Peace Sign Turns 50!

As the International Peace Day approaches I thought I would give a little tidbit of information about the most recognized symbol of peace--the peace sign which turned 50 this year!


Designed in 1958, by textile designer, Gerald Holtom, this widely recognized symbol signified Britain’s desire for nuclear disarmament. The peace symbol was brought to America by Bayard Rustin and quickly adopted by a growing civil rights movement dedicated to nonviolence. Over time, it had evolved from its association with nuclear disarmament to a symbol for counterculture. By the 1960’s the peace symbol was a symbol of free love and the hippies. The peace symbol has proven its endurance as a fixture in society. Today, as the arms race and war continue, the peace symbol is still visible at anti-war rallies and demonstrations...and on half of my t-shirts and on my school bus yellow Xterra!

Celebrate, promote whirlled peas, make love, not war.

Another one bites the dust

Had my second chemo today. Another 7 hours of being filled with toxic chemicals that pretty much fry every cell good and bad. I left the house for the first time without a wig, just a hot pink bandana. Once again I read a little (Memoirs of a Geisha) and then promptly fell asleep for the remainder of the time. Good Times! GOOD PRE-DRUGS!

I'm on so much health food stuff to rebuild immunity, increase energy, take care of nausea, build muscle tissue and stuff for bone pains. I am set and ready to kick some chemo/cancer ass! This girl is not going down! C'mon, bring it on! Just let me take a quick nap first, okay!

Here's a picture of me with hair with my very cute hippie husband, Beni. As I hope you can see from the picture, the girl here is very stubborn and persistent, doesn't ever give up and I'm not starting now!

Hair or Tennis?

With my second chemo treatment looming this week, and several doctor appointments to make sure I have enough blood cells to kill off, I had to leave the Mamma Mia! tour and fly back to Vegas. That is where I am now, home sitting on my bed with my laptop and trying to grasp what I am feeling.

My hair has been thinning each day since last Wednesday, but tonight in the shower it was coming out in handfuls. Wet gobs of hair. I stayed in the shower letting the hot water spray my body and knew this was it now, that I couldn't imagine it was going to be a pretty sight. I wondered how much had come out, what would I look like when I looked in the mirror. I had visions of big bald patches and whispy strands of hair sticking out here and there. Scary. I wasn't in a hurry to find out. I wondered how long I could stay in the shower before the hot water ran out.

I didn't get emotional, I didn't cry, I just kept grabbing wet gobs of hair and wadding it into a ball to place on the edge of the tub. Okay this is it, what I had been dreading.

I decided I couldn't stay in the shower forever, I just needed to face it, get it over with and deal with it. I turned the water off and slid the shower curtain open with a determination to be strong and face this new me. I looked in the mirror and it was frosted with steam. I was thankful for the blurred image. A slight reprieve. I took my towel and wiped a circle clean and saw whispy hairs here and there and a nice bald spot on top. I stared at myself for a long while and realized that at this point I had two choices. Hang on to every strand for as long as I could and deal with the irritation of the stray hairs that continued to shed, or whack it short and prepare for the eventual shave. I run my fingers through what's left, open the drawer and grab the sissors. I pulled up hair and cut the remaining hairs to an inch of my head. I stare at my reflection for a while to get a feel for this new image. Not so bad.

I keep thinking I should be feeling really depressed about this, but I'm not. I had a great day today and this evening I was back out on the tennis court with my team for the first time in 7 weeks. It felt great running around and smacking balls. Given the choice, I'd pick tennis over hair any day. I think I need to find a cute hat. A tennis hat! Yea, it's not so terribly bad after all, just another day in the life! And life is what it is all about....the living, not the whining!

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

It has started. A few hairs here, a few hairs there, falling gently on my shoulders, getting caught in my fingers as I run my fingers through my hair, or catching on the brush. I wonder if it just continues a few at a time or escalates to clumps on the pillow? It got me wondering if I will wake up in the morning (or one morning soon) sans hair, and if so, what will I look like without my flowing tresses? Actually, I have already cut my flowing tresses to a short bob in preparation of 'the fall.' How bad can it be? Thanks to Photoshop I can have a preview and prepare myself for what may await me one morning soon. Hmmm. Thank heavens I bought a hat while in DisneyWorld last week! Who loves ya baby and where's my lollipop?

