Nancy and Nancy, Jr.

My mother has been in poor health for some time.  When someone asks how she is, my answer is "how long do you have?'  She has had her left knee replaced once and her right knee replaced three times.  Her bone kept deteriorating from the prosthesis.  She now has a "super prosthesis" and the Dr. was aggressive in replacing bone with prosthesis.  We call her the bionic woman. 
About six months ago, she started to get out of bed first thing in the morning and she fell out of bed.  After the fall, she had deep tissue injury and strong infection set in.  About six weeks ago, she had surgery to clean out the knee.  During that hospital stay, they put a port into the inside of her right arm.  The port has tubing which runs directly into her heart.  The antibiotics are put into the port and then her heart pumps the antibiotics through-out her body.  This won't be forever- but for a while.  A couple of weeks after she was home from that surgery, she had another fall and her knee burst open.  It was something akin to a compound-fracture except what was protruding wasn't bone but her prosthesis.  Horrific.  My Dad called 9-1-1 and then held a cloth over her knee.  She lost a pint and a half of blood.
I was sick with sinus infection and probably bronchitis or pneumonia and when my sister contacted me, I could not go to the hospital.  I was  torn, but it wouldn't have helped anyone for me to go.  I am the oldest.  My role it to sweep in and take over.  To take care of everyone.  I have two siblings so my brother and sister each stepped up to help our parents.  I was sick for almost three weeks.  Yesterday was the first day that we were able to make the two-plus hour trip to see my mother.  I called ahead and asked if we might bring Chelsea.  My mother was tickled.


well, hello there!



ma mere et moi

Chelsea is so over this little photo session

 Mother was only seventeen when she had me.  All of my life we've gotten the "oh, you two look more like sisters than mother and daughter."  My mother would giggle and I would groan.  We do look a lot alike.  That is why I refer to myself  as "Nancy, Jr."  

My mother still has a long road to recovery ahead of her.  They have told her she may be on antibiotics forever.  She has lost a lot of muscle mass and strength.  (And confidence.)  They are working with her on walking.  My Dad has been instrumental in her care for quite some time, now and he has done a great job.  Please send all prayers, good karma and healing thoughts her way.  She has a great attitude and she is a fighter.  I get my positive, tenacious spirit from her example. 

Water, water, everywhere

One of the things that I love about art is the immersion.  I don't think about anything else.  The edges around blur and the background fades.
Last night, Doug was working his part-time, once a week job at the YMCA.  At some point, he came through the door and came into the dining room where I sat working.
"Do you know there is water running down the entryway floor and out the front door?" 
"what?" 
I had put a load of laundry into the washer.  I think in the very, very back of my mind I was thinking
that load of laundry should have been done by now. 
But I wasn't thinking about it enough to get up to see what was going on. 
My washer just kept filling.  It had not moved beyond the fill stage in hours.  Just a few hours, but hours.  The washer over-flowed. 

When you come through the door of the house, there is a long entry way hall and then you turn right at the end of the hall and that is where the washer and dryer sit.  Fortunately we have ceramic tile and it didn't hurt the floor at all.  Doug and a couple of neighbors loaded up the washer this evening into the back of his pick-up truck.  He will take it in to the repair place tomorrow.  Because we live in the country, it will save some money for him to take it to them rather than having them come out to visit us. 
Why didn't I notice all of that water? 
I was doing this:

Pretty little feather

 and this:

Bloom

 and this:

Building their nest

 and this:

Dream

Doug asked me if I was smoking crack when I made the last one.  I said "no."  He told me that he might feel better if I was.  I don't usually do anything too abstract- but I had seen something similar in a magazine and wanted to experiment.  It was fun.
In the midst of a flood, the only thing that carried me away was my art!

On the second day of Spring...

On the second day of Spring it was nearly eighty degrees in Southern Indiana and Cheryl ran to get a pedi/mani.  On Monday nights, it is $30.00 for both.  Then if you get a french manicure on your fingernails like I did, that is five dollars more.  I usually do my own to save money.  I do like to get a pedi early in the season to get off to a good start.  We went to Hawaii last February and so by now I had two pedis.  One before leaving to go to Hawaii and one upon returning home.  (The beach really wrecked out my feet.)  So now I am ready to reveal my toes. 

pretty in pink

Do you remember when I was taking a vote on whether or not I should get fake fingernails?  As much as I love the look and convenience, I did not get fakes.  These are my nails done in french.  I am going to baby them as much as possible.  (Also known as "I'm not doing Jack as long as I have these nails." )  

make mine french

I cringe looking at my hands.  They look like what I am...Grandma's hands.  I used to have the prettiest feet and hands.  Sigh.  The wares of youth.  Oh, well. 
Do you get a pedi in the spring time?