My weekend and why Linda calls me 'Sheldon'

We had a pretty good weekend, until the third hour of it.

I WAS going for Korean BBQ that evening(except they were on vacation for a week), so while deciding we went to the local markets. The natural soap and carver was there with new products, including both mini-watermelon and apricots.
Last year a potter had been making skeleton cookie jars but had moved on to mugs as well as fossilized dinosaur pattern mugs. Cool. I was like, “Where’s the lid?” because Linda had hinted at a skeleton cookie jar. No lid.

There is an inner court of stalls, then an outer court with the foods. Inside there is a guy singing busking songs and outside there was a woman with a Celtic ‘Lap Harp’, I think it is 42 strings. We bought some cheese at the Award Winning Qualicum Cheese Factory we had visited before (now they come to us – score!). They were Finalists in the Brie category for all of Canada (Brie is the one where the stuff that normally tells you your bread, clothes, or shoes have been hanging around to long covers cheese and this makes it ‘strong’ – yeah, kind of like a men’s locker room I’m guessing. I don’t do ‘strong’ cheeses, sorry).

Off to the side there is even a play area for children which even has its own Zip Line. Pretty cool. This guy was using it to Zip back and forth.

What is amazing is he was a least a foot shorter than being able to reach the holding ring (and thus probably years too young for those who planned what age should use it – but does that ever stop a kid?). He was climbing up on bolts and jumping to grab the ring, and then would ride it across every time he caught it.

Here is a picture of the corner of the market, if you don’t get the irony, then it is just a nice tree, blooming. We left and went to the James Bay market afterward. Making a brief stop at home. While Linda went inside, I talked to the animals.
It was a sunny and warm day and people were taking out their collectable vehicles for the first big rides of the year. I think this is a Bentley beside us, I love the tires.

In James Bay, Whimsical Jam was there, and we talked to them and bought some peach jam for Linda. Then I talked to the potter who last year would not use the Amazing blue in her pottery because she was pregnant now had her baby and was using blue again! And more was going to be on display next week, this week just these two. This, according to Linda is an oil and vinegar set. While to me it is clearly perfect for making flambe’! Not enough flambe’ in this world: flambe’ waffles in the morning, flambe’ omlettes, flambe’ open beef sandwich….the ideas are endless. Next week they are having a gallery showing of the artist of James Bay…..up at least 20 stairs. DARN.

Here is the artist who blows glass and makes tidepools which Linda bought. This year he was making mini stars and Galaxy’s inside of glass balls. They ranged from $90-$150 but were amazing to look at. He also created octopus as well as these jellyfish necklaces (we are very sea themed here on the west coast island).
As for me, I found a left over Anarchy necklace. It had been left over because an older woman wanted it because she was named ANN, the owner explained before final sale that the symbol had slight other meanings besides an A. Her loss was my gain. I told the woman watching the stall for the glass blower that Anarchy is not about bad or violence, it merely supports the removal or collapse of a previous system so rapid change, for good or ill, rises in place (we hope for good, oddly, we keep getting ill).

She said, "Wha? Yeah, sure." I got it for $10 (you can see it here with my cooling ‘kerchief and a pack of ice down my back). Ah, it all comes together, the red hair, the Anarchy symbol, now I just need a big flag and a line of police to charge in my wheelchair!
Sadly the heat did me in at this point and with the fever, nausea in extreme, shaking, and the desire to have my skin turn inside out as well as my body getting hotter and hotter, I had full blown heat stroke as the dizziness and confusion increased. And voided my entire intestines. Despite the ‘warnings’ to go to a hospital (yeah!), I was wheeled to bed, lifted in, iced, and lay alternating mumbling things and shivering before sleeping. The fever broke nine hours later. The good news is that I did NOT going into a coma! The bad news is I didn’t go out for dinner, and having 2 hours out from 11-1 in May means full heat stroke, then will I be able to leave this apartment until autumn? I hope so. So, got the 1 in 3 bad disaster weekend out of the way.

Getting up, I worked with Cheryl and Linda into the WEE hours doing postcards, 54 in all, down the list, making sure that people who might have been missed for a while were getting one. I hope they come at the right time, since I have been hearing people getting the ‘lurgy’ or varients which go into the lungs right away all over the country, so I hope a postcard gets to them when they are down.

