Christmas letter 2005

We three kings of Orient are;
Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.

As winter tries to pull me into its contemplative rhythm, I find that there is a more tenuous balance this year. The outward expansion that began two years ago continues to push me toward movement and activity. The usual ebb that we expect during the winter, allowing us to go within and take stock of the past year and set goals for the New Year, is much subdued. Instead, there is a strong feeling of continued forward motion, journeying toward the star of our hopes and dreams.

My thoughts ponder the journey of the Wise Men, and realize it is not so different from my own journey. They were Magi from Persia, men who studied the stars, and paid attention to dreams, and the signs and symbols of synchronicity. They were on a spiritual quest, following a star they could not ignore. The journey, while long and difficult, promised nothing less than enlightenment, the manifestation of God, an Epiphany! Who wouldn't make such a journey? They brought their most precious gifts to this manifestation of their dreams.

I received an Epiphany last year. It came in the form of an online channeling I attended with a group of friends right before Christmas. We were each given a description of our "Coat of Arms" along with three key words. The colors, symbols, and words were meant to reflect, in Michael's own words, "the notion or the idea that there is something that each fragment/essence possesses within itself that is intrinsic to its very nature, and that remains so 'essentially true' for that fragment throughout the course of its evolutionary pathwork, that it is something that cannot be undermined, sacrificed, belittled, nor invalidated no matter what the obstacle or the challenge may be." I was completely blown away by the personal information that followed. The "real me" was that part of myself that I had been pushing away out of fear for many years. And my gifts? Strength, Fortitude, and Wisdom. I decided it was time to claim and embrace these truths.

As I approached my 50th birthday in January, I began to envision a midlife celebration ceremony – something that would acknowledge my long journey, and the arrival at the "new" me, in a sacred way – like a wedding or perhaps an ordination. I wanted to make a cloak for the ceremony, like the one that had been channeled for me. I had also been thinking about changing my name. The name I go by is actually my middle name. I would make it my first name and take a new middle name. As I began to think about possible names, I had one of those inexplicable flashes of inspiration, and it gave me goosebumps ("truth"bumps). I always felt particularly close to my grandmother, Beatrice Sophia. I would take her middle name as my new middle name – Laurel Sophia. And Sophia means "wisdom."

Shortly after that, I was inspired to create a blog, and I called it Laurel Singing, Sophia Rising. It begins with these words: "I've been told that I'm wise. I think that just means I'm curious about the Universe, and deeply committed to learning and understanding everything I can about myself and why I'm here. Like every other soul having a human experience, I am on a magical spiritual journey of endless Discovery. Laurel Singing, Sophia Rising is about sharing my journey, and the hope that my wisdom might be an inspiration to others." You can read more at http://laurelsinging.blogspot.com.

And that was just the beginning of the manifestations. In March I had my bankruptcy hearing, which discharged all of my debts (except student loans) and gave me a much needed, new financial beginning. The very next week I began a new job as a part-time librarian at Waconia in Carver County. The subbing had become a permanent position at long last. Two days later, the Waconia branch manager went on maternity leave and I was offered extra hours for the next three months. On the down side, I now had "too much income" and was dropped from Minnesota Care. There is no way that I can afford my own health insurance, so I am once again among the millions of the nation's uninsured.

As luck would have it, the colitis which had been in remission for two years flared up in October. Mild though it has been, I am keenly aware of the precarious position I am in. The drugs used to treat colitis cost more than $300 a month and I cannot afford them. In the meantime, I am doing well with Boswellia, a gum resin also known as Frankincense, used to treat inflammation in Ayurvedic medicine. The synchronicity of that has not escaped me! I am seeing the story of the Wise Men from a whole new perspective this year! Still, a job with health insurance will be a necessary next step on the journey. Hennepin County has had a rash of openings lately, and even their part-time positions come with health insurance. I am sending out applications and keeping my fingers crossed.

