It’s Been Awhile…

I have not made a post since March 2019 and it is long overdue.

Since Facebook expanded the number of characters one could use when entering a post, the need for the “blog” was unnecessary. However, I have lost interest in social media which has more and more become UN-social media. I have begun to wonder if my posts were truly a reflection of my own thoughts, ideas and mental wanderings or were they simply parroted reactions influenced purely by the rage and discontent of the masses. Perhaps I had simply gotten lazy by posting links, emojis and shared responses.

While cleaning out my YouTube channel, I came across one post that referenced my blog. I had forgotten that I had done so many. It started me thinking that perhaps I should return to the written word instead of the gibberish of politicians with the attention span of a fish. Or news (should I say, talking heads) commentators with the objectivity of a prosperity preacher reviewing his own pleas for monetary gain as he boards his million dollar tour bus, then hops in his Jaguar to board his private jet to the “islands for a weekend retreat” to pray for his congregation that they may become more prosperous. WOW! It almost sounds like I am describing the elitist politicians that have recently descended upon us unlikely serfs with the all powerful phrase, “I am from the Government and am here to help you” when actually all they are here to do is line their numerous pockets with the hard earned feeble monetary gain we worked so hard to acquire. Then with all the flourish of Solomon ascending to his throne, they return a pittance to us and wait not so patiently for our obeisance at their feet and our eternal gratitude for their generosity.

YES! YES! YES!! I have missed using words! Thank you Mark Zuckerberg and that fellow at Tweeter for all the algorithms they do! They have been a blessing to me. I did not run and hide, howl at the moon, nor kneel screaming at the sun. I took my self-imposed sabbatical and decided to go back to what has served me best. It is the written word without the influences of the continual prophets of doom spewing their own version of toxic waste through the poorly written news articles and even more dreadful daily news shows.

I AM BACK!

“Experienced” Or Just Plain “Old”?

I’m old. The years tell it. The body reminds me daily. The mirror, well, the mirror does not lie to me either. I’ve seen some become offended at being called “old” and I have to giggle, maybe even LOL.

It’s all just semantics. One woman wants to live to 100. She is 50. Yet she complains about all the changes she is going through. The wrinkles, the memory glitches, hot flashes, walking into a room and forgetting why she is there, the failing eyesight, the morning aches and pains, the daytime aches and pains, and the nighttime aches and pains. She is doing this for what? Oh, I do not know. Maybe monetizing her posts or trying to be funny. She smiles occasionally. And she has a favorite word. I must confess that same word was my “go to” word when I was under 40. The occasional use of the “f” bomb still manages to drop from my lips and then I feel like an ass for not being able to say the same thing with much more pizzazz and eloquence while still projecting my deepest anger or hurt.

Getting old sucks sometimes, but then youth sucked some, too. Through all of life (good, bad and horrific) there was always that lingering thought that “this could not possibly be the best there is.”

At 42 I found out that I was right! This life here on Earth definitely is not all there is. It saddens me to know that far too many people believe that when humans die, that is it. That does not give life much of a purpose. It keeps us on the same level as animals. Our thoughts, desires, talents, aspirations, children and souls reduced to nothing by the mere belief in nothing. It reduces us to not much more than another invasive species like kudzu, dandelions and fire ants. Since we answer to no one, we are free to do as we please to or with whomever we please.

Stealing a penny or stealing billions; killing an unborn child or killing the elderly; throwing trash along the highway or burying gallons of toxic chemicals; none of it matters and one activity is no less damning than the other. One is no less sin than the other.

It all comes down to one point. Who is in charge. If man is in charge of everything, the universe is chaotic, drifting from one relativity to another. Up is down; down is up. Day is night; night is day. Right is wrong; wrong is right. Tomorrow may be different.

GOD, on the other hand, never changes. HE told humanity the only Rule on day one of humanity’s existence. Obey HIM. HE started with one explanatory rule. Do not eat from one specific tree, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. No other admonitions. No other rules. Adam knew the rule. But Adam stood there with Eve as she listened to the gossip of Satan posing as a serpent.

Adam knew better but listened to Eve. Eve knew better but listened to a talking serpent. GOD was left out of the equation. They had to leave their home and learn to do things the hard way. And humanity has been repeating the same mistake for thousands of years.

