ENABLED BY DISABILITY

Magdalena Obert | Latest Music

2009-06-18T04:42:38Z

Magdalena Obert | Latest Music | Upload Music

My Children

2009-05-22T15:30:29Z

It's an enormous responsibility--having children. One that can be incredibly difficult to cope with, especially when they become adults, or think they have become one.

One child is having such a difficult time coping with the reality and responsibilities of the real world and yet he desires the respect and equality one adult gives to another... Yes he does deserve respect not for any accomplishments yet...but for the agony of trying to find one's place in this world. I believe that when he does, we'd all better look out.

Then there is another, and again, respect is an issue. I don't truly know this one although not for lack of trying and trying. This one lives in a world that I did not create nor would I want to live there. As long as this world makes this child happy, then I'm all for it. But I ..won't go knocking on that door. I did once and failed miserably. It breaks my heart because the world that I live in is not qualified by stilted rules and regulations and instead is a world of creativity, sharing of oneself outside the confines of one's own little corner of the world, and love.

Now there is a third child who lives in the same place as I do. Who is not afraid of trials and tribulations, faces each hurdle and leaps over them, and who IS an adult and given all the respect any adult should have. This one only needs to slow down and recognize that he has arrived at a significantly beautiful crossroad and that the path to take is clearly marked. But this child is so much like me that sometimes I fear that he will ignore the sign and go in the direction of "question mark" if only for satisfying his curiosity, the adrenaline rush of dramatic changes, for the pull of the unknown path has always been strong in my life and now it is in his. I pray that like me, he finally stands at this crossroad and happily runs down the clearly marked path to home. Many people are there waiting for him including myself. I no longer travel the path of the "question mark" roads. I'm happy for it and I too have finally grown up.

I miss my children. They are spread out every which way. They are busy with their lives. I sit here and wait for the phone calls or emails that gives me a peek into those lives.

So in ending, rememeber the enormous responsibility of having children that I spoke of? For me it's the letting go part of being a parent. One child forces it upon me. One child is in between worlds, and the last child is on the right road and needs to keep running on home. Let go Maggie, let go. They will find their way and it may not include you in an active part of their world, but you know what?

There is no qreater joy in the world than when you pick up the phone and you hear the word, "MOM?"

Magdalena Obert | Latest Music

2009-05-22T02:43:30Z

Magdalena Obert | Latest Music | Upload Music

Magdalena Obert | Hand-picked Music

2009-04-15T17:23:28Z

Magdalena Obert | Hand-picked Music | Upload Music

Felicita & John

2009-04-13T18:07:04Z

Felicita & John | Upload Music

Magdalena Obert | Hand-picked Music

2009-04-10T14:53:22Z

Magdalena Obert | Hand-picked Music

msknit @ 2009-04-09T15:08:00

2009-04-09T19:12:10Z

http://www.muziboo.com/maggieo/music

I don't know if this will work but it's a link to some of my music.

Where is the Silver Lining?

2009-04-08T03:36:30Z

I'm working very hard at finding the silver lining in the clouds, but it's been difficult of late. I'm still under the weather with a relapse. This affects many different aspects of my life. There are too many too mention and besides that, not only would I bore you with the details, but it bores me.

Another interesting development is the result of a mammogram. Of course! They found something that I need to follow-up with. So off to yet another Doctor tomorrow.

This going up and down the hills and valleys of my path in life is making me downright nauseous and quite frankly, I'm feeling a little resentful right now. I wish that things would just level off a bit. I think that if I could at least have my energy back, I would feel so much better. It would be easier to tackle all the other problems.

I haven't been working much on my fiber arts, but I'm working on my oil paintings and music instead. I still lead my ladies knitting group every Thursday without fail.

Would you like to hear a song? Does someone know how I upload a song? Let me know. Meanwhile take care.

I Miss My Kids

2009-03-11T12:58:46Z

Sigh!

I have three children, two human grandchildren, two canine grandchildren, and of course I have a canine son as well. With the exception of my maltese, the rest of the gang is off in different parts of the country. But even if they were nearby, it wouldn't be close enough.

Ah, the joys of motherhood and along with that, all the pain. They go hand-in-hand, joy and pain. One learns to juggle both trying to keep them both up in the air so as not to drop one of them, because you need one to feel the other.

My eldest son, James, is like the male version of me. He has my soul, the same thought processes as me, the same love of life as I do, and the same passion for words and music. We don't have to communicate to know what the other is thinking although communicating is so much more fun.

My daughter is very much unlike me, although appearance wise, you can tell we are mother and daughter. Although she is unlike me, she has some characteristics that I wish I had as a young adult. She is much more grounded than I am.

My youngest son is definitely a mixed breed. His personality is like James and mine, but he lives in a world of his own. He is highly intelligent which makes life difficult for him. He has some issues that he struggles with, but in speaking with him recently, he is sounding more and more like he is prepared to handle his life.

