like the song says...like some forgotten dream

we still go visit mom every day. for me, it's getting more like these lyrics: "we don't talk much more" "she sits and stares" "what's new?" "like some forgotten dream" "nothing, what's with you?" "nothing much to do."



i guess that's why i take awol with me. that mutt has it down. in his own way he goes to every single person and says, "helloooo in there...hello."

i keep trying not to blog because i don't like to whine. at least not publicly. but the truth is it's been a trying few weeks, i guess. now that i have a relatively positive mom anecdote...i still feel the need to get it right, to put it in context, to be honest in the telling.

so maybe i'll just copy and paste a few "mom reports".

no. the family has already read those emails and responded. and this blog is essentially for them, anyway. no. i need to come up with a reason. some sort of universal truth, some epiphany to make it worthy, a literary device (a gouge... hahahhahahahha.)
i'm thinking of a deciduous tree. could that work? both the cause (mom's well-being) and the effect (my reluctance to write about her) are cyclical. deciduous.

yes. i'll work on that.

until we meet again... Read more!

4-22-09, brand new alzheimer's research reported

"Taking a new approach to the treatment and prevention of Alzheimer's disease, a research team led by investigators at the Mayo Clinic campus in Florida has shown that druglike compounds can speed up destruction of the amyloid beta (A-beta) proteins that form plaque in the brains of patients with the disorder."

i think there really is hope for many of the rest of us...

-----------------

we took the alz residents back to richland college for a picnic lunch and concert yesterday. it was mostly awesome.

the only unawesome thing about the deal was mom being an asshole.

while waiting for the bus mom says:
"what the hell are we doing?"
"i'd rather go back to bed."
"what the hell are we doing sitting here?"
"this is stupid."

so i did the ignoring thing. when we got on the bus i mentioned what a beautiful day it was.
"harumph," says she.

ok. be that way...(she can be so exasperating)

we ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches by the lake. [picture would not upload]*
it was 75-80 degrees with a nice breeze. i asked if she was enjoying the day. i asked if she was enjoying being out in the real world in such nice weather. she agreed it was very nice. she might have even smiled.

we went in to the concert hall where the music department of this small junior college was going to do their monthly performance. *

there was a jazz band.*

and a jazz choir.*

& another lab band...*

it was all really surprisingly good. better than good.

the choir was backed up by a drummer and an electric bass player.* they also did an a capella number providing their own percussion, etc.* (i have a video of that, but my internet connection is apparently too slow to let me upload it to a web album.)

both bands were good. the second one did a thelonius monk song* and a charlie parker tune.* pretty damn good stuff. especially for a bunch of kids. i'd give 'em all an A.
well, except for that one kid in blue jeans.* (dang nab it! those videos didn't upload, either.)

-----------------


leaving the performance hall, i asked mom if she enjoyed the concert.

"not one damn minute of it!"

i looked at her in astonishment. i was flabbergasted.
i gathered myself, and said, "then next time maybe you and i will just stay outside by the lake and skip the music."
and she agreed to that. almost cordially.

we walked back to the bus.* on that walk, i held my hand on her shoulder thinking about how lucky she is to have full time caregivers who are not so emotionally involved...

-----------------

"exasperating" is an understatement. sometimes she just flat-out pisses me off. the whole ride back, everyone else went on and on about how much and what they liked about the music. the old-timey-ness of it, the big band sound, the youngsters, it made them wanta dance!, etc.. the alz god had given them a momentary break from their ungodly stupor. it was an exhilarating experience for all of us and for different reasons.

...almost all of us. mom was all piss and vinegar again. "not one damn minute of it."...

-----------------

when we got back up to her room she astonished me again by having the wherewith all to apologize for being such an old grump. and we hugged.

meh.
i guess that's hope enough for me.

==================

* but i have little hope for this blog if i can't upload a video. much less a freakin' picture. i'll see y'all on the flip side. cornbread out.





