Fairy gardens plus!

Love of the "magikal" is in my heart, obviously.
Despite the loss of my beloved son on Fab 5th of this year I can still see and feel the magic.
I'm making Fairy Gardens these days and tiny little miniatures to go in them.
I've joined the Bizzbin.com community also, with a store called, of course, Not So Bizarre Bazaar which is also mine on Facebook and eBay, although I seldom use the latter.
I did a brief stint as an ebook editor, which was wonderful. Wouldn't mind doing more but what happens, happens.
Check out Tracy T. Thurman's Outlaw Brand series on Amazon. My name as editor of three may still be on them. My hint to anyone doing editing? Edit TWICE. You won't catch everything the first time and you might tick off your author(s). Much improved isn't enough. It has to be as close to perfect as a  human can get it.
So, on with the show!
Here are some of my recent creations:

Now its life after JD AND Gurtch

I've had a very hard time reaching this blog. I think part of that is because I have another gmail address and another similar blog on Blogger.
But I'm here.
Two months and a bit after losing my youngest son to pancreatic cancer and with help from my Sister-in-law, Tracy, I got here, moved back to my home area in Oklahoma, with ALL my STUFF.
My life would have been very different had I been forced to abandon my supplies and tools. I'll never be able to thank Tracy enough after all my son's friends abandoned me when he died.
Now I'm here and since Feb 21 I have been setting up my life working in a rented mobile home.
I've edited my first e-book as a professional, am in the process of building a business as a teacher of wire and jewelry arts and I've begun three books to be published this year.
It is a new life indeed!
I hope I will be able to get back to those of you who have read my past blog posts.
For now, the adventure has only begun.
OH, and BTW I cannot see or approve your comments.
That is irritating.

Long time no blog...

Its been a while. Guess I've been saying most of what I have to say on Facebook and in emails, huh?
I think JD would be proud. I'm finally, FINALLY, learning what I need to know and doing what I need to do to actually make my jewelry making into a genuine business.
I hope to even have to pay taxes this year!
Watch this space and watch for my new BLOG!

We The People

In honor of JD I post this here!

Blog killer

For me Facebook has become my "blog killer". I've been very "vocal" there and since I'm there a lot for personal and business reasons I've not had a lot left "unsaid" to post here.

BUT now and again there is something to be said.

I've been undergoing a lot of changes. For a few months my physical condition has been deteriorating with more pain, less energy and just feeling like I'm not so much ME as I was.

Sure, I miss JD. I miss him a LOT. He was an incredible (although like us all somewhat flawed) person. Less flawed than most in my humble opinion.
I am pretty content with my life here in Texas with my son but not with my condition so I'm working to change that.

Many of you may know that I'm a Scientologist, have been for closing in on 40 years now. Whatever that may mean to you it simply means to me that I am intent on becoming the best ME I can be despite life's "slings and arrows". It also means I want for you to be the best and happiest YOU possible. Don't want to change you, just help you free yourself from a few of your problems. But you need to ask. I'm not out looking. I've got better things to do that go looking for problems to solve.

I'm studying the new basics books that came out a few years back. I'd been rather apathetic about that but the study is really helping. I'm waking up a bit. A bit less lethargic in many areas, a bit more alert, a bit more energetic, a bit more me.

Because of that I decided to do some more research. Hmmmmm, it may be that I do NOT have fibromyalgia... More intense study has alerted me to the fact that my gluten sensitivity (yeah, already knew and was pretty much ignoring it) may be the major cause of everything that is not as it should be!!! Brain fog, muscle aches, chicken skin, apathy, poor or excessive sleeping, pain when walking (thus "preventing" me from exercising), swelling in my entire body, digestive issues are likely all from gluten. As of yesterday I've gone gluten free. I don't think I am SO sensitive I need to worry about trace amounts (rice and corn products processed in same plants with wheat products) but just the actual items themselves.

For the next month I'm not going to worry about weight issues or other things I should probably be handling but I will be concentrating on the gluten and increasing exercise (plus staying on my vitamin regimen which is going well).

Since I also have some destash supplies sales on-going plus have found a new monthly (and small) jewelry sales venue (good way to get my feet wet again) plus am continuing my on-going efforts to finish the last bits of work shop (my living room!) organization I won't be "haunting" this blog but will return and report in a few weeks how things are going.

Who knows? I might even get things going well enough to finally get Loretta's books converted to e-books! We shall see. I'm not going to beat myself up about it. Gradients. Its all about gradients. First this before I worry about that!

