Another Way To End A Relationship

The woman was remembering the many times she had been there for her daughter. There was never a choice. Nothing her daughter did would be bad enough to desert her. Not when she was a child of many moods and not when she was a woman with her own child. Admittedly, there were times of distance. For many reasons. Not all of them caused by the woman. The child/woman was loved at all times by the woman/mother.

The woman and her new boyfriend drove to the daughter's house so the woman could deliver a birthday gift to the daughter. The daughter knew she was coming. There was no answer to the doorbell, so the woman walked around the house on the sidewalk to the back door, tried the handle, went inside. The TV was on in the den. No sign of anyone at home downstairs. The woman called out. No answer. So the woman left the prettily wrapped package on the dining room table and retraced her steps around to the car in the driveway. In the car about fifteen minutes later, the woman called the daughter. The daughter answered immediately, and said she had been home. She and her husband and their two children had run upstairs and were quiet so the woman wouldn't know they were home. The daughter sounded like this was quite a lark. The woman said she was disappointed not to see the daughter and was confused as to why the daughter would hide from her.

A few months later, the woman drove again to visit the daughter and her family. This time the woman was alone. The boyfriend did not go with her. This visit was also confusing to the woman. The daughter did not sit to talk with her mother nor did her family. The woman sat in the den waiting for some or all of them to come and visit with her. Some of their friends stopped by and they were introduced to the woman and then they all went outside to visit by their friends' car, with a casual comment from the daughter to the woman that they would be back inside soon. An hour later the woman picked up her things and walked outside where the daughter and her family was talking with their friends and told them all good bye. The woman cried on the way home, trying to pay attention to her driving, but unable to still the sound of her heart pulsating like war drums.

One more phone conversation after that encounter clarified the extent of the damage between the woman and her daughter. The woman had "yet another boyfriend and the daughter did not want it to be confusing to her children to see the woman with another man". The woman dared to speak up, which turned out to be unacceptable to the daughter. The woman explained that there had been a divorce from a husband, then four years without men except two men friends to attend movies and sports activities with and a few dates with one other man. And then the brazen woman asked what difference it would make if there were many men, how would it become her business to issue limits on a subject that was not the daughter's life.

That was the beginning of the end of that relationship. The woman moved in with her boyfriend and after two years together the woman and her boyfriend were married. The daughter was not notified of the wedding as emails and phone messages were not returned by the daughter.

Two years later after sporadic attempts to reconcile with the daughter, the woman mailed a letter to the daughter attempting to make amends and left a final voice message asking the daughter to return the call. A week later the woman received a letter in the mail instructing the woman not to attempt to contact the daughter again and not to attempt to contact the daughter's children as they also do not want to have anything to do with the woman.

Interestingly, the woman sees the direct communication in the letter as a sign that the daughter is emotionally healthy because she was a strong person and able to say exactly what she wanted in clear terms. Many adults have difficulty stating what they want for fear of conflict.

From the woman's viewpoint, there is not a reason substantial enough to warrant extreme exclusion. However, the woman understands that however the daughter came to believe she did not want the woman in her life, a decision had been made. It is a final conclusion. The relationship is ended.

Is Your Love Tank Full?

My husband's therapist suggested my husband read a book titled "The Five Love Languages". So hubby located the book online and ordered it. When the book was delivered a few days later, hubby read the book. He left it on the coffee table and one day I said "Maybe I'll read this Luuuuuv Book", and hubby's eyes sparkled as he said "Okay".

Well, I flew through that book. And I learned so much about hubby and what he would like in a relationship. I also learned what I want which is something I had not been able to articulate or imagine accurately.

The great thing about this book is it is NOT a book about me (the reader). In the past I had read some books on relationships with the slant on what do I get out of this, or what is he doing wrong, or why can't he read my mind. But this book helped me to see things from my husband's perspective. I began to see more clearly how he was raised in a house with little hugging and closeness. I am a mother and I raised three kids so I understand how three people being raised in the same house can get different signals and can feel differently about their upbringing. My husband has a brother and a younger sister. But what I was learning as I read was what it was like for my husband, how he truly felt as a boy, and how important hugging, holding, touching is to him. Reading about filling his love tank meant more to me than devouring the book to find out how I can get my love tank filled. That was a total eye opener for me to care more about him than about me.

What did I discover is the thing that fills my love tank? Quality time. And quality time is just that: Time shared with the person you love, caring, eye contact, talking, laughing, crying, walking, biking, or whatever the activity. No cell phone interruptions. No eyes rolling or shrugs. No hint of impatience. Just devoted time to be with the person you care for. It may be ten minutes or an hour. But it is genuine and given freely and happily.

Is my love tank full? At least it's not empty and sometimes it gets close to maximum.

Top Gun Anthem

Click on the video. Gets the juices flowing.

Marriage Enrichment Poem

A wonderful poem titled "Marriage" was the inspiration for this post. Margie at "When The Heart Speaks" has given me permission to share her poem on my blog. Thank you, Margie.

"Marriage is an instrument
designed to be played upon
by twenty fingers, and which,
when tuned with delicate precision
by human love and empathy,
is capable of exalting souls
and moving mountains; however,
the music is composed by two artists,
the songs are sung by two mouths
and the martial concert is directed
by two conductors;
thus the longed-for-achievement
of perfect harmony demands
a deliberate and calculated
double self-sacrifice,
that from this union of two
there may arise
perfect oneness."

Marriage is a special subject for me. And this poem awakened my intense passion for the commitment of two people making choices to enhance and adhere to the sacred bond of togetherness. Everything in this poem audibly describes the joint effort of two lovers to achieve oneness. Our eyes and ears are not solely for the beloved, we drive to jobs and talk to other people, but our hearts are reserved unquestionably for the specific person chosen by the intense joy in loving someone unconditionally.

Communal Solar/Neighbors Sharing Energy Source

An article in Scientific American titled "Can Rooftop Solar Systems Serve Whole Neighborhoods?" prompts some interesting discussion.

"Collective bargaining is a good strategy when looking to get the best price on a given product or service. Solar power is no exception, and dozens of neighborhood-wide installations in the U.S. and Canada have created a new model whereby going solar can actually start to pencil out for individual homeowners.

