What Keeps Us Going?


Caveat: This is a narcissistic post from a narcissistic person (me). Read at your own risk.

My life lately has felt like a bad roller coaster. No highs, just a series of gut clenching drops. It’s as if someone out there is wondering just how low I can fall.
I won’t go into details, those would be boring, but I’ve accepted the idea that many of the lows can be attributed directly to my own behaviors. Sometimes I’m not a very nice person. 

There is a big hole in my character. I’m needy and self-centered, and I crave reassurance. When I’m happy, the whole world could be going down the toilet, and it just wouldn’t matter. When I’m not happy, ain’t nobody gonna be happy. (Forgive the grammar; I was making a point.)

What makes me happiest is having an event or activity I can look forward to–say, going to see my kids who live many miles away, or planning a trip to Guatemala, or to an impending class reunion. But we all know those kinds of things can’t happen on a regular basis. 

So how do I keep going and stay happy, on a day to day basis? This blog is one way. I love the feedback and the “likes” and the clicks. They satisfy my need for attention.

Phone calls with my favorite people are another boost to my attitude. FaceTiming with a grandchild can lift my spirits for days. Oddly enough I seldom initiate those calls for fear they’ll be busy and I’ll be intruding.

My relationship with my mother-in-law, Saint Helen, makes me happy, and news that she might be coming for a visit soon has done wonders for my frame of mind. Yay!

I’m not sure what my original point was in writing this except that I began wondering what keeps others going when they sink, or if they sink, into the pit of self-pity. How do you pull yourself up and ignore the greedy little needs that keep you from being happy and productive? 

I’m curious. 

Peace, people!

Sort of a Review of John Scalzi’s Old Man’s War Series

If you’ve followed my blog for any time you know that I’m a terrible reviewer. I either like something and continue to read/watch it, or I dislike it and close the cover/leave the theatre. I don’t offer my opinion on the bad ones; they’ve already taken enough of my time and energy.

John Scalzi is my new favorite author, and definitely worth my time. His novel, Old Man’s War, was brought to my attention by the good folks at Amazon during my never-ending search for something new to read. It is science fiction as its best–witty, thought-provoking, smart, and a tad irreverent.

John Perry, the main character of the first novel in the six-book series, has left Earth in his late 70’s as a recruit to the Colonial Defense Forces. The CDF’s mission is to “bear arms and to use them against the enemies of the Colonial Union, which might include other human forces.” 

The Colonial Union oversees the settlement of human colonies on other planets. Earth supplies all of the CDF recruits, but its various governments remain separate, intact, and ungoverned by the CU. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship; although, one that becomes increasingly more fragile as the story progresses.

Each book in the series might have one or more than one different perspective. At the beginning of each I’d think, “Crap! I want to hear this from John’s point of view or from Zöe’s perspective!” But within a few pages I’d be completely engrossed in the new tale and its protagonist. 

The best recommendation I can give is that I have suffered from severe book withdrawal since completing the sixth book in the series. How can the world continue when I’m so bereft?

Book two in the series

Peace, people!


I am not a stay at home anything, and when I’m forced to remain at home I begin to feel claustrophobic regardless of the size of my current abode.

Today I am confined to Doright Manor as I wait for various contractors to show up to perform their respective duties. Our covered porch project has been clipping along at a nice pace with little assistance from me until this beautiful fall day. I should be out walking, shopping, dining, etc., and here I sit watching Dr. Oz in hopes that at least someone will show up today to justify my confinement.

There was a knock on my door an hour ago. I’d fallen asleep in front of the television and it took me a couple of minutes to get my bearings and to wipe the drool from my cheek. Expecting the electrician I motioned the man through my front door where he smiled and asked if I’d accepted Jesus as my personal savior. 

I nodded and in turn asked him if he’d accepted electricity as a profession. He shook his head no and I pretty much pushed him out the door. Back to waiting.


Maybe I should look for obvious clues.
Peace, people!

Dream Weaver

Last night I dreamt that I rescued two dogs from an abusive situation. One was a large, light brown mutt who was severely malnourished. The other was a cute little chihuahua who seemed bouncy and healthy.

I took them home and then multiple crises arose: my kids needed help, my job was nuts, there were aliens landing on the front lawn, etc. I forgot about the large dog and found him dead in the backyard. I cried and cried because I knew I was solely responsible for his death.

The little dog was still okay, though. Apparently I’d fed him, and he was still sweet and cute. But having killed the large dog I couldn’t give my heart to the small one. It felt like a huge betrayal, so I gave it away to a family who seemed like they’d cherish it.

I think I know what this dream was trying to tell me. I’m going to change my priorities starting now. 

Thanks for letting me share this. 

Take care, and peace, people.

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