Almost forgot my Spring

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Re-springing Your Step

Saw the prompt this morning and I realized that I needed to think about that…. put it off, tried again a few times and then forgot about it, maybe on purpose, til now.

First thing that comes to mind is that once upon a time, in another life, I used to ask people regularly, “when was the last time you did something for the first time?” Many people registered mild anger – misdirected, of course, but nevertheless anger. I saw some heads snap back in surprise. Some people just looked around for the other 4 heads that must have been growing out of my shoulders as this was such a far-fetched notion.

Second thing that comes to mind is that those first things I have done recently haven’t been the same kind of first things that I used to do… They are now much more… quiet? Less show-offish?

More for sheer survival. Maybe that’s why having a giant bouncy spring in my step seemed hard to find.

No, I’m not starving, homeless or penniless. Far from any of those. But there are different kinds of survival, non? And different kinds of firsts. And different ways to spring back.

So back to the prompt, what was something that put a spring back into my step? How ’bout this little blog? Quiet. Less show-offish than many other activities. But something that showed me that my former life isn’t really as far away as I imagined it to be. And my future life is happening as we speak.

Thanks for being part of it, even if for a few moments.

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Thank you.

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Thank You

Where to begin.

Category A. Thanks to a handful of people who have shown me just exactly how I do not want to be? Y’all are pretty important.

Or

Category B. Thanks to the one person who has stood by me and shared with me through everything over the last almost 20 years, which it would seem, if one considers all sides of the story, has actually been all of eternity?

Still have the slight tendency to feel raw when I think of those in Category A, so I guess your disguised good deeds will go unacknowledged today. Maybe someone else will thank you.

To My Dearest Friend of Category B. You saved my life twice in this lifetime. Though I hope I never have to save yours, I will be there to do so, if you need it.

Shalom.

Nothing interesting to say, just blabbing.

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Pens and Pencils

Writing in response to today’s post… the last time I wrote something substantial by hand.

Am actually blogging to try and get away from my dependence on writing by hand. Caught between typing and handwriting, my handwriting only gets worse, without any personality (unless, perchance, my personality is getting worse?).

Hands free.

Give me a hand.

Give a hand to …. me.

Gotta hand it to you.

Hands up.

Hands down.

I’m pretty handy.

Makes me think of the zen saying.  Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.

How do we do those today? I mean other than paying people to do those mundane things that are necessary in daily life, regardless. And if you don’t chop your own wood or carry your own water, how will you ever know?

I digress.

Super brain forgot the title

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Brain Power

Full capacity, full usage of the brain. Can’t process that with the % that I am currently using.

I think will 100% ON, I would probably know exactly what I was supposed to be doing with all of that ability. Right now, however…

I’ll try another daily prompt. Gee, what was my favourite childhood book and did it influence the person I am now? I can’t recall which one would be my favourite, but I *do* know that all of the books I have read, all of the things I have seen, places I’ve been, make me real keen, all of that theme have influenced me. Even the choice of not finishing a book, or buying it and giving it away because I changed my mind after one page, all of those things have changed me.

For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer. Blabbity blah.

This has been my biggest concern about writing a blog. So much of what is out there – books, blogs, movie, tv, conversations – is trite and overdone. Selfish or self-righteous. Nothing worse than editing your work and thinking yuck that is boring.

Maybe it’s time for lunch….

Nice Bone of Contention – did you pick it yourself?

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Bone of Contention

Am slowly, slowly making my way around this blogging and then Kaplooie – I see that the daily post of January 11th was something that I missed – a Bone of Contention. I could swear that I wrote a post every single day since I started; I had forgotten how much I enjoy writing and have looked forward to it upon awakening each morning – HOW could I have missed a whole day? Was I THAT busy?

I had indeed written a daily according to the prompt which was describe yourself as a Sandwich and now says write about the opposing side of something controversial and then describe how you felt about it.

I’m just so relieved that my marbles aren’t as far apart as I thought they were that I don’t feel like writing about controversy. I’m also not so self-indulgent to think that how I felt about writing the devil’s advocate point of view of a topic is even remotely interesting, not even to myself.

I’d rather point out the sweeping difference in world attention to Boka Haram and Charlie. Both tragic beyond belief. But where is the international support for Nigeria? This is not a religious stance on my part.

I’d rather point out the sweeping difference in world attention to the 9/11 attacks in the US and the fact that 20,000 people die everyday from malnutrition. This is not a religious nor a political stance on my part.

On my part I’m finally starting to wake up to the notion that there are other people in the world, in my neighbourhood (hey – there’s a u in my neighbourhood!), my country, heck even out there on the internet (and not just the journalists, weight loss gurus or penis enhancing experts).

Has taken me long enough, don’t you think?

Press This Goldfish

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And so we meet again, Trial and Error…

Found out how to do this today, Press This(needs an exclamation point)!