The story about my children and I is convoluted and paved with many crossroads through our walk in life. Some of the roads we've travelled alone and one still travels alone. They all know in their hearts that all road lead back to home where mom lives.

I can't say that I wouldn't change the past given the opportunity, but I look at the kids and see how unique and remarkable they are even with all the angst of the past, and I think to myself......okay, this has turned out okay and I'm proud of them.

I love my kids and I miss them.

Music

2009-02-28T11:20:14Z

Yesterday, it was 3:00 a.m. Today 5:00 a.m. These are the times I wake up on most days. Most days I don't even attempt to sleep till at least 2:00 a.m, but regardless of when I fall asleep, I still wake up anywhere between 3-5:00 a.m. Do I nap during the day? Well sometimes I can't help but fall asleep in the middle of whatever. David says I'm like a horse. I can fall asleep sitting or standing up for a few minutes at a time.

I am tired all the time, no doubt. I am also fatigued. There is a difference between the two. Tired...lack of sleep; fatigue.....total drain-out. But enough said. I don't want to dwell on my aches and pains of which there are aplenty theses days.

I've been feeling a little at a loss these days. I'm not sure what's happening. Perhaps I'm going through another one of those cyclical things that happens to all of us; you know where you think to yourself, who am I? What is my purpose in life? I know I was meant for more than this. What happened to all of my dreams? Why do I keep dreaming knowing full well that I won't be able to accomplish what my dreams will have me do.

I think part of this is due to boredom. Not that I don't have a million pokers in the fire with activities during the course of the day, hence the reason for not sleeping till the rest of the world is already at rest; but from being alone with my thoughts. But at the same time, I prefer my own company and yet....I'm very sociable. It's like I'm in a tug-of-war with myself.

My day can run like this. I think I'll make David a nice breakfast. Sometimes I do and other times I talk myself out of it just wanting to get my hands on my first of many cups of coffee. Then I get psyched up about cleaning the house, but then I feel too tired and perhaps I'll just sit here awhile and nurse another cup of coffee. I may pick up some knitting and it may keep me busy.......for awhile. But then I get bored with it, and I will either pick up a different knitting project or lose the thread altogether. If I read, I'll fall asleep and then I have to reread. I hate that. I'll play on the computer! That keeps me occupied for about an hour, but then my mind envisions me doing something else.

Grabbing another cup of coffee, I may stare out at the other world that lives outside my windows. I think to myself, I could run out and do some shopping. That's always appealing. Nothing like a shopping high. If I catch myself at the right moment, I may actually grab my keys and do this, but most of the time, it's the girl in my head that's doing the shopping. On and on it goes. Push and shove. Dream and act. Or mostly get so confused that I just sit and do nothing.

The questions I ask myself above, who am I; wasn't I meant to do more, where are my dreans and on and on, are best left to the adolescents, because if you ponder these questions too frequently that's where you get stuck; in adolescence. It can lock you up completely,

But wait! I do have a magic bullet that never fails me. There is no tug-of-war, no discontent, no struggling with myself. It's music. With coffee and cigs in hand, I head for my keyboard. There, at last, I can lose myself allowing all that I am inside swell and blossom into something real, cohesive, meaningful, and constructive. Here is where I truly live. Here is my world. Here is where I can be whatever I happen to be at the time without passing judgment on myself and burdening myself with guilt over what I should or should not be doing. Here there is no questions, not even where the next note is coming from.

I compose without thought. I don't logically think any of it through. I just let it happen. If I like what I hear, I write it down, if not; I play it anyway because it demands playing. I string the notes together like beading or knitting. It's taking a blank canvas and turning it into a picture and there is nothing more exciting than faced with a nice clean blank canvas. I create. I'm in control. I'm happy even though I'm sad. But when I come out of my music world, I feel like I AM.

That's all that counts. Why ask anything more of myself?

msknit @ 2009-02-28T05:18:00

2009-02-28T10:54:46Z

A Bent Rose - Last titration!!!

2009-02-19T21:47:43Z

Tomorrow is the last time I increase the dosage of my new drug. Yipee!!! I've made it this far with the side effects and the next few weeks will be a little rough to handle, I think. I'm told that it takes anywhere from 3-6 months for most folks who endure side effects to get to a point where they don't really notice them anymore. But if it helps? .....

It's an interesting trial in life to get through as I search my body for new sites to inject with. It's like "have needle will travel." I get to stick myself in my stomach, both sides; my thighs, my butt, and my arms. Fun stuff! But at least the needle isn't too large and it's subcu rather than intramuscular.

Has anyone figured out the title? "A Bent Rose" Let me know. I will be moving on from this topic.

The other day someone said to me, "but you look good!" Why the hell did that bother me so much that day? I guess it's because I've heard it so often. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I look good to people but if I'm talking to someone who is close to me actually looking for a little comfort, and they say how well I look, it almost feels as though I'm not being taken seriously or they just don't get it.

