Beth & the h.naoto rucksack (I need help!) plus the dark Fairie of the Wood (two Fairy Tales)

Today/Tonight we have two fairy tales, one is called, Beth with OCD who is going crazy and needs your help and the other is called The Dark Fairie of the Woods. Both are sort of goth tales in their own way.

First off, regarding my lovely punk spiderweb backpack by h.naoto: the bad news they are all sold out. I know this because after TWO HUNDRED page clicks of the four brands of h.naoto (which took 2 hours and 19 minutes, did I mention the OCD!), I found it on the Japanese main h.naoto site, right here (see the search line on the left, enter this product code and hit the button: NND1-B052 BK-RD/F). Sigh, sob, sob. Okay that is the bad news.

The GOOD news is that I found a similar back pack which is a little more goth but also in spider web called the Feather wing (at the main site enter the product code: NND2-B019 BK-RD/F) backpack/rucksack. It has the same front to hang over the chair but looks like there are dark angel wings in the back. But as you see, the wings are just for show and inside is the SAME rucksack with pockets, that you just flip back the front wings to access. That is good, that is cool.

But wait, is any story ever so simple? No! Not for our poor Victoria Heroine Elizabeth Eloise McClung of the Western Clan (if you think my middle name is Eloise think again!), BECAUSE while this backpack is in stock FOR NOW in Japan for the same price ($90 – that Beth has saved in her Ossuary Box of Precious things), the company h.naoto and website only sell to people IN JAPAN. So unless you know someone IN JAPAN who can order this for me, I am sort of (Canadian slang here) ‘hooped.’ I have given up on the other backpack after Linda called Japan and talked to the company h.naoto today and they said, no it will NEVER be reissued and I missed it by a couple days (insert scenes of me pathetically trying to throw myself off cliffs here). BUT I have a new backpack for the same price, give or take $5, only….they won’t sell it to me! (Insert more scenes of me pathetically trying to throw myself under the horses drawing a carriage here). So, any ideas? Tune in tomorrow to find out the rest of this epic saga!

Moving on. This next part of the post was one of the more mystical aspects to our trip to the Hoh Rainforest. We had been going quite a while, following the forest path, Linda Cheryl and I. But then, after a time our bearings got turned around, and we were lost, like so many who had come before. All we could see on either side was forest, forest, forest, the trail was gone and only the greenery (beautiful though it was) was to be seen.
At this point, emerging from the forest was my Dark Fairie (This is actually a true story, just let me tell it my way instead of me being a person who suddenly asks a stranger to do a photo shoot for them. And I somehow convince her to do it, all in the middle of the woods). Well, she appeared out of the woods and stood before us, and a path appeared around us. By the images on her skin she was clearly tied to the day. And allowed me to record these wondrous markings. But then, it seemed she had a dark side also, as opposite to those creatures of light were the markings of bats and creatures of the night. What a complicated woodland Fairie this was. We asked her for directions and then before she left, after much persuading she showed us the symbol of the lost king she bore (sorry, I just couldn’t help myself!).

She turned us back to the light and before us a pathway appeared and we continued on our journey. But of her, and her bewitching eyes, hair and colorful patterns, when we turned to thank her, she had vanished back into the green of the forest.
So there you go, a true tale of the Hoh Rainforest, and sadly, I never got her name. But she was very happy but shy by my delight (well Cheryl was breathing pretty heavy too) with her body art. There was some on every limb and many more I guessed where I could NOT see.

So nothing deep today, just some pretty shots and a problem which has me in anguish, to lose ONE backpack by 40 hours is one thing but to find another, HAVE the money but not be able to buy it. This is a new cruelty, is it not? I hope you enjoyed the little fantasy in the woods (and have an idea on solving my problem!!! – Did I mention the over two hours searching pages!). Happy day!

More Red Squirrels, the News, Paypal and Seizures.

