- The Lemur
- ► August (13)
I've picked up a new routine on Fridays. I typically work from home on Fridays and the housekeepers come in on Fridays. I had come to the conclusion that there is just too much stuff in my house.
Some of the stuff a just a mass of clutter that has multiplied and grown over the hears. Some of is just things that we never got around to doing anything with except to stash it somewhere and leave.
So now, on every Friday, I pick a small area in the house, this week it was the main bath, last week the front room. Basically anything that hasn't been used in the three months gets tossed. If it is something that doesn't really belong in that area, it get moves to where it is supposed be, provided it passes the three month rule to begin with.
I'm sure the neighbors are puzzled as to how just a woman and a teenager manage put put out two full garbage cans every week. I know I'm amazed at how much stuff is in this house and I don't even want to think about what is in the attic.
Part of me is sad, because in the course of this cleaning, I inevitability come across stuff from my marriage. Love notes from husband, cards, photographs. I stack them up and set them aside, they're the only thing the 3 month rule doesn't apply to.
I'm rattling around the house alone again this weekend. My oldest is entrenched somewhere on Lackland AFB, enduring basic military training for the USAF. My youngest is spending the weekend with his dad.
I don't like being by myself, it gives me too much time to think. Maybe a better statement should be, I don't like thinking, at least when it comes to my current life situation. But I did, and I came to the realization that I'm stuck in limbo. I'm not falling behind, but I'm not moving ahead.
Part of it is my own fault. I want things to be the way they used to be. Reality is that those days are gone and although I might someday approach what I liked about those days they're never going to be back. It's scary moving forward, especially faced with the fact that you may be doing it on your own.
Part of it is my husband's fault. Whatever is going on in his life, he's made the decision to not include me as part of it. At least I think he has. He doesn't talk with me or to me. I hear from him when he has a question about the kids. Otherwise he's left me to fend for myself, take care of the house, pay the bills. It's almost like he's disappeared and yet he wants to keep funds jointly between us and stay on my employer's health insurance. Perhaps he doesn't know what he wants.
As I was thinking I decided that I wasn't sure what I wanted either, but I did know that I don't want to be in limbo forever. So I sat down and wrote a email to my hubby.
Limbo will only last until the end of January, make a decision or I will.
My son was born on an U.S. Air Force base a little over 19 years ago in Albuquerque, New Mexico. This afternoon he stepped on a jet bound for San Antonio, Texas, to start basic training for the Air Force.
As I stood at the back of the ceremonial room watching him be sworn into active duty military service, I couldn't help but think back to that time.
He is the first grand child for my parents and consequently holds a special place. He's named after his grandfathers. One who he has never meant because he died shortly after his father and I married, the other who holds him as the idol of his eye. He carries his father's swagger and his mother's stubbornness. He is always the first to help a friend in need regardless of the cost to himself. I'm proud to call him my son.
I knew that one day he would leave. We raised him to be self sufficient, responsible, and to grab life by the horns and live it. Still it hasn't made it any easier watching him leave. Knowing I won't hear the "Love You Mom" nearly as frequent as I've grown accustomed to. That he won't be dropping by to peruse the refrigerator and inhale any unsuspecting leftovers. I'll even miss the petty squabbles between he and his younger brother.
A page was turned today, a chapter closed, a book completed. I hope he knows how much I love him and will miss him.
One red silk tie, $12.99
One black dress shirt, $21.99
One black pin stripe suit, $74.99
Watching your oldest son teach your youngest son how to slow dance before his first homecoming dance, priceless.
It seems like my life has transformed into a series of count downs or ups as the case may be.
It's been 56 days since my husband left and I don't have any more information now then I did then.
In 26 days my first baby leaves for basic training in the United States Air Force.
It's 4 days until my second baby's first high school homecoming dance.
And it's been 30 days since I declared war on my body and decided to work on my weight. I've lost 18.4 pounds and 14 inches in that 30 days. The last couple of weeks I've managed to add some excercise in every other day.
Although everything seems to be on a time line around me, I'm on the shortest one of all...one day at a time.
September 11th. Seven years ago I was lying in bed with my husband. The clock radio kicked on and the disc jockey was just announcing that they had received reports of a small plane crashing into the World Trade Center towers in New York.
My oldest boy, who was eleven at the time, came tearing into our room 30 seconds later. He was watching the television and they had broken into the programming. I remember thinking to myself, “they’re pretty stirred up for a small plane.” I switched on the television in the bedroom just in time to watch the second plane hit the towers. It was the end of innocence for the children in my household.
