Who Do You Think You Are?

Who am I?

Who Do You Think You Are? is a TV program that captured my attention a year ago.  The new season starts this February 3rd.  Only a year ago I began watching famous people trace their roots back to discover who their ancestors were.  Touching stories, some good, some disappointing maybe.  They never failed to bring tears to my eyes, I am one of those people that cries at Hallmark Card commercials! 

This brought other feelings forward that I had shelved for a long time and never addressed.  My birth father was not a part of my life after he divorced my mother, my brother and me.  My mother chose not to talk about our father and I guess I respected her wishes by not asking questions, you learn quickly what topics are not to be discussed. 

Then with my birthday upon me last March, at the age of 62, I knew that finding my birth father was very important to me.  Thanks to the seed planted by Who Do You Think You Are?, sponsored by Ancestry.com.  I began to wonder about my Dad.  After a few shows the roots took hold and I knew with all my heart I had to find the lost connection to my father and his family.  

It is difficult to start a family tree when you have no clue the name of your paternal grandparents .   I had heard mentioned an aunts name from long past and started my Ancestry search there, the little tree leaves began to appear.  That was then I discovered all three of my aunts had passed away.  As I began to follow the family tree possibilities, a distant cousin discovered my activity and contacted me.  From her pushing, I started making some very difficult phone calls. 

I called my father, I had tried this a few years before and it was unrewarding.  Maybe it was the shock of hearing from me for the first time in more than 50 years.  I tried again in 2011, now my Dad is almost 80 years old.   My fears were overwhelming, he was not really very easy to talk with, I wonder if he had trouble hearing me.  The most wonderful gift he gave me was the name and number of my brother Mike.  I found my fears of calling a big barrier.  Lucky for me we were both on Facebook and I made my first attempt at contact with him there.  Well, by March 25, I spoke with my brother Mike for the first time ever and I will never be the same as I was before that call.  So many discoveries have followed that conversation, my heart is still bursting with joy because we connected.

Much of this story has been blogged by me the past year, I will spare you.  A year has passed since that little seed was planted.  Finding my ancestors, my three brothers, many cousins, nieces and nephews and their children has been the most amazing journey in my life.  Bringing with it tears of sadness and tears of joy.

A full circle of seasons have brought me back to the beginning of the journey.  I marvel at the timing of this discovery and I believe that there are no accidents in life.  I think if we listen to our heart and follow our instincts we will do things as they are to be done. 

I got to be with my Dad one weekend in July, a brief connection,  to have only just found him and having to leave again, our goodbye was a forever one, we lost him only days after I left.  I see him in my dreams and someday I will see him as he greets me on the other side.  My heart is broken still at all that was lost.  Faith helps me to believe that things were as they were suppose to be, even if my heart hurts often.

Possibilities surround us......

So I begin a new year on this journey with my new family.  We have kept in touch, had visits and hugs were shared, we are forever connected.  I am very lucky to have been accepted and loved with no reservations, I return the feelings a hundred fold.  I no longer wonder "Who do I think I am?"  Questions have been answered, dreams have come true and the future is open to all possibilities. 

Art is My Passion

Paint Pony, 2012

Art is a passion of mine, I find myself out of sorts if I have been away from the studio too long.  When I go to the studio, I can close everything else out, I totally am lost in creating.  My life is art.

I have been painting again, it seems I go through phases of painting.  I have found winter and spring to be the time I do most of my paintings and the gourd work happens throughout the summer and fall. 

I have talked with another artist friend recently, we talked about our paintings and our feelings about them.  We are both "untrained" in the traditional sense.  What comes from our work is unexpected and an expression of ourselves.  It has little to do with the classroom instruction, more from what is inside us.  It is the way we see things.  Many times our art is a total surprise to even us, we don't always start the background of a canvas with a plan.  I find that interesting.....  it is something else that begins to form, to develop and evolve.  It comes from no plan in my brain, it is as much a surprise to me as finding out I could paint. 

Native American Flute

Maybe I can explain this in another way.  Music is also my passion, an art.   I play the Native American Flute.  I have no musical training, can't read music, have trouble with rhythm, and certainly can't carry a tune.  And yet, when I found that very first note on the humble wooden flute, my heart began to sing.  I'd found a way to express music that had been bottled up inside me and I played and played. 