One of the first neighborhood-wide solar installations in the world was at the master-planned community of Drake Landing in the town of Okotoks in Alberta, Canada. The entire community, now with more than 50 homes built and occupied, is heated by a neighborhood-wide “borehole thermal energy” system designed to store abundant solar energy underground during the summer and distribute it to each home as needed for space heating throughout the winter. The system, which launched in June 2007, now fulfills some 90 percent of each home’s space heating needs, with any slack taken up by fossil fuels.

While some planned communities like Drake Landing incorporated neighborhood solar power from the get-go, others decided it made sense after they were first built. One example is the deal that homeowners in Marin County, California can get in on, thanks to the hard work of the nonprofit GoSolarMarin. The group negotiated discounted group rates with several photovoltaic solar panel providers, and eventually signed on with SolarCity, a Silicon Valley based solar provider that operates some 30 different “community solar programs” across California, Arizona and Oregon.

GoSolarMarin was able to negotiate a rate some 25 percent lower than what a typical solar installation would cost for Marin County residents willing to participate. And best of all, homeowners can lease from SolarCity instead of having to pay tens of thousands of dollars out of pocket to buy equipment that may become obsolete in a few years. SolarCity monitors all clients’ installations online to ensure that they are running at peak performance, and also makes house calls for maintenance as needed."


We know solar energy saves money. We know it can be shared in communities. What we don't know is why every community doesn't use solar power for the main source of energy.

A True Weiner Dog

Found this on Holy Cuteness.

Nothing can be said really. The picture says it all.
This is one of the cutest pictures I have ever seen.
Maybe because I love animals so much. Isn't this a darling puppy?

Scrumptious.

Awwwwwwwwwww.

One of the Ways To End A Relationship

The man was in his late 50's. He and his fiance and their dog were enjoying a peaceful evening of background music and light dinner. The man heard footsteps on the front porch and opened the door before the visitors had a chance to knock. Two male sheriff deputies were on the porch with papers to serve the man. The legal documents were a summons to appear in family court the next month. There were papers explaining a restraining order that had been filed by the man's daughter. The end of a father-daughter relationship had begun.

What prompted this drastic action was a visit to the daughter's apartment the previous month. The man and his fiance had loaded their car with groceries and small gifts and drove one and a half hours to have some time with the daughter. The man cooked lunch and his fiance cut the daughter's hair. Quality time with the daughter was the object of the visit. The five year old grandson was not to be outdone this day nor on any previous visits. He was determined to control all the adults at all times. His mother attempted to ply him with his favorite movie which meant a half hour of adult conversation before the grandson demanded attention. The grandson was shown love by all three adults. The grandson was certainly loved. But the grandson would whine and complain about not liking his food so his mother fixed something else he said he wanted and then he did not want that either. He continually yelled at his mother and then proceeded to punch her, and then kick her, and then he jumped on her when she was sitting on the floor and knocked her over. Then he grabbed her breasts and pinched them. All this time the grandson was hurting his mother and she was requesting him to not hurt her. The man and his fiance were shocked into inability to do anything other than to try to speak reasonably to the grandson about not hurting his mother. You see, the reason the man and his fiance wanted to have a day to pamper the mother was because she had learned she had a brain tumor. This was the man's only child and he hurt for his grown child.

It became obvious that after three hours it would be impossible to visit, and it became more difficult to watch the grandson literally beat on his mother, so the man and his fiance bid their good byes and headed to the car for the one and a half hour drive home. On the way home, the man asked his fiance for her opinion of the grandson's behavior and it was agreed that it was very disturbing to witness such crude cruel manhandling by the grandson upon his mother. It hurt the man so much that he instant messaged his daughter from the car on the way home and told her that it was disturbing to watch his grandson hurting her and that the father would like a few days with his grandson to teach him how to behave.

This request was not taken kindly by the daughter. For the rest of the day there were a few emails and text messages back and forth between father and daughter but there were no threats or any unkind words or rants.

When the sheriff served papers on the man it was unexpected. The man spent the next two days writing an answer to the summons and mailed it to the court but not to the daughter as the man was obeying the restraining order by not contacting his daughter in any way. The day of the court hearing the man and his fiance took off work and drove the hour and a half to where the hearing was scheduled. The judge listened to the daughter and to the man in a closed courtroom. And then the judge granted the five year restraining order.

In his response to the court the man had written that he would not fight the order nor would he do anything to disobey that order and that as far as he was concerned the restraining order should be forever. The things that were told to the judge by the daughter were fiction. The man did not attempt to correct any allegations. He remained quiet and calm. When the daughter read the letter that the man had sent to the judge, the daughter cried. When the judge asked why she was crying, the daughter said it was so sad that her dad did not want to see her or her son. She could not have it both ways, try to hurt her father with the elaborate ruse of the fear for the life of her son and then still want her father to see his grandson. She had started this whole fiasco because she was not willing to see the abuse she was subjected to by her son and she did not want anyone telling her that her son needed training on how to behave to her and to others. No one was going to harm her son. It was the other way around, her son was harming her.

There are many ways to end a relationship. A court order is one of them. This particular manner of ending a relationship was extreme, but it was final.

Nerdy Eyeglasses Or Not, I Want Some

For most of my life I wore contact lenses. And half of that time I wore only one contact lens. Yeah, I was a prime candidate for mono vision. One lens to correct for distance and one eye without correction that blends with the contact in the other eye for close up work. It worked great for me for so many years.

And then I turned 60. O.M.G.

I couldn't see a thing up close. Computer work suffered. My jobs involved computers so I was under pressure to find something right away to correct the new sight situation. I saw an optometrist and started using two contacts. No more mono vision. That did not help much. So I ordered glasses. A pair of bifocals and also a pair of glasses for distance only and a pair of glasses for computer and reading. So I have been juggling these glasses for two years now.

You can imagine my delight when I read this article in the New York Times:

"Dr. Stephen Kurtin, 64, has spent almost 20 years of his career on a quest to create a better pair of spectacles for people who suffer from presbyopia — the condition that affects almost everyone over the age of 40 as they progressively lose the ability to focus on close objects. The glasses have a tiny adjustable slider on the bridge of the frame that makes it possible to focus alternately on the page of a book, a computer screen or a mountain range in
distance."

Now we're getting somewhere!!

