Out of the Mystic, Suicide Memoir Grief Book Release

I fought writing this book for 3 years. I caved when I happened upon the small space devoted to grief in one of the big box book stores. You would think grief would be more than a niche market.

Of the books here, none were on suicide grief. I get it, I doubt many people amble up to the help kiosk at Barnes and Noble asking for directions to the suicide section. But — considering there were nearly 800,000 suicide deaths last year, affecting at least 5 times that in family members. I'd say it's time to get the megaphones out on this silent epidemic.

I couldn't see myself in the submission process with this one, something inherently wrong with someone editing my grief. I self-published. I wanted it to be little more than journaling it out in book form. I don't want personal monetary return from it, I'm setting it up so that all royalties will be donated to various charitable organizations that may assist in coping and rebuilding broken hearts and minds at the end of each anniversary of publication.

If you know of anyone that may benefit from my reflections in the rear view mirror of grief, please tell them about the book. I hope that it lets someone know that they are not alone.

I believe it is scheduled for shipping in about a week to 10 days.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CX17G8S3

POV Morality

 

I have been enjoying an online course about C. S. Lewis and the path that led him to Christianity. He was professionally schooled in philosophy and teated heavily on Aristotle's works. One of his earliest essays was titled "Good." A study on morality.

Morality exists and always will, whether I decide to acknowledge it or not. To paraphrase Lewis, "To refuse the objectivity of morality is to differentiate myself as a human species."

It is impossible not to confront morality on a daily basis. Morality moves the chess pieces of my days; The decision whether to curse the rude counter clerk or pay and walk away, the decision to open a door for a person in a wheelchair or shut the door and watch them struggle with it, and it is the decision to respect a persons voice or choice without berating them. I try (and fail) to use these morality chess pieces to either address or walk away from daily life occurrences, spurned by the conviction of what I believe to be right or wrong — morality.

I don't believe I did anything to acquire morality, I do think it was tweaked here and there as I confronted this or that over the years, but I find that mostly it is innate and exist as a truth. If I don't feel good about myself, it is usually that I have strayed from my center, my core beliefs. I had my ear tickled by this or that. My center is the cross.

I find the simplest things, the least complicated to be the most rewarding. "The sun looks down on nothing half so good as a household laughing together over a meal, or two friends talking over a pint of beer, or a man alone reading a book that interests him," C.S. Lewis.

Cloud spotting every situation in politics, armies and institutions, (although collective necessary activities, he says) prolongs immorality, and Lewis calls these, "a meaningless vanity and vexation of spirit."

Nope, no vexation in the pines this morning. None, nada. Happy Sunday y'all.

Day-tripping Coddywomple to the Fairy Tale Cabin in the Enchanted Forest

I love car trips to destinations unknown. Trips within a five hour radius of coastal SC are perfect for me. 

This day-trip was approximately 20 minutes further out than my usual excursions, but I knew the experience was going to be worth it, because I know Kara O'Brien and that's what she does best. I first met Kara and her partner Kate when my friend and I did a day trip to her Alpapa Bamboo Forest Tree House in the suburbs of Atlanta a few years back. 

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/13245035?source_impression_id=p3_1700309957_bV34XwIF9VkpeWxS

My belly tickles a little from excitement, mingled with a tad bit of respectful fear of the unknown zip code. The first stop was to pick up my friend on the way to Hot Damn Alabama. Per usual we talked non-stop for about 3 hours, plumb across the state of Georgia. 

I told her the time zone should change soon and told her Alabama is in the central time zone and one hour behind us. She said "Oh", looking surprised and then told me, "I didn't know where we were going, I thought we were going to North  Carolina.

I was cracking up, she was still talking, "I told Glenn and the kids that I really didn't care, I was just going wherever you were taking me."  