The Hebrew children who had witnessed the miracles first hand. They were able to leave Egypt with the spoils of the land while being freed from slavery. While Moses was talking to GOD and getting the Ten Commandments written by the finger of GOD, the Hebrew children were reclaiming their right to be stupid and insisted on worshiping a golden calf fashioned by the hands of Aaron, himself. They desired that the calf go before them as they returned to Egypt and slavery.

We have not learned a thing. Even if you do not believe in GOD you must admit that we do not learn from our own mistakes, much less the mistakes of others.

GOD, on the other hand, never changes. HE told humanity the only Rule on day one of humanity’s existence. Obey HIM. HE started with one explanatory rule. Do not eat from one specific tree, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. No other admonitions. No other rules. Adam knew the rule. But Adam stood there with Eve as she listened to the gossip of Satan posing as a serpent.

Adam knew better but listened to Eve. Eve knew better but listened to a talking serpent. GOD was left out of the equation. They had to leave their home and learn to do things the hard way. And humanity has been repeating the same mistake for thousands of years.

The Hebrew children who had witnessed the miracles first hand. They were able to leave Egypt with the spoils of the land while being freed from slavery. While Moses was talking to GOD and getting the Ten Commandments written by the finger of GOD, the Hebrew children were reclaiming their right to be stupid and insisted on worshiping a golden calf fashioned by the hands of Aaron, himself. They desired that the calf go before them as they returned to Egypt and slavery.

We have not learned a thing. Even if you do not believe in GOD you must admit that we do not learn from our own mistakes, much less the mistakes of others.

I Have Lost It, Or Have I?

I have lost it. I need to find it.
It was very useful at one time.
Took up so little space.
I really do need to find it.

It was filled with remarkable things.
Things of wonder and things of grandeur.
Dreams I think they are called.
I really do need to find it.

At times it feels almost … within reach.
A flicker …. A whisper of a memory.
But, it is not really gone even though
It cannot be found …. among the ruins ….

It was in a space not really big nor terribly small.
It still holds the years that have long since departed.
What have I lost that evades the finding?
My youthful mind that soared so free.

The mind that told me I could do great things.
The mind that told me I could change the world.
Has it really gone? Has it really departed?
Or did I simply ignore what it told me and trampled it soundly beneath a life of mediocrity?

Are We “woke” Enough Yet?

It is only when we truly awaken to our folly that we open our eyes to truth. I heard someone say regarding the “Land O Lakes” logo on the butter that “true to form, they got rid of the Indian and kept the land”. Isn’t that true with all the rest of the supposedly ‘woke culture’ logo rehabs? They are ridding the shelves and the world of ‘offensive’ logos (Uncle Ben, Aunt Jemima, the Red Skins, and the rest) while “keeping the land”. Who is really the racist in all of this foolishness? Who is ridding America of the black and brown indicators of success? Who is trying to absorb womanhood into an amorphous sludge of existence?

The left, the Marxists, the progressives (should be REgressives); call them what you will, they are simply trying to merge us into one single brownish grey soup with no individual identity. We will not be male nor female. We will have no ethnicity. We will have no religion. We will belong to the government and think as we are told. We will not fail, nor will we succeed. We will not be unhappy, nor will we be happy. We will not be slaves to government, nor will we be free.

That is not what it means to be free. That is what it means to have equity. Everyone is equally miserable except for the elites.

THAT is NOT what GOD meant us to be!

What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up? Part 1

Is that really the best question to ask? It seems to be too broad and too narrow at the same time. I think that is what is known as a dichotomy, both in the social sense as well as the practical.

When I was very young I wanted to be a teacher. School was my refuge and teachers were my heroines. I trusted them and understood my boundaries. What followed was a list of noble professions, stewardess, nurse, writer, violinist and, of course, princess. As I grew into the teen years, my art started growing and I wanted to be an artist, then a commercial artist. When I passed the audition for the high school choir, singing emerged as a slight possibility. My singing was fair, not great. I was actually shocked when I was accepted.

High school was the one place that gave me a hint at what I might be good at. Aptitude tests (and I took a bunch) were supposed to give the guidance counselor and ultimately me areas in which I excelled and would lead me to be a productive member of society by steering me into meaningful employment which I would be good at and enjoy. Princess was not one of those. Nor was artist, stewardess, writer or violinist. Medical technologist stood out. And thus my path was chosen. Or so it seemed.