Hurricane Fay...I'm there!

We jumped on the Mamma Mia bus (yea, they go by bus when it's a short trip) this morning and headed to Tampa. Yep, Tampa, Florida where Hurricane Fay is supposed to hit tomorrow. Announcements were made to "be prepared." Be prepared? I live in the desert. I don't know nothing about birthing babies or hurricanes! They are giving weather updates on almost every channel every 10 minutes. I wasn't really worried a few days ago, because I knew they were giving all these updates. But now, as tomorrow is looming, I started paying more attention. The news is showing that they are requesting recommended evacuations tonight in 'Level A' and mandatory evacuations tomorrow morning. Okay, that's good, if I had a effing clue where the hell level A" was!!! I just know I am in Tampa!

So, I move online. The site gives updated info, but also gives a cool demonstration in photos on the damage done by the various levels of a hurricane. Check out level 1 and then level 5. I shouldn't have laughed, I know, but for some reason, I thought it was pretty funny.

The Local News shows lists of schools That will be closed tomorrow... by counties, again, means nothing to this wild west, desert-dwelling girl.

We just get a call, the Mamma Mia tour has canceled their show for tomorrow, now that I know. The theatre's right across the street! Maybe I should go find a flashlight and some water....a couple of candy bars, beer?

added tuesday am: all is well. fay entered land way south of tampa and all we may see is some "scattered squalls." Dang, I was so wanting to see a cow fly by or a surfer dude.

MAMMA MIA!

Okay! Alright already! Yes, I am fine. Just have been unable to connect to the internet....seems like my new life line! I have joined the hubs on tour with Mamma Mia! We have been having a wonderful time in Orlando and then go to Tampa on Monday, hopefully where we will be in the real world with internet connections! I am currently sitting backstage of Mama Mia! trying to catch up on email and blogs. How cool is that? All is well, all is well!

Don't Take That Picture!

Did you know it's against the law to get within 75 feet or yards, not sure, of an abandoned seal? They can put you in jail for that! I found out the hard way when I saw what I thought was a dead baby seal pup and went to take a picture of it. It wasn't too much longer when some guy started to yell at me and telling me about the jail and so I left, said "sorry, thought it was dead!"

I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY!!!! I couldn't resist though because I just read this book called "The Year in Fog" And it starts out with a lady taking a picture of a dead seal pup (and it didn't mention anything about jail ) and the next thing you know her little girl vanishes. I wanted the picture to show my mom who also read the book and tell her I was afraid my hubs was going to vanish if I took the picture, he didn't but it was a close call.
Okay, okay, now I know, I won't ever do it again! I feel so guilty!:(

08/08/80

A day to remember. Yes. it is the opening of the Beijing Olympics, but today was a milestone for me as my first Chemo treatment. I got to the hospital at 8:30am and was out at 3:30pm. 6 hours. The good thing is that with all the stuff they give you to keep you from having an allergic reaction or to prevent nausea, I fell asleep after about 20 minutes and didn't wake up again until it was over. Nice comfy chairs, a blanket to cover up with I snuggled in and let them pump me full of whatever they wanted to. My hubs and I played one game of cribbage, (I won)and then I sent him on his way. No reason for him to sit and watch me sleep. He was there when I woke back up and that was pretty sweet.

What I didn't like was all the other people who slowly filled the room as the morning progressed. I didn't like the idea of people looking at me and thinking "poor girl" and I didn't want to be looking at sickly cancer patients either. One was a chemo patient like me, but most of the others were getting blood transfusions...YUCKY. didn't like to be seeing all those bags of blood, it really grossed me out. Probably because I just read the script for a new musical--Dracula, so I had visions of blood in my head already.

