The Roll of Tape

     When I get done working on my orders, I have to package them up to get them ready to ship.  My orders, you ask? Well, that will be explained in the blog following this one.

     I use a lot of tape when I'm packing.  I have a certain brand that I like and usually only buy one roll at a time.  Limited space requires limited stuff.

     When starting out with a new roll, it's always easy to see how much tape is left on the roll.  There is a certain thickness on the side of the roll that keeps me in belief that this particular roll just might last forever.  Invariably, I always realize that I may run out before I get everything packaged.

     Most of us have been there.  Like on Christmas Eve when we have waited until the last minute to wrap packages.  The stores are all closed and the roll of tape is about down to the bare nubbins. Then we all do the same thing.....using tiny little pieces of tape in hopes we can make it last until the last flap of wrapping paper has been folded, tucked and secured. 

     As I resorted to cutting some of the pieces lengthwise, the thought occurred to me that the roll of tape was a lot like life.  

     We start out not knowing exactly what to do with the tape and fall victim to the amusement of others as we try to figure out how to get it off one finger, only to find it stuck on another.  Once we get the hang of it, the pieces get a little bigger and we use it to tape our artwork to the wall, or place a piece on the cat's tail.

     Somewhere along the line, we discover the side of the roll.  We think to ourselves, "Say, there's a lot of tape on here!"  We begin to pull off long strips to put all around the edges of our endeavors as if to make them last longer.  Then, before we know it, the edge of the roll has gotten thin.  We have to hold it close to the light, to gauge just how much might be left and find ourselves back at the beginning....tearing off little short pieces of tape.

     The message was so unexpected.  A dear friend had passed away.  I was stunned, she had always been the epitome of health.  It had been some time since we had last spoken.  She popped into my thoughts just a couple of weeks ago, out of the blue and I ignored something that I believe in, to the very core of my soul, so strongly.....she had sent me a message.  I should have called her.

     If we only had an ounce of understanding just how powerful our thoughts are, we could accomplish so many wonderful things, help so many others, change a world that seems to be crumbling apart.  

     The next time someone pops into your head, take the time to stop and pay attention.  Pick up the phone and make the call because they just might be on their last piece of tape.

A Dog's Days of Summer

     Since Mom is buried knee deep in paperwork, she said I could write a story about my summer activities.  Sometimes Mom is not very fair, I would gladly get in the middle of her paper pile, but she said "No."  Hi, I'm Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier.

     Mom and Dad took me to the beach.  I do not like to ride in the big thing that goes fast, but since I do not like to be left behind, I went.  Actually, I did pretty good on this trip and did not have to take any "find a happy place" medicine.

     I did not like the water at the beach.  It chased me.  A couple of times it caught me and I had to run fast to get away.  I don't like to get wet, but I was quick and it only got my feet.  

     The beach is made of lots of tiny grains of stuff called sand.  Sand is my new best friend!  Mom showed me how I could dig in it and I dug a hole nearly to China....wherever that is.  It was much fun!  Plus, I rolled in it.  That was great! I had sand on my head, sand on my eyelashes, sand on my tail, sand on my.....well, it was everywhere!  Mom said the bed had more sand in it than the beach, but I don't think that is true.

     At this new place, there is a lot of stuff going on.  Some nice people came and put down big rugs of grass!  Oh, I do love to lay in the nice green grass.  That is until the geese get on it, then Mom does not let me lay in the grass.  The geese leave lots of nice green poo in the grass.  It is really tasty and I love to put some on my neck, like perfume.  This never makes Mom and Dad very happy. They should really try it, they might just change their minds.

     Although I do have a hankering for goose poo, I do not like the geese.  They hiss.  One day, the peoples in charge looked out and noticed a great big lot that had been planted with grass seed, was full of geese.  They were eating the seeds!  Mom put my training collar on me (it beeps, but sometimes it bites!) and I got to be a goose herder!  It was great fun!  I ran as fast as the wind right through the middle of the flock!  There was geese and feathers going all different directions!  Some of the geese raised their wings way up high trying to look scary, but I wasn't scared.  I chased them and chased them and one even tried to bite me!  I tried to bite him too, but ended up with only a piece of feather.  It was great fun and I chased them all out of the lot.  Since it had rained, the lot was muddy.....then I had to have a bath.  I do not like to get wet.

