How can we be loved

Some Days I'm Too Autistic For the World

And that would be today. I craved a little adventure, a short 30 minute jaunt to the thrift store slightly south from here. My first encounter with the outside world, my corner gas station/ snack center, kinda set the tone for the rest of the outing. Too many people in the aisle and I felt claustrophobic, invaded. Grabbing my coffee, I hustled back to the car. It was good to get out of the house. I enjoy drives where I get to experience the outside, the trees, cows, herons and horses, from the safety of my vehicle. I am calmed by the quiet hum of the motor and the windows that shut out extraneous noise.
  Upon entering the thrift store, I don't know, everything just felt wrong. The clerk was smiling too much, you know, kinda stalkerish; the music was of a style I listen to, but it was was too loud, like I was at a live concert and I didn't feel at all comfortable covering my ears with my hands. Moving about I felt constantly stymied, claustrophobic, people in my way, carts and clerks being noisy and overly friendly. I couldn't shut out anything. The noise, the people, their loud conversations, everything  felt overwhelming. I started complaining, more like whining, about the way the shelves were stacked haphazardly; the stock was too new and nothing I wanted could be found. Prices were too high and I was quite unhappy.

  Every time it walked I into a store, I immediately wanted out. I could not be pleased. I kept thinking, well, maybe if I go to a different store I'll be fine. Fine never came. I just continued to get more dissatisfied, irritated and agitated. 

 My final stop was at a different gas station. I thought I'd bring home donuts for the kids. Walking to the donut counter, I asked if such and such type was available. The clerk didn't hear me, instead, he just walked away. 

 Hey! I'm only invisible when I want to be invisible. I said aloud, in my head. My feelings were hurt. My heart injured. I ran out the door.

 Some days, such as today, I am too autistic to safely leave the house. I don't know if it's because I got up too early, my illness is acting up, I'm too hot or cold or in pain, maybe it's the weather, the stars, I don't know...there really is no answer.

 I need to recognize when I need some rest...when going out is not a good idea. Some days it's okay to climb back into bed and pull up the covers.

 See you tomorrow

Aspergers, Living with Anxiety & Fear

I had my first foray to the foggy shores of Lake Michigan today. I've driven by, stopped and looked, many times. This was my virginal experience of actually trekking on the sand and toe touching the water.

 Having Aspergers means being full of an assortment of unusual anxieties. Today presented a very good example of how difficult little things can be.

 Before I got out of the car, I thought....I didn't want to get sand in my shoes, which would then get into my truck and make its way to my home. Yes, I pictured myself sitting on the couch, feet up as usual and sand drifting into the crevices of the brown, leathered sofa....Before I even got out of the car.

 So I will go barefoot! My mind twirled onto the possible scenario of the barefooted me, trouncing through the sand and hitting the one piece of broken glass on the entire beach. Ok, so my foot would be bleeding...what would I do? I'd take off my over shirt, wrap my injured foot and drive myself to the hospital. But what if I need a tetanus shot? I'm allergic to eggs and some shots use eggs as their base. Then what? 

 Boy, if I'm going barefoot I am certainly taking a huge risk! Maybe, if I watch most carefully every step, I can avoid such a near-death experience. I very gingerly exited the vehicle. 

 I had to take all my essentials...wallet, in case they need to identify my body...phone, to call for help or take pictures....water, in case I need to take anti anxiety or pain meds....glasses, to see up close....car keys, check. Ok, now for a leisurely, relaxing stroll on the beach. Lol lol lol

  Sand feels...funny. It's quite a unique feel you can't find anywhere else. And the sand was wet, moist, odd. The weirdest thing was there was this squishy sound when I walked. Hadn't heard that before or in years or listened to it in a long time. I literally, looked down at my feet to see what the strange sound was and where it was coming from. 

  I quickly tired. Sand walking requires a number of leg muscles one doesn't use on a daily basis. And my body continues to rehabilitate from my lingering ailments of months past. I stood at waters edge. A ginormous billow of fog was located just a couple hundred feet lakeward. I was quite delighted to see a school of small fish leaping, breaking the waters glassy plane, and returning to the depths. Methinks they were engaging in consuming any one of the hundreds of mosquitos skimming the surface and swarming me.

 I lingered a bit observing the gentle waves, the dense and shrouded fog, the play of the filtered sun off the water...then the chaotic buzz of squitos drove me scrambling for the truck. Whew. I made it!

