I panicked when I realized I hadn’t taken a picture for the blog today. Fortunately, the subject needn’t be deep, just close at hand. I call this one, “My Left Foot, Not the Film, the Appendage.” (Note the bandage. I believe I was bitten by a radioactive spider and will soon develop super powers, or not.)
Please read this piece by alotfromlydia.wordpress.com. We MUST insure these greedy, heartless bastards, these sad excuses for human beings are not reelected in 2018.
It was a day worth celebrating for Republican supporters of the bill repealing healthcare benefits offered in the Affordable Care Act. Their “win,” which if followed by another “win” in the Senate, will result in countless deaths is a reason to celebrate—for them. The wealthiest country in the free world, it would appear, has the greediest politicians.
Our retribution will come on Election Day. The following members of the House of Representatives who voted yes are up for reelection next year:
*Jason Chaffetz was all smiles as he rolled in to vote yes on the bill that cuts healthcare coverage for millions of taxpayers— after having had his own elective surgery on a preexisting condition—paid for by tax payers.
The phrase that comes to mind when I think of this attitude toward healthcare is “There but for the grace of God go I.” I live in recognition that others misfortunes…
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Politics connected us, provided conversation.
We’d never met, and still, I wept the day
That Richard died.
I became friends with a fascinating man on Facebook through a Liberal group we’d gravitated to before this past election. Richard was smart, funny, and upbeat. I learned that he’d lost his wife a few months before we “friended” each other, and he was fighting through his grief while dealing with a grave illness of his own.
As he prepared for a round of chemo Richard asked for volunteers to play against him in Words With Friends, figuring it would be a great way to distract him from the rigors of chemotherapy.
I volunteered and we played one game after another. He was a novice player, and I beat him soundly every time. We didn’t chat much on the app; although, he promised he’d come out the winner eventually.
A couple of days ago Richard posted on FB that he was going to take some time away from the computer to concentrate all his energy on feeling better. We all wished him well and figured he’d be back in no time, not knowing how very sick he was. The man never complained.
This morning, though, a post from Richard’s brother let us know that our friend had succumbed to complications from pneumonia. All of those who’d befriended him in our political group are devastated, and I cried all morning for the loss of this friend.
We never met in person. Chances are our real world paths never would have crossed, but I valued his friendship. And I mourn his death. Rest easy friend.
Peace, people.
My new washer and dryer arrived today exactly one month from the day a lightning strike rendered my washer unrepairable. I call this one, “I Hereby Christen You Ida and Oscar. Long May You Launder!”
May the 4th be with you!
Peace, people!
Dancing at the Mall
by Leslie Noyes
A song from my teens wafted down into the food court where I was engaged in a lackluster meal.
Putting a limp slice of pepperoni pizza aside, I rose from a red plastic bench and danced enthusiastically to
Twist and Shout, my Ferris Buehler moment, while lunch breaking students watched with open mouths,
Giggling and pointing at my intricate gyrations. I winked and smiled and reveled in the knowledge
That I’m alive and at sixty still capable of doing the audacious thing when the music hits me just right.
I noticed our cat, Patches, looking puzzled while peering intently out into the backyard this afternoon. She didn’t seem agitated like she might be if a snake was the object of her attention, nor was she chattering in the way cats do when a bird is in sight. This little guy was causing the commotion. I think we should call it, “Mom, Why Is That Rock Moving?”
Trying to raise awareness for lymphedema sufferers. The cost of supplies are often not covered by insurance even though they are necessary to patients well being. My blogging friend at sanselife.wordpress.com is affected by lymphedema–a condition she’ll have to deal with for her entire life. Please read more on her site.
Not a tattoo but a compression sleeve and glove to combat lymphedema.
Lymphedema was caused by damage from my cancer treatments. I have to wrap my arm like this every night, applying compression to my arm to keep the accumulation of lymph fluid from swelling my arm into a scary huge mess:
Compression is 24-7. During the day it is sleeves and gloves. The sleeves and gloves suggested by my physical therapist are the same color and ugly as heck. Note the seams on the fingers, makes typing a chore.
Discouraged I scoured the internet to find alternatives. Ta-da! LympheDivas, a comfortable and fun alternative.
Just working up the courage to wear one of these:
Take your big red pen and mark an x over the parts you find offensive. I guarantee you’ll cross out
Obscenities right and left. But will you not obliviate the hunger of starving children? A curse word upsets
Your delicate sensibilities but the thought of a woman panhandling only causes disdain. Pull yourself up
By your bootstraps! you cry, without noticing she’s sold her boots to feed her children. You claim
To be pro-life, but in truth you are only pro-birth. Stop pretending you care when you voted for a heartless bastard.
Praying for Eyebrowz 