     I have made lots of canine friends here, but I really like people best.  My bestest friend is T.W., he calls me Jumper.  I always know when T.W. is home and I jump on his door.  He lets me in and I get to run all over his place.  Then he gives me a chip and sends me home.  The last chip was a spicy tortilla one, it was tasty. Sometimes the chips are really big.  I bring them home and walk around with them in my mouth and make a funny whining noise until somebody breaks them into small pieces for me.  T.W. is really tall and when he holds me I can see a long way.

     Mom put some silly thing on the deck for the little birds to eat from.  I do not like for Mom to play with other animals.  When she was trying to hang it, I decided to show her she needed to pay attention to me.  I jumped as high and as hard as I could....higher than the railing.  Mom turn to catch me and I hit so hard I almost broke her finger.  Now she wears some silly thing on her finger and will not let me play with it.  Sometimes Mom is mean.

     It is very hot here, but I like it and lay in the sun every chance I can get.  The End.

     

Breaking Out

     It's been a long time since my fingers have danced upon these keys.  I have no idea why.  I've been somewhere in a deep funk....for weeks.  

     I can probably attribute it to many factors, some true and some false.  I could place the blame outside of myself, or sit and listen to the Voice, that lives in my head, whistle a tuneless tune while it waits for me to come up for air.

     I've let myself slip.......Slip into the quickly moving stream of chaos that floods the mainstream media and social networks.  I feel I'm drowning in the rising tide of division, hate, ignorance and the lack of facts.  I feel helpless.  I feel lost.  

     I picked up a favorite book, Into The Light, by John Lerma MD. The story that I opened to was about a dying man, William, share what the angels let him see before his death.  William had helped to murder hundreds of innocents during the Holocaust.

".........and a message filled his cells with the understanding that God had allowed everything that had happened in order to teach humanity to stand up against evil.  He was told that, because of free will, man was destined to experience darkness and goodness.  God's plan for the independent soul was to learn to evolve away from hatred, fear, arrogance, and pride, and move towards pure love.  The Holocaust was not created by God, but rather by the raw darkness within man and intensified by man.  It is up to man, with the acknowledgment of God, to not fear or try to control these events, but to learn that, with only God within us, we can defeat that darkness.  We cannot do it by ourselves.  William said that is the biggest lesson:  Learn to depend on God and He will use your free will to make the right decisions and save humanity............When a great drama is played out on the earth stage, the whole universe is watching, waiting, and feeling and integrating the lessons. ............It is time to embrace our divinity and change our purpose from survival to co-creating a better world. The choice is ours.  The time is now........."

     Regardless what you're individual beliefs are, this much is true....United we stand.......divided we fall.

Cat Freebies

     It was a lovely evening in North Carolina.  We had been invited out for supper at a local bar and grill.  This establishment sits nestled behind the end of a small strip mall.  The owners have converted part of the parking lot into an outdoor cooking area along with outdoor seating.  It had been a hot and steamy day, but with the sun tucked neatly behind the horizon, the evening air was cool enough to warrant sitting outside.

     There is a lone, black feral cat that has taken up residence at this place.  She has an endless food supply and the cooks and waiters even give her small cans of cat food on occasion.  There is a small wooded area right behind the cooking pit and I imagine that is where she calls home.  She is a sad looking mess, and kind of mangie but, she keeps a wary distance from the diners and patiently waits for a morsel or two to hit the ground.  When that happens, she uses her stealthy cat moves, retrieves the tidbit and slinks off, usually none the wiser to the customer.

     As we sat enjoying the encroaching coolness of night and good conversation, we noticed a young woman getting very close to the cat.  She had set herself in a chair, right next to a small can of cat food.  As the cat made its way to the can and began to eat, she ever so gently reached down to touch it.  The cat must have been pretty hungry because she did not bolt, but hunched down a little closer to the can and continued to eat.  

     We were watching this scene play out and wondered what the girl was up to.  We did not have to wait long.  On about the second attempt to pet the cat, the girl seized it by the scruff of the neck.  She then stood up, with the cat curled into a fetal position dangling from her hand, turned towards us and uttered these three words....."THIS is skill!"

     She then proceeded to go back to her table where she had a pet carrier waiting.  This was not one of those hard plastic carriers, but rather something that resembled a book bag, with open mesh windows for air circulation.

