susan
1. Life Is A Journey, But This Is A Trip: Medical Marijuana To Treat Migraines
That is not me, folks. I wouldn’t smoke cigarettes. I am on another journey in hopes of dealing with and managing ocular migraine. There are a couple of things going on so I will fill you in and perhaps you will find some information meaningful and pertinent for you or someone you know. In my quest to obliterate my migraines I have learned a good deal: they are not just headaches. They are unjust headaches which can manifest as: head pain (which, luckily I don’t deal with often and my lifelong headaches, since childhood, have diminished over the years from … Continue reading →
129. Mother-Daughter Journey: Hold The Rhetoric: “I Am Here For You”
Pardon me for sounding so very jaded but I think I have learned a lesson and perhaps I have learned it from my mother: don’t trust. I have always been the “trusting kind” and perhaps it is despite my mother’s very suspicious nature, however, she might have something there. From my last post: “Back to worry and desperation: I called the Entitlement Department again and was told they were ‘here for me.’ But, as much as they were here for me, the papers weren’t there for them-thar folks at the other agency. ” During the blizzard, when I had spoken … Continue reading →
homegalleryWeaver
Albums: My Life, My View: from thousands of slides taken over the years, scans of a few prints. Current work is digital. Click on the thumbnail, when the first photo appears, click on previous/next links below the photo to navigate through the album.
Continue reading →Rescued Kittens: 11-12 weeks old
Love Story: Biography bracelet for a friend
Family Photos from Cerebral Jukebox
An Evening with Rob Schwimmer
The New York Botanical Garden/The Orchard Show
Poetry: A Poem For My Sister
~The Sans Souci archives. Photos by dad, Jack Margulies addendum: to see the rewritten version for publication, scroll down to bottom. A Poem For My Sister ©12/7/08 I might have been 11, so you were 5 and under my care; mom worked. She brought home the groceries after a day at the dictaphone machine and the 90 words per minute typewriter, stepped out of her her high heels, and returned to 5 feet tall. She handed me five dollars and told me to take you to buy a birthday present. “OK, Ma, “ I think I dutifully answered. She must … Continue reading →