Everything good about the world ended for my kids that day. Their sense that all was well in the world and that they lived in a safe place was shattered. At the time, I worked on the 36th floor of the tallest building in Portland, Oregon. That morning, my children begged and pleaded with me to please not go to work. They were afraid that our area would be next.
The next day I was driving home with my oldest son from an appointment. The radio was on and the song “God Bless The USA” by Lee Greenwood started playing. My son and I started singing along, but halfway through the first chorus, he broke down with heaving sobs. When the song was done, I turned off the radio, I quit watching T.V., I was overwhelmed by the constant images and reminders. My son, once he regained his composure, looked at me and said. “When I am 18, I’m joining the military, and I’m going to do whatever I can to keep our people safe.”
Noble words for an 11 year old, but he was 7 years away from 18, and a lot could happen between now and then.
Two days ago my son received his orders from the United States Air Force. He leaves the 28th of October for basic training in San Antonio, Texas. After he completes Basic, he will start schooling to become an Explosive Ordinance Disposal specialist.
I know that from now until his military career ends, that he will be dropped into every hot zone that exists around the world. He’ll be the guy on the front, clearing the path, to keep our people safe.
It's been a month since the world as I've known it, changed.
Now I sit at crossroads, not knowing which turn I'm ultimately going to take. I don't like the uncertainty, but truth be told I probably wouldn't like the answer to questions if I actually got them. So I wait.
I've tried hard to put one foot in front of the other, but today it's a little bit harder. It's probably a good thing tomorrow's Monday, it means I'm back to work and my day is filled with something to do. The weekend's are hard, it's hard to fill all the empty time up, even with torching. It makes me painfully aware that I don't have many friends and even fewer physically close by.
I start second guessing myself. Is there something wrong with me, is it all my fault? Maybe if I had tried harder, done something different. I just end up running circles around myself and I still don't have the answer to the questions.
You've got to love a job that lets you work from home and really love it when they let you work from home on Fridays. I spend the majority of my week in cubeville, back in the corner of the building and there are absolutely no windows in my office area. I couldn't tell you the weather outside if my life depended on it. I could cheat and use the Internet to tell what it is supposedly doing, but that is as close as I get. I rarely go out at lunch so I don't get an opportunity to figure out what is going on then either.
On Fridays however I get to sit in my home office and watch the squirrels tease the dogs. It's a beautiful fall day, and I do mean fall, because the leaves have already started turning color. They are turning way early this year, almost three weeks early, which leads me to believe we're in for a cold winter. Today however, the sun is out and it's headed towards 80 degrees with a slight breeze.
I think for me, for the near future, things are leveling out a bit. The tears have stopped, I slept last night without sleeping pills for the first time in weeks. I started my battle against the weight this week and I'm doing o.k. in that department as well. I'm going to have a lot of time on my hands over the weekend, as both my boys are with their dad.
Which leaves me with no choice other than to fire up the torch, turn on the kiln, and melt some glass.
I just got home from a long weekend at my brother's. My youngest son and I went. We spent Saturday perusing the Saturday market, followed by watching the home town parade. Then we snuck home for an afternoon nap then headed back into town for the county fair and rodeo.
Sunday we got up early and drove to a lake for some fishing. We caught our limits and headed back home for another nap, followed by an evening barbecue and board games.
And today (Monday) found us headed back home. As I was driving home, I had a lot of time to think. It's a four hour drive and the youngest was plugged into his ipod, so there wasn't a lot of conversation. I grew up in the country, outside of a small town. It wasn't until I joined the military did I really get exposed to what a "city" really was. I was never really thrilled about living in town, but that is where my husband wanted to live. I tried several times to get him to move farther out, but without any luck.
I realized today while driving back that I still miss that small town feel and living in an area where the wildlife is more prominent than the cars. The closest I get to wildlife now is a squirrel with an occasional off track raccoon. I miss neighbors that drop by to see how you're doing and to just shoot the breeze. It would be nice to have a few acres to plant fruit trees on and entertain the thought of having a couple of goats or cow or two.
Maybe I'm just being nostalgic for my youth when I felt safe and loved. Or maybe the reality is that I've gotten away from roots and perhaps I'm trying to find my way back.
Don't let anyone tell you to put something off because there is plenty of time. I'm here to tell you that life can change in instance and the best laid plans can fall to the wayside.