Of course as with my paintings, my music wasn't always great.  Never the less it became the outlet for my heart and my spirit, all a journey in following our passion.  I have taken a few lessons from accomplished artists and flute players.  They have given me tools to enhance my skills.  The best part, they haven't tried to change my art, they have allowed me to express myself, good or bad. 

The joy in all of this is when others buy my paintings and tell me they feel the spirit in which it was created.  Or they ask me to play my flute, knowing the song is new and for only that moment in time.  Both coming from my heart, from my spirit, a breathe in time........... my passion is Art.

Recovery January 10th, 2012

I am now five weeks out from bi-lateral knee replacement surgery.  I am happy it seems to be going so fast, goodness knows where December went.  I am going to therapy three times a week.  I don't like it and yet I know it is necessary.  I just want to be past all of this painful stretching and get on with my life!

I have found that the comfy lounge chair is not as comfortable as it was only a week ago.  I hate sitting...........   I want to do something!  My endurance is better, I find myself up longer at a time and I am walking with a cane.  Although my Physical Therapist took it away from me yesterday!  My balance is still a little bit of a challenge, it did show me that I don't need it all the time.  So I guess I am making progress.

I have managed to get in and out of the waterbed.  My greatest joy is sleeping in the waterbed again.  It ranks right up there with my first shower after surgery.  Sleeping in the waterbed was a bit of a challenge, four pillows for me, two for Richard and our little dog all in the waterbed with Richard and I was a problem.  So Richard has taken to sleeping in the double bed they moved to the living room for me.  We are both getting better sleep now. 

Wonderful Husband washing windows

This morning I decided I needed to make some daily goals, my need to accomplish something useful!  Now I am not sure this is something everyone would find necessary to do while recovering from two knee replacements.  I just had to get the windows washed outside!!!!   This was something I wanted to do before surgery and I ran out of time.  Today I gathered up my paper towels, the window cleaner and my window washer tool for the high windows.  I stumbled my way around the front of the house and began washing windows!  Richard was afraid to leave before I finished so I managed to get him to wash the windows with the most growth around them.  He wasn't happy, he doesn't do windows.  As with everything during my recovery at home, he did it for me and hardly complained at all.  He has gone above and beyond for me and I am so grateful.  He wins Husband of the Year!!!!

Now what my future goals for each day remain to be seen.  I will have to discover them as I move about the house.  I know the studio is on my list and I think a ride in the gator around the fields is calling me today.  It is rare to have such warmth and sunshine in January and I know I must get out to enjoy it!  This is all part of my recovery, it fills my spirit with joy and that is part of healing too. 

Blessings to all who have sent prayers and good wishes.  I am filled with gratitude.

Good To Be Home

I am sitting a little uncomfortably at the computer table, thinking I need to write some thoughts about having bi-lateral knee surgery.  My knees are flexed back as far as I can get them at this moment and I have to say it feels good and hurts at the same time.  Maybe a blog will be a good distraction. 

Grandpa Santa and Tatum, 2011

On December 5, 2011 I had both of my rickety, hard working knees replaced.  I lost several days following surgery, the use of heavy pain killers gave me a fuzzy memory (which is probably good) and as I began to come around I was then whisk off to the in-hospital rehab to learn to walk again.  Holy Cow, walking on new knees was rather a startling experience.  I am no longer bow legged and I even felt a little taller.  My legs were like lead!  I had to learn to use muscles that had been stretched beyond anything I care to imagine.  The skin from above, over and below my knees were being held together by staples.  These staples were removed on Dec. 21st.  Richard counted 40 in each knee.  I would like to say I was brave and it was nothing, but it took my breath away several times and tears came to my eyes. 

I can't say enough about the care and attention I received while in the hospital.  Everyone was kind and helpful and never left me hanging.  They would bring me heated blankets on request and were at my side with every attempt to get up and move to the bathroom or sit in a chair.  It didn't take long with Physical Therapy and Occupational Therapy moving me along and all I could think about was getting home. 

When I got home I couldn't have been happier, truly the best medicine ever!!!!  Our house with our stuff and I could move about freely when ever I needed.  It seems I can't just be in any one place too long, I get too locked into a position and need to move.  Sometimes I feel like I start over with each transition. 

