Sunday, March 20, 2011

Blood and Ink, Part Two

Last December I got my first tattoo from my son as a Christmas gift.  I love the tattoo and the actual process of creating it was a wonderful experience (read Blood and Ink, A Christmas Gift posted 12/28/2010). My son warned me that tattoos can be addictive.  I scoffed at the idea.

Prior to my December "inking" I had in my mind an image of what I wanted.  It was a statement in pictures that symbolically had a lot of meaning for me.  I settled for the one tattoo that meant the most to me emotionally.  I didn't want to scare my dear husband "Himself" by suddenly becoming this inked silver haired old lady...the idea was, even to me, a bit weird.  Old ladies just don't go and get tattoos (at least nice old ladies!).  I'm sure this attitude is a hold over from my upbringing by parents raised in the depression.

 I was unsure of how "Himself" would react to my first tattoo.  I was really nervous.  I shouldn't have worried I guess.  He's quite fine with it.  We have a wonderful relationship, and while he wasn't ecstatic over it he realized that it meant a lot to me.  If he had been really opposed to it I wouldn't have done it in order to maintain our relationship.  He has actually come to like my "ink".  He said it sort of gives me an aura of danger that he finds kind of alluring (wink, wink).  Ah, nothing quite as exciting as an alluring crone! 

 A couple of months later I'm finding that the "image" of my whole symbolic picture statement keeps popping up in my mind.  I can't get rid of it, it won't go away. What to do....

I have to admit that even with our good relationship I was a bit unsure how Himself would react to the news that I wanted to get two more tattoos!  What I did was write a paper showing each image (including the tattoo I already had) explaining the symbolic meaning of each tattoo, how they related to each other and why I wanted them placed where I did.  I handed this "report" to Himself and waited for his reaction.  This may sound like a weird step to take but I've found that sometimes when there is a subject that might be emotionally charged writing to each other is a good solution.  You can calmly state your facts without emotion getting in the way.  It works (just a little Crone marriage tip!).

So, I've made another pilgrimage to see my Son the purveyor of amazing tattoo art and I now have three tattoos of which I'm very proud.  The process was more workman like, perhaps because I knew what to expect.  The magical and intimate aspect of the first tattoo was missing. This did not make the "inking" less special for me.  How many silver haired old ladies can say that their son did all their tattoos?  I love all three pieces of art and the meaning behind them.

I've made my statement even if very few people know what it is.  I've realized during this process that this is my "mid-life crisis" or perhaps more accurately my "mid-life realignment"!  I had this overwhelming desire to do something that said "here I am - take it or leave it - I'm not changing or bending for anyone ever again!".  I've thrown a gauntlet down, drawn a line in the sand.

La Petite Crone says:  I AM!

Monday, March 14, 2011

Things I Wonder About

As I've gotten older I find that my mind tends to wonder about things that I normally wouldn't have paid any attention to.  Is this because I have too much time on my hands?  I don't think so.  I do seem to be constantly busy.  Is it because I'm suddenly imbued with the wisdom of the ages and just have a more inquiring mind?  However much I like this theory I suspect this isn't the case either.  Whatever the reason I tend to wonder about odd things....

I wonder what dogs would accomplish if they had thumbs.  Knowing my faithful mini minions I shudder at the thought. They seem pretty adept at opening and holding things now without thumbs!

I always wondered why they hardly ever show people on television or in the movies having to heed the call of nature?  On that point, how did Darth Vader, you know...."go"?  I'm sure there is some one out there who knows the answer to that.  For that matter did they have a cafeteria on the Death Star?

Why can't my dear husband "Himself" brush  his teeth or wash his hands without completely spraying water, toothpaste and soap all over the mirror and counter?  He says he's just "enthusiastic"....I have to laugh about it and agree, yet how he does it, even when he's trying to be careful is a mystery!

How do my faithful mini minions Rupert and Boomer know exactly what time it is even when the time changes?  They get a treat at 3 PM and dinner at 4 PM each day and they let us know in no uncertain terms what time it is.

