Docs Who Wear Crocs

"Docs Who Wear Crocs"

postcard

Life is full of meanings. Yesterday we drove from Katy to Tomball for seven minutes with a doc who made me feel so special. He didn't remember me at all. That means I am especially easy to forget, I guess, since he gave me a different story to the same problem. He recommended surgery the first time. Yesterday he said no although . . . Well, never mind. I am upset with him because he dismissed my unease that stems from not being able to write or draw or read for lengths of time. I wonder how he'd feel if he couldn't perform as a physician because of palsy? Or spasms.

I think they see too many people with the same old stories, too many times. They forget the same old stories are new stories to us. Hit fifty and they lump you in the "It's Old Age" category. Never mind. I will keep doing what I can until I can't. My little mama told me this night before last after I told her how I was determined to do a little now that I cannot do a lot: Old "I Can't" died, and "I Can" buried him. He-he-he. Another new postcard is on the way, fresh from my lap desk! 

Oh. The postcard? "Docs who wear Crocs?" Docs who wear Crocs are usually pretty cool.

And another thing. JC asked if the proposed injections are temporary. Doc lied and said, "Permanent." Liar! The body absorbs the steroids. Gotta go. I feel another Fat Chick whisper.

"Just a Note" Postcard

Just a Note: I tell you, it can only happen to me. Life is too short to be taken too seriously. I try to take mine, not with a grain of salt, but with a dose of Laughter Salts. You've taken those before, surely? Well, I drew this guy a couple/three nights ago, never knowing a caption would present itself tonight. "The Bottom Line." I gotta tell you: That split in his coat is simply that. A split. I didn't notice the "bottom line" until I tried to lay down a little color, but it is appropriate. No offense intended. The bottom line is damage done, three degenerated discs, a poser of rotator cuff issues, and recommended pain management. 

What kind of life will I have if . . . IF. They're all big ifs. But there's good news. Erin is doing well. Very well! Thank you for all the good thoughts and prayers. Her leave from work was extended several weeks, but she's walking around town. 

Did I mention not being able to read because I cannot bend my neck for very long? Well, maybe I can't read the good books waiting for me, but I can sure read mail. I can hold mail at eye level! Imagine that! JC thinks I get too much mail. He gets no mail at all. We stopped by the post office on our way home from my second doctor's appointment. I had lovely mail from Randall! Yea, Randall! Very lovely. I do like your style. JC insisted we stop by his box. He has a large pob. Well, he opened it. He pulled it out. And, e-m-p-t-y. He bent over, and he blew hard. Five beats it took before I got it. LOL! He blew away dust. Like the mailman told my mama, "You gotta send some mail if you want to get some mail." This is what he told her after she asked him, "This is all you have for me? Junk mail?"

Write on!

P.S. A stack of mail went out today. From me to you. More to follow. I might be degenerating and pinching myself, but I will make mail. I might have to take Pain Management 101, but I will create some mail. JC might have to mail it for me, but I will send some mail. Right on, I will write on! 

P.P.S. There is no bottom line if we keep moving it. Did I hear someone holler, "Second opinions count!

Mail Madness

A postcard to announce an increase in fare: 10¢ to 15¢. 

A postcard. "The Tailor's New Eyes"

Postcard. Every day is mail appreciation day.

You know how Texans like to boast, right? Well, here's a reason: My first 9 X 9 notecard and envelope.

Praying or embarrassed? No matter. It makes a great postcard. Mina used to laugh at my silly self and tell me, "Cade, stop the madness." Sometimes my madness keeps me sane. 

The Cheerleader! "Write on!" She's always in my corner. 

Backtracking 101

An invitation to tea! For me!

She included just about everything, including necessaries. 

Bird of Paradise! Oh, my! I wonder why.

This. This is the sweet I would choose if I were ever stranded on a deserted island. I fell hard for this. I searched for a supplier. It took over a week before I gave up. Houston has a thriving British community. There's a store that stocks everything an expat could long for. I wonder why they didn't have these? They're gently sweet; not too sweet, the way American goodies are. I meant to order a case. I know. Shame on me, but you should taste one before you think so poorly of me. Besides, it's not like I'd have one every day. Anna, you have created a convert. I know the story behind these. *wink* If memory serves me well, this treat began here. 

Sugar cubes?

The seal! So lovely.

I still have this!

And this!

My very own tea set! Invite me to tea and I will bring my own.

All the pretty pretties were wrapped so prettily.

See what I mean? First there was Tea in a Box. A tea in a box. She included everything imaginable that did not require baking or cooking, or freshness. Yes, there were delicious recipes for scones too. Only Anna could do this, and she did, and did it well. Of course I shed a quarter cup of tears. I made a joyful noise. I called my mother (who didn't understand a thing I said), and Erin, and even JC. Oh, Anna.

I had to backtrack so you would understand the importance of the Birthday Party. Just when you think you've gotten it all, she does it again. 

Wait until you see what I got to go with. Such fun! Thank you, Anna, for giving me some of the best memories ever. You are quite clever-clever!

Love,

Limner

P.S. Backtracking is often necessary to finish a good story.

Belated Birthdays Amends

I did it. It took a little while, but I transferred the photos from iPad to MacBook. Here goes: The beautiful box. I still have the paper. Heck, I still have the box! 

See? The order is orderly. It takes longer but it's worth the moments. Imagine my surprise to see "surprise" before my eyes. Talk about being surprised!

My party hat. See the veil? Tres chick, yes?

One for JC. He acts like he owns Sherwood Forest, so why not? It's like getting a feather for his cap. Groan.

For Alex. I'd invite him.

The tiara is mine too! I just replaced the stylish hat. I wore it. I took a photo and sent it to Erin. Myrna can wear my yellow hat with the veil, but she has to give it back. 