But, it is now a little after 9Pm I have drank a large containter of Gatorade and ate some broth with noodles, ate a coconut ice cream bar, and am feeling a little tired but for the most part damn fine! I see how the night and the next couple of days goes. They are to be the toughest.

Less Gas, More Ass!

Today, the annual World Naked Bike Ride takes place in St. Louis. The WNBR has been taking place across the world for many years and unfortunately, I haven't participated. I really love the body art, don't you?

The Objectives of the WNBR are:
* To protest oil dependency
* To promote comfortable body image
* To increase awareness of cyclists in a motor-driven world
* To provide exercise and fun for all those who participate


(added note: if the video doesn't play,I'm sorry. This is the third one I have put on, apparently someone complains and it keeps getting pulled, so if it doesn't play just picture a bunch of naked people riding bikes down the street. That's pretty much what it was!)

I was thinking Las Vegas seems like the all time perfect place to host the WNBR, but then I don't know if there would be enough aloe vera to take care of all those sun-blistered butts after the race!!! Now this is an activity I can really get behind, um, no pun intended!


Today also starts the 50 day countdown to INTERNATIONAL PEACE DAY! Peace and Love everybody! Peace and Love!

Rembering Randy Paush

On July 25, Randy Pausch died of Pancreatic Cancer. Last year I was sent an email with an attachment of an abbreviated version of his Last Lecture. If you haven't seen this please take a moment and watch, it's about 10 minutes. There are life lessons for all of us. I have always been a pretty positive person, but this video confirmed in me, that we really need to have fun in this life and stop complaining about the cards we are dealt. It inspired me then, it has helped me keep a positive focus this past month, and I hope you will like it too.

It's a Beautiful Day in the Hood!

THREE! Can you say three? Three is a very good number and the number I was given for chemo treatments, better than six, eight, ten or twelve! I still lose my hair, oh well, can't cry about that! Went today and bought two wigs. One long, one short. One called Nona, (like the song: Nona, N-O-N-A, Nona! Oh, no that was Lola, okay it isn't like the song!) the other Alexia. The color: Spring Honey see the short wig below. They are from the Rachel Welch collection. I looked for some silicone boobies in the boxes but there were only the wigs. One can always hope and dream, damn it!

I Will Survive!

Tomorrow I visit the oncologist to get all the details about starting my chemotherapy treatments. Actually, I have found out that what I will be getting is pretty much just plutonium, isn't that what they make bombs out of? So, I have my list of questions, such as "Will I explode?" "How long before my hair falls out?" "When can we have sex again?" "How many medications will you give me to forget all the crap that's happening to my body?" "Does this qualify for medicinal pot?" "When can we have sex again?" Oh, yea, asked that one already.

Well, I am pumped up and ready to kick some cancer ass! To everyone out in blogland I have three words: "I Will Survive!" However, I am not so certain they have been totally honest about all the side effects...

The New Engagement Ring? Say What?

I just have to post this. I was listening to public radio yesterday and they had some young couples on who were talking about relationships and stated that an engagement ring isn't what it used to be. That now, to show a girl/guy you are committed to them and want an exclusive relationship with them and show you trust them, you have sex without a condom. That's right Sex Without a Condom, the new engagement ring! Now isn't that romantic?

The Magic of Watercolors

I decided to start my art journal yesterday. I got out my watercolors that have been pretty much abandoned since my insomnia picture days. That's when I first started painting, that is painting other than the scenic art I have done in the theatre. It was about 7 years ago, I found myself alone for the first time in my life. I would wake up at 1 or 2AM and couldn't sleep, so very alone and so afraid. I decided if I was going to be up for 3 and 4 hours in the middle of the night I needed to do something productive.

And so I painted. Every fear would vanish for those hours. I didn't have one clue how to paint I just painted. Some were good, some not so good. Lots of ocean scenes, actually tons of ocean scenes. It was calming and very soothing. When I needed it the most they brought some solice to my life and some small bit of sanity to a completely fractured soul.