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who is your hero? [edited 1-20-09]

the first question that the Levite asked was, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?"

read the whole thing here.

what? you didn't read it. get back.

[edit: for a much more interesting and salient tribute, check this shit out from mr. bullet holes...] 

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i just learned that a blogger friend's mother died last night. i didn't know either one of them other than through this internet thing. but i can't stop crying.

the daughter is a true caregiver. she kept her mom in her home and cared for her until almost the very end; she washed her, fed her, was her companion and loving support.

the mom had alzheimer's.
i have mixed emotions. i feel for the daughter's indescribable loss and pain...i'm glad the mom is rid of hers.



when we 1st "met" i thought our moms sounded to be at pretty much the same stage of progression, but that wasn't so. my mom is still healthy - unbelievably so. she has lost more cognitive ability in the past month than in the past year, but she's still hanging in there and tries hard to catch a glimpse...she sleeps a whole lot more recently. i can see that weekly.

but she's still here. and for that i am grateful. i'm not ready for that. i guess i never will be?

peace to you and yours, Robyn.









my sister took us to walmart a few weeks ago and mom drove a go-cart for the first time ever. damn! she did good job maneuvering through the herds and strays of christmas shoppers.
and she didn't hit a single one. 

...or remember that she'd had such fun the next day. but she still likes hearing about it later.

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guess what i'm giving everyone for christmas...

The Day of Judgement

from the center panel of the

Memling Triptych in Gdańsk.

come judgement day, i'm pretty sure i'll be headed straight to hell for that one.  and for trying so dang hard to get out of christmas this year. only to be over ruled, i might add.

[phone call]

"are you serious? do you have a reason?"

"i've got half a dozen reasons."

"good."

before i even got to the 3rd one i was interrupted and the rest was never spoken.

as rodney daingerfield used to say, "i don't get no respect."

sometimes i hate being loved.

nothing personal, but...

bah fucking humbug.

------------------------------

this is unrelated, but it brought a much needed smile to my face. it's highly addictive, loads of fun...and very civilized, if you ask me.

and if you watch the 2nd video here you'll see my xmas offering at exactly the 2:57-2:58 mark.

(and if you watch the 1st video, tell me if you were as surprised as i was that there was no adolescent-boy-breast-poking involved.)

merry christmas, y'all

p.s.

Juste judex ultionis,
donum fac remissionis
ante diem rationis.

 

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Louise and I had been hitchhiking for several months. I think we were returning from New Hampshire and points between when we arrived in Denton, Texas in the spring of '70. Denton is a college town just north of Dallas. We had several friends going to school there. We spent a few days sitting in on classes and sleeping on couches. Suddenly it was spring break and time to move on.

One of our new friends invited us to go with himself and a couple of others to Port Aransas for splash day. How could we refuse? This was a 19 year old kid's dream. A Texas beach full of crazy, partying, Boones Farm Apple Wine drinking college boys. And girls!

As if that weren't incentive enough, our host was a rich kid. No, a very rich kid. I kid you not...we flew to Port Aransas in his private airplane. Our opening act was to buzz the beach from about 60 feet overhead.

If you've ever been to spring break you have some idea of what goes on. There are literally 10,000 college kids, very little sleep happens, much less sobriety and 3 days later, everyone disappears. Everyone goes back to school. Back to their responsibilities. 

Only, Louise and I had no classes to return to and our responsibility at the time was to explore. So we waved goodbye and we stayed.

With only a few dollars in my pocket, I decided to find a job. Told there was usually work on shrimp boats over at Aransas Pass, just a few miles up shore,  off we went. We went from boat to boat to boat with no luck. With only one boat in the harbor we hadn't yet asked, things were looking pretty grim. The captain was a not so friendly 30-something Yugoslavian. He was setting out at 3am the next morning and could use a "header", but I couldn't bring my dog.

did I mention Louise was my dog?

