This picture reminds me of the view you get when driving east on US Rte. 33 from I-79 in West Virginia. Scenic vistas are around every bend and can be seen from every hill, and I always feel my pulse quicken when I realize how close I am getting to Elkins, site of the
Augusta Heritage Center where I vacation every summer. Only this year, my vacation is in serious doubt due to financial constraints, and the idea of not going sends me into a deep depression. I keep trying to figure out ways to afford it and still stay somewhat afloat financially, but no matter how many times I sit down and budget it out, it just doesn't add up. I can feel my stress level rising when I think of how tight my money's gotten when I know darn well that I haven't been spending it on anything but bills, gas and health care costs. I get so angry when I know darn well that a great deal of the mess we find ourselves in lately in this country is due largely in part to the massive subprime mortgage meltdown. That was caused by a lack of oversight into shaky investment schemes meant to bilk potential home buyers out of their hard earned cash. It makes me sick to think of what the fallout has been throughout the entire financial sector of the economy. That, in turn, has hit us consumers in virtually every aspect of our lives, meaning that there's been no escape from the economic woes that all of this has caused. I can't help but feel depressed every time I listen to the radio or read the newspapers over what has happened this year, and to add to all that, I got an e-mail this morning from my friend Peg Loyd
(below) that she's been diagnosed with colo-rectal cancer. Very fortunately for her, she's only in Stage 1, which has an excellent cure rate, so she's more than likely to make a complete and full recovery, but still......the word "cancer" can scare anyone, even though treatments are a lot better now than they used to be even just a few years ago. I met Peg at Augusta and she says in her e-mail that she's still going to be there next week despite her diagnosis, as she begins treatment as soon as she returns home. I would love to be able to see her and give her a big hug and tell her that we, her friends, are there for her. There is a core of us who, over the years, have been coming to Irish Week and have gotten to be like family since we come each year and share our triumphs and sorrows. I want so much to see these people again and be with them and to enjoy their company and sing and play with them for the next week. It lifts my spirit like nothing else I know of, and it fuels my latent creative spirit that seems to hide from me all year except when I go to Elkins. There is a certain magic there that I can tap into that I can't the rest of the year that brings out the most creative aspects of me. So the idea of not being able to go would be almost more than I could bear. I've got to make a decision in the next few days as to whether or not to go down there, as I've got to register in that time frame as well. Irish Week starts on Sunday of next week and time's a-wasting. I've never been good at decision making and now that I am faced with such a difficult decision, quite frankly, I just don't know what to do. My heart says one thing, my head another, and I can't reconcile either one with the other. I want to see Peg and the rest of the gang and spend a week with my annual "Irish Week" family. But I also want to build up my savings enough not to have to worry as much as I have been of late. I want them both, frankly, and if only I could "have my cake and eat it, too", I'd be more than a relaxed and happy camper. But it looks like fate isn't about to let things work my way. And that has me stressed beyond belief.
This picture reminds me of the view you get when driving east on US Rte. 33 from I-79 in West Virginia. Scenic vistas are around every bend and can be seen from every hill, and I always feel my pulse quicken when I realize how close I am getting to Elkins, site of the Augusta Heritage Center where I vacation every summer. Only this year, my vacation is in serious doubt due to financial constraints, and the idea of not going sends me into a deep depression. I keep trying to figure out ways to afford it and still stay somewhat afloat financially, but no matter how many times I sit down and budget it out, it just doesn't add up. I can feel my stress level rising when I think of how tight my money's gotten when I know darn well that I haven't been spending it on anything but bills, gas and health care costs. I get so angry when I know darn well that a great deal of the mess we find ourselves in lately in this country is due largely in part to the massive subprime mortgage meltdown. That was caused by a lack of oversight into shaky investment schemes meant to bilk potential home buyers out of their hard earned cash. It makes me sick to think of what the fallout has been throughout the entire financial sector of the economy. That, in turn, has hit us consumers in virtually every aspect of our lives, meaning that there's been no escape from the economic woes that all of this has caused. I can't help but feel depressed every time I listen to the radio or read the newspapers over what has happened this year, and to add to all that, I got an e-mail this morning from my friend Peg Loyd
(below) that she's been diagnosed with colo-rectal cancer. Very fortunately for her, she's only in Stage 1, which has an excellent cure rate, so she's more than likely to make a complete and full recovery, but still......the word "cancer" can scare anyone, even though treatments are a lot better now than they used to be even just a few years ago. I met Peg at Augusta and she says in her e-mail that she's still going to be there next week despite her diagnosis, as she begins treatment as soon as she returns home. I would love to be able to see her and give her a big hug and tell her that we, her friends, are there for her. There is a core of us who, over the years, have been coming to Irish Week and have gotten to be like family since we come each year and share our triumphs and sorrows. I want so much to see these people again and be with them and to enjoy their company and sing and play with them for the next week. It lifts my spirit like nothing else I know of, and it fuels my latent creative spirit that seems to hide from me all year except when I go to Elkins. There is a certain magic there that I can tap into that I can't the rest of the year that brings out the most creative aspects of me. So the idea of not being able to go would be almost more than I could bear. I've got to make a decision in the next few days as to whether or not to go down there, as I've got to register in that time frame as well. Irish Week starts on Sunday of next week and time's a-wasting. I've never been good at decision making and now that I am faced with such a difficult decision, quite frankly, I just don't know what to do. My heart says one thing, my head another, and I can't reconcile either one with the other. I want to see Peg and the rest of the gang and spend a week with my annual "Irish Week" family. But I also want to build up my savings enough not to have to worry as much as I have been of late. I want them both, frankly, and if only I could "have my cake and eat it, too", I'd be more than a relaxed and happy camper. But it looks like fate isn't about to let things work my way. And that has me stressed beyond belief.
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