Okay, first off, thank you everyone for trying to help me with the h.naoto spider web backpack/rucksack, we called Japan, the internet store is out, the main store in Toyko is out. If anyone can speak Japanese, have a try but DO NOT BUY IT ON EBAY! There is a person selling it on ebay for $168 – he has only gotten 3 feedback in the last 90 days, he does not HAVE ANY bags, he is selling many, many items, of which, he claims will be sent from Japan. He is in California. I think he is a scammer, please avoid! If we can find it in Osaka or another Japanese place, we will try but otherwise….that ship has sailed, which sucks because as Linda said, “That would have been a really good bag for you.” Oh well. I just don’t want any kind hearted readers giving money to scammers – genuine dealers in Japan however – go for it! Or tell me so I can go for it.

Also, I will be having three MAJOR medical appointments tomorrow so I may be wiped for a while. I also had a major seizure and my heart stopped for a while but it is going now, so that was really painful (and radiating under my shoulder blades) but I am still here. Ha! But I may have to respond to comments a little slower. As my hands don't work so well, or parts of my body and I was paralyzed for a while.

Linda has set up a paypal account in secret and activated it today, if you send me an email marked paypal, then I will forward it to her (without reading it) or you can send her an email directly to linda.mcclung at shaw.ca and she will give you the directions. She doesn’t know how to do the button thing yet. I don’t do finances. So I work on the sending out postcards and she deals with the managing how to pay for oxygen concentrators and stuff like that. So, want a postcard – email me at mpshiel at hotmail.com; want to talk to Linda about oxygen concentrators or getting me to see a neurologist, email her. This weekend I worked on a goth postcard and while it doesn’t tell a story like “Don’t be a graverobber”, I thought it was a pretty cool collection and one of the better goth cards, so here it is:
I can’t really do the deep thinking because a) four fingers have frostbite, b) I had a seizure so it is like someone took an electric eggbeater and stuck it in my head – ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! Suddenly thoughts don’t form up so well. And c) um…..see b on why I can’t remember c. So here instead is the Hoh Rainforest, after the SPLAT, when I was feeding the red squirrels.

First we have the first Frisky squirrel and his hyperactive brother going by with a pine cone. Which would be remarkable if there were not several thousand pine cones on the ground within vision, never the less he had a “Ho, ho, ho, me so smart, it all mine!” attitude as we and his slightly smarter teenage brother watched him scamper past.

Then you have the actual domestication of the squirrel. Yes, I know that Frisky is a wild animal and will probably due to my behavior of training it to feed, later leap upon some child and eat their eyes. But hey, it is FUN, and I like to do it (this world is all about me, okay!). Also you get an idea of how big (or not) this little guy is, literally as long as my finger.

And finally, having gotten his fresh roll, Frisky finishes the day doing what squirrels do best, gorging themselves. They seem to like eating, and I seem to like to feed them so that is a good match. Sorry nothing deeper, once I have a brain that doesn’t look like an omelet, I am sure something thoughtful will arise.

The Hoh Rainforest and The Question

How fitting it was that the Hoh Rainforest, someplace that seems very otherworldly, was the end of my dreams. It was the fulfilling of my last dream. I now have no plans, or hopes for the future, all burned away, and so this, for now is the end. But a very ‘other’ place to enjoy an end.

In fact, much of the green, the moss and mold reminds me of Oga’s oil artwork which serves as backgrounds in Ghibli films such at Totoro. Here is a scene that seem very much in Totoro’s world.
I guess the question that everyone would like to know, the one that is frustrating and dominating things is, “When is Elizabeth going to die?” I would like to know it, the hospital would like to know it and so would Linda. A lot of people would. Even though Linda HOPED that I would make it to October, but beyond that, there really isn’t anything, a blank. Here is Linda in the ‘other world’. Something we shared together.

The problem is that for single person with one paying job, having someone who is needing greater and greater medical intervention is a very serious business: it has emotional but also financial repercussions. And the truth is, even with me selling a few items on ebay (I don’t have a STORE, I sell a few things when I have the strength to put them on), we are financially tapped out (if having your credit card maxed is tapped out: sort of post tapped out). And I still have a $17,000 chair we are supposed to find 20% of, once Blue Cross approves it, much less how we are going to afford our portion of the $5,000 portable oxygen concentrator, or then, the ventilator as that becomes necessary. We just paid our bit for the $500+ regulator of our concentrated oxygen tubes we carry with us – three small bottles and a giant bottle on Linda’s back carried on the ferry just to go over so I could travel to the Hoh and back.

