About That Bra

Sometimes I forget that even though this blog is published in a county newspaper, I can still write about whatever I want.  There may be articles that the newspaper feels they cannot print but, that's OK, I can still write them.

With that being said, I would like to journey back to the last item listed in the last blog.....the sports bra.  

I was really excited about this bra because I only have one sports bra and my thought was it would be nice to have at least two.

Why I thought there was enough material to cover my needs will forever remain a mystery.  I guess I was lost in some weird time warp where I thought I was still 20 something.  Or maybe I was relying on the stretch factor.  Well, I can tell you that Stretch Armstrong would have covered more than this bra.

Even before I put it on I was looking at it with my head cocked to one side.  Since I had relied on the hanger it was on, for the appropriate size, I began to have my doubts.

When I got it on and looked in the mirror, I suddenly remembered a birthday card my sisters, Lela and Blanche, gave me one year.....I believe it was for my 50th birthday.  The card had a picture of a woman with a tiny bra on and the rest of her boobs where bulging out all over the place.  It read something like this, "After all these years, Ruth still wears her lucky bra."

That's exactly what I looked like.  I even tried to rearrange the ladies to see if that would make it fit.  When I pushed everything up, that was hanging out the bottom, it all smushed out the top and what would not smush out the top went somewhere under my arms.
I felt like one of those stress reliever balls.  The kind that when you squeeze it on one side, the rest of the ball blobs out the other side.  

If it had not been so hysterical, it would have been depressing.  So, since I had delightfully cut all the tags off of it, someone will inherit this ancy-fancy sports bra and I shall persevere to find  another.  One that a at least has more material than a hanky.

New Things

During this time of the year, my husband has been accused, more than once, of buying himself something.  It does not particularly matter what it is he buys, but the man can go an entire 11 months and never purchase a thing.  Come close to December and he decides he needs something.....his children are never cheery about this.  He has agreed not to do it this year, but he still has a gift card from last year and I'm pretty sure I saw it smoldering the other day.

Recently, I had to purchase some new things myself.  I don't think any family member will be upset about my recent purchases....they really do not fall into the gift category.  

Having made several trips to the dentist in the last few months, I was advised to get two things.  An electric, sonic toothbrush and a water pick.  These certainly did not sound like exciting items, but one's teeth are rather helpful to keep. 

For once, I did not buy these online, but found them at the local big box store, the one where people's pictures end up on some social media platform....and they are never flattering and this store is darn near next door.  It did not take long to find the items and they had smaller, more "condensed" models of what I needed.  This was a plus as I was already wondering where I was going to put them.

After getting home with my new purchases, I quickly opened the boxes because both items needed to be charged before I could use them.  When this was accomplished, I set down to read the entire instructions on how to use them.  The sonic toothbrush was pretty self explanatory, turn it on and let it brush the teeth.  The instructions for the water pick said to put it in the mouth before turning it on.  Well, duh, I thought, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. 

When the 24 hour charging time was done, I was ready to try out the new equipment.  First to floss with water.  Pulling the trigger on this baby, while in the mouth, was akin to getting hit in the face with the garden hose nozzle set on JET.  The water pressure was surely just under what comes out of the fire hydrant and I was certainly glad it was warm water or it may have felt like a brain freeze of the worst magnitude.  Then.....I pulled it out of my mouth....without turning it off....my shirt was covered with stripes of water within seconds.  All I can say are two things, at least it wasn't pointed towards my eye and I believe the design flaw is there is a separate button for off.....which I now keep my thumb on.

Then it was time for the sonic toothbrush.  I was soon to learn why it was called sonic because when I placed it on my teeth I feared they might be vibrated right out of my mouth.  Luckily they did not and I have gotten the hang of just how to use this tool.....along with remembering to make sure it is in my mouth before it is turned on.  Unless I really want my toothpaste thrown in 400 different directions, at once.

The last purchase was a sports bra.  It was from one of those fancy-ancy stores that think their stuff is WAY better than what other sports wear stores have.  Plus, it was on sale...the last plus for my shopping antics. 

A word to the wise, never go by the size that is stamped on the hanger.  Otherwise you will know the true meaning of Dolly Parton's famous line....10 pounds of mud in a 5 pound sack.

Road Trip Destination

A hillside topped with a stand of oak trees, the kind that keep their dead brown leaves clinging to the branches until the first hint of spring, glowed like electric rust as the last sun rays of the day shined upon them before slipping below the horizon.  A small doe made her way out of the tall brown grass to nibble on what was left of a small patch of green grass.  A Great Blue Heron stepped ever so cautiously along the shallows by the bank in search of an unfortunate small fish, or two.  The scenic views in this area never fail to delight the senses, no matter the season.  The Lake of the Ozarks always feels like home.

When did this madness begin?  How many years ago?  25 or longer, 30?  It was a great idea though, why, almost a patriotic duty.  A girls weekend shopping trip to help boost the economy.....the best reason ever to spend money.

It started, years ago, with the women in my family.  Sisters Lela and Blanche, Mother, myself and my daughters and it always happened on Mother's Day weekend.  We would leave for the lake on a Friday, shop and eat and return on Sunday.

A few years after this annual ritual began, the women on my husband's side of the family started their own money sacrificing ritual too and chose the weekend around Veteran's Day, or the middle of November.  This was dubbed the annual Christmas shopping trip.  This tribe includes my husbands' sisters, their daughters and his daughters (and now granddaughters) along with all the female members of aunts and cousins who live in Oklahoma.

It had been some time since I had joined the latter group.  I had all kinds of reasons for not going but this year, something made me change my mind.  I do not know exactly what it was, but it seemed like I was being led to attend.  As my plane followed the giant, winding serpent that is the Mississippi River, up to St. Louis, a feeling of being in the right place at the right time fell over me.

The very best thing about these gatherings is not the items that are bought, nor the food that is consumed, but the magic that happens when everyone is in one place.  That magic is the sound of laughter.  The shenanigans that take place, whether it be playing some crazy game or reliving something that happened during the day, leave us breathless with aching mid-sections.  Fourteen females, in one place, laughing like idiots made us all thankful we were in a remote area because there was definitely a disturbance of the peace going on.  Laughing until the tears flow is a great way to cleanse the soul.

Sunday came all too soon.  Everyone packed their vehicles and made numerous "one last time" searches to see if anything had been left behind.  One last stop at the outlet mall and we said our final goodbyes.

A light rain fell as the rental car and I made our way back to the airport.  I set the cruise control at the speed limit.  There was no need to hurry, my plane did not leave until the next day.  The other travelers sped past me in their hurry to return home.  I would need to catch 70 East at Kingdom City and I wondered if I could do that without stopping.  As the exit approached, I moved to the left hand lane and turned the opposite way.  There, looming ahead of me, was what made me stop.

It is a giant building that sort of gives the impression that it could pass as a barn.  On the peak of its roof is a huge sign that reads, "O Z A R K L A N D".  It is not the only building of its kind.  There are others and though this one is the only one I had ever been in, I'm pretty sure their contents were all the same.  If ever there were a place to get a souvenir from the Lake of the Ozarks, this would be the place.  It used to be the final stop during the Mother's Day weekend, on our way back to the beautiful land of Pike.

I pulled the car to a stop at the outer edge of the parking lot.  Wow, it had been a long time since I had been in there, nearly ten years.  The rain drops that trickled down the window, masked the ones that slid down my cheeks.  Things change in life.  People come and people go.  We miss them but we know we must go on.  A large sign on the middle of the building read, "Road Stop Destination".  Yes.  Yes it was....but not today.  There simply was not room for another wind chime on my deck and I certainly did not need any fudge.  Besides, I believe that somewhere there is an unwritten law that says to never go in there alone.

We Could Have

It was a spur of the moment decision.  Those, in retrospect, are usually not the best laid plans of mice and men.  But, I did it anyway.  Nothing too new about that either.

A performer was coming to town.  Up until a few months ago, I had never even heard of this person, although I had heard a few of his songs.  That being in true Ruth form, my children would attest to the fact that their mother never knew the name of the singer or band, but did know most of the words to the particular song in question.  They would also attest to the fact that I usually waited until they were surrounded by their friends and then I belted out a few lines so they could be mortified.

