POTD and Thoughts - March 25

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There are times when you pink elephant is far worse than the "think of a pink elephant" scenario. It is not cute, it is not nice, it is not pleasing to be around, it is just right down scary. I do believe my pink elephant(s) lately look something like this one above.

Yup, maybe even scarier. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that there are times where you need more than one blue donkey, or that you go find your "secret weapon" blue donkey - the one that can pull you out of the depths of hell, even if it is just for a few moments. And maybe it is not so much the donkey as what things are attributed to that donkey.

I realized today that I needed one of those donkeys. This past week has been long and difficult. Yes, I have made it and, as I have been told, I am supposed to celebrate that - still working on that piece. As well, it is not over yet, so no early celebrating anyways.


I chose my super donkey, I cleaned off the piano, sat down, and played a while. Now, I am no piano player, yet I am a musician and that counts for something.

So what makes this such a powerful thing? This is my Grandma Blew's piano. Severely out of tune and sounds like it should be in a saloon, and it is a treasure to me. Let me skip back another generation....

My Great-grandma Cunningham was a very talented pianist and organist. She played the organ at the silent movie houses as well as for other events. I have been told that you could put any piece of music in front of her and she could play it, even if it was the first time she saw it.

Grandma learned piano, yet unlike her mom, she could play by ear. She could hear a  tune and quickly replicate it. She always told me the stories of how her mom would get so upset when she played by ear because her mom wanted her to read the music. Guess she told grandma once that she would quit teaching her unless she played via sheet music.

Grandma told me stories of how she played with a band for the street dances they would have. She would play once in a while when I stayed the night and I loved it. She loved to play The Old Rugged Cross.

I think of these rich memories when i sit down to play. It is kind of like fishing, the memories attached to it are strong enough to mask the darkness for a while. So I played for a biy - pieces from different songs. Then life of laundry and such ended my fun for the time. Maybe this weekend I can play some more.

Have felt a bit better today, no throwing up, yet plenty of nausea. It may not sound good and I am good with it. Still tired and that. Took a big nap and will call it a night after I finish this. Am back to taking a handful of meds. It discourages me as one of my proudest post-surgery happenings was going from all the meds to none. All I need now is for my sleep apnea to come back and I believe I will be able to call it all a failure.

Yet, even with not feeling well I washed the bed clothes and changed the sheets, did  huge load of dishes, and even updated my finances finances. It was just a matter of staying distracted here since I was not up to driving much.

So another day down in the adventures of life. Tomorrow will be resting and being nice to my stomach.

It is what it is.

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