So when WILL I die? Because while I am brain damaged (I will try to write in detail about this later in the week) and often not able to understand in entirety, and need to be protected from information or myself at times (or in some ways, all the time), I still am alive and somewhat mobile. Yes, my heart is erratic for several hours a day and at some point when it gets to a determined level of erratics we will get a pacemaker. Then maybe a ventilator and port so I can breathe. Then there is the tube to maintain body weight at a non-self cannibalism level. And there are things like diaphragm pacemakers. Nothing really to help the brain, and the increasing problems there, at least these last few weeks with language loss, comprehension and periods of diminished capacity. It isn’t easy for me writing about these things, but I do. My urinary and fecal retention has reached the daily point where some sort of catheter is probably in a near future (and maybe golightly - ug! Good thing I can't taste!).

But these measures all cost, and these are just to keep me alive longer, or the body alive: no improvement of quality of life, that is going down. There is nothing that can be done for degeneration of the brain, of the autonomic system and of the level of oxygen in the blood.

People talk about getting back to me at Xmas and Linda and I wince because being alive or in a state to do much more than lie there has never been concievable for either of us. It is like the person saying, "See you when you are dead!"

I deteriorate every week. Now, maybe the deterioration isn’t quite so obvious though a blog nor does it seem as quick (though in some ways it is lightning fast, with something removed forever in just one day), but it continues. And I guess the question is how far down will I go?

In the forest decay can produce beauty, as these fungi on the ends of a downed log demonstrate. They are breathtaking. But in our society, in humans, death and beauty doesn’t seem to happen. The dying are supposed to give speeches like “The Last Lecture” while looking fairly healthy and then go to hide behind the veil and do the actual dying there (to me, "The Last Lecture" with a visable bulging tumor, slapping on patches of painkillers between sentences and a few stumbles or a scream or two with heavy breathing over the podium would be a bit more my speed, my level of...reality).

I don’t have cancer, I don’t HAVE a mapped progression; am I on oxygen for hours, sure; are my fingers purple, sure; do I get brain damage on a weekly level, certainly. Do I have nose bleeds from spiking diastolic and systolic BP, yup, several times a week. Am I losing weight daily? Am I losing the ability to see, not exactly as we understand it, not a traditional blindness but often a dysfunction of the neurological input to make people blobs or behind a curtain of red dots? Yes, almost daily. Loss of speech, daily. Loss of motor function: daily. Are some days where I have equitable function to someone with later stage ALS: yes. Are some days when I have hours where I have equitable function of someone with only 10-15 years of MS: Yes. There is no mapped progression.

Could I die in a sudden loss of heart function over a period of 30 to 40 minutes combined with seizures? Very, very possible, in fact, almost happened a few times in the last weeks. Could I have a massive stroke and end up with brain loss and a body sustained by machines: again, how do you think all those bruises are going to be carried away in a compromised vascular system? Will all my futures mean I will be able to blog less? Yes.

Linda and I have already talked about the days when I cannot blog, when she will maybe report some of our conversations. These will be the times when I cannot speak or use my limbs consistently for enough minutes or an hour or two in a 24 or 36 hour period to write or use DragonSpeak and make a blog post. I have had some very near misses, as you see over time, I have more and more “system down” posts, but I want, and fight, against the time when I simply cannot post for two or three or more days: because then that first "Linda reporting" post will be the start of it, not the single exception. But when will I die?

“See you next spring” – for me, I gave gifts in summer and contributed a hefty shovel full to our financial downfall because there was no Xmas for me. There was not going to be the ability to give or even understand who people were at Xmas. There was no saving for tomorrow because there was no next year, no vacation in 2009.

But now, with the gifts and the packages, my mental deterioration is far worse than I expected. I often fear opening packages or moving the gifts people give from packages because 1) I cannot remember WHO the person is in a few days unless I am emailing them immediately (not often possible) and 2) I will never be able to match the present and package or person back up, the photographic memory is now the reality of mid to late Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s. Cheryl and Linda protect me, shield me, comfort me because I am frustrated and confused holding a gift I don’t know who it is from or when it is from.

