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Outta 'Arm's Way

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It's painful. And it's sore. It's so sore I spend washtime dabbing water on portions of my skin because if I shower properly, I end up crying with pain. It's inherited genetically. I remember Daddy telling me his started when he was 19. It went all over his entire body - including his face. He had the wet kind - weeping, they call it - on his face. He had to go to work every day like that. And he said he felt disgusting, like a leper. Until he took aloe vera tablets, which reduced his eczema to some kind of controllable level. It started when I was a kid. Behind the backs of my knees and in the crooks of my arms. Then it faded until I only had it occasionally on the elbow of my right arm. Last year, it flared up again. REALLY bad. On my arms. Then I went to America. It was bad when I arrived. Came back a little in Oregon due to the dryness of the air. But otherwise, it was cleared. I forgot I had ever had eczema. Then I came home. And started work.
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My Battle with Modesty

WARNING: I'm not sure about the appropriateness of this for guys...so if you think it's bad, stop reading. Okay? I read Jay Lauser’s excellent post on A New Kind of Modesty (which you really, really, really should read, though I won’t post it up seven times like my big sister C’rissie :P) yesterday, and thought I would like to blog my struggle and weakness in that area for...encouragement? General opinion? Not quite sure, although it certainly wasn’t out of self consideration. :P Then I read C’rissie’s post connected with Jay’s, A Rant on Modesty ;), which you can read here . And decided that I felt too embarrassed after reading that, because they were both so good and covered the ground enough, so I wouldn’t. Well, this morning, I changed my mind. (Although after rereading it again just, with all the comments, I feel quite small about posting this...*hits send before I rethink*) It’s not too often that I gain a victory over my worldliness to be happy in the clothes I’m weari
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Ayanna Priscilla

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Beleaguered with requests for photos, and having made promises to one or two people to blog on her - ie, Nick Holley and Jay Lauser , here is my promise fulfilled. I started on her birthday - November 10th, 2010, at 8:15pm. :P I finish today, the 22cd, at 1:00pm Smiling a little, I leaned down, tucking the quilt around my mother and kissing her cheek goodnight. Even as I silently moved across the room to tug off the lightswitch, she was still talking; drowsy, mumbling her words, but still talking. I've not seen Mom so verbal in ages. Although she was lacking 36 hours sleep, as soon as she had eaten her day-old homemade, reheated soup and drunk a cup of steaming, fragrant coffee, she sat there for ten minutes describing in vivid detail the birth of her latest grandchild - her first granddaughter. More amazing for me, I was sitting there with an inane grin spread over my face, highly excited over the recital, instead of landing in a heap on the floor! (I am useless with blood and gut
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