Sobering News...

I'm posting here mainly as a closure. No one's read here, and I haven't posted here, in a year or more.

Re: Kevin Watts

 Here's what happened to my step-brother:

 Some of you will remember my tales of woe regarding my step brother, Kevin, who stayed with us for awhile, entirely blew through his $100,000+ inheritance from the sale of my late mother's house, and had to be tossed out of our lives because of his living in his van in our driveway and having loud drunks over late at night, not paying rent, refusing to get a job, etc. We kept his cats when he left. I had a dream with him in it today. He was a derelict, handing out handbills of some sort. I thought it was him, and walked away to avoid him. "Hey!" he yelled, and it was definitely his voice, "Don't turn your back on me! I know who you are!" In the dream, I was thinking that this was the last person I wanted in my life, and I kept walking. When I woke up, I looked him up online to see if there were any information on his whereabouts. Here's a link to an article I found. He was murdered in his van in Longview, WA early in September, by some trash guy he was hanging out with. Here's a link to the short, unpleasant news article: 

http://tdn.com/news/local/homicide-suspect-s-bail-set-at-million/article_5c683d7c-f71a-11e1-b9a5-001a4bcf887a.html

 Kevin was the sanest and most decent in his family, which isn't saying much, and he would trust anyone, especially if they liked the Grateful Dead. He seemed to be drawn to street folks and drug users. I don't know how he came to know his murderer, or what he was doing in Longview, WA. We hadn't seen or heard of him since the spring of 2010. I had a feeling he'd end up dead, or was already dead, but not like this, and I'm not sure what to think or how to feel about it at this particular time. If we'd still been getting the paper, I'm sure we'd have known about this at the time. There might still be remains or effects to dispose of -- I'm pretty sure his sister and brother would not have spent money for this-- so I'll have to call and find out.

I'm Going to Just Say "No" to 2012

I'm not signing up for BJP 2012. All this year I did exactly ONE PIECE. When and if my life ever gets straightened out (unlikely, the way I'm living it) I'll maybe drop back in at some point. I wish everyone well who is (or is not) continuing on with this, and thanks for the support and continued inspiration.

Much To My Surprise...

Meditation On the Key to Time

This is the one and only beading I've worked on and finished this year so far. Too much life, not enough time. But somehow, here it is, all done. Will I do more? Sure! But no guarantees.

I worked with wire and found object on this one, and, although it waited for weeks and months for me to get back to it, it seems to have turned out okay.

After a little over two months, we were able to get the money to cover the sewer pipe repair. Then, two weeks later, yesterday happened. I believe I may be cursed.

Yesterday was Hell Day, and no Rapture afterwards, at least not so far.

I spent the day in the Providence Hospital E.R. (that place we can't pay for), after the ambulance ride (the one we can't pay for), answering questions, getting a CAT scan to make sure it wasn't appendicitis (that we can't pay for), and waiting around generally. They are much better at covering patient's concerns at Providence, and they take "NO!" for an answer, unlike the money-grabbing Legacy Emanuel. But they will want their money, and we do not have it.

What happened was this: I went to bed at about 6am, then at 10 woke up with intense abdominal pain. There was throwing up. I lost a lot of fluids. Things didn't get any better, and by about 2, Tom convinced me that I had to go in. I was too weak to drive, and Tom doesn't drive, so it had to be 911.

Turned out that it was another goddamn kidney stone, but at least at Providence they let you know it can be an outpatient procedure. They gave me a whole bunch of Rxs which I'm not going to fill, and a strainer to pee through when the stone passes, if it does. At about 8pmish we got home (cab - I didn't see going on the busses in the cold, in my jammies, plus I was still all weak and stuff) and I tried to watch the Supernatural season finale, but mostly watched the inside of my eyelids. I slept all night through, and more, and feel much stronger today. The pain is pretty much gone.