"After many false turns and dead ends, he has succeeded in creating glasses with a mechanically adjustable focus. He says they are better than other glasses and some forms of Lasik surgery. This month, TruFocals, the company he founded three years ago, has begun selling its first adjustable focusing eyeglasses through a small group of optometrists and will soon sell directly online. The TruFocals eyeglasses, which sell for $895, are the first to become commercially available in the United States."

Uh Oh, $895!!???? Yikes.

"The glasses consist of a lens that is comparable in thickness to that of commercial eyeglasses, but which has three components: a back glass, a fluid-filled inner membrane that is essentially a piece of plastic-wrap-like material stretched across a ring whose surface curvature can be altered mechanically, and an outer prescription lens attached with magnets to the eyeglass frame. To change the focus, the user moves the slider on the bridge.

The TruFocals lens must be round to ensure that the curvature of the interior lens is correct, but the company’s founders do not think the shape is a fashion obstacle. TruFocals come in a unisex frame with a variety of colors."

Everything sounds great except the cost. Oh well, I will keep an eye out for these or something like these that carries a more reasonable price tag.

Hair Every Color Of The Rainbow And More

Walking around with hair colored two or three different colors is fun.

I started coloring my hair at age 17. Doing it myself. And then for a few years my hair was used as a model for hairdressers in competitions as well as for new graduates from cosmetology schools who needed hair models as part of the state exam. So for many years I was a walking advertisement for some hairdresser or other. Which meant that I had my hair done without charge. It also meant that I did not have input on the hair color choices or the hair styles, and I had people touching up my hair-do before I left my home so the hair style would look fresh.

It was for the most part an adventure and fun. It helped that I was born with the kind of hair that hairdressers like to work with.

Any traveling to other cities and any clothes needed were paid by the sponsor or the hairdresser. My only investment was my time.

So I can remember having three sections of hair in three different colors. I can remember having green hair. Auburn hair. White hair. Blue hair. All sorts of objects added to elaborate hair-dos. The only time I had hair color of my choice was when I was pregnant with my first child and because I was adamant my baby would be a girl, my hair was kept pink during the pregnancy and I was a stay at home soon to be mom. And hooray, when she was born everyone said it was because of the pink hair. Hahaha. Today wearing hair in a shade of pink can do double duty in support of breast cancer awareness. Which I would do again in a heartbeat in honor my daughter's beating heart.

Doing It Backward

This is something I would not like to do. Diving backward would be a big no. Diving in head first from this height would be a big no. Even riding the ferris wheel is okay if it going forward. But when it starts going backward my stomach want to say hello to all the other riders!

Health Care

The health care issue affects so many of us in a personal way. I have not had health care insurance for most of my working life. That is a lot of years.

In a year and a half I will be eligible for medicare. Yep, now that I am getting old(er) I will have some kind of medical insurance. Now I hope I will be (sorta) healthy in my old age. Looks like we caught the diabetes early and I am doing so much better regarding high blood pressure. Other than those two things I am easy maintenance.

Sugar Stacked Up For What It Really Is

Visit Sugar Stacks website to see how the sugar stacks up in beverages, snacks, veggies, and other foods. It's worth the quick trip over there to see how much sugar is contained in your favorite items. I am a visual person, and seeing the cubes of sugar stacked in front of the products, helps me see the amount of sugar in each item.

Peanut butter and jelly used to be one of my favorites sandwiches until I began the fight to combat onset of diabetes. Now it is just lightly spread natural peanut butter for me.

Shopaholic -- Addiction or Harmless Hobby

I have known a few people, most of them women, who admit they are shopaholics. They are driven to shop, not just window shop, but purchase. Some of them have tried to curtail the spending by trying to stay away from the malls and favorite stores. But their monthly credit card statements showed them they weren't making a difference in their spending habits.

There is a story in BBC News about a woman who did not let anyone into her home for sixteen years. When a friend tried to contact her and became concerned about her, the authorities were alerted. Her body was discovered beneath items she had purchased. Floor to ceiling purchases throughout the garage and the house.

"The body of an elderly shopaholic was found underneath a pile of clothing and other items after she died of natural causes, an inquest heard.

Joan Cunnane's bungalow was so crammed with purchases it took five visits to the house before she was found."

"She said it gave her pleasure to buy things, she only bought things she really liked."

Shopping just to be shopping is not interesting to me. In fact, shopping is actually a chore. One I would so like to close my eyes and wish for a magic shopping fairy to do the shopping for me and bring the purchases back already wrapped if they are gifts and already washed and labels off if they are for me. I don't know why I was not born a natural all American girl, but shopping is not something I have ever wanted to spend my time doing unless it was to please one of my daughters by spending some time with them. The shopping gene bypassed me completely and landed on them with the force of fifteen megatons. So in a way I did my part to contribute to the survival of the malls and boutiques in this world.

I have to admit that for a short while I did succumb to a whirlwind romance with online shopping when I found QVC. That didn't last long because there just isn't much in the way of material things that I am drawn to. Just the basics please and I am content. Heck, I move so much, the more stuff just means more to move!

I do feel grief for the woman in the story who lived her last years buying things she didn't need to compensate for the relationships she rejected. We human beings need each other. We are all connected in a way we cannot see with our eyes but we can hear with our hearts.

Once You Hear It, It Is There To Stay

One of the reasons I stopped watching TV was the contradicting misinformation on the news. I would watch a story on the news and then watch a different channel and get a different slant on the same story. It started to aggravate me that I, the television watcher, was being manipulated and sometimes lied to by people that I used to count on to just give me the facts. When I would talk with some friends there would sometimes be different viewpoints of a particular incident, and some of my friends would go to their graves believing that what they heard on Fox News was absolutely true.

A story in Scientific American supports my viewpoint of TV news.

"Why is it that once you learn something incorrectly (say, 7 X 9 = 65), it seems you never can correct your recall? Identifying, correcting and averting our memory errors are part of a cognitive process called memory monitoring. Incorrect associations can be tough to change, but we can use techniques to retrain our brain. Building on the correct information can help you learn new associations to it: add something to change how you retrieve the item from your memory."

So if a news station decides to fabricate or exaggerate a news story and people listen to the story and believe it is fact, then they tell their friends and neighbors the "true story", and on and on until it is believed by thousands of people, we end up with a brainwashed society.

