Contemplation

Again, wow, it's been a long time since I blogged.  Delilah has added 2 gray hairs in addition to the gray whisker that has sprouted.  I don't like it, the fact that she's getting older and slower in gait.  The energy remains, but she seems to deplete that energy more rapidly.   Watching her play revives me when I am low.   She circles the pool, plowing her nose into the ground to try and catch a mouse or other small critter that only she can see, sniffing, digging, backing up and moving forward again toward the ground and the hidden and, undoubtedly, terrified creature crouching there.

She then bounds down the hill and stands at the redwood type border to the porch, staring intently at me through the vertical wooden slats, tongue lolling and grinning without abandon.  I am sweeping with a straw broom, trying to keep the porch tidy.  Dust and hair fly all over the place as I handle the dustpan with expertise.  This is not new to me, and at least my upper arms are getting exercise.  Squats with barbell are next.   Delilah and I are a team.   She in eating her supper snuffles the bowl-da with her medium snout, and I never doubt that she may not taste any morsel.  She lives with the delight of a child.

I in my day-to-day ponder all that is with disclaimers clanging and what ifs echoing in my questing mind. 

Join us and help Delilah and me on this journey.  Follow.

Draft of a short story

The Work of Wasps It's hard to remember now whether the nest belonged to hornets or to paper wasps, but she's inclined to believe the latter, but she seemed to recall there were 2 sets of papery wings, which would indicate hornets. But, she's not certain. So, Minda shall assume paper wasps, aka subfamily Polistinae, and akin to Vespidae, of the order of Hymenoptera. The window has now been closed in her current house, as not to invite the wasps who have for the past 2 years frequented this house to return. She does this, not for any love for the new human who will indwell the house at 3020 N.W. 71 Street in Oklahoma City, but to spare the wasps certain annihilation at Homo Sapien's hands. She in her new home will again welcome any wasps who choose her abode for nest building. She assumes they will chew a lot of plant stems and keep houseflies at bay. She pronounces the wasp social gathering and colony good. The queen, the drones, and the workers are not her enemies. Their venom is the only fluid she need fear, and she has no intention of getting stung. She respects them and believes that they will not bother her unless she disturbs them. The possible destruction of parts of the house are minimal, and the wasps are certainly welcome to partake. It's not that important. The wasp nest building began in earnest in the Spring of 2009, and they manifested faithfully after that; the insects for the 2nd time chose the bedroom window that faced the south. She supposed it was because of easy access, the outer window being opened and all, but the location of the sun could have played a part as well. She knew that they gravitated and rested on the window when the sun hit it, for warmth, and perhaps that was why they chose that specific location. She was convinced it was not randomly chosen. Fascinated, she stood at the window watching the wasps work in the nest, their chewing and affixing the paper to the expanding nest steady and determined. Little relaxation was to be had. They wanted survival. As with this careful observation, she regarded all types of creatures with reverence and respect, seeking to learn factual information about them by watching them and conducting basic research online, research that corroborated her idea that no living entity in and of itself was “evil,” it was the humans who chose to apply the term “evil” to the creatures that were around them, when in fact, co-existence was a necessary fact of life. This is how silly wars started, and God had nothing to do with human contrariness, from the beginning. If indeed, as some argue, “God created all,” then how is this basic concept so forgotten in the day to day of life. Why is not more acceptance the norm? Lack of war and pacifism is not weakness. Her allergies to wasps was not relevant. They deserved a fair shake. Wasps, like humans, are social creatures, and in groups they help the others “build,” not “tear down.” Certainly, if humans try to intercede and bother the wasps, they will sting, but not because they're evil. They, like us, want to protect and hold onto what belongs to them. We protect our “space” too; the higher the