Another step will be finding a new place to live. The landlord has been working to convert these buildings on Powderhorn Park to condos. The building farthest from the park has been nearly finished, and he has begun on my building. I have not yet had to move, but the time is coming soon. I am hoping to have that new job first, which would dictate location and how much income can go for rent. If that doesn't manifest, I will most likely move to Waconia so that I can offset some of the increase in rent with savings on transportation costs. The current commute is 35 miles each way.

The future will take care of itself though. I am too busy to waste time worrying. I continue to have four Welsh language students. The Welsh Dance group did both an adult and a children's program for the Festival of Nations last spring, and will again this coming spring. We were also asked to provide the program for this year's St. David's Society's annual banquet. The children are an absolute joy to work with. I have been asked to teach at a Welsh Weekend coming up in Madison in January. It is the same weekend as my birthday. There will be live musicians for the workshops, and I have sent off the music for the dances I will teach. It promises to be very exciting!

Church and choir activities continue to be a focus. I'll be singing a solo on New Year's Day, when the choir is off. We got our new pastor last January and she has been nothing short of amazing. She provided food for thought for my first blog entry, and her leadership has taken the church to a new level of outward expansion into social justice issues. I am proud to be a part of that. And I am proud of the role I have taken in shaping and moderating one of the online Michael groups. I have made many good friends all across the country, and it has been fun to meet them in person on my travels. We also have a small local group which tries to meet regularly for spiritual and metaphysical discussion and support. I am also thinking of starting a support group at church for people with chronic illness.

There is much to be grateful for in this past year, and there is much to look forward to for the coming year. The cats, Percy and Lily, are my darling companions, and I visit my niece and nephews as often as I can. I am very proud of them. As soon as I can after getting moved, I will make the name change official, and I will have that big celebration ceremony, cloak and all!

O star of wonder, star of light,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy perfect light.

From the past : New Year 2003

It has been a year full of questions. Another year on a path of growth without knowing what lies ahead. Perhaps I am finally learning that life is always like that – that answers are never absolute – that change is the only constant. If I can make peace with that… What was it Rilke said to his young friend? Try to love the questions…

The biggest question for me is still “What am I doing with my life? Am I where I am supposed to be? If I love being a librarian why isn’t that path opening up for me?” And “What do I do about it if it isn’t?” With the moving of the downtown library to temporary quarters for the next few years, and severe budget woes affecting the entire state, subbing has become a very precarious existence. I am supplementing, for now, with unemployment insurance, knowing that is a temporary stopgap at best. On the other hand, I am greatly enjoying the relative freedom of unstructured days to do with as I please – knowing that is temporary, too. For now, I am choosing to continue to put my energy into the library profession and to stay in the Minneapolis area, come what may, but also keeping an eye open to alternatives. Who knows what may pop up unexpectedly?

In order to expand my ability to respond to unexpected alternatives, I have finally gotten myself a car again. Don’t ask me how I’ve managed it. Some combination of opportunity, determination, and following my intuition! It is a beautiful deep blue 1995 Mazda Protégé, with over 100,000 miles on it. Nevertheless, it is an excellent car in great shape. I am thankful for it every day, and wonder how I managed for so long without it. No more commuting two hours a day on buses. No more planning every shopping trip, and trying to carry too many groceries. No more asking for rides to church and other events. It has made a HUGE difference in my life. I was able to go and visit my parents in Rapid City, and see their new apartment for the first time since they moved. I am able to visit my sister and family in Illinois, and did so for Christmas. I will be going back next month to celebrate birthdays with my nephew and brother-in-law as I used to do. And I was able to travel 300 miles in November to pick up a new addition to my family, even though everyone thinks that was nutty.