It became more than aggravating to me to listen to fiction being sold as fact. I want to be told the truth, in my personal life, in my work life, in the news being fed to me. I decide what is good enough to chew and what to spit back out.

Get In On A Good Giveaway

Go over to The Alternative Consumer and read the post about Fuji batteries and then leave a comment.

You might win some batteries.

Good luck! Let them know you heard about the giveaway here.

A Whale Of A Story

What are the chances of a huge whale getting stuck on the front of a huge ship? And even more, what are the chances that the huge whale would be a rare species?

Will wonders never cease? Check out this story at BBC News, one of my favorite sources of world news:

"A rare whale was discovered wedged on to the bow of a cruise ship when it docked in a Canadian port.

The 70ft fin whale, a threatened species in Canada, was found when the Sapphire Princess docked at the Port of Vancouver, the cruise company said.

It said it had "strict whale avoidance" measures and it was unclear where, when or how the whale became stuck.

The fisheries department will need to conduct a post-mortem examination to find out if the whale was dead or alive before the collision.

According to the Vancouver Star, two tugboats were hired by the fisheries department to nudge the whale from the bow.

It was then moved to a barge."

I have been on a few cruises, none on Princess Cruise Lines, and those cruise ships are very very large, but from the photo it looks like the whale was pretty good size too. It boggles my mind how something as immense as the whale could have hit the ship and not be felt or noticed with all the tracking equipment on the ship. But it did happen. For some reason when I read this news article I hurt for the whale, a wonder of a sea animal who is the main attraction of whale watching enthusiasts. I hope the whale died peacefully and was not in distress. Maybe that is wishful thinking.

Hundred Dollar Bill

Woman (speaking to a clearly upset friend): He asked her, "If I offered you a hundred dollar bill, would you take it?" and she said, "Of course." Then he asked her, "What if I crumpled up the hundred dollar bill, would you still want it?" She answered, "Yes." Then he asked her, "What if I threw the crumpled hundred dollar bill on the ground and stepped on it, would you still take it?" She answered, "Yes! I need the money, I don't care if it's been stepped on." Then he said, "Well, you are like that hundred dollar bill. Your worth is not diminished because you have been stepped on a few times."

This was a post on a blog called Unknown Mami. Then Mami went on to say "I am like that hundred dollar bill. So are you!"

That is a good analogy for how so many of us feel or have felt at one time or another. I am beginning to accept my worth and understand what it means to feel worthy as a person and as a survivor.

As I travel around online reading different blogs, it is clear that there are many people suffering and hurting and struggling with grief and tragedy and trauma. I was one of them for about a year. My therapist would give me a big high five right now if she were here reading this post. With her help I have been learning new tools for survival. No longer are the hurt and fear running my life. I am like that hundred dollar bill!!

Sister-In-Law Birthday

Today is my dear sister-in-law's birthday. We called her and chatted awhile. Every time I get off the phone I feel good. She is a wonderful friend and sister. She is also a steadfast and loving wife and mother. It is so much fun for me to hear this end of the conversations between hubby and his little sister.

Happy Birthday, Suz. I love you and appreciate you more than I can begin to tell you.

Sensual, Earthy Poems

I have read and followed many blogs with poems in them for the past four years. I have written a few worthless poems myself, but I just do not have talent for writing. The thing I do have is the heart to "listen" to poems. So I am grateful when I find poems that "speak" to me.

My friend, Fancy, writes poems on his blog. I have been reading his blog for a few years and I have the utmost respect for his talent and heart-rending words.

This is Fancy's latest poem:

Winter Rain
frisky tadpoles
in my visual field...
winter deluge

the sound
of silence after the first
winter rain...
how precious is the moment when
the sun turns the other cheek?

raindrops in Findon...
a flock of wild ducks come out
to play; stealing kisses

sowing the
seeds of desire after
the fall...
a cloud painted with
your smiles

the moon sings
yet you sit like the Pharaoh's cat
purring

a new voice
in the 'hood foretold
and yet, the light
of old memory fills the
heart of many

(C) Lawrence T. Udo-Ekpo

The way he joins the wonders of nature and shows them with feelings is enticing and enchanting.

Wearing My Big Girl Panties

As I worked through things this past year, I realized that in many ways I did not want to grow up. Maybe because the people in my life who were supposedly grown up, were not mature and healthy. So the adults surrounding me were poor examples of what I should want to strive for.

Small habits of mine became objects of closer attention. Until a year ago, I would only eat with a salad fork because it was smaller and more comfortable for me. Same for coffee cups. Petite cutesy cups were my choice. And shoes. Comfy, cutesy was what caught my eye, not sophisticated or business and certainly not sexy. Pink is my favorite color to wear, all shades of pink. So it was inevitable that I wore white comfy tennies with big pink and white checked shoelaces when hubby and I got married two years ago.

These days I choose a regular dinner fork and am comfortable eating with it. In fact, I noticed yesterday as I used a salad fork because there were no more clean dinner forks, that it felt weird to use such a small fork!! I have come a long way, baby.

I know it sounds absurd to be speaking of growing up for someone of my age. I raised three (wonderful, healthy, no help from me) kids and held down stressful jobs and whizzed in and out of different relationships and moved around from place to place.

But when my panties got in a bunch, there was nothing else for me to do but straighten them out and in doing that, my life is becoming smoother. Not smooth sailing, but at least smoother. And I am continuing to work out the creases to a proper fit.

Life Is Like A Tree

Found at the blog called Gurushabad:

"Life is like a tree;
them, us, you and me,
open your mind
and you will see,
we are all connected.
We were born on the same day.....
separated by branches,
we have migrated away,
nature and the environment,
our bodies from the earth.

If it wasn't for water
we would still be dirt.
Our origin is a mystery,
we come from a magical seed,
we are of different colors,
but we are all the same breed...

Life is like a tree
as delicate as can be,
harm one of the branches
you harm the entire tree.

Life is like a tree
them, us, you and me
open up your mind
and you will see.
(elton)"

Tainted Alcohol

A story in CNN News is a story I can relate to. This story is about men who drank tainted alcohol.

"It's a big problem," said Southwest Delhi Deputy Commission of Police K. Jagdesan. "It's men who die more often from lower income groups. So they (the women) don't have anybody to support them."