Let me clarify – I found the press this feature, and used it on this wonderful WordPress site I’ve been pouring over for the last year.

Don’t say this too loudly, but I never wanted a fish in the first place. I have enough to look after and didn’t need to have something else to keep alive and/or yet another person/animals need for me to place above my own.

Regardless, I took over the fish upkeep about 5 years ago. Yes, we’ve had the same goldfish for about 10 years.  All was going swimmingly until about a year ago.  Fish was at the bottom of the tank for about a week. Google this, google that, just like when the others (the non-fish) were dying. What to look for? What will happen? What will it be like upon the last breath? Will I be there? How will I explain it was like? Will anyone want to know? You know, the regular stuff.

Found The Goldfish Tank and lo and behold, Fish was constipated. Who knew?  I am the life of parties, let me tell you, now that I have this information to share.

So a year later, Fish is still fine, a few ups and downs to balance a food change, water changes and vacuuming up le poop du poisson. Great site, fantastic information – especially finding out that Goldfish can tell apart different faces!

Fishie Jan 2015

I still don’t really want a goldfish but will admit that I was pretty worried about the little thing when it was at the bottom of the tank. And I will also admit that I now like to watch Fish eat supper. But don’t tell anyone.

Just like you’d say “a herd of cows”, you’d say “a troubling of goldfish”!

via Goldfish Facts – Top 10 Goldfish Facts – The Goldfish Tank.

The most important this I learned? How very little food they need. Seriously – just a couple of little flakes each day – and *that’s all*. They look like they are starving but they aren’t.

Fin.

So a missionary walks into a bar…

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Connect the Dots

“It seems the missionary was invited to dinner by the local folks without perusing the menu, which would have disclosed that he was the dinner.”

When was the last time you felt as if you were the dinner? Minding your own business and wham – sideswiped and caught off guard.

Maybe it was yesterday at the grocery store when someone was beyond rude. Maybe it was at work (I almost typed office, but then realized that not everyone is unfortunate enough to work in one) and you were suddenly accountable for the outcome of something for which you had no responsibility – and hear about it from the boss that has no business being a boss.

Are you feeling as if you’ve been chopped up into little pieces by someone so that you’ll cook faster? (Not for real, silly, but just figuratively.)

Skewered? Roasted? Baked? Broiled?

Someone I know (and try my best to avoid) prefers to microwave others – you know, get things done quickly.  And the pour on the ”gravy” to try and make it better.

All of this from a book about …

book cover

Image Search

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Image Search

Ha. Well played, WordPress. I see what you’re doing here.  How the heck do I post an image in this newbie screwme blog?

index

HA. Skills, I got ’em.

Back to the issue at hand, what does the 11th image of holiday bring to mind? A toss up.

First this means a ‘family’ vacation, of which I do not want to do. Plan, ask, organize and wind up having to the whatever someone else wants to do rather than what I want to do, or risk the same verbal putdowns that I can just as easily hear at home. Or just like at home, being treated like a little kid while the grown up in the relationship ignores me. It means stress, germs and laundry/put everything away upon return.

Second, it means the time is coming when I will be able to take this holiday and actually enjoy myself and do what I would like to do, which is both spend time alone and spend time with someone that is actually fun and pleasant to be with…

Thirdly, it brings to mind the reality that you can’t run away from your problems. The very things you are getting away from will be there when you get back.

Fourthly, a change is as good as a rest. I’ll take a double of both please, sin hielo.

Well *that* didn’t work.

Audience of One

An open letter to Me.

Post a day said write a letter to one person you wish would be reading your blog.  Hmmm.  Mom?  No. Dad? Not really. Those other people in my life?  No, not them either.

How about my sweet Miss Dixie? My giant black dog of 13 years? I was there at the beginning and at the end and I still miss her.

Made me weep just to think of the things I would want to say to her, the things I used to say, the things that I still say from time to time when I realize that she’s not here, still not here, not here anymore.

Writing and crying, as we’ve all done, I abandoned ship on the post, still with the intent to hit publish.

Then I realized I was writing in the wrong blog. Abandon ship indeed.

Miss you.

I think, therefore I want a sandwich

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You, the Sandwich

The Daily Post prompt asks me to describe myself as a sandwich.  Uh, not today folks.  Sandwiches only truly taste best when someone else has made them. Best of all when made for you by someone who loves you (or wants you to love them). Freshest of soft breads, usually right from the bakery (on the way home from a lovely market ‘date’ – the bakery close to the short little person with the open-air flower shop where tulips/roses/mixed bouquet/insert your favourite flowers were bought to adorn the table).  Carefully sliced things layered carefully between the outside slices.  Given to you on your favourite plate or the unchipped plate, depending on the level of love or attraction.

Imagine someone taking the time to  make a sandwich for you, just because you are loved?