Louise was a stubby, little, curly-haired mutt named after my favorite sculptor at the time, Louise Nevelson. Louise Nevelson was famous for her black, found-object constructions. My Louise was solid black. My Louise stayed with the captain's wife and kids in town while we went out 500 miles into the Gulf of Mexico. 

I can't say what Louise did for those 30 days, but I had an adventure on a 50 foot shrimp boat with 2 crazy men, one of whom enjoyed threatening to throw me overboard daily. I started out seasick and ended up climbing on outriggers to disentangle nets in violent storms. I ate fresh snapper and moray eel and worked 20 hours a day and saw the sun rise and set on the ocean's horizon. I once saw the full moon rise as the sun set with nothing but ocean and sky and our small craft to interupt the magnificence.  When I returned, Louise and I had bucks in our pockets and we hitched to Colorado where we ended up living on a mountainside for 3 months and working in a zinc mine.

well, *i* worked in the mine. Louise stayed at home protecting the tent.

(the photo is of Louise Nevelson, not Louise the dog.)

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11-22-63

many people my age and older remember this day as the anniversary of the day jfk was shot. on november 22, 1963 i was a 12 year old kid living in dallas.

but what i remember the day for, just as much, is as the day before the 1st anniversary of the day i watched my dog get run over on november 23, 1962.

that's not her, but it's as close as i could come up with from lookalike internet pictures of my cocker spaniel mutt. (i can't tell you her name because it's my secret code. i always use it as the answer to: *your 1st pet's name.*)

what i will tell you is that as an 11 year old i rode my bicycle a lot and all over the place and that she went with me most of the time.

one day we were headed up to the shopping center a few miles from home. it was the day the dallas public library bookmobile would be there. we were less than a block away and, as it turned out, so was the bookmobile.

******* saw it and got excited.

she ran after it happy, barking. me, pedaling as fast as i could behind when...all of a sudden ******* was sucked up under the vehicle and left lifeless, almost at my feet. she had a clean slit in her side. her heart was...in the middle of lanshire street just a few feet away from me. i really don't remember how we got home.

no disrespect meant to the kennedy family, but that's what i remember this time of year.



i was also going to tell you about louise, my 2nd dog, who hitchhiked all over the country with me in the early '70s, but i think i'll save that story for later.
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suck it trebek

i suppose this counts as a post, but i don't really like this NaBloPoMo crap. the title of the last post, "physical features," was intended for the next installment of the mosaic map series i'm working on. but it wasn't finished. it still isn't and i refuse to rush it. besides, i have a life. of sorts...

today i was a carpenter.

and today i was a son, and a puzzle doer, and a maid and a cook for myself, and a peace keeper for stupid fucking neighbors.

tomorrow, if i'm lucky, i'll be a "writer" again. and if not...

suck it nablopomo Read more!

physical features

i went to the junkyard today. took a bunch of pictures. there were little shoes and pictures of people and baby bottles in some of the cars. it was weird. i didn't take pictures of those things. that's all for now.

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tears of joy.

tired of people posting about the election? tough. but i'll keep it short...

the daughter called last night. in tears.
called the son. in tears.
he was sobbing, too.
got an email from a friend:
"Yee fucking haw! that is all."

it was an emotional night. and for good reason. history was made. hope was reborn. i believe america grew up in a way last night.


another email from a friend:

Although we're miles apart, I'm celebrating tonight's victory with you. We all remember the civil rights march. Growing up in south Florida, I also remember separate bathrooms and water fountains, graduating from an all-white high school, and the teacher who proudly declared that he was black...that no one had colored his skin.