Poor laborers and slum dwellers are often the ones who get sick because they cannot afford the licensed alcohol sold at government-approved shops. Or, they live in parts of India where it is illegal to sell alcohol.

In either case, people turn to illegal vendors who sell homemade hooch or watered-down cheap alcohol. The supplier sometimes adds toxic ingredients to these that are meant to get the drinker higher -- faster and cheaper.

One of the ingredients often detected is methyl alcohol, which is known to cause blindness".

My father grew up in Arkansas. He and his buddies would hunt in the woods and they were on their own most of the time. They would drink whatever they could get from other fellows they knew and sometimes from people they did not know. He must have been addicted to alcohol at a young age. When he was fifteen years old he drank something with gasoline or something like this article describes in it and it killed the optic nerves in his eyes. For the rest of his life he had less than two percent vision. He was labeled legally blind. No more hunting. No driving cars. No more school. No more friends. His life changed completely. The only thing that did not change was his drinking habit. He drank every day. He lived with us off and on for the first 10 years of my life and then I saw him occasionally. He had difficulty with jobs. Most of the time I knew him he did not work. But he always drank. And he smoked Camels without filters. He did pick up some grown up buddies sometimes, guys who would take him fishing with them and oh guess what, they drank all the time too. My father and his buddies would sit on the grass in the back yard so plowed they could not stand and they would grab my cat and pour drinks down my cat till it was bombed and stumbling like they were. This was entertainment for them. For me it was another spark of anger. Anger toward my father and toward his buddies and eventually toward other men too. Watching my father I learned that men make sure they get what they want, as he always had money to buy his liquor and cigarettes and we did not have food or clothes.

As an adult I was able to see that he was bitter about losing his sight. It was an excruciating event that would not ever be turned around. He would not talk about it, but I was the one who was always watching in our family. I watched them all. Just like I watched the ants on the sidewalk and the birds and the rabbits and the almost dead flowers and plants in the yard that I nurtured and worked with every day to try to bring back to life. I watched them all. By watching I was not participating. I knew when to stay out of the way.

When my father passed away in 1986, his then wife called my brother and gave him the news. I had not spoken with my father for about 2 years and I did not know he was living in a different state at the time of his death. I knew he had emphysema and he was still smoking 3 packs of the same cigarettes he had smoked all the years I had known him. And he still drank every day.

Are Your Hormones Making You Miserable?

My hubby forwarded this article to me that he found here. "Are your hormones out of balance? Does your life feel like a song played badly out of tune? If so, the problem may have to do with imbalances in your hormones, which are wreaking havoc on your body and mind.

Do your mood and energy swing up and down, making your life crazy?

• Do you crave sugar or salt?

• Are you overweight and putting on more and more belly fat?

• If you are a woman, do you have premenstrual syndrome, painful or heavy periods, and a low sex drive?

• Are you depressed? Do you sleep poorly?

• Do you feel tired but wired?

• Do you need coffee to wake up in the morning and a few glasses of wine to calm down at night?

If you answered "yes," your hormones may be out of balance, and you are not alone.
There are four big epidemics of hormonal problems in Americans today that are sending millions of people out of balance: too much insulin (from sugar), too much cortisol and adrenaline (from stress), imbalances of sex hormones such as estrogen and testosterone, and not enough thyroid hormones.

When you eat too much sugar, flour, and white rice, your insulin levels spike. When this happens, your cells become resistant to its effects. So you pump out more and more insulin, become even MORE resistant to its effects, and end up in the vicious cycle of insulin resistance. Insulin resistance can cause energy and mood swings -- AND it can take you down the slippery road toward high blood pressure, heart disease, obesity, cancer, brain aging, dementia, and more.

Historically, we ate the equivalent of only 20 teaspoons of sugar a year as hunter-gatherers.

But just 200 years ago, we started consuming about 10 pounds of sugar per person per year -- a 5,000% increase over our evolutionary ancestors!

As if that weren't bad enough, we now we eat 150 pounds per person per year, or about 1/2 pound each day -- that's the equivalent of drinking 6 cans of Coke or eating 8 Snickers bars per day."

This is one of the better articles about hormones and focuses on insulin.

For two years I eliminated sugar and sugar products from my diet. Then last year I started using sugar again. I started experiencing some symptoms that I had not noticed during the sugar-free cycle. Now today, for two months I am again free of sugar and I am slowly feeling better. For someone like me, this article makes so much sense. I answered yes to all the above questions and because I was listening to my own body whine and moan, I had already changed my diet and increased exercise before the doctor told me I have diabetes. It will be interesting to see the blood sugar results next month to see how much being pro-active can change the test results.

Mowing The Lawn

An article on Make Online caught my eye. At first I thought I would email it to my hubby but it has turned into a post for my blog. Hubster can read about it here.

The article may be more interesting to me since I do not mow the lawn. Hubby has happily joined the neighborhood mower guys association. It has been fun for me to see him check out the length of the leaves, the color, the height of the mowed lawn, the moisture content, and lament a dry patch or cuss at the lawn mower. There seems to be a silent competition in the neighborhood regarding the condition of the lawns. Maybe the maintenance of the lawns is so high on the priority list because of all the winter months when there is no green lawn. Just white powder and slush and sand and salt. The first week that a lawn shows green there are multiple lawn mower sounds throughout the area and from then on the game begins. When we walk throughout the neighborhood, the men will have a buddy with them, or at least their dog, and they will be working in the yard. I used to think how awful that some poor hard working man would get a day off his job and have to spend the day slaving away in his yard. Not true! They love it!! And if a man across the street comes out while one is working in his yard, the two of them compare lawns and fertilizer and weed control and tools (don't get me started on tools!) There are different ways to mow the lawn, not just back and forth or around and around. There are designs to mow into the lawn. Amazing.

Oh oh oh, I just realized, I can do a whole post another time on the LAWN MOWER and the WEED EATER.

Slowly Moving Forward Toward The Light of Peace

Last year brought major change and upsetting and shocking experiences.
This year is a continuation of effort to understand
and overcome heartache stemming from that trauma.
What I am finding in this healing time is that
I am becoming a better woman as I recover.
Letting go of hurt and fear is making room
for alternate emotions: Strength of character;
Self confidence; Acceptance of what happened; Reverence for what is now. I am taking care of myself as I would an invaluable friend. My welfare receives serious attention. One small word can mean so much. SAFE.