In the evening Linda and I have been renting ‘The Big Bang Theory’ which is sort of like watching some guys I knew at uni. But during one episode, at one point, returning from a Renaissance Faire, Sheldon (ASD and self absorbed brainiac!) was complaining about the inaccuracies at the Faire. However his complaints were so egregiously wrong I had to pause the show to explain to Linda about disregarding those INACCURATE complaints because the period Sheldon was talking about was late middle ages of central Europe not the explosive intellectual/artistic explosion in Florence. That is what spread not only exchanged through the emerging postal system which carried the challenges of mathematics, puzzles of art perspective, and treatises but the education centers of University of Paris, Oxford and others, quoting from the excellent biography of Layola (founder of the Jesuits) who went to Paris.

I stopped at this point because Linda was laughing so hard that she was crying, and couldn’t seem to stop laughing, as she would look at me and say, “Yes Sheldon” and then start laughing again.

I tried to remain aloof and simply restarted the show, but soon had to make a correction of late middle English pronunciation which the show had wrong and set off Linda into hysterics again.

Sigh.

She giggled constant throughout but did turn to me at the end, when the main character broke up with the wonderful Leslie Winkle ("Come for the boobs, stay for the brains") due to what theory of physics they would teach their children. Leslie believed in Quantum and Sheldon (and the main character) believed in String. I explained (briefly) the step from the grandfather Newton to father Einstein and his theories. My own observation is that Winkle was right because Quantum physics is about TESTS and results and working equations from that to find the laws of this universe, while string theory cannot BE tested.

Life impacts theory and vice versa, so the pragmatic aspects that women have to deal with and compromise about not just historically but as part of life, makes Quantum is an extension of that. Because one can have an idea but when a single aspect of data (like recent finding of the fact that stem cells grow differently in space – hence the idea of colonies in space suddenly is less attractive to women who REALLY don’t want to see what the first child would be like!) requires a change in universe constants and our perspective. String Theory, like male masturbation, has endless variety and playing with itself but has no tangible effects or ability to test (and the idea that you can get paid to do this, oddly enough, attracts a high percentage of men to that field) – while Quantum, you get it wrong, and instead of a baby, you get cancer.

Now most of the time when we watch Big Bang Theory I point out to her that while I have OCD, a cleanness issue, space issues, tend to overthink the optimal, I keep saying, “I don’t do THAT” while she giggles at various places.

We work at getting by. We work at contact, and intimacy of space despite the pain (I fell twice yesterday, the second time hurting my elbow, hip and leg badly). Or I do, because the pain is what makes me something I would not want to be. I want to put defensive, cranky, and pain hazed interpreted Elizabeth on the shelf and let the vulnerable Elizabeth’s back out (problem is they need someone to catch them emotionally: in order to remain open and vulnerable, it creates fragility). So with my birthday midweek, I live in a future I hardly believe, of years I can’t remember. And the knowledge of the pain I live but the pain I have caused others. I know individuals who believe I deserve this, and it is my fear that Linda was chosen, or persecuted once again with a layoff BECAUSE I exist, because I am ill, and fear that deep down she wants to yell, ‘It is your fault!’, and then she's gone. She won't, because her daily acts of thoughtful kind love after years of hard caregiving should tell me otherwise. It tells me she cares. My fears keep whispering though.

Canada particularly always seeks to find whose fault it is, or rather to avoid taking responsibility and end up at fault. So to get ill, I was told, it must be genetic. It must be because I have displeased God. It is my sins come back to haunt me, etc. I live in a brain where time has stopped that day part of it died and yet I must face things every time I wake up. The day after the postcards I went for dental cleaning (Linda knew this was included and oddly did not tell me, due to the 'worry factor'), exam AND plates to avoid cracks and chipping from pain teeth clenching and seizures. The cleaning took 90 minutes. I talked to the person doing the scaling and cleaning and asked her to ‘kill it all, every little bit’, and then, suctioning blood, asked her to go back and do the back wisdom teeth as well as other areas AGAIN. There was a LOT of blood.

Linda was reading a magazine when the tech said, “um, is she…” and Linda looked and said, “Yeah, she’s passed out.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

“Oh yeah,” Linda assured her, “No worries!” I passed out twice, had a seizure and a TIA. The pain was, well, I kept telling myself, “hang on, hang on…”

A close relation was having their cleaning at the same time and talked to Linda was I was out (seizure or TIA I think), they saw me come to, use the arm I could use to raise is the air and rasp out, “Kill, kill, kill!” and back in with the tools the Tech went. The relation said, “It just isn’t fair how she gets to have fun doing this!”

Ah….er?