The performer was Post Malone.  I had done a little research on him because back in July, I was asked to use one of his songs for a "Birthday Ditty"....something else I do.....that will surely be a riot at my wake.

Post Malone is a rap/hiphop and whatever else they call it, artist.  He was born Austin Richard Post and turned a whopping 24 years old this past July.  His father was a DJ and Austin Richard Post was exposed to many different types music.

In short, the kid is a self made success story, has sold over 60 million records and is a great example of never giving up on ones' dream.

My husband and I are both in our 60's.  This was the first major concert either of us had ever been to.  Seriously, I kid you not.  When I asked him if he wanted to go, I had to sing a couple of lines of one of the songs so he would know who we were going to see.  The tickets were purchased and we only had to wait a couple of days until concert time.  

The concert was held at the PNC arena, which seats nearly 20,000, here in Raleigh.  The PNC arena is home to the Carolina Hurricanes of the National Hockey League and the NC State Wolfpack men's basketball team.......and anyone who knows me well can bet their double hockey sticks I had to Google that information.  

The concert was to start at 8 p.m.  Even though we are only about 15 minutes from the arena and this being our first adventure of this sort, we thought it would be a good idea to get there early.  We were in our seats by 7:30.  As we looked out over the arena, we saw lots of empty seats.  Perhaps Post Malone did not draw a very big crowd, we thought. 

When the clock struck 8, the first opening act came on stage.  When the clock struck something after 9, the second opening act came on stage.  Both of these young performers were rappers and we knew none of their songs.   Now, for those of you who just rolled your eyes and mumbled something about rap music, understand this.....by the time the second opening act came on, the arena was nearly full.  It was full of young millennials and I would venture to guess that every nationality on the face of God's green earth was represented in the crowd.  Guess what?  Everyone of those young people knew every single word of every single song both rappers sang.  Even the young couple behind us, who spoke no English to each other, sang their hearts out with the rest of the crowd.

Shortly after 10, Post made his appearance amid a cloud of dry ice smoke, laser lights and lots applause due to a nearly packed house.  We sang along to the three songs we knew and listened to everyone else sing the rest.  I cannot end without saying Post Malone has an amazing voice.

We learned three things from our first concert experience.  1.  We probably won't do that again.  2.  Now we understand why the seats didn't fill up until later.  3.  If they had been handing out prizes for the oldest people there, we could have won.

Were We Meant To?

I have a deck of cards that I use daily during the week.  They are Chakra cards.  Chakras are the seven power centers of the body.  The root chakra, located in the pelvic region, sacral chakra located between the pelvic region and the naval.  The solar plexus chakra located at the naval.  The heart chakra, location same as the name.  The throat chakra, at the throat.  The brow, or third eye chakra located right between the eyes, in front of the pituitary gland which is located deep in the lower region of the brain.  Last but not least, the crown chakra, located at the top of the head.  These are seven of 114  chakras.  Each chakra has a related color: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple and white.  Back to the cards.  There are seven cards for each chakra and each card has a story that goes with it.  These cards were created by Tori Hartman and the stories were told to her by angels as she healed from a severe accident that had caused her to have a NDE, near death experience.

I put these cards on an online social media platform during the week, Monday through Friday.  Now, before someone goes running down the hallway screaming "Good grief!  She's conjuring up demons!  Run for your life!"  No, I am not.  It's just a helpful thought for the day that may help someone else who reads it.  The card for the day was the "Workaholic".  The meaning behind the card is very much like the old adage, "All work and no play, makes Joe, or whoever, a dull boy.   It means that it is necessary to take time to have fun and enjoy life.  By doing so, ones' work can be enhanced and  performed possibly even better than before.   Plus, it helps to alleviate getting burned out.  The card can also mean that perhaps a person is keeping themselves so busy as to avoid what they really should be doing.  That particular meaning resonates with me way too often.

The card for the day got a response from a person who said work, work, work was what they did to keep out of the nursing home.  That comment made me think.  Were we meant to work until we fall into that six foot hole?  Is work good for us?  Maybe we are getting work confused with a job.  We all know that a job is something we must do, so to speak, to make ends meet but we shouldn't have to do that job until death do us part.   Should we retire?  Then what?

That may be the answer.  Retirement should not mean doing absolutely nothing.  Sitting in a recliner or on the couch watching TV for hours on end and eating junk food or staring at a cell phone all day can do as much damage physically as smoking.  That is why the new catch phrase is, "sitting is the new smoking".  Our bodies were not made to be docile.  They were made to move and when we quit moving them, they begin to break down.  So, if you have retired from a job or are working your fingers to the bone be sure to take time for yourself.  Have fun, try something new, take a walk or turn on the radio and dance like there is no tomorrow.  Take nothing for granted and leave no stones un-turned.  Keep on keeping on, even when you don't want to.  At the end of the day, you'll feel better about yourself and your body will thank you.  

Time Will Tell

Learning how things work can be a lifetime achievement.  Not that it is necessary to understand every single thing, but sometimes an eye opener comes along that makes one take stock of their surroundings.

The apartment complex that we call "home" recently changed hands, ownership.  This isn't the first time, since we have been here, it's the second.

Let me back up a bit.  When I first arrived here I was astounded at the number of apartment complexes.  Coming from a small mid-western town explains a lot of that.  What I did not take into account is that these complexes are a necessary evil, people need places to live.  Raleigh attracts a huge number of people each year and it would be ridiculous to think that all these people are going to live in individual houses.  If that were to be the case, Raleigh, NC would encompass most of the eastern side of the state, as would any other large metropolis.  So, the relentless pursuit of a small chunk of land continues and the apartment complexes are sprouting up all over the city.  

A lot of the people who come here are just starting out, on their own and need affordable housing.  Some people really like apartment style living.  They have no other responsibilities to worry about such as property taxes, lawn care, HOA's, repairs and maintenance.   Regardless of the situation, apartment complexes provide a place to call home.  

Most complexes are owned by real estate investors and investors are always on the look out on how to increase their profits.  When our complex sold the first time, since we have been here, the new investors did something remarkable.  They took a look at the numbers this place generated.  The numbers were good and they had gotten steadily better because of the work force that was in place and had been in place for several months.  When the new investors bought the property, they kept the same work force and had the original investors handle the employees just as they always had.  Now, things are different, much different.

The new investors have plans to spend a lot of money to make a lot of changes on the property.  They saw no need to continue, as the last owners had done, as far as the work force was concerned.  What that ended up equating to was everyone that my husband has worked with over the last three years are gone.  There are over 360 apartments here and now his face is the only familiar face for all these people.  Only then did we realize that this may be just one apartment complex in thousands, but it is home to many people and some of them have been here for years.  Kind of like a small town in the mid west.  

Some of these people feel like they have been abandoned.  Left for the wolves, so to speak.  Time will tell if that is correct.

From The Desk of The Dog

Hello everyone!  It's Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier here to serve you!  Mom is laying on the floor with cold, wet teabags on her eyes.  I'm tellin' ya, Mom is weird.

While Mom is being weird, I want to tell you about a trick I have taught her.  Mom has taught me some tricks.  I can sit, lay down and roll over really fast, I do that all in one movement, no need to wait for her to say "rollover" as far as I'm concerned.  I can shake paws, stand pretty, which is pretty stupid and jump while I'm standing on my back legs.  I know all the names of my toys and they all start with Mr.  and I can find them when I'm asked to do so.  The only thing Mom hasn't been able to teach me is how to put my toys back in the basket.  Maybe some day I'll relent and do it for her, but today ain't that day.

