De-Liver Me Tour ~ November 26, 2014

Thanksgiving is upon us and I have so much to be thankful for. The universe continues to amaze and reveal itself in curious ways.

When Starships Collide

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Update: I've been on the drug combo of Ribivarin and Sovaldi for Hepatitis C since October 17th. As reported before, there have been no side effects. What I wasn't prepared for was the swiftness of quantifiable results. I had baseline tests done on October 15th and my viral load was 135,825. At the end of the first week it was at 88 and has continued to drop. My liver inflammation indicators: AST, ALT and ALP are within the normal range for the first time in 20 plus years. Say What? I had my quarterly CT scan and MELD blood tests this week. What's next depends on the CT scan being clear and Hep C being undetectable in my blood. I should hear back from my doc next week.

One more thing off the list and a full circle tour: Headed to San Francisco on November 17th to get reacquainted with a couple we met through our friend Maureen Lomasney. Alice and John have generously offered Rod their spare bedroom while I'm captive a UCSF. After a short visit we headed to Mill Valley and on a whim stopped at Grilly's Mexican Food down near Tam High School for lunch. Great choice, excellent meal. Up and over Mt. Tam to Stinson Beach for a 2 mile walk and to check on the yard and house plants at my cousin's cabin. The day was absolutely gorgeous, we got home before dark and totally refreshed. 

Omne Trium Perfectum: In the last 5 days we've had friends visit from here and beyond, quite literally. One of my oldest pals, Tom Gross and his friend Suzanne, came by for a couple of hours on Saturday on their way back to New Hampshire. He's moving back home to Sebastopol in January after having been gone 7 years. Sunday and Monday, my college roommate, Maggie Rose and her husband came all the way from Cedro Woolley, WA for a two day visit. We hadn't seem them in 5 or 6 years. Last night my late friend Trisha showed up in my dreams with a hug and a smile. The clans and my spirit guides are gathering to walk with me on the journey, you may know them as you know me:

Crow: Questioner of Authority

Crow

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Wolf: Stamina and Strength

Wolf

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Swan: Beneath my serenity lies a fighting spirit

Swan

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Be thankful for family, friends and all the little things. Life is short so get off your butt and on with the journey.  Thanks once again to Etsy artisans who never fail at illustrating my thoughts and musings. 

Fabulous Friday Finds ~ Bird Garglers ~ November 21, 2014

What is a Bird Gargler™? 

From potter Douglas Fey: the name is "Derived from a combination of colonial American earthenware birdhouses called bird bottles and medieval gargoyles. As a gargoyle gargles water, the Bird Garglers™ appear to gargle birds". I think I need one of these where it can be seen from my studio. 

If you want to learn more check out his website at

http://www.douglasfeypottery.com/douglasfeypottery.com

The Trunk Series ~ Moments in Time ~ December 2, 1963

Fall of 1963 was my first semester at UCSB. I didn't have a car at the time and rode home for Thanksgiving with a friend from Mill Valley. I flew back on December 2nd. Take note of the cost of the flight. Yes, you're reading it correctly at $22.37. I looked up the conversion to 2014 dollars and it translates to $171.49. The actual cost of a one way flight, half a century later, is now about $220.00.  

Check out the Hertz ticket pouch. Oh Baby, a Chevy hardtop. Maggie, my housemate in the Pine Hall dorms, had a white one. We saw a lot of California in that beast and once set a land speed record from UCSB to Mill Valley to make it to a party at Rym Partridge's house. 

It's amazing how a small piece of paper can open doors to the past, to your history, and to some of your monumental dumb ass moves as a teenager. It's a wonder we survived our youth.

Fabulous Friday Finds ~ November 14, 2014

Welcome to the whimsical side of the world of Robert Stebleton. He is not only a woodcarver but an accomplished painter. Learn more about him and see his works at this link:  http://robertstebletonfineart.com/about

I dare you to keep a straight face the rest of the day. Have a good weekend.

Stop the presses! The rest of the story from the Album of the Heart entry of March 9, 1874

Shortly after I posted the March 9, 1874 entry to my blog (Nov 7th) I heard from my friend Margo Metegrano, a dedicated researcher of poems and their authors, and the driving force behind CowboyPoetry.com. She was intrigued by the spelling of "momentoes" in the poem title and decided to look into it. Low and behold she found the author and entire poem in the online archives of Lloyd's Weekly London Newspaper dated August 8, 1847. I didn't catch it but "momentoes" is a misspelling of the word "mementoes". Ida's entry was excerpted from the poem but the spelling of the title was her own.