At the end, I had no cavities, no problems and declared myself ‘ready for toffee!’ That is, once I finished keeping the fluoride in my mouth for 30 minutes.

And thus goes my birthday week so far. No, not the greatest, I will admit.

I’d love to hear how your weekend went. And if it was a ‘SPLAT’ at least you know you have company. Next weekend we are hoping to get out to the highland games, which are here in town. I have always wanted to do the dancing with the really expensive leather shoes with lacing round the ankles (they cost about $110, I checked). Plus I can practice a bagpipe for at least 2-3 minutes (how long can it take to learn anyway?) without Linda noticing.Because I have a plan for LINDA’s birthday. I wish to surprise her with my rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to You’ on the bagpipes. I haven’t actually played them, as such, but I have read a book and am pretty up on the theory (it is hard to practice the bagpipes in an apartment and end up surprising her when the time comes, you know what I mean?). So she has that to look forward to.

Next post, I will be writing about Birthday ‘wishes’ (my number one wish is ‘one more year’ – since Linda says that 'NO, I am not actually just down with mono and daily exercise will NOT cure this' – I told her next year I can wish for ‘one more year’ again). But mostly about ‘Secret Shames’ and asking you to share them.

Yes, those secret shames like whose picture you had in your locker and which male readers got a perm (or blower drying in the school locker to look like David Bowie or Shawn Cassidy)? One of Linda’s secrets: She actually had a ‘Hang in There’ poster with a kitty. Me? I had an under the hood programming K.I.T.T. car from Knight Rider. Oh yeah, there wasn’t exactly an INNER HIDDEN geek.

SUPER NEWS! And visiting a craft faire.

SUPER NEWS! Ready for it? Okay, the exciting news is that, with Cheryl and Linda’s help, we BROKE the record for postcards with 94 postcards in pretty much one sitting (yeah, the ebay stuff happened too but postcards important!). Zowie. Yeah, lots of hurting shoulders here. Got some good stamps, good postcards, every postcard was both stamped, stickered and individually written on. And personally selected for just that person. Which brings us to 3,400. Pow! Okay, not even WANTING to be trying to beat that record soon (It was an accident, I said it looked like 30, Cheryl said 60 I think, Linda said 69).

But that means that there should be postcards all out over the world before the Xmas slowdown occurs too badly.

The previous day we went to the BIG craft faire, no wait that was earlier on Saturday (same day as started postcards). But before I wrote the blog. On the postcards, we worked until 7:00 am I think or later a little, then got up Sunday and pushed to finish by 3:30 pm when Cheryl’s boat leaves. Cheryl and Linda really, really deserve a lot of credit for this.

Linda got mad, said that she couldn’t stand to see me in the pain I was working in (I have my ribs strapped now), she wished I gave the kind of commitment and love to myself that I give to the people I do postcards for. I told her I don’t have the time, I am running out of time. She knew that, which is why she was mad. She came back, she was sad, she was coping, a sad/mad thing. I am running out of time.

I don't want each person to think I didn't care, or think of them. I want them to know they make a difference, and this is the only way I know how to show it. And yes, I sacrifice what I have: my body. Linda says, it means less time, that makes her mad, and that I am in pain, and that makes her mad. She is right and yet, how can I walk away from any individual? Who goes? Who has a crappy week/month/year without relief? I want to do more, not less. But she is right, and I have less time, so my body tells me.

At the craft faire there were many booths, but we only had over an hour which wasn’t enough time to hear all the stories of people. And I can’t show the pictures where I get surprise gifts which might for example be in the post now or soon. But I did find Whimsical Preserves, who makes the Strawberry Mango – only 2 left, or 1 now as I got one (Linda bought the peach as it is her favorite flavour – she has it on her toast). There was also a lot of nice blackberry ones, like blackberry plum. I asked if she had brandied cherries and she said she might have some and bring them to the faire next week in James Bay for me (see her there! But the Cherries are for me! Yum, in Trifle, on deserts, in flambe!). At this point I told Linda:

Elizabeth: “Ug, I don’t like this picture, I look REALLY sick in it” (and my braid is completely hidden in the hoodie)

Linda: “You look sick because you ARE sick.”

Beth: Grumble grumble

Linda: “Considering you were fading in and out of consciousness the whole drive up there, you are looking pretty good.”

Beth: “Oh, I do? Okay, I guess.”

Linda: “You want other fact, I had to give you mouth to mouth again, in the van.”

Beth: “When?”