I love getting cards and gifts. But often, if feeling unwell, and unable to email right away, I know that I will not email at all, because I won’t KNOW anything about the item except “cool” and “I didn’t buy that, so it must be a gift!” I have forgotten gifts Cheryl has given me for my birthday, had to ask her where I got it (and it is so common, I have lost my mortification when it happens: "This is nice, where did I get this?" Cheryl: "I gave it to you three weeks ago." Me: "Wow, cool, great taste!"). A host of forgotten gifts Linda and others give me for important dates. This is my life. But I am not dead. I am still writing, and this is what life is, at least for me.

So, I have no dreams to look forward to, no plans, nothing except an idea I came up with today where I could sell my skin on Ebay (except the face), that the winner could come and cut off my skin for transplants in order for me to raise some money. Because maybe there is some treatment that could halt this disease (these DISEASES!) I have for a time, maybe IVIG could get approved if we get to the States with our $1,000 (that we don’t have) to see a Neurologist. Maybe if there was a halting in progression I would heal and my mind would improve. Maybe if I had a pain specialist and wasn’t in constant pain my mind would improve, my life would improve. Those are maybe’s.

Dying isn’t much of a maybe except for when. Will I see cherry blossoms again? What will next summer bring if I had three air conditioners and I STILL ended up in hospital and in emergent conditions over a dozen times? Will I live on, fighting with my exercise and my three or so good hours a week only to die in a spring heatwave? I don’t know. How can Linda start saving money, start planning for HER future with me here, draining her psychically, emotionally, financially. And we still have to get Blue Cross funding and the 20% for what my biggest supporter calls, “your last wheelchair.” And it is.

I should be thankful for what I have, and live in uncertainty. I did that for over a year and yet now, without a date, we can’t get hospice help, we can’t get specialist painkillers, I can’t for instance set the time of my death while I still have the capacity to do so. Yes, I believe in death with dignity at the moment of choice. And for most people with most diseases, I am FAR, far, further down that road than they and I am still not popping pills to die so don’t worry I am not about to pop off any time soon (excepting the suicidal impulses from being such a drain on everyone I know who loves me: both of them). But when it becomes obvious: like, they have to restart my breathing and suction out my lungs a couple time a day and restart my heart and I am in agony and there are no painkillers left that work and I only have the use of one arm a little, then yeah, I am not going to make anyone an accomplice. But right now, no one knows whether I go in a bang, or I whimper on for months (a year? Is that even conceivable, a year, another summer?).

I don’t HAVE an answer, it is a question that follows us to every GP appointment (why else leave progressive anemia for months, unless you just don’t know what to do?), to most if not all specialists appointments and lives with us in our home. I am NOT GOING to San Fran: I have no money, I have no oxygen concentrator approved and owned as yet so I can breath if I HAD money. Plus thanks to Linda’s employers, her vacation has been stolen away for every MINUTE of when she comes to the ER to make medical decisions as my legal medical power of attorney (because usually at that point I have NO CAPACITY TO UNDERSTAND or make those decisions).

So what dream do I have. Nothing.

What gets me out of bed in the morning? Pain. Pain so bad I can’t stay in bed. Heart so bad I fall on the floor and lie there for hours. I am now at least once a week found stuck, too weak to move, until Linda comes home (and her bosses are right behind her at working pestering for her to pile on the overtime! Which she doesn't get paid for: "There isn't enough 'buzz' about you Linda!"). Soon, I might be unable mentally to leave the apartment by myself, but until then I will continue to leave, on my own power, by myself, at least four times a week. To sustain a life I am unsure what to do with.

There are no easy answer and yet, as much as we question whether life should come INTO the world before and during pregnancy, this is an important question too. And the uncertainty of when I will die is jamming the grieving process: I die tomorrow, Linda is not ready. But if I linger until a blind vegetative state and then what: she has to leave me in some facility to visit on weekends, to talk to and hope that I hear her? That is going to be a messy grieving.

