My Whole30 Continues

My Whole90 a 63 year old Gramma on the Mend.

Over the course of the last 4 months I have completed a Whole30 and continued it into a Whole90.  Ninty days of eating as explained in the best selling book It Starts With Food. 
In August (the 4th month) I reintroduced dairy and have not had any problem with it.  My segue into adding grains (brown rice and then wheat) was not as successful resulting in a feeling of having a stone in my stomach.  My free fall into a sugar/chocolate experiment resulted in full on misery. One escapade with the vile sugar left me with a migraine headache and becoming one with the bathroom as I swore never again.  I have been taking it slow and steady.  Panic hit when I wanted to try and eat some sugar.  I decided I had to try it and I learned an important lesson. This Whole30 experience and the reintroduction of food groups clearly shows me what my body needs to feel good.  Real healthy proteins, Whole 30 vegetables, healthy fats and oils, water. 

September 2nd I started a new Whole30.  I have come along way and feel much better. My blood pressure is lower. My arthritis and joint pain is no longer keeping me from being active. I have a long way to go. I learned I wasn't ready to stop Whole30 eating.  The reintroduction of foods had hit me on the head with how badly I need to keep doing this. I read the The Conservative Reintroduction by Melissa Hartwig and found some sound advise. Go slow do what works for me.
These little guys need their Gramma. 

The park in Florida in summer is one hot place, but this Gramma pushed her grandkids on the swings, took them home made their dinner, played, gave baths, and got them to bed.  
~ Anne~

Remembering Momma (babyhood through Alzheimers)

My Mother  B.C.A. 1912 ~ 2009

From the beginning of one century to the beginning of the New Millennium.  My dear mom. I miss you.
I want to ask you more questions. Life is so full of questions.

 

 The early 20th Century

 the adored first grandchild.

Barbara 

Barbara

Her younger years.

Mom on left. Possibly my favorite picture of her. Enjoying the boys pipes with a girlfriend on an outing. 1930's

The middle years. Life as a wife, mother and artist. Caught between two worlds.

The War Years with First Son Ross and girlfriend Judy

Ross, Mom, Chip

Mom and Dad their 25th anniversary

B.C.Arnold the Artist

The years in Georgia. Her time to be her own person.

Mom's Georgia Mountain Cabin

Georgia years, watching us head out for a ride in the Smokies. Trackrock Cabins

Great Grandmother

Momma and Me

Her 90th Years... The Alzheimer Assault.

Age 90. Still Brilliant, Eager, Inquiring

Surrounded by the next generations and slightly confounded by it all.

The Years When Memory Escaped and Love Took Over

Ravaged by Alzheimer's age 96. Still Beautiful. 

The Gift to live a long and convoluted life. Guided by faith, Loved by family, Cherished in Memory. 

We Look Unto The Heavens. Our Strength and Salvation .
Beautiful and Young
The Breeze Soft On Her Skin.

Alzheimer's Stole You.

Love Kept You.

Remembering You. With Love and Tears.

~Lambie

The Year Life Said Pay Attention

Happy New Year.
2012 was full of challenges and blessings. 
Brennan was born on his Great Gramma's 100th birthday.  She died 4 years ago tonight at one minute to midnight.  Miss you Mom and know you are watching over us.
The seemingly impossible was made possible with the gift of a liver transplant.
My brother visited.  My nieces visited and my son surprised me with a visit.
I got my first tattoo.
There was no sliding through this past year.  At every turn I was forced to sink or swim and to pay attention to my faith, my God.
Friends and family at every turn kept me going.  I have been blessed beyond measure.
In the next year I cannot imagine what will come my way.  I have learned to expect the unexpected and to be greatful for every moment. 