Three weeks ago I had just returned from a family vacation back to the Washington D.C. area with my husband, sons, and parents. Came back home with the intent to settle back into work, enjoy the time I had left with my oldest who is going into the military soon, and sit down with my husband and plan on what we were going to do in the upcoming months.
Now, three weeks later, my husband is gone. Off to live his life on his own and figure out how he wants to live his future. I on the other hand am trying to figure out exactly what my future is. I've been married for 23 years and never truly on my own. All I have in my future with any certainty, is uncertainty.
I still keep hoping that I'll wake up from a bad dream, but I've pretty much accepted the fact that I'm wide awake. I've moved to the next fantasy which is that my husband is away on a really long business trip.
In reality he might as well be. My oldest came to visit 4 days after he moved in with dad. He informed me that he had seen his father for maybe 5 minutes total, because he was always at work. He then asked if he could take a nap in my bed before going to work and asked if he could come back after work. I take some comfort in knowing that even though I will never be renowned for my domestic skills, I've always been and always will be there for my kids. It frustrates me, because my son is leaving soon and his father is missing hours of opportunity to see him before he's gone. At least I know that I will not.
So my advice to you is not to wait until tomorrow because tomorrow may not turn out like you planned.
No, it's not what you think.
One of the side effects of Cushing's Disease is weight gain and we're not talking 20 or 30 pounds. You often hear of people gaining in excess of 75 pounds over a relatively short period of time. In my case, I put on over 100 pounds.
I've been toying with the idea of getting a lap band but I'm not convinced that my issue is with what I eat entirely. I think I just put on a lot of weight and my calorie intake is such that it is coming off very slowly. I've lost 30 pounds over the last year, but I still have a long ways to go.
I've been reading and researching using a very low calorie diet. My self esteem is shot and being as overweight as I am isn't helping. So today I ordered a month's worth of food from Medifast. I'll give it three weeks and then assess whether it is something I can and will continue.
Some will probably say I'm crazy for starting a diet in the middle of everything else, but in some respects I almost think it will help. I won't have to worry about cooking, except for one meal. That one meal will be fine for both my son and I, because he loves veggies, chicken and fish.
The primary reason though is I'm doing this for me. I have to take control of my life, no one will do it for me and this is one of the places where I'm going to start.
Seventeen days before we had an official no tear day. In fact, we have had two days in a row of no tears.
I'm pretty sure I know why. I haven't physically seen my husband. I've talked to him on the phone and I've gotten to the point that if I concentrate really hard, I can do so without my voice cracking. It's seeing him that does me in.
I try to keep busy. I've decided to do an employee craft show the end of October. I've decided if I can make at least the equivalent of a stopper a day, that I should have approximately 50 to take to the show. God only knows what I'll do with 50 stoppers if they don't sell.
I'm taking a few stoppers with me when I go to my brother's over the holiday weekend. He's in the middle of wine country and my sister in law has offered to peddle my wares. So we'll see where that goes.
So life goes on...it's just different.
I'm sitting in an empty house tonight. Not physically empty, but empty of children and of course my husband. It will be that way all night. My youngest went to spend the first overnight trip at Dad's place. My oldest has a serious girlfriend and a job from 10 p.m. to 3 a.m., so I haven't seen much of him either. It will be even less so after this weekend because he is moving in with his dad.
So here I sit. The cat seems to enjoy it. She is stretched out in the middle of the kitchen floor. A month a go she wouldn't of dared take up the position for fear of getting stepped on. I suppose some people would relish having a quiet house all to themselves. I'm not one of those people.
I know those of you that have a glass addiction like myself are now screaming "Go Torch!!", but my ambition and drive is lacking. Hopefully with time and pharmaceuticals it will come back. I start on a new set of medications tomorrow that will hopefully improve my outlook on life...keep your fingers crossed.
I'm beginning to wonder if I should start a tally of how many days in a row tears have fallen. I get up every day with the lofty goal that I'm not going to cry. I still have to achieve that goal, it's been 14 days.
I suppose it is a good thing that I'm seeing a mental health professional tomorrow. This one specializes in medication management. The one next week specializes in counseling. I guess the days of an all in one package are gone.
I'm hoping that some how they'll help or numb me. I can't sleep without popping pills. I've tried every few days to skip them, only to wonder out a few hours later to take them anyway. I have never been one for makeup, but I'm considering taking the practice up in an effort to cover the dark circles under my eyes. Of course they don't make makeup to cover up red eyes.