My take on uber radical politics and liberalism

If anyone wonders why I'd blog this subject on a blog that began as a widow's journey, well, JD had a huge hand in educating me (and I him) on many subjects. This is one that was very important to both of us.
I learned quite some time ago that arguing with someone who has a difference of opinion-especially drunks and liberals, is a waste of breath.
Actually I feel sorry for them. I feel sorry for the drugged out fool with the idea that guns are for killing innocents also. That does not mean I wouldn't take every opportunity to shoot him down to prevent the death or injury of innocents.
When arguing with a liberal or other uber radical (forget arguing with a drunk-nothing to be done there) you cannot use reasoned arguments. They are indoctrinated. At some point we've all accepted as "truth" a concept, an idea that we no longer THINK with on that subject. We simply "know", whether what we know has any relationship to reality or not. Each one of these acceptances without reason makes us a bit less sane.
I'm still finding them and I consider myself to be, for the most part, a rational thinker.
What one needs to do in place of argument is question!!!
Where did you get that information?
Who said it?
What proof is there?
Why would that make things better? How do you KNOW that? Are there actual reliable statistics with studies to back them up?
Well, you get the idea.
We have to become the two year old. WHY???? And "because" or "I just know" isn't an acceptable answer.
If or when the other person in the argument begins name calling you know you're dealing with someone who has no intention of thinking anything through. Leave it. Might as well try to push a 1000 lb boulder up hill without the use of heavy equipment. Waste of time.
You do stand a chance of reaching someone who wants to be a good thinker. Who wants to be right.
They may be operating on "we must help others" without a qualifier. They may have other implanted ideas they've never looked at. If you can get anyone to look you may have saved them.
Consider the story of the congress woman (I'm going from memory of a news story I read a long time back) who was anti-gun until faced, unarmed, with an armed criminal. THIS broke through for that person. Reality came in, thankfully without the bang.
I'm hoping this helped even one person get one other person to reason. If it did, then it was absolutely worth writing and sharing.

The Evolution continues

As my life becomes more and more "MY life" and "our life" recedes into a beloved past I am blogging less and less. I still have a lot to say but I say most of it on Facebook these days.
To any of my readers who do not yet know, I've moved to Texas and now share living space and expenses with my youngest son. We do pretty well together as both of us know how to entertain ourselves and actually do so. We provide each other with JUST ENOUGH company.
We both cook, we both clean, although as MOM, I do tend to do a bit more of it. Its a girl thing maybe.
My influences on my art in making jewelry are changing. My ART is changing although I still revert to the basics often. I'm happy with this.
Last night I dreamed JD. Even in the dream I knew he was gone but I so much enjoyed the "visit". He was thinner and happy. I was happy for him and OK with myself and my own feelings. Its a journey I'll never finish, being without him instead of being with him, but its a journey I can make.
Today I took steps to at least semi-reconcile with my step-daughter. Her children are as close to grandchildren as I'm likely to have and I do love her. We've decided to let our disagreement be in the past, not speak of it and go on from now as friends. This too I am happy with. I have missed her. She was my baby for a lot of years.
And that, for now, is that.

Peripatetic pensive ponderings

For some days now my mind has returned to this much neglected blog. There is no really special thing I want to say but rather many special things fluttering through this dragonfly mind of mine. 

On relationships, especially the man/woman enduring thing:
The truly great relationships are not made of the mythical perfect people. Mine was started by a chance meeting, fostered by impluse and a feeling of "must know this person. It grew through shared experience, shared values, communication and learned trust. 
Unlike Topsy it didn't just grow but was rather built, layer by layer, day by day, week by week, month by month and year by year. 
It was presenting new things to each other and watching them be taken up with enthusiasm. It was respect for "otherness" and a fostering of that which was beautiful and creative. It was allowing the other to BE, not be directed or controlled. It was so many things, became so rich and fulfilling that I do not believe I have time nor energy left to even try for something similar. Nor do I have a need.
We learned to take time for ourselves and to value that as much as we valued time together. We learned that making sure the other had what was needed or wanted did not have to mean we, as individuals, had to sacrifice. We did compromise. We did fail to keep things smooth sometimes. We were never perfect. But we were strong in our love and thus strengthened each other as people.

On Privacy:
We each have, at our core, some area or thoughts or even actions that are ours alone, to be shared never or almost never. That's really OK as I see it. Beyond that core we have opinions, beliefs, thoughts, actions and creations that we share. I'm a prolific sharer although some are not.
Its not something to be forced or impelled. 
I love Facebook, not because its perfect but because its a platform for sharing. I'd probably not be there so much if I weren't also using it as a selling venue (the best one I've ever had!) for my art. 