Linda: “Uh, um, was it when we got back? Hmm….”

Beth: “See, I can understand not remembering, but YOU should be able to remember” (is this so common?), “I bet you can remember when you get some more sleep.”

Linda: “Okay, see you later.”

Um, back to the craft faire, I met her partner and he and her children LOVE Ghibli films, and particularly Totoro (the children can SAY Totoro and like it, they also like Whisper of the Heart – which is one of Linda and my favorite films along with Only Yesterday – the UK subtitles are the best, just a note). However I was hurried along to many other stalls.

I talked to the man who shapes copper and wow, does he do an amazing job. If I had a window which could see outside, I would definitely get one. This smaller one I guess a foot and a half or more tall is $45 (20 pounds), and look at ALL the colours he has created just by stretching and manipulating the copper, none of it is painted on. Also, he was one of the few people who a) understood what it meant to have autonomic failure and b) had an appropriate reaction. He also understood what happens to me when planes take off, good in science and human biology. I wish I had talked longer.

When even the people who deal with people with disabilities or doctors play this game where they have no treatment, they have no plan, they have had no treatment for years. Right now I amsustained by artificial breathing, an prosthetic brain device, wheelchair, inability to feel to the point that today I had blood coming out of my mouth again due to a chip or something I must have rammed in my gums and not felt (I don’t feel below my sternum at all) prostetic upper and lower intestines, and drugs for helping the heart. So it gets tiring hearing how I shouldn’t leave my hospital bed but that I am going to out live them, or ‘Any of us could go at any time.’ – well yes, but unless I get a sniper rifle and voice activation box to aim it, I am the higher candidate for dying than them by FAR.

Sorry distracted. I like this picture a lot, I don’t know why. Maybe because I could do this, simply because I can’t taste stuff. Maybe because I want a kitty. Or to be a kitty. Kitty’s get to say no all the time, and if you upset them, they vomit in your shoes – that seems like a reasonable plan. And sleeping a lot is NORMAL for them plus they don’t care if it is business hours or not, and returning phone calls. And when they want attention they ‘decide’ to sleep on your computer keyboard. Yes, being a cat is okay (until the vet and they bring out the needle the size of YOU!).

We did 94 postcards. Thank you for each person who wrote me, those letters and postcards mean a lot. It matters, writing me, emailing me. It matters.

I hope the 94 postcards will matter, arriving early enough to avoid the ‘More Xmas post, just toss it on the pile.’ Someone asked me what I did. I said I guess I do postcards. When they found out the number I had sent they said, ‘you mean like e-mail postcards’. No, I meant like, find the right postcard for the right person, buy postcards individually, find stickers and send them out. ‘But...but...no one does REAL mail any more.’ Well, I do. We do, Cheryl, Linda and I.

Whimsical Preserves: rare jelly and diabetic jam, a 1933 Model T Truck, Postcards and Hawaii.

Say 'Hey!' to Tanya of Whimsical Preserves.She makes organic regular and rare jams/jelles AND organic diabetic Jams and Jellies. We have tried her and her stuff is the bomb (this means it is good, like ‘really good’). She is at our James Bay Farmer’s Market and there are six more weeks until this season is over and then it is on to fall and winter (brandied cherries, yum!).

Tanya believes in getting the fruit herself or directly from a local farmer. So for her blackberry jams she picks her own vines of blackberries, the Victoria ones, which are as big as a thumb and sweet as can be. If she has to get fruit off the island, like Peaches, she gets them from British Columbia, so they are FRESH. The only thing she can’t seem to find local are Mango’s. If you want her email, let me know, and you can email her for find out if she does a flavour/flavor or preorder some diabetic jam for Saturday. I will be happy to pick up and post the jams for you. “But Beth I have my own Farmer’s markets!” Well, yes, but they might not have: Peach, blueberry, blackberry, raspberry, strawberry and other diabetic jams to order. They also don’t have hand-picked Saskatoon Berry wine jelly. Oh yeah, and it is $5 a jam or jelly. Here are a FEW of her better (and rarer) flavors. From the top left down that is Sangria (yes, the mixed drink from south America) Jelly, Saskatoon Wine Jelly (hand-picked berries from the north by Tanya), Raspberry-Mango Jam, Kiwi Daiquiri (Kiwi, Sugar, Pineapple Juice from Concentrate, Lime Juice, Pectin and RUM!), Nectarine Ginger Jam and Lime Marmalade (Yum). Every Jam has the ingredients and the weight, and if you give the jar back you get twenty five cents of the $5 back. Most are 250 grams but the ones with rare or expensive items like the Sangria Jelly or Saskatoon Berry (first and main ingredient in both is red wine) are 125 grams.