     Most cat owners know, that even the most mild mannered cat in the world can turn into a whirling mass of fur and claws when it comes to putting them in something they do not wish to be put in to.  It soon became obvious that this young lady missed that class when she was learning her cat skills.

     She placed the cat, still hanging in the fetal position, into the bag.  When she released her grip from the cats' neck.....the bag became a writhing, jumping, heaving, living creature of which there are few words left to describe.   The girl frantically tried to zip the top of the bag shut, but she was out maneuvered by this feline who had survived quite well without anyone's assistance. That cat shot out of the bag like a ball out of a cannon. The young lady was lucky the cat did not climb right up the front of her shirt and launch off the top of her head.   That indeed, would have been an encore presentation and had it happened, we would have been rolling on the floor as we were already having a hard time stifling our laughter.

     Some times the best entertainment is free and this was no exception to the rule. 

Sand Box Pay Back

     The year was 1972.  It was summertime and just a couple of months before my 16th birthday.  I had accompanied Mother and her sister and husband on a road trip to Florida.  I had never been to the ocean before and was anxious to see it.  Since I had my learners permit for driving, they let me behind the wheel.  As we rounded one last curve, near St. Augustine, the sand dunes fell away and the Atlantic Ocean was crashing a wave on its sandy shore.  I nearly drove off the side of the road.

     I had never seen anything more fascinating in my life.  We stayed at a small beach side motel and I could not wait to get in the water.  The waves amazed me.  I soon realized if I jumped when the next one rolled in, it would lift me up and set me down again.....in waist deep water.  I did this over and over again, mesmerized by this magnificent body of water.

     I was soon jolted back to reality when I turned around to look at the shore.  It was a long way from where I had started out.  On closer inspection, I noticed a small figure, about an inch or two tall, running wildly down the beach with its arms waving like a windmill in a summer storm.  It was Mother.....and she was frantic. I had no idea why she was so upset, gee-wizz, I was still standing in waist deep water.

     When I got back to her, she was still beside herself.  We made our way back to the motel and I headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up for supper.  There was no tub in the room, only a shower.  We didn't grow up with a shower, so this was a new experience too.  When I finished and pushed the shower curtain back, the entire floor was covered with about two inches of water.  I had no idea the curtain went on the inside....not the outside of the stall.

     Fast forward nearly 45 years.  Same ocean, but a different location and a 14 year old grandson in tow.  He had seen the Gulf of Mexico, but not the ocean and his fascination mirrored mine all those many years ago.  I watched him and our new friend, who had joined us for this short trip, as they hopped up with the incoming waves, set down in waist deep water and then repeat the whole process again and again.  Being wiser, I know what can lie beneath the surface.  Being older, I now knew why Mother was so upset. They were getting smaller and smaller.  I made my way out, within shouting distance, and hollered for them to come back. 

     A hidden trough waited about ten to fifteen feet from the shore.  It was about four foot deep and probably that many feet wide.  Once on the other side, the depth returned to about shin level, but the waves made navigating this ditch a bit tricky.  Rather than try to walk through this, I decided I would just ride the next wave over the top and onto the shore.  This decision gave new meaning to beached whale.  I skimmed over the top of the ditch, but I could not get up.  Every time I tried, another wave would roll in and toss me to and fro.  Laughing at myself did not help either, but I finally got back on my feet and felt like I had been exfoliated from head to toe.  A short time later, our grandson tried the same thing.  I laughed so hard I nearly cried.  Each attempt to get on his feet was met with another wave and he would bob and roll like a cork.

     If you have never been to the ocean, put it on your list of things to do before you check out.  Just remember this one important detail.....the waves that have been pounding stones into sand for millions of years will also put said sand in places you forgot you had.

     As we were thinking about calling it a day, our grandson decided to go in first to get cleaned up.  When he returned, our conversation went something like this..."Ummm, grandma?"  "Yes.", I answered.
"There was sand in my trunks and I got some on the bathroom floor."  I laughed and told him not to worry about it, I would clean it up.

     Our friend made a short trip back to our room.  When she returned she told me it looked like a crime scene in the bathroom.  I went to see what I had to deal with.  Not only was the bathroom floor completely covered with sand and small rocks, there was sand in the toilet, on the toilet and in the bathtub.  The image of Mother using all of our bath towels to mop up my shower faux pas flooded my memory and I'm pretty sure, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Angel of Karma doing a back flip out the bathroom door.