Multiple Sclerosis is a debilitating disease that affects each and every one of us uniquely. There are common denominators but the myriad of unexpected symptoms day-to-day, hour-to-hour, minute-by-minute, is unique. It hangs over you like a dark cloud and you never know when it's going to let go and rain on you. You try to run for cover but you can't run. All you can do is hang your head in the rain and sludge along to bed.

What's so frustrating is that the nature of the disease changes your life entirely. You can't plan anything. One minute you are fine and then the next you're ready to lay down and veg out. It's particularly difficult as the day wears on and this is why I plan any activity including appointments for the mornings.

But hey, we all have our clouds. What makes us able to handle it is our ability to find that silver lining that we know is there somewhere. And even on days when you just can't seem to find it, you know it's there and that gives you comfort. It's a matter of faith and positive thinking. So let the cloud hang over me. I just hope it doesn't rain too often.

A Bent Rose

2009-01-30T17:29:19Z

Okay, so I don't know my own strength. I'm able to handle this dosage increase for now with the help of premedication drugs. However, next Friday, I go up to .75. Nervous? Yes! But I'm prepared for the worst knowing that if things progress as they have during the previous weeks, this too will be doable.

There is a part of me that feels that this is insane to inject a drug into your belly, thighs, wherever, in the hopes that it will improve your MS. But what is it doing to my kidneys, my liver, my thyroid, and my immune system. It can affect so many systems in the negative and I'm suppose to say, "yep, I need a liver transplant but hey I can walk now? Insane. Add to this the fact that one never really knows if it's helping or not. Particularly with Remitting Relapsing MS. So what, I don't have a relapse in six months. This could be due to the drug, true; but it could also be that I'm on the upswing of the disease for now. So what the heck am I doing making myself sick every other day on the say so of my doctors?

I did fight them for a year and took myself off all therapies. But I'm tired of fighting them and the results of my MRIs gives me concern. So here I am again doing something that for the most part, I disagree with. Yet who knows? Perhaps it will help?

On a lighter note, my sister and I were able to send digital pictures to me with her trying on the dresses for her wedding. She picked out a lovely one. I was going to surprise her and fly up to Minnesota and be at the Bridal shop when she arrived, but I was too ill for that it being the Saturday after the first increase of my therapy. But I found a florist near the place where she was to try on dresses and sent her a beautiful bouquet of roses and told her on the card, "You are beautiful." She was flabergasted when while in the shop there was a delivery for her. I'm told that everyone in the store cried over the sentiment.

You see, I am all that she has. When she asked me to walk her down the aisle, I will be mother, father, sister, friend and caregiver to her. Mind you, I wasn't always amenable to being in this position for her particularly when I was plagued by disasters of my own and had no one to turn to. But our roles have equalized pretty much in the listening department although with great reluctance on my part.

I'm not one to complain or discuss the details of anything personal to anyone at all. I believe this probably comes from years of simply not having anyone to talk to in the first place. Now I find that if I do discuss issues with anyone, it feels rather pointless because in the end, I will do what I will do regardless of anyone's two cents worth of advice.

Talking. I don't get it. I feel the need to talk once in a while, but it feels like I'm just listening to myself talk. I feel this way when I go see my psychologist. Is he really paying attention as he sits there doodling on his pad. Then sometimes I see this glazed look about his eyes. It's my opinion that he's wanting to lay down on his own sofa for a snooze. This is the point where I turn the tables on him and ask him about himself. I'm just trying to jar him awake to the here and now. It's my money, you'd better damn well be paying attention. It's a waste of time. I just don't resolve any of life's problems by discussing it. There simply isn't anyone who can help. Never was.

I'm proud of the fact that I raised me to be the adult that I am. I'm okay, perhaps a little better than okay. I made the Princeton papers twice last year. That's a feat in itself. So I'm okay.

Talking? If it helps, go for it. I'd much rather write. It helps me gather my thoughts into cohesive little paragraphs even though the paragraphs themselves sometimes don't relate much to each other. But that's okay; that's why it's called a blog and not a great literary piece of work.

There is one thing about talking that bugs me. There are more days than I can count when I realize that I've not said a word to another human being. I'm alone all day and my friends know I don't do the phone thing. Phones for me are for the pizza guy or for an emergency. Everything that I get myself involved with at home requires solitud; writing, reading, composing of music, art work, and creating designs. It's my lot in life.

Who am I kidding?! I get lonely. Perhaps a little chit chat with someone would help sometimes. Sigh.

A Bent Rose - Time to Increase

2009-01-23T09:56:23Z

Here it is 4:00 a.m. in the morning. I have the lights on on the first floor and the coffee is brewing. Now don't get me wrong, I slept for about three hours and now I'm wide awake, par for the course.

There's several things on my mind. The first one is that my sister is going to try on wedding dresses this weekend for the upcoming wedding in September. She's in her 50s and this is her one and only marriage. She's known this great guy that I absolutely adore and has been with him for a number of years, and now they are getting married.