Meet Tiger Lily, a most remarkable kitten, with a remarkable history, and one would know why I did that. She was an orphan, like Percy, and hand raised by bottle with her two brothers by a woman in Chatham, Ontario. I knew Kathryn through an online group and we chat often about cats, and spirituality, and scholarly pursuits. When it came time to find homes for the kittens, Tiger Lily was given to a stranger sight unseen, through a friend taking one of the others. Kathryn wasn’t expecting to give her up, and her misgivings grew when she learned that the circumstances were not what she had been told. The attempt to get Tiger Lily back was fraught with anxiety and uncertainty. The other kitten came back but not Tiger Lily. Not until a lesson had been learned in letting go and trusting the universe. In the meantime, I decided that if by some miracle Tiger Lily was returned, that she would have a home here and be a sister for Percy. I had fallen in love with the pictures that Kathryn had posted. Well, lo and behold, they dropped her off one night in a box reeking of cigarette smoke. She was hungry and had sticky spots on her fur, but was otherwise in good shape. So we made arrangements to meet halfway through another woman who lived in Illinois. Lily is the embodiment of LOVE in a cat (if that is possible). And she is just what Percy and I needed. He has a playmate that he adores, and I have a dear little cuddle bunny.

Tiger Lily was a great comfort when Bebhinn, my grand old lady of 19 and a half, made her return journey home. Bebhinn was blind and arthritic, and kept to her usual spot on the couch, but still enjoyed life and the activity around her. I thought maybe she would keep going and going like the Energizer bunny. But in early December, when she knew Percy and I were in good hands, she took her leave, and it is like the passing of an era. I do miss her. She was a sweet cat, gentle and unassuming, the embodiment of inner and outer Peace.

When peace seems elusive, when our nation teeters on the brink of a war that few people want, and when I don’t know the answers to all the questions, I think of her, and I am reminded of what peace really is -- a way of being. Whatever the questions in your life, may 2003 be a year of Peace!

Deep peace of the running river to you.

Deep peace of the flowing air to you.

Deep peace of the shining stars to you.

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.

(Gaelic blessing)

From the past : Xmas 2000

“We fix our hopes in mystery . . .”

That was one of the lines spoken at last night’s performance of The Christmas Revels, which I was attending. It was a dramatization, in medieval format, of songs and customs relating to the ancient mysteries of winter and summer, of dark and light, of birth and death, of good and evil. I have wrestled with many such dualities this year, and have come to the same conclusion. Life is a mystery, a wondrous journey indeed, and all things are woven together. Sunlight creates shadows, and the night is full of stars. How is it possible to separate them, to experience one without the other?

That is what my year has been like. I was in the hospital in March and April, in very severe pain with toxic colitis. I missed about a month of work (with no compensation), filled out endless paperwork for Medical Assistance and Food Stamps, despaired at having to be on Prednisone, a powerful steroid that controls inflammation but has dozens of very undesirable side effects, was able to start seeing a counselor who specializes in chronic illness, and then was denied that help a month later when I was switched mandatorily to MinnesotaCare. And I could go on. Yet when friends would write or call to express sympathy for my “terrible ordeal”, like in the story of the Chinese farmer and his lost horse, my mind would say, “But maybe this is a blessing…”

The farmer only had one horse, and when his neighbors came to console him for its loss he said, “What makes you so sure this isn’t a blessing?” Some months later his horse returned bringing a splendid wild stallion. That seemed to be good fortune until one day the son fell from the stallion and broke his hip. Everyone tried to console him, but his father again said, “What makes you so sure this isn’t a blessing?” And a year later the nomads came in force across the border, and every able-bodied man took his bow and went into battle. The Chinese frontiersmen lost nine of every ten men. Only because the son was lame he was spared. And as the moral goes, “The changes have no end, nor can the mystery be fathomed.”

In June, I happened to read a wonderful book called “Ambiguous Loss,” which quoted an Anishinabe morning prayer. I have used it almost every day.
“I step into the day, I step into myself, I step into the mystery.”
It gives me courage to be here always in the present moment.

