Feels like an Agatha Christie mystery...

Not exactly the "statues" I had in mind, but in a way
they stand in for that element.

If you ever read "Ten Little Indians" or seen the Agatha Christie Mystery "And Then There Were None..." you may have some idea of how I am feeling today hearing that yet another long-term Multiple Myeloma (MM) has announced his acceptance that no more treatments will be done.

Since I started this blog in 2009 to rant, rave and rail against a disease I knew nothing about at that time, I have watched all those wonderful folks fall like the statues in the mystery. Fortunately the person who inspired my blog writing is still with us and he is managing the consequences of the disease pretty well as we mark the tenth year since his diagnosis.

But Mike Gormley and his wife, Lorna, are the latest victims of MM, a far more murderous element than anything Christie could create. Reading that news late last night, I guess I should not have been surprised to have had dreams about most of the others who have already departed. It was a strange party to attend, not unlike the one on Shelter Island where everyone (unknowingly) has a death sentence awaiting them. We gathered around the table and I had a chance to speak to each one, asking how they were doing, commenting on how long the silence has been, etc.

My favorite was Lonnie Nesseler, a motorcycle rider, pianist, scientist and creative personality, who stepped up and said, "It's a new adventure. You can't really describe it to those who haven't arrived yet." Lonnie had been adventuresome in his treatments, and willing to educate readers as well as his medical team along the journey. But I had a toast with Bob Kirkpatrick, who pointed out that I was now a lot closer to where he used to live, which would suggest that we are not really so distant from the Other Side as we tend to believe.

So let us raise our glasses to them all, let them hear their names called out once more in appreciation for what and who they were to each of us, gone but not forgotten.

Peter Boyle (actor), Sam Walton (WalMart founder), John Ricco (author), Andre (photographer) 2009, Hamada (statesman) 2010, Paula (Multiple Myloma Buddy maker) and Sean Tiernan (photographer) 2012, Lonnie Nesseler (educator) 2010, Robert "Bob" Kirkpatrick (inventor) 2015, and others known to me but not listed here for privacy reasons.

Each one was special to someone, each one served a purpose. I guess the reason for posting this is to honor Mike as he prepares to conclude his business here and to support Lorna as she has little choice as a primary caregiver to go along for the ride.

My dearest wish is that we are able to solve this mystery of MM; to find out what causes the bone marrow cells to start running haywire, to be able to give those with this diagnosis something to hope for, if not a cure at least some way to live with it after treatment.

The setting sun shadows Mt. Rainier in Washington State.

And I end by quoting Ken Kesey, "Loved. You can't use it in the past tense. Death does not stop that love at all."

2017 is a #1 year...

To celebrate the coming year, which carries the numerological weight of a "1," I decided I wanted to do something new and adventuresome to set the tone for "new beginnings," which is the energy for this new year.

2+0+1+7=10/1

(Numerology is an ancient science of evaluating birth dates, birth names, starting of a business, etc. and the link will take you to a place with lots of details about the coming year.)

The camel, "Eli," lives in Port Angeles and is available
for events where camel rides are an option.

The "new" thing I did was to ride a camel and to attend an Arabian Nights Murder Mystery dinner, neither of which I had ever done before.

A friend asked me "What did the camel ride feel like?" I told her that it was just as I had imagined it might be... like sitting on a rock while an enormous bowl of gelatin was being moved from side to side.

Because the temperatures were hovering in the 30's I was double-duck downed so that sausage on top of the camel is really me, not Omar's tent.

Other riders were younger or more gutsy or both and were dressed in the costume of the evening so they look as if they are supposed to be riding a camel.

"Samyiam," or "Deniz," a trader with the caravan.

The fellow in orange was also celebrating his birthday, so he was over the moon when everyone starting singing "Happy Birthday" as he went around, but the camel (named Eli) was less enthusiastic about the raw choral delivery.

My character was "Cantara," the fortuneteller (fitting, as some of my friends noted), and I tried to find costume elements to fit that role.

