I'm Marrying Superman

Yes... It's true. I'm marrying Superman. On September 25. How could I say no to someone who has loved me as deeply, as sincerely, as sweetly, and as completely has he has loved me? I cannot. My family and friends will agree I'm making a wonderful choice. He is a Super Hero to all who meet him.

In preparation for the BiG event we've been doing some remodeling at The Fortress. (Superman's abode) The first thing we did was to redo his beautiful sun room and turn it into my studio. I'm sitting here now watching the sun's last wisps of warmth settle into the west through some gigantic windows. The view is relaxing, lush, private and serene. This is a dream come true in every way. [before and after pics coming soon]

I have Wonder Dog sleeping at my feet and Opie Taylor (errrrr I meant to say Opie Wan Kenobe) is watching the last few birds eating from the Fortress bird feeder. With that sweet note... I'll say, "Goodnight, dear ones..."

The Story Behind This Time Tomorrow

I'm sure you've all noticed my new header. Superman encouraged me to use this piece of art I drew, and painted a few months ago as my header. I reluctantly agreed to tear it out of my art journal and scan it to see if I liked it. To my surprise, I did like it. I really, really liked it. The only thing missing was the cat, Opie Taylor, who sports the monkey pants on this blog. That sketch came about in under 15 minutes from start to finish. If all of life could be that easy...

Some of you noticed I put "This Time Tomorrow" back on as my blog title. What I'm not sure of is if I told you why I selected "This Time Tomorrow" as my blog title in the first place.

I've played a game with myself for as long as I can remember called this time tomorrow. It helps me get through upcoming things that are difficult, and keeps the ants in my pants from eating me alive when I'm anticipating something fun in my future that hasn't happened yet. Like the time I was asked to open for singer-song writer, Wayne Watson, in 1989 at a concert in Oxnard, CA, a Dove and Grammy award winner. I was so honored, and excited to be the opening singer for one of my favorite Christian singers, I could hardly breathe, eat, sleep or think. I played the game "This Time Tomorrow" with myself so I could survive the weeks waiting for the concert to arrive without popping into a kazillion peices.

Wayne Watson, me, and Scott Alan DJ at KDAR in Oxnard, CA
big smile, big shoulder pads & big hair... love the 80's

But enough about big hair, and stuff. Here's how the game goes....

If there was a test at school that I dreaded, I'd think about the day and time of the test, then I'd say to myself, "This time next Friday, I'll be taking the math test." This would give me the mental time--mental because I rarely, IF ever, cracked a book for a math test--to psych myself up for the test. It's like saying, "OK I have 6 more days to worry about that or not worry about it." But I'd always visualize myself in the situation whether it was 6 days away, or this time tomorrow. It gave me some time to feel it before I got there.

I once used the game to help me heal after having an abortion. I sank into a deep depression afterward because I felt I didn't have a choice in the matter. I wrote a story about my horrible ordeal with the "this time tomorrow" theme. In my short story I dread the upcoming scheduled event, and acknowledge my fear, and remorse, by counting down the days, hours, and minutes before the abortion by playing the game, "This time tomorrow".

I approach the trip to the clinic with a new inner strength because I realize I have an alternative choice. I begin to feel strong, and am willing to voice what "I want to do"--not what I felt someone else wanted me to do. At the last minute, I get up off the table, and walk away without having the abortion. My baby is safe, and so am I. I awaken later to discover I only dreamed I had walked away while I was under the anesthesia having the abortion. Somehow this comforts me because I know in my heart, and spirit, I would have done it differently had the choices been presented to me in another way. Writing about this with the theme of this time tomorrow as the story's base allowed me to heal, and in time, forgive myself. It's a mental game I use to get me through something I dread, or to remind me in 24 hours I can open the gifts under the Christmas tree.

"This time tomorrow I will be at the clinic sitting in the waiting room."

"This time tomorrow I'll be singing in front of thousands of people on the same stage with Wayne Watson."

"This time tomorrow I'll be boarding the plane to Italy."

"This time tomorrow I'll be getting a tooth pulled."

"This time tomorrow I'll be one day closer to being healed from PTSD."

When I decided to start blogging about having PTSD, I pondered a title. I knew writing had helped me in the past to heal from so many things, and suddenly "This Time Tomorrow" popped into my head. That theme had helped me heal before maybe it could now some 30 years later. I realized each day I work through this it brings me closer to this time tomorrow when I'll be totally healed, whole and helping others heal from PTSD, too.

Some of you will get this silly game I play, and some of you will shake your heads and mumble, "HUH?" Humor me--OK? I'm also the one who goes on AND on about monkey pants. Some of you get the concept of monkey pants, too, and some of you don't. Monkey pants are my unique way of reminding myself to keep an attitude of silliness, to keep laughing at myself, and remain childlike in the way I look at life. Silly is good. It helps my serious, fearful heart remember to lighten up. I need my monkey pants on so I will keep on keeping on. Simple as that.

Thank you, Dylan, for always being there with me, monkey pants on, and ready to face whatever this time tomorrow brings us. Thank you, Superman, for believing in me today or this time tomorrow or for as long as it takes for me to get well.

Thank you bloggy friends for putting up with all my monkey shines... Oh, and will you all please let Opie Taylor know the stripes and polka dots DO NOT make his butt look big. He wanted stars on his monkey pants.... I can fix that, too. This time tomorrow...

True Love

Look At This…: loyal little bird

The photographs you are about to see show how a very determined male bird tries to save his female mate that has been seriously injured.
Here the female bird is injured and her condition is not good.
The male bird brings her food and attends to her with love and compassion.
Although he tries to help her, she is too badly injured and dies.
He is shocked over her death and tries desperately to bring her back to life, trying to pull her up and make her move.
He finally realizes that his sweetheart has passed away and will never come back to him, and brokenhearted - he cries over his lost love.
He stands by her side, calling and crying for help. He is devastated by her death.
Finally realizing that she will never return to him, he stands beside her lifeless body with great sadness and sorrow, unable to leave her side.
The photos of these two birds are said to have been taken in the Republic of the Ukraine. This male bird was bound and determined to save his female mate. The photographer sold these pictures for a small price to one of the most famous newspapers in France. All the copies of that newspaper were sold out on the day they published these photos.

I borrowed this from a site listed below. It appears many people have re-posted this. I can see why. [reaches for a tissue, for the 12th time]

http://qomaspeakup.tumblr.com/post/241000759/eleasha-drspencerreid

Superman loves me just like this...

without a doubt... he does.

I am so blessed.

I'm Sassing Up the Table, Mable

Remember the table I was painting for Superman? (see post on 6/15/09 )









Top of table after painting slats.













Sides with base coat of decorative paint and final view of table after the stain is applied.








The late afternoon sunlight enhances the mood, and the stain softens the colors with warmth.


























And having Wonder Dog give you a smile is the perfect cap on the day.