In July and August the mystery came full circle. I was in Wales traveling and giving concerts with the choir from the Oak Grove Presbyterian Church in Bloomington. This is not my “home” church – I got involved with them because they wanted someone to teach them some Welsh in preparation for the trip, and it seemed a good opportunity for me to get to Wales a second time. When the hospitalization wiped out all my savings for the trip, these wonderful people, many of them still strangers to me, made sure that I would not be left behind. Friends in the St. David’s Society of Minnesota also took up a collection. To experience that kind of love and support is a once in a lifetime kind of thing. And every time I think of it I am filled with joy and gratitude. I cannot explain to you the mystery of why Wales is the land of my heart. I only know that it is somehow “home.” And there I was, singing a solo in Welsh, and I am told that it brought tears to at least one little old lady in a wheelchair in St. Mary’s church in Beddgelert. Other highlights included singing inside Caernarfon Castle near the dais where Prince Charles had his investiture, at Eaton Hall, the private residence of the Duke of Winchester, and around St. Winefride’s well at Holywell. Everywhere we went the warmth and the hospitality was fantastic. I was even interviewed for the Chester Chronicle, and no one was more astonished than I was to see the nearly full-page article titled “Laurel’s Class Act in the US.” I thrilled to be in places with ancestral connections : Chester Cathedral, Erddig House and Elihu Yale’s tomb in Wrexham, the ruins of Castell Dinas Bran on top of a high hill overlooking Llangollen, and of course being in Owen Glendower country.

Well, I could go on and on, and not just about Wales. It has been a year of healing, of revelatory dreams, of seeing angels, and experiencing the most amazing synchronicities. I still don’t know where I’m going, or what my purpose is, or what tomorrow will bring. I fix my hopes in the mystery.

“No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in today. Take heaven!

No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present little instant. Take peace!

The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within our reach is joy. There is radiance and glory in the darkness could we but see – and to see we have only to look. I beseech you to look!

Welcome it, grasp it, touch the angel’s hand that brings it to you…Life is so full of meaning and purpose, so full of beauty – beneath its covering – that you will find earth but cloaks your heaven.

Courage, then, to claim it, that is all. But courage you have, and the knowledge that we are all pilgrims together, wending through unknown country, home.

And so, at this time, I greet you, not quite as the world sends greetings, but with profound esteem and with the prayer that for you now and forever, the day breaks, and the shadows flee away.” (Fra Giovanni, written to a friend on Christmas Eve, 1513)

From the past : Xmas 1999

WOW! As I reflect on the past year and contemplate the task of summing it up into something intelligible I am at a loss for words. Has anyone else had a year like that? Is this what they call a mid-life crisis? The journey has been an inner one, and it has meant nothing less than stripping away everything I ever believed, and re-creating my relationship to the Universe. I’m not done yet. Indeed, I feel like a newly emerged butterfly, aware that I no longer fit inside the cocoon, but not yet able to fly and therefore rather vulnerable.

I had a very remarkable dream about two months ago. I was on a skydiving adventure, examining a map of the area I was about to plunge into and trying to figure out where to land. The map was a Celtic knot, and I realized that no matter where I came down I would be on or near the Path. It wasn’t possible to get lost. That was something of a revelation for me.

My church has a new labyrinth which will be dedicated on New Year’s Eve. That is where I will be to welcome the turning of a new century. Like the Celtic knot, it seems an appropriate symbol for the journey I have been on --- a symbol that relates to wholeness, to going within to your own center and Source and back out again into the world with a deeper understanding of who you are.

The circular design looks like a maze, but there are no wrong turns or dead ends. The path only goes forward. It is the journey which is important, not the destination. Although it may seem to be a singular journey, there is unity in knowing everyone else is on the same path. Sometimes there is even someone walking beside you for a time. But wherever they go, you are part of everyone else’s experience, just as they are part of yours.

I am tempted to bring soap bubbles to the labyrinth on New Year’s Eve. That should enliven everyone’s experience don’t you think? What better way for this butterfly to begin her flight, spreading joy and rainbows on the path. It’s not a new path, but each moment on it is new. It has been a magical, wondrous journey despite the twists and turns of the past year. So again I say WOW! My hope for each of you is that your maze will also become amazement.