Eventually, six months later, my life got back on track, and the paints and the paintings were put on a shelf in a cabinet, and I had pretty much forgotten all about them. Through the years that followed I started painting with acrylics, I started beading and pretty much abandoned the watercolors, too much trouble, too hard to control.

It seemed right somehow to pull them out to start the journal. I need to see the vibrant colors that emerge off the bristles of the brush and spread across the wet paper. I need that hope. I need the fear to vanish even if for a little while.

And so I pull out the watercolors and it comes to me as the blue spreads across the paper. You are strong. Yes, I am. Just have faith. I will. Believe in yourself. Believe in your dreams. They are still there. You are still here. Yes I am.

There is faith and hope in those tubes and somehow I instinctively knew there was also a soothing power as well. I can tell right away, that it's been much too long since I sqeezed the paint on the palate, dipped the brush in the water and put the paint to paper. But that's okay, it sends me a message even in its mediocrity that embraces my scared being letting me know everything will be okay.

Old Hippies for Peace

I had my dear Beni (hubby) get me out of the house this morning, we drove over to my Mom and Dad's house for a change of scenery. It turned into me being put to task by my mom when I told her I wasn't feeling good. Of course, I was doing too much and I need to quit going to the store and shopping (I went to Michaels for 5 minutes-Oh, and Sunflower Market 10 minutes) so she is already to start bringing in the casseroles again. I can't complain really, because she made my favorite squash casserole when I came home from the hospital among many others. I love you mom!

Anyway, just needed to get out of the house was feeling punky. On the way back home we had a guy pull up and signal to roll down our window. "I like your bumber sticker! I'm an old hippie, too!" "Aren't we all" says Beni. I smile. I love driving around in my sunflower yellow Nisson Xterra. I know Beni hates it, even though I have tried to convince him it is much smaller and better on gas than my old SUV. He would have me in a Prius. You need to understand he walks or rides a bike. I'm more of a jeep sorta girl and need something that can pull my tent trailer. I'm a girl with NEEDS!



Anyway you have to picture the bright yellow Nisson with a paddedd green peace sign on the grill and several Peace bumper stickers and deadhead dancing bears on the back. It's a happy car. I get homeless people that hold up a peace hand sign when I drive by and a big smile. Makes me feel good to make people smile. And I always get these old guys pulling up besides me and signaling me to open my window, and everytime I think I have cut them off and they are going to yell at me. Instead, it's always, "I like your stickers!" Me too. Peace and Love!

Note: Check out my June 2007 post for more of my stickers and the old and new SUV.

It's Monsoon Season

It's monsoon season in Vegas. The winds start blowing in the afternoon, the clouds tumble in, thunder and lightening roars and crackles across the sky, the smell of rain permeates the air and then the flood gates open. It's weird though, because it doesn't rain over the entire city, different sections get hit. We only have had sprinkles and yet other parts of town are flooded. But the end result leaves the air cool and smelling fresh and clean, a nice reprieve from the smog filled oven of our Vegas summer days. It reminds me of camping on the Oregon Coast. I wish I could be there now without a care in the world. My mind free from all the confusion and fear that currently has taken up residency.

People ask me how I feel. I don't know how to honestly answer that. Physically? I'm sore, sometimes in a lot of pain but doing well. Mentally? Okay. Afraid of what is ahead of me with the chemo. Emotionally? I feel like a monsoon is inside of me and the floodgates are going to open any minute and the tears are going to pour out. My womb is gone. I feel empty. It protected and fed four babies. It was my last connection to a very special, intimate time. It was what made me a woman. It's gone. I keep thinking of this ugly alien invader that somehow managed to attack my body and I didn't even know it was there. It stole something precious to me. I didn't expect to feel this way. But I do. How can I explain that to people who ask how I feel?

I now understand exactly these lyrics of Eleanor Rigby..."wearing the face that she keeps in the jar by the door." I have had to grab that face put it on, smile, pretend.

So whenever anyone asks I just say, "I feel great. Getting better each day."