Anyway, I taught Mom this great trick.  We do it almost everyday as long as it's not too cold outside.  Me and Mom and Dad sit out on our deck a lot.  Since it's on the second floor, Mom and Dad put up a barrier, made out of what Mom call lattice, so I don't jump through the spindles.  See, that's a quirk about JRT's, we tend to get so focused on whatever we are focused on and forget about where we might be.  So, if we are sitting on something really high off the ground and we be focused on a squirrel, we just jump.  This lattice is tall enough to keep me from jumping but I can stand on my back legs and look out over the top of it.  My all time favorite toy is my collar-ball.  Just what it sounds like.  It's a ball that has a hole in it and in the hole is a red collar.  It's kinda like a ball with a loop.  I play fetch with this every single day, three or four times a day.  When we all sit out on the deck, Mom and Day leave the door open a little bit and throw my collar-ball through the opening, back into the living room.  This is great fun but when I get tired of it, I bring it back out onto the deck.  I go to the far end of the deck and try to push my collar-ball over the lattice.  This always brings loud shouts of "Don't you do it!" from Mom and Dad.  About after the third time of hearin' them say that, I drop the collar-ball over the lattice.
Then, I look at it and I cry about it.  It's a great act!

Now for the bestest part.  After a bit more whining on my part, Mom gets out of her chair.  She opens up the outside storage closet and reaches inside and brings out a fishin' pole!  This is so exciting!
She takes that pole and puts it out over the deck railing and lets down a long string.  I'm not sure what is on the end of it, but after a few tries, Mom starts to reel in the string and there on the end of it is my collar-ball!  Mom has gotten really good at this trick and that is why we practice it everyday.  I don't want her to lose her touch and I always tell her, "Good Mom".

Well, gotta go.  Mom is wondering what I'm up to and I was just giving some serious thought to stealing somepin' off her desk! Woof!

The Water Pot

It does not seem like it was that long ago.  Sometimes it feels like it was yesterday.  There are two constants that help to keep this particular reality in check.  One, a birthday and two, the youngest grandson.  The youngest grandson is 12, born two months before the deportation, for lack of a better substitute word.  

Mother has been gone for a little over 12 years.  She decided to die on my birthday.  My 51st birthday.  Keeping track of how long she has been gone is so easy.  Living with that, not so much.  

I remind myself that Mother went many years without her own mother.  Mother was in her late twenties when her mom died.  They said she died from a broken heart.  Mother's dad had died about six months before her mom.   The joys of being a late in life child.  So, yeah, she went without seeing her parents for over 60 years.   Being a late in life child, Mother's parents were long gone before I came around and I do not ever recall asking Mother about them.  There were no grandparents from either Mother or Dad, at least not for me.

What was she doing when she was the age I am now?  After a few mental calculations, she was in the beginning stages of taking care of Dad.  He had been given 3 years to live.  Wonder what would have happened if they had given him 10 years....or 20....or 30?  Guess we will never know the answer to that one.   Mother took that job of caretaker with the help of no one else.  Not that there was not help offered from time to time, it was part of her nature and part of her place as his wife.  It wasn't a real job, it was an act of love.  Part of the deal, the package, the good with the bad, the better or worse stuff.  One day, when she had wrestled Dad into a nearby wheel chair she looked up to see him gazing longingly at her.  She asked, "What?"  He said he was just wondering about how it would be if the roles had been reversed.  She snorted and said, "Let's not go there."  She moved him every single day from the time he could not do it without her help.  She never let him lay for very long at a time.  She cared for his body as best she could, even though it was wasting away before her eyes.  Dad always said Mother was never happy unless she had something torn up or remodeling some part of the house.  That same description went hand in hand with the care she gave him. 

Mother was the glue.  The glue that kept things together.  She liked to entertain, have family over for whatever holiday might be at hand.  She was happy with neighbors that had no need to knock, they were always welcome.  Things have been so different since she left.  Some days it is hard not to be melancholy....or simply put, feel sorry for oneself.

Looking at the water pot on the counter, the memory of when it was purchased was as fresh in my mind as if it had been yesterday.  We, Mother, Lela, Blanche, myself and my two daughters, were on our annual shopping trip.  Something we did every Mother's Day weekend for many years.  Mother was with me in the store and when I picked up the box from the shelf, to take a closer look, she said to me, "That will be the best thing you ever buy."  My response was, "Really?"
"Yes!", she answered.  "You will absolutely love it!" 

She was right.  It was an electric water pot and it has boiled more water than flows down the Mississippi.  That might be an exaggeration, but not much of one.  It has gone on trips and was one of the first kitchen gadgets to be packed for the move to the south east.  In the last couple of years, it had started to malfunction.  It would not shut off when the water started to boil.  Eventually, it would shut off, but not until it had bubbled, gurgled and spewed boiling water all over the counter.  It's been another constant, for 15 years, maybe longer,  but it was time to be replaced.  

The new model is a sporty little number with a ring of blue LED lights at the bottom....to let the user know the power is on.  I carried the old one out to the dumpster.  I wanted to make its passing as symbolic as possible.  I stood back a few feet and tried to punt the water pot through the hole in the dumpster.  That didn't work.  I picked it up, took a step back, tossed it into the air and with my best overhand volleyball serve, I spiked that pot to the far right corner of the dumpster.   As I walked away, I laughed out loud, knowing  Mother enjoyed the show.  It was very reminiscent of the time she  chucked the bare and bony Thanksgiving turkey carcass right out of the kitchen window. 

Sunset

A Great Blue Heron crossed the wide expanse of sky.  Its long legs trailed behind while its neck, folded ever so eloquently, rested neatly on its back.  She watched its uninterrupted flight until it was out of sight.  She had always marveled at the heron, pondering if it was a distant relative of a pterodactyl.

She had come to this place to watch the sun set.  Something she had not seen in a long time.  She was not to see it this time either as a large bank of clouds rose up in the far western sky.  There were no other clouds in the sky, just those and they were in the way.  It did not matter, the sound of absolutely nothing surrounded her and there was much solace to find in that quietness.

She decided to watch the sunset anyway.  It was a wise choice.  Although the giant glowing ball of gas could not be seen, it began to paint a picture on the back of the canvas of clouds and the colors started to bleed through the mist.  For the most part, the cloud bank throbbed with a dull shade of orange.  But, as the earth turned away from the sun, the orange began to brighten.  As this happened, the edges of the clouds seemed to come alive.  They shimmered with nearly the white light of electricity.  It looked as though molten silver was flowing around each cloud.  It may not have had all the colors she had hoped for, but the pulsing silver lining had her full attention.  It was almost mesmerizing.  Perhaps a cloud with a silver lining was what she was meant to see.  

The sun continued its descent and the orange hues and silver lining were no longer visible.  Just a big cloud bank in the western sky.  She scanned the rest of the empty sky to see if any stars or planets were visible.  None that she could see.  Just lots of open endless sky.  She knew if she sat there long enough, she would see them, but there was something so comforting about that huge sky.  It seemed to speak to her.  Her.  One tiny person in the vastness of the universe was made to feel like she belonged.  She belonged to something that perhaps she could not see right now, but it was big and it was powerful and it was full of love.  It was full of hope and full of promise and it seemed to endow these things to her.  But, the message she received told her she already had all these things and more, she had simply forgotten about them.  The things of the world had been in the way, trying to turn her into one of its wanton slaves.  That made sense to her.  She had not touched her phone in days, nor did she miss it and it felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted without it.  

She stood up and walked back down the path she had taken to reach this natural seat in natures' amphitheater.  A new found confidence followed closely behind.  

Happy Autumn

Cobwebs that sparkle with morning sun dew drops.

Yellow, red, gold leaves are falling on roof tops.

Locust that spin upside down, round and round.

Grasshoppers hopping all over the ground.

Acorns are falling and gathered by squirrels.

Combines in fields, corn leaves ride high on wind swirls.

Sweatshirts in the morning, shorts after midday,

Bright orange pumpkins and bales of hay.

The sun bids Earth farewell, the shadows grow longer.

The mercury dips and the winds become stronger.

Festivals, football, bonfires at night.

Hill sides of trees that glow with morning's light.

Bounty and harvest, fresh apple cider,

Crickets that chirp a welcome to the spiders.

Blue jeans and boots that have gathered some dust, 

Hot bowls of chili and fresh baked pie crust.

Summer blows kisses to her lover, in hot pursuit.