 

The terrafirma started changing, we began ascending and descending Alabama’s rambling hills. Five hours and 30 minutes after I left my driveway, we pulled up to the gate of the Enchanted Forest. We would be staying in the Airbnb Fairy Tale Cabin, the first of the unique experience short term rentals that Kara is building here. The aptly named cabin is perched on a sloping woodline. Two river rock chimneys were the inspiration for the design. Kara happened upon them on a hike one day looking at properties. The 2 old forgotten chimneys called out to her to re-habitate the forest. Kara is a very good wordsmith and I won't even try to recall the work that has gone into the originality of this structure. She does it best, and I will provide the link for her to do so. My pics should tell the story pretty well too. 

The end result of her labor leads to a rewarding rest for the weary and rejuvenation for the not so weary. Quiet solitude just oozes from this place. Bird-speak, quieted by breaking branches of other wild critters, reminds me of how earth once was, how it still can be if we don't cut everything down.

 

Windows and woods, I didn't worry that anyone was looking in because — we are alone. And whatever could see me from the dark, won't tell. 

This place is just magical. Think antique barn wood planks, tin, glass doorknobs, and stained glass. No TV, no want for it. The kitchen has a beautiful granite countertop, the bath has a stone tile floor crafted with pieces of pottery and tile, and glass bottles from the initial clearing of the land here. There wasn't a single thing we needed on our trip, everything was thought out for us. We just dropped our bags, grabbed an apple, some cheese, and a couple of wine glasses and headed to the porch to dissolve the ride away in a Adirondack and nest swing.

I knew that I probably should read the guest book to get the where, when and why's, but I didn't want the act to bring me back from my swing/wine/apple and cheese induced state of being just yet. I cooked us some salmon on toasted English muffins, topped with over easy eggs and sided with avocado and brie. The double element cooktop was perfect for this.

Time stopped, literally. We could barely make it to 8 o'clock before climbing the ladder to the big comfy loft bed. Nicely weighted coverlets and good sheets, that's the ticket to slumberland. Oh, and the magnificent large sky light! A blanket of stars was the last thing I remembered that night. 

The morning was a chilly 42 degrees. I made my tea extra hot and made my way to the nest swing on the porch. I was wrapped up in the couch blanket, steaming tea, hoodie pulled up when the sun crested through the tree's. Birds were waking, and I could hear the bray of cattle as they were being let out from stalls nearby. My friend joined me shortly. She and I migrated back and forth between making coffee and tea and back to the porch all morning. 

I spied a walking stick by the chimney and headed to Wolf Creek, the quiet creek meanders by Kara’s property. It was a magnificent walk, vibrant fall leaves peppered me the entire way. I closed my eyes while sitting in the reclining chair by the creek. AI can't reproduce the real thing, it may duplicate the sounds, even the sight of it, but it can't make me "feel" it. The breeze, the leaves rustling, the hawks calling, the trickle of the water as it slaps over the beaver dam. I even got to see the beaver before we left the next day. I pulled a half buried matchbox car from the ground to take back to the Fairy Tale Cabin. A ledge by the outside chimney holds the buried treasures of the woods brought back by other guests; Bottles, bones, ceramics, enamelware, old baby rattle and now an old metal matchbox car. 

Later I walked down the path to another plot that Kara is building, a thatch covered earthen  home right smack into the hillside. It will be looking out over a steep embankment and into the brilliant sunrises over the valley below. 

The evening was spent digesting the most wonderful authentic Mexican food ever from a restaurant Kara recommended. The night was creeping in as we returned. My friend enjoyed some time in the jacuzzi on the platform built around the second chimney that Kara happened upon that day. A huge barred owl flew off behind us as we relaxed more outside into the night. Okay, so it was only 7:30.   

The next morning as I watched my friend latch the gate to the Enchanted Forest, I felt grateful for the time we spent together, the super long days of Alabama and my incredibly creative and talented friend Kara. I hope she keeps salvaging and building and making things to share for a long time to come. 

https://www.alpacatreehouse.com/fairy-tale-cabin

Our Fair Lady, Tinley

Two old geezers pulled up to the Coastal Carolina Fair with a wide-eyed 3 year old great-grandbaby in tow. 