It is hard to get good diabetic jam, organic diabetic jam in town and she is one of the only Jam makers (all the other Jam makers I ask say, “Yeah, I get asked for that all the time.....Nope, don’t have any”) who makes it and will try to make it to order if she can. All the Jams are organic and natural so refrigerate after opening please!

That is what I did on Saturday, went down to the Farmer’s Market to pick up jam. Because these are not the types of items a person can get everywhere, and there are but a few short weeks left. And as it turned out there was someone there selling Organic Buffalo, so we ended having Buffalo Burgers all weekend (very lean!). The previous week there had been a free petting zoo from the owners of the Beacon Hill Park Petting Zoo. The owner has his 1933 Model T Ford 1.5 Ton truck with all original parts that he is very proud of. There are only 20 of these left in existence, and this one was in California. Victoria is a destination and place for collectable cars, with a recent convention of Bentleys, and us seeing 1910’s British cars with running boards, or old MG race cars as just part of a normal sunny day. Everyone brings out the collector’s and vintage cars into the sun.

I was pretty ill this weekend, and have a few medical appointments this week. So a big sigh. I did a lot of research on Hawaii this last week (8-10 hours a day some days), because it turned out that getting tickets on an airline was the least of the issues. We have to find a place to stay in Honolulu and the Big Island when $250 a night is cheap, and $400 is standard. And it happens that the week we are going to the Big Island is when the Ironman Triathlon is on. On one hand, “Cool”, on the other hand, getting flights off the island and accommodation booked much less a car rented is getting difficult with 1,000+ people and families coming. This is the biggest/important global Triathlons annually, which a involves a 5 mile swim,a 125 mile bike ride and then a marathon run to finish. So many people want to do THIS race, you have to either qualify by time or enter the lottery to get a spot (of which about 1 in 5 might get one). Here is Kelly Bruno making a record on her second Ironman in what is considered one of the toughest in the world as she runs into Kona, Hawaii.

Problem with my research on Hawaii and the accommodations, flights, vehicle rentals is that I work for many hours, then give the summation of the information to Linda or Cheryl before I forget it: brain damage means when it goes out of my day or 2 day zone, sorry but I can't remember. Cheryl has written a blog post on going to Hawaii which probably has the kind of details they hide from me. Either way this weekend I was punked bad, clocking up over 12 seizures on Saturday. There were the ones Linda dealt with, the ones Cheryl dealt with, the ones I had on my own and the ‘big one’ that wiped out that last 3+ hours of the day from my memory. Seizures are not ‘the bomb’ (they bad!) and by the end of the day I was having problems breathing due to ripped rib muscles. So I rested. Meaning, I did NOT do the 48 postcards of last week including these oversized ones with classic pulp covers. Did I do none? Well, I did a FEW (16?, 18?) but I did manage to find some BIG ones, ordered online: 8 inches by 10 inches to 8.5 by 11 inches. It turns out that doing stickers on BIG postcards take longer, like an hour longer. Gee, who knew! Yes, now I send postcards as large as a poster! So yeah, I went to bed a bit later. But next week, when I can breathe without a wince, I am going for the big score – still about 220 postcards for August. Woot!

I have to go rest again now, and will get the yarn and all the other fun stuff in posts as fast as I can. The synthoid is helping me be alert, even if my body has bits dropping off, and I have different beats/blood pressure on the two sides of my body. Hey, we can’t all have the same blood pressure right? So I hope you had a great weekend. Please check out Cheryl’s post and if you want any of Whimsical Preserves, let me know and I will give you Tanya’s email or just go buy them for you.

P.S. – due to problems with my voice at the end of the day (low oxygen rasp, slurring, and saying wrong words - it is no good for Dragonspeak) and my hand, even in the forearm holders having too much pain to type, I have added wrist immobilizer/braces to the WishList that Cheryl recommends. If anyone can recommend others, please let me know. I am trying to solve the problem of Elizabeth=blog, blog=some use of hands.

Weekend of passion & colour: Soap, Stoneware, Jewelry, Postcards

It seems that when disabled, and in pain (a LOT of pain) then the pleasure is found in the small spaces: actions between the uncertainty. I was woken by the sound of three trucks and two to three jackhammers today as the “three day” demolition job (according to the project manager) goes into its third week. So better to think on the nicer things that happened this weekend, amongst and around the unpleasant.