My children have been amazing, they picked up the slack while my wonderful husband accompanied a friend to Florida that needed help driving.  I am a lucky girl to have such an amazing support system.  This is something you can't do alone, no matter how independent you think you are. 

Now two days before Christmas, the tree is up and decorated because of my daughter.  My other daughter wrapped gifts and my son had to finish my shopping.  The kids and grand kids will be coming before noon on Christmas morning and they are bringing all the food.  It will be noisy and fun watching the grand children.  Their smiles are medicine to me too!

I am reminded that it isn't about the gifts, it is about all the love that surrounds us.  I have all I could ever want for Christmas, my awesome family, my very amazing friends and new knees!

Another Season

Canvas off,  poles coming
down......

I have in the past few years started looking at the passing of time in different ways.  I rarely wear a watch, time is not important when being creative in the studio.  Oh yes, I still must be aware of appointments and what time my grand daughters are getting off the bus, I have my smartphone to keep track of this for me.  It will signal me well ahead of the appointed time and I am usually startled with the beeps and chirps when my phone suddenly brings me back to reality.

I also find that the calendar on the wall is often months behind.  I just took down a 2010 calendar that was stuck on May.  Again my smartphone has a calendar and I try to keep track of my life in this little mini computer I carry in my pocket. 

I know that the seasons come and go, I prefer to look outside in nature at the signs that changes are happening, not at a calendar, even with it's pretty pictures.  I know the way the spring colors change from bright green to a dark rich green that summer has arrived.  I know when plants begin to wilt from the heat, it is high summer and you can see fall creep into the world one colored leaf at a time.  We don't need calendars to follow the seasons, we need to be in touch with the little changes, it becomes as familiar as taking the next breath. 

November full moon.....

Fall has come and is nearly gone.  With this time of year I know that Tipi Season is over too.  The nights become clear and crisp, the winds pick up and a fire that was nice on a cool summer night is now necessary if you want to keep warm in late fall. 

The past two weeks, I have spent as many nights as possible in the tipi.  I have had wonderful company during a couple of those nights.  A time to have ceremony, play flutes, to drum, to hear songs, to enjoy laughter with friends and feel the heat from a warm fire.  Full moons, shooting stars, coyotes howling and owls hooting.  Coping with wind and adjusting flaps, door open or door closed, still it was good and fall was in the air.  One night it began to rain, I went out to adjust the tipi flaps and heard deer snorting not too far away.  What a gift to be so close to the earth and hear and feel it's life around you.

afternoon campfire

My tipi lodge had its' last campfire, a ceremony of gratitude was performed and the dogs and I had a short nap in the afternoon late, mid November.   My wonderful husband and son decided it was a good day to take down the tipi.  And so now the pasture is empty, the tipi is stored away in a dry place for the winter.  I await the signs of late spring, green grass, the end of spring storms and bright sunny days.  Then the tipi lodge will again be raised and will welcome awaiting friends around the fire once again.

Adventure in Remembering..........



Last week I did something that surprised me a little, it felt good, brought back memories of getting on my horse and going exploring.  Going someplace from a different direction, being carefree and requiring a little courage.



Where I grew up......



After my grand daughters got off the bus, I took them for a ride in the Gator.  Lizzy was trying to do a math paper and Cait was reading.  I decided to make it an adventure they would have to give their undivided attention to.   I wanted them to enjoy this warm sun on a late fall day in November.

So we left the horse pasture through the fence that our neighbor had taken down to repair some drain tile.  We were suddenly free to explore a place we had never been.  As we raced along the edge of the still standing corn field, we could hear the hollow dry bones of the corn stalks rattling together from the wonderful breeze.  The girls were suddenly looking around and laughing as they had to duck from low tree branches.  Weed seed flew on us as we raced down the very bumpy ground.  Coming to a rather deep waterway, we had to figure a way around and the girls were full of good ideas. 

As we reached the end of the field we came to the edge of a woods, a place I had not been in probably 30 years.  It looked foreign and yet familiar.  It look so much smaller than I remember.  I hadn't been here since my step father died and the land sold.  It was the house that I grew up in.

