well…

Well. Today is my 31st birthday. I had a whole draft post written about the year I’ve just had and how I’d like to never, ever have another similar one in future.

But then I  read it back and decided not to post it.

Sure, the beginning of last year (calculating from birthday to birthday) was quite phenomenal what with our whole Coast-to-Coast American vacation (of which I have been promising more details and I will get there, soon!) and getting to see so many friends and family members.

But then came my whole life-changing diagnosis with Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension in August. And everything to do with that part of my life has been pure  hell and I would quite like to go back in time and never have this condition. I mean, I’ve had a headache for 275 days. For crying out loud!!! But if we’re wishing for things…. Well, why stop there?

Do I want some of last year back? Yes. Are there things I would change? Yes.

But…

I have my wonderful husband. I have my family and I have his family. I have two nieces whom I adore and cherish. I have friends (far and near) that have enriched my life in ways I could not ever express. I have loved and laughed and cried with these people over the past 365 days and I wouldn’t change any of that.

Which makes changing the last year difficult. How do you regret one thing without changing another? Hmmm…

So, no, it hasn’t been the best year. But that’s OK. You win some, you lose some, right?

Although, this year I aim to spend less than 31 days in the hospital and I would also like to have a lot less lumbar punctures. Correction, I would like to have a lot less  failed lumbar punctures.

Who knows what’s coming? I certainly don’t.

I know I’ll be ready for it, though. This last year has taught me at least that.

You and me, 31, we’ll be OK.

xo
A

tunesday

Yes, it’s back too. I couldn’t think of a better way for me to ease back into the habit of writing frequently than by resurrecting one of my favourite features: Tunesday!

Today I’m sticking close to home and doing what I can for a local band that I have an extreme playlist crush on. They’re a trio called Fatherson and, as far as I know, they’re Kilmarnock born and bred. So much the better for us, or do I have to remind you all of the benefits of an audible Scottish accent?

As for who they are off stage, I have no idea, never having met them myself. On stage they are refreshing, energetic and just plain fun.

If I had my way I would showcase all of their songs that I know, but I will stick to the format and narrow it down. Because I have to. Expect to see more from them, especially around their upcoming hometown gig at The Grand Hall.

The Band: Fatherson

The Song: First Born

So, that’s Fatherson. And, as an added bonus, lots of Glasgow in the background!

Like I said, there’s more to come from me on this topic, I just wanted to get Tunesday off to a running start. Look them up. They may be local now, but they’ll be global soon.

xo
A

i know, i know

It’s been too long.

I don’t have any excuses. Except to say that I’m sorry, and I can only try harder in future.

To say that the past few months have been full of fun and games would be untrue, although they have been eventful. Some good news, some mediocre and some not very nice at all, but we’ll get to that.

I’ve missed writing about Christmas and Thanksgiving, two of my favourite times of year, as you well know. My Mom was here for three Weeks and we went to Paris. It was unforgettable.

I will get you caught up, just give me some time, and as long as I don’t have to spend loads of time in the hospital again, it shouldn’t be too much trouble.

Wish me luck.

xo
A

on modern technology

I have had a revelation. Truth. And prepare yourself because it’s a good one. Are you ready?

When one is staying in the hospital after having recently discovered that one is suffering from a rather painful condition, one should not be allowed access to the mobile internet at 4am.

Are you ready for my second revelation? (I may have been gone a while but when I come back I do it with style!)

On 29 September I was diagnosed with Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension (IIH) the main symptom of which is frequent (read daily), throbbing, splitting headaches which have thrice so far been so bad that I was sure there was no way I could survive them.

These headaches are caused by having too much Cerebrospinal Fluid (CSF) which presses rather uncomfortably on the brain, and combined with the nausea and the almost constant badly blurred vision (which makes it hard to read and makes me too sacred to drive) this condition has so far not been a great deal of fun.

I will tell you all my diagnosis and hospitalization drama another time because at the moment I’m trying to make a point about modern technology…

Which is that sometimes it’s not a good thing.

Being that IIH most commonly occurs in overweight 30 year old women, of which I am one, this morning when I awoke at 4am (thankfully not, as yesterday, with a screaming headache, but rather because I’m on the respiratory ward and all 3 of my wardmates SNORE) I decided to Google whether losing weight would cure me (although I’ve already lost 35 pounds this year). Because if the internet told me losing weight would cure me I would stop eating immediately, no matter how ill-advised.

Google-ing IIH is something I have thus far not allowed myself to do.

For good reason.

The first link I clicked on lead me to a page of a support forumn. Ok. I can get on board with this… Right? A support community is a good thing. Right?