I am her older sister and there is another who is younger. We are the survivors of a failed marriage and many years enclosed in an orphanage until we graduated out. We were not orphans but byproducts of a failed marriage where neither one of them wanted to take care of us or couldn't. Now both parents are six feet under and we never truly knew them. They led their lives and we mangled ours until we finally got it right. So I'm it, the head of this little family.

My sister asked me to give her away at the wedding. I proudly accepted this honor. I'm also composing the music for the wedding ceremony. I'm grateful that it isn't until September so that I have plenty of time to work on this. So why is this all on my mind? She's in Minneapolis and I'm in Princeton too ill to travel and participate in all the pre-nuptial planning and excitement. Should this bug me? You're damn right it should.

It irritates the heck out of me that I can't just do what I would ordinarily do, which is to book a flight to Minneapolis, help her decide on the wedding dress, have dinner and drinks, and then come home again. Sound ridiculous? Perhaps. But it's a big deal for me,knowing that my life has changed so much that I can't do what I want to do when I want to do it. Even if I was 90 years old and just dealing with old age, I would still have the option to participate in whatever activitiy at the drop of a hat as long as I was healthy.

What truly bugs me about the whole thing is that in this day and age, you would think that the Bridal Shop would be kind enough to arrange for an out-of-state person to participate in the viewing of the dresses. I mean come on! We have computers out the kazoo! My Blackberry is a computer. We have laptops with video! But when my sister asked if this could be arranged, they told her that they don't have internet access for the customers.

So here I sit, one day before she tries on her dresses still trying to figure this thing out. I'm not a computer whiz and neither is she. Not only that, she's not as well equipped as I am in the line of laptops etc... At this point she has decided to have a friend with a digital camera take pictures of her with the dresses on and have them emailed to me. Then she and I can discuss these dresses and she can pick one of them out with confidence knowing full well that I will give her an honest opinion as to what looks good on her or doesn't. I shall leave this here.

The next thing on my mind is today I have to double the dose of the serum for my shot. I've not done well on the miniscule amount so I'm worried about what will happen today. Pray for me.

On a good note, pun intended; I've written a couple of songs this week. One in particular is going round and round in my head. I wrote it for my husband who plays the fiddle. It's a great jig and I hope to work on it this weekend with him.

So you see there is good and bad that plagues me in the middle of the night that drives me out from underneath my warm blankets into a cold room at a computer desk waiting for the coffee to finish.

A Bent Rose - 3rd Shot

2009-01-14T17:09:55Z

I'm feeling a little more positive today. My reactions to the shot wasn't as bad but still had them. I'm recovering from the effect a little quicker. Onwards and upwards. Another week of this and then I'll post back when I have to up the dosage.

Hugs
Maggie

A Bent Rose

2009-01-12T14:22:00Z

Hi,

I’ve had the second shot. David sat with me as I worked through the process taught me by the nurse. My hands were shaking but I’m sure next time I’ll be more comfortable. The nurse will call me today and ask me how it went, so I can have some nagging questions answered.

It was pretty much a repeat of the first shot as far as side effects go. The difference this time was that the chills were not as bad, but the muscles aches were hard to take, which I hardly noticed the first time. The headache was the same.

I’m worried about stepping up the dosage, but I can’t go there right now. It’s about 8 a.m. and I’m not doing too badly all considered. So already there’s been an improvement over the first day where it dragged on and on.

My husband, God bless his soul! There are no words to describe how I feel about him.

Third shot will be given on Tuesday, and then the fourth shot will fall on Thursday, Knitter’s day. I’ll wait till after we meet. It was suggested as on previous therapies that the shots be taken at night so that you could sleep through the side effects. Hah! I don’t sleep through side effects! And…it doesn’t take me only 12 hours more like 24 hours and then some to get through it. So I decided that this time I would take the shots during late morning or early afternoon thereby giving myself 24 hours to get through it.

There is no misery like the misery of being up in the middle of the night, alone, and in pain. My misery likes the distraction of responsibilities of dog care, husband care, projects care and so on. That’s the trick that works for me. If I sit alone and wallow in it I’d drive myself nuts. This way, when I know that people or pets are counting on me, it forces me to get strong and kick my butt out of bed. This is a good thing.

If I can’t find the positives, I make them happen. Be kind, I do listen to my body and take it slow if need be, but I can’t keep ahead of this MS thing if I quit at the first sign of a symptom of pain, such as spasms, etc… If I work through it, I get through it much quicker.

So there you have it. Stay tuned for the next episode of “A Bent Rose”. You’re thinking huh? Figure it out!

Hugs.

My Favorite Christmas

2008-12-08T14:47:55Z

Frankly, I’m hard pressed to celebrate any holiday. But my oldest son and his wife are coming up for Christmas, so I’m going to be a good girl.

I do put up a tree every year whether I feel like it or not. It’s only because, if I say so myself, I make a beautiful tree. Mine is not real….allergies…..