Leo in the snow

I got to spend ten days with this grandson and in April he will have a little  brother or sister come to join him. 
I hope to be more mindful of every moment in 2013 and to take better care of myself.  I want to see these beautiful grandchildren of mine grow up. 
Happy New Year and thank you God for this year. 
Anne
 

Christmas Eve Siesta Beach

'May the God of hope fill you
with all joy and peace as you
trust in Him, so that you
may overflow with hope by
the power of the Holy Spirit.'
Roman 15:13 NIV


Anne

Memory

A moment in time. 
memory
love
a scent on a breeze
vapor...air

A photo is memory collected.
Revisiting a moment long gone like it is present again.
Here is my grandfather. Cap'n Colman.
That's Captain Irving Page Colman.  The shiny black hull to the right behind him is his boat. The Alice Elizabeth.  Grampa built her on his property in Scituate, Ma.  Here she is in the Scituate Boat Yard freshly painted and waiting for a spring launch.  He climbed up and down that ladder a million times and worked his arthritic knarly fingers in the cold March and April Massachusetts damp to get her ready. 
On this day he has company in his work.  I know because that is my brother Ross's  black TR3 behind him.  I am guessing this was taken the last early spring of my brother Ross's life in 1966.  He visited Grampa several times that spring, helped him get the boat ready and later sailed with Grampa in the waters off Scituate, MA. My last time spent with Ross was on this boat sailing with him and Grampa.
One picture and a thousand memories.  I can smell the salt air and feel the warmth of the wool pants and jacket Grampa is wearing.  He used to wrap me up in his wool p-coat when I'd get chilly onboard. 
One moment... a life... a shutter snap... a photo....

Anne

Happy Thanksgiving

I have so much to be thank ful for this year that I could burst. 
Right now I am bursting from all the delicious food my daughter made.  She cooked enough for an army and sent us home with huge to go containers so we will even have left overs.
I woke up this am and thought how lucky I was to be able to relax this year and let the younger generation take over in their own kitchens!  That was a heavenly feeling. 
I even got to snuggle on the couch with my five month old grandson while he fell asleep.

God has blessed us in so many ways this year.  It was a wonderful day.
God bless my family and friends.
Anne

God's Eyes

My favorite picture of Mya.

Sometimes she is shy and even closes her eyes to make herself feel safe.  You know, "if I can't see you then you can't see me".
In this picture she is at Siesta Beach. The huge expanse of sand and water surrounding her.  The Gulf of Mexico behind her as far as one can see. 
Mya is not afraid.  Her eyes are on her mother and father.  Her parents are with her.   She is safe.  She is bold.  She is striding with confidence, joy, purpose.  She is exalted. 

In this same way our Father God 's eyes watch over us.   If only we will look to him in every circumstance we can feel this safe, this bold, this exalted.

King David asked in Psalm 139: 7-10

"If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast."

 

The Lord will watch over you

In Psalm 121:7-8, he gave us a precious promise:

"The Lord will keep you from all harm - He will watch over your life.
The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore."

 

Blessings on you my dearest Mya.  I pray you always feel the love of God your Heavenly Father and know in your heart this safety.
Gramma.

Phoebe

Our Dear Phoebe passed away last night.  With Angie at her side she went peacefully back to our maker.

Angie watched over her.

A Prayer for Animals

Hear our humble prayer, O God, for our friends, the animals,
especially for animals who are suffering:
for any that are hunted or lost of deserted
or frightened or hungry;
for all that must be put to death.
We entreat for them all Thy mercy and pity,
and for those who deal with them
we ask a heart of compassion and gentle hands and kindly words.
Make us, ourselves, to be true friends to animals
and so to share the blessings of the merciful.

- Albert Schweitzer

 

 

Rest in Peace Dear Phoebe

 

Yes I Did

Did you really do it?  Or is it just a picture?  No, I really did it. That is my wrist you are looking at.

Something that says what I can't always manage to say.  Something beautiful. Something I never would have dreamed that I would do.  Yet there it is along with the miracles and the Faith.  There is my one and only tattoo.
I am home. We are all presently in a safe harbour.  God is with us.
Anne

What's Knitting?

Not Lace Mitts...

They are beautiful, but way to complicated for me to be concentrating on here.

It was a good day. I made another pair of these.

 

The white lace mitts are in a tangle in my purse.  One day I swear I will learn to knit lace.  Just not one of 'these' days.

:) Anne

 

The Blessing

God has blessed us
with a gift that is beyond compare in this world.

A family has chosen to give an organ for transplant. 

God gives freely and with great magnitude.  This family has also.

Out of the deep and profound loss of their twenty year old son or daughter they have been somehow able to give life to others.  How?  It is so hard to imagine this kind of bravery. 

It is life changing.
There are no words...