Even though she knows that his chase is but moot.

Purple, red, golden sunsets that color the sky,

All of these things prove that Autumn is nigh.

 For those who remember, the words can be put to the tune of "My Favorite Things".  You're welcome and Happy Autumn!

Why We Like Them

What makes us fall for them?  Is it because we are bored and looking for some excitement?  Do they take our minds off of other day to day worries and the grind?  Maybe we think, if only they are true, there is surely light at the end of the tunnel.  Conspiracy Theories, from here on referred to as CT.

Let's take a look at some past CT's that turned out to be true.  Did you know the CIA had a heart attack gun?  The CT had been circulating, but allegations had been denied.  Then in 1975, the truth came out.  The CIA did indeed have such a weapon.  The gun fired a small dart at the intended victim.  It could go through multiple layers of clothing and left nothing but a small red dot behind.  It felt like a mosquito bite.  The dart disintegrated on impact but not before injecting the drug, that would in turn, cause a fatal heart attack.  The drug dissipated, leaving no trace to be found during an autopsy.  

Another CT was that vaccines caused cancer.  Back in the 1950's and 60's, a virus was found in a monkey.  The virus ended up in a vaccine that was given to 98 million people before it was discovered and eliminated from the vaccine.  The virus was later found in many cancers.  Did the virus cause the cancer?  As far as the information goes, no one can, or will, say for sure.  But, the CDC, Center for Disease Control, admitted that this actually did happen.  Then, mysteriously in 2013, the CDC removed the fact sheet on this subject from there public information.  Something smells of population control on this one, but that is fodder for another day.


Another newer CT is the one about Q or Qanon.  The story behind Q is that Q is either a person or a group of people who work closely with our President.   Q posts cryptic messages on a site called 8Chan.  8Chan is an online message board that allows anyone to post just about anything they want, good or bad.  It's kind of like free speech without the politically correct correctiveness.  Q's message to all patriots is one of a fight between good and evil.  That there is a shadow government, that has been in place for many years and they are involved with child trafficking, drugs, and a plan to keep the masses as dumbed down as possible.  Q tells its followers to stay the plan, for in the end, the good guys are going to win and it will be a great awakening for all the people of Earth.  Q has hundreds of thousands of followers, worldwide.  Sounds crazy, huh?  Well, it gets even weirder.  Recently there was a shooter in a Texas Wal Mart.  This guy has some serious mental issues and they did not just occur during this present White House administration.  His mother had, weeks before the tragic event, contacted police because she was afraid of his behavior and the fact that he had purchased the gun online from China.     He wrote a rambling manifesto that even stated that if the media blamed Trump for his actions, they were lying.  Then he posted the manifesto on 8Chan.

Except he didn't.  He posted it on Instagram, someone else posted it to 8Chan.  8Chan was shut down because of this, stating it was a place to incite hate, violence, racism, etc.  The owner of 8Chan recently testified, behind closed doors.....so much for transparency, to members of our government that the shooter did not post the manifesto on this message board.  And Instagram?  Oh yeah, it's still up and running.  The end results of this one are going to be epic.

So, why do we like these crazy Conspiracy Theories?  Because some times, truth really is stranger than fiction and seriously, you just can't make this stuff up.

A Path In Time

Having recently crossed the point in time that I started my journey around the sun, I have been reflecting over the past decades.  A lot has changed.  To try to list all the technical advances that have taken place would take most of today and maybe part of tomorrow.  To sum it up, I can attest, with great truthfulness, that I was once the remote control for the folks' TV, even if I was in another room minding my own business.

I've watched the automobile go from being a block long, heavy sled to a compact unit that will fit in the most smallest of parking spaces.  The age of muscle cars and hot rods came and went, then suddenly some have been re-born, the Camaro, Challenger and Mustang.  Proving that no matter how much they try to spin the idea of everyone owning and electric vehicle, the human hot rod spirit cannot be crushed.  I envision, one day in the future, an underground society of muscle car militia.  They will need to be careful though, it will be hard to hide with all those loud pipes rattling.  

Hem lines have gone up, down, completely disappeared and back again during my time.  Probably the most favorite of all apparel, for me anyway, was the bell bottom blue jeans.  I was fortunate enough to live through the era of the bell starting at the knee and being just long enough, and wide enough to cover, but not completely hide, a pair of platform sole shoes.  Just the other day I saw a picture of a tiny little girl in bell bottom jeans. I said to myself, oh, be still my heart.

I remember when my best friend's phone number was 8 and I had to tell an operator that number in order to talk to her.  Those talks started out at a small little table with an attached seat.  Back then, the phone cords were only a few inches long, just long enough to get the receiver to the ear.  Then, someone, with a stroke of genius, made the cord longer.  Long enough that one could lay on the floor, go nearly from one room to the other and depending on the original placement of the phone, it could be possible to grab a snack out of the refrigerator.  Next, the cordless phone hit the market place and even though they were big, bulky and had an antennae, it sure was cool to sit outside and yap.  Now, I can stand on one side of the country, type in a message, hit send and reach a friend in another country, in less than five seconds. 

All in all, it has been a pretty interesting ride so far.  There have been times of bounty and times of deep despair.  But, no matter ones' placement in time or society, I believe all people experience these things.  I'm hoping there are many more adventures waiting in the isles of my future, but there is one thing I have discovered on my path.  I tried to impart this particular piece of wisdom to my oldest grandson, during a heart to heart conversation, which, again in all truthfulness, was me talking and him listening.  He nodded, but I knew he did not fully understand, but some day he will, after all, he's only 17.  Just the other day, I shared it with a young woman who had just turned 40.  Her eyes lit up and I could tell she was just beginning to stumble upon the truth.  What I shared is this, no matter how old a person gets, the way they "feel" when they are about 18 years of age, will be the way they "feel" for the rest of their life.  Yes, we will change our minds, beliefs, likes and dislikes over the years but, what makes us, "US", will never change.  We are a soul, taking a ride in a body.  A body that will sometimes let us down and will eventually run out of battery life,  but the soul is the spark.  The spark, that started eons ago and has been waiting to experience this thing we call life on Earth.  Enjoy your path, and when necessary, just avoid mirrors.

From The Desk of The Dog

My Last Summer Vacation

Hello everyone!  It's Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, JRT for short!  Mom and Dad have drug me all over God's green earth this summer!  They seem to forget that I do not really like to ride in the car!  But, this last trip, I tricked them and learned something new!  Bear with me.  Mom says wrong bear, what does she know, she's afraid of bears!

Anyway, I have been in the car for over 4000 miles this summer.  I don't know why we had to go so much.  The last trip, though, I figured out a new plan.  We left really early in the morning.  I sure wasn't done sleepin' when Mom woke me up and told me we were going to go see my Mama......again!  It was dark when we left and they put me in my crate and strapped me down in the back seat.  See, they thought that if I could not see where I was going, I would ride better that way.......NOT!  We didn't get too far down the road and I let them know I needed to get out.

I did this as many times as possible and it worked each time.  Then we stopped to see some peeps we had not seen in a long time.  They live in Kentucky, whatever and wherever that is.  I don't forget anybody I get to smell.  As soon as I got a whiff of them, I was happy to see them too.  

Mom says we visited with those people for almost an hour.  I don't know what that is either.  That is probably the funniest thing about my human peeps, they are always talkin' 'bout time.  Too bad they don't know that the only time there really is, is right now.  Anywho, we had no more got back out on the road and I let them know I needed to get out again.  Mom finally figured it out.

I didn't need to go potty again.  Good grief, I had pottied 20 times already, with no drink!  Sometimes Mom and Dad are just slow learners.  Mom reached in the back seat and wallerd , Mom says that's wrong too, wish I had an eye roll emoji.  She wallerd around and got my crate undone and let me out.  BINGO!

I spent the rest of the trip to see my Mama and the entire trip back home in Mom's lap!  There was a time or two that I got really scared though.  Usually when Dad had to make smoke.  He always opens the window and lets the loud air rush in and the loud sounds from the road rush in too.  He finally just made smoke when we went through the slow spaces.  Mom says they were construction zones....whatever.  Dad just needs to quit makin' smoke.  I did kinda pay him back, it took him a whole day to get all my dog hair out of the car.  Wish I had a smiley emoji.

