The cowpuncher hated his horse
It refused to stay on the course
It wouldn’t turn cows
So frustrated now,
He cursed it until he was hoarse.
Category: Bladder cancer
Response to the Daily Post Prompt: Underground
I think it was “The Fall of the House of Usher” that made me afraid of being underground. It was quite a frightening movie at the time. I’ll never forget the bloody fingers from scratching her way out of the coffin. Who could blame her? After all, she was buried alive, the coffin chained to keep her there. As a child, I was horrified. From then on, I never wanted to be buried. In a coffin, dirt covered, in a hole, underground.
Patience is a Virtue
“Greatest of human virtues is always patience (Maxima enim est hominum semper patientia virtus)~Cato (?), Disticha, bk i, No. 38 (c. 175 B.C.)
We’ve all heard this, “patience is a virtue”, but apparently the above is the earliest time recorded. Today I was waiting for the bus, in the doctor’s office, when I heard a childlike voice say, “Happy Halloween”. I hadn’t noticed her walking by since I was trying to write a note to a long distance friend. Such a time difference between us, only a few when we can chat. I looked up to see a woman around my age unsteadily walking to the door. I answered her greeting, looked back to my phone, had the sound off, but still trying to contact my friend. The woman said she was waiting for curb-to-curb (the same bus I take), but mine was scheduled for a later time.
She left, and I decided to read blog posts on the phone. Finally I went outside to get some air, and there she was, sitting on a bench reading. I asked what she was reading. From then on, I listened to her story. She had a stroke, and talking was slow and difficult, hard to understand. She went on about the book, “The Grain Brain”, which had highlighted sentences and many paper strip bookmarks.
Paying close attention was required, even though I was anxious to chat with my friend. My phone was vibrating, but she didn’t seem to notice, so I turned it off completely. This extraordinary woman was from Germany, a cat for a roommate, brain lesions, and dyslexic. Yet here she was, acutely aware how difficult it was to find the right words and have them heard correctly. She read some excerpts from the book. I am not usually a patient person. This dear woman entertained me until I left the bus at my complex. I learned so many interesting facts about her. I wonder if we’ll meet again on the bus.
Never made contact with my friend today, but I’m glad I had the patience to meet a new one.
Sunshine Blogger Award Nomination
I am surprised by the nomination from
http://mind-flight.org/author/rohvannyn/, but I thank her and appreciate her very much as an author and blog friend. My inexperience with the WordPress site isn’t diminishing. I’m getting better, but it takes a lot of patience, and I have a minimal supply. The result is writing an e-mail as a draft, then copy and paste into the blog post area. This works except for photos. Placing photos is not difficult, just takes more of that “patient”mentality. Editing them to a perfect size and area on my post requires more than one try and that is why I don’t use many. Too frustrating! So now you are reading my copied e-mail. Maybe I’ll find a picture that works, no promises.
Answers to Rohvannyn’s questions:
- My favorite books to read are true stories, comedy, fantasy, science fiction.
- What most inspires me are my children and grandchildren. Their triumphs, their individual spirits, enthusiasm, talents, how long have we got?
- Why do I write? Hmmm… I just write like I talk. Nothing fancy, just what I think. I have a lot of ideas and opinions, and writing is an outlet for them.
- I started blogging because a trusted friend recommended it. I wanted a place to express the frustrations of having a second bout of cancer, and the results of that. My idea was to help other people who had these cancers and to detail what happens when you get home and how to manage it.
- If I could choose any profession, (don’t laugh) it would be a style consultant to women and men who do not have the body of a model.
- Rules for the Sunshine Blogger Award:
- 1.Thank the person who nominated you in a blog post and link back to their blog.
- 2.Answer the questions sent by the person who nominated you.
- 3.Nominate seven new blogs to receive the award and write them new questions.
- 4.List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo in your post and/or your blog.
I thank Rohvannyn for her faith in me. I love a lot of her blog posts, and so many others, it’s hard to choose, but here are some sites you might enjoy:
Response to the Daily Post Prompt: Waiting
Waiting, tis truly an art
Filling time, after the start.
No wifi you say?
Nothing to play?
You might have to read
Where would that lead?
Your brain is confused
But nothing to lose.
This might sound trite:
You could try to write.
Whatever you choose
A book or the news
Reading’s less grating
Than sitting and waiting.
Response to the Sometimes Stellar Six Word Story: Draft
Marilyn on the grate, thanks, draft!
https://nicolaauckland.com/2016/10/16/sometimes-stellar-storyteller-six-word-story-challenge
Response to the Daily Post Prompt: Trust
Do you trust inanimate objects? I do every day. My most trusted appliance is my iPad. I don’t like to admit this: I love the iPad. I rely on it too much. For instance, doing all the writing, reading, copying and pasting, Google lookups, FB, Twitter, Amazon, Kindle, chats, games – I could go on and on. My laptop is slow, and I don’t have an iPhone. The iPad is my trusted companion. Sounds a bit weird? Oh well, you know what they say about old ladies who live alone? Yup, that’s me.
https://Wordpress .com/2016/10/17/the-daily-prompt-trust/
Rant: Rubberband Women
Anybody else sick of ads that start out:
“When you look in the mirror, do you look worn, droopy, or tired?”
Never mind the fact, “of course I do” rings in my head. I could harm these people! Who designs these ads? A misogynistic group of ad men? Maybe women? Tired of it. That’s why I record, and skip commercials.
On the one hand we’re told we are active, intelligent beings, unafraid to join the men in combat, break through the glass ceiling, all our dreams of accomplishment can be fulfilled. And then we see or hear the latest drivel from a wannabe president, or watch TV. Make up your mind, world! How can we be everything, all the time, and should we want to? We can be the work-at-home mom, but don’t neglect the children. We can work outside the home, but don’t neglect our family responsibilities. We’re rubber band women, pulled and stretched in all directions at once.
And then there’s the media, breaking us down at every turn, to be smarter, thinner, more attractive, and here’s how to do it.
Are we the “newer, shinier, modern model”? Should we be? Make up your mind!
Response to the Daily Post: Candle
The most significant candle in my life was in a paper bag with my husband’s name on it. He died July 17, 2013 of esophagus cancer.
My granddaughter decided to hold a Cancer Relay that year to raise money and bring more awareness to cancer in general. It consists of walking/rolling around a track which is lined with illuminated bags made by the family survivors. It involves 
dinner, games, prizes, and every hour of the day and night a different contest was held. My niece dressed as a Blues Brother for the 80s run around the track. At sundown the candled bags were lit and everyone silently traced the track again. 
Response to the Daily Post: Promises
When they started this “relationship”, they decided, no rules, no promises. Okay, he thought, this should be easy enough. I can just see how it goes, and if it doesn’t work to my advantage, so what.
They began corresponding quite frequently, and he couldn’t believe how he missed her if only a short time went by with no contact. She remained hesitant to write too much. After all, she was married, had children. This was wrong and she knew it.
As time passed, she realized there was a connection that surprised them both. They waited impatiently for every letter. He thought possibly he was in love, but no, they had never physically met; separated by miles of land and ocean, with only anticipation of the next letter to keep them going. His occupation did not allow for traveling, it seemed the letters would have to do. Her conscious was warning her to stop before she fell totally in love with this mysterious man. How could she think of loving someone she had never met? Across the miles, he was thinking the same.
They made the decision to meet, try it out, see if a real connection was possible. She was in the airport parking lot. Her hastily packed bag sitting in her lap. The taxi driver was growing impatient. “Lady, are you going or not?” She remembered their first conversation, no promises. “Take me home”, she said softly.
The Bag Lady 
You must be logged in to post a comment.