Wow, it’s been awhile! I have been living my life with family, friends, crafting, napping, exercise, food logging, watching British mystery and crime shows, Netflix, Prime Video, and Covid fears! I have to say I do enjoy the freedom of retirement, but do try to keep busy.

I suddenly felt the desire to write and check in with my blog. I haven’t written poetry or anything for close to a couple years. I just didn’t feel it. Do I now? Yes, but I am again unsure about my focus. I have had several blogs through the years, each with some kind of focus. This will take some thought. Do I feel like writing poetry, personal news, stories, what?

I will be leaving for Book Club in a few minutes so I will end here and come back a bit later. In the meantime

Be happy and safe!

Bad Day


lying here, no energy

body broken and battered, reminding me today

choking on numerous meds taken too quickly

wanting only to get them down

normally smiling acceptance of the struggle

nothing but frustration this beautiful Sunday

                      stay positive; be an example for others; trials make one stronger

this too shall pass

the walls feel too close these hours

squeezing life from this soul

overwhelmed with attempts at hiding

watching the world pass by

the fatigue that grounds me; visiting now

realizing it is temporary, aware of the crash

you can get through this; depression not an option; fight and be tough
this too shall pass

not a good day for chronic illness; temporary and fading
rest without guilt; allow the body to heal; recovery
this too shall pass

photo credit:×314.jpg

How Do We Move On


Paralyzed by tragedy
Stricken with reality

Our world is in chaos
As if in an ugly séance

We all cry and mourn
No answers in this storm

The world continues to turn
While hearts on slow burn

One catastrophe turns into another
France today, brother hurting brother

More souls crushed in an instant
Too close for something so distant

Too many lives shattered
As if no lives matter

No reason for this madness
Tears flowing not of gladness

We ask how to move on
With so many now gone

Last week it was brutality
Searching souls for morality

Many a badge gunned down
A proud but wounded town

At high volume yell and shove
“Where is the peace and love?”

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Personal Reflection

July 17. 2015
What did you get in trouble for the most when you were a kid?

The pictures I see of my youth are so sweet. I was a beautiful child with long, curly hair of brown. I was blessed with beauty, love, security, all that a child should have or want. I was raised by two very good people and, in time, had seven wonderful, loving siblings. What could I possibly do to get in trouble with all this?Apparently, I was a little thief!  I can’t remember how old I was, but I had to be between 5 and 8 years of age. I have no idea where it came from, but I remember at least three instances where I stole money or property from others.It is interesting how certain memories of our youth stay with us. This is usually because the core memory was wonderful or terribly traumatic. These memories of thievery were not wonderful!

We had a discount store across the field from our neighborhood. This place was called Globe. Somehow, and I honestly do not know how, I discovered some silver 50 cent John Kennedy coins in my mother’s dresser drawer. I knew they had monetary value because I began to take one, then two, three, or more. I would walk to Globe to buy things like candy, coloring books, crayons, etc. I did this two or three times before my mother realized what was happening. When she did find out what I was doing, she went berserk. My mother adored John Kennedy, but I didn’t know how important these coins were to her. She had every right to be angry and, believe me, I got it! I felt so badly afterwards that when I had a dollar bill, I put it in the same spot in her drawer. I did not realize she was not upset over the value of the money, but rather the principal of someone taking something that meant so much to her. It was a valuable and sentimental collection for her. What a terrible thing to do to my mother.

Another time I walked to Globe and hung around the candy and gum area. This area was off to the side a bit and hidden back in those days. or so I thought! This was probably one of the times I bought something with my mother’s treasure and had it in a bag. I then hung around the sweets area and eventually put a pack of gum in my bag.  As I walked past the information desk towards the exit, a woman stopped me. She wanted to chat and see what I had in my bag. I remember her being extremely nice, but keeping the gum. I can’t remember what the woman said to me but I do remember her taking the gum out of the bag while smiling. I then left and walked home sans gum!

A third time that I remember well was when I got a basket and walked to the neighbors’ houses ringing doorbells and singing at their doors.  I was singing Christmas carols and asking for money for the poor.  They would give me change and I would go on my way.  One neighbor called my mother and I again got in some trouble for being a little thief.  You see, I had no intention of giving the money to anyone else and my mother knew it.  My mother was a smart woman!

There are a couple things about these stories that still have me stumped. I went to Catholic schools my entire life and knew stealing was a sin.  What was I thinking and why was I a thief? Remembering these experiences made me think of something else. What child today around 5-to-8 years of age is allowed to walk alone through a neighborhood, across a field, to a shopping center full of people, to shop by herself? We just don’t do these things anymore. It is too dangerous. My childhood was so innocent compared to today, but those stories are for another time.

I still wonder why I became a little thief because I would not do it today. I just would not take anyone’s money or property without their permission. I do not have the slightest bit of temptation to do this. I suppose you can say somehow, through all the madness of my youth, I fortunately learned a valuable lesson.