Well yes, of course, I’m sure I’ll be grateful in the long run. But when I’ve only just discovered this morning at 4am that there are people who have been suffering for YEARS with no measurable decline of their symptoms despite various treatments? Well, no, I’m not entirely pleased.

Did you hear me say YEARS?

So my conclusion is that modern technology is rubbish. And that, even if I didn’t wake with a headache, by now I can feel one coming on. And, now that Google has planted the word YEARS in my (slightly squashed, let’s be honest) brain, I doubt if I shall ever sleep again.

Signing off from the incredibly noisy annex of Ward 3B at Crosshouse Hospital,

xo
A

Red 14 Photography

Well, it’s finished. At long last. After months of deliberation, indecision and, above all else, trying to find a name for it, I have finally opened my Etsy shop.

I am very pleased indeed to present to you:

There you can buy prints of some of my photographs. It’s a bit sparse at the moment but over time I will have more selection. It is a very time consuming process getting prints ready for sale. Nothing, in my mind, is good enough Straight Out of Camera and therefore I have become very good friends with Photoshop over the past few months.

Browse. Buy if you want. Tell your friends.

I may never sell a single print, but at least I’m out there trying.

xo
A

p.s. Red 14 is from the Roulette wheel. Apparently it’s my lucky number. Who knew?

chippewa lake, an update?

When I was in Ohio in June I made a point of taking a detour to Chippewa Lake to see the destruction of the site.

I was very surprised to see not much has happened with the new development at all. There were a few construction trucks and a couple of parked cars by the gate next to where the Coaster used to be, but no development visible from the edge of the property.

I’m wondering whether anyone out there knows what’s going on? Was there a lack of funding? A planning problem? Did they deconstruct the most tangible memories of the park only for the project to languish under lack of steam?

The ferris wheel is still standing, so that’s one good thing. My husband said he thought it would be bigger…

Also, there’s a small sign outside one of the cottages that says Chippewa Lake Museum Coming Soon, or Future Sight of Chippewa Lake Museum or something like that. Which is very promising, if you ask me.

xo
A

blue highways

In preparation for our upcoming Road Trip Adventure I have started reading travel books.

At the moment I’m 111 pages into William Least Heat-Moon’s Blue Highways: A Journey Into America.

The foreword:

On the old highway maps of America, the main routes were red and the back roads blue. Now even the colors are changing. But in those brevities just before dawn and a little after dusk – times neither day nor night – the old roads return to the sky some of its color. Then, in truth, they carry a mysterious cast of blue, and it’s that time when the pull of the blue highway is strongest, when the open road is a beckoning, a strangeness, a place where a man can lose himself.

If that paragraph doesn’t make you want to pick up a copy of the book then I am afraid the rest of my post will bore you. So far I am in love. Blue Highways is fascinating and informative and, at times, painful, but also irresistible.

Would you like further incentive?

Page 33

While I ate buttermilk pie, [Thurmond] Watts served as disc jockey of Nameless, Tennessee. “Here’s ‘Mountain Rose.’” It was one of those moments that you know at the time will stay with you to the grave; the sweet pie, the gaunt man playing the old music, the coals in the stove glowing orange, the scent of kerosene and hot bread. “Here’s ‘Evening Rhapsody.’” The music was so heavily romantic we both laughed. I thought: It is for this I have come.

Page 70

“Nothin’ in that water but water. Be comin’ up from four hundred feet, gettin’ cleaned all the way down and all the way back up. Natural wells used to be all over here, but them new, drilled wells dried up the othern. But this one, he be too deep.” The man closed the trunk and helped his wife into the car. “Government man come round and say he’d drill a well by the house. I tole him all we’d do with it was flush a water toilet, and we got no water toilet. I says ‘How that water gone get up to me?’ He say with a lectric pump. I says ‘We drinks water what come up of his own mind.’”

When I went back for more, the water pressure shifted, answering some change in the aquifer deep below. I wondered how old the water was, how long it had taken to get down and back up. I’ve never drunk glacier water from snows that fell a thousand years ago, but I couldn’t imagine it being any better than the South Carolina water what come up of his own mind.

I have been swept in. I couldn’t put this book down if I wanted to. I bought it from Amazon second-hand and it shipped to me from America but I guarantee it’s going right back over the ocean with me in May.

William Least Heat-Moon’s circular route around the country shares not one location with our own planned journey, although we do cross his path twice. Regardless, I think I will find this an indispensable accompaniment to our trip – if only to remind me what we should be doing. We are not taking the old blue highways – we simply don’t have the time, but that doesn’t mean we have to lose sight of the real experience. We may not stop and have dinner with strangers in a small town called Nameless, but the idea of it should still be there.

As I said, I am only on page 111. I will let you know when I get to the end and what my views are then.

xo
A