Not Feeling Well, Breathing A Little Labored But I Have Pockets

I stick my hands in them while walking from time to time. You know, it’s those little things…

Limbo, everybody limbo, limbo all the day slipping under the highway cables then standing straightening up feeling a little woozy, actually more than that and onward. Gray days while March lets the seasons argue with each other as it does taking no sides though many prisoners. Hot, cold, warmer, cool, turbulent winds and rain and then sun, don’t get used to 70 for tomorrow it may snow sounds like normal midwestern weather on any given day but now it’s everyday. Listen to that wind whistling, yes whistling, foreboding, thunderstorms coming again. Maybe March rains will bring April flowers and bump up the first day of summer to May. Sounds reasonable. Not a new theme, it’s all been said before but there’s more than one way to put things like more than one way to skin a cat, an interesting idiom. Need to remember that one for an English lesson. Surprise and controversy instigating conversation like the many ways to say hello?

One can only hope.


Aging With Dignity And Grace


The hell you say.

There was a t-shirt that said “Getting Old Isn’t For Wimps” with a picture of a wrinkled Rosie the Riveter, sleeve rolled up still sporting the muscle. It was on Facebook, and you know how it goes, if you don’t save it or share it it could disappear. If I ever find it again I’m buying one, and I’m not a t-shirt person as a rule, but let me tell you…

This week I worked ten hour shifts, something I haven’t done since medical and that was 20 years ago. Am I adding right, I quit for good in 1997, so 2007, 2017, yup… how is it possible, still in those days it was 12 hour shifts 7pm to 7am. Can’t say I’ve missed them. Two of the kids in my classroom who happen to be infants come in very early and I was accommodating parents and the one staff member who opens the center. My schedule will be more organized this coming week, but I have to say my heart may have been in the right place but my body is still saying ouch.

Last night I left work with whatever wind it was, beyond second, nonetheless a spring in my step, caught the bus to a stop close to where I thought I’d treat myself to dinner, then stop at the grocery store for a few things and head across the highway and home. It was all in the same shopping area. I was fairly lucid ordering, paying with tip, then began winding down as I ate. When I left I felt the first signs of honest wear on my body, but chin up I hiked down the strip to the grocery store where I bought stuff weighing more than I wanted to carry. After checkout getting ready to exit the store, one of the assistant managers told me to feel free to push the cart to the end of the lot. Being a regular he knew I walked. After I’d parked the cart and had bags slung I really felt it. It’s been a while since I’ve prayed but I hoped I’d have strength enough to make it up the incline and across the way. My body asked ‘can we rest now’? “Not yet, almost there.”

What a relief walking through the front door, dropping totes on the floor! (No worries, no eggs!) There wasn’t a place on me that didn’t ache from wear.

Typing this now I still have sand in my eyes. Remember that expression? It’s real. I did push it a little this morning by sneaking back across the street before it was light to pick up the last few things that gratefully weighed less than what was carted home the evening before. Getting organized in the store I thought my legs might buckle, my eyes wanted to close and open up later. Guess I’ll be rethinking how to bounce back. My retirement officially begins Wednesday, December 6th. I will be there at 7 but leave at 1. I have social security, no pension so work I must, nonetheless these hours will be like vacationing at Club Med.

Sweet bliss.

My 83 year old mom’d told me she has big ideas and starts her day like she always did years ago, but realizes like it or not she has to rest, she gets tired and can’t do it the way she used to.

I get it. Definitely not for wimps.





  Denim Shorts High In The Cheek




Flannel Shirts


Warm arms around me so strong, durable, won’t hurt or cause any pain especially with the right fabric softener. That smell on your skin for the most part safe though should I fall asleep wrapped in one and get tangled, I’ll delight in the symbolism of it all an embrace so move over, ease out and back to sleep I can drift. So many of you write your woes, these men, those men, men over time, why don’t they love me the way I love, I mean I love myself, I do! Why am I the only one?


Walked right into that didn’t you, a major clue, your own design?


No, no it cannot be!


Yeah, I’m afraid so… hehehehehe.


The defense rests.






Remember When


There’s nothing there to hurt, no root this is phantom pain in my head throbbing my sinuses mercilessly. Pay attention, don’t you hear, nothing should be hurting, but no roots or their memory at that weren’t paying attention at all. I’d had a bridge, and procedure dictates the dentist removes the roots. I didn’t feel a thing, he never hurt me one in a million as it were. I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes. Remember when was the last thing I needed, should never have been on the list. Stop now, you don’t exist!




Propaganda And Peace Treaties

Did the AC kick on? Is that me? Gee, I hope not, I’ve the door open and the fan on to let fresh air in to clear my head, unstuff my nose from artificial cool, so I get up and wander through listening. It’s everyone else outside as all units kicked in but mine. Good. Let’s see how far into the morning I can go before the door must be closed and the AC gets to play. For now birds chirp loud and clear, land on the wood rail looking for stale bread… word got around I leave stuff out from time to time. You just never know when.

And so the morning begins, the sky brightens a bit, cool breeze on my legs and an espresso before it’s too hot out to drink it. Of course, nothing wrong with it iced.

That reminds me…

Iced coffee might seem simple, even as a request in a café but not everywhere. I was teaching in Istanbul and of course frequented the local Starbucks, a prestigious place for coffee according to many Turks. One day I ordered an iced espresso, an item not on the list of coffees served. To my surprise I totally confused the two baristas behind the counter. It was easier for them to think I was a buffoon who didn’t know her coffee than for them to add ice to my espresso. My best charades getting us nowhere I wasn’t much better toward them totally aghast they couldn’t fulfill my simple request. I got it hot and we parted making cranky faces at each other. The next time I went the lightbulb was on. I ordered espresso, then asked for a cup of ice. Easy. They were wondering what I was doing but I had made two understandable requests exclusive of each other. First I added sugar to the hot beverage then took the espresso and poured it over the ice. I raised my cup and smiled big, they looked with delighted surprise at the cup, then each other laughing. They told their manager about it. After that it was put on the menu: Iced Coffee.

We were temporarily lost in translation, no more than that resulting in a chip being made in the language barrier, a hand extended toward getting along. Good business I think.



So It’s June Of 2017

Does it still feel new or are we caught in the everyday forgetting a new year, resolutions, how to do things different, all the promises we make to ourselves? I’ve got to tell you what I’m becoming aware of is how stuff outside me wants me to throw in the towel and succumb to whatever stuff outside me is shoveling. I guess the point is “outside of me” as long as I keep it that way.

Now there’s a step.

Today is beautiful and cool, 60 degrees, low humidity, a treasure for this part of the world. I’m sitting here wearing a light sweater over shorts and a sleeveless top scratching my head over how my iCloud storage can remain almost full when all I do is remove stuff from my iPhone.

What was the outcome? I pay 99 cents a month for more storage…

Think I’ll Make Bran Muffins

Sitting unmotivated in the best way. Listening to chirping, feeling the cool before it reaches almost 80, in a couple shots of espresso, and looking around the living room wile, beguile, while my little guest plays his games on the tablet. The most energy I want to spend is sighing although I will brush my teeth.

Then I thought about the scant half bag of generic raisin bran crunch.

I’ll turn it into muffins. The recipe easy enough I can mix it by hand with a whisk and not disturb what’s peaceful including me.

Only one thing left to do.

Get up from the chair…