Can Graffiti Be Wholesome?

Owen, at Magic Lantern Show, has given me permission to use his photo shown here in this post. His blog is always enlightening and entertaining and visual, and his blog is one I read every day.

His amazing discovery beneath the leaves of ivy, (well, not all of the printing was hidden behind the ivy), causes me to wonder who would have done this much work to paint a love message to their parents. First of all, it would have taken energy and strength to accomplish it, and then it would have taken lots of paint. I would like to be one of the parents. A parent who is cherished and admired. A parent who inspires this kind of pride.

It Should Be Harder To Get Married and Also Harder To Get Divorced

This article in BBC News brought back some memories for me when I was going through a divorce. I was much younger then with three children to raise. I remember telling my soon to be ex-husband that there should be laws strictly enforced making it mandatory for couples wanting to get married to attend prenuptial classes, and also that the weddings could not be for another 6 months after completing the classes. The mandatory classes need to be based on reality, with both parties participating completely. The classes should bring out the honesty and open the eyes of each person to see how they each believe and how they would act in a crisis or how they respect each others individuality. So many people have grown up seeing "love" on TV and in movies, that in some cases that is the only example they have. They are not getting an example of honest hard working loving mature adults at home so they fantasize about Mr or Mrs Right making them tingle all over and taking care of them and all their desires for ever and ever. They are not able to see a clear picture of their part in a real relationship; therefore, they are not prepared for a lasting marriage and they do not understand when the fantasy falls apart.

On the flip side, if a couple is talking about divorce, they have to attend classes and arbitration for a mandatory period of time and if they still want a divorce, they would each have to see a therapist for at least 6 months before legal proceedings could be instituted.

In the BBC News article:
"Couples should have a compulsory three-month "cooling off" period before they can start divorce proceedings, a Conservative think tank will recommend."
...
"A report commissioned by ex-Tory leader Iain Duncan Smith will also propose a network of family relationship centres to advise before and during marriage."

Maybe someday there will be something like this in the US.

Do Parents Matter?

In an article at Scientific American, "A researcher argues that peers are much more important than parents, that psychologists underestimate the power of genetics, and that we have a lot to learn from Asian classrooms".

..."In 1998 Judith Rich Harris, an independent researcher and textbook author, published The Nurture Assumption: Why Children Turn Out the Way They Do. The book provocatively argued that parents matter much less—at least when it comes to determining the behavior of their children—than is typically assumed. Instead Harris argued that a child’s peer group is far more critical."

"I’ve put together a lot of evidence showing that children learn at home how to behave at home (that’s where parents do have power!), and they learn outside the home how to behave outside the home."

I suppose that is accurate. I raised three kids. That was the toughest job I ever had. In lots of ways it was the best of all jobs. I know that children learn from their peers and their environment. Parents cannot be with their children every minute. We parents do our best to prepare children for the tests and trials they will meet in life.

Is It A Balloon OR A Ball OR A Belly?

My sister-in-law sent me the picture of her belly. The note on the back of the photo said that my brother had drawn the face on her pregnant belly. I didn't know my brother was such a cool guy.

The little boy in the other picture is Matthew and he made his debut the end on March.
Matthew is the miracle baby of a father who is 65 and a mother who is 54. My brother and sister-in-law had no idea they would be parents at this stage of their lives. When they were told they were pregnant, they were in shock, and then in awe of the blessing. Since they are both in good health and are retired, they have the ability to be full time parents.

There must be a reason that this beautiful boy has been entrusted to my brother and sister-in-law. They are enjoying every minute. Today is my mother's 88th birthday and I know my brother and sister-in-law will be visiting her this week, so she will get to meet her newest grandson. How's that for a unique birthday present?

A Dog Called Chance

This picture was taken by a blogger I read often. The blog is The Far Side of Fifty.

The dog's name is Chance. Isn't this a beautiful dog? For some reason, when I saw this picture I was enthralled. Peaceful, playful scene. Great photography.

Youthful Eyes

Great article on BBC News about laser surgery.

"A ground-breaking laser treatment could prevent millions of older people from going blind, experts believe.

The technique helps reverse the effects of age-related macular degeneration - the leading cause of blindness in over 60s in the western world.

Developed by pioneering eye expert Professor John Marshall of King's College London, the laser returns the back of the eye to its youthful state."

...""What this laser is doing is trying to treat the underlying ageing process, as it were, reset the clock so that you don't have the manifestations of visual loss."

Why can't there be laser surgery that could bring old folks bodies like mine back to our "youthful state".

Why Do We Shout In Anger

I found a great post about anger at Gurushabad.

"When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot. To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other. The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other to cover that great distance.
What happens when two people fall in love? They don't shout at each other but talk softly, Because their hearts are very close. The distance between them is either nonexistent or very small..."

..."When they love each other even more, what happens? They do not speak, only whisper and they get even closer to each other in their love. Finally they even need not whisper, they only look at each other and that's all. That is how close two people are when they love each other."

Take a look at Gurushabad and read the entire post.

Being Repaired Might Look Temporary

This photo clearly shows that somehow we find a way to fix things so they work, but to the onlooker it is a mess. I found this article at Make:Online.

Just as in my life I have been fixing my codependency and healing my depression and PTSD. This is taking a great amount of work, every day work, honest hard work. Harder than manual labor.

Added to my individual recovery work, I am working on repairing my relationship with my husband. To someone not living inside our earth bodies, it may look like things are not fixed. Our judgment is the only significant opinion. And we don't judge harshly these days. We're pretty easy going.

My hubby is working on his own recovery in codependency. He has been clean and sober for eight years. And he has been living with bipolar disorder all his life, in hospitals for manic episodes twelve times. The most recent hospital stay was last summer, a few months after we moved from California to Nebraska.


Our marriage might look like a jury-rigged fragile temporary fix like the one in this picture. For us, it is stronger and better than it ever was. Last year when hubby was taken to a hospital, I was taken to a homeless shelter, where I stayed for 3 1/2 months. Then I moved to a little apartment and that is still my home. I see hubby almost every day and we are still very married and cook together, clean together, watch movies, wash clothes, all the things we used to do when we lived together. For now, this is the way it is working for us, and we are doing better and better every day, one day at a time.