mammal, the more elaborate the weapons we use in order to protect what is ours. If “evil” is the foundation, then humans who strive to protect their homes from outsiders are “evil” as well, and no creature is “more demonic” than any other. She, like them, was misunderstood. She'd sting, and look ominous, but would die when “stepped upon.” It withered her, just like they would die when simply crushed by some larger human. Unneccessary. Some friends were convinced that certain creatures were evil, based upon how they looked, being homely, or whether they were poisonous. Snakes and spiders, in particular, received unwarranted slander based upon a human interpretation and perception about useless cobwebs or some other silly trivial matters. She was advised repeatedly, in reference to the wasp nest, “you need to tear that down,” or “Spray it with Raid, kill them, and then avoid having that happen again.” The latter she certainly could agree with, but she refused to kill the wasps. There was no logic to simply slaughtering them, she did not mind their presence, and would stand for hours, marveling at how they moved as one social unit. She was, mindful of them, however, being that she was highly allergic. She did not want to be stung, but saw no reason to hurt them for simply choosing her bedroom window as the place to plant themselves and care for the Queen. They worked hard to establish this nest, and it grew and grew. “Fascinating” she would say excitedly to her mother. “They work and work.” Prejudice is the real sin. She was convinced, and stated this frequently. “Prejudice and anger destroy,” and even the tiniest of life, even venomous wasps, had a role to play upon the Earth. Who decided that they were of no use? Or, was the girl who watched them naïve and too innocent in her mind? She preferred trust, because she was cynical and jaded enough, and loving innocent creatures helped keep her faith somewhat strong, in the goodness of all life that existed upon the Earth. Nothing was not important, she was convinced. They all played a part in a “Master Plan,” for lack of better terminology. God does not make “junk.” The nest is empty now, and she watched the wasps fly away to newer horizons, and those who stayed as the fall beckoned clustered, and the 4 or 5 who huddled in the window warmed one another, she thought. It seemed to be the norm for them to huddle, like football players, for they needed the others. She peered out the window daily as the cold set in, and one day they were all gone. She gazed at the bottom of the window, and did not see any wasp carcasses, so she assumed that they had managed to get out, for by now she had decided that the window should be closed against further intrustion by the wasps. She knew a new homeowner would, in all liklihood, not be as nice to them as she had been in her 10 years in this house. She left the outer window open an inch, and somehow they were smart enough to figure it out and all had eventually flown. That was the hope that sustained her heart. Smart, smart of them. Since winter arrived she could now fully close the window in order to prevent new wasps from flying into this window again and building a new nest. The nest was now beginning to dry and crumble. As of now, however, the window is still open about an inch, but she frets. She does not want any wasp to die because of lack of understanding on the new homeowner. She prefers now to doing her part to keep the wasps completely out, so she plans to close the window fully before spring. It will save wasp lives. She doesn't expect people to understand this level of commitment to other creatures. She even hates to kill flies and tries to shoo them from the house as much as possible. She has swatted flies, and is nearly beside herself that she as a human has the capacity to kill even a small insect. It is not in her character to destroy. “The notion that human life is sacred just because it is human life is medieval.” ― Peter Singer All the arguments to prove man's superiority cannot shatter this hard fact: in suffering the animals are our equals.” Peter Singer quote

Too long

I simply must post blog comments more often. Followers, come forth.

Yum

A simple meal: scrambled eggs with Organic Valley cage free hen eggs and french toast with Rudi's organic bakery white bread. pinch of cinnamon, Organic Valley 1 % milk, beaten into an egg. Dip the bread into this mixture and fry in butter. Not sure about the caloric count, but I like it. I also add a little vanilla to the egg mixture. Simple pleasure.