I have never been more proud to be an American.

and maybe my favorite email:
"I feel like i died and went to America."

today i am more proud of america that i have ever been in my life. and by the way, i thought mccain's gracious concession speech showed real class. i also wish mlk and barbara jordan and ann richards were here to see what is happening. Read more!

classy. Very classy.

this is my new toaster oven. i paid 2 bucks for it at a yard sale and used at least 2 bucks of soap and water to clean it up.

it works like a charm.

let's just say rick's been in toast heaven all week...


and this is my front door.


i'll paint the front door green tomorrow. and maybe change the decoration...or not...(click pic to enlarge for your viewing Pleasure.)



this is my kitchen. check out the toaster. 

did i mention i have a freakinG TOASTER?!!!!

you're jealous, aren't you?

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it's story time...

once upon a time there was a man. a very lucky man. this man had a daughter. the daughter brought him great joy. joy beyond his wildest dreams. the daughter amazed him daily. amazement greater than the sun and the moon.

every evening at bedtime the man and the daughter read books together. sometimes the man made up stories. one night during this ritual the man had to excuse himself for a bit. when he returned, the man picked up the book they had been reading and, mostly to himself, asked, "now where were we, daughter?"

the daughter, who was barely 4 years old at the time, pointed to the word 'the' and said... "'the' was the last word you read to me, daddy." and to the utter amazement of the man, the daughter read the words that followed.

and the man cocked his head in wonder.


"did you just read that?," the man asked.

----------------------------
the fact is, she had read it. she had somehow learned to read without being taught. by... observation? by...some mysterious gift of the mind? 

the man still cannot fathom it completely, much less explain it. what is...simply is. 
----------------------------

...and the daughter grew up to be the most extraordinary woman the man had ever known.



just in case the preceding hasn't embarrassed the daughter enough, i present to you now one of the first stories i know of that she wrote (and *copywrited*) herself.

6-7 years old:





ok...maybe she is just a little bit crazy. but what can you expect considering her early influence?





"who is the smartest and most beautiful woman in the world?", the man asked...


the daughter hesitated and the man answered his own question: "well it's Josephine T. Bibby of course. and don't you ever, ever doubt it."

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and they call the wind moriah...

when it's over 90 degrees and the wind just blows the hot air around...well, that sucks.

but when the wind blows like it did today, 20-50! mph, it's pure delight.

"the air feels so much cooler. walks are transformed from desperate getaways into welcome respite. trees' swayings make this treehouse a virtual haven. i like looking out the open windows and imagining the wildly moving branches are causing the breeze to blow."

~mumblecrust






----------------

i remember it from the kingston trio. you may remember it from "paint your wagon" (insert rebus of your own liking.) or from clint eastwood?

whatever...i've always loved this song.

and this guy fucking Nailed it:





(no consistent intor-web access here. i'll see ya when i see ya, but check back anyway. ok?) Read more!

a very short post in memorium...

Joe and Jo



10 years ago this week my dad died. this is a picture i snagged from my daughter's twitter icon.

my favorite things about that photo? the *ow-ie* on his knee. and the patriotic t-shirt he's wearing. and the serious expressions...and the quilt in the foreground, and the print of harold's on the wall, and the chair...

aw, fuck it. i like Everything about it.


i think that picture was taken on jo's birthday. about 15-16 years ago? at 6234 velasco. i think i still have that book, too. Read more!

2 pics from the past

♫ ♫ listen, listen, listen...

...to my heart's song ♫ ♫...
these won't mean anything to but a few, but they were brought to my attention tonight by a friend and they mean a whole hell of a lot to me...

i'm just *saving* pictures here on blogger as they come in.

that's all for now, folks. Read more!

work stuff

yesterday i went with harold to visit and photograph some of his fireplace carvings. at one point we passed a house where i had done some work years ago and i said, "pull in here." i knew the original homeowners no longer lived there, but there was one project i did there i'd never gotten a photo of. plus, i've since lost all of my digital copies of the rest.

i'm not exactly sure when it was i did this job. i do remember my son sean helping me lay the stone and brick patios and he was about 11 or 12 at the time, so i guess that puts it about 1995 or '96. i also remembered it being a job site with at least one example of every type of work i do: from the pedestrian tile, slate, brick and stone flatwork; to designing, building and installing mosaics; to designing and carving stone relief sculptures.