Beauty is in decay, at least in forests, another world Heritage Site, after the seven I saw in Japan. I don’t know what to live for, or why, and surely that will not help in my vigilance in doing all I need to stay in optimal health (or what that passes for in me). I don’t know what my future is beyond death (or what it is between now and death), I don’t know when, I can not work (I have paid rent since aged 12), I have little resources, I have diminishing functions and it should be useful to everyone to know....when will Elizabeth die?

Pictures of the Hoh Rainforest and my "Magic Eight ball" day

It turns out that driving hours through winding mountain forest roads, then spending many hours on trails ending with a face plant which has left bruises on about 20% of my legs SO far: that kind of day turns my autonomic system into a magic eight ball. So I get up and say (no joke), “I think I may be stronger than last week.... maybe this exercise is a restart.” Followed almost immediately by my passing out.

I go downtown to Hello Kitty store. Followed by passing out. Let’s shake the eight ball and see what it says? It says you feel great! And I did for 25 minutes where I talked to an RN on vacation about the variations of the same disease in presentation before “shaking the magic eight ball” again and got: voice slurring.

I get home (read that as: forcibly abducted by Linda and Cheryl and taken to Cheryl’s house) for lunch and “shake the magic eight ball” and pass out again (I get that one a LOT). Was it worth it? Well not so much for the Hello Kitty store but YES. I tried all summer to go to the Hoh Rainforest, just the fact that I had a terrible week and kept trying makes it worth it. But several hours of views like this: Yeah, that makes it worth it.

Here is another of the green scenery in the “Hall of Mosses” (What is it with Americans and big names? Canadians just name the forest (or giant stretch of land – The Shield) and leave it at that – I am worried that all new forests in the USA will now be Forest Liberty and Freedom! Or The Operation Amaze and Astound National Park).

And to prove that I was at the Hoh, here I am in the requisite “going under the tree.” The parks service learned that hallowing out a giant redwood or other trees to drive through actually, wait for it, KILLS the tree! So now, as cool as it was in the 50’s to drive through the tree, they have had to top off the tree. So currently you are allowed in the Redwoods National Forest to drive through the giant redwood STUMP. So here, at World Heritage Site they pretty much just leave things where they lay. Which is cool as there was one tree that was 190 feet long, we could see the broken off stump where it fell over. Yup, 190 feet of trail is following this log at tall as we are high (with kids walking the top) and we find out, the top of the tree was taken away to clear the trail. So it was TALLER than 190 feet. Makes my 6 foot 3 inches seem pretty puny, eh?

To give you an idea of what Linda and I did A LOT of the time so I could enjoy this, was doing things like this, for collectively I guess over an hour. The slope I fell down was the one leading back DOWN from the plateau to the trail joining trails together and had about a 20-25 degree slope, so yeah, scary times. But also, it is always those last 300 yards that will get ya!

Anyway, back to today: during lunch the eight ball shakes up and up bubbles, “Blow off the back of the head” which is Brain-go-Boom slang for a type of seizure where it feels like someone is blasting out of the back of my head with a shotgun, which then goes into blinding pain, head and torso shaking and then more stuff which I pass out for, before I wake up blind. My body is so rigid it can’t be moved (like, try to move the arm…break the arm), and then after 45 seconds to 2 minutes it starts again, and again, and again. Oh the fun we have. I was put to bed and slept many hours. Don’t know if I ever got to finish lunch.

But I can’t predict what happens after, and yes, healing from a lot of traumatic injuries probably isn’t helping and all the bruising makes me worried for TIA’s and other minor strokes but was it worth it? Yeah. I saw the Hoh, I did, I went, I lived. It took Cheryl to drive and Linda to help me over the steps and roots and inclines but we did it and saw it together. That means something to me. So does this little guy.
If my health has recovered enough, I will be attempting to cross back on the Ferry tomorrow, where I can download our cameras and get you more pictures. These pictures are from Cheryl, and thanks for letting me use them. Just wanted to give you an idea what was worth trying again and again to see (an incentive to come visit me? See how wheelchair accessible it is!).