At least I didn't get sick this time.....but Mom did.  She laid on the bathroom floor for a really long time and I tried to help.  I licked her eyes, ears and face but she said it didn't help.  So, I just sat on the bed and watched her barf.  Mom says I'm done now.  Woof!

Summer Camp

Google, an American multinational company that specializes in internet services and products, recently held their Summer Camp.  This is not the kind of summer camp most of us can recall.  Those hot summer days filled with poison ivy, mosquitoes, campfires, s'mores and bunk houses with no air conditioning.  Singing Kum Ba Yah, swimming in a lake or learning how to pitch a tent.

No, this Summer Camp is supposed to be quite secretive.  Only the creme de la creme, the very best, the super elite are invited to attend.  It was held in Riber, Sicily, Italy at the beautiful Verdura Resort.  This place boasts two golf courses, spas and rooms that start at $903 a night.  

Google invites the very rich and powerful to attend so they can talk about how to make the world a better place.  They discuss things like human rights, education and other global issues.  This year though, they focused mainly on climate change.  Some of the attendees were the former president of the USA, Barack Obama,  Leonardo DiCaprio.....actor, Katy Perry.....singer (recently accused of sexual abuse by two people), Tom Cruise.....good actor....weird person, Prince Harry....has he ever worked?,  Mark Zuckerberg, Bradley Cooper, fashion designers and many other millionaires and billionaires, which may be the reason many journalists refer to it as "The Billionaires Club".

The 'campers' arrived in 114 private jets, guess no one thought to jet-pool to reduce the carbon footprint, and over a billion dollars worth of diesel burning luxury yachts.  When not discussing the grueling emergency of the state of the climate, they were seen scurrying around in Maseratis and gas slurping ATVs.  The campers did have to pay their own way to get to the resort, but after that, Google picked up the tab.  To the tune of somewhere around 20 million dollars.  

Does anyone else see the hypocrisy in this situation?  Were there any of the Inuit Elders invited to the camp?  The ones who talked to NASA about how the stars have changed position because the Earth has tilted, something it has done for eons.  Were there any conversations about the thousands of everyday people who have reported the sun rise is in a totally different area of the horizon?  Yes, the sun rise does move throughout the year, but the changes that are being reported around the globe are not the subtle changes that occur in the yearly trip around the sun. 

This seems like an experiment in totalitarianism, where only a few make the rules and those rules are not to be questioned.  It also seems like a blatant flaunt of wealth over the rest of the populace.  Perhaps a closer look needs to be taken at Google itself.  After all, should we trust and American company who helped a communist country develop a program to censor and spy on their own people?

From Sea to Shining Sea

Having never seen the Pacific Ocean, it was definitely one of the items on the bucket list.  I flew into Phoenix, Arizona and then traveled by automobile to the west coast.  The scenery in the southern part of the South West is mesmerizing.  The desert, in all its vastness, is an amazing thing to see.  Palm trees in the distance are a signal that humans occupy a spot in the otherwise arid landscape.  Outcroppings of jagged rocky mountains break up the monotony of the flatness of this place.  The heat is searing.  One small town has the sea level marked on their water tower.  We were well below it, leaving one to wonder if, at sometime, eons ago, this too was once an ocean floor.  

One thing about traveling from east to west is how very quickly the scenery can change.  It is almost as fast as walking from one room in a house to another.  This very thing happened as we approached the California border.  Suddenly, the flat desert turned into sand.  We were driving through the Imperial Sand Dunes.  Never had I seen so much sand in my life.  It looked exactly like something out of a movie seen and I thought surely, a camel would appear over the top of one of the dunes at any moment.  The dunes are created by the wind and the sand is said to be from an ancient lake.  All this sand stretches for nearly forty miles in a south east to north west direction, but is only about 5 miles across at its widest points.  I was left in awe to have been able to witness such a massive force of nature.

Then, the terrain began to rise.  We climbed higher and higher through mountains strewn with megalithic boulders.  Hundreds of thousands of huge stones that looked as though they had been dropped there, for some good reason and then forgotten.  The energy of this place was magnificent and could be felt even as we drove with a throng of other drivers all in a hurry to reach their destination. 

As the altitude changed, so did the temperature and the 115 degrees of the desert was replaced with mid 70's and a cool breeze.  As we drove closer to the coast, the scenery changed again, the landscape dropped off on our left, to reveal the blue water of the Pacific Ocean.  

I had been warned that the Pacific was much harsher than the Atlantic.  Its water was shockingly cold and the waves were indeed strong and fast.  They not only washed up shards of shells that had been tossed to and fro for a millennia, but rocks as well.  Not just small rocks, rocks as big as soft balls, polished smooth by the constant motion of water and sand.  One of those rocks, looking like a spotted walrus, sits silently on my desk, ever listening, but gives no advice, nor tells no tales of its hidden, but surely, exciting past.

Fast forward five weeks and I find myself standing quietly, looking at the Atlantic Ocean.  I whisper to her, "Hello, my old friend." She answers me by tossing her foam capped grey green waves my direction, gently touching the tips of my toes.  Her water is inviting and warm.  I stare out across her hidden depths, I gaze down the shoreline to a point far in the distance.  I wonder, again in awe, the stories the earth could tell.  Maybe it is telling me now.  Telling me how blessed I am to go from sea to shining sea.

The Realization

Steam rose from the cup of coffee sitting on the desk.  The swirls of hot mist wafting gently on invisible air currents until they themselves disappeared into untraceable nothingness.  She stared into the cup.  The tiny bubbles around the edge, where coffee meets cup, would occasionally pop, sending an ever so small ripple across the surface.  Her fixation on the steamy liquid had passed the surface and was somewhere beneath, looking, looking for something.  It was as if she were scrying, waiting for the answer to mystically appear to her in some form of vision.

A thump on the window brought her attention back to the present.  Another bird had misjudged the distance between the feeder and the glass.  Luckily, the bird did not break its neck and would live to see another day in paradise.  She watched them, the birds, as they fluttered around the feeder and once again her mind began to drift.  It was drifting back to her original torment.

She sat back in her chair and sighed.  What was she doing?  Why did she find herself like this, yet again?  What was is that seemed she must relive the scenario over and over again?  

She knew the truth, the reason.  But, was she willing to face it?  She was not sure, but there was no one to blame but herself.  It seemed she had spent the greater part of her life waiting.  Waiting for some thing, or some one to bail her out.  To save her.  To make things all better.  Yes, she was a hopeless romantic, but this was not about love.  Love was the one thing she had plenty of.  So, what was her problem?  

She found herself, again, in a place, a situation, she did not care for.  She wanted out of it and she wanted out fast.  But, as she looked around the room, taking in all the accumulated stuff of dreams and nightmares, the truth raised its head, like a viper, and struck deep within her heart.  There was no knight in shining armor waiting to ride in and save the day.  There was no genie to hand her three wishes on a silver platter.  No. There was no one.  Only herself.

Pouring the coffee into the sink, watching the dark brown drink flow into the drain, she realized that was what she needed to do.  She needed to let the past go, let it go down the drain, never to be seen again.  She could not stand and peer into that abyss, wanting it to come back so she could make changes to it.  What was done, was done, the option of returning to it was moot.

It was time to make a new plan.  She had one tucked into the folds of her memory.  Now was the time to take a step towards it.  She donned her jacket, walked out the door and felt the cool crisp air, that held the hint of yet another approaching autumn, caress her face.  It welcomed her, like an old friend and softly whispered into her ear, "You can do this."  

From The Desk of the Dog

Hello!  It's Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, JRT for short.  I told Mom it was my turn because I had a lot of stuff to get off my chest.