Like all the people we said we weren't going to be like when we got old, here we were indeed, arriving at our destination early, like when restaurants start serving dinner at 4, the matinee movies at 10, and — when the fair gate opens.

 

The flagman kept moving us further and further away from the entrance. My feet started hurting just thinking of the walk. 

Tinley was fixated on the towering Ferris Wheel before we even got her out of the car seat. Rather than follow the crowd walking (who might be lost) I asked the flagman where the nearest entrance was.  He directed us to a tunnel that went under the road very near us. Score! 

Tinley said "Scary" when we entered the dark tunnel. I saw a shadow of something large lying in the middle of the pathway. Please don't let this be a dead animal, I thought to myself. I laughed when I made out what it was and then I got sad. Someone dropped their $15 turkey leg. It looked like they were on their first bite too. 

Waves of nostalgia overcame me when we walked through the gates. I don't care how old you are when you go to the fair, when you pass through the gates and smell the combo of fried everything, you are 10 again.

Little Miss Tinley marched us right up to the Ferris Wheel, first thing. But the two old geezers with bladders the size of walnuts had to find the restrooms right off the bat. She was patient in the line as we waited our turn to board, grinning from ear to ear when she clamored into a bench.   

I sat across from Don and his great-grand. 62 years separate them. She doesn't know this, she thinks we are 12 years old. 

That 15 minute Ferris Wheel Ride was amazing. 39 years replayed with each belly flop at the top. I remembered my young hubby, our first date, right here. I was a single mom with two little girls not much older than Tinley. We rode the Ferris Wheel that night. I can see their eyes today in Tinley's as we made each loop. I also remembered my middle aged hubby with our first granddaughter, Tinley's mama, on this ride. And here we are today with Tinley, our third generation little girl is giggling with us.

 

Tinley is fearless for such a tiny tot. She barely comes in at 30 pounds and almost a foot too short for all of the rides she wants to ride. 

Don has vertigo now and could barely watch us go by in the tea cups and bumble bee's and various kiddie rides. 

While I knew she was having a blast, all of these seemed too tame for the little one who had her eyes on the roller coaster nearby. The screams coming from the ride made her laugh. When we got off of the BumbleBee (which was too much for me) she headed straight to the roller coaster. We showed her she was too short and she didn't grumble, but wanted to sit and watch them as they zoomed by. She said "Here we go '' and "Scream" as they changed passengers 3 times. Finally I saw the operator let a very young child get on with his father. I thought we could try it, I grabbed Tinley's hand and we hurried up the ramp. I could feel her little heart pounding as I held her like a mama bear. She indeed screamed as we whizzed by her Paw Paw over and over. The grin on her face was permanent for an hour. Her first roller coaster!

 

We rode two sheets of tickets out. I had a couple left and we headed to the pony carousel. A man held out a handful of tickets to Don and told him that they were leaving and we should use them. Don thanked him and we didn't think anything more of it. 

We boarded the ponies on the carousel. A Hispanic man came up and wanted to put his daughter beside us on a pony, he asked with his eyes, I answered with the shake of my head. The music started, the ride jerked and around we went, the ponies climbed their poles going up and down. I was looking for Don as we passed to get her to wave and when I looked back at Tinley, she had stuck her arm out to the little girl to hold her hand. They rode like that for several rounds.

When we got off the carousel, Tinley headed to the gate, just done. No whining, no crying, just done. Don asked me for the tickets that were left and went to a father in the crowd and gave them to him. Tinley held her hand out for "tix'' as well. I gave her the little advertising part of the tickets that I was saving to put in a journal to her Mimi in heaven. She held them in her hand tightly, I was pretty sure that I would get them back when she went to sleep in the car seat on the way home. But, that wasn't the case. When we hit the fairway, Tinley picked out a couple and stopped them in their tracks, holding out the tickets/not tickets. I explained to the couple that they weren't  tickets but she thought they were and wanted them to have them. They thanked her and she beamed. As we walked down the last feet of the boulevard, Tinley looked up at all of the colors and waving banners for this and that and smiled.