Timeless Tuesday

My goodness (pardon the cliche), I've been neglectful of my blog. I was reading a recent article in the Daily Oklahoman that stirred my sensibilities about conservative approaches to "stiffing" the Oklahoma taxpayers and making them pay for pricy junkets. What a waste of taxpayer money. I loathe Mary Fallin, such a hypocrite, a hypocrite of the highest order. "It's necessary," she whined in the article, for Oklahoma's "economy" to grow. Puhleeze. No matter, taxpayers should never have to foot the bill for this type of frivolous actions on the part of state government officials. If private industry CEOs and other business people want to bring their companies to Oklahoma, let them pay for the government representatives to fly to Paris France and stay in $400.00 a night hotels to attend international aerospace industry conferences. Outrageous that state taxpayers have to pay for this without their knowledge. I would have voted NO. Budgets are being slashed to programs involving education, health, and other public social programs, yet money is being spent on sending wealthier people to Paris France under the "guise" that this type of events are helping Oklahoma. Taxpayers also paid for food for these people. I'm surprised that there are not more people rising up against this type of activity. This is public money, and how is this even reasonably justifiable or defendable on government officials' parts. Officially known as "screw the taxpayer" by Mary Fallin's "entourage."

Fathoms of Friday, Sept. 23

Some days my thoughts take specific turns, and today I'm thinking about some recent statements that were made about how humans are more valuable than other forms of life.  That is not logically or evidentially justified.  In fact, that remark, being that it was overloaded with emotion, kinda angered me.  My observations follow:  Those who kill for reasons other than the instinctual need to stave off hunger are of the human persuasion and therefore the phrase "higher thinker" and precious does not apply. Humans are the ones who are capable of plotting to destroy and thus use more than mere instinct with hateful attitudes toward others and willful mayhem.

As humans grow more socially isolated, will this type of behavior increase and become more common?  Humans in many cases think of others as "objects," and are not behaving as those with higher capacity for thought at all.   Human beings at their "lowest anatomical denominator" are just beings with organs, blood, saliva, other fluids, muscles, etc., the same as all other creatures who currently walk this planet.  The fact that we as a species think we're superior only makes us inferior.   Is the brain an "accurate measuring stick?"  For example, each human has the brain muscle encased inside a skull, but that does not automatically mean much essence and thought patterns exist.  If the person doesn't think, then the brain is diminished and thus is not of much benefit.

Savvy Sunday

I'm thinking that another name for a blog is a public diary of sorts, in which I can record my thoughts and musings of the day.  What a concept.  Hope that soon more is involved and results from my contemplations.   Would be nice since I'm desirous of change and a stronger yearning to be at home more with my work.   Wishful.

Been teaching for ten years and, although fulfilling, it's losing some of its luster and ability to thrill.  Why is boredom so readily apparent?  The largest issue is that teaching no longer represents a challenge.   It is running its gamut.   Yet I must continue for now and teach away.    As Paul Simon has written, "Slip sliding away."

Contemplating also the senseless loss of life that can occur in the rapidity of a lighting strike.  This past Tuesday, a gal from my church was allegedly murdered in her home by a neighbor who lived 2 houses away.   Besides being sobering, it is reflective in that, again, there is an underlying reminder that life is but a vapor that can disappear in a heartbeat.   Crazy stuff.  I did not know Paula well, but that fact is not the most pertinent issue; it's the concept and the reminder that dark shadows are upon us all, and we do not know what form these will take in each of our lives.   I'm not afraid of death, but when / if I'm put into that "direct doorway," I ponder as to what my responses will be.  How will my death occur?   I hope that it is as natural as possible.     My body shall be given to Chambers Funeral Home in Wellsburg, West Virginia, a fact that is really not relevant to death itself, but as a fact that I feel comforted by.   If I do not get to leave Oklahoma in my life, I will make sure that I do upon my demise.   Back to Paula:  such a tragic end to a peaceful life; not fair. 

Monday of Labor

In contemplative mood today.  Comes and goes.  Perhaps this is because my lovely days of whimsy will soon be behind me.   No, they may fade to black temporarily, but they soon resume.  Nice.  I'm just poor monetarily, however.  Poor as sand.  Even the thought of a pending payday fails to bring joy.  Joy shall return on the "morrow."      That's what makes joy such a strong emotion and great inner value.  The fact that sometimes the joy does fade, then resumes, is what makes it so poignant, meaningful, and special. 

