Friday the thirteenth of November.  Survival day.  My self-proclaimed holiday.  For the last  22 years I would not have lived.  22 years ago I had a lupus flare that almost killed me.  That did kill me, for a minute or two.  Since then, 22 years of full, wonderful life. 

22 years that I wouldn’t have survived.  22 years that I couldn’t have survived, but for the people that loved me.  All of them.  The permanent, my family, without them I would have had no chance.  I’m incredibly luckly to have them.  The semi-permanent, they may know who they are, but probably don’t.  The totally impermanent who may know, because I was given a chance to tell them.  Oh, and the kick-ass doctor that did everything he could think of to keep me alive.

Some people say that a near-death experience changes you; some people say that it changes you for a few weeks.  I like to think that it changed my course.  Adjusted it just a few degrees.  But, oh what a change a few degrees can make over the long haul.  Taught me a few things.  Things that everyone’s pretty much already heard.  Life is short.  It can change on a dime.  The things you do right now are the ones that matter. 

I learned that what you say now matters, because you may never get the chance to tell them what you really meant.  If you say something mean or selfish, those may be your last words.  So don’t.  Don’t say the mean things or do the selfish things.  You may never get the chance to undo them.

At the time I felt like my life had been stolen from me. And it had.  I might have had kids.  I didn’t have them early.  And then I wanted them too late.  The energy and strength I had relied on deserted me.  I had to learn to walk again. Working was difficult at best.  I wanted my life back.  I remember falling on my knees and crying to my mom that I wanted my life back.  That was the one, essential thing that didn’t desert me.  My family.

What I wanted was one thing.  What I got was something else.  What I’ve had is 22-years of life.   Because of them.  From the blood donors who will never know my name to the wonderful man who married me when I needed it, and loves me when I need it.  From my incredible parents, my mom, who came to the hospital every day, my dad who looked after me when I got home and carried me back to the hospital when I had to go there.  I know what love is because of their example.  I know what I want to live up to because of their example.  They may think that because they’re not perfect that they’re not a good example.  I think that because they’re not perfect, but keep on trying to be their best that they’re a good example.

I have two sisters who have both had rough roads to tread.  Roads just about as different as I can imagine.  But both keep on walking.

I have a wonderful husband.  The only bad thing about him is that he was really hard to find.  I’m not an easy person to love, but I can find no fault with the way he loves me.  Coming home to him is my sanctuary.

I learned that everything you do counts.  I’m no more perfect now than I was then.  I like to think that I make better decisions.  I’ll probably never know if that’s true.  I’ll just keep following that line.  The one that tells me that I know what’s right.  Sometimes I’m tempted by the easier path.  But it’s only easier in the short term.  I’ll be happier doing the thing I think is right.  It’ll cost me a bit more effort right now, but it won’t bother my conscience in the years to come.

Spent a large part of the afternoon Sunday working in the yard.  Saturday was the day for most of the heavy stuff, pruning and clearing out.  Filled the trash can up pretty quickly.  Yesterday was for sweeping up the messes I’d made, moving things around, filling feeders, etc.

The time change means it’s dark when I get home now, so all of my yard chores have to be done on the weekend.  When the days are longer I can do at the larger chores on the weekend and keep the patio swept and leaves under control during the work week.  Now it all has to be done on the weekend.

I’d working on something, then take a break and sit in my chair and read.  That’s when the visitors show up.  The goldfinches are fighting over the food now.  I’m going to guess that means that most of the people who put out  have stopped for the winter.  I’ll have to remember to fill the feeder more often.

I also spent a bit of time working on a cement sculpture I started a long time ago.  I recently asked my husband to help me lift if off of a low rolling platform up onto an old stepladder so I could work on it standing.  I’d done a small one as a trial and wanted a larger one for the front yard.  Photos are below.

Even though I’d made the smaller one, I’m still learning a lot about how to sculpt in cement.  First and foremost, make it as close to the end shape as possible.  Cement is hard!  It’s taking forever to round the corners off on that thing.  My hands and wrists are sore.  Actually, I’m sore, stabbed and bruised all over.  But I have the satisfaction of crossing a few things off the running list.

I love these silly flowers. I’ve mostly called them the ten-year flowers because it seems like they bloom once every ten years. I have found it I actually take care of them, they will bloom. This year they put on a good show.

I went to the place I usually go for lunch today and was sitting there eating delicious bulgogi and reading when a bird flew in the open door.  Panic ensued.  I couldn’t help myself, I got up and tried to help catch it.  After some flapping to and fro I did catch it.