We headed back into the tunnel to leave. The turkey drumstick was gone, but its memory remains and it will end up in a conversation somewhere years from now, "Do you remember the time at the fair that..." 

Tinley went to sleep within minutes of getting in the car. I didn't have any ephemera to paste into the journal, but what I had was better. Don and I held hands as we pulled out, "What an awesome day" I told him. We recounted little clips of the day, I told him Tinley gave away her "tix."  

"Yes, I saw her holding that little girl's hands too, kids show us what the world can really be like." he said. 

The fair will be over soon, the fairway will resemble the boulevard of broken dreams; spilled fries, squished packages of ketchup, sticky everything, lost tickets trampled into the ground and yes, even turkey legs. 

Such is life, such is the fair. It is magical, wonderful and scary. Today I think I caught the brass ring.

 

I took these pics while cruising by them on Lake Moultrie last year in our boat. I cast my fishing line up under them because I thought "If I were a fish, I'd like to live here, in the magical shade and protection of this moss shrouded Juniper tree." I guess the fish thought the same thing and decided not to take the bait. 

I love how the moss has claimed the conifers as a host. I know it's detrimental to the health of tree's but look at that color combo. 

A few new Sherwin Williams colors I came up with yesterday 

Gray Berries

Gin as Tonic

Gifts From Above

 

I am blessed to live on a tiny acre between old growth pines. On morning walks to the chicken coop, little Surcee's are gifted me. Surcee means; little gifts for no apparent reason. I think the origin of the word is Scottish. 

This month's offerings have been delightful! Hawk feathers, owl feathers, dove feathers, tufts of nest and this latest, lichen.  

I believe the surcee's to be apologies for the dreadful inundation of Copperhead snakes this year. I think we are at 10 right now. In their defense, they have all been killed at dusk, which is their bewitching hour and happens to coincide with Zoe's potty walk. 

Not all surcee's are tangible. Some are audible, the turkey's squabbling in the pine ridge nearby, the wailing of bob-cats during mating season. Some are visible, said bob-cats, turkey's, rabbit, birds of all species, butterflies, mayflies, dragonflies, hummingbird's...

  

But, I'm most fond of the little things I can bring in to my little space and look at when the days shorten, when the cold comes — and it will. 

"The longer I live, the more beautiful life becomes,

If you foolishly ignore beauty, 

You will be impoverished.

But — if you invest in beauty, 

it will remain with you all the days of your life."

Frank Lloyd Wright

 

Puzzled

 

  

    

I haven't put a puzzle together for 2 1/2 years now. I presumed this as just another area of my life

that has been altered by grief. 

    

Subconsciously, I think I knew that the last thing I needed was the additional challenge of trying to    make pieces of anything make sense, to put broken back together seemed an impossibility.  

While wandering through the toy department last week looking for a puzzle for Tinley, I inadvertently stumbled across one that spoke to me, not the puzzle itself, the name, Winds of Change.

Winds of Change, yes indeed, I can identify with those. It reminded me of a weird word that popped up on a meme recently, Uitwaaien.

Uitwaaien is a Dutch word that cannot be fully translated into English: it literally means 'to walk in the wind" but in the more figurative and commonly used sense, it means to take a brief break to clear one's head.

I have found that "walking in the wind" does just that for me. It drowns out the internal noise. Walking the beach at tide change is my favorite, the wind always seems to kick up then. Another favorite place to walk in the wind is in my own yard, right before a storm (not during) while the leaves swish together like a feather tambourine.

I bought the puzzle, I'm enjoying it. It seems that things that got turned around are slowly righting themselves, while things that maybe needed to change, have/are.

Winds of Change, I like to think there will be a new place to rest when it subsides.