the original homeowners liked to travel and one of their interests was old scottish, irish and english castles. at one point in the project they decided they wanted the shower in their guesthouse to look like a castle! how cool is that? after a little (or a lot of) research of castle elements, this is what i came up with...

there wasn't much room to deal with so i had to keep it simple. the 8" x 8" rustic tile walls were meant to simulate heavy stone masonry walls. the arched *window* intended to stretch the space, is in the shape of the windows in one of their favorite castles. i don't remember now which one.

the italian glass, tile mosaic landscape looks pretty crude to me now. in fact, harold even said as much - that he didn't think it looked like my usual work. as i recall, my focus was on the colors rather than detail. there are probably 50-60 different blues, browns, golds, greens...i used to know how many, but don't remember now.

and there's something missing from the original installation: the bit of whimsy i normally include in some way in all of my work. in this case it was the sheep on the hillside, but someone had removed them.

you see, i'd gone to a local hobby shop and purchased seven HO-scale, plastic sheep. 6 white and one black. i'd sliced the backsides off with a blade and epoxied them to the tile. the homeowners loved it. when i asked the new owners about them, the wife looked perplexed, but the husband laughed and patted me on the back saying,"oh, i remember them. that was my favorite part! some guest must have removed them. would you like to find some more and get them back to grazing in my shower?"

would i!? HELL, yeah.

(he's also interested in seeing and finding a place for my original mock-up of the mosaic i did in his swimming pool. it's made of $450/square foot, real gold tile that the original owner decided against for aesthetic, not monetary, reasons, but in my opinion would have been a much more handsome finished product. the new guy agrees with me and who knows...maybe i'll get to redo it the way i thought it should have been done all along. suh-weet.)

the wreath is about 10-11 feet across, i think. it's an exact replica of a tiny (approx. 5" diam.)wrought iron detail on the iron gates at either end of the estate which was built in the 1920's. see what i mean about the contrast? even though the gold tile was nixed for being too *glitzy,* i think the darker contrast would be much more subtle and the gold would add a degree of sophistication rather than a gaudy quality.

...so, back to the *castle shower*...

this bench is made of tile that really looks like wood. i found this element in many of the pictures of castle interiors. placed in the stairwells usually, they were used to store weapons and food supplies in case of seige.



the photos we took of my stone carvings didn't turn out so well. when i go back i'll take some better ones and tell you a funny story that goes with them.
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i feel like dancin'...

just got back from the dr's. no surgery will be necessary.

that's spelled R-E---L-E-A-F, as in what all but the tallest trees around here have done with the advent of spring...i feel like a brand new person. (yes, i've been extremely worried about that possibility since my last visit. please feel free to dance, holler, and/or cry out with joy at any time.)

she also said the sublex fractures at c5-6 and c6-7 were finally beginning to noticeably heal and i probably have only 4-6 more weeks of wearing the neck brace. suh-weet.

i guess all the wild and crazy sex i've been havin' hasn't hurt anything, after all. ahahahahahaha.

wanta know what else i liked about the appointment? i didn't mind all the hours of waiting because i found a wired magazine in the waiting room. i'd never read one before, but i'm hooked. i learned enough interesting stuff to...well, enough to fill a magazine, i guess. it sure beats the hell outta the usual dr's office fare of people and us.

after the cut i'll announce the winner of the sitemeter referral contest...

i changed my mind. i'll do it in a separate post...i'm busy silently crying and celebrating right now. if i could dance i would. Read more!

HOTD

lately this has looked more like an abandoned blog than it really is. i'll start a post and lose interest, or more accurately, lose motivation. this time i set up outside hoping the different locale would spark a different attitude. (as i typed that it started to rain. )

but this time i'm letting my stubborness take over...

