Sunday, February 23, 2014


One might wonder what being Sherlocked entails. To be quite honest, I'm not totally sure, one thing I do know is that it involves me saying things like "the game is on!" or looking for clues in every situation I encounter. After Season Two wrapped up I felt an emptyness in my mystery musings. A trip to the public library produced an antidote to those feelings of loss. When I read, usually mysteries work their way to the bottom of my list for holding my interest. And yet, due to my recent introduction to the mystery genre, I soon found myself reading a YA (young adult) series called The Boy Sherlock Holmes by Shane Peacock. Not only was I reading the mystery series but enjoying them as well! I was, to say the least, pleasantly surprised. Six books later I felt that I had a fairly good grasp as to what made this intriguing character tick when he was a young lad roaming the streets of London. 

It, (the state of mind of being Sherlockedstarted innocently enough when I first started watching the BBC version of Sherlock Holmes several years ago. Each season consists of three episodes (which are actually just like mini-movies). The Sherlocked hook was set. 
Season Three (the most recent Sherlock presentation from the BBC) was a wild ride of excitement and as always, did not disappoint. As luck had it, Omsi (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) complemented the season with an excellent International Exhibition of Sherlock Holmes!
I realized after visiting the exhibit that I was sorely wanting in my knowledge of the man they call Sherlock Holmes. The exhibition was well done, interesting and worth the visit. What would of turned it into one of the most AMAZING exhibitions that I had EVER had the joy of visiting, is if I had read Sir Arthur Conan Doyles stories FIRST, and not relied on my televison only knowledge. Hence began my quest to read Sherlock Holmes the Complete Collection to help me through the end of Season Three. As I read and savor this collection, my ever-evolving condition of being Sherlocked flourishes with each page.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014



Yesterday I was able to go see a doctor and a psychiatric nurse to discuss meds, my health and where I go from here without the ginormous worry that I cannot afford the tests that need to be done!

It was a big deal.

I know this sounds corny but I cried tears of relief when I got the letter in the mail saying I was in the system to start receiving health care. I even had to share my good news with the people sitting next to me on the streetcar.

For the past several years I have lived with chronic pain 24/7. It wakes me up every two to three hours. Imagine having an infant that wakes you up with colic except you are the one who feels like crying. When I sit down to write, my arms and legs go numb. Sometimes, various parts of my body like to send sharp shooting pains that can stop me in my tracks. Oh, and I have a couple of teeth that are starting to feel neglected and are demanding my attention as well. And that's just for starters. It's not that I enjoy living like this. But when push comes to shove and a person has to choose between eating and paying rent or a visit to the doctor, healthcare gets put on the back burner or not on the stove at all.

I am grateful that I live in a country that cares that the water I drink is good for me. Or that the food my grandchildren eat is not laden with poison (for the most part). I know our country is not perfect by any means, but at least it is trying and luckily we are allowed to share our thoughts and take action if we feel strong enough about something. It seems so simple that there really is enough in this world to take care of it's inhabitants, but I guess the inhabitants need to agree that everyone deserves to be cared for.

In the meantime I will continue to try and do my part, however small, to help make someone elses journey a bit less difficult.

Metta Prayer

And I will give daily thanks that my own journey is being helped along with the Affordable Care Act.


Sunday, February 09, 2014

Snowy Sound of Silence

It's snowing, here in Portland, and it's beautiful. The poor little plant buds that started popping up a couple of weeks ago did not think this would happen (actually those of us who call Portland home did not think so either!) Snow is a rare and wonderful gift...especially if you are able to walk in it, manage to stay warm and dry and thoroughly enjoy the quiet that only a fresh blanket of snow can create.
If you are one of the many who weather the winter season in snow country you possibly may have lost the enchantment of experiencing new snow. For those of us who it only visits every other year or so, it is truly magical. I especially like the snow days that accompany a heavier snowfall. Businesses and schools close, people on cross country skis or children being pulled in their little plastic bucket cones replace the usual cars on the roadways. And dogs go nuts trying to bark at and eat snow at the same time. All of the crazy, busy schedules that everyone is on come to a standstill (or at least a major slowdown) when winter weather plays her hand.
I love it.
Snow covers up the ugliness that happens to our planet when people do not take the time to care for it, blanketing it with crystal white beautifully sculputred mounds. And until it melts, the landscape and our souls are transformed by its pure beauty.
It's snowing, here in Portland, and it's beautiful.