Hoh Rainforest, I have big crash, the squirrel grapevine and more postcards

Today we did what I had come over two previous times to attempt, and failed both times: go to the Hoh Rainforest. It is a rainforest and a World Heritage site. I had decided to make one last attempt, and with two weeks of sunny weather, though it predicted rain, today turned out sunny. We drove out there (2.5 hours) and did a “semi-accessible trail” – if you consider stairs to be 10 inches and higher ‘semi-accessible.’ But I saw the Hoh rainforest and I took a couple hundred pictures. (Camera whores are we!)

We saw the Hall of Mosses and we saw two first year black squirrels fooling around in the tall trees (acting like the teenagers they were, swinging from the moss and other dignified actions). I have to wait until I return to give you the whole pictures and story.

But I did have a exciting spectacular accident which involved me running out of control down a steep narrow trail on a section where there was a drop off and no guard rail. Apparently after a look of terror I said, “Help, Help!” before I managed with the one wheel on the ground to direct myself toward the steep incline the trail was cut from (the wall of dirt and tree roots). I hit it, which flipped the chair over, threw me TOWARDS the drop, and then threw the chair into the AIR, with my legs still strapped in, landing atop me (how that is possible I don’t know. That is what the two witnesses say and it makes Very interesting bruises). But, I did NOT fall over the edge (whew!), though apparently I hit so hard a cloud of dust and tree leaves made a plume into the air and my head was a few inches from the side of the down slope cliff.

Some people from below, having seen the plume, ran up to help. At this point I was pretty sure that my finger as well as at least one knee was broken because well, I could FEEL THEM, and what they were saying is not to be repeated in polite company (so skin me down and body slam me a few times and you CAN get some feeling out of me).

I looked up and said, "I am ONE with the forest!" (apparently two goth girl who had come to help...or watch, found that very funny)
I was assessed and carried into my chair and decided NOT to take the additional trail, but call it a day. No, nothing broken, at least nothing obvious. So just an exciting finish to the day (but wait...there's more!) There were lots of great woods and great moss and just wait for the pictures. But yeah, there was a bit of hell trail.

We had lunch and a couple crows appeared to beg. I said, “No way, I’m waiting for squirrels.” It was a joke.

But you know how the squirrel grapevine goes. Well, a few minutes a young squirrel (a few months old and about 4 inches long) appeared racing across the parking lot and in little jumps approached towards me. I threw what I had which was a piece of roll, so a bit of bread. He came about 18 inches away and grabbed it, eating it down. It was a red squirrel with red tail and red chest. As he was eating a SECOND squirrel appeared. He had a pinecone in his mouth and raced past. After feeding the first squirrel a few more times, he left, racing off the way the very young and very energetic squirrels do.

Then the second squirrel raced back, buried the pine cone a few feet away and had a “My turn now?” look to his face. I tossed the bread in the air and he ended up going within a few inches of Linda (who was taking pictures – I was too busy being the ‘squirrel whisperer’) to grab it and then have a good munch. So that was a good end of a trip; got to see a world heritage site, a great forest, bruised and bleeding AND got to have red squirrels (which I had not seen before) seek me out. Not Linda or Cheryl, ME, (seriously, do I have some sort of squirrel musk on me?).

I can’t show you pictures of the Hoh (until I get home to download them) so I will show you what I did work on yesterday which is some more postcards. I am sending these out right now. And to complete my ‘I am the punch doll of the universe’, for the second week in a row 10% of my postings from the last week appeared in my post box, only this time for a different reason. After about 400 postcards, it seems there is some stick-up-the-arse in Tacoma sorting center who has issue with me sending decorated cards, or Japanese cards or whatever. So I just keep working. And here are some of those who I spent a month or more getting. I think they have beauty.

The postcard project doesn’t define me, but it allows me to reach out to other people, to say that I actually care about something beyond myself – which is in a way, a gift I give myself and one I hope I give to those who receive them. They are important to me, and now they too are being a bit stomped on. To see a set of cards that took an average of 3-6 hours each to make returned is painful, but I don’t quit, I don’t stop, not as long as there is intent in my brain and a way to continue. So I will keep posting the ones I send out. And I will keep sending.

I don’t know much but this I have experienced from “health professionals”, and social workers and those who are to help the vulnerable and the police and the politicians: that the act of giving a damn, of caring about an individual is a rare one. Even to the point of just sending a personal postcard is very rare. I wish I had any of my health care “professionals” spend that much time in a week thinking and caring about me. I imagine there are millions out there who do. I can’t send out millions of postcards, but I can send hundreds, maybe if I have time left before I die, a couple thousand. People matter.