Rejoice, rejoice, take heart in the night,
though cold the winter and cheerless,
the rising sun shall crown you with light,
be strong and loving and fearless;
Love be our song and love our prayer,
and love, our endless story,
may God fill every day we share,
and bring us at last into glory. (Marty Haugen)

Peace, love and blessings to you all.

DIARY : Dec. 16

Things are sure hopping this time of year! I didn't get my four-day weekend - ended up called to sub on both Monday and Tuesday. That meant I had to do laundry on Sunday, which took all afternoon. It was nice to spend some time with Darlene, but nothing new got prepared for the Welsh class, nor did the vacuuming. Indeed, the students arrived before I did! All the other things I wanted to get done got moved to today. My to-do list is two pages long! I've made a small dent in the pile of dirty dishes. I need to finish the rose I started for the colleague who retired. I'd like to get my Christmas letter written. This usually happens after Christmas, but thoughts have been percolating that I'd like to finish brewing. Then there is Christmas shopping, and a birthday present for Calen, and if I'm going to have anything to eat in the next week I need to get groceries and do some cooking.

I did get the job application out for the Hopkins position. Now there is another supervisory position posted. I can put that off until Monday. I work tomorrow, and then the choir has our special Christmas program (two services) on Sunday. I have volunteered to provide solos for Sunday, January 1, as the choir will be off. I need to come up with some music.

I have emailed Dan and Todd with details of what I'd like to teach at the Welsh Weekend in Madison, so they can get music to the musicians. Imagine having live musicians! It will be quite a treat and a very special birthday weekend!

So on to the Christmas letter..... I started rereading previous years and I find them amazing. What a journey it has been! I think I will post them here to give the broader context of this year's journey.

BOOKS

Cat's Eyewitness : A Mrs. Murphy Mystery by Rita Mae Brown & Sneaky Pie Brown. 2005
Book Description
A controversial miracle in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains sparks religious fervor–and a suspicious death. With the holidays approaching, Mary Minor “Harry” Haristeen and her best friend, Susan Tucker, take a much-needed time-out at the mountain monastery of Mount Carmel. There, under the benevolent gaze of the statue of the Virgin Mary, their worldly worries are soon overshadowed. For in front of their very eyes the statue begins to cry tears of blood. Legend has it that Mary’s crimson tears are harbingers of crises. And though skeptical, the ever-practical Harry can already see one on the horizon. If leaked, news of the so-called miracle could turn the monastery and the town of Crozet into a circus. What Harry doesn’t foresee is murder.… When Susan’s great-uncle Thomas, a resident monk, is found frozen to death at the base of the statue, foul play is ruled out–at first. But at Harry’s urging, the body is exhumed for an autopsy. There’s just one problem: the coffin is empty. Now the indefatigable felines Mrs. Murphy and Pewter, along with the dogged corgi Tee Tucker, must trust their animal instincts to sniff out the worst of human nature....

The Stranger House by Reginald Hill. 2005
Book Description
The tiny village of Illthwaite in Cumbria, England, seems to be the kind of place where nothing much has happened for the last few centuries. But the two young strangers who arrive there on the same dank autumn day soon find out that appearances are deceptive. Samantha Flood and Miguel Madero have absolutely nothing in common -- except a burning desire to find out more about possible connections between Illthwaite and their families. Their way forward is beset by deceit, obstruction, mystery, violence, and love as they struggle to discover who they really are. A cast of finely drawn characters, a powerful sense of landscape, a complex and multilayered story, and an explosive climax all combine to make this a novel difficult to put down, impossible to forget.

I loved the mix of historical mystery, gothic romance, ghost story and tutorial on religion and Norse mythology. This book had it all.

The Transendental Murder by Jane Langton. 1964
Book Description
"Dying is a wild night and a new road" wrote Emily Dickinson. The sharpness of this poetic vision takes on a new meaning when, during the annual pageant commemorating Paul Revere's ride, a prominent citizen's gruesomely ventilated body (still in Minuteman costume) signals a murderer is on the loose. Homer Kelly, celebrated Emersonian scholar and legendary ex-homicide detective, happens to be in Concord completing his academic opus. When the local constabulary asks him for help, he willingly agrees.