"Zahrah" is in the middle, discovering there's a plot afoot.

Jenna Rose, a former roommate and good pal, was "Zahrah," a young woman shopping in the marketplace. She had a friend with some belly-dancing costumery so she was quite colorful and it fit her, too, as she does personal shopping as her business, though not generally with bells and hip jewelry.

Moi, as "Cantara" with Kasuni, a caravan
guard, wondering what his future was.

At the bottom is a group shot of the folks who came to the event, and we all had a great time trying to solve the mystery of who killed the prince.

What was quite entertaining was that each person had a script and a few folks really took their roles very seriously (including Dr. Marschall, NP, as the character "Jinan" who claimed his herbs were miraculously healing stuff)!

Following the mystery event, everyone enjoyed a potluck dinner and some creative desserts. And there was a drumming circle which was pretty lively, but by then I was ready to head home for a quick refresher before going to a dance.

However, once I got home I received a message about the death of my son-in-law's sister and although it was expected, it did not feel to me like I wanted to go and dance and so I chose to be quiet, keeping my energy focused.

As 2016 came to an end, I realized that there had been many 'journeys' over some rough terrain at times, but I was not beset upon by thieves and charlatans, nor forced to beg for food in the marketplace and from time to time my palm was crossed with silver, so all in all, it was a pretty good year. But 2017 is going to be even better...

What can I say? People were tired of listening to the
fortuneteller giving them bad advice and putting them at
risk with the guards... could not get them to focus.

The Impotency of Waiting

My heart goes out to all the family and friends of the Malaysian Boeing aircraft identified as MH370 that disappeared in the early hours after take-off from Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia on March 8, 2014.

The news media hone in on the frustrated and vocally angry who want answers to what has happened to their loved ones.

Particularly for the men of those families, their impotence in being able to 'make something happen,' to change events, to force a better outcome, is anguishing to watch.

Long ago there was the Hindenburg which exploded upon approach to the docking station in Lakehurst, N.Y., and people were outraged at the mystery of what happened, wanting to find some evil force behind the act, someone to blame for their losses.

This new mystery, in an age of constant communication and surveillance, digs into our consciousness and lack of control of external events in our lives.

But even all these years past other mysterious aircraft disappearances, we are not emotionally advanced beyond demanding answers.

How can such a huge piece of equipment, state of the art in so many aspects, simply vanish? What are the elements of Fate and conditions which have coalesced to create this stunning, unbelievable situation?

As I am not an aeronautic engineer, only an older woman with a history of interest in aircraft, a frequent flyer years ago, and with a hobby of detecting (on several levels), here are my observations.

1) Although today's aircraft are impressive in size and speed and function, some of the devices for keeping track of them are sadly outdated. There are better tracking systems in some of the smart phones than in some of the planes.

2) Upgrading systems of tracking worldwide have not been a priority because much focus was put on upgrading security inside the aircraft, and in making more room for more seats to maximize transporting the cargo (that's you, folks).

3) Malaysia's aircraft were part of a regional growth in commercial air travel which has been huge in that part of the world and perhaps they put more attention into getting the equipment to provide transport and less on upgrades. Did they compromise maintenance so that some small failure led to a greater one?

4) While Malaysian authorities have done an absolutely phenomenal job of crisis communications (something I once was involved in), I challenge any other company or government to do as well with such an unprecedented event, and it serves as a reminder that there is no such thing as 'crisis management,' today, only preparing to communicate in surprising circumstances.

5) As long as we live, there are going to be unexpected events, and we cannot prepare for all of them. All we can do is develop our consciousness to be aware change is the only constant. This is no consolation for those who grieve, I know.

We are all impotent as we wait and hope for some explanation. Nothing is more frustrating than wanting to help and not being able to do anything. This we can do, we can send healing thoughts to all those for whom this situation is primary.

Cherry blossoms in March in Washington,
not in the east, but in the west.

And realize that for all our advancements in technology, there is still a vast level of knowledge and experience we have yet to discover.