On Saturday it was overcast. Overcast means I can go outside! So Linda said that if I could make it out of bed we could go to the James Bay Market (instead of the Moss Street one – our city is blessed with Markets). By “make it out of bed” she meant, if I could move my limbs, as I could not the night before, and I think even Cheryl was having to help me move my head. But as a friend with Lupus told me, “the more you move, the more the pain starts to go into the background…” (the rest of that is, “….and after about four hours of moving slow, then a bit more, you are ready to go.”). I had to be ready to go in 30-40 minutes, and made it out the door with some help from my friends.

I was wearing sweats and had no money with me, and Linda soon ran out of money so it was more of a ‘lets see what is possible’ event than a spending spree (though if there is something you are love with, please speak up as we will definitely be going back). The first thing I saw were the skull pot warmers. I mean, what says goth but using skull warmers to take out the Tuna Casserole. But then I started to think, “how will guests feel about my Borsch as it sits on the skull and crossbones, universal sign of danger and death?”

I rolled on, over grass (it was held on a field) to Mystic Glass Creations. Tyler, the owner and crafter, blows his own glass, though some of the images are etched with laser and then the glass blown around them. Most items were in the $15-20 range, like this necklace which changes colour as the light reflects off of it from different angles. I liked that one. We have at least one reader who is into mushrooms and they were a steal at I think $10 for your own personalized mushroom necklace – what perfect accessory for your next meeting (confuse them to bits!).
Tyler also does scenes of West Coast Tide Pools, which were made entirely of blown glass. They are complete with anemone, starfish, sea cucumber and the rest. He creates them by blowing glass and then shaping it down into a disc shape before doing something called ‘imploding’ which sounds pretty neat and is what brings all the colour up into the shapes. Everything in these tide pools is made out of glass. Cheryl and I thought this one would be perfect for Linda. She REALLY likes the tide pools necklaces but the one with orange she wouldn’t wear and the one with the blue and purple I thought was perfect for her. But she said she probably wouldn’t wear it. Well, today she tells people at the office and they think it is really NEAT, so where is it? So now she is thinking that if she DID get it, she would wear it. However, like I said, if I like something it is expensive, while the rest is $15, the tide pools are $60 due to the extensive labor in glass blowing.

From there I went a few stalls over to Katy Adams at Living Earth Pottery. She makes stoneware and other pottery and much of the red pottery is again in the $15-20 range. This bowl is one of the few blue ones she has left. It is microwave and dishwasher safe and hardy due to being stoneware but also barely a few ounces, certainly not a pound. Both Cheryl and I, used to the weight of pottery were impressed by the light weight. The bowl, was of course, $35 (if I like it, just double the prices you see on other items and that is what the item I want will cost). The problem was it was too big for me to use as a bowl, just a little too large, as the liquid inside is too much for me to control or hold, even on my lap. Then I saw THE PLATE. I loved the plate, it was a beautiful dark blue with black etching. The black comes from wax which is used to decorate the plate after the stone ware is ‘thrown’ on the wheel and put on the batik overlay, then in the kiln, during the glazing process, the wax melts, leaving a shadow of itself behind, the black decoration. Of course, I like THIS so as you can see, it is $55. Sigh. Oh well. She does do commissions but told me she is booked up until July 2010. Did I want to put myself down for a color and a commission? Sorry, not quite that optimistic, not when the hospital results say I’m medically malnourished.

Linda was returning from Whimsical Preserves with her jar of Peach Nectarine for the morning toast. Each jar was $5 and .25 if you return the jar. I was impressed with her delightful diabetes safe jam, which was not just ONE, in raspberry as you see in this picture but was a total of three rows, of which only two rows are in the pictures. I was also impressed simply by the experimentation and delightful colors and ideas, like this Fire and Ice wine Jelly, I mean where else does one go to get your ice wine (second ingredient) in your jelly?

There was another passionate soap lady name Shelia Adams, who sold not only the regular array of multicolored soaps you can see behind me, but also soaps specifically for men for shaving. Not your average soap, which came in Sandalwood. I asked if it was real Sandalwood, as I have heard that is very expensive and she said no it is a synthetic compound (the regular soaps were $4 each, the Sandalwood lathering soap was $10 – or about 6 pounds). The soap is specifically made to reduce the drag on the razor by using Fullers Earth Clay and then Shea butter and Goats Milk to reduce any irritation.