First, I want to tell you something about my Mama that I forgot to mention the last time.  She is so brave!  When I was at her house, the neighbors stopped by to visit with the other humans and they had a dog with them!  She was a pretty dog named Abbie and she was big!  Way bigger than me and Mama.......Mom says Mama and me....whatever, I'm tellin' the story!  Anyway, my Mama does not like any other girl dogs on her turf.  The next thing I knew, Mama took off and poor Abbie had hardly put her feet on the ground and Mama was on her!  I'd never seen anything like that before and I didn't know what to do!  There was all kinds of barking, snarlin', yelpin' even the humans were whooping.  Well, that Abbie had enough of that and she decided to defend herself and she bit my Mama!  I can't say that I blame her, I've seen Mama in a bad mood before.  When that happened, Mama's Dad scooped her up and she wailed all the way to the house!  Boy was that exciting!  Fun times with the fam.  I was disappointed though by not getting to meet Abbie up close.

But, I've had a rough few weeks this summer.  First Dad left.  He went somewhere to work and Mom and I stayed home.  I don't like that.  I didn't eat for three days and I slept on Dad's pillow just about every night he was gone.  Then, the very worst happened....Mom left too!  I knew something was up because there was this box thing in the front room that Mom always puts stuff in when she is going to be gone.  I had to stay with some people that I barely knew, even though I do like them a whole bunch, but I didn't know what was going on.  I only had to stay with them for one sleep and then Dad came home!  I was so happy to see him when he came to pick me up, but when we got back home, Mom was still gone.  She was gone for a really long time and I looked and looked for her.

Then one day, Dad left for just a little while and when he came back, he had Mom with him!  I was so happy to see her!  She even let me get in that box thing and I found a present she brought me!  Mom and Dad just don't seem to understand how upsetting it is for my routine to be upended.  But, I've been showing Mom what I thought about it.  I slept on Dad's side of the bed for several sleeps after she came home.....I showed her.  

But, I'm over it now and I'm back on Mom's side of the bed.  I always try to make sure she's got enough room to not fall off the side, but rarely does she have enough blankey to cover up with. Mom says it's about six inches of bed, but I don't know what that means and if there are six of them, I better try to catch em'! 
Until my next adventure, Woof!

A Glimmer

I was sitting at a stop light for a very busy intersection.  The young man, in the truck next to me, was busy texting on his phone.  He looked up briefly, every few seconds to see if the light had changed.  I wanted to tell him that unless the person behind him was on his phone too, he would not have to wonder if the light changed.  People here honk if the car ahead of them has not moved within a millisecond of the light changing.  Then, I wanted to tell him to get off the phone and pay attention.  I thought better of it and turned my attention back to the traffic whizzing by at break neck speeds.  Many of them were either talking on their phone or looking down into their lap.  

My mind began to go into the old broken record mode, the one with a skip, about what is happening to our youth with the onslaught of cell phone use, but then something else popped in.  

I was taken back, just a few days, to time spent on the west coast of the country.  The two oldest grandsons were there too.  The youngest of this duo was rather distraught because his phone was on the blink and he did not have a basketball to replace it with.  Luck was on his side when he discovered a volleyball in the garage.  Shortly there after, it was named Wilson and it never left his side.  Although this place did not offer a basketball hoop, the house next door did.  A day later, the tenants there, vacation over, had moved on.  Grandson #2 was behind this house in an instant, happily shooting hoops.  This lasted for a couple of days, then, the next group of vacationers arrived.  Within this new arrival where two young girls.  Their ages were close to the boys'.

Once this was discovered, on our side of the fence, things began to get interesting.  If only for a brief moment in time.  There seemed to be some obstacle on how to meet these two new comers.  I suggested just walking over and saying "hi".  That was met with a look the was akin to what they might have looked like if I had told them their house was on fire.  

The grand solution came and Wilson went flying over the fence with a post-it note stuck on his roundness.  The message, although not an original quote, was a phone number and the words "I'm awesome".  A short time later, a small paper airplane, made from a sheet of a note sized legal paper, came sailing back across the fence.  It contained two social media addresses and a smear of what may have been hot pink lipstick.  Not long after this grand fishing expedition, both parties lost interest, mainly because the girls were from Sweden and the language barrier wasn't worth the effort.

The light turned green and I made my way across the intersection in the left turn lane.  The young man in the truck went straight and I hoped he made it to where ever he was going.  When I arrived home, I walked to my desk and looked at that small paper airplane. It reminded me of the glimmer of hope that I had been a witness to.  A glimmer of hope that the human race will continue on.

R.O.I.

R.O.I.  Return On Investment.  What does it mean?  In the stock market world, it is meant to show whoever wants to buy certain stocks what kind of money they might expect to earn from their investment.  There is a lot more to it, but in layman's terms, that is the desired outcome, especially when compared to the initial cost.

Can R.O.I. be applied to other aspects?  How about a project?  Let's say a person has been working on a particular project for a long time.  Maybe they are building a boat in their basement.  After a while, when they realize that there is no way the boat will ever see water, they come to the conclusion that all their time and effort was for naught.  This is not to say there was absolutely nothing gained during the process.  Surely their woodworking skills were honed to a fine edge over the time spent.  But, their dream of sailing the seven seas, or the local lake, along with the cost of materials spent showed a R.O.I. of zero.

Should relationships have an R.O.I.?  It seems they should. What kind of situation could have a Return On Investment?  If a person who works for a company, always shows up on time, does a stellar job at whatever is given them but never gets a raise or praise, that could be called a very low R.O.I.  The person was at least getting paid an agreed upon wage, so the return cannot be zero, but it's close if the original plan was to climb the ladder to a higher paying position.  What about other human relationships, family, friends, spouses?  Should those too, have an R.O.I.?  If these situations are a never ending give and take, then yes, the R.O.I. is high, because that is a sign of a healthy relationship.  But, if it is one sided, with only one half of the partnership doing all the work, making sure the other is always taken care of, no matter what, then again, the R.O.I. is very low.

Best selling author and public speaker, Ron Ball, made a statement that was seared into my brain matter.  "God uses troubles to fashion us for better things."  So, it is not to say that a low to zero R.O.I is the bottom of the barrel, a failure.  No, it was, or is, a learning experience.  What one does with that wisdom is entirely up to them.  If they want or need a higher R.O.I., it may be time to walk away from that particular project.  

A Very Inconvenient Truth

This is not pretty.  Most turn and look the other way.  It makes the skin crawl.  It sets an image that is never forgotten.  It's a recipe for evil.  The ingredients?  Power, greed, lust and sex.  The results, human trafficking....child trafficking.  

Recently a trial was held for a man named Keith Raniere.  If you followed the trial, you know what it was about.  If not, this will be an attempt to describe his crime in a nut shell.  K.R. built a company called NXIVM, (nex e um).  It was a multilevel marketing company offering professional and personal development seminars.  It also had something referred to as a secret society for women.  In this society, women were branded with K.R.'s initials, used for his personal gratification as sex slaves and were required to recruit new members for the same purpose.  During the trial, evidence was shown that K.R. not only abused and used women for his twisted ideas, but he also had a portfolio of child pornography.  It is believed that he was a major player in the world of child sex trafficking.

There is a documentary, that can be found on Amazon, titled Operation Toussaint.  It covers the underground world of child trafficking.  In this documentary I learned a very inconvenient truth.  The United States of America holds the first place trophy, world wide, for child sex trafficking.  Children, as young as 6 months, are being sold to people for sex. What makes a person interested in this is beyond comprehension, but pedophilia is a sickness that seems to be running the gauntlet like an ancient plague. 

Most of us think  these people are sick.  That they are the creepy old man who cannot seem to keep his hands to himself.  The weird, who obviously have a limited mental capacity.  Although there are many who fall into those categories, the inconvenient truth is that there are many who do not fit into that mold at all.  They are the super rich, the powerful, the elite and together they make a monster much worse than the legendary Kraken.  Their tentacles run deep, into places we would have trouble believing.....into churches, into businesses, into governments.

