Only Women Bleed, Only Women Bleed

                     This was me when I was Margaret's actual age in the novel
 

Oh, kids. I'm STILL going through perimenopause. Since people love hearing a woman talk about her hormonal issues as much as they want someone to go into great details about their dreams for them, I'm going to write about it as an homage to Judy Blume - a kind of backwards "Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.":

Are you there Gawd? It's me Churly. Most of the other women in my grade are done with their period. Can you make sure I'm done with mine too now? I thought I was done last Summer. They always say you'll be post-menopausal once you've gone for one full year without getting your period, but they never say what they consider a period? Is it where you bleed for several days, or is it if you just wipe once and there's the tiniest bit of blood, and that's all? Well, according to my doctor, even the tiniest little iota of blood counts as a period. Now, I'm 56 years old, and still have to worry about birth control. Sigh.

Dear Gawd, if you are going to make me still be in perimenopause, can you please get rid of the some of the worst symptoms? Or maybe we could work out a deal? I could maybe handle the mid-section weight gain and dried-out skin, if you could keep the migraines at bay, and keep my muscles from cramping up every five minutes. 

 I understand how it is with estrogen and women - can't live with it, can't live without it. If you go through menopause in  your 40's you stand a greater chance of having heart attacks, and if you go through menopause in your later 50's you stand a greater chance of  getting breast and uterine cancer. Of course, the estrogen fluctuations are the worst! There are supposedly 34 different symptoms of perimenopause, and I've had almost every one of them. I can't take any of the estrogen supplements because of the breast cancer risk, and I've tried phytoestrogens with very little benefit. So, Gawd, if you're listening and want to help me out here, I'd love for last week to have been my very last period, so I can be in menopause, and then be post menopausal by this time next  year. 

Also, if you could try and ease up on the pain and suffering that women have to go through in our lives, and maybe smash the patriarchy while you're at it? I think all of us women would really appreciate it.

Love, Churls

I'm Writing 'Bout the Book I Read, I Have to Sing About the Book I Read

 Now I'm going to write about the books I read in February. I know I've mentioned before that for a year and a half of the pandemic I wasn't into reading very much, which never happens to me. It was kind of like having reader's block. I'm still not quite sure what the deal was there, but I think some of it was anxiety. I just couldn't read a novel where something scary was happening and I didn't already know that outcome. I read a lot more non-fiction, because I knew what happened in those books. Lately, I feel like I'm back to my obsessive reader self. I'm not at the point where I'm sometimes reading ten books a month yet, but I'm definitely reading more than one book a month. Sooooooo, here are the books I read last month:

 1.) "This is Your Brain on Plants" by Michael Pollen. I've read a few of his other books and really liked them. This is a look at some plants that are basically drugs. He starts out with opium, then moves to caffeine, and finishes with peyote. He does a great job with looking at the history, politics, culture, and side effects of each plant drug. It was all fascinating, and the thing I liked best about it, was that it was a lot more personal than his other books. I liked seeing things through his wife and his experiences.

2.) "Kindred" by Octavia Butler. Just for something special during Black History Month, I decided to look for some older books that I haven't read since the 1980's. I dug around until I found "Kindred", "Song of Solomon", and "Invisible Man". John asked if he could read "Invisible Man" again right away, and he's still working on it, so I started with "Kindred". It takes place around the Bicentennial.  A young Black woman starts having these occurrences where she is taken back to slave times to help an accident prone ancestor. She is "called" back to him over and over, and she is unable to leave that time period, until she feels like HER life is in danger. I love this book. I basically devoured it again. You should read it.

 3.) The third book I read in February is "The Care and Feeding of Ravenously Hungry Girls", by Ansissa Gray. Gray is a journalist and author. The book is about a family in Michigan, and how the issues of their childhood affect their lives as adults. I'm giving you all a trigger warning for physical abuse and eating disorder issues. I thought the writing was great, the sibling dynamics were VERY realistic, and the characters were well formed.

4.) I ended Black History month with "Song of Solomon", by Toni Morrison. I read this thirty years ago. I remember liking it, but I didn't remember what it was  about. So, it was almost like reading it for the first time. There are so many stories within stories, and a lot of different characters, but Toni Morrison gives them all her contemplation. I had to pay attention because there was so much going on, but I WANTED to pay attention. I love the character of Pilate, and while I didn't love Milkman, I was curious to see how he would grow, or not. 

From plants to people, and from science to culture, I learned, and in some cases, relearned a lot in February. Now I'm in the middle of reading through Women's History Month, where I plan to keep on learning things. All of this living and learning, is the only way I want to exist.

If You Desire a Bright Tomorrow, You Must Build a Brighter Dream

 

 On International Women's Day I happened to see that the PBS American Master's Show about Maya Angelou was on Amazon Prime. I just finished reading all of her autobiographies last year, but I was curious to see film clips and I wondered if they had any new information. Obviously, I'm a little obsessed with her, and who isn't, right? 

I read "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" when I was probably 11 or 12, and I identified so strongly with it. Since then, I've read a lot of her poetry, and as I already mentioned, all of her autobiographies. I've been to two of her readings, and I actually got to talk to her once...Or I tried to anyway.

She came to read at a very small event at a library in San Francisco in 1986. I went with my boyfriend's mom and one of his sisters. His mom didn't like me at first. The first time I met her, I overheard (although, I'm pretty sure she wanted me to hear) her say to him, "Why are you with this ugly white girl when there are so many beautiful black women you could date?" Which, wasn't very nice, but I get it. I've lived in places where I've been one of the few white people, and I've lived where there were mostly white people. I know I won't surprise you when I say, there is a WHOLE bunch of racism in this country, so it's understandable that she might not want her son dating someone who looks exactly like the oppressor.

