Last year, in 3 seasons, I had lost 40 lbs. In 3 more seasons, after my hernia presented, surgery followed, and now, finishing rehab/resting/healing, all 40 came back. I finally started to get back on the path yesterday and am not really so amazed, just pissed off, that it was so very hard that I felt I was treading water in my own sweat. The first 10 minutes, it was so hard not to stop. I only intended to do 10 minutes on, 10 minutes rest, and another final 10 minutes back on the treadmill, but at the last minute, I hung in at a slower pace and was able to put in a 20 minute session. Man! It was tough stuff, and I know that the music in my ipod ears gets the main credit for keeping me going. So, that totals a 30 minute work session, roughly 190 calories and 1 1/4 miles. Right now, I am working up the stamina to better today than yesterday. Aren't we all?

My angel sister, Jan and I visited my mother yesterday and were so happy to find her laughing and singing after many so visits lately, where these gifts were found to be sadly lacking.

It is such a deceptive disease, this Alzheimer's/Dementia. Doubtless, the previous recent sad visits were dimmed by her bout with aspiration pneumonia, and it was premature of me to think that she had already descended into the constant silent sleep that her future inevitably holds. She appears to be happily on the mend. Each day has different treasures to offer, and to try to dictate what the day should hold as opposed to accepting and cherishing things as they are remains an understandable error on my part.

The staff found my mother in bed that morning with an empty box of chocolates that some Mother's Day meaning-well-wisher had taken to her room earlier in the week. We know not who brought them, but are forced to spread the news that goodies in mass should not be provided to someone whose judgment remains as impaired as my mother's. Her sugar count was four times of what her usual amount was, and the nurses let us know in no uncertain terms how displeased the professionals felt about the situation.

Perhaps her happy demeanor was a result of her sugar buzz, and perhaps it was just an especially good day. Regardless, I will take what I can get, when I can get it. It was a beautiful Spring day, and my mother's mood matched it. Of course, she had no appetite for lunch... two of us trying to cajole her into eating something healthy for an hour was all in vain. And, as always, she was extremely tired and longed to go back to bed after her unsuccessful luncheon, and we, of course, complied with her wishes. They work very hard to try and please my mother and the lot of us who try to double check her care at this Senior Home- Silver Oaks. I really think that we have the best care available going for her there, and the staff appears to genuinely care. I often wonder if I will be so lucky when my time comes, and the sheer mass of baby-boomers leads me to think, probably not. But I surely will not waste today worrying about tomorrow.

After we put Mom down for her afternoon nap, Jan & I proceeded to Applebee's for a well-deserved lunch of our own while we could still afford it. I fear the worst for our economy's future and want to gather happy memories while I may. Oriental Chicken Salad will always be my favorite-nothing else for the price, even looks appealing.

Gas was at $3.89 a gallon, and I packed all I could into my truck, rightfully fearing the four dollar plus a gallon in our near future. I took no scenic routes or detours for visiting friends on the way home-though it would have been a primo day to do just that...only the barest of necessary travels these days. Sadly, my friends all live off the beaten path and I feel positive that such a picture perfect Friday would require at lest a beer, and as my drinking days are over, we just don't have all that much in common anymore. And as I really see no end to our economic status in sight when I come home to view the evening news to see foreign oil practically spit in the face of a President whose days of diplomacy seem long gone, if they ever were.

I love my dogs so much it hurts my wallet. We took them for their annual inoculations last week and told the Veterinarian that we could not afford the Senior Wellness exams that they annually insist upon. Last year, the bill was over $1,000 to tell me that my seemingly healthy dogs were just that-healthy. This year, after putting our foot down and hearing the tests the Doctor felt to be absolutely necessary (NSAID, Thyroid, Urinary Tract on one) out of three-we got out of the office with a $750+ bill. I made it clear that I was out of work, out of surgery and not able to afford the Cadillacs of Canine Health Care, and still came away with 3 Audi's-(what I have heard referenced as a poor man's Mercedes repeatedly in my past). I hear of many pet owners abandoning their pets in this economy. But look at those faces, feel that love-I could never do that. It is unfortunate though that things have come to this-when these 3 pups go th Heaven, Bubba has advised that we will no longer be able to afford the luxury of a pooch, and, sadly, I agree. Until then, we have cut back (but not cut out) on their daily tuna fish and Iam's Weight Control, and doubled up on the free love while we may. And with that-they have come to tell me that it is time for their (shhhhhh)ice cream...