Simple pleasures, postcards from Japan, mud slushing and Hoh

Okay, yes I know I talked about rest and resting but instead (typical me) I am going off on another adventure which I hope will NOT end with me going to the hospital. See, tomorrow was SUPPOSED to be my, “I will go to the Hoh Rainforest Trip!” because the last attempt failed only because of the effect of the Coho (I am not strong enough to compensate for the movement of the ship for 90 minutes so start having problems breathing, etc), I need an evening to recover (so I going tonight and then lying there making vague moaning/vomit noises - actually viewed as less odd when I do it in Port Angeles than in Victoria, so I must not be the only one lying down making those noises over there). Then tomorrow I go to the Hoh Rainforest and recover again, and Saturday I come back and recover from the Coho Ferry after I come back. Admittedly two days and nights for 2 hours in a rain forest but hey, I said I was going and it would HAPPEN, I didn’t say it was going to be easy.

Only…..it is raining. I mean it IS called a rain forest, it is just that it has been sunny for weeks and weeks and now, when I actually WANT it to be sunny, it is raining. Oh Fudge! So I will need to plan the whole, “I will go to the Hoh Rainforest!” AGAIN, because we still have like a bunch of summer (many, “soon” of summer) and I need two or three weeks of sun to dry off the forest. Because while Able Bodied people can walk around that giant mudhole that appears after rain in the middle of the trail in a rainforest, wheelchairs have to go THROUGH. Which means if I go, I would do a LOT more pushing (mud is more resistance than dirt), and look like a mud monster within .5 km. So what we are doing is unknown. But not the Hoh. But I am still going (drinking margarita’s is high on my list right now).

But I wanted to let you know that I am, and have put my plan of doing the simple pleasing things in action and am back on the postcard project, and these are some of the postcards I prepared over the last day or two. Just a selection of what is going out. The ones with the pinked haired anime girl are from Aria, an anime/manga series about Neo-Venice (The New Venice) which is built on the terraformed Mars and the girls are the only ones who row the gondolas. Cute coming of age story of our heroine who dreams of being a professional gondola rower and the people she meets.

I have taken all of the postcards to stage three now. Stage one is matching postcard to person (I actually end up with several cards laid out reading up on the person to trying and decide the right one). Stage two is getting the address label and return address on. Stage three is wood block or rubber stamping. Stage four is all other stickers. Stage five is writing and then off it goes. Here is an example of two of the cards as they wait to dry, as Japanese cards have a bit of slick veneer on them which requires drying time.

When I send cards to parents I try to select cards and wood blocks and stickers which will make their children envious of them (Parents are rarely the envy of being ‘cool’). I also, if you email me at mpshiel at hotmail.com will send your child a postcard. I usually send baby animal ones, or simple anime ones – everything super G-rated. I remember as a child/youth/teen how that I NEVER seemed to get any mail, so I try to make sure all the youths/teens or children on my lists get cards regularly because a cool postcard from someone you don’t know is STILL better than no postcard at all, right? So if you want me to send a postcard to your children, just let me know. As I said, the information is kept for postcard use only. Only Linda and I have access and it is not kept on-line but off-line. Also, any readers (not to point fingers but SHEA) who I don’t seem to have addresses for, I would really like to be able to send you a postcard. If in this modern world the idea that someone would send time and money to make sure you got a postcard seems odd then just remember that I have some brain damage (if that is what it takes to explain it).

I got to try out some new wood blocks today and I am very pleased with them - Look at the totem pole and the baskets - cool! Simple pleasures, right? Hopefully the people who get them will like them too. This post is also so that those who haven’t got their card recently know that I am hard at work at the Postcard mine, toiling to dig the cards out of the earth, and bring them to the light of day (that means my 120+ postcards from Japan have ARRIVED!).

Anyway, I am off to the post office with today's batch, I hope you have a good day and I will update you tomorrow on what I did INSTEAD of slushing around with my wheelchair in the MUD.