I did not truly excel at anything. My grades were good (B’s and A’s) which put me in the top 25% of my class not the top 1%. I was a member of the Beta Club, not the Honor Society. And there was no true passion about anything except leaving home. That I wanted to do really, really badly.

The problem with that was going to become very obvious when I was finally ordered out of the house. Passion without direction is disastrous. Lack of direction itself is the beginning of that recipe for disaster. I mean, how does one look for employment in a strange town?

So that day finally came when they told me “you have to go!” I do not remember being particularly upset or fearful. I had $65.00 and a suitcase. I packed. I counted my money. I walked out the door. My journey began.

To Drive or Not To Drive ….

That is THE question. If we live long enough, we reach that point when the question becomes reality. Unfortunately, for some the reality comes at the point of impact.

As we age our reflexes slow. Our thought processes begin to wander. Our short term memory becomes erratic. Lapses in memory that, when we were young, were humorous are becoming more problematic, not humorous at all. Our livelihood is diminished. We become more dependent upon others. It is simply the natural progression of things.

Or, more aptly, the natural decay or decline of humanity. The reality of what is happening is painfully obvious. Just look in the mirror. The wrinkles. The sagging skin. The greying or white hair. The love handles that truly are not. The prescription meds for high blood pressure, diabetes, thyroid problems, COPD, and the bottles, they do stack up. Oh, and we stumble more.

The 60’s start us considering impending retirement. We have started feeling life or the lack thereof just a bit more. But there’s still time to think about those things later. Truth is we should have started thinking about those things at age 30 not age 60.

The 70’s bring their own special brand of crazy as everything gets just a tiny bit worse. Just add a leaky bladder, farts that are surprisingly not farts, swelling feet, ankles, calves and knees, as well as the stomach that has decided it does not like anything it used to find just yummy and comfy. The taste buds seemed to have left town with the teeth.

The 80’s introduce us to the walker or rollerater. They keep us steady if they are fitted properly to our height and weight. They keep us slightly bent forward and remind us we are less than ….

We are less than what we were and the one place we are fully accepted is that warehouse. Heaven’s waiting room?! Where the dead go to die?! The nursing home, of course. Thinking about it like that does not endear it to our heart.

The 90’s brings more of the same only more intense. The memory has faded. The body is failing. Getting up requires effort. A lot of effort. Waking brings on the, “Oh, my! I’m still here” response. Or something equally repulsive.

At this point, if one is still driving, it begs the question, “How?” We all know why. Driving is freedom. It’s the last vestige of “I’m still viable and alive!” We can get up and still go. We are not dead yet. There are still places to go. People to see and to be seen.

We tend to think more about the hereafter and the here for. We do wonder what we are here for. I mean if I can not do the things I did nor be who I was. What good am I really. The hereafter cannot be ignored as it must be faced by us all.

If there is no relationship with the Creator then there is little reason to be in the here or in the hereafter. But that is the subject of many more discussions.

Back to driving. When do we need to stop driving? When we reach a certain age, or when we reach a certain level of disability? To be frank, disability is probably the way to go. Failing eyesight is the first indicator. If you cannot see, you cannot navigate. Manual dexterity limitations inhibit turning the steering wheel, just as muscle atrophy limits how quickly you can move your foot from the accelerator to the gas or how well you can look behind the car as you back up.

Perhaps if we were not so afraid of the unknown, of death itself, we would not be quite so fearful of the aging (decaying) process. The only way to lose fear of the unknown is to get to know it. Get to know the only One Who can be in control of both life and death.

It Has Been A Long 8 Months

And it appears there will be more long months ahead. It is my task to “take care of” a 94 year old man who has no family to care for him. It is not a really bad situation, as situations go. There is little monetary gain from it. There is no pay nor hope of grand inheritance.

So why? It is not something that I really wanted to do. It is something I was lead to do. GOD truly does work in mysterious ways. Other than that fact, there would be no reason for me to be there. No reason to cook, clean house, prepare for visitors, and no reason to travel a thousand miles to do all that.

There is a relationship but I hesitate to elaborate simply because it is not so much complicated as it is just plain weird.