I wonder why now that I'm older am I turning more towards introspection?  This introspection is causing me to be more open to ideas and thoughts that I never would have entertained even a few years ago.  Is this part of the natural cycle of life?  I really don't think so.  Remembering my parents and other older people that I've been friends with most seemed content to just age.  Is my exploration of within and without a result of the so called self indulgent baby boomer generation?  Perhaps.  But is this a bad thing?  I would have to say no.

I'm hoping that as they age more people spend time in introspection.  Being more thoughtful and mindful about your life changes how you look at things, how you act and how you treat others.  Going within helps you understand the material world and be more open to the spiritual world.

La Petite Crone says:  Take some time to go inside today

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

I'm a wuss

I have to admit that I'm turning into a wuss in my old age.  When I was younger, heck even just a few years ago, I could, and did, deal with physical pain, go on with my life, work, play and take care of my "household duties".  But here I am, a Crone (although I'm a young sexy Crone to my way of thinking!) and pain is beating me down.

I've turned into a total wuss regarding pain.  I'm tired, cranky, worn out, don't want to do anything but crawl into a dark room and curl up...I want it to go away.  About three weeks ago I evidently either broke and/or dislocated my finger.  I woke up and I was in excruciating pain.  My hand was swollen, black and blue and cold.  The thing is, I don't know how I did it!  And I think this is what bothers me more than anything!  How can you dislocate or break a finger and not know it????  Is my mind gone?  Did aliens come and take me away during the night and do this to me?  Do I sleepwalk and got into a bar room brawl somewhere?  It's driving me nuts.

I was very reluctant to go to the emergency room....all they would do is x-ray, splint and tell me to see my regular doctor.  Emergency rooms are for heart attacks and life threatening situations not swollen finger mysteries!  So three weeks later I get in to see my regular doctor and he x-rays, splints and gives me drugs (which made me sick so I'm not taking them).  Now I'm waiting to hear back from him.  I'm in pain, I'm sure my hand is healing "wrong" and it's going to be hell to fix.  Sigh.....

I'm ashamed that I'm a wuss.  I think perhaps if I knew how I did this, knew the reason I was in pain it would be easier to deal with.  I had a doctor tell me once that pain was actually our friend.  Without pain we'd never know when something was wrong.  I can see his point but he seemed so very jolly when he told me his theory.  I changed doctors.

La Petite Crone says:  Pain may be our friend but I'm ignoring it's request! 

Update:  I finally got a diagnosis but only after I took matters into my own hands.  I obtained a copy of my x-rays and went to another doctor.  I now have an appointment with an orthopedic doctor/surgeon. 

La Petite Crone Says:  Sometimes you have to just take control

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Lessons I've Learned as a Time Traveller

My dear husband (Himself) and I are time travellers.  We currently visit the mid-Victorian era. We both have been involved in living history for many years. I have for fourty years and Himself for nineteen.  Living history is for all intents and purposes practical time travel.  You dress up in garb as accurate as you can make it, create a character from that time period and for a few days you live the life as real as you can.  It's lots of work, fun, different, educational and to some people a bit weird.  Like every hobby there is a community, you have friends in that community, there is the kinship, the slang, the inside jokes.  You understand each other.

There are many reasons to become involved in this strange activity.  An ancestor from the time period you want to connect with or honor, just a general interest in the time period, for educational reasons, you love history, you like to dress up in strange clothing, or you just like doing strange things.

Here are some very interesting things I've learned while time travelling.

Corsets are great for weight control - you don't eat much while wearing one.

Nothing feels quite so good as taking a corset off at the end of the day.

High winds while wearing a hoop skirt are interesting.

The smell of sweat soaked wool is memorable.

Life use to be much more dirty.

Water is all important, warm water is a luxery.

Fire is a good thing to have.

Doing normal every day activities such as cooking and cleaning took a lot of work and effort.

I could go on and on....suffice it to say I've learned that we are quite spoiled in our modern life.  I like it though and there is no way I'd want to live in the past.  I appreciate my life a great deal since I know to a small degree what it's like not to have modern convieniences.  I laugh when I hear people say how things would be so much better if we just turned back the clock a hundred years or so.  They are obviously deluded.

La Petite Crone says: You can visit the past but you don't want to live there.