Sidetracked Charley

A funny thing happened on the way to recovery from the Calf Canyon/Hermits Peak Fire: I lost my way. I have been through Post Traumatic Stress Disorder before. And I just figured I was there again. I knew my way out. Keep putting one foot in front of another. Replant all the seeds which were abandoned without water when I was yanked from my roots and put in an alien environment. Check on your neighbors like the Red Tailed Hawk, and Kellie across the street, and Leslie back from Guam. Plant a garden way late and paint. Survive. But like head injuries, each subsequent episode of PTSD gets harder. Not easier. Denial stronger. I became obsessed with my garden. Things which are green and growing and close to the ground so I could keep my head down and not scan the horizon for any cloud which looked too much like smoke. All clouds looked too much like smoke. When my Angel Fire friends talked of fire pits and fire works I zoned out. I even began deleting those fire bugs which talked of such t...

  Yes, it is summer and temperatures are again breaking records. I is going to be cool in Tucson today: only 107 F. But going outside my comfort zone still gives me chills. And when a friend tells me of a trip they are taking my first response is not joy but, please be careful. Or be safe. Or are you sure you want to do that. I plan my essential trips (store, post office, pick up scripts) for the low traffic times. I have studied them for a year. I stay home within my comfort zone during high tourist traffic times. I cruise down the local town main street and take inventory of the cars in the parking lot. Too many white plates and I will reschedule my shopping. Yes, I am the one that spent eight days on a house boat on Lake Powell with my sister. And I am the one who in the middle of the night when the boat started to drift jumped into the black water to grab a mooring line and secure it once again the the shore. I drove my Astro van on a road that was wet Bentonite clay. The surfa...

  First let me say the bear photo probably has nothing to do with this blog. It is just one of the photos I have taken recently that Windows 10 has allowed me access to. And it is a photo of which I am very proud of. And which scared my sister because she thought I was more intelligent then to get this close to something that large and unpredictable. I didn't admit it to here but I was scared shitless after I took my photos. Obviously sometimes my right brain gets in the way of rational thought. Like when the Hondo fire came over the crest within a half hour of my house in Questa and I took roll after roll of film with a 50 mm lens, not a telephoto, and was unaware of the sparks falling out out of the black clouds of smoke over my head until a week later I got the prints back.  But there are events and emergencies in our lives we cannot hold a camera as barrier between it and us. Real life which is not even recordable when it is happening. But sadly I am gifted or plagued with...

As the family saga goes it was all about a small pox vaccination. My mother thought the resultant scars were ugly so appealed to the family doctor to put mine on the underside of my arm. I was a lot less than a year old at the time Mother was scheduled to be flying with me on a military plane to join Dad in Rome. Eager to get away from all the relatives she planned well ahead for the vaccination so it I got sick it would not delay her departure. Two weeks later I had not shown any sign the vaccination hat taken. The site looked like an insect bite and Mother carried a certificate from the doctor that I had indeed been given all shots necessary for international travel. Sometime mid Atlantic I became seriously ill. And by the time we touched down in Rome, at the civil and not military airport I was running a fever of 104 and covered with welts, and very dehydrated. I had what custom officials believed was a full blown case of Small Pox. Which was confirmed by not having the stand...

I believe I stalled out last week. No, I didn't go upstairs, turn the electric blanket to nine and assume the prenatal position, but maybe I should have. Oh, I got things done. Or tried to get things done. I spent the week battling with an often very dependable person to get two cords of firewood delivered. And ultimately negotiating with another person for the needed winter supply. But in truth there is still no firewood in the woodshed. I am down to a few days of this winter necessity. I made yogurt, walked the dog, kept petsit appointments, paid bills. And on Monday last I dropped the pickup at the mechanic's for him to fix the brakes. I kept on keeping on after that Saturday before when the brakes failed. But I was in a fog. And in truth have missed a few things. I didn't flip the desk calendar over to the next week. Most mechanical issues with a vehicle result in it not continuing to move further than pulling it over out of the lane of traffic if you are lucky...

Through the Tears In my midlife crisis, now long past, I contemplated a career change. Well, multiple career changes. The career change du jour at one time was going into counselling. Like many who contemplate this path I was in counselling. So much in my life had gone wrong all at one. I used to stand in the basement lobby of a neighborhood church which served as a location for multiple 12 step groups from AA to ACOA to Alanon to Over-Eaters Anonymous and try to decide which one on that particular day I needed the most. My extended silences at the beginning of any counselling session centered around having to pick what I needed to talk about most. I survived that period of my life by being overly busy. In addition to the 12 step meetings, and the counselling sessions, work, and classes in mental health toward the new career. I watched movies in dark theaters until I had them memorized. Star Wars was just out. I will not admit to how many times I watched it. Before the binging d...

Be Still I want there to be stillness Be calm even if there is no peace. Breathe silently Slowly in and out. Stop the wind Cease the shouting. Do not scream Or shout. Be still. J. Binford-Bell January 2017 I feel as if I have made a cosmic shift. I felt the same 16 years ago. Only then I was hit on the head. This time I feel as if I have been punched in the belly. Really hard. I am having trouble catching my breath. Post traumatic stress disorder my psychologist said then. CBT said my neurologist. Acceptance kept me in balance even when everything in my life was changing. Even friends because I was no longer who I used to be. I tried to act as if I was when I went out among strangers who knew me before. At home I noticed I no longer liked Stephen King. I could only watch action films at home so I could escape to the kitchen when it got too fast. I was far more comfortable with the small screen of my computer as opposed to the panoramic screens of t...