The sap is rising and so are my spirits. Warmer weather and longer days have certainly helped. I'm able to sit out on the porch most afternoons and just listen to the birds twitter and have a few minutes peace before going down the rabbit hole, yet again.

Living with a person with dementia plays with your head, you begin to doubt you own sanity. Some of it can be quite amusing, when it's not you that it is happening to.

Long story, longer ....

I went out Saturday with a friend to do a little fishing. She and I are both Stampin' Up! demonstrators and need new customers, hence the fishing expedition. There is a site on-line that connects people of like interest and after signing up, we discovered that there was a scrapbook event in New Deal (Cottontown). Anyway, Lester made chicken salad for me to take, and had it all dolled up, as he always does, salad bowl lined w/lettuce leaves, ice inside, smaller bowl on top of the ice with the chicken salad in it. Got home with all of my junk, Les takes the chicken salad , scoops it into a ziplock bowl, puts that away and sets the lettuce lined bowl to the side, next to the compost bucket. We went to our daughter's for the evening, got home, the bowl w/ the lettuce is in the fridge. He put it back, for the compost, later,found it in the fridge again. He just looked at me, quizzikly, and I said "Make's you doubt you sanity, huh?"

Had to go to the funeral home last evening, got Mitz all taken care of, bathed, meds taken, supper fixed. We had discussed the person who had passed away at length more than once throughout the day. Got dressed, told her goodbye, and she says, "Oh, are you going out?"

For a split second, you really wonder if you've been talking to yourself. Try really hard not to

let her see the confusion on your face and just answer as though it has not been said twenty times before.

Things to do in while in the rabbit hole: Since I have to be home so much, I'm working on ways to earn money from home. Due to Mitzi and automobile issues, I've not been able to do the home shows that I had been doing for a while now. There is a web site called Etsy.com that sells handmade items and I've signed up to have an on-line store. I'm trying to name said store, and since I will be selling an assortment of handmade items, no one specific craft, I'm having difficulty finding an all encompassing name for the site. Any ideas?

"INTER-TRIBAL"

I mention in my profile that I have the honor of being friends with some truly amazing women. One of those women is Pamela Steele. If you know me, it the one friend I refer to as "you know, the friend I went to see in Oregon". She is one of my oldest friends and years have made her my dearest. There has always been an almost telepathic link between us, you know, that friend that always calls just when you need them. She for me and I for her.

I went to see Pam in the summer of 2000 (I think) it was pre 9-11 and pre-cancer. I went during July because she as involved in the Nez-Perce Indian homecoming powwow, called Tamkaliks. She and I registered the dancers. I saw the most amazing faces, faces from the past, colorful costumes and head dresses , heard the chants, the drums and tinkling of the little bells on their clothing when they walked past, and the sheer joy on the faces of the oldest during their dance. The entire thing was hypnotizing, an out of body experience. We stayed way into the night and once we went home, opened the windows so that we could still hear the drums and chants. I feel asleep listening to sounds of the past, wondering what it was like when these sounds were the norm rather than an event, understanding that while I was enchanted by them now, how they certainly could have created fear in a settler's heart.

I failed to mention that Pam is a writer, a poet. PUBLISHED !
Her first book is titled "Paper Bird"

One of my favorite pass times, when visiting with Pam is just closing my eyes and having her read to me.

As I was reading "Paper Bird" I realized that Pam had been listening to those same drums, and was able to put on paper, what I felt.

INTER-TRIBAL

The sound of powwow drums
deflected off the face of the hill
puses the curves of river
and enters the deep pocket of her sleep.
A wave of chant lifts the edge of the curtain,
trailing three sharp beats, then silent.

She sits straight up in bed, then stands,
waking tribes of blood cells, feels
the keen stretch of skin over bone.
She lifts a heel, frames her hips
with her palms, and when the next
beats enter the veil of curtain, she steps
into a Bedouin shimmy, and her feet
begin to remember what it is
they've been trying to remember.

-Pamela Steele/Paper Bird

Keeping me on my toes

I'm a rooster, not as in the chicken type, but of the sundown type. There comes a time of day, earlier and earlier all of the time, that I want to get in my chair , knit or read until my body says that it is ready to sleep. I'm ready to roost ! Don't need conversation, don't need to entertained, just want to be.

Some nights, however, do not go like that. Last night I was keeping Rachel's three children plus little Noah and everything was going so well, everyone was happy, cooperating, relaxed, watching a movie, baby playing, winding down for the night, just being sweet. Becca came and got him, it was all still good... movie was really cute and then it was 8:30. I didn't know that there was an order in which teeth were brushed. Wes doesn't usually go first, so I was told repeatedly, Grandmama's rules, "go anyway", not going to bed, "quess again", having a tantrum, "ok, but give me your glasses", I hope you are never the baby sitter again , to which I replied "ME,TOO!"

Never heard a peep out of the girls (wonder why) then the "other" Wesley came out of his room and said "Goodnight, grandmama, I love you" WHAT?

Explanation

I have been wanting to blog for awhile now, and have finally taken the plunge.
I enjoy the blogs of many of my daughters friends, and even those of folks that I don't know.

Choosing a name for this creation has been a bit like choosing a name for a new baby. It had to express some feeling, it had to mean something.

I was talking with my daughter, Rachel last night about some of the things going on in our home and said "I feel like Alice in Wonderland" She said there's your title "down the rabbit hole.
That's why I have smart children !

After pondering the title I realize that I have been in and out of this rabbit hole many times, you know what I mean, the times when you look around yourself, even though you know that you are you and you are where you are supposed to be and still say "WHAT ?"

My most recent trip into the rabbit hole began last summer when my mother-in-law landed in the hospital and on her next to the last day there her doctor came in and told her she could not go home alone and could not drive anymore, and that he would like to try to get her in a nursing home, at least for physical theraphy. My husband, Lester, his brother, Don and the two spouses, one being me, all voted that she could come home with us, while all the paper shuffling was being done to go to the "rehab" center. That took two weeks. Two weeks of meds and meals on time, vitals being monitored, etc. We took her, they didn't keep her... and she is still in our home and depending on who you ask and when you ask, one of us has dementia. Hence the "Rabbit Hole" because most days I pretty sure it is me !

I don't know what I plan on doing with this thing. I'll probably just ramble. I love quotes from books that make you say "Yeah, that's it exactly !, I love creating pretty things, and I love the antics of my children and grandchildren. I'm pretty sure, all will included.