I remember how very lucky I am. My gynecologist called me a couple of days ago and and said I must have a really great guardian angel, because for the type of tumor and how advanced it was for it to have not spread was truly a miracle. I am a lucky girl. That's what I will try and concentrate on. I just wish I could go to the beach watch the waves roll in, see the seagulls soar, hear the kids laughing and splashing in the water and not have to think about what the next few months has in store for me. I want to feel the warm sun and the cool salt air on my body. I want to run on the beach and splash in the water, I want to fly my kites and get the string all tangled and spend hours untangling it. I want to play my guitar around the camp fire. I want to sing and laugh. I want to run and feel strong.

Instead my mind wanders to the hospital, sitting 5 hours with an IV that will slowly drip poison into my body. It will kill the bad cells. It will kill the good cells. It will make me sick. I will lose my hair. There will be pain. There will probably be tears and some self-pity. But it will not get the best of me. Because I am going to kick this things ass! Chew it up and puke it out!

I know, like the monsoons, it may be a terrible storm, but it will pass. But you know, I just can't help it that I am a little scared. I have always hated the wind blowing at night, and that is what this feels like, dark and scary.

Blahg Revolution!

Three cheers for BlahgHer! Thank you V-Grrrl for your inspiration on so many levels.
I am inspired! It's been just one week since I was released from the hospital for my Ovarian Cancer surgery and I decided that my recovery would be a time of growth and not one of self-pity, or being a whiny ass about being hit with this disease. I am convinced that this cancer was the result of a much stress-filled life. I know I am the only one who can rid myself of the demands of this stress that seems to follow me in whatever I am doing. It must stop. How can I use my time away from work (and housework) as a learning and growing experience? I decided I would dive in to as many of my art hobbies as possible. Bring them out of the closet so to speak. Stop stressing and start creating.

With that said, I am so excited about having time to work on stuff I have started and stuffed into closets or under the bed and really try and develop my talents! I'm not going to worry about how good they are, just that it brings me great joy in the creating. It gives me the opportunity to try and capture a small glimpse of Brenda on the inside and throw it out there for all to see, good or bad. I know I would rather improve on my limited abilities in a variety of areas, instead of trying to be an expert in one given area. So, for now, I will bounce around to what the day moves me to do, whether it be the challenge of working with watercolors, the joy of blending acrylics, the capturing of a moment in time in photography, or just the satisfaction of accomplishment I get from beading or crocheting.

Not mastering any of these arts used to leave me with a great sense of inadequacy. After reading V-grrrl and tracking down the book "Journal Revolution" which really encourages one to just do it, whatever "it" is and enjoy the expression of one's self, has given me a new courage to start anew.

I'm so jazzed about this wonderful book: "Journal Revolution: Rise Up & Create! Art Journals, Personal Manifestos and Other Artistic Insurrections" by Linda Woods and Karen Dinino. It encourages you to create your art no matter the media, let it come from within to be an expression of who you are and what you are feeling. It was so liberating! I truly paint for myself enjoyment so who cares that it isn't perfect?



I realize I need to stop being the critic. The learning is in the mistakes and I need to learn to appreciate the mistakes for what they are. Many times it's the accidents that are the best part of a piece. Yet, being a perfectionist is the character trait (flaw) that is my greatest barrier in developing my art. Much of my work shown here is unfinished, pieces started and left for another day, many needing the highlights and shadows to complete but me feeling hesitant on where to start. Well, now the time has come to just do it! Yea! I am free to just be me!

I'm Not Dead Yet!

On Tuesday, July 8, the day after my TAH BSO surgery(Total Abdominal Hysterectomy Bilateral Salpingo-Oopherectomy), the doctor came in and told me "it was cancer."

It all started in Austin. I was presenting at a conference and the day before I was to come home was hit with horrible nausea and stomach pains. Okay, I was eating at every Mexican restaurant I could find, some were real hole-in-the-wall places, so I assumed I had food poisoning. When I flew home the next day still in so much pain, I landed and went straight to the ER. They thought it was my appendix, the CT scan showed a pelvic mass. WHAT?