[ok, that was written 2 freakin' days ago. after it started sprinkling, i set up back inside. the sun came out again. i went back outside. it rained. now, i'd intended to include several of the 1/2-fleshed posts: the wedding, the silent house, the contest "prize" and more, but let's see if i even finish the HOTD story for now and then we'll go from there. ok?]

so, that picture was taken on valentine's day. the last time i saw mom. over 2 long weeks ago. it's breakin' my heart just to type that. just like the last few times i saw her and left her, i'm crying just thinking about it. no, not because of her condition. simply because i miss her.

back to the photo, rick.

they were having a valentine's party at the alzheimer's unit when my sisters and i went to visit that day. linda, the awesome person in charge of the residents' care, had a trivia game planned for them. to start it off she said, "now everyone put on their thinking caps."

mom nonchanlantly reached for, unfolded, and placed her napkin on her head.
(and that, my friends, is only a tiny part of why i love her.)



guess what? i'm on the bus, on my way to see her now. to take her to vote for her favorite republican and to vote for my favorite democrat myself. i hope to stay a few a days. i'll try my best to keep y'all posted. no promises, though.



whether it makes sense to anyone but myself, the following long-remembered quotation seems apropos to me.

"and the night shall be filled with music / and the cares, that infest the day / shall fold their tents, like the arabs, / and as silently slip away." ~longfellow~

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the lovely josephine comes to visit

my daughter lives in nacogdoches, but is registered to vote in austin so she drove the 240 miles yesterday to cast her early vote for barack obama. i can remember how empowered i felt the 1st time i was able to vote in a presidential election. good times.

of course the best thing about her visit was just that. her visit. some pics and reflections after the jump...

josephine recently cut her hair and donated it to *locks of love.* yesterday was the first time i'd seen her with her new do. the following is a slide show of stills from yesterday of josephine, my sister, reen, and myself. it's the 1st time i've tried embedding a slideshow, so you're on own negotioating your way through it, but if you can figure a way to flip through the 20 photos at a real fast clip it's almost like being there.



to describe the joy of spending 4 or 5 hours in relaxed conversation with my daughter is beyond my ability. let's just say she's a delight to be with and leave it at that.

another 1st occurred during our visit. i talked about the car wreck, the sounds, the different emotions, the severity and extent of both the accident and the injuries, as well as the healing that has taken place since. sharing details and recalling the experience out loud was cathartic in a way.

thanks, josephine. (and if you have that picture in your computer of you at about 1 year old with peach fuzz for hair, please send. i need to post it.)

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"where the hell are you?" (chris)*

the short version:

-what happened when? ...well, i had a little car wreck a couple weeks ago.
-where are you? ...in stephenville, texas at my sister's house.
-who's house? ...my sister's. she's my *caretaker* for now.
-how are you? ...i'm healing. i'm fine. a-ok.
-why didn't you let us know? ...oh, i dunno. just kinda "private, secretive, untruthful," i suppose.**

and please, no sympathy comments. ok?

a few pics after the cut...

-the car.
they cut the top off to get me out. and then i got a hellicopter ride!

-me.
when my 5 year old nephew 1st saw me after the fact, he said, "Wick, i'm sorwy about youwuh chin." so sweet.

hahahahahahaha.


-a view from the porch in stephenville.


-and a view of the porch.
the nights are so so star-filled it's breath taking. i like it here.

-me and my awesome sister. (photo taken about 6 years younger. how come she doesn't look any older and i do?)


-a therapist came in to the hospital room and asked the guy in the next bed did he know he was gonna be operated on the following day? no.
his legs were broken and he had lots of steel pins sticking out of them. he was being discharged a few days later. she told him she was gonna teach him how to get out of bed without any help so he'd be able to do so when he got home.
he said, "i don't have a home."

not my leg. my legs are fine. not his either. his looked much worse.



me? i may not like it, but i sure am lucky. (anyone up for a game of twister?)


*chris
**an idictment of me made by an ex several years ago. i'm just beginning to come to terms with the truth of it.

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