Month: January 2017

My Heart Hurts

When our daughter was around four years of age she told me that sometimes it made her heart hurt when she didn’t get to see her great-grandparents. Of course, as her mom I was deeply moved by her expression of love. Her heart HURT.

Our family adopted this saying and we use it when something or some circumstance feels fundamentally wrong. My heart hurt when we moved away from family and friends in our native Texas to begin an adventure in North Dakota. It hurt, broke really, when my mother died, and again when we lost my dad.

All of my experiences with a hurt heart have been deeply personal, and I never use the phrase frivolously. So when I say the impending departure of President Barack Obama hurts my heart maybe you’ll understand how much I’ve admired him, his intelligence, his measured response to every challenge.

And when I tell you that the prospect of a Trump presidency hurts my heart, you’ll know that I don’t use those words carelessly. I believe we have unleashed a powerful force for evil and corruption on this country.

My heart hurts. For all that we’ve been. For all that we were. For all that we might have become.

Snapshot #85

The historic Florida Capitol building provides an ornate buffer for the modern Capitol. I call this, “Something Old, Something New.” 

They’re both open to the public and worth a visit if you ever find yourself in Tallahassee, Florida. 

Drinking Wine and Taking Stock

Drinking Wine and Taking Stock
By Leslie Noyes

It’s late on this cold Sunday night
My team is losing, and I’m taking stock
Who out there understands my plight
I drink wine and watch the clock.

Fake news, I’ve heard, is killing us
Our democracy barely surviving now
And while truth is worthy of a fuss
At present, veracity has bowed out.

Marches are planned, vigilance urged
I take heart in good people on my side
Senators on speed dial hopefully heard
The earnestness with which I cried.

Staying in the Life Outside

Keep your windows open! What a great piece from Jan Wilberg.

Jan Wilberg's avatarRed's Wrap

When summer turned to fall, the old man closed the window, not because he was cold, not yet, but because he thought he might be cold soon. And he didn’t want to be found lying dead on the bedroom floor in deep winter with snow heaped around him, the pipes in the house all frozen. It would make people think he was demented, not just old, and he couldn’t have that.

He didn’t know how many days or weeks he had left, so it was better to close the window now and just be done with it. So that’s what he did.

Then he waited. He sat down and waited. Many things had surprised him in his life but death wouldn’t. He knew it was coming. Any minute. The window was closed.

When I turned 65, I felt like I had been diagnosed with a terminal disease and had only…

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Mistake 

Don’t 

Mistake me for a reasonable person. I’m too angry, too burned by the lies you’ve told carelessly.

How could you be so cavalier? The propaganda you’ve turned into incontrovertible 

Truths will be the end of us all. This is the way the world will cease, not with a bang, but a

Tweet. 

Snapshot #83

I’m in love with this photo. It was taken as I walked through my neighborhood. I call it, “Moon Over My Forest.”

Too Embarrassing for Words

I had an excruciatingingly embarrassing experience today. Just how embarrassing you ask? Well, let’s just say I am too mortified to relate it on this blog, and that’s saying a lot. 

Just as a caveat, be prepared for ANY eventuality when visiting a urologist’s office. In lieu of my embarrassing experience, here’s a picture of a shaggy dog. 


Peace, people!

Flowers on the Edge

A glimpse of crimson
vibrant ribbon wrapped bouquet
teeters on the edge


In lieu of flowers
donations were requested
yet few guests complied


overspilling sprays
dwarfed my meager offering
but the dead don’t care