Honestly, though, most of the white guys I dated had mom's who weren't super thrilled about them dating me either. If you haven't met me before in person, I'll just educate you about me - I'm more than a little weird, and rough around the edges. Also, I am ridiculously socially awkward. I don't dress well, my hair is all over the place, and my mom used to call me a rag-a-muffin for good reason. Of course, I think those are all amazing things about me, but I understand that not everyone else does. So, anyway, I wasn't too shocked or hurt by his mom's comment. I dated that particular man for at least two years, and we lived with his mom for a short time, so she got to know me better, and while I'm sure I would never have been her first pick for her son, she did warm up to me a little.

One of the big things we had in common was our love of literature. She would ask me if I had read a certain novel, and we would talk about what we thought. So, when she found out Maya Angelou was going to read at a library in town, she asked me to go with her. His mom was really excited to meet Dr. Angelou, and after an incredible reading, we got in line to talk to her. 

When It was my turn, she held my hands in both of hers and looked straight into my eyes. If you have ever stood anywhere near her, you know what I'm talking about when I say that her power and grace is enough to make anyone lose their train of thought. I did give it my best try, I want you all to know. So, I was super smooth and said, " I can't..I can't...I can't even..." And that was all I COULD say

Dr Angelou laughed and said, "Well, I guess you can't!" And we all had a good laugh. Thank gawd she had enough social grace for the both of us.

Anyway, I want to recommend the American Master's show on Maya Angelou. If you don't know much about her, you should, and if, like me, you have read all of her autobiographies, you will still find out new things and the photos and videos in it are delightful. I'm just sad that she is no longer walking this earth to be able to grace us with her strength.

Never Mind I'll Remember You This, I'll Remember You this Way

Archie basking in the glow of Stinky's painting.

I love art. I was fortunate enough to grow up with it all around me. My mother was a painter and my father was a photographer. They tried their damnedest to encourage us to be creative people. I think they believed that structure inhibited creativity, and I was also lucky enough to live the first ten years of my life with very little structure. It was perfect for me, but I know it's not for everyone. We didn't have a set bedtime. My mom once told me that she thought we were all intelligent enough to know when we were tired. She was giving me WAY too much credit. I am 56 years old, and I STILL don't know enough to get my ass to bed on time.

I raised my kids with a little more structure than that, but I'm sure The Oldest would tell you that it still wasn't nearly enough. I also tried to raise my daughters to make whatever they wanted, and not worry about whether someone else might think it wasn't good enough. Stinky has always loved to paint and mold clay, and make collages, and The Oldest loved photography. I have a painting that Stinky made hanging above our bed to this day.

This Christmas, The Oldest asked for some art for her office at work. Stinky and I went to the Artisan's Gallery to see what they had and if I could afford it. I saw a print of a photo from Antelope Canyon that was about the size I wanted, and it was $3,000 without the frame. I wish I could afford that, but there was no way.

Then I thought, "I have almost the exact same photo, I bet I could find someplace that would blow it up and print it off for me at a reasonable price". So, I went through our photos from our Colorado/Utah/Northern Arizona trip in 2019, and found some great shots. I picked out two for The Oldest, and a couple for us. I figured they would look great on our large living room wall that has been bare naked for the last twelve years. Then I looked around for some black wood frames. Between the four prints and the frames for all of us, it cost about $200. I could actually afford that.

Of course, then I realized that our wall was much too big for just two photos, so I had John and my girls offer their suggestions of some of the photo options I gave them. I also bought more frames, and on Friday, John helped me hang up our choices. Since I love trees, I had to put a couple up there, and an arch, and one of the gorgeous shots from Antelope Canyon. It's crazy how much better our living room looks now.

I love to paint, and draw, but I haven't had any real training, except my mom helping me with drawings when I was younger. Apparently, she thought it was important that the people I drew had necks. Who knew?

So, anyway, I draw and paint for myself, and thankfully, my mom raised me not to care if they aren't great works, or what kind of brush strokes I use. If I like something I did, I check with John to make sure he's okay with me hanging it, and since he is so damn supportive, he gives me the go ahead, and I hang it in our house, until I get tired of it, and put something else up in its place.

.

I live in a college town and have always had tons of friends who make the coolest shit. Of course, as I mentioned above, I don't have tons of money, and I have no idea what art work costs. If you were to ask me what people should charge for their work, I would say millions of dollars. They are able to put what is in their heads on paper, or in clay, or metal, or fabric, or whatever medium they use. To me, that is so impressive. 

So, if anyone I know has a print, or vessel for sale, and I CAN afford it, I try to support them, and enrich my own home by buying it. The print above is by the wonderful Greta Songe. Cats and fish? Of course I want that in my house.

My friend Chris sold us some of his gorgeous work this year. John chose the lighter work, and I loved the darker one. We both won.

 

Our friend, Maire sold us some of  her work a few years ago. I love this piece. It looks great in our kitchen, and that butterfly is everything.

Finally, I bought some of Lauren Briere's Robot prints this year and got them framed. I have admired her robots for years at the Iowa Artisan's Gallery, and they were reasonably priced, so bought three of them. I'm still not sure where to hang them, but give me some time and I'll find the perfect spot.

I do feel lucky to have been raised to make stuff, and not to worry if it turns out shitty, and to appreciate the amazing stuff that other people make. Through plagues, and wars, and the crazy things that happen in a life, those expressions, and feelings, and colors, and dreams that people share gives me hope, and that's one hell of a gift.