     I could not help but chuckle as I pushed sand across the floor, to the nearest corner, and scooped it into the trash can with a wet wash cloth.  At least I did not have to use all the towels to get the mess cleaned up.  

     The grandson had learned a valuable lesson and the payback was priceless.

The Deep Blue Sea

     There it was, before me, the Atlantic Ocean.  The sight of it took my breath away.  I had seen it before, more than once, but never in this kind of splendor.  My mind raced back in time, twenty five years ago.  A time when I stood on its shore, with my husband and our daughters.  Being a romantic, I looked at my husband and said, "Isn't it great?"  He answered, "Kinda grey isn't it?"  First, he is not a romantic and second, he has seen the Pacific, still something on my bucket list, the Atlantic did not impress him.

     But, this time was different.  This time it was the most beautiful shades of green and blue, as far as the eye could see.  The waves were small, possibly two feet tall, but they were moving quickly.  The water was crystal clear and cold, perhaps the recent large storm had something to do with that.

     We stood on the beach, this time with our oldest grandson and a new friend we have had the pleasure to meet.  We all stood silent as we gazed out over this magnificent sight.  Then, as if by magic, the first dorsal fin broke through the surface.  It was soon followed by another and then another.  Dolphins.  Dolphins in the wild. 

     The sun rises so quickly over the ocean.  It gives one a new perspective not only about how fast we are spinning through space, but how quickly our allotted time is ticking away.

     The waves, on this body of water, have been pounding the shores for eons.  Each grain of sand, once a rock or a shell, have fallen victim to the energy within the waves.  It will continue to do so, long after we are gone.  Long after we have procrastinated our lives away.  It does not care what we do or do not do because the ocean is doing what it is supposed to do....it's moving, it's living, it's vibrating.

     Albert Einstein once said, "Everything is energy and that's all there is to it.  Match the frequency of the reality you want and you cannot help but get that reality.  It can be no other way.  This is not philosophy.  This is physics."

     If you do not believe that, go sit by the deep blue sea.

     

     

What It's Really About

     Another. Mass. Shooting.  The media, government officials and some folks in general, are all up in arms about arms.....guns.  If there were more gun control, these kinds of things would not happen.  Look how many people have been killed by this sort of weapon.  Ban them, ban them all.

     Although I am not a gun owner, I would like to point something out.  Not being a weapons expert, I'm sure that my explanation will make a few experts cringe, but, here goes......A semi automatic assault  weapon is a gun that holds a whole lot of bullets but will only fire those bullets when the trigger is pulled.....one at a time.....one pull of the trigger means one bullet will fire.....to fire another bullet, the trigger has to be pulled again......and again......and again.  On the other hand, an automatic assault weapon is a gun that holds a whole lot of bullets and will fire all those bullets with one pull of the trigger......as long as the trigger is held down, the bullets will continue to fire.  An automatic assault weapon is illegal to purchase in this country, whereas a semi automatic is not.

     tRuth As I See It is simply my opinion.  The question I hear a lot is 'why in the world does anybody want to own (or need) a semi automatic assault weapon?'  My guess would be the same reason people like to drive cool cars, wear outrageous fashions, spend X amount of money on sexy under garments, build huge mahonkin' houses, buy luxurious yachts and the list could go on and on.  People like cool stuff.  People watch movies where the good guys get the bad guys and the good guys are carrying automatic assault weapons and they want one too.  So, they buy the next best thing. It looks bad to the bone and it's legal.

     The issue is not about guns because we could make a list, a mile long, of other things that kill.  Things do not kill people, the people in charge of the things do.

     To me, the real issue in this latest catastrophe is the fact the shooter had been investigated, more than once, for possible terrorists links.  If a there is zero tolerance for alcohol impaired driving, why is there not zero tolerance for being connected, or a suspicion of being connected, to a known terrorist group?   Why not tattoo a capital "T" on their foreheads so the rest of the people can help keep an eye on them.  Would that offend them?  Probably, but pussy footing around trying not to offend anyone certainly is not working. 

     Most people who commit this type of heinous crime had some little quirk, that set them apart from being what the majority would consider 'normal'...... and someone knew it.  That someone either did not care, or was too afraid to say anything, for fear of the backlash lest they offend someone.   When that mindset changes, so will society.

     We need to know the person next door and we need to be okeedokee about speaking up.