Worked on book some.   Yay.  Graded some student essays this weekend. 

I need fruit, that is all. 

Sweet Sunday

Michelle Bachman, dear readers, in my humble idea, is a twit. She wants to “save” this country. What in the name of God does this mean, exactly? Individuals can make their own decisions about “salvation,” and they don't need Michelle Bachman to pave the way. It's none of her business what individual citizens do with their own lives anyway. She's not a savior, in any way, shape, form, or quota. Maybe that's it. Maybe she has some innate insecurity about proving how good she is to God. Rubbish.   The kind of Federal Government that exists has no bearing upon an individual's spiritual state of mind.   The two are not connected in any way.  Also, there should be communities of people expounding upon the idea of building trust and social capital, but the Federal Government also has a role to play in its citizens' lives, most importantly in the realm of social programs.   Every citizen deserves to be honored in that way.    Just because the Federal Government is honored to provide for its citizenry does not mean that churches should not be "stepping up to the plate" and helping people.   There is place in this Western society for people to love one another and for the Federal Government to spend money on its citizens through Social Security, Medicare, and through other programs like Health insurance.  This will not cancel local communities and groups, it can only enhance them.  Money is purposeful and so is local social capital.

Solemn Sunday

I've neglected my blog, which leaves an unsettled feeling.

I recently returned from a road trip to West Virginia, and what an adventure that proved to be.  More to come.   I was hoping to snag a picture of the Arch in St. Louis, but since traffic was snarly, I had to pay close attention to road signs and traffic.  Cars zoomed on either side of me, and daylight was ebbing.  I loved this adventure.  I recommend activities such as this that will stretch one's boundaries, character, mind, body, and limitations.

I am now in Oklahoma again, after the nice visit with my folks, and I ponder being so far away from my family; 1,000 miles seems so far.  I miss them.  How does one reconcile the facts and the lonliness of one's heart?   I hear the phrase, "making the best of it" as the situation is.  Well, that is all well and good; but, being the conflicted person that I am internally (I tend to be melancholy), this concept does not ring true for me.   The emotions will just have to be made right on their own.    The more I force myself to be jolly, the more despondent I grow.  Why is that?   Chemical makeup too? 

Oklahoma has served its purpose in my life; time to wander and ponder, I muse.   An excerpt from my memories (book?) follows:

Every summer when I was a kid, fried pattypan squash inundated our lives. Fresh from their garden, along with White Half Runner Green Beans (let's be very specific about this, because this was the only green bean that I thought existed as a child), and we never bought green beans at the grocery store, carrots, cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, and numerous other vegetables, undoubtedly, that I have since forgotten about, graced our dining table along with basic meat cuts like pork chops and roast beef. I loved the treat of spaghetti, for my Mom, although not the best cook, concocted a killer homemade spaghetti sauce with onions, tomato sauce, tomato paste, and tons of spices. I relished it. My Dad was emotionally bereft, but his love trickled down to my brother and me through the massive garden he planted each summer and treated as lovingly as a baby; he hoed and weeded and sprayed and killed big fat tomato worms that clung stubbornly to the vines so that we would have enough food to eat. Ray Moore was not a farmer, per se, it was just the garden that occupied his summers, but as a young family man he took his role as provider seriously. The garden thrived, and I don't recall that there was ever a summer when the garden did not produce. My favorite was carrots. As I look back, I can not believe that I ever grew sick of garden food, for I would give my molar teeth to have fresh vegetables such as this on a daily basis.

Whimsical Wednesday

My male cat is a burglar; he robbed a cricket of its leg yesterday. 

My soul is lighter today; my essence is liberated more.

