March 8th, 2004

Cut cuddle and be Cute

Shot in the foot

Well, the injection seems to have gone well. Although when the doctor was doing one of the injections, he most have hit a nerve head on or something because it litterally felt like he was injecting fire into my foot. I'm pretty numb right now, and I'm trying to be careful of how I walk. I'm kind of tired. I think I'll sleep well. I had a conference call yesterday for the NABS convention planning committee. That was good, but I ended up staying up really late. And with the pain relief I feel right now, I should be doing fine for sleep.
Hugs!
Nickie
  • Current Music
    Sing to Jesus Fernando Ortega
Cut cuddle and be Cute

Song

I called into my "big sister" on ACBRI. She played this for me:
Family Hands
Last Sunday we got in the car and we drove
To the town you were raised in, your boyhood home
The trees were just turning, up on the ridge
And this was your valley when you were a kid

You showed me the railroad that your daddy worked on
As we neared the old house where your granny lives on
She's nearing ninety years now, with her daughters by her side
Who tend the places in the heart where loneliness can hide

CHORUS:
Raised by the women who are stronger than you know
A patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewn
The threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the moth
By your mother and her mother, the weavers of your cloth

Your grandmother owned a gun in 1932
When times were bad just everywhere, you said she used it too
And the life and times of everyone are traced inside their palms
Her skin may be so weathered, but her grip is still so strong
And I see your eyes belong to her and too your mama too
A slice of Virginia sky, the clearest shade of blue

CHORUS

And a rich man you might never be, they'd love you just the same
They've handed down so much to you besides your Christian name
And the spoken word won't heal you like the laying on of hands
Belonging to the ones who raised you to a man

CHORUSFamily Hands
Last Sunday we got in the car and we drove
To the town you were raised in, your boyhood home
The trees were just turning, up on the ridge
And this was your valley when you were a kid

You showed me the railroad that your daddy worked on
As we neared the old house where your granny lives on
She's nearing ninety years now, with her daughters by her side
Who tend the places in the heart where loneliness can hide

CHORUS:
Raised by the women who are stronger than you know
A patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewn
The threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the moth
By your mother and her mother, the weavers of your cloth

Your grandmother owned a gun in 1932
When times were bad just everywhere, you said she used it too
And the life and times of everyone are traced inside their palms
Her skin may be so weathered, but her grip is still so strong
And I see your eyes belong to her and too your mama too
A slice of Virginia sky, the clearest shade of blue

CHORUS

And a rich man you might never be, they'd love you just the same
They've handed down so much to you besides your Christian name
And the spoken word won't heal you like the laying on of hands
Belonging to the ones who raised you to a man

CHORUS