Some years I go crazy with gift buying and other years it’s mostly gift certificates and such. Everyone I know lives so far away from us and seldom make it out this way for any holiday.

But I will be busy this year with my annual Christmas party for the Cafe Knitters that I host every Thursday. And then of course my son is coming up. We said no to the company Christmas party this year although we’ve always gone in the past. I’m on so many meds right now so I think that I would have a conflict with wanting to drink a ton of wine . :)
My husband doesn’t feel like going and neither do I. Have you ever gone to a Christmas party with several hundred mathematicians? It’s not a pretty site!

I’ll probably make a turkey .

Anyhoo, it becomes more and more difficult to get into the mood.

When I was a little girl, I grew up in an orphanage in Chicago, I wasn’t exposed to Christmas like most kids were. It was primarily a religious thing and there was one big tree in the main office of the institution that we would get to see if family members came to visit us. Since family members did not come to visit, we had no reason to be called down to the front office. Some years I was lucky and other years I was not. Perhaps that’s why I don’t get too excited about all the hoopla over holidays.

My favorite Christmas was one year, when my kids were real little, I was newly separated and had very little money, in Chicago….I was trying to figure out how to make Christmas for my kids. We lived in a studio apartment—one room. It was very tiny and we all slept in the same bed, which was tricky since one of my kids had a problem holding their bladder. Sigh.

One day I was passing a dime store, and went in trying to come up with an idea. I found a package of colorful construction paper and I bought a couple of them. When I went home, the kids and I taped the construction paper in the form of a huge tree right to one of the walls of the studio in the shape of a tree. It was quite pretty with all the colors. Then we used the bottom of drinking glasses and we made circles onto the leftover papers and we decorated our little balls with crayons and taped them up on the wall tree. I do so wish I had a picture of it! We were so proud of ourselves. Oh…and one more thing. When you make circles to cut out of construction paper you are left with an interesting leftover spiraling piece. We connected those together and made garland.

That was my favorite Christmas.

Violate the Turkey

2008-11-26T20:47:07Z

Took a trip down memory lane today via the web. Went to a website of my old school, Angel Guardian Orphanage. I grew up there from the age of approximately 8 through 17. It was a bittersweet trip looking at photos and various comments made on those pages by some people I used to know. In the past, I've checked out their website bulletins and there is a mixed blend of emotions emanating from those people. Some have come out of it extremely bitter and others have come out of the orphanage grateful that they were given a better home than the one they had at home.

Me? I go both ways. I'm glad to have had a better upbringing than the one I would have had, but it was tortuous growing up there for many reasons. So I often wonder, am I the person I am because of the orphanage or despite it? You know, the old nature vs nuture argument. Again, it's probably somewhere in the middle. Anyway, this bores me or perhaps I should say it leaves me feeling icky.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and my husband and I are having one guest over. My oldest son and his wife are visiting family in Indiana. My daughter and my grandchildren live in Indiana. My youngest son is in North Dakota. I have often said that it would be a dream come true for me if just one time in my life I could have my three kids, spouses and children all under the same roof, mine. I doubt it will ever happen. I don't even know what my grandchildren look like these days. That's another long story.

Overall, I have to say that I truly hate the holidays. There is all of this hulabaloo going on with people rushing here and there checking off the items on their lists, acting stressed out, but it's evident they are excited regardless of the stress. I can't relate to it. I rush around only because I'm feeding a guest, but it could be any night of the week for me in any month of the year.

What gets to me is this. If I don't connect with the holidays (so I say), why does it affect me by making me blue? Is there a part of me that is jealous of people with loving family members running to and from each other's homes? Is it because I know that doorbells will be ringing all over the country and greetings with hugs and kisses are shared? People wrapped up in cold-weather gear, holding casseroles and bottles of beer and wine will be knocking on loved ones front doors. This doesn't happen for me. It never has.

I have been a guest in other people's homes as I too stand knocking holding my goodies to share with my spouses' loved ones. At other times I've been the guest invited by someone because they knew that I would otherwise be alone. But I haven't been alone for a long time now. I've been married 23 years now.

Because my husband is who he is, and because I have a lack of family history, so to speak, we spend 99% of our holidays alone with each other. I'm estranged from one child and the other two live in other states, with neither one, for various reasons, unable to make a trip home. It's a long story and I need a ghost writer to tell this story for me.

So tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. I have a huge turkey sitting in my refrigerator patiently warming up so that it can be stuffed and thrown into the fire, surrendering its meat from bones that will be thrown out in that night's trash. I will be the violator of the turkey so that my guest and husband can eat. I too will chomp down on some of it. I truly don't understand the point of it all. All I can think of is the work involved and it's not because I want to, it's because of tradition.

When I was alone, I ignored the holidays spending them in bars with my friends. Now I live the normal life and I do the normal routines expected of me. I'm not being forced to do any of this. I could choose to ignore it, and my sweet husband would take it with a grain of salt. But I don't want to take the joy out of his life, the holiday feel to his year. Why be the spoiler?