The next month was a blur of doctor visits, referrals, blood tests and setting a date for surgery, June 7, 10AM. I had always gone for all my check ups. I had a pea size cyst on my ovary at last check up. So, probably just a cyst. Nothing to worry about. And I am not a worrier, so I believed I would have the hysterectomy, 6 weeks to recover work on my art and other projects and that would be it. But the doctor blew that image to smitherines with her "cancer" statement. Am I in shock? I don't know, I took it pretty well I think. She tells me lymph nodes and the omentum (what the heck is that and do I need it?) were removed. We will know more when the test results come back. So I wait a week.

July 15, I go to have the staples removed and get the results of the biopsies. I have been pretty calm all week. All my research indicates Ovarian cancer isn't usually discovered until the later stages. I hope I am in the 15% of those in the early stages and will have a good chance of survival. I can't believe I would survive my near drowning last summer to be hit with this now. I tell myself I've always been pretty lucky. The doctor tells me all lymph nodes were negative. All tissue tested--negative. By the time I had the surgery the tumor was the size of a cantaloupe and was attached to my bowel, rectum and uterus. It ruptured during the surgery which really grosses me out to think about all that gunk inside, but doctor assures me I was completely washed clean. I will have chemo. I will most likely lose my hair. Hair grows back, I don't care about my hair. I am excited that I won't have to shave my legs and will be getting a free Brazilian! How cool is that? I am thrilled it is stage I. I am very lucky.

The doctor is classifying the cancer as Stage 1 c. Which is really good because most Ovarian Cancer isn't diagnosed until stage III when the success rate isn't very good. They haven't determined the type of ovarian cancer and I am still waiting for the results of that, but hopefully the Stage I will remain the classification.


Here's a picture of my staples and then after they were removed two days ago and the steri-strips attached. I'm a little concerned about the weirdness of my belly button! Oh well! I know you can't tell because of the swelling of my stomach, but after four kids, I had NO stretch marks at all. I know I shouldn't be upset about the scar. But I am.

I have now been out of the hospital a week, and will start chemotherapy in the beginning of August. Very strange that I about drown last summer only to be hit with one of the deadliest cancers for women this summer, in an early stage that is still treatable. I must have a tremendous guardian angel looking out for me.

For now I am researching all I can, trying to find how to ease the side effects of the chemo, how to try and build up my body prior to the treatments, how to beat this thing and get back to my tennis, back to normal whatever that is.

My theme song for now is from Spamalot: "I am not dead yet, I can sing and I can dance, no need to call the doctor cuz I'm not yet dead!" I had it on my cell phone while in the hospital, drove the doctors and nurses crazy!

I will be off work for at least 8 weeks I will have plenty of time to start blogging again and getting back in touch with my blog friends who must have thought I had already jumped off the face of the earth! For now anyway, I am still hanging on and I'm not dead yet!

Run River Run

My advice to anyone thinking whitewater rafting in a ducky (inflatable kayak) would be fun....DON'T DO IT!

I have done a little bit of whitewater rafting on the Rogue River in Oregon. Almost every year. Not hard core but II's and III's and depending on the flow of the river, sometimes even a IV. Never was I thrown from the raft. Never did I feel afraid.

When in Colorado this summer in a great little historic town, Salida, which is near the Arkansas River and home to many rafting companies, the hubs and I decide to go whitewater rafting. Sounded fun. On the day of, he decides it would be fun to go in the duckies. Now, I am always up for adventure and even though I wasn't keen on the idea, being the trooper I always am, said okay.

That was the first mistake. However, the number one thing I did that day was something I had never done in any of my rafting trips. And that was to have a guide. Don't ask me why.

The guide goes over the if you flip, fold your arms keep your feet up and ride it out drill and we were soon on our way. The first rapid was classified as a III-IV, Hubs becomes a swimmer and I however, make it over the small fall and felt pretty triumphant. We go a little further in II-III level rapids and it's a little scary but I'm doing good. The guide then has us get out and scope out the next one, Seidels Suckhole and Twin Falls. Did I say we had two guides? A guy and a girl. The girl decides she isn't going to run it and would wait and have the guy come back and help her carry her kayak around the river to where we would be waiting.Ummmm, shouldn't that have been a clue that the novices shouldn't run it either?