Perhaps pharmaceuticals will save me...
I spend a lot of my waking hours asking myself this question. Does he miss me? Does he think about me? When he sees something does it remind him of me?
I suppose if I was smart and didn't want to drive myself totally crazy, I'd try to think of other things. Believe me, I've tried, but haven't been very successful. It seems that everything I see, do, or hear ties back to him. Songs on the radio, television shows, an item in the house.
It makes my heart ache and I wonder if he is going through the same thing. I guess if I knew he was it would give me some glimmer of hope that he still loved me and would come back one day. Of course I could also find out that it has just the opposite effect for him and that would be devastating to me. So rather than find out the answer, I just wonder.
I feel like I'm lost in a haze. Caught in one of those dreams where you're not sure if your awake or still asleep, except I know I'm fully awake.
Now along with the hole in my heart, there are holes in my home as well. The master bedroom closet that was once full to the brim stands with one side completely empty, only dust bunnies occupying the space. The TV stand in the master bedroom is empty as well. I walk into our psuedo office space and large gap now takes the place where once my husband's desk and computer sat. It's like that through out the entire house, everywhere I turn is a gap to remind me that he's gone. Soon the kids will become one of those gaps, albeit a gap that comes and go, but the reality is that I'm quickly approaching being in this house alone.
The thought of being alone scares me to death. I've spent the better part of the last week and half trying to keep the thought from overwhelming me. Perhaps if I was one of those individuals who had swarms of family and frienda, I wouldn't be so scared. But I don't, I have a few close friends, a few close cyber pals and a small immediate family who are scattered across the state.
The reality is I'm going to have to learn to handle being alone.
I'm not sure where to start...I'm still trying to get used to the gaps....
Every morning I wake up and lay there a moment, wondering if it's real. If I really am laying in bed alone. I have a mental argument with myself on whether to turn and see if he's laying there. I can smell him, his pillows are still there. I open my eyes and turn my head, it's only pillows.
The tears come every morning, either in bed, the shower, on the way to work, there always there, just a matter of when. Hard as I try to get through the day and past the morning water works, they always show up later in the day. If it's a good day, maybe only once. A bad day, I don't count. Throw in an almost daily occurrence of a panic attack and you have my life for the last 5 days.
I made myself walk yesterday after work, over to the high school track, around the track 4 times, and then back home. I had told myself on vacation because I had walked so much during it that I would continue when I got home. Yesterday seemed as good a time to start as any, plus I couldn't stand being in the house.
I wish one of these mornings I would open my eyes and it would be all a bad dream, I'm not very optimistic about the prospect.
I'm happy to say I slept last night. God bless pharmaceuticals and a non paranoid doctor. I actually slept through the night and an added bonus of no bad dreams.
Of course when I woke up and reality hit me the tears started all over again. Then I got angry. You know what, I am a house slob, fully admit it, it is something I have never been good at and that practice has not made perfect. I know that, it doesn't mean that I intended for my work a holic husband to work his 16 hour day and then come home and clean. What I've wanted for years is to have a maid come in and do it. Why not, we both work full time, make a lot of money, and have two kids that carry their mothers slob gene. So why not make everyone happy, have someone help with cleaning and live life. Why not? Because it costs money and if we just put a little effort in we could get it done. Well if that was truly the case we wouldn't be in this position now would we?
And I won't be in that position in a couple of weeks. I'm opening a bank account on Monday, rerouting my money into it. I'll pay my half of things and out of the leftovers, I'll hire a maid. If he decides to take me back he takes me back with the maid in place. If we go our seperate ways, I figure out where I can cut costs and hopefully keep one in place. I'm not asking for permission any more.
The other thing I'm mad about is my husband expects everyone to rise and meet his standard. He is a type A, obsessive compulsive person. If I had to put a label on him, I'd say he has ADHD, just like his youngest son. He has taken his challenges and used them as strengths and is very successful. But he works a minimum of 12 hours days, 6 to 7 days a week. He's always pushing for a goal and as soon as he reaches it, he moves it ahead, never stops to savor the accomplishment. What about compromise, what about taking a step back for the greater good?
I wish he would relaize that it isn't all me causing the problem. It's me, him, our sons, and his job. I'm hoping I can drag him to a counselor eventually and they'll point out the same things. Maybe if someone else tells him he'll listen, he won't listen to me.