Marvin Gaye Sings

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY, AMERICA!!!

The flag is still there!! And it still means something worthwhile.

Remembering Amelia

In the official website of Amelia Earheart, the basic facts cannot describe the woman within the suits and clothes worn by the famous navigator.

"Birth Name: Amelia Mary Earhart
Born: July 24, 1897
Birthplace: Atchison, Kansas
Died: July 2, 1937, en route from Lae, New Guinea to Howland Island
Married: February 7, 1931, to George Putnam

* Despite having to attend six different high schools, she was able to graduate on time.
* Earhart was called "Lady Lindy" because her slim build and facial features resembled that of Charles Lindbergh.
* Earhart refused to don typical flying gear -she wore a suit or dress instead of the "high-bread aviation togs," a close-fitting hat instead of a helmet, didn't put on her goggles until she taxied to the end of the field and removed them immediately upon landing.
* She developed a friendship with Eleanor Roosevelt, who wanted to learn how to fly. Earhart had planned to teach her, for which the First Lady even got her student permit.
* Earhart met Orville Wright at the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia in 1937, the same year she disappeared.
* Earhart had such an impression on public that people often wrote and told her about naming babies, lakes and even homing pigeons "Amelia."
* The United States government spent $4 million looking for Earhart, which made it the most costly and intensive air and sea search in history at that time.
* She was the 16th woman to receive a pilot's license from the FAI (License No. 6017)."

For a woman to display courage and intelligence in the early 1900's as she did is an example for all of us even now.

Guitar Lessons At MY AGE????

There have to be other senior citizen types who want to learn to play the guitar. It can't be just for teen and pre-teen creatures who want to see how loud the amp and speakers can reach to break the sound barrier.

I will start my official guitar lessons next week. I might have a little teentsy weentsy advantage in that my teacher is the hubby who just happens to be the best guitar player ever except for maybe Jimi Hendrix and Jeff Beck.

So I 1) don't have to pay for the lessons and 2) won't have to drive somewhere to be on exhibit in front of other students (those teen and pre-teen creatures) and 3) I don't have to buy a guitar because he gave me his Strat that he had when I met him almost 4 years ago (that is the actual photo in this post). I'm not being smug about all this though, because I do know that if I want to truly learn to play anything that sounds like music I will have to do some work. And practice till my fingers hurt and then rest the fingers and then practice more.

So hubby bought me a small amp so I can use the headphones and practice, practice, practice and it won't disturb anyone. Wonder what he meant by that?

Walking For Good Health

The American Heart Association talks about walking and exercise all the time. In this article the benefits of walking at a more moderate pace for a longer time are discussed.

I find myself avoiding things that put stress on me, even if I am the one putting the pressure on myself. It isn't complicated. The human body needs exercise. I get it. Most discussions about how much exercise is necessary seem to be written by a health guru obsessed with how many hours a day they can run, swim, bicycle, or spend on an elliptical or tread machine. Someone like that telling someone like me how wonderful I will feel if I live like that is absurd.

That is why I found the AHA article interesting and non-intimidating.

"Study highlights:

* Walking longer at a slower pace improved heart health much more effectively than standard cardiac rehabilitation of walking a shorter distance at a brisker pace in overweight patients with coronary heart disease.
* In this study, moderate-pace walking for 45–60 minutes on five to six days was considered high-calorie-burning exercise.
* Researchers said it’s necessary to modify traditional rehabilitation because more heart patients are overweight."

..."In a first-of-its-kind study, researchers randomized 74 overweight cardiac rehabilitation patients (average age 64, 20 percent women) to either a high-caloric expenditure exercise regimen intended to burn 3,000 to 3,500 calories a week or a standard rehab therapy burning 700 to 800 calories weekly."

..."The study’s message is “walk often and walk far.”"

Often for me would be 5 days a week. Far would be one hour.

Thank You, Farrah Fawcett

Someone I admired is no longer in pain.

Farrah Fawcett was officially one of the "Charlie's Angels" for only one season; however, she is remembered as one of the Angels in most things written about her.
The fact that she chose to leave the popular television show after only one year was a choice she made. Some of her later roles showed the depth of her acting ability that would not have been prominent if she had remained in "Charlie's Angels".

I have never had the type of hair that could resemble or duplicate Farrah's amazing look, much to my regret. Instead of being jealous of her natural beauty and sex symbol status, it felt like we women were in a club celebrating our female humanness. There was something about Farrah that made me feel she didn't have her nose in the air; she was one of us.

Goodbye, Farrah, till we meet again in a better place.

There is a really nice article about Farrah on CNN News.

The Power In Holding Hands

In our other blog I wrote one of my first posts.

It was this quote:

" Oh, the comfort - the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person - having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away. "
~Dinah Craik, A Life for a Life, 1859

That post is dated 9/23/06.

We are still holding hands. Sometimes just to hold each other up. Sometimes when we laugh. Sometimes when we cry. We haven't been writing in that other blog this past year, but like the rest of our healing, we will return to the sweetness and affection generated in that other blog.

This quote actually means more to me now than it did 3 years ago. The comfort of knowing someone intimately and walking through the fiery destruction, only to rebuild a stronger support BECAUSE WE CHOOSE TO. We choose to keep what is worth keeping: Our mutual understanding; our worthiness; our individual recoveries that spill over into our still strong relationship. And then we kindly blow away the lingering pain and disappointment as we set our own private standards for our unique marriage. It may not be a conventional union but only we can hear the quiet tick that operates the clock of our existence.

Shhh, listen to the tick, tick, tick.

Shall We Dance?

There is an interesting article in BBC News about dancing.

According to this article, "Ballroom and Latin dancing classes can improve pupils' behaviour as well as their fitness, research suggests."

..."Roehampton University's Dr Jeanne Keay, who conducted the research, said the response to the programme in the 29 primary and secondary schools involved was overwhelmingly positive.

He said communication and co-operation improved between boys and girls, who worked together as dance partners.

And that behaviour had improved because of the "disciplined and structured nature of ballroom and Latin dance". "

The article also mentions that the dance program helps shy children become involved and that the program has the potential to positively effect social interaction within families and in local communities.