Most people know who their parents are by familial knowledge passed down through legal documents, adoption papers, and plain old word of mouth.

Who is your Daddy, really? Is he simply one prime wiggler that made it to the promised land? Or is it time spent doing ‘daddy things’ over an extended period of time? Some combination of the two? Maybe something entirely different?

At this point, being a grandmother myself, I thought I would have it all figured out. Well, I do not and at this point, how to proceed is still up for grabs. It will also be another chapter in life.

See you then. 🙄

Staring at the Screen or Whatever For?

And no, I do not know why I am sitting here, wondering why I am sitting here. I just keyed in a string of ambiguous nonsense, so there must be something simmering in that grey matter called my brain or that reddish muscular pumping organ called my heart.

It is a bit sad to know that simply moments ago, these magnificent ideas for a blog post were rushing out of my mind and cascading into an abyss never to be heard from …. again …. well, maybe not until I am in heavy traffic with no way to write or at 3:13 in the morning when I rapidly dismiss thoughts and ideas in order to make it to the bathroom in time.

Speaking of 3:00 in the morning. That is a time that frequently awakens me. I read somewhere a bunch of years ago that that time is the best time to pray. It was an article in a magazine. A magazine is one of those paper things we used to hold in our hands, turn pages and read from. That explanation is for all of you who are under 20 and never held a comic book.

The internet is fascinating but I do miss my dependence upon books. Those trips to the library to do research on whatever topic inspired me to write, read or just waste time were cherished, particularly when I was a teenager and needed an excuse to leave the house. The library was it. It was a place of adventure. Columns of books. Thousands of them. And I could touch them all. I could escape in my mind with no one knowing where I was going.

The internet, on the other hand, with its cookies and trackers, hackers and predators, as well as all the other monsters out there in cyberspace, knows not only who you are, but where you have been and an algorithm has already plotted out where you are probably going and where you will shop along the way. I am not particularly fond of it. But ….

Yes, but, you can easily self-publish a book. Write things in blogs that other people read and find out things that, left on your own, you probably never really wanted to know anyway.

And this ends my therapy session for now. Besides, I have nothing left to say. Not right now, anyway. Find something constructive to do with your time. Visit a library. And read a book.

Prayers and GOD BLESS!!

Have You Reached Your Limit?

Few of us

I started this post on November 18, 2017 and the above is as far as I got.  I guess I had reached my limit that day.  And I am bound to reach my limit just as quickly today.  Today is Thursday.  It is trash day.  It is the day that the church people come with the weekly meal.  It is the day after Wednesday and the day before Friday.  It is Thursday.

When do you know you have reached your limit?  It varies, does it not?  When eating or drinking anything, your body should let you know when that limit is reached.  Running or any type of physical activity will let your body notify you when you have reached your limit.  It is the mental stress activities that we seem unable to read the signs that say, “Enough.”   It is only when some garbled version of “ENOUGH!” is shouting, no screaming at us to stop when we even slow down enough to think about what is going on.

Any event in our life can become consuming of our time and thought processes.  Only when those around say silly things like, “You look like you need a break!” do we even consider that really might be the case.  When friends, sometimes even acquaintances, start offering to help you take a break, you definitely NEED a break!

From October 2000 to April 2001 I helped out my Mom after she was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.  I flew her home with me from the hospital.  At the time I was staying with my mother-in-law who did not want to go into a nursing home.  I took my Mom to Chemo treatments and days when she did not have one, I worked in the office.  I held a full time job and took care of both of them and thought nothing of it.  It was not stressful.  It all had to be done and it was all working.  It actually worked better with both of them there because they kept each other company.

It was not until after my Mom went back home that things kind of started falling apart.  My mother-in-law had no one to talk to while I was working and she did things she ought not do.  That is when the stress set in and she decided to leave her own home to get away from me.  I find that somewhat humorous now.  Back then it was just a relief.  Her companion was gone.  She was lonely.  And I, well, I was me.  I was the “wicked bitch of the south” constantly on her about her diet, about feeding my overweight dog, and a thousand other things I just had to bring up.  I had reached my limit and no one could see the signs well enough to tell me.  If they did, it was a case of “Not me! I’m not saying nothin’!”