Even with his faults, I love him, for who he is. He's changed over the last 23 years but I have/had no desire to end a marriage over it.
So if you're tired of whining and bitching, stop reading now. I can't venture that this blog is going to pleasant for the immediate future, but I've decided I'm better off writing than internalizing. So if you stumbled across this blog in error, I'm sorry, but this life, like it or not. If you're looking for the sugar coated stuff it's the second door down on the right.
I've survived the last 36 hours on 3 hours of sleep, a half cup of chowder, and a box of Kleenex. I discovered a new ailment today called "anxiety attacks" I have enough of a medical background to know that even though it felt like I had an elephant sitting on my chest in between the sobs, that it wasn't a heart attack. I also decided that I wasn't going to spend the weekend sleep deprived and gasping for air. So I drug myself into my doctor told him what was going on and that I needed a little help coping. He agreed and sent me home with 30 pills of sanity. I'm hoping tonight they'll bring me 8 hours of somewhat peaceful sleep.
My oldest son had escaped before everything happened to the beach house with his girlfriend. I took my youngest to his great grandmother's house so that my husband and I could talk this evening. It mainly consisted of him talking, me sobbing with a word worked in here and there.
His perspective it's all my fault, my perspective, some of it is my fault, I have work to do on my shortcomings and I'd do anything to make ammends. But it's also a two way street and I'm not walking it alone. He's too angry and hurt to listen.
He's moving into his own place when he can find one that fits his budget and we'll go into a holding pattern for at least 6 months. I have the name and number of a counselor that I will be calling Monday morning. Regardless of what happens I have to take care of me, with any luck perhaps the other will work out as well.
In the meantime, I'll keep my hand over the hole in my heart...
It seems like the only time I ever post to this blog is when I'm facing a challenge. Of course that is how this blog got started, dealing with a challenge. This posting is not exception.
Today the man of my dreams for 23 years told me he wasn't happy and out the door he went, suitcase in hand, me sitting on the couch, tears streaming down my face, my 14 year old wrapped around me sobbing. I felt like I took a sucker punch to the gut and now 10 hours later the feeling still persists.
I knew we were in a rough patch. I wanted to fix it. When I emailed him this morning and told him we needed to talk because I was concerned about our relationship, it was my intent to work on fixing it. It seems his intent was something else.
So here I sit wondering how I go on, how do I live? This is my soul mate, the man I wanted to grow old with and he's gone and I don't know if he is coming back...
I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much. -Mother Teresa
Received a phone call today from my doctor's office. They have found a spot in my lung. Now I'm headed off for a CT scan.
I went with my husband a few nights back to see the "Sex In The City" movie. I realized while sitting in the theatre that we were surrounded by groups of varying sizes of women and their friends. I also realized that I really miss not having a group of my own.
I have never been one to have a pack of friends, but I've always had at least one friend who was always there through thick and thin. You know the kind, someone you call regardless of time. Someone who always has your back and is there through the good and the back.
I had a friend who was that person for over 25 years. I suppose I should rephrase that to say I thought she was that person. In hindsight, I should of cued in that she wasn't really hitting all the friendship high spots. But when you've put all your friendship eggs into one basket, you tend to overlook things that maybe you wouldn't have if you had other options. I had the proverbial rude awakening one day and along with it discovered I no longer had any close friends.
I stress the word "close", because I have friends. People I talk with, got to lunch with on occasion, even take a long weekend here and there. But I've lost my wing woman and no squadron in sight. I miss having someone you can share every thought with without recourse. Do crazy things with, share the good times and bad times, and laugh about it 5 years later when you cross the topic again. I'm fortunate in the fact that my husband is truly my best friend as well, but sometimes what I want to do is gripe about him...in a loving way, and I can't really do that with him.
I'm trying to find another wing woman. Hopefully I'll find a more than one. I know that I have challenges ahead of me and having someone to help me balance the load would make life easier. Hopefully I will be able to do the same for them.
So if you have a wing woman or a wing man, cherish them and let them know how much they mean to you.
I'm sure you've heard that saying "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade". What does one do if you don't want to make lemonade anymore?