Oh. my. goodness.  I guess I was on a date last night.  I think of it as a "friend excursion," however.  The conversation was intellectually stimulating, full of some humor, thoughtful, insightful, interesting, and about a mix of subjects, even the heavy ones like religion and politics, all without rancor.  Imagine that.   I was impressed at the lack of emotion conveyed.   General discussion without feeling a need to prove anything.  Nice. 

Sometimes I hate the state of Oklahoma so badly I can taste it.   I'm scorned.  I loathe Mary Fallin, which is numero uno on my list, and then I despise the unwieldy conservatism that rears its unrealistic head.  Sickening.   The best value about Oklahoma City is its diversity of people and the storms that occur sometimes.  That is all.   Ugh.

I wrote a little on my book.  Yay for me.   The thoughts of my grandmother's cooking when I was a child are making my mouth water.    Aaaaaah.  Good memories.

Melodious Monday

The laugh is a cover for inner screams.

I live, laugh, cry, love and know that soon a new semester will begin.  

I treated myself today to a little breakfast at Cracker Barrel.  

I enjoy who I am, despite the fact that there seems to be a lot missing, just not sure what is at the root of the lack of total satisfaction.   I feel this more keenly today.  I'd rather just have reasons to stay at home and putter the remainder of my life.   I want to travel, but not just in my longings, in life, to explore, to discover, to meet new people, to thrive everywhere, to not just dream about through books and in my own mind.   That it has come down to a mere scraping to survive.   Futility.

I look around, and I think, "is this all there is?"  Life is so highly over rated.  I hate life sometimes.  There's just not enough experiences.  I want to see my folks more frequently.   Not enough money for that even.  How can I prevent?  The answer is that I can't.  I must suffer through right now and muster courage.

I know I've penned these thoughts repeatedly, and I may write a sad and boring refrain, but this is what targets me at this stage in my life.  The bright side is that I do have fodder for writing, and bright times burst forth like fireworks silohuette; but also like firework sparks, the hues fizzle quickly into blackness and dissipate into the night.

Sometimes there just aren't enough swearing words to depend upon.  

Stupendous Saturday

Black mood.   Hate Oklahoma, which punishes people for being poor.   Hate people.  Life is negative today, but I know that somehow there will be light at some point.   There has to be.   When I grow weary of struggling, I just try to let go.   Harder today because sinuses are acting up, and I would like to just cut them out myself.  LOL.

Not in the mood much for people except to just have cursory contact through Facebook, and even that is not as appealing today, so I'm gonna dance with the vacuum cleaner.   Or my dog.

I was just reminded by a dear aunt that I'm the only person that I have to live with all the time and that being at peace with my personhood is a mighty fine place to be in life.   Overall, I encourage any of my readers to remember that too:  love yourself and be good to yourself and remember that you have worth as a human.   I have worth and value, and that wholly comes from within.   No other human can create that worth for me, only I can do that for myself.   Only then can I truly love others.

Frolicking Friday, Not Really

Feeling melancholy and introspective today, in a wishful state. 

Found out that a friend lost her mother, which always causes sadness to creep into my soul, body, mind, heart, brain.  Most of all the brain, since it's the control tower of the entire person that I am.

Oh woe.

Have Sallie Mae to pay (no rhyme intentional) and a few greeting cards.

Just fried an egg.  Made a mistake and accidentally broke the yolk.  That upsets me.  I like to dunk the Organic Valley egg, not just eat it.  I'm a colossal failure at this.   I was tempted to start with a new egg, but my practical side said, "oh, eat it."  So I will, with a frown.   Next time.

I don't feel like focusing on many details today.  I am thinking it's time to widen my circle of single friends.  Maybe I'll meet an interesting man, and I'm trying to make myself go to a single function / party at BJs this evening.    Scoot, scoot, I say to myself, unconvincingly at best.

House is still for sale.

Eruption of inner weeping.  Today is dragging, and I have some activities planned, but not a strong desire to follow through and actually participate.    I'm going to try and force myself to get out a little bit despite my less-than-contented state of mind.    Depressed.