There is something happening in the world today.  Hopefully, it is the battle between good and evil.  Take note and pay attention.  Try to connect the dots.  Keep the children in your thoughts and prayers.  K.R. was convicted and found guilty on seven charges, he is to be sentenced in September.  Many of the people who were in this web of wickedness with him have already been spilling the beans.  It will be interesting to see if K.R. begins to sing like a canary.  If and when he does, there are going to be many well known people who shall certainly fall from grace.  The fall will be hard to take, when we realize how we have been deceived.  Hold tight to the truth, even though it may be very inconvenient.

 

 

My Confession

It seems I committed the ultimate sin in the world of being a writer.  My last blog, "A Fable", was not my own original content.  I stewed about this most of the day, after writing the story.  Had I really committed plagiarism?  I asked a trusted confidant, explained the situation and waited for a reply.  They agreed with my own feelings, yes, I had copied someone else's work.

The story came from a set of cards that I use.  I could easily tell my reading audience that they are scripture cards, something one looks at daily for inspiration, but that too, would not be the truth.  These cards are considered to be oracle cards....something that comes from the unknown, an outside source.

The cards are called "Chakra Wisdom Oracle Cards".  The story behind them is as follows, taken from the back cover of the book that accompanies the cards: "Tori Hartman is a world-renowned intuitive and spiritual teacher.  Her motto, "Enlightenment Made Simple", refers to her desire to give people the support they need in order to do spiritual work on their own.  Born and raised in the free-thinking atmosphere of New York's Greenwich Village in the 1060s, Tori has been aware of her psychic abilities since the age of eight.  a series of encounters with angels that began 25 years ago, after a near-death experience, revealed the profound fables that were to form the basis of the Chakra Wisdom Oracle....."

In reality, the story, that I titled "A Fable", without even reading what was on the back cover of the book that came with the cards, referring to the stories as fables, was true, but not from me.

I could easily tell why I used the story, even though I did change some of the narrative, but that would just be an excuse to make folks think better of me.  

I can assure you that  the words I print from now on will be my own.  They may not be pretty and you may not agree with their content, but the source of them will be from deep within myself and my own research, which will be duly noted.     

So, to my readers, my deepest apologies and thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading tRuth As I See It.  

A Fable

Once upon a time, there was a person who was very despondent, depressed.  The person, Jo, was miserable.  Jo had no desire to do anything.  The more Jo thought about how terrible their life was, the worse Jo felt.  In utter frustration, Jo called out to who or whatever was listening and pleaded for help, or just a way out.

The suggestion Jo received was to get themselves cleaned up and then to do the same with the house.  Jo thought about that for awhile and decided that it could not hurt to try.  Jo took a long hot shower and picked out a favorite outfit to wear.  The house did look a mess, so Jo spent the entire day cleaning.  Jo put items back where they belonged, ran the sweeper and even dusted.  By the end of the day, Jo was mildly surprised to discover that they did feel a bit better.  

Awakening the next day, looking at the clean house, the depression returned.  Then something strange happened.  A violent storm swept into the area.  Tree limbs were snapping and the wind made the rain fall in a sideways direction.  Jo looked out the window to see a large tree fall on the neighbors' house.  Without thinking or hesitation, Jo ran out the front door, bounded off the front porch and ran to the neighbors' home.  The family who lived there were in a state of panic. Jo grabbed the two small children and called for the rest of the family to follow.  They made their way to Jo's house and Jo led the way to the basement, where they all took shelter, waiting for the storm to pass.

Jo had never felt so exuberant.  Jo felt more alive than they had in months, maybe even years.  Jo had just realized an important idea, that action requires reaction.  Jo looked back on the last couple of years and understood that sitting around doing nothing got the exact same results, nothing.  

From that point on, Jo turned their life around.  Jo took a daily walk.  Jo learned how to meditate.  Jo joined a local gym.  Jo found a group that liked to get together and discuss a topic that was one of Jo's favorites.  In short, Jo's action created reaction and created a life that Jo did not think was possible.

The moral of the story?  Get off the couch.  Move!  Do something each day, just for yourself.  Create your very own reaction.  Create a brand new you.

From The Desk of The Dog

Hi everyone!  It's me, Runtly!  The ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier!  JRT for short.  I'm so excited to share my tails of my recent road trip!  I got to see my Mama!  Mom says I used the wrong tail.....what does she know....she doesn't even have one.

I don't know if I have told you this before, but I really do not like riding in the car.  Only if it is up the street to the gas station, but anything more than that is terrifying.  

The first leg of the trip was just awful.  Mom gave me some stuff to make me sleepy, but it didn't work.  Mom and Dad finally stopped somewhere and Mom bought some more stuff to see if it would help.  It sorta helped, but not for very long.  Finally, at the end of a very long day, we stopped moving in the car.  There was a storm coming, so we stopped at the first available place.  It was a weird place but Mom says I have to leave that part out of the story. 

Anyway, I was sure glad to get out of the car and stretch my legs.  Mom and Dad try to get me to drink some water when they stop on the road.  I be too nervous to do anything but try and keep track of them.  One of them disappears into a building and I can't go with them and pretty soon they come out of the building and then the other one  disappears into the building!  It's so scary and confusing!  So, drinking is the least of my worries.   But, when we were stopped for the night, I was really hungry and thirsty.  I ate a whole bowl of food and drank a whole bunch of water and ate a whole bunch of green grass.

Later, after we had gone to bed, Mom got up and made her way to the bathroom.  Mom musta been in stealth mode and musta been wearing night vision glasses 'cause when she opened up the door to come out of the bathroom, she was greeted by the sight of what she called the "Mother of all land mine fields".  I had barfed.  Not just once.  Not just twice.  Let's just say that I distributed it all over the floor between the end of the bed and the door to the bathroom and Mom missed every pile!  Mom is so cool!  I think she was pretty happy about not stepping in it, but I stayed under my blankie, just in case.

I got to see my Momma!  Her name is Josie.  I learned how to play outdoor fetch.  It was so much fun running in wide open spaces and it made me weally tired.  I even got to stay all night at Momma's house!  Momma sleeps in her kennel, but I got to sleep with my peeps! One peep got tired of me hogging the bed so he opened the door to his brother's room and I finished off the night with that peep.  It was awesome!  One of Mom's pups says I'm spoiled and need a swat every once in awhile.  Mom told her I do not like swats.  Her pup told her that neither did she or her sister but that didn't seem to stop her from doing it.  Mom thought that was pretty funny.

Mom says I never forget stuff.  Stuff like people, places, other animals.  Remember that goose I told you about that pecked me and made me yelp?  Mom took me outside the other evening so I could pick up my collar-ball that I had strategically dropped off the deck.  She packed me outside without my leash.  When she put me on the ground so I could get my collar-ball, I spied that stupid goose and about 30 of his relatives over by the pond bank.  I took off like zero to 60 in less that 3 seconds!  I ran straight into that goose parade and it was on!  Mom said it looked like synchronized diving at the Olympics as one by one, those stupid geese made a break for the water.  Then, I turned around and ran back through what was left of the herd!  Mom says it's a flock, but who cares.  As I was makin' my last pass, I tripped and mowed right over the top of one of that stupid goose's kids and sent him rolling!  Mom said it was really scrambling to get back on its feet!  Yeah, I bet he was saying "feets don't fail me now!"  Boy oh boy, that was a lot of fun!   

Mom says I've gotten sidetracked from the original story.  Mom is just persnickety.  Anyway, I had a great time, but I sure be glad to be home.  Woof!

From The Desk of the Dog

It's Runtly!  The ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, JRT for short!

Mom is trying to drive me crazy.  She got rid of my safe space.  It was under the couch.  Now the couch is gone and she replaced it with one I can't get under.  Mom is mean.  I loved my safe space.  I could lay on my side, behind the couch, and slither myself underneath.  Then, there was enough room for me to stand up and make my space more comfortable.  I did that by digging a hole in the carpet.  All those pieces of carpet and pad made the place more like home, nice and fluffy.  I don't know why Mom didn't like it, she couldn't see it.  Anyway, I spent several days with nowhere to be safe.  I tried the corner under the table, that didn't work.  I laid on Mom and Dad's bed, but it's just too spacey.  

