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.”
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.
19 hours ago