The winds are flirting with 60 miles an hour. It is all suddenly slip-sliding so fast, once again I think fondly of Mom, and how she used to be. Them, I sadly sigh for how she is now. Her singing has stopped. She had a choking incident recently, and subsequently, a pneumonia. She remains now a cranky, feverish child-like adult... pouting, impatient, sleepy and insistent. Declining offers of music, happy at our initial appearance, but so soon, sullen and tired of the disruption of the routine she clings onto.. If we cannot put her to bed, she has little use for us. Once she is in bed, again, we only bother her by staying, thus keeping her awake. She pursues the escape of sleep almost every waking moment. Food, conversation, and thought only severe as irritants. Where did my bright, sassy,intelligent mother go? Who is this sad and angry, tired child inhabiting her body, and can the real mom ever come back, even for a bit?

I am not a mother. I had all the signs in my youth of one day being a wonderful mother, but I made many foolish choices and children, have since, eluded me.

Thus the rain on this Hallmark Holiday fits my bill, leaving me wistful, and wishing for more, accepting what is, as best I can.

My politics, faith , my view of the world is my own and not up for debate. My music, my life style, my choices in life-even my mistakes are my own, and I have no need to have others attempt to dictate their views unto mine, not mine to theirs. I am what I am. The only person that I can change is myself-and I am the only person that I wish to change. It took a long time to learn to love myself-something that I will jealously guard from all of those who fail to recognize my right to do so. I have been places and done things that no other human being has done-I am unique, as is my take on the world. I have nothing that I need to prove to anyone, and I am learning more and in depth every day. Try to bleed this heart, only if you dare!

I awoke with yet another head banger. My headaches are more than enough of the cross that I have to bear. They rule my life in reality-like no far off politician, no lofty ideals-the bottom line is when I am crippled by pain, nothing else really matters.

I breathe deep, and I cannot rise above it, so I try to go with it. Often I think that the deep breathing techniques that I have been taught & re-taught are just something to get my mind off the pain. I know that increasing my oxygen expands and re-aligns my blood vessels and theoretically, the constricted blood vessel that is my headache will assume it's more natural, expanded pain free form-but I still think that a lot of the cure mind over what matters.

I am often asked the reason that I have headaches as if there was some method in this madness. There does not have to be an underlying reason-it just is, and there is no denying it. Like M.S., like Fibromyalgia, like any affliction, it just is. No one can tell me that it is not very real pain. Not out loud, to me anyway.

I'd like to write more, but do not think that I am helping myself by chasing these tiny letters across the computer screen. Yep, I best break this off, for now & concentrate on deep breathing and going to a Pacific Isle in my mind...

I went to my hairdresser yesterday & bemoaned the fact that when I voiced my plan to vote for Obama at Bubba's grandkid's birthday party that I was greeted with cries of protest. His color means nothing to me, but they were all so eager to point out that it means everything to him. Apparently, it meant a lot to my hairdresser as well. My hair has not been this short in decades. She fumed the whole time-"But Cher, you're white-why wouldn't you want a white president?" Maybe because of the shame and blunders of the majority of the past white presidents, I dunno! Oh man-did she know how she sounded?

I don't care what color the best candidate is-but I seem to be in the minority. I really believe that she cut my hair so short out of smoldering anger, "God, Cher! The whole idea is to beat McCain! A black man will never beat McCain!" she growled, taking a razor for the first time ever to the back of my neck. Yeow! If I expected a mature unbiased conversation, I was sadly mistaken, and this was the wrong place to look for one. This young tatooed wanna be hippie chick showed her true colors & gave me yet another sad glimpse of where in this wonderful country that I haver decided to settle down. The Bible Belt is tough-mired in their refusal to see beyond black and white in so many issues. She actually believes Obama to be a sleeper terrorist, plotting the doom of America as his middle name is Hussein. This is otherwise an intelligent woman. My middle name is Gail-my father's middle name spelled differently-what deep, dark secret does that indicate that I am holding? I dunno-is this how and why everybody else thinks and Mokie Joe & I dwell in some lunatic fringe? I live here-I know that the majority of folks center thier lives around church and hunting-so what? What-is that they are pissed at being pegged as such by a black man and a Hillary-hungry press...

Lucky for me, I am extremely adaptable to my environment. I like my haircut, though I am still trying to learn to keep my opinions to myself. If it takes Hillary to beat McCain, so be it. If this is my first and last politically oriented blog, so be it. And I will leave politics and religion to each their own and shut the luck up about my open mind. Life is too short for all of this drama. As if the president truly wielded any real power...but I surely do not want to go there. Not in public anyway.