Okay, so that was the plan. Follow the guide. Number one take the falls at the far left then the far right, NOT DIRECTLY OVER THE FALLS. That's really not an easy thing to do when the river is running as fast as it was. I make it through the suckhole, meanwhile, the hubs is a swimmer again and rides around the falls (excellent choice) catches up to the duckie gets back in and the guide tells him to wait around the bend for us to catch up.

My turn on the falls. I try and follow the path the guide took and make the far left side of the first fall just as he does, but the second one I can't paddle hard enough to get to the right. I see I am going over and paddle hard to straighten up and take it head on as that was my only shot. Right over I go, perfect. Until the big back wash and splash at the bottom tosses me out like a paper doll. Unfortunately, I landed in deep water with the backwash pounding me down under the water even with my life jacket on. I am doing everything I can to try and push myself up out of the water, but when I can get my head up there is so much splash that I'm just sucking in water and then pushed down under again. This goes on for several minutes and I realized I wasn't going to make it out. I was trying everything I could to push myself out of the backwash so the current could take me downriver, but couldn't get out of the hole I was in. I was ready to give up, but told myself to just keep trying don't give up. I was thinking how upset my daughter was going to be when she found out. We were supposed to be to her house the next day.

Meanwhile, the guide sees me fly and the raft go down river and thinks I did too. He paddles over to get my raft and oar and realizes he can't see me. He thinks I have gone around the bend where the hubs is hanging out. He said out of the corner of his eye he saw the top of the red helmet for a second shoot up and then disappear. He quickly got out with his kayak and got up above me and ran that portion of the river again and was able to get close to me. I popped up just at the right moment to see his yellow kayak and grabbed on. He is yelling at me to swim and kick my feet. But I am so fatigued it is all I can do to hang on. He then tells me I have to let go or I am going to flip him when he goes over the next small rapid. I look down river and know I don't have anything left in me to swim. I then see a big rock and know I would have to grab it on the side and hope it wasn't to slippery, or that I didn't get caught under it. I let go in time to grab the rock. I can't tell you how great it was to cough and choke and breathe in air and hold that rock. I held on for about 15 minutes trying to figure out if I could let go and make the swim downstream that I needed to make through the rest of this section of rapids.

I decided to pull myself up over the rock and climb a series of big rocks to get to the side of the river. So, up and over I went and around to where the guide was waiting for me. I then got in the duckie knowing the only way out was down the river.

So, there is the hubs waiting on the side of the river around the bend in a nice little shallow pool. I was a little pissed that he didn't realize that something was wrong when we weren't coming down the river. "Yea, I was a little worried, but I couldn't get back to see what was going on."

I almost drowned. I had to be rescued!

I'm still a little pissed about that!

So, then when that adventure is over and we are in the van being shuttled back into town, I realize my knee, shins and arms are killing me. I look over myself and I am nothing but bruises with a knee swollen up like crazy. I guess I was being pouned into the rocks and didn't even feel it. Thank heavens I didn't feel it, or I am sure I would have quite given up.

I have since found out that 5 people had drowned this summer, more than they ever had. I am counting myself lucky that I wasn't number 6!

Long Time Away!

Things have just been too, too hectic! Yea, I know, welcome to the club. I can't believe it has been a month, though since I have been on my blog, or anyone else's for that matter. I have lot's of stories from my trip to Colorado, the most exciting was I almost drowned and had to be rescued! I truly thought I was a goner. Quite the experience.

I am now up at the Mountains with my tent trailer commuting back and forth to work. I've been up there the last 3 weeks and loving it. Long drive into work, but the cool mountains breezes and the million star night skies have made it worth it.

Meanwhile, I found this picture of me and my hubby and thought it was pretty cute. He is beardless now and hair longer, so is looking more the hippie than the lumber jack of this picture. Peace! And I'll do better once I am down from the mountain.