Perhaps I wouldn't hate the holidays if it were something to look forward to, such as children and grandchildren excitedly ringing my doorbell carrying casseroles and proffering kisses and hugs for a few days of the year.

You know what? It will feel good to violate that turkey tomorrow! Enough said.

msknit @ 2008-10-05T23:57:00

2008-10-06T04:24:59Z

Oh how sweet it is! I love it so much! Creating something from thin air! It makes me high.

I don't know if you know that I'm a musician/composer as well as a myriad of other things that I endeavor to do. Tonight I've been working on a program called "Finale" which is for composers to get all their scratched up music sheets nicely engraved on sheet music. It's a lovely thing to see all those notes strung together on paper knowing how much went into it. What's fascinating about it all is that I'm just a person on a keyboard; but on the computer, I'm a whole orchestra! Here is where I really get to put together the song I hear in my head by adding different instruments even some that I don't know how to play.

There is magic here and everywhere. One only has to pluck it out of the air and run with it before it gets away from you. At least that's how it is for me. If I hear something in my head, if I don't get to a piano or guitar right away, I'm afraid it's gone in a few seconds. Ah but once you've captured it, you can release it as one must always do with the things they love to find it's place in the scheme of things.

This is the heart of me......my music. It always has been and always will be. It used to bother me that these things I create are not heard by many people. Perhaps that's a good thing for some. But it doesn't bother me so much any more although I long to have a real orchestra play the music. It would be a dream come true.

Okay, I can hear you now saying, "well what type of music do you compose?" I always struggle with that one. I don't fall into a niche although I'm probably more new ageish than anything. The most common response that I hear people say when they listen to the music is that it evokes emotions much like the music in a movie. I'm told I should write for movies. So what venue is that? I don't know what to call it. I call it "Inside Out". I'm taking the inside of me and putting it out there.

This going inside out is not an easy thing for me. Actually it's probably not easy for any artist because once you put it out there it becomes vulnerable to attacks from people who may or may not like what you've done.

It's been quite a while since I actually put a new song down on the computer. It's been a software problem that I just haven't felt up to dealing with.

I'm trying to figure out how to put a link so that you can hear some of the songs. I'll get it figured out soon. For now, I'm feeling good.

Call the Doctor

2008-08-18T18:55:51Z

Sometimes, when you least expect it, life throws you yet another curve to contend with. If you're running down the road of your life without paying attention and you hit that curve, you crash and burn. I'm facing a new curve right now. But I have to admit, my life is nothing but curves, some worse than others.

I've been away on holiday to Nova Scotia. I didn't see much of it due to the rain and fog almost every day while we were there. That was disappointing, but I was on a knit retreat and that was lovely.

Now that I'm home again and have time to think, I can update this site a little more consistently I hope.

I've been back almost a week now but I think that I brought part of Nova Scotia back with me. I'm sicker than a dog. I'm whimpering as I sit here trying to reach out and touch someone because misery loves company. There is something inside my head pounding to get out and it lives in the right side. Every few seconds to a few minutes it gets quite insistent and pounds so hard that I succumb to a painful grimace and sometimes cry out. What the heck is this?

I started with a sore throat, but no other cold symptoms. My throat is still a little scratchy and I have a hoarse voice. Meanwhile, this pain in the *## thing has taken residence inside my head and I can't seem to get it out. I have tried to appease it with aspirins but nope, it does nothing for it. So when you're taken suddenly ill what does one do? Imagine all sorts of terrible things!

So then you start looking on the internet and that only makes you more worried. Then again, it could be something simple like a.......bad headache from sinuses or some other thing. It's the not knowing that bugs the hell out of me. I like knowing what's going on in my body and the guest in my head was uninvited and he doesn't seem too happy either.

After a few hours of wasting my time on the internet looking for something exotic to say 'aha' to, I finally pick up the phone and call my doctor. She called in an antibiotic for me but if I'm not feeling better in a day or two, I'm to call her back.  Then I called my white knight, David, and asked him to drop everything and pick up the drug at the pharmacy since he works close to it. So okay. I've done what I should have done in the first place, call the doctor.

Focus

2008-07-12T11:59:58Z

My mind is flying off in different directions. It stops for a moment on one thought and I think, yeah I'll do that! Then it flies off onto another thought. Perhaps I'll do that! But before I can assimilate that last thought, my mind goes flying off again, and on and on.

I have so many interests and I dabble in all of them. I would like to write a book. I knit, crochet, paint, garden, read, play eleven instruments, compose, cook, and on and on. I'm sure I'm no different than anyone else but their list might be different. My problem is, is that there are days when I can't seem to focus on any one of them.

Ever watch the SciFi Channel? I saw a program once where a man duplicated himself. I want to do that. But alas I live in the Real World Channel so I'm just one person.