I loved the swirls in her soap, particularly the ones in Olive Oil, though I couldn’t stop thinking of Popeye. The woman was very dedicated and had bits of soap for people to rub for the smell. For example in her Slice of Citrus, she not only had orange, grapefruit and lemon grass but would take the peels, and shred them up and then add them as zests for exfoliate.

Linda picked up her favorite, Lavender. When we went up island, a gift of Lavender Massage oil was spilled (onto her clothes) though it was sealed but enough was left for us to give each other Lavender Massages (I recommend it, particularly IN a two person hot tub with jets). So she picked up a bar at $4 to keep the memory and go to work smelling Lavender fresh.

Of course, what west coast market is complete without the tie-dyed clothes. There used to be a woman selling lots of tie-dyed clothes at Moss Street Market but she moved to Australia (long commute). Another woman was selling here. I liked these baby clothes in tie-dye. I had bought several things as gives for my unseen nieces and nephews when Linda went to visit last time, like hats or a tie-dyed purse for the 7-8 year old girl (she loved it). The children of the conservative father, I sent only tie-dyed sun hat for the little girl and socks for the boy. Apparently they were NOT used, possibly because he did not want to expose his 2 year old and 4 year old to this kind of drug culture clothing. Errrrr……what?

By this time I had talked myself blue. It is funny how these expressions must have come from people with my conditions because I CAN talk myself until my lips and fingertips turn blue. So it was back into the van and air conditioning and then back home.

I took an hour at home to take pictures from the art books which I had marked with post-it notes for pictures. The weekend is the only time I have enough people to help me hold open the book and take the pictures for the blogs of the coming weeks and months.

Regarding postcards and Stickers, FINALLY, this last week I had sorted out the corner behind me thanks to Linda. She gave me a three drawer plastic cabinet and I gave two drawers for stickers, one for kids and one for adults and then sorting within those drawers, and one for postcard books.

What I wanted from this time on was for me to spend more time on each person, which meant more time on each postcard. Time spent in selection and time spent stickering (which has been neglected lately) and deliberate stamping. I wanted to improve. But I didn't want to make the postcards more flashy or crammed with more on them, indeed I wanted more open space to write. But I wanted to refine what was on them in order to make them better, closer to greatness. So that is what we did. It took longer to sticker and the table was full, first of all the children’s stickers and the adults. After that, we went into stamping, having a good idea of the theme in mind.

To give you an example, in the top postcard I made a linear link of colour stampings of the history of the cat starting with Semet, the Egyptian cat god (in purple). Then a stamp of the wild cats before the stickers of the domestic cats (I didn’t quite have enough room for a color rubber stamp of that). The one below it combines the colors of the kimono with the flower sticker and the sticker which is one of the ancient family crests of Japan, which is reflected in the colours of the Japanese Fan color stamp. It took longer to do, it took overnight to dry.

Function and pain-wise, I was having a bad weekend and at points could not use my hands, or, due to pain, was not understanding what was going on, or even where I was, only the pain. So, when lucid, I estimated the maximum number of postcards we could do was 35 based on the time left and how much time I had to write the postcards, which I placed at six to ten I could write an hour if there were no breaks, four to four and a half hours straight. It turned out that I had miscounted and 37 postcards were done and have already been posted a couple days ago.

Though I have many postcards (like several hundred) I am in desperate need of great quality postcards. The problem is that, as we say, 'we get them in, and then we send them out.' So if someone has a very specific request or style, then the regular postcard isn’t going to do (many, many requests for postcards of the moon). I can’t send diners, or just any old scenery, or even any old cat photo, I have to send postcards that are ‘more.’ Some come from Oxford. But they are going (any postcards of illuminated manuscripts would be greatly appreciated - seriously, along with clear, large and colorful ones of the animals specific to your area of the world – something that would appeal to cognative disability programs or children, particularly those in the autism spectrum). I am hoping you understand? I can't do this alone, and I want to give EVERY person the best.

To give you an example, I bought a set of 12 Lamento Postcards online, and sent them out, catboys in anime. That set is now going for $100 (just 12 postcards). I finished a postcard set of Hawaii, it had good detail, excellent colour, and a map of Hawaii on the back; I thought I should go get another. Except now it is a rarity and selling for $50. Some postcards I bought from Amazon in German in order to get a particular photographer. We are almost out of Escher, and Ansel Adams, and Frank Llyod Wright and graveyards in black and white……. I am desperate to find the highest quality postcards, many do come in, from all over the globe, and many which I have purchased from all over the globe but they go out just as fast!

