Matt Easton in his capacity as an antique swords collector tells the fascinating story behind one of his swords – who its original owner was and why he (probably) requested this non-standard issue blade later in life. To me personally is this one of his best videos.
From Giliell, click for full size!
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Absolutely gorgeous Hyacinth from rq, click for full size!
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More beautiful Tits from Giliell, click for full size!
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©voyager, all rights reserved
The weather the past few days has been dreary. Temperatures have dropped into the teens and there’s been lots of rain. There’s also a lot of mud and it’s been challenging to keep Jack clean. Today, though, we found a nice dry path and we didn’t have to wrestle with cleaning his feet, although we still did our all over check for ticks. That’s really important at this time of year, especially if you and your dog go exploring country roads and forested places. Just take a minute when you get home to feel all over your dog’s coat for ticks. If you find one don’t try to pick it off. There are specialized tweezers available at most pharmacies and vet clinics that ensure the entire tick comes free. If you live in an area where lyme disease is common (we do) you can send the tick off to be tested. Just ask your vet. My brother-in-law’s dog contracted lyme disease last year and he was a very sick pup and needed antibiotics for a month. Our family now takes the risk very seriously and so we also give Jack oral tick prevention.
© C. Ford, all rights reserved.
Okay. I’m going to start with reiterating that what I write here is about my experience with cancer treatment, and my feelings about it, it’s in no way general or applicable for painting with a vague and broad brush.
I am not sorry in the least little bit for not celebrating the first round of chemo being done. I am not sorry for viewing this as a completely non-celebratory event, nor for feeling this way. There was relief, and a fleeting sense of being free. That last one didn’t last long. As usual, the chemo has left me feeling half past dead and seriously dehydrated. So, I’m back again today for IV fluids. I’m only going because Rick refused to let up asking about going in for fluids. These days, he easily recognises the signs of dehydration, so I conceded. Right now, I’d rather deal with being half past dead than going back to 7. (In my hospital, the infusion suite is on the 7th floor.)
It doesn’t feel to me as if I’ve finished; there’s always something dragging you back, and even if I could manage to stay away from 7, appointments and schedules arrive by mail and phone, and of course there’s preparation for the next round of treatment. There’s also the knowledge that you’re going to get completely battered down again, which leaves you with a deep desire to simply stay the fuck away from hospitals altogether.
This all ties back in with the ever relentless positivity business. There’s the bell, which is in infusion/chemo suites all over, you’re supposed to ring it the same number of times as your cycles (in my case, it would be eight), while everyone else in infusion applauds; for me, that’s a hellish notion, and I was more than relieved in managing to slip out quietly. I learned that other infusion/chemo suites have a certificate/diploma thing, which is even worse than the damn bell. Most of us don’t require false encouragement, we all have our own reasons to keep showing up for treatment, even when we are past sick of it, and long to walk away and forget. You experience resignation soon enough in treatment, and simply getting through one phase is just that, nothing more. What most cancer patients are looking toward is the final door, that light at the end of the fuckin’ tunnel, when you get to walk away for real. For other cancer patients, there is no exit door, they’ll be in treatment until they die, and in such cases, it’s really callous and rotten to get all positive and celebratory over a single phase of treatment. Chirpy, trite sentiments do not help in the least, and they give people something empty to say without having to expend any thought on the actual person and their situation. Sometimes, there just isn’t anything to say, and that’s okay. Silences don’t have to be filled every single time, and silence is better than a perky positivity landing in compleat awkwardness.
This is not to say I don’t understand someone having joy over getting through one phase or being happy for me; it’s that I don’t feel that joy myself. I’m still looking at months worth of treatment and pretty much the rest of this year being dominated by cancer. I want my life back, and if I get that, then I’ll celebrate. Quietly.
And now I have to get ready to return to 7.
Bet this “adult colouring book” just made your day. Right? Hello?
Conservative commentator Ed Martin is promoting the new adult coloring book he wrote called, “Can’t Trump This: COVFEFE—Top Trump Tweets.” […]
“We have a president who is responsive to the people and communicating directly to them,” Martin said. “Covfefe became this sort of theme of, in my mind, all the Trump energy and all the messaging around it. There is a serious point in this book … I actually said that the true meaning of covfefe, and I think it’s really important, is love. I know that people look up and they say, ‘Well, are you really going to sit there Ed Martin and say Trump is about love?’ And the answer is yes.”
Martin claimed that conversations Trump has supposedly had about the issue of abortion, his appointment of anti-choice judges, and his efforts to defund Planned Parenthood are all proof that Trump operates based in love.
Oh. That kind of love, the christian kind that’s full of oppression, fear, divisiveness, cruelty, non-acceptance and hatred. Yes, that’s not only very conservative and christian, it’s very Tiny Tyrant, too.
Hugger-MuggerNoun.
1: secrecy
2: confusion, muddle
[Origin: one of a number of similar-sounding reduplicated words in use around this time and meaning much the same thing, including hucker-mucker, which may be the original of the bunch if the root is, as some think, Middle English mukre “to hoard up, conceal.”]
(1529)
Adjective:
1: secret
2: of a confused or disorderly nature: jumbled.
-hugger-mugger adverb.
“No, her book would hold a dark mirror to such conceits. Since Mother Eve’s day, women had whispered of herb lore and crafty potions, the wise woman’s weapons against the injustices of life; a life of ill treatment, the life of a dog. If women were to be kicked into the kitchen they might play it to their advantage, for what was a kitchen but a witch’s brewhouse? Men had no notion of what women whispered to each other, hugger-mugger by the chimney corner; of treaclish syrups and bitter pods, of fat black berries and bulbous roots. – A Taste for Nightshade, Martine Bailey.
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Poisoning the Sick at Jaffa. George Cruikshank, Aquatint coloured, 1814. Subject: Napoleon, Jaffa, Poison, Hospitals, Military Hospitals.
From Giliell, click for full size!
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From rq, click for full size!
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