On Art:
I call my creations art, although many have been less "art" than "craft" in the past. Now there is nothing at all wrong with CRAFT!!! It is vital and to be respected. But one can craft a fine wooden chair that will become a family heirloom or one can create an art piece chair. They are similar but not identical by any means. 
The comparison might also be made that I'm crafting this blog but it does not rise to the level of Heinlien's, Hubbard's, McAffrey's, Norton's, Dicken's or Koontz's works! Those are verbal art!
Whether or not I will financially succeed in my own newer endeavors has yet to be seen but I am tired, tired, tired of making what I "think" will sell, making what others are selling (or similar to) or making things for a season or a show. 
My work is becoming ART because I am now working only to inspiration with some side trips to custom orders. 

On Family:
Wow. There is a lot to say about family! I am and have been delighted that my Sis, in her later life, has finally found a mate. She's been married before but, as I did, made mistakes in the choosing. 
She has fairly recently brought into the family a person who doesn't really GET how awesome he is. Perfect? Oh, heaven's no. As mentioned before perfection just ISN'T possible. But good? rewarding? fulfilling? Yes to all!!! They are building as JD and I built. 
My sons are another Wow! While as a Mom I could wish that they could experience what I had with JD I still see that they have surrounded themselves with people who love and respect them. They have goals, they have personalities I truly admire. I LIKE my sons. 
Even my Bro who has had problems seems to be taking hold of life and living better for himself. I'm proud of that. 
Many know that after JD's death I stayed in our home for a while but it was just too far from those I love and it was lonely. Then I went to stay with Sis while looking for a home to buy near her and ended up living with her and her sweetie. That was a lovely time which has just ended as it became more important to share time and living space (not to mention expenses) with my youngest son.
We're into month two and this living experience is better than I had hoped.  We respect each other's spaces. I have, of course, taken over more than 3/4 of what you'd expect to be the communal space (with son's full good wishes) for my work and supplies and selling area. He has the largest bedroom and we share the kitchen. 
At times meals are catch as catch can. At times I cook. At times he cooks. We both do laundry, dishes etc. Since I work from home I do the majority of general cleaning a bit at a time. Its all good. Especially good are the surprise hugs, surprise shoulder rubs and shared laughter. So far I've done the majority of the grocery shopping but that will be changing. My basic income will just cover rent and utilities. He's going to be buying the groceries but, hopefully, we'll be shopping together!
Well! Thank you, those of you who have read this! It has helped me a lot getting it all said. In the future I will try to be less on Facebook and more here with my OH-SO-Valuable Insights. (laughing)

Our Son's tribute to JD

No blog about my widowhood could possibly be complete if it doesn't contain this tribute Matt wrote about JD.

A Tribute to My Father
by Matt Converse on Saturday, November 7, 2009 at 11:36am

J.D. Willson – passed from this life on Friday, October 23 around 6pm. He is survived by his wife, Casey Willson, his daughters Tammy, Tonya, and Christina and two step-sons, Gurtch and myself. He was born in 1943. These are the dry recitation of facts that fail entirely to encapsulate the the elemental phenomenon that was my father. He was irrepressible, irresistible and incredible.

He met my mom in 1980; they were nigh-inseparable from that day on. If you could ask a 10 year old boy to define all the things he wanted in a father, once you got past “Fireman!” or “Astronaut!” you would almost certainly find he had listed every quality my dad displayed and embodied. He taught me how to throw a punch, catch a fish with a spear, run a trout/cat line, gut and clean a deer. He taught me how to plant and grow a garden. He taught me to hold my liquor, to shoot pool in dive bars, and how to approach women. Most of all, he made my mother happy.

He was full of stories. He had adventures and things to talk about. He could hunt, fish, prospect gold, use dynamite safely, shoot accurately, and play pool like a machine. My dad was really, nothing short of the most powerful figure in my life.

He used to sit with me on the porch, or in the living room and tell me about raising hell as a kid in Michigan, running ‘shine for his uncle, fighting with the football team, and doing farm work. He told me about getting rejected for military service during Vietnam because of a ruptured ear-drum and you could tell that while he was glad to have avoided going to hell, he was sad not to have served. Dad was a mix of contradictory feelings. Some of his stories are not fit for mixed company, and he was happy to explain them to me, even when I was probably too young to really understand. Some of them made me spontaneously erupt into laughter when the real meanings became clear later.

The early 1980s were hard on everyone financially. Mom and Dad both lost their jobs and we moved to a tiny, one-room, unfinished farmhouse in Oklahoma. Dad and I dug trenches and ran PVC pipe for water to the kitchen, but we still had to haul water in jerry-cans for showers/baths and to flush the toilet. We fished a lot. I learned a lot about survival from him that year. He never once got mad at a slightly squeamish kid who didn’t want to stick his fingers in a catfish’s mouth to take the hook out. He just kept at it until I did the deed.