  Every little adventure is fraught with anxiety. Every possible worst-case scenerio is analyzed and weighed. I've learned to accept this about my autism. Sometimes I try and explain this to others, but most of the time I fear their laughter, ridicule and being accused of "overthinking". Sigh. There isn't anything wrong with me...I have Aspergers and I'm getting more okay with that every day.

 This five minute scenerio I presented, well, it can happen half a dozen or thirty times a day or more.

Just wanted to share a glimpse of my world:) It's a good place to be.

Shine a Light onto the Shadow, How to Heal 101

Put down the phone and drive, Don't text & Drive!

Feel free to share

It's going to be okay

My Friend

My friend, Karon, left this earthly existence a couple years back. Her love for me still resides in my heart.

Thank you

The Indian Brave, a 1900's early American Song

This is the other song that I want to write out of the 1905 journal. It's a peak into what life was like back then.
  The Indian Brave
This country long had been,
The land of the red men,
    Proud Indian Brave
O'er mountains rock and rill,
On river, lake and hill,
We trace his path way still
  His glories live

Free as his native air
He scorned the bond (?) man's fare
    Homage gave none,
Honor alone was due
To him whose aim was true
When courage ever knew.

The fight had won
True as a friend was he
His wigwam guest was free
Safe in his home

Long may his virtues grace
The White succeeding race
And gave him rightful place
Freedom's brave son
        Tune of America

William Edmondson "Grumble" Jones 1824-1864

I am a quasi history buff and I adore research. There really was a Grumble Jones. William E. Jones was a Confederate Calvary General in the Civil War.

 His fellow Calvary General, Brig. General Imboden had this to say about William: "...was an old army officer, brave as a lion and had seen much service, and was known as a hard fighter. He was a man, however, of high temper, morose and fretful. He held the fighting qualities of the enemy in great contempt, and never would admit the possibility of defeat where the odds against him were not much over two to one."

 It appears that the reason Jones was so morose and disagreeable, was the fact that his young wife was swept from his arms in a shipwreck. It's said he grew more bitter with each passing year.

 Part of the mystery is solved. Grumbling Jones was a popular early American ballad, apparently taught to school children in 1905.

 Still unaware of the author.

Interesting

Grumbling Jones, a ballad from 1905

I bought a school girls, handwritten journal/ notebook, today from an estate sale. I'm trying to make heads or tails from it. It is dated Jan 1, 1905- July 31, 1905. It's quite beautifully written, the handwriting that is. The floppy paperback is full of songs, church hymns, holiday and Bible verses written out. Another section is history notes, along with a little algebra.
For me to better understand things, I need to write them out.
Here is a ballad or a song. I'm not sure if it is original to the author or something popular at the time. I can't find any references on google, but that means little as I can't find info online regarding a number of my interests.
If you know anything about this ballad or any others I post, please let me know.
"Grumbling Jones"
1 Old Jones was gruff and sour enough,
Oh La La La La La La_____
He walked around his nose on the ground
Oh La La La_________
He never laughed nor pleasure quaffed
But frowned on all he'd see
And if you'd meet him on the street
You'd from his presence flee.
Chorus; Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha
For nobody thinks you're smart.
You sour old. Elf Beashamed of yourself.
La la la
You had better be jolly And see your own folly
And cultivate a cheerful heart.
2. He had no friends you may defend
Oh! La la_______
To call upon when things went wrong
Oh! La la la la la la la la
For if to him a friend you'd been
In trouble or in need
He'd then in turn your favor spurn
And ne'er your kind-ness heed.
Chorus
And when he's dead and in the ground
Oh! La la la la ________
There is none to mourn or look for-lorn
Oh! La la la la _________
And if my friend you would pretend
To gain sweet friendship here,
Be good and true to all mankind.
The end you need not fear.
Chorus

I'd be interested to find out if this was a popular ballad or some type or ode, tale or song. If you have any info, please leave a comment.

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Life is fleeting & brief

She who was afraid

She lived

Sometimes

Crinkum Crankum & original art

From my "obscure word of the day" fb page...and some art from years past

Psithurism, Leaves Rustling

I think few people even notice the first time the leaves emerge in Spring, and the air changes with this new sound.

 It's probably an Aspergers, nature-lover thing. Definitely in of the bonuses of living in a four seasons climate:)