I should have stayed home. I don't have any idea how many thousands of dollars this will amount to, I only know that we don't have it, and have no chance to get it. The bills will be arriving soon, and then the phone calls, and the hits to our credit. My life sucks now. The only way to pay this is not to pay the house payments and other bills. We are always told, "You make too much to qualify for aid. Too bad, you just fell through the cracks. Somebody should really do something about that."

The thing that scares me the most isn't losing the house and everything, it's what happens to the cats?

We'll get the bills sooner than later (they NEVER will just coordinate the billings and send them to you in one package), and then... Well, I'm not sure there IS an "and then..." that's in any way livable. We'll see. I'm supposed to consult a specialist on Monday, but those guys won't see you if you don't have the $, so whatever happens, I may have to just tough it out.

I'm so tired of all these hits. It seems like every time things start looking up, something else smacks me upside the head, like a depressing soap opera. I keep looking for something better, but it isn't there.

Anyway, no more beading for me for the duration. Have to concentrate on getting some money together.

Mr. Darcy

This is a black & white photo I "tinted" with Photoshop. This is the kind of thing I do when I don't want to clean my studio.

The Fun Just Never Stops, or, If It Weren't For Bad Luck, I'd Have No Luck At All

On Sunday evening, our basement drain backed up. Luckily our boxes had been elevated on plywood just enough to avoid damage. But it was a mess. Yesterday we rented a big plumbers' snake from Home Depot to try and clear the drain. It didn't work. We finally counted up our money and called a plumber in to see if a professional could solve our problems.

Bob the plumber came over at 5am, and for $80 he used his extra big plumber snake machine with the big blades on the end, and got nowhere, though he tried for about 2 hours. In fact it's worse now, the water won't drain at all, so we now have NO water use unless we want to flood the basement. NO dishes can be washed, NO flushing the toilet, NO washing hands -- NOTHING. I have no idea what we're going to do.

It turns out we have a break in our sewer line, or possibly a collapsed section. Fixing the line... requires excavation and replacement of some or all of the waste pipe. This is a 5 to 6 THOUSAND dollar job. Might as well be $5 or $6 million. What the fuck are we going to do? Maybe the city won't find out if we put in an outhouse, but it would be nice to wash up now and then.

We checked with homeowner's insurance and, no, there is no coverage for a broken waste pipe. Interestingly, there is some limited coverage for damage to the house from a broken waste pipe, but we had no damage. The break is right up near the house, too, so we can't get the city to cover it. Things look very grim.

Family Whining

The topic of art and artists came up, and the amazing things that they do. My husband, Tom, spoke of how incredible it was when he was a younger man, starting out at Marvel and being able to actually watch his favorite artists working with pencils and ink on paper, drawing the line, laying out the panels... It was a wonderful thing to see, a fan's dream! There is nothing more fascinating and inspiring than watching an artist make something out of essentially nothing, pull things together, and have a piece of art where before there was just a blank spot or jumble of components.

My dad was an accomplished artist. He was a painter and teacher, and very good at what he did. His paintings, even the relatively early, tobacco-covered ones that I recovered from my mom's filthy dark hole of a house, are full of rich colors and images. Tom asked me what it was like to see him working, and I realized that I had NEVER seen him work, ever, ever. I never watched him set up a palette, mix colors, lay out a composition, put a brush to board or canvas. NEVER. I was not welcome to do so. For whatever reason, I'd never even given that a thought before. It was just my life, I guess. Realizing this was like a broken cinder block smacking me in the face. I think I once watched him doodle out a sketch in No. 2 pencil on the back of an envelope somewhere. That's it. I never got the chance to see my dad actually being an artist. I only saw things in progress not being worked on, or finished paintings occasionally. Maybe he didn't like being watched, maybe it was just me, maybe it was something I'm not considering. But wow, I dearly wish I could have watched him make those paintings...

Ehh... The fact that my family sucked is really no surprise. It just hit me weird today, I guess.