I have spent 24 years thinking how some day this gift and ONLY this gift would save the life of someone I love.  I have prayed for this countless nights.
I have begged, I have wept, I have had faith and I have lost faith only to find it again.  I have given it to God and I have taken it back many times. 

God in his great Mercy knows a mother's heart. 

There are three mother's hearts here. A birth mother. The mother of the donor. There is my heart the adoptive mother's heart.  God holds them all.

How do I go on.  What can I give of myself?  So great these gifts to me have been.

It is truly humbling and life changing.

We are all still in the midst of this.  As the days go by I need to find a path that will allow me to give back some how, some way, even a measure of
this gift. 

The Dr said today to measure progress one day at a time. Yesterday I was told by the same Dr to measure progress in hours.  I have been told this is a roller coaster ride this experience of receiving an organ transplant. It is.

Only God knows the answers to life's mystery.  To God and God alone I turn and give thanks and ask for Peace to be upon these other Mother's. 

Registering to be an organ doner is easy.  It is a box to check that says yes this is my wish.  It is an important choice to make.  Important because the act of giving these organs is far far more complicated for the loved ones the donor leaves behind.  I have thought about this so much in the last five days.

The reality that the death of a loved one is imminent.
The family gathering.
The bewildering choices and decisions to carry out this request. 
The final good byes.
The transplant team of Dr's and Interns waiting at the end of the hall. 
The behind the scenes team of experts and coordinators.
The long list of waiting terminally ill patients.
The donor's wishes.
The final choice and permission.
The transplant recipient waiting.  Getting the call. Waiting. Getting prepared. Waiting.
The unknown.  The known.
It is unknown who each other are.
It is known that there is love and hope.
Hope from the donor family that a life cut short will have Grace and Meaning in this sharing.
Hope from the receipients family that life will be given an opportunity to flourish with Grace and Meaning.

God is in this balance.  It is neither fair or unfair. None of life is. 
It is what we get.  What God gives or takes is beyond words. 

I am praying for understanding of what I cannot imagine. 
I am praying for a good outcome for us all. For the Grace of God that passes all understanding to enfold each one of us and give us peace.

Anne.













 

Packing For the Hospital

I started packing. There is only worrying and packing to do. I choose to pack.
I have my mother's bible ready. It is crammed with notes and papers.

Mom's Bible

There are passages marked in here that I know will be perfect when I need them.
Then I packed the project bags.
Hospital Knitting is different from any ordinary knitting.  I guess it is even more ordinary.  It is knitting that you just knit. The stitches you know and can rely on.  The ones that comfort you. 
I have an old friend in this bag.

Kathleen Taylor's wristers

 Wristersby Kathleen Taylor. They are the perfect wristers and so pretty made with bright self striping yarn. Kathleen writes a blog that I follow. She is a writer and fiber instructed her patterns are easy to follow.
In this bag I have Knitty wristers.  Knitty is always good. Like thousands of old and dear friends are stitting with you knitting along on their much beloved patterns.
This is my knitty project bag with some beautiful wool yarn a friend sent me last year.


Fall Berry By Knitty
 

this wrister has a pattern so it will be for the really good days. Since the yarn is white I will be able to see the pattern through my cataracts.  Yeah I'm hoping too.


Groups of Loops Cowl

by Dani Hodge

I have lush old Shetland Wool in this bag. For a simple cowl. I found this yarn at a thrift shop and I know it has waited years for this chance to be picked up and worked with.



Silver's Sock Class
 

Here is a bag of socks.  The endless socks. Not the colonoscopy socks those are a dead end... These are hopeful pretty blue stretchy socks  .... Hopeful I can find the original pattern. (and I did on ravelry)
Here is everything all lying out and ready for packng.

& yes the Xanax is packed.  A mother needs HER Mother's  bible, her knitting and her Xanax when her child is in the hospital. 
They all fit in the big red Donate Blood project bag

I have not donated blood lately, my H & H don't want to cooperate, neither does my blood pressure.  Maybe you will have the opportunity to donate.  It is so important.