Several people in the restaurant thought it was an owl.  It wasn’t, it was a whippoorwill.  I’d never seen one before, but they’re pretty unmistakable, with their big eyes and wide mouths.  The little hairs around the edge of it’s mouth are pretty distinctive, too.  It’s feathers were incredibly soft in my hands.  I took it outside the shop, threw it up into the air and away it flew.

From what I can find online it’s not all that common in Southern California.  I wonder what made it go out in the daylight?  It’s very windy right now.  Maybe the wind knocked it out of it’s daytime roost?  No way to tell, but it’s fun to guess.

It was very cool to be useful to both the bird and the shop owner.  I just wish I’d had my camera.  Don’t think that opportunity is coming along again.

Now I can rest.

The October birthday party went well.  Got to see my Aunt and Uncle. Met my uncle’s new dog, a very excitable Austrailian shepherd.   Got jumped on and slobbered on by said dog.  Sang happy birthday four times.  Watched the candles get blown out on four cakes.

Got a call Sunday morning, Mom was having issues and got taken to the emergency department of a local hospital.  Fortunatley her issue was minor and soon taken care of. 

However, emergency departments have changed in recent months.  I’ve never seen anyone in and out of the ED in less than 10 hours before.  Before it was like pulling teeth to try to get them to release a patient.  Not so this time.  I got the call that they were taking her in at 9:30.  At noon we out on the sidewalk waiting for my Dad to arrive to pick her up and take her home.  

We could have waited in the waiting room.  After sitting there for 10 minutes, that was not something I wanted to do.  Unless you want to get the flu or you already have the flu, stay the heck away from the emergency department.  I’ve never seen so many sick people in one place before, all of them coughing, hacking or gagging.  I decided that outside would be less risky than inside and wheeled her out to wait on the sidewalk.

There must have been forty people in that waiting room, at least half of them sick.  I wouldn’t go to the emergency department unless I thought my life depended on it.  They were cycling people through that place as fast as they possibly could.  It wasn’t that they did a bad job; they did the tests necessary to make sure it wasn’t serious and  walked her to the door. 

I’d say that the number of people there doubled between 10 am when I arrived there and 12 pm when we left.  They needed the bed, and desp

Got Mom’s birthday present today.  Going to try to find her an orchid plant at Trader Joe’s tomorrow.

Bought and planted some fresias.  They’re my favorite flower.  They smell delicious.  It amazes me how different the different colors smell.  Best are the red/yellow ones, that smell like white nectarines.  The white ones smell almost like fruit and pepper.  Doesn’t sound like a great combo, but it is.

The sprinklers went off while I was outside today.  The minute they started going I started examing the drippers.  Found and replace some that were non-functional.

Been hearing the peregrines calling.  I want to look up their lifespan.  I’ve been hearing them and seeing them from a distance for years.  Were it not for the one that landed on the barbeque I wouldn’t have believed that’s what they were.  Come to think of it, there aren’t many pigeons around here.  Or starlings.  Wonder if the peregrines have anything to do with that?

There’s been a bird calling that I haven’t heard before.  Took me forever to catch a glimpse of it, and now that I have I still don’t know what it is.  Even with the bird book to help me ID it.  Small grey bird covers way too much ground.

The hummingbird I had a stare out with yesterday apparently roosts in the purple salvia.  The salvia is in full bloom now and is no doubt a wonderful source of nectar.  Bees even hover around the fallen blossoms.

Got stared by a hummingbird for about five minutes.  I think it was an Anna’s hummingbird.

Saw the blue plane fly over.  It’s a regular.

Saw four birds flying south.  Not geese, but so high that it felt like there must be some purpose to their flight.

Used the rainwater that collected in one of my trugs to water the plants.

Continued pruning the lavender, taking only the sections not in bloom.  The bees love lavender.

Found a clump of chives that have survived three years buried under the lavender.

Saw the slim edge of the waxing moon.

I don’t know how anyone lives without at least a small piece of sky to stand under.  One of the things I like least about winter is that it’s too dark when I get home to be able to go sit on the patio and have a few minutes peace.  Without that little slice of sky I think I would just go mad.  A little bit of time out of the sight of people and within sight of at least a little bit of nature.  How apartment dwellers deal, I do not know. 

Almost every day when I get home from work I sit on the patio and read a little, do a little yard work and distance myself from the world at large.  I think it would kill me, one way or the other, to live without that.  While I can live with cool weather, I begrudge every moment of daylight that I can’t spent outside.