20 days of silence

I can't believe it's been 20 days since my last blog entry.  Blogging, to me, is similar to painting in that I have to be in the right mood and feel positive about the subject of my painting or else I simply don't paint.  It's not that I can't or won't, but I just don't.  I guess I haven't been in the right mood or frame of mind these past few weeks to blog, which indicates to me that blogging is more emotionally based that I realized.  Anyway, a lot has transpired since my last entry.

I'm in Birmingham, AL as I write this.  I came down for Memorial Day weekend to help out after Mom had partial hip replacement surgery last Wednesday.  Bill spent the weekend down at the lake with Nate and his friends, so I'm glad I could come to be with Mom in the hospital and help when she was discharged yesterday.  She's already walking well with the help of her rolling walker.  Dad and I just watched the video that explains how to give Ouma her daily shot to prevent blood clots, and he agreed to give her the daily injection in .  Sandy declined the opportunity to do the sticking; I think she wants to stay on Ouma's good side! 
Before we knew about the fractured hip we'd heard from the Oncologist here in B'ham that Mom's cancer is back, and the initial prognosis was not very positive.  More tests need to be done, but since she's decided not to go through chemotherapy again it doesn't really matter.  God is in control, whether Ouma has a year to live or many more years.  A prognosis is an educated guess at best, and it doesn't take God's power and sovereignty into account.  She is at peace regardless of the outcome because, as Mom says, "The joy of the Lord is my strength".



On the way back from the hospital we stopped to fill Mom's prescriptions at Walgreens.  While we waited in the car as Dad picked up the drugs, this kid walked by - his pants barely holding on around his thighs.  I don't get it; why not just walk around in your red boxer shorts?  We've gone from cool baggy, to butt cracks, to the ridiculous now.  He ran a few yards right after I took this picture... well, more of a waddle than a run, which is the only way he could keep his pants on.  I'm sure the babes find the boxers SUCH a turn-on!

I came upon an accident a few days ago at the bottom of Warkhawk Dr.  Apparently the driver had a carload of stuff he was moving, and when he came around the last corner (I assume too fast) everything piled in the passenger seat fell over onto him - distracting him enough that he drifted off the left side of the road, over the side and into a large pine tree.  It's a miracle that he didn't roll the car all the way to the bottom. The incline is much steeper than it looks from the pictures, and there's nothing that would have stopped him until he reached the road down below.  The car was being held onto the slope by the tree that stopped his forward momentum, and I don't know why the car didn't roll onto him when he got out of the driver's seat on the down-slope side.  Amazing.  His only injuries were a bloody nose and mouth - the inevitable consequence of having your life saved by a bag of air exploding through the steering wheel and into your face.





I'm working on a new painting, this one from a photograph I took two years ago.  It's larger than I normally paint - I think this one's 24 x 30.  I took several of my pieces to a new gallery in Evergreen a couple of weeks ago, and once more they declined to display my work - something about it not being a good "fit" for their gallery.  I think this is the 4th gallery I've tried unsuccessfully to get into.  Ironically, that same week I sold an original painting to someone in the church who wanted it as a surprise father's day gift for her husband.  I told her afterwards how her purchase had encouraged me after being rejected by the gallery.  I would love to display my work publicly, but either way I need to keep painting because it's therapeutic for me.