I am ready and waiting for the call that says "yes YES" and then I will book my flight and leave for Boston.  It is just hours away. I am ready. I have been ready for years. 
I am praying for the donor family. I am praying for my family and for the Dr's hands and hearts.
I am relying on my angels above and my friends and family here on earth.  I am in God's hands and so is my son.
I am full of hope and Xanax. Please pray with me. God to guide us, God to Hold us. God to bring us Salvation.
Anne.

Waiting

Waiting ...  Merriam Webster
verb
to remain stationary in readiness or expectation
to look forward  expectantly
to hold back expectantly
to be ready and available
to remain temporarily neglected or unrealized

Wikipedia, Patience
Patience (or forbearing) is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. Patience is the level of endurance one can take before negativity. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast.

Waiting for a transplant...
be steadfast
have faith
be ready to be neglected or unrealized
be ready and remain expectant

Hope is a better
word.
Hope is faith
Hope is being available and expectant.
Faith is being ready even if what you hope for is unrealized. Faith is knowing God is always with you.
Hope is intangible
...it is the lifeline that you cannot see.

Hope is taking a leap of Faith

Vintage Memory Haze

I recently opened another box of my mother's things.  Simple everyday items.  They are vintage now as years have passed and the common things we took for granted have achieved a new level of importance to those who love vintage, collect vintage.

My mother was storing away her sewing supplies.  She saved everything and neatly put things away for future use.  That is her writing up there on those paper labels.  Labels made from recycled scraps of envelopes, the back unused sides of writing papers...she used everything.  It is plain to see she has thread in a plastic bag, buttons in a paper sack, rug & embroidery hooks (she misspelled embroidey...a clue) each bag carefully tagged. 
My Mother was leaving visual reminders to herself in the most practical of ways.  One with Alzheimer's can look at a spool of thread in a plastic bag.  Plainly seeing it's color, shape, and might even take it out and hold it in wonder.  Searching for meaning in this relic of the moments just gone by.  Clenching the fingers aged with knobs of arthritis around its smooth surface and with mind racing in a windstorm of noise be unable to remember it's everyday name. It is hard to imagine being in that spot.  We all forget momentarily why we walked into the kitchen or where we set our keys last...this is so much more.  This is the loss of controll of everyday actions and thoughts. This is scary stuff.  My mother fixed this problem for years without mentioning her vast unknown fears to us her family.  She labeled every plain everyday thing.  Took notes and then copied them over again and again. 

Mom also copied down what was important to her.  Left little pieces of paper with quotes that were important enough to be transcribed and left behind.  The things she wanted to remember to say to us, or hear again herself. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The sky is full of blue
and full of the mind
of God"
         -child
from book "Dakota"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Christian love is the
warm,
free,
continuing expression
of intelligent good will
to all
without being
judgemental
or manipulative
(Walker Evans
definition)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vintage collectibles.  So much more meaning when you think of how easily things can be forgotten.  We treasure everyday objects because they are what our daily lives are made of.  What we build our futures with.  The thoughts, readings, buttons, threads that bring us to our eventual end.  If you loose the 'thread' of it you have lost yourself.  Alzheimer's is just as devastating to minds and lives as the land fills that so greedily cover up and rot our possessions. 
If you look at the CT scan of a brain with Alzheimer's you plainly see vast dark areas of nothing amidst the remains of functioning matter.  In this way it is like collecting vintage. You cherish the broken bits of pottery as you hope you find all the missing pieces to the set of Grandmother's silver. What bits you can no longer find or retrieve you will regret, tell their story and remember.   If you are so unlucky as to have lost the memory then you can only hope to find your notes. 

Thanks for leaving the notes Mom.  I am remembering you.  Your brilliant creative mind and I cherish your notes.  They whisper to me the things you didn't remember or have time to say to me. I find you in them and in that I am fortunate. 

from Mom

Mom in her high button shoes.

Love, Lambie

Grandfather

This Moment In Time...

Leo and his Gak

Breathless

Breathless with anticipation...

We can't wait!

getting ready

Phoebe knows something is up

Only 5 days left to wait!

So Darn Cute

We are all ready and waiting!...

A Peaceful Place

Remembering

O Judge of the nations, we remember before you with grateful hearts the men and women of our country who in the day of decision ventured much for the liberties we now enjoy. Grant that we may not rest until all the people of this land share the benefits of true freedom and gladly accept its disciplines. This we ask in the Name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
The Book of Common Prayer