I have to mention, because I wrote on FB that I would, Rudi's Organic Bakery.  Such a variety of bread and hamburger buns.   I like their products.  Rudi's Organic Bakery.  Check it out.

Wish infectious enthusiasm would overtake me.   I have the Midas touch.  That's how I think sometimes.  But, it all works out greatly, even if times are imperfect.  Cheers !

TranscendentThursday

A transcendent Thursday, rising above the normal as far as the average day.  Did not wake up until nearly 11 a.m., which was rather nice.   I was eager to see how outside kitty was doing, so I checked on her first.  She's the kitty who was attacked by a stray dog recently, dear readers.  What a mess.  She had peed all over herself, the cage, soaking the food bowl, the spilled food, the water bowl, and the cage floor in urine.  Poor thing.  She hates to be cooped up, but since she's still on the vet-issued antibiotic, necessary.  I am not trying to be mean to her by keeping under "tight wraps," but until I've given her all the medication, it will be a necessary "evil."   I took her out of the cage and washed her body off as best I could at the outside faucet, lugged the cage to the backyard, where I shall scrub it all with water and soap (have not yet undertaken this task).  BTW, I will be using Seventh Generation liquid laundry detergent as the cleansing agent.  

Not to digress, but I have within the last year discovered Seventh Generation products, and I love them.  They just smell natural and fresh, not synthetic.   

Anyhoo, I then had to think about Delilah the wonder dog.  She, I remembered, needed her flea medication Comfortis, so after playing on the computer for awhile, she and I took off in Toyota Camry for the bank to deposit a check and the vet to get the flea medicine.   Done, yay, another task of love accomplished for my lovely doggy.   I just could burst with love. 

I am nearing my neighborhood, when up ahead I see a Smart car parked in the right line with its flashers on, so I drove into the left lane to go around the car.  As I neared it, I saw a lady senior citizen standing by the right rear tire, and I clearly heard her hysterically say, "STOP, STOP."  I hesitated for a few minutes, but I decided to pull over and park.   I grabbed my I Phone and walked toward her car, and she was clearly upset, saying statements like "You're the first one to stop."   She was emotionally venting about today's world and how people did not care anymore, and how the lack of trust was terrible.   As I drew closer, I saw that she had a cane.  She said, "I've been out here for 1/2 hour and I need to get out of this sun."  She wanted to sit in my car, but I was afraid Delilah would not cooperate about a stranger approaching the car.   Anyway, the elderly lady said that she had recently broken her hip.   By this time, a gentleman in a silver / gray car had stopped, and he let her sit in his car.  

The drama does not end here, however.  I called her husband again (she said she had already called him and that he was on his way), and then called 911 and gave the operator the house number of the nearest house I saw (she had previously called 911 too), which was pretty smart of her.   It did not take long for an ambulance to arrive (in fact, there were 3 emergency responder vehicles:  a fire truck and several police cars).   A lot of quick respondents.   In the meantime, the woman's daughter had arrived, and she was yelling at the man who let the lady sit in his car.  She told him, "back off" and "fuck you."  She got mad because the man could not figure out why she let her elderly mother be out by herself in this heat.    Emotions were running rather high on their parts, and the ambulance technician had to intercede and say, "let's not fight, let's take care of this lady."

Oh, I forgot my other important role.  I walked to the car where the elderly lady was sitting and answered some of the 911 operator's questions of the lady and her daughter, such as "Does she have chest pains?" and "has she ever had a heart attack?" and "what is her skin temperature?"  It scared me, because lady's face was really red, and she was still hysterical and out of it emotionally.   The 911 operator gave me some other instructions, but the paramedics were there by then and I just the thread of the oral instructions from the 911 operator about what I should do if the lady grew worse physically.  They removed her from the car, put her on a stretcher and loaded her into the ambulance then.  I left soon thereafter, but I first asked the police officer if there was anything else that they needed from me.  They said, "no," that I could go.   