I was very intrigued by the newest book in the Homer Kelly series (Steeplechase) just received by the library. This is a new author to me, though the series was begun in the 60s, and of course I had to start at the beginning, so I got this through interlibrary loan. It was a delightful read, and I've already started the second in the series.

I tried to read the second of the Morag Joss series about the cellist, Fearful Symmetry. I thought the musical theme, and the English setting would be appealing to me, but the promise of the first book just didn't hold up in this one. Too many other things I want to read, so I left it unfinished halfway through.

Also unfinished, though reluctantly:
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke. 2005
Book Description
English magicians were once the wonder of the known world, with fairy servants at their beck and call; they could command winds, mountains, and woods. But by the early 1800s they have long since lost the ability to perform magic. They can only write long, dull papers about it, while fairy servants are nothing but a fading memory. But at Hurtfew Abbey in Yorkshire, the rich, reclusive Mr Norrell has assembled a wonderful library of lost and forgotten books from England's magical past and regained some of the powers of England's magicians. He goes to London and raises a beautiful young woman from the dead. Soon he is lending his help to the government in the war against Napoleon Bonaparte, creating ghostly fleets of rain-ships to confuse and alarm the French. All goes well until a rival magician appears. Jonathan Strange is handsome, charming, and talkative-the very opposite of Mr Norrell. Strange thinks nothing of enduring the rigors of campaigning with Wellington's army and doing magic on battlefields. Astonished to find another practicing magician, Mr Norrell accepts Strange as a pupil. But it soon becomes clear that their ideas of what English magic ought to be are very different. For Mr Norrell, their power is something to be cautiously controlled, while Jonathan Strange will always be attracted to the wildest, most perilous forms of magic. He becomes fascinated by the ancient, shadowy figure of the Raven King, a child taken by fairies who became king of both England and Faerie, and the most legendary magician of all. Eventually Strange's heedless pursuit of long-forgotten magic threatens to destroy not only his partnership with Norrell, but everything that he holds dear. Sophisticated, witty, and ingeniously convincing, Susanna Clarke's magisterial novel weaves magic into a flawlessly detailed vision of historical England. She has created a world so thoroughly enchanting that eight hundred pages leave readers longing for more.

This is indeed a marvelous book. I managed one third of it, and have reluctantly set it aside for other things for now. It'll remain on my list of things to read when I have "time" - like after I've retired - Ha!

Another marvelous read, also returned unfinished:
The Great Book of Amber by Roger Zelazny.
Book Description
All ten of Roger Zelzany's classic Amber fantasy novels in one book! Join Corwin, Merlin and the others in wild adventures in the lands of Amber, Earth, and the Courts of Chaos, where the powers of Amber and Chaos constantly battle for supremacy through intrigue and adventure. Revisit Amber, the land of mystery, adventure and romance. Amber, the one true world. All other worlds, including our Earth, are merely Shadows.

I made it through four of the novels. One of my former grad school roommates, a huge SF fan, named her son Corwin.

On tape:
At Home At Mitford by Jan Karon.
A Light in the Window by Jan Karon.
Amazon.com review:
Father Tim, a cherished small-town rector, is the steadfast soldier in this beloved slice of life story set in an American village where the grass is still green, the pickets are still white, and the air still smells sweet. The rector's forthright secretary, Emma Garret, worries about her employer, as she sees past his Christian cheerfulness into his aching loneliness. Slowly but surely, the empty places in Father Tim's heart do get filled. First with a gangly stray dog, later with a seemingly stray boy, and finally with the realization that he is stumbling into love with his independent next-door neighbor. Much more than a gentle love story, this is a homespun tale about a town of endearing characters-- including a mysterious jewel thief--who are as quirky and popular as those of Mayberry, R.F.D. --Gail Hudson

The books of Jan Karon are utterly delightful. Having grown up as a preacher's kid, I feel utterly at home in Mitford. The characters are becoming old friends. I have already requested the next tape in the series.