Mementoes of the Past

Where is there a little flower,
To fill the heart with sadness?
What is there in a leafless bower,
To give the spirit gladness?
What is there in the flowing streams,
That bind the traveller fast?
Those transient, visionary gleams
Momentoes of the past!

The little violet in our path,

May give us days of sorrow;

Tis such a fondness memory hath,

Of youthful years to borrow:

Whole volumes, at such times, are read

Within the humblest flower,

As we the paths of childhood tread

If but for one brief hour!

The rust of time, frail memory's strings

May almost wear away;

But one light touch the music brings

Of some forgotten day:

The chord once struck, ah! how it thrills

And vibrates at the heart;

With harmony the bosom fills,

No string forgets it's part.

A lowly flower, a faded leaf,

The murmurs of a stream,

May give, from woe, a short relief.

Bring back a time worn dream;

May waft remembrance back from age,

Its coldness, and its rime

As, for a moment, we engage,

With warm spring's merry time. 

Through mists of years, we flutter back

To fair elysian fields,

And wander down a memory's track, 

To land the pleasure yields;

Where once we culled the sweetest flowers

Through verdant valleys passed;

Oh, welcome in declining hours,

Mementoes of the past! 

The published poem cites M. C. Cooke as the author. I believe him to be British born Mordecai Cubitt Cooke (1825 ~ 1914). He had little formal education but was well known as a mycologist, illustrator, lecturer, editor, translator and the occasional poet. He was a prolific writer and a skilled artist. His biographer, Mary English, sums him up as a "Victorian Naturalist, Mycologist, Teacher and Eccentric". 

So there you have it, the rest of the story and a wonderful poem. Thank you Margo for keeping my train on the rails. 

Album of the Heart ~ March 9, 1874

This short poem in Great Grandmother Flora's Album of the Heart is from Ida Nevis. She may have been a classmate or a fellow student at the Dance Academy in San Juan. I did find a portrait artist by the name of Ida Nevis in San Francisco City Directory for the year 1883. Perhaps she was the one. 

"Momentoes of the Past"

The little violet in our path

May give us days of sorrow

Wild Violets

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Tis such a fondness memory hath

Of youthful years to borrow!

The Flower Children, Rod and Me
Circa 1981

Whole volumes at such times we read

Within the humblest flower

Forget Me Not

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As we the paths of childhood tread

If but for one brief hour!

My mother, Barbara Le Francis Bagg
circa 1919, Flora's Granddaughter 

Once again I've combed through numerous poetic references and have not been able to find a published author. Are these words of insight and wisdom the writings of a girl in her 20's or someone of middle age looking back at youth? Who is to say? Sometimes the importance is simply in the words, not who wrote them. 

You Gotta Believe ~ November 2, 2014

You can't explain it but sometimes you just know things. When I started the De-Liver Me Tour blog I chose "innings"  to mark the sequence of events. There was no particular rhyme or reason, it just felt right. 

Photo credit Christopher Chung

Santa Rosa Press Democrat

As Giants fans we began to see a light at the end of the tunnel when the playoffs started. Perhaps an improbable dream, but I knew they'd make it to the World Series. It was also going to come down to the bottom of the ninth, game seven. They'd be there for me. If they won then I would win, the Transplant City Tour would be a success. It's as simple as that. 

Dreamer of Improbable Dreams

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It was kind of like the Professional Bull Riding finals in Las Vegas in October 2013. Our guy, J. B. Mauney, was a long shot to win but we decided we had be there just in case. The championship race was so tight it came down to the last ride on the last day. He won the title. Sound familiar?

No matter what is going on in your life, make room for your dreams, crowbar them into your consciousness if necessary. Look forward and set some goals, even little ones. Become a warrior and an advocate.   

Key Hole

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We have the power, we just need to remember we also hold the key to finding it. So with that said, it's time for us to get up off our collective butts and take a walk, or dance in the kitchen, maybe pick a bouquet or fix a meal for someone. Call a friend. "Life is short and if you miss something, quite frankly Scarlet, it's your own fault". My darling Grandmother said that!