It sold all those years ago, the new owners built new structures and backed up a ditch to make a shallow pond that was hauntingly covered with green and an old wooden boat sits afloat at the edge.  Those owners have since moved and the house remained empty for a couple years, neglect took it's tole and so did kids who came and destroyed windows and terrorized the inside of the house.  Critters found harbor there and water leaked from pipes and rain.  It seemed to be in ruin, this home my parents lovingly started building when I was around five years old.

Oh the memories came rushing back, we had an outhouse for years, there is still the idea of a path to that outhouse and on to the chicken houses.  The old shed that protected our rabbits from the wind was gone, as was the trees that held our beloved tree house.  The big oak tree that held our swing is still standing but has died.  One side of the old chinning bar, that was held by two trees, protrudes strangely from one tree still standing, it's end is hidden by the growth of the tree that holds it.  I look at the leaves on the ground and remember having to rake them, funny the area doesn't look as big as I remember it.  I wonder were the old playhouse went and we loved swinging on the thick old grapevines. 

The house itself is being repaired, brought back to it's once beautiful state.  It has been gutted and yet it is found to be strong and solid and will again come back to life.  Windows have been replaced, doors are closed to critters.  A flood of emotions take over me as I write this, remembering the long summers under the shade of those big trees, remembering having only my brother and sister as companions.  Raising rabbits, chickens, and turkeys.  Our dogs and orphan pigs and lambs, my goat, my donkey and then my horse.  So many memories and I got to show my old home place to my grand daughters.

Hair...........

Okay, not the best picture, my hair
looks a lot more grey due to the light
behind me, really I'm not that grey! 

This is a funny blog.....  well to me at least.  I just needed to record a milestone and this seems to be where I record those events. 

It has been a year now since I decided to allow my hair to grow out from the short easy cut I have worn since my children were small.  It was easy to have a wash and dry haircut when you live a very busy lifestyle. 

Then one day last August (2010)  I went to get another haircut and told my stylist that I wanted to grow my hair out, just shape it up for this change in length I would be going through.  I don't know what I was thinking, I just knew I wanted to grow my hair out.  When I announced this to my family, they all looked at me in disbelief, I have gotten used to that "look" from them.  This is not the first time I made an announcement they all thought was rather strange and out of character.  I share this with much laughter.

Now a year has passed.  Having only one little trim to even the sides to the back.  My hair is still thick and even a little wild, humidity does things to it that I have no control over.  It is now long enough to pull back, but I am having trouble with that look, I also think pigtails went out when I became a teenager..... I am also having trouble that there is so much grey in my once very dark hair. 

I wonder, what was I thinking, growing my hair out.  Now I look at pictures of myself with short hair and I don't know who that person is.  I have gotten used to seeing this longer hair.  I have this notion that I want it all one length, no bangs, no layers.  Now most of it is shoulder length, the sides are a little shorter.  A year of changes for me.

Funny things have happened in my evolution of dealing with my hair through the years.  When I was a small child, I remember having my hair tied up in "rags" when it was wet, when it dried and the ties were pulled out, I had Shirley Temple curls.  As a teen, I slept on rollers at night (the things we did to look beautiful).  In the 70's I had long hair until it was slowly trimmed shorter and shorter.  Electric rollers in the 80's and most recently the curling iron were my means of styling my hair. 

Now slowly I am going backwards in my styling, I have purchased rollers, I hate them.  I have new electric rollers and even the pink sponge rollers (almost like tying "rags" in my hair).  No one thing is making me happy, I again wonder when I will be finished with "this" stage of growing out, looking forward to much longer locks. 

I ponder the grey hair too, a sign of my maturity, a sign of wisdom (?), a sign of acceptance.........  I wish I knew.  As for coloring my grey........... I am afraid, what if it looks awful, do I really want to continue with coloring the grey roots?  There are always so many questions and no easy answers. 

I will tell you, I like having hair on my neck, it feels good to me.  I do like pulling it up on a hot day, I like it blowing in the breeze, even it it means getting messy and a little wild.  I do like knowing that it has been a year, I really survived a year of growing my hair out.  I think it is getting easier this growing out process.  I have no intention of going short after making it this far.
So, it is still growing.............