What's that saying? Jack of all trades and master of none? That's probably me but I do take exception to master of none. I have mastered quite a few of the things I do. What seems beyond my control is the ability to focus on one. I would like to say that I am this or that, like my husband who when asked, says he a mathematician. When someone asks me what I do I sort of flounder around like a fish on a deck with my mouth open and finally gasping out, "oh a little of this and a little of that".

How does everyone else handle this? Those of you who have many interests and happen to be good at them, what do you do?

I can sit down with a book and read it through in one sitting. Let me rephrase that. I used to do that. I also used to compose a piece of music sometimes not sleeping at all until it was done. I have so many projects going all at the same time all staring at me as I walk past them. I can hear them calling to me, take me, take meeeee... I do--eventually. I can pride myself on finishing all of my rough drafts.

It's funny how I can pick something up after months of inactivity and start working on it as though I've just taken a nap from it. I like that. Perhaps that's one of the reasons I feel free to walk away from one project and work on another?

I do have my moments though when something is so intriguing to me that I simply can't put it down. But that's today. Tomorrow I may walk right past it knowing that if I get involved with it, I won't be able to do something else that I've been thinking about. Maybe I should make a list and check things off? Oh yes, I've already said that I'm not a list kind of person. I still make them but I don't feel obligated to them. I just like looking at the lists, it makes me feel that I'm such a busy person.

I am productive, but I drive myself nuts. Even as I sit here typing, my mind has flown off onto another idea. Perhaps I'll start my book in this journal venue and have all of you be my editors. Maybe I'll get the darn thing written after all. I have been asked over and over again to write my story. This might be a good idea. I'll have to think about it some more. But let me warn you in advance. My story is extremely painful to write about.

Okay so now my mind is resting upon the thought that I should get off this here page and download updates to my Garmin GPS. Focus Maggie, focus.

Veg Out Sundays

2008-06-22T19:31:14Z

Sometimes I hate Sundays and sometimes I love them. I always look forward to them whether I'm in a hating of the day mood or not. The main reason for loving Sundays is that my dear husband is home. He's home on Saturday as well, but Saturday is more of a winding down from the week day. Sunday is veg out day.

But sometimes I don't want to be a vegetable. Sometimes I'd rather be a lobster happily swimming in a tank unaware that at any moment someone will choose me for dinner. Until I'm chosen, I swim along without a care in the world except that the tank is confining and that too gets boring to swim around in. Okay, so perhaps not a lobster.

With the exception that I have another warm body in the house besides my little maltese, Sundays are just like Mondays and on and on. No...actually Sundays almost seem like I'm wasting the day away. During the week when I'm alone, I accomplish a lot of different things. It's when the creative juices run wild. I think it's the aloneness that every artist thrives on in order to get work done. The weekend is more about caring for another person in one fashion or another. He takes care of me and I take care of him. Perhaps he does a little more caring than I do because I can just let go of the home responsibilities when he is around and he is so amenable to the caring process.

I don't know. They just bug me--Sundays that is. I want to go out and do something fun and yet I can't. It's one of the days of the week where I am very much aware of being disabled by my body. It's such an incredible effort just to get up and go somewhere. Then I have to worry about wheelchairs or scooters, heat, fatigue, and many other sensorimotor difficulties. I still want to do something, but what? Every thing I can think of requires the stamina of a healthy person.

I know what I hate about Sundays!!! I realize I have MS and I feel like I'm on a short tether from my home. I am wanting to up and go but my body is wanting to stay and sit. When I fight it and go on an adventure, I usually land up having to disappoint myself and others with me when I beg to be taken home. Or if I fight it and go, sometimes it's the other people with me who demand that I need to go home and rest because they don't like the way I'm looking.

The funny thing about it all is that during the week, when I get a bee in my bonnet about needing this or that, I get up and go! Why is that? I think perhaps it is because I'm going under my own power and I control the situation. There is no one around to tell me how I feel or how I look. I tell me. I'm the one who says, "okay Maggie, you'd better cut this short because your energy battery is about to give out." Or sometimes I'm physically unable to take another step if I'm out wandering with my cane or walker.

When all is said and done, even if I'm recharged and full of energy during the morning, by the early afternoon I've had it. My internal battery charger is not functioning well. If only I could get a new one.

What's sad is the cognition problems that we don't often like to admit or talk about. For me there are many cognitive problems but the one that gets me when I'm out is what I call over-stimulation, or overflow. I can get to a point where I totally lose it and can't think any more. Between people, noise, colors, weather, movement, conversations, music, any or all of those things combined will bring me to either tears or in need of strangling the closest person to me. I can't process two things at once for long. You should see me in a grocery store or heaven forbid, a restaurant! There is too much stimuli and I go nuts. It's very difficult to describe the feeling you get when it happens. I only know that if I don't get up and leave the moment it hits, I may start needing to scream or react in some other unsuitable manner when out in public.