That was what I was thinking as I sat reading my latest set of lab tests. Here I am two years after surgery, thinking that I was over the worst of my health challenges. The Cushing disease seems to be in remission, I should start feeling great any day now right? Wrong, I wasn't. The majority of my days are filled with a generalized pain and constant exhaustion. At first, I though perhaps it was just recovering from Cushing's, they say it takes awhile, but two years? So I went in and told the doctor what was going on and they decided to test me for sleep apnea. Bingo!! That is o.k., I could handle being on CPAP if it got rid of this constant ache and exhaustion. After 4 months of CPAP no change. I wake up rested, that is good, but I still feel like I've been hit by a truck and my body has just finished running a marathon. So back to the doctor I go.
His first thought is that I have fibermyalgia, but before he can diagnose it as that he has to rule out other nasty things like Lupus, Rheumatoid Arthritis and MS. Doesn't think any of those are an issue, but needs to rule them out for insurance purposes before he can diagnose and treat fibermyalgia.
The idea of have fibermyalgia was not on the top of my list of ailments, not that any ailment is. But there are certainly worse things to have. Which brings me back to the lab tests.
Rheumatoid Arthritis. That can't be right can it? Maybe it is just a false positive. Let's run the titer, surely it will come back negative. Rheumatoid Arthritis titer is positive.
I've seen first hand what RA can do to a person's body. Granted it was years ago and a lot of progress in medication and treatment has occured since then. The fact remains however that this disease can cripple you. Slowly taking away your abilities to live a normal active life. It could take away my ability to work with glass, hold my future grandchildren, have a golden retirement with my husband.
So the dump truck of lemons has been dropped in my lap and I'm not sure I can make any more lemonade...
March 22, 2006. That was the last date I posted to this blog. When I think about what has happened between that day and now, it is kind of mind boggling. Not quite sure where to begin, but I'll try.
On April 3, 2006 I had surgery to remove a rather large tumor from my pituitary gland that was causing Cushing's disease. At least that was the going theory. In hindsight, this surgery was a lot more scary then I realized at the time. But by that point in time I was so sick that my only focus was on staying alive for one more day. I lived those "one day at a time" days for probably close to six months. I don't really remember a whole lot of what happened between April 2006 and October 2006. Maybe that is just the higher power's way of making life easier. All I do know is that I made it and that I no longer take tomorrow for granted. In fact, I don't take a lot of anything for granted any more. I was close enough to crossing over to realize that each day is truly a gift and one should treat it that way.
In late 2006, my neighbors in an effort to get me out of the house and moving again, invited me to go with them to a glass fusing class.
A really simplistic way of explaining glass fusing is you take glass, put into a kiln, heat it up until it melts together and then cool it. There is quite a bit more to it, from both a scientific and technical perspective, but I'll save that for another time. People makes fused glass pieces that are used in everything from jewelery to large platters and bowls.
My first project was a large plate. When I say large, I mean large, probably about 22 inches across. It was called a fractured plate, because I cut two large circles of glass, one a bit smaller than the other. Then I covered one with a cloth and hit it with a hammer, causing it to fracture. I then layed those fractured pieces out onto the other class circle and filed the cracks with ground glass called "frit". Popped it into the kiln for an extended period of time and ended up with my first fused piece and the start of an addiction.
Working the glass made me forget about all the aches, pains, and challenges of recoverying from surgery and Cushing's disease. Recovery is not a quick process. It's been over two years now and I'm still working on it.
I will be the first to admit I'm a bit of an enthusiast. I'm not content with just starting slow and working my way up. I jump in and in a big way. So shortly after that first fusing class, I had filled my garage with a large kiln of my own, sheets of glass, jars of frit, and lots of molds.
Anyone who has a "glass addiction" will tell you that one technique leads to another. In April 2007 I decided to take a class in making glass beads using a torch and "soft" glass rods. That lead to a class in July 2007 to learn how to make glass beads out of a different glass called borosilicate. Which lead to a class in how to make glass ornaments out of glass tubing...which lead to a class in how to make marbles. Which....well you get the picture.
Now my garage is home to a rather large torch, a couple of oxygen concentrators, a propane tank, and lots of glass rods. Yes, the kiln and the sheet glass is still there as well.
I work primarily with borosilicate glass now, also known as "boro". For the moment I seem to be focused on making marbles and winestoppers, usually with a floral theme.
One day I hope to actually sell what I make online. I've reserved the website already, http://www.purplelemurglassworks.com/. Nothing there yet, but one day soon. I'm just working on getting up the courage to take the plunge.
I don't know that this blog will have any kind of theme associated with it, other than me taking one day at a time.