I am nine years a widow and live by myself in a small apartment. I use a wheelchair to get around, but I wouldn't consider myself disabled.
I'm seven years away from having bladder cancer resulting in a urostomy and I'm doing well. This cancer was a result of having radiation in 1995 because of uterine cancer. So have faith in yourself, a cancer diagnosis is not a death sentence. My first try at blogging was an attempt to help other people with my condition.
I am a mother of three married children, and a grandmother to eight gorgeous kids, featuring them often here. I enjoy exploring my feelings and like to try the challenges. I like humor, music, movies, games, and some sports.
I absolutely appreciate your reading and commenting on my blog. I am happy to read all of your blogs and learn more about you. Please comment however you like, ask whatever, and I'll answer honestly.
Thanks for reading!
This week’s Story Starter teaser is: Dan’s new next door neighbors were so loud and noisy that he could neither work nor sleep, so he decided that he needed to take action.
At exactly midnight, Dan began pounding on the neighbor’s door. He was so angry and frustrated by the blatant action of this uncaring neighbor, he was almost frothing at the mouth. It took a while but finally a pajama clad man looking like he just woke up opened the door. Can I help you he offered and Dan just stared at him incredulous that this man had obviously been sleeping. Dan replied, of course you can! Start by stopping that awful noise coming from your house every night! My family hasn’t been able to sleep since you came here! The man turned and shut the door in Dan’s face. Dan pounded again, this time no answer. Dan was puzzled so decided to break down and call the police. When they finally came, all was quiet next door. When they left it started again. Dan figured he had two choices. Get his father’s shotgun out of storage and riddle the neighbor’s home with bullets, or move. They called a moving company the next morning.
Cool is looking into the small mirror over the sink and seeing what could and would be.
Cool starts with medium length hair, greased to a perfect dovetail in the back. After that is checked, a liberal amount of Aqua Velva is splashed everywhere.
Cool is donning a pair of skin tight Levi jeans, rolled up on the cuffs to show a clean white pair of gym socks. The socks then shoved into a pair of penny loafers, shiny black.
Cool is retrieving a semi squashed pack of Camels from behind the toilet and placing them carefully into the rolled up sleeve of a white cotton t-shirt. A folded matchbox packet placed in a pocket and once again check the mirror.
Cool is the expensive black leather jacket saved for after running a paper route for the last three years. It’s now draped over an upholstered chair to keep its shape, then protectively pulled over the t-shirt and checked the zippers.
Cool is the nonchalant stride down the hallway or street, pausing to glance in a shop window.
Coolest of all would be the ultimate dream of walking out of home and sliding onto the back of a Harley-Davidson Hummer or into a Chevrolet Corvette.
Coolness can be shown by these outward ornaments, but true cool is looking into a mirror and knowing deep down you are the best without them.
I just finished reading another book by Steve Hamilton. I admit I found Steve Hamilton through one of my favorite narrators, Ray Porter. The first in a three book series, is “ The Second Life of Nick Mason”. The sequel I’m starting today is the title above, “Exit Strategy”.
Goodreads: “From New York Times-bestselling, two-time Edgar-award-winning author Steve Hamilton comes an unforgettable new hero, a man who will walk out of prison and into a harrowing double life that is anything but free.
Nick Mason has already spent five years inside a maximum security prison when an offer comes that will grant his release twenty years early. He accepts—but the deal comes with a terrible price.”
Joe was a no nonsense type of guy, believing if you want to do something, do it right! There was nothing covert in Joe’s advice, he just wanted things done in a precise manner. Joe was a woodworker and chose the finest he could afford for his monstrous collection of wood, some pieces bought from estate sales. He would take the item home and create something new out of the previously treasured wood. There was not even a slim chance Joe’s creations would be duplicated, because every dovetail, every seam and juncture was exact, created with perfection.
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