Far too often, we have to be the one to say when it is time for a break.  We have to be an adult and admit that we do not have super powers.  We have to say “GOD, I need a break.  Please show me how to admit to myself that I do not have the responsibility of the World upon my shoulders.”

We are after all just human.  Man or woman, we can only do so much.  Sometimes we can do more, but this time we need a break.

Today is Wednesday

Some day I will die. That is just a fact of life. Fairy tales about people living forever or being immortal here on Earth do not ring true with me. No, I am not sick and suffering from some dread disease. What I am is an old realist. No matter how hard we try, we cannot outrun the inevitable.

Shortly after my son learned to walk we got a harness for him and used it when we took him out with us. He was able to run free for about four feet, but we still had control of him. There was not much he could do without us reining him in.

My relationship with GOD is much like that. Scripture tells us that HE will never leave us nor forsake us. I believe HIM, HIS Word, everything. There are things that I do not fully understand, some that totally elude my feeble mind. But like my son who believed me, I believe GOD. GOD has me tethered to HIM. I can stray, but not too far. If I pull against the tether long enough I can stretch it just a bit and wiggle my toes near the fire of disobedience. That is when the tug on the tether reminds me I have gone too far. If my toes get burned bad enough, HE will, like any good Father, take me to HIS home permanently. Earthly fathers cannot do anything permanent but GOD can and does. Fear not the one who can only kill the body but, definitely fear THE ONE who can kill both body and soul.

May 1-3, 1971 vs January 6, 2022

I worked in Washington District of Columbia in the United States of America for several years. The building I worked in was at the 1700 block of K Street. We were told that despite the anti-war demonstrations within DC we were required to report to work and on time. Calling in sick was not an option.

Riding into DC that Monday on my regular bus was not a problem. When the bus stopped is when the unthinkable happened. A police officer tossed a tear gas canister under the bus in order to slow down people exiting the bus. We were all in danger of being arrested. All for going to work. Detained from the bus, was any young man who had long hair. The rest of us simply stumbled away from the bus trying to see through the tears to get to our jobs. About 15 feet from the bus was a couple (obviously hippies) who had a table set up with literature about tear gas and how to take care of yourself. I took a leaflet and a damp tissue and made my way to the office.

When I made it home that evening, the news reports that as many as 23,000 people (supposed demonstrators) were arrested and detained at the Kennedy Stadium where the Redskins played football. People who worked in DC were detained simply because they “looked like they should be arrested”. The mail guy in our offices was detained for several days. He said they did not ask him any questions, they just grabbed him before he entered the building to go to work. He was just feet away from work when he was caught.

The estimated number of “protestors” was about 40,000. They said what they would do and did it. They drove junk cars onto the roads going into DC, parked them, took the keys out and jammed up every road coming into DC in basically that manner. They did not storm DC with guns blazing.

Non-participating citizens who were arrested and had need of insulin or other medications were denied access to even call someone much less obtain medical attention. The city was standing firm and not backing down. Those people were in DC so they must be GUILTY. No, most were just trying to go to work like they were told to do by their employers.

On January 6, 2022 I was watching TV while the million or so folks were marching down the street. And just like in 1971, it was no surprise that a large crowd of people would be there. It was, after all President Trump supporters who would be there. He always drew large numbers of supporters to his rallies as well as a few pinheads, protestors and other nitwits. So, instead of beefing up security and calling in the National Guard as President Trump suggested to Nancy Pelosi and the Mayor of DC it almost seemed like they had Law Enforcement take a holiday. Were they hoping something would happen that could be blamed on a certain someone?

The Mock Jan 6 Trial, the raid of Mar-a-Lago, political supporters being rounded up and put in jail all seems just a bit too familiar. I learned about it in World History Class as well as American History Class. I have also watched it unfold in Venezuela and other parts of the world in more recent history.

Politics suck. Especially when it runs rampant over the Constitution of the United States of America. It is extremely difficult to even say that the Justice system is equally applied as it should be when murderers, rapists and terrorists roam free while they spend billions of dollars desperately trying to convict one orange haired man and make his family’s and friends’ lives a living hell simply because they hate him. Donald J. Trump did something in two years that those pompous fools in Congress could not do in the past 50 years, he worked for and defended the people who put him in office.

And this is my opinion. You may believe something else.