I am a widow since 2013 and live by myself in a small apartment. I use a wheelchair to get around, but I wouldn't consider myself disabled. I'm 11 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, and a great grandmother to two as of today, 6/7/25! 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! Cheryl
The cofounder of venture capital giant Andreessen Horowitz laid out his thoughts in his newsletter this weekend. BY STEVE MOLLMAN March 05, 2023 12:44 PM EST
“The prices of education, health care, and housing as well as anything provided or controlled by the government are going to the moon, even as those sectors are technologically stagnant,” he notes.
“What’s more, very little is being done to address this problem, he writes: “We are heading into a world where a flat-screen TV that covers your entire wall costs $100, and a four-year college degree costs $1 million, and nobody has anything even resembling a proposal on how to systemically fix this.”
“Over time, he adds, the prices of regulated, non-technological products rise, while the prices of less regulated, technologically powered products fall.”
In the Lounge Soft slippers on my cold feet. Cheese and crackers for a treat. Fiery flames heat my space. Warm cheeks glow on my face. Phone and tv are turned off. A book opened on a blanket doffed.
“I say old boy, can you not imagine an intransitive state of affairs where social circles would drop their apparent halos and remind themselves that to taunt a person simply for having an oddity about their appearance is really bad form?
Did I hear a voice or was it only in my mind? My body quivered at the sight of the deer leaping through the before serene air, my face relaxed, previously numb to any disturbances. The sound of a twig breaking was the start and suddenly as if through a halo of sunlight, the deer stood before me and hesitated. I sighed, and realized the report of killing a beautiful animal would not be on my diary page today. I raised my arms and shouted “run!” and the deer obeyed.
Jane wanted to be queen of the world, no small bridge to cross when you are only stepping into your twelfth year. She often dreamed away while sitting under the big tree on the riverbank, fishing for their dinner. She had tried to use a sharpened stick once but soon realized that meant getting into the river and getting wet and could not justify the scolding her mom would give her to do such a dangerous act. Digging up worms from the dewy early morning ground was not a pleasant task, but the fish seemed to like them. She felt a tug on her pole and it woke her from her dream. She disliked the work of taking the fish off the hook, but it was a daily chore and her mom would be happy with her for it.
“Shout it from the treetops” the group chanted loudly, wanting the crowd to join in their fight. “Censorship will not be tolerated!” There were naysayers trying to worm their way into the group with signs listing books of which they didn’t approve. One wonders if these people had even taken the time to actually read any of the soon to be banned books.
Joe trudged through the white sheet of snow, prepared with his handy bucket to pluck the first sprigs of spring. It was his usual daily visit to the old lady’s garden these days where a prolific amount of tiny green whiskers seemed to pop up everywhere.
In springtime, Joe was always a bluster, accompanied by his evil cat, Morticia, who would happily sprint along with him, seemingly conscious of his dastardly behavior. The old lady was now bed bound and on her good days, wondered why Joe never brought her the usual vase of flowering buds to her bedside. It seems Joe had grown tired of this chore and nipped it in the bud.
It was the third of September; that day I’ll always remember, ‘Cause that was the day that my daddy died. I never got a chance to see him; Never heard nothin’ but bad things about him. Mama I’m depending on you to tell me the truth. Mama just looked at him and said, “Son, Papa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his head was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.” Papa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his head was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.” Hey, Mama, is it true what the say, That Papa never worked a day in his life? And Mama, they talk all around town say that Papa had three outside children and another wife And that ain’t right. Heard them talkin’ about Papa doing some storefront preachin’ Talkin’ about saving your souls and All the time weak, dealin’ in death And stealin’ in the name of the Lord Mama just hung her head and said, Papa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his head was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.” Papa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his head was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.” Hey, Mama, I Heard Papa call himself a jack of all trades. Tell me, is that what sent Papa to an early grave? Folks say Papa would beg; borrow or steal to pay his bills. Hey, Mama, folks say Papa was never much on thinkin’; Spend most of his time chasin’ women and drinkin’! Mama, I’m depending on you to tell me the truth. Mama just hung her head and said, “Son, Papa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his head was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.” Papa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his head was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.” Papa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his head was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.” Papa was a rollin’ stone. Wherever he laid his head was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.”
The Bag Lady 
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