Then there's the movement disorder. I look like I have to pee all the time. I can't sit still. I have to see yet another specialist for this new symptom.  So until I see him and maybe him finding a better solution, my MS neuro has me so drugged up that I literally can drop off to sleep right where I stand.

So getting back to Sundays. I guess they are not so bad. I'm here with the one I love. He's taking care of me. I'm planning dinner for him. He's not bored and in fact, he's a nester and prefers staying home. Sundays aren't so bad. Not only that....Monday is just around the corner and unlike many, I do so look forward to Mondays, when I'm back in control.

msknit @ 2008-06-08T00:48:00

2008-06-08T05:25:17Z

I bought an armoire for my family room. Yep you got it! Everything had to move including the pictures. It's funny isn't it? How many of us when purchasing something for a room, regardless of it's size, that suddenly nothing else seems to fit right; and we begin moving furniture all around?

What does this say about people like me I wonder? I'm sure there are other people who are quite content with purchasing something, plopping it down somewhere, and then get on with their day. There is no upheaval over introducing something new to the house. But no not me.

Now I have to stop and think about the other facets of my life. Do I react the same way? Let me think here.

Okay, let's say I'm introduced to a new person. No, I don't change anything about me because of them. So I'm good there. It's not as though I own them. I may never see them again and if I do, perhaps we become friends. But still, nothing changes except that I might be enriched by this new person.

Perhaps I buy a new book? Now that could cause a problem, particularly if it's a reference book. Then I shift things around on the book shelf in order to place it where I want it. But that's not a major event. Although the other day, I did fall back to the "I've gotta move these books around". But it's because oftentimes when I pull a book out, it doesn't always find it's way home. It sits in someone else's neighborhood and I have to move them back to their home. Sometimes there seems to be a major revolt going on in the neighborhoods where no one is where they should be. So I have to lead them back and tell myself to keep a watchful eye on them so that I don't have to do this too often.

Groceries can be a problem similar to the books. With more than one person in the house, things often go astray and when I'm ready to cook, if they are not where they should be, then I'm forced to hunt them down. Not only that, they tend to disappear altogether. Then I have to file a missing can report on my grocery list so that I can find them next time I shop. I try to compensate for this happening again by purchasing more than one of the runaway.   Then once again, I have to reorganize everything.

This is common. Right?

Oh here's a good one. What if I have to purchase a new drug? I'm on so many medications as it is. Sometimes the drug is to replace another that is not helping me. Sometimes it's a drug to enhance the effects of one that is not living up to it's standard. And yet again, sometimes it's a new drug for something new that is trying very hard to make me feel disabled when I keep saying that I am enabled. What happens in this circumstance?

I think it's more of an internal chaotic reaction until I adjust to the new med. It's not anything that I can control. It's going to wreak the havoc it does all on its own. All I can do is sit back, watch, and report back to the neurologist. Half the time I'm in a daze anyway.

I could go on and on, but I'm getting bored. So back to the first question. Why am I compelled to change everything around me when I introduce something new to my home? Perhaps it's because I'm childish in my delight to have the new item and want to show it to it's best advantage, and in order to do that, other things have to get out of the way. But I don't neglect my old things. They too need attention and need to be shown to their best advantage as well, especially when I need to camouflage wear and tear on the poor old thing. One things leads to another and pretty soon my husband is breaking a sweat moving furniture here and there.

This is probably a pointless question that doesn't need an answer. It's just who I am. A child who delights in new things even if they are from the consignment shop. It's new to me.

I find it fun. I think my husband would disagree.

Writer's Block: Makeover! Or: Creepy Crawlies

2008-06-03T21:41:20Z

If you had the chance to go crazy and completely overhaul your appearance, what would you do?

Or:

Recount a remarkable incident involving insects.

View 500 Answers

I would crawl back into someone else's womb other than my mother's and get born again. Hey, you said if I had a chance to go crazy!

Cursors Are A Funny Thing.

2008-06-02T23:55:57Z

Cursors are a funny thing. They blink on and off as though waiting patiently like a person tapping their foot in impatience. Why have I brought this up? Well it's because when I go on-line to post an entry, that cursor blinks at me in the subject line waiting with bated breath to see what I will title my post. However, I never know my title to the subject line until I"m done posting. It's the same way I play music, paint or knit.

I don't follow patterns. I follow where I take me. Where I will wander off to from within gets spit out onto paper, music, or whatever venue I happen to feel like playing with.

I've tried out-waiting the cursor, but it always wins. It has more stamina than I and has a perfect rhythm. It's a persistent little thing. Every time I pause in my writing or end a sentence, it pops up again tapping it's foot.

Sometimes it's comforting staring at the thing because I know it will wait and wait, unlike some I know. At other times, I wish I could erase it off my screen because on a bad day, I feel as though it wants me to hurry along. I could change the look of the cursor, but why would I want to do that? Whatever form it takes, it will still keep tapping it's foot at me.

Alright already! I've got to make dinner. I'll see you next time my little cursor.