This week I cleaned out a limited edition box set (perfect size and quality for stamping, excellent colour and variety) which went out, now out of print, with special limted edition stickers on it from an anime series showing adults both straight and same sex couples in love. Those stickers? Turns out I bought the last box when I asked the supplier in Japan for another (out for 2-3 years). It was $55 and shipping for the box of 40 stickers and yet, the quality of the stickers was ‘more.’ To be honest, a lot of the best of our stickers and some of our postcards come from readers; the Dr. Suess stickers – what fun we had with those. Postcards, sometimes just three or four and immediately we put names on the back, recognizing how this will make person 431 happy or person 67 content or person 274 simply not able to believe we found one. I have to take the credit because of confidentiality but thank you to those who sent in the postcards which were ‘more’, the stickers which were ‘more’, which were gothic and sassy, which were perfect for kids, which were Japanese monsters, that postcard made of a giant rubber squid.

So that was the weekend, Saturday and into Sunday and I’m not sure why I went on so much about the postcards except for two reasons: 1) I am only a single human being and cannot actually GO places, plus I have a limited viewpoint – other people CAN go places and have lots of viewpoints (like if you know where to get Edgar Allen Poe or Edward Gorey postcards or postcards showing the 17th Century? I'm serious and those are just one small subsection, about 10%-14% of the 40 we send out a week). And 2) I wanted those people who get the postcards and anyone who has ever participated by seeking out the 'more' postcards and stickers, or sending in from an extra stamp to a sheet of them to know that every week what they did mattered. But also, because of THEM, and for me, I try HARDER. I try to make it so that each postcard is the best it can be, that each postcard is amazing or the RIGHT postcard for that person, even if I could use it for 40 OTHER people but it would not be just the RIGHT fit as that one person, and I will never see that postcard again. And I may have just taken it out of an envelope from someone who sent it to help less than a day before. You also never get to hear what happens to your postcard, like a solo played in the night, you never find out who heard you, and what it meant to them, what difference it made. But YOUR postage stamp is on that chosen postcard, and it wouldn’t be possible without you.

I wanted people who get the postcards and have gotten them to know, that I am human, and I fail but I do try, with all my mental powers that I have that week and my ability, indeed beyond my ability, to make sure each postcard is correct and the best one for you. That is my goal, and sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fail, and without Linda, and Cheryl and other unnamed and sometimes unseen hands that would not be possible.

As I learned in the ER; caring with full concentration on what the OTHER person wants or needs is what makes the difference.

There are times that Linda HATES the postcards, the project, the ‘surprise gifts’ because she sees the pain that I receive, over and over again. She hates the fact that I can send out 50 postcards, that took me four or five days of late nights making them and the last two nights I was working straight through, and she KNOWS that I will never hear from any of those people. I KNOW.

Cheryl will bring over for another week nothing but postcards from a single individual, sometimes a letter from the same individual and then the supplies I have bought myself. Sometimes it is week after week, like that, and week after week, I pour myself out like a fountain. Linda told me that she does not ‘believe.’ I go on day and day, week and week. Today I showed you the postcards in hopes that you liked them, it is true. But I will go on for a week, for two, not having received a postcard, an email, for three weeks, for four, no packages, for five, for six, for seven. I go on, hundreds of postcards sent out and as I completely open myself, committing myself to loving someone in the way that is needed to think only of what the other person needs for hours then I will get hurt. I will hurt very badly, attacked, isolated, alone, simple, childlike, crying. But I go on because I believe. I believe that if I do it right, if I do it often, if I do my best, that some of them will intersect with unexpected results. To break solitude, to help foster joy, to simply be there when needed, and in many ways I do not know.

Linda cannot stand the sight of me unable to sit up straight, half my face smiling as I had a TIA (mini-stoke) because I am finally done. She gets angry, she says when I am lying down, after the painkillers and the moaning and shrieks, with tears running down my face into pools in the pillow in order to keep my face straight, to keep myself from groaning in pain. My body, broken to serve.

Send a card to Linda, because she cleans up the pain, she holds me while I sob a broken heart and then start again. She wants to scream in frustration but then sits down and helps me sort postcards. If you cannot write to me, then write to her because I do believe. Somewhere out there, something has happened, is happening that makes the fusing of work and agony worth it; because I do not see it, because I do not hear it does not make it less true.

That was my weekend.