bugs2015

[bugs2015]

[bugs2015]

[bugs2015]

[bugs2015]

Adding sunflowers to the zinnias.

[bugs2015]

Zinnias, are so remarkable. What flower comes in this many colors, naturally?

[bugs2015]

This is me as a baby. Check out that reusable diaper showing. The reason I am posting this is because my younger son Sterling passed away in 2021. I had only looked at this photo a few times before. I never noticed that the name of the photography studio was Sterling. I don’t think that there are just random coincidences in life!

[bugs2015]

Art studio with a view of the lake in Georgia.

[bugs2015]

My friend’s art studio that sits right near a lake in Georgia.

[bugs2015]

Inside my friend’s art studio that sits right near a lake in Georgia.

[bugs2015]

Reminds me of Hayward and Tabbles

Couple goals

[bugs2015]

This has been Impossible!

Nine months ago I flew to California and picked up my

24 year old son from the hospital and flew with him to my home in Georgia. He

had been addicted to both

heroin and meth for several

years. He also had a kidney

function of approximately 9 percent. He had recently

been placed on a Methadone program which

I quickly transferred to Georgia. We have been to

Emory, seen the best kidney

specialist, have had his blood monitored, remained on a Methadone program,

received counseling from

amazing empathetic people, have seen our kidney function improve

and go from 9 percent to

22-23 percent, but with

other areas of his kidneys

not functioning properly,

he is hardly out of the woods, yet he has purchased a plane ticket

and is moving back to

California. He is missing

his friends, and I understand that, but he has

continually railed against

Georgia, boring, too many trees, displayed numerous

bouts of mental disturbance, acted out, made my life a living hell, and now will leave and expect me to put into place

In California, all of the services he has had here.

I really won’t be able to

even come close to doing this. California is my home state, but I know that they

over taxed and unable to serve all of the ex-addicts

and current addicts, and

way too many will just die

on the streets. I am also

saying that the addict must

also take responsibility for

what they have done to their own lives. These addictions have drained the

resources of every state.

I also forgot to mention

that my son also received

Hepatitis C treatment. I am

embarrassed to think of

how much he has received

here, and how ungrateful I

feel that he is. His inability to think and plan ahead will

most likely eventually cost him his life. I am frustrated

and angry that his addictions have affected so many in such a negative way! Addiction is extremely

selfish, and after nine months of his craziness, I am finding it difficult to call it a disease!

[bugs2015]

Sitting down in a restaurant

I have to find the good in the world.

I am sitting in The Earl, a restaurant

and pub in Atlanta, Georgia listening

to punk rock music. That’s a long way from

home for this California girl. My just not

so long ago heroin addicted son can now

sit down in a restaurant and eat a meal.

When he was in all of his addicted glory, sitting down inside of an actual

restaurant made him anxious and uncomfortable. Now with 17 percent of his kidney functioning, he can eat a meal without railing at me to get it to

go. “How could I be so stupid to think

that we were going to sit down and eat?”

A few times he managed to go inside an

actual favorite Chinese restaurant in

Oakland, California he frequently nodded

off during the meal. The waitress and

patrons stared, but I sat there anyway

trying to ignore their stares and obvious annoyance. Like Anne Lamont has

stated, you have to look for those little things, meet people where they

are and somehow have a little hope.

Now on 15 mg of Methadone,he is on his way out. Ironic now that his body is free of abscesses, and he no longer smells because he is showering again, that he is a little late to the recovery party, but I am still looking for a little joy here. Not sure a wall would

have helped!

[bugs2015]

Thought these were beautiful, so I reposted them

from vitalik

MOTHS and BUTTERFLIES!

photos by vitalik

[bugs2015]

The world feels like it’s blowing up.

Another thunder storm tonight in Georgia!

I ran out with lightening flashing all

around me to turn the pool pump off.

The thunder is crazy. Rainy nights in Georgia, and it feels like it’s crying all over the world.

[bugs2015]

Black Friday?

Ok, so I don’t think I have ever shopped on

a Black Friday. Who really has money so close

to the end of the month? I understand that

some people save their money all year. and

have a Christmas budget. I think I had a

Christmas savings account for a few years

when I was married, went to San Francisco,

stayed in a nice hotel, and bought a gift for

each family member, but that’s not happening

again soon. The thought of fighting over a

some what discounted television set really

does not excite me!

[bugs2015]

Fall bouquet

[bugs2015]

It’s not rocket science!

I had not heard from him for at least two

days, and my guilt was in over-drive. I texted

his friend Mikey to see if could hunt him down.

A few hours before, so I wouldn’t have to go

back out later, I had stopped by the Winn Dixie

and had sent out 55.00 towards a motel room.

The nights are getting colder in Modesto,

California, and my guilt had reached a

phenomenal, almost unreachable level. Mikey

found him pretty fast, and soon my phone

was ringing. “Fifty five dollars, fifty five dollars,

I can’t get a room for that! “ “The cheapest

rooms are 65 ; this sucks! I don’t feel good, I

need a room. “ I now mad beyond belief, I cave,

I am backing my little Fiat a million miles an

hour down a steep Georgia drive way, all the

while, screaming uselessly at a drug addict.

I am dangerous, I am losing my mind, and the

only thing that keeps the Fiat on the pot holed

road is that it’s an Abarth, and it holds the road

slightly better than the plain ‘ole Fiat! I make it

to the store, the Western Union clerks know

my name, the address, Sterling ‘s test question ; etc his story and so on. When I walk

in, I see the blonde clerk with the four inch nails

at the register. She knows I have been there once before , earlier that day, and I am back again. I am staring at her tattoos, unable to

explain adequately why I have returned. I send the money off, fifteen minutes I receive my text

from Western Union; my son has picked up

the 55.00, but not the ten. He waits until the

next day to pick up the additional ten. He did

not stay in a motel room that night that I endangered everyone’s life by driving erratically down a dark road. He couldn’t figure

out how I knew the next day when he called.

It was not rocket science!