My son was such a shy little boy that when he was ages 3 to 6 if one of the neighborhood children would ring the bell and ask if my son could come out to play, he would be found hiding behind the drapes in the living room. He was quiet and didn't speak much. He was the kind of kid that when he did have something to say, it was something worth listening to, not just yak yak rambling. He rarely had something to say so I felt like I should be right there ready to write what he was saying when he did speak.

Maybe he was quiet because he was sandwiched between his two sisters in age and their constant talking was our little family's entertainment. Perhaps a young peoples dance program might have helped him be less reserved when he was a small lad. He was allowed to enter the world of sports at a young age precisely because of his shy nature and because it was such a surprise that this quiet, shy boy was so insistent that he wanted to play football. He was always happy to play alone that it was unexpected when he was so sure he wanted to play a team sport.

So instead of dancing he was running back and forth across the football field. That didn't help his social skills but it did teach him discipline and team spirit. Continuing to play was always his choice. He would not miss a practice. The girls and I were watching every practice. He continued with football and added basketball and wrestling along the way. He is a grown man now and still somewhat reserved albiet a polished businessman. I think I will ask him if he dances much.

Is the Grunting Necessary?

BBC News article: "What A Racket".

"A quiet revolution is engulfing tennis, as spectators and players say enough is enough to grunting. As Wimbledon begins, why is it that players are making so much noise?"

Personally, I like the noise. There needs to be some sort of sound to hold my interest for any length of time. I personally don't watch TV, don't have TV, don't miss TV the past 4 years. But when I did watch it, I enjoyed hearing the struggle and effort when the athletes performed. It is a performance after all. Why else would there be people in the stands and on the TV glued to the back and forth ball and the strains and pains of the players?

Is the grunting necessary? Not really. Does it make it more interesting? In my opinion, yes it does.

Happy Birthday Dear Brother Bill

Today is my OLDER brother's birthday. He is my only brother but when we started getting up in the senior citizen hemisphere, I started teasing him about his being older.

He may be older but he is definitely more active and young at heart than I am. He has a wonderful wife and after being married about a trillion years they were astonished to learn they were expecting a baby last year. In March they were blessed with a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Not that I am partial to this little nephew, but this is truly a good looking and smart baby.

Their little family is in the process of a rather substantial move back to the mainland.
For most of our adult lives we have lived in different states, both of us moving from time to time to still other states. But we haven't missed each others birthdays, either a call or a card.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BRO!!! I love you.

The Four Commandments

Skilled and accomplished people attract me. Throw interesting and zany into the mix and I'm a fan. When I found Les Becker's blog, it was as if I found myself in a love-in from the sixties (and I had never been to one back then).

This blog is so much fun, and boy do I need fun these days. I wonder how does she find the time to write a post so often and how does she keep her funny bone from cracking? This blogger has wit and charm and CAN SPELL, even if some of the words are spelled in Canadianese.

Les' ex-landlady, Ruby, is credited with relaying some fascinating and sometimes funny stories. Because I am a recent convert to this blog, there are posts-a-plenty in my future to read because I plan on reading every post from the beginning of this blog. I am already feeling related to Ruby and Les, so I may end up a cousin when I am finished with the catch-up.

The four commandments as Ruby sees them are:

Trust your instincts.
Walk your own path.
Play fair.
Mind your own business.

My perception of that is:
Trust your instincts. Listen to your gut feeling. Pay attention to your inner wisdom.

Walk your own path. Decide your course. Plot your own direction. Travel your own way.

Play fair. Play according to the rules. Don't cheat. Engage all with highest standards.

Mind your own business. Mind your own friggin business. Keep an extraordinarily high degree of refrain from interfering in everyone else' sphere.

I will be doing a post on each one of these "commandments" in the near future.
And I will be visiting Les Becker's blog often. Maybe I can learn some things from her about sharing daily struggles and experiences with humor and an open heart.

The Alzheimer's Coffee Pot

My coffee pot was a three dollar discovery at a thrift store last year. I didn't look closely at it and there wasn't a user's manual provided so my expectations were pretty straightforward. I would put in the water, filter, and coffee and the coffee machine would do its part by brewing and maintaining a temperature that would keep the coffee hot.

The first time I used it I discovered by accident that this darling coffee machine turns off if it does not get attention after a half hour. Not that I have this in common with my coffee machine. The first few times this happened, it was annoying. But I have come to appreciate the convenience of having something I do not have to remember.

I irreverently alluded to Alzheimer's in this post, not as a criticism of anyone suffering from this disease, but as one more thing that could be in my own future.
My coffee machine has a nickname. Al.

My plants have nicknames too and so do other things around here, but that is a post for another day.

Ray Charles-September 23, 1930 - June 10, 2004

This post is in memory of Ray Charles. There is a wealth of information in the biography on the Ray Charles blog here.

I was especially interested in his success as I followed his career many years ago.
As a young bride, my then husband and I were fortunate to hear Ray sing and play at a favorite place in Hollywood, California.

I will be watching my DVD of Ray today.

The Down Side

I think there are lots and lots of people like me in my age group and older who live on fixed incomes. It is actually a satisfactory way to live. I used to think it wasn't, but out here in the mid-west in this environment it is okay. We are older folks wanting a peaceful life. Perspective on life on the down side of the life mountain isn't looking downward as I imagined it would be. It is more of a graceful descent to the inevitable and a different kind of adventure.

The other side of the life mountain, the young years, is much harder, struggling to get ahead, working and saving for a future that may or may not turn out as planned. Some people are so focused on this side of the life mountain that they pressure family and friends around them to have the same goals and ambitions. As a younger woman, I was persuaded that my value as a human being depended on how much money I made and what position I attained in society.

I'm not quite into the "Golden Years", but I hear them knocking on my door. In this time of my life I see clearly and listen attentively with an authority to discern my own fate and my preferred lifestyle. The simple things in life are not free as in the old expression. The things I hold dear are not luxurious or self-indulgent but there is a cost. My time. My effort. And in some instances, my heart. I give willingly and lovingly of myself and my resources to maintain my wholesome lifestyle.

Wheeee, this is a glorious ride on the down side. For the next 20, 30 or maybe even 40 years of my life I want to remain hopeful and functional and valuable.