Then, Mom brought out the crate!  She even had the audacity to lock me in there!  I think there is something wrong with Mom!  She put a blanket over the crate, thinking that would make it better and she put a nice woolly pad in there too.  I do like the pad because I can dig to China on it and nobody cares, but I wasn't goin' in that crate.  Finally Mom had an idea.  She got something she called a tool and as I sat and watched her, she took the door off the crate!  She threw it out into the middle of the room and I showed it who was the boss.  I barked at it and jumped at it, but I didn't touch it!!

Mom put a couple of treats in the crate and I did go in and get them.  While I was in there, I looked around and decided maybe it wasn't so bad after all....especially since the door was gone.  I like my new safe space now and am just about caught up on all the naps I missed out on when I didn't have a safe space.

Squirrel has brought part of his family to my deck.  I show them who is the boss too!  They think they are so smart, but I've always got my eye on them.  The other day, the little one jumped on  my head, when I was out back, and I catched him!  Dad was laughing and Mom was sayin' no, sometimes Mom isn't much fun, and I dropped little squirrel and catched him again!  I finally let him go but I spent about a minute smacking my lips.  I told Mom, "tastes like chicken!" and she just rolled her eyes.

I got attacked by a goose last week.  Stupid goose.  All I was tryin' to do was get to my door.  I guess I got too close to the baby geese and man o man, did the feathers start flyin'!  That goose pecked me so hard it made me yip!  I would have showed him a thing or two, but, once again, Mom didn't think that was a very good idea and we had to turn around and go the other way.  I figure I'll have another chance soon.

I'm getting ready to take a road trip and go see my Mama.  We talked on the phone the other night.  Every time she hears me, she howls and so do I!  I think she does that because she misses me, but it's kinda odd, when I get there she always shows me who is the boss!  Tough love I guess.  Woof!

The Letter

The air was heavy, filled with the moisture of an approaching storm, tracking in from the north.  It was odd though, nothing was showing on the radar.  He picked up the envelope, that was laying on the kitchen table, folded it in half and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans.  As he went out the back door, he flipped the light switch off, grabbed the truck keys and headed down the steps.

The old white 1971 Chevy pickup was waiting for him as it had been doing for more than 40 years.  Like he had done for nearly that many years, he patted the dash and said the words, "Good morning sweetheart.", as he slid into the drivers' seat.  And, like the gentle beast she was, her engine roared to life with the turn of the key.  He dropped the gear shift into drive and started down the lane.  When he got to the main road, he made a right, away from town.  There was only one place he needed to be right now.  It had been a long time since he had been there.  

The wind picked up just as he turned into the tree covered lane.  The hedge trees made a canopy over the road that looked like a tunnel of green.  Suddenly their leaves were flying through the air, like kites without tails, twirling, spiraling out of control, being only at the mercy of the wind that carried them.  Then he heard the first ping.  Another and another.  It was hail.  He turned the wipers on high as a torrent of rain and small pellets of ice burst through the the canopy overhead.  

He shook his head, where had this storm come from?  As he emerged from the end of the tunnel of green, as if on cue, the rain stopped.  In another half mile, the sun was peeking out from the edge of the darkness, as the freak storm and its sinister black cloud continued to move to the south.  He drove the truck through an opening in the fence that led to an old abandoned house.  The old house sat high on a bluff and although it had been many years since the yard surrounding it had been cared for, there were still traces of a long forgotten path that led to a spot behind the house.  It was there that he parked the truck.  He looked out over the river valley below.  Plowed fields, some with a newly planted crop made a checkerboard pattern across the river bottom.  The bluff, on the other side of the river, welcomed him like a long lost friend.  A friend who had been waiting patiently, ready to pick up where they had last left off.

He sat for several minutes, soaking up the view.  It always gave him a sense of great comfort, knowing that in the grand scheme of things, this one scenic view made him feel safe and protected.  A trickle of water slid down the windshield and for a brief moment, as it passed through a sliver of sunshine, a small rainbow ran across the back of his hand, still resting on the steering wheel.

He turned the key off and the truck fell silent.  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the envelope.  He turned it over in his hands, wondering.  He wondered where it had come from.  It had been in the mailbox that morning.  Nothing else had been in there and there was no postage or address or return address on it.  Only the words, "this is for you", scrawled across the front in a cursive handwriting that looked like it might have been written by a young child.  He unfolded the envelope and turned it over one more time, then reached into his front jean pocket and retrieved a small pocket knife.  He never went anywhere without that knife.  He slipped the blade into the top edge of the envelope and cut through it.  He took a deep breath and as he reached inside the opening, he let the air rush out of his lungs with a loud sigh.  

It was a single piece of paper, folded in thirds.  When he opened it, the same simple handwriting, that was on the envelope, greeted him.  It read, "You are the most wonderful person I know.  I love you so much.  You are so smart!  You are so creative!  I marvel at all the things you have accomplished.  Others do too!  You have no idea how many people hold you in such high esteem.  You brighten a room when you enter.  Your smile lifts the burden of a heavy heart.  Your eyes twinkle with such delight, that others long for you to cast your glance their way.  Maybe it hasn't always been cupcakes with sprinkles, but those are the times that have made you who you are today.  Troubles have a way of knocking off the rough edges to reveal the true beauty inside.  An old sage once said that a person's life was simply a journey back to where they had come from.  Enjoy the journey, you have not failed, there is always more to come, more to do.  Look forever forward, I'm always there for you.  Love you much."

A tear rolled down his cheek.  He had no idea who wrote it, but it had come at a time that his heart was nearly at a breaking point.  To know that he was loved by some weird, bad handwriting, whatever or whoever, gave him a glimmer of hope.  His heart could feel the healing beginning.

Gobbledegoop

Gobbledegoop: One of Mother's favorite words.  Its meaning varies due to the ongoing circumstances of a particular event or failed art project.  Gobbledegoop covers a multitude of sins.  A bunch of stuff that has no start nor finish line.

Sitting in line, in the car, waiting our turn to exit the parking lot.  The back passenger window rolls down on the car ahead.  It is a nice looking car, clean, shiny, fairly new.  A small hand can be seen coming out of the open window.  The small hand drops several pieces of trash on the ground just before the car turns left.  The tear rolls down the American Indian's face.  Few understand what that means.  It is not an isolated problem, it's nearly an epidemic.  If each individual could see the planet from space, where it sits in the vast darkness of the universe, would they take better care of it?

Listening to the conversation from a distance.  None of our business, but was hard to ignore.  A young girl, perhaps about 7 or 8 years old.  She is berating her mother.  She talks to her as if her mother where a mere piece of trash.  The young girl tells her mother she is stupid.  The mother never says a word.  She simply listens to the barrage of insulting words, puts her packages in the trunk of her car.  They get into the car, the young girls' mouth is still running and they drive off.  Parenting isn't about being friends with your offspring.  It's about learning that the pain felt when the door slams, right after the words "I hate you!", means you've done something right.  Parenting is a job, not a hobby.  Children are like puppies and kittens, they grow up.

She watched a video about an elephant that had been taken to an elephant sanctuary.  This massive beast had been in a circus.  It had been treated so badly that it was nearly starved to death.  As the elephant cautiously left the confines of the large truck that had transported it, the fear of the unknown could be seen in its eyes.  How tragic that an animal with the brain capacity of a dolphin or a chimpanzee, an animal that can remember places and faces from years past, an animal whose size could crush a human with one foot, had been reduced to near death by a human.  Another tear rolls down the cheek.  

In the same token, we knew the neighbor dog was ill.  The owner is doing all possible to keep her as well as can be expected.  Some days are better than others.  Daisy Duke was outside, trying to do her business.  It wasn't working.  She struggled for several minutes until her owner walked over to her.  He spoke softly and patted her on the head.  It was sad, but the look she gave him pulled at the heart strings.  She loves this man with all of her heart and she knows he will take care of her now and when the time comes.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.  Aretha Franklin can be heard singing in the background.  Respect: esteem for a sense of worth.  What the world needs now is love, sweet love.  Maybe.  Understanding respect might be a good place to start...again....before it's too late.