Once, in jr. high school, I was in a terrible accident and nearly suffocated. My skin was blotched and stained from blood boiling to the surface for air. My eyes were solid red from the exploded capillaries. My hair was tangled and my clothes were torn. I suspect that if someone had been casting a zombie movie, I would have gotten a lot of camera time. It really was that bad. I shambled home via public buses with people shying away from me and staring (and in LA, that takes some doing!). I hurt everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Dad was preparing for a trip to the desert outside of Barstow that weekend, and saw me shuffling up the hill, clutching my bag and looking like death warmed over. My heart was heavy and I felt like hell. But dad, he knew what I needed to hear.

“Son, I hope the other guy looks worse.” That lanced my pain and let me laugh and cry and scream all at once. He took me into the house, got me cleaned up, soaked me in ice water to reduce the swelling and bruising and never once let me feel like I’d failed or been stupid. Dad took me on the desert trip and didn’t complain once about how I slowed him down, drank too much of our precious water, or that I kicked him in the shins while we slept in the bed of the pickup truck. That was him, strong, supportive, unstoppable and kind.

I’m going to miss you dad. I’m going to miss calling you an ugly old man and having you tell me I’m an ugly kid so we’re even. I’m going to miss you telling me you’re not too old or too short to kick my ass. I’m going to miss you sharing a quiet drink and a quick game of pool.

Thanks for being my dad. For being a part of my life, and for the thousands of tiny ways that you shaped me into the man I am now.

Rest in peace.

Other stories

Casey, I have been on this island since June 23rd and I am still very lethargic and scattered in my thoughts and actions. Just like you, I have always been a moover and shaker, but since I lost Arn I also lost my desire to 'keep things up' or function by any schedule. Now that I am unemployed, I have really fallen deeper into the 'oh well' attitude. I see it as letting go of the constant stress of micro-managing the life I have. I am trying to relax more and get my mind set on just getting through today, the tomorrow. I find if I try to do too much in one day, I get stressed and feel like I am failing every one concerned. I try to make a short list before bed of the few things, just a few. Nothing much, just like buy bread, sweep the porch...gives me a good feeling to complete it and it goes along with the concept of 'baby steps'. Hugs to you today and be easier on yourself. Janelle

As I recall those first couple of years, and I recall them somewhat hazily because of the widow fog, lethargy is normal. You are stunned. Your life has been zapped out of what it used to be, and of course it's going to take some time to recover.
Schedules, appearances, obligations suddenly don't mean a damn thing anymore, and that's perfectly normal and healthy. It is essential to take care of yourself, take stock of what is, in the end, important to you, and to find peace. You are no longer the person you knew; you are in the process of finding a new you, a new normal and a new life. It takes time, a lot of time.
So what if your porch needs sweeping or your web site needs tending, or your whatever needs whatever? Those obligations will still be there when you can get back to them. I like the notion of giving yourself structure, but if it means the "musts" overwhelm the "want to's," then don't do it. You are the most important person in this process, and you must treat yourself as a tender new shoot that needs care.
Some of us have always been handy around the house, and some of us depended on our men for everything involving a tool.  Speak up and someone will almost always come with encouraging words. Me, I have funky caulk in the shower. I know how to remove it and replace it, but can't get motivated to do it. If someone has magic words that will get me off my butt to strip it out, clean it up and lay down new caulk, lumpy and ugly as it may be, please jump in here.

Ahhhh repairs etc.

The summer before Phil died
the storm door stopped latching properly
and would bang in a good wind.
I had asked Phil to fix it and like all good
husbands he put it on his Honey Do list
of things they'll do when they have nothing better
to do. LOL

Anyway I remember March 2006 (3 months after Phil died)
 we had high winds. That darn door started banging
at 3AM. I opened it and tried to latch it but no luck.
It had started coming off the hinges.
I tried to ignore the banging and sleep but no such luck.
So I threw on some clothes and bundled up.
 It was still 25-30 degrees plus wind chill.
So at 3 AM here  I was a new widow lady out there
with my trusty screwdriver a butter knife
Yup I am using a butter knife to remove the now
mangled door from the frame.  All the while
I am cursing my husband for not fixing it
and the fact I was sitting there in my jammies
doing what he should be doing.

About 45 minutes later the job was done and I started
carrying the door to the garage. It was light aluminum
and almost got carried away by the wind.
 I looked like I felt in those early days
Dorothy caught in the tornado on her way to OZ.

I have called repair people to fix the big stuff
 but taking care of that silly door empowered
me. It taught me that I was indeed capable of doing
whatever I needed to do as I travel this road.
Narice