Alice

It has been three months since my last letter, and I had given up any expectations of hearing from Alice. But today there was an aerogram in my mailbox! She turned 80 in August, and writing is very difficult for her. So bless her heart! I was cheered to have this reminder of the strong connection we have shared in the past. It is good to know how she is faring, and that she enjoyed my news and the photographs of the dance group performing at the St. David's Society banquet last spring. She promises to think of me on Christmas and sends lots and lots of love.

Thank you, Alice!

DIARY : Dec 10

Almost 6 weeks since the last post! Where does the time go?

Well, for one thing, Suzzanne had her baby, so I have been working a lot more hours. There has also been extra subbing. The last two weeks have both been over 30 hours, working every day. For another thing, we are getting into the holiday season with all its extra activities. The whole family gathered at Dawn's for Thanksgiving. We had a grand time! The dance group has decided to take a respite and not meet now until January. The Welsh Society had its annual Christmas Tea last Sunday.

There have been more job openings. There was a supervisory position for St. Anthony Park. I made the list for it, but have not been called to interview. Now there is an opening in Hopkins - 32 hours a week. It seems to be exactly the kind of position I have now, but more hours and with health insurance. I will put heart, and soul, and mind to work manifesting it! 32 hours a week is a very comfortable schedule. In many ways, this position represents the ideal of what I have been looking for.

Health is definitely on the upswing now. As of mid-November it had seemed to be getting worse and I called the GI nurse. She agreed to see if there was a source for enemas or suppositories like I have for the Asacol. I still had some two-year old enemas that I was rationing out. She wanted me to take Prednisone in the interim. I said no. I went online and found some studies about Boswellia, a gum resin used in Eastern medicine to treat inflammation. It is also known as Frankincense, which gives the Christmas story of the Wise Men a whole new meaning this year! Though rare and valuable 2,000 years ago, it is readily and cheaply available now - for about 65 cents a day. I got some and began taking it immediately. After Thanksgiving the nurse called back finally and said that we could get Canasa suppositories. I gave a hasty estimate of my monthly income (too low I realized later), but on that basis they had approved my application and sent the first month's supply to the pharmacy. I agonized over whether to go ahead and get it or not. When the drug company gets the paperwork back, I am quite sure that I will no longer qualify. My income will turn out to be higher than their threshhold, which, if it is the same as the Asacol, is $18,000 a year. The cost of one month's prescription? $323.99. That's almost $11 a day! I decided to go ahead and get it and let the chips fall where they may. But, by that same weekend, the Boswellia was appearing to have made a difference (in less than 3 weeks) and I wanted to wait and see if that would continue. So far, so good. And without health insurance, or drug company aid, a monthly outlay of over $300 just isn't possible on my current income. The Asacol subsidy will end at the end of May. It too is over $300 a month and I don't want to give it up. So a job with health insurance is a top priority.

Barring a call to sub on Monday or Tuesday, I now have 4 days off. That's more than I'll have for Christmas. It'll be a whirlwind trip to Illinois and back, as I cannot get any extra time off then. However, I'll be going again in January for the annual birthday bash, and I can use some vacation time then. I've also been asked to teach folk dancing at a Wild Welsh Weekend in Madison the weekend of Jan. 21 and 22. So that is looking like lots of fun!

No word yet on when I have to move, though work has already begun on the empty apartments in this building. If no new job has presented itself in the next couple of months, I will most likely move to Waconia. I have talked to a woman who manages some apartments right on the lake within walking distance of the library. Rent would be $525 a month - over $100 more than I am paying now, but I would save a good $50 on gas for commuting - heat and water paid, and no extra charge for the cats. I haven't seen them yet, so I hope they aren't postage stamp-sized, but we'll deal with that when we come to it!

Things are looking up!