Ta-da! You couldn't wipe the grin off my face with a blow torch, if you tried. Skittle flowers! Someone caught a rainbow just for me!

Oh, scat! It was Poppy, the cat!

Oh, my. To me. :)

I don't know why but I turned the box upside down. I do like color. Isn't this picture-perfect tense? 

Wow. Paper. I like paper. I like paper and colors. And stickers. And I have wanderlust. I lust in my heart to wanter some more before I become root bound. 

See what it says? MIX and MATCH! I denied myself the pleasure until I posted my birthday-in-a-box photos. It didn't seem fair to use my gifts before I straightened out the mess I made. Thank you, Anna, for making me mind my Ps and Qs.

Okay, I eventually forgave myself, and used one envelope. I mean, how could I not? Resistance was futile. 

I sat the box on its side for this shot. Remember, I did all this in bed. Sunshine! Light in a box. Delightful. I hope I can do something half as wonderful for someone. 

Whimsey counts. Thank you, Anna. I like bubbles, and ducks, and fairy wings. I like dreams and I like you. If I had a magic wand or two, I would give you one.

Oui! I like labels. Now I have enough to last a while. They never go out of style.

You'll never guess what's inside. I'll show you later. I wear it when I write long letters. So many beautiful colors!

Jacks! I have to look up how they got their name, but I was the Jacks champ in the Curtis Community. I played until I was a senior in high school. Oh, how I loved that red ball and those shiny spinning jacks. My sister and I used to spin ten at once. Little things were so much fun back then. Did you play jacks? Did you bump? *sigh* There's more, but I have to make dinner. Eighteen photos and I'm not done. See all that goodness yet to come? 

Happy Mother's Day

This was created for all the mothers in the world. The drawing was top drawer. I wanted it to be a super shiny gift to you from me. Alas! It wasn't meant to be. My markers would not-could not-did not obey. Nothing blended. My attempts at color would not be amended. So . . . 

So, I tried again. And failed. Oh, well. If we really are judged by our intentions, then you know what was in my my heart, this little bit of ruined art. My true message really is in the details. Happy Mother's Day! 

Love & Big Fat Hug,

from Limner & The Fat Chick©

All Work and No Play

 Have you ever sat on your bed and cleaned all the spaces around you that are in reach? Well I have. I do. I am. I have been cleaning my room since yesterday. JC has taken away one large, heavy Hefty bag. The second bag is half full. It's all paper. At least two young trees worth. All that work means I've earned a little time to play. So I am. This is it. I get to do write a single post and post a single photo.

Drawing is one of the easiest things to do. I remember when I was so afraid of failure I didn't allow myself to create anything. Drawings and painting bumped around inside my head for years. I looked at lot. I examined everything. I watched people. It bothered the men in my life when they "caught" me watching women. Not knowing any better, I'd say, "Well, why not? She's beautiful. Look at her long graceful neck, the way her hips move, and her nose is . . ." I watched children. I took mental notes of babies, puppies, bird poo and . . . Well, everything. 

I was so good in drawing class. I love the human body. My favorite books are art books with page after page of beautiful studies of anatomy. Guess what hangs over my bed.

The print was a gift from a friend when we lived in Colorado. It traveled me across America and back, and has hung for a little over a year. Yes, the blur is intentional. Two other prints belong to the set but you know how it is. So. Even the master made mistakes. I was surprised and disappointed to discover they didn't get everything right either. 

This has to be my most prized book. If I had to leave home in a hurry I would grab this to take with me. I seldom accuse myself of being good at something, but I used to be a great caricaturist. I even earned my way with this skill. Remember the great caricatures that once graced the cover of TV Guide? Well, I met the artist who did them when he visited our school. I sat at his feet. He asked a question no one else knew the answer to. He asked "What's a caricature?" No performance anxiety held me back. My hand shot up and he pointed to me. I didn't choke. I answered. He said I was right. He didn't choose me when he asked for volunteers to have their caricature done. Hurt feeling will lose you a fan every time. He chose students all around me, yet did not choose me. I cooly rose, turned around, and walked away. His loss. Chances are, he's dead, but I still remember the snub. I feel it. The ache is still fresh. Hmm. I really must sit in front of a mirror and do my own. 

Where . . . ? Okay. If I say it all today I won't have anything left for tomorrow. 

Kindness is a wonderful thing. Kindness is awesome therapy. It's the unexpected gentle reminders that people think you matter that provide gentle strokes that heal and encourage a soul to do better. Elle sent me seeds from a Rose of Sharon given to her by her beloved brother. I cherish them. Are you ever so touched by a gift or an act that you cannot deal with it at the moment it happens? No? Yes? It happens to me a lot. I am overwhelmed by goodness and don't know how to respond. I'm getting better at it but . . . And Lucy aka phonelady sent me seeds in the cute little envelope to the right. I will plant anything that will grow! Elle? Phonelady? Y'all know this about me, right? Surely you do, so thank you. Thank you with all the joy and gladness a mystery brings. I planted several of your seeds today, Elle. Phonelady, I hope JC will sow a few of your lovely Partridge Pea seeds this weekend. 

Elle, I put them in here. I think this is so pretty. Do you like it too?

When you can't write, sketch! It doesn't matter so much if you forget the feet. Thus sayeth the Fat Chick. Erin said, "That egg's too big!" I say, "Wait until you see what comes out." Write on. Oh. But first, do y'all ever visit Soulemama? Don't you just love Annabelle's chicks? Heck, they're all fat! I mean, Adelaide! Adelaide's chicks are all fat. Or is it Adele?

Write on.

P.S. All typos and grammatical errors are intentional. Work less. Play more.