That be the end of this adventure !   Now I'm exhausted and really glad to be home.  I ate a club sandwich at City Bites around 4 p.m. and hung out there after dinner until 5 p.m. so I could get my free Pumpkin Cookie (had a coupon).  End of story.  That is it.

a few more "tidbits":  "When one burns a bridge, it might be wise to fling the lighted match slowly," "I need a drink," LOL, and I love it when the gray hairs fall from my head, dear readers.

Wednesday, Wednesday

Woke up.  Cut grass in bare feet, not a good idea; nonetheless.  Fed neighbor's dog.  Ate a lemon tart, feel better mentally.  Alert, coffee drinking fool that I am. 

Have decided that I need to blog every day regardless of how lazy I am.  Aimless too. 

That is all.  This is a public diary.  How scary.   But, fun.  We are all similar, similar dreams:  the same anatomical features, humans are all more alike than different.   Some just don't know it yet.    They might if they'd put down their damn guns and stop killing themselves, each other, The Earth, and wild animals.  Hmmph.

My thoughts are scattered and random today, and I think I'll go with that.  I'm still introspective, but since yesterday my mood has lightened considerably.  I'm not as angry as I was yesterday.

I live a cavernous life.   Not quite sure what is meant by this remark, but I like it.  It fits. 

The house is still not sold.  Sighing.

Sometimes a gal just needs a little honey, so I set it out so I can remember to put some into my beverage later.  For now, though:  grilled cheese, and I've discovered that Applegate Farms's pepper jack cheese makes great grilled cheese sandwiches.   Perfect.

While eating, I was reading an article in The New Yorker about the rebellion in Libya, and the camaraderie I felt, although one sided, was real.  I hurt for these people, and the fact that some of the rebels were killed.    It surely personalizes the human toll when a man therein mentioned loses his son to Qaddifi's army.   Could happen to any one of us.   It would behoove us in America to remember these events as a testimony as to how fortunate we are.    Some of those went there to help are Americans.  

I seem to always have a vague sense of disquiet that there is something I am not doing.  I'm afraid I'm going to forget something important, and this causes anxiety.   Logically, it will be alright, but I still grow anxious.    

Tuesday, hmmm

Oh for change.   I wonder if the phrase "descent into madness" is accurate.  Ascent into madness might be a better way of saying it.   Reality sucks, and sometimes I ardently think it would be nice to not worry about any frickin responsibilities and let my mind and its demons prevail, to slip away.  I'm trying to write more, and do 5011 other needed activities, day by day by day.   Madness seems preferable at times, especially when I'm so bored with this routine that I want to pull my hair out. 

How are people all around me so seemingly satisfied?   I don't want to wallow in my psychological state of dismal outlook, but pretending I don't feel this way does not work, and usually makes me angrier and more despondent. I grin forcedly, so it actually is a grimace.

Doggy barks at the most useless times, and I yell at her because I'm high strung and can't stand the noise.   Poor doggy Delilah, who only wants to protect her home from strangers and possible thieves.  What she does not recognize is that every Tuesday the Buyers Guide guy comes to deliver the weekly.

Gotta run, any dear readers, to get outside kitty from the vet.  For practical purposes, I have called first to ensure that she is ready to come home.  Nope, glad I called first.  The vet techs want to bathe her out of kindness and make her pretty.   Sugar was "worked over" yesterday by a nasty stray dog.  If I get ahold of that dog I'll ...

I'm still in Oklahoma; even the state's name is hokey and "behind the times."  I have seen all that there is to see, and I want to leave so greatly I can hardly bear it.  Useless.    I'm sure there are others who can relate, but life is just listless and dull any more.   I drag my feet today, and nothing sounds fun, just seems banal.    Taking small steps is even difficult, yet it's as simple as walking into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee.  It can be done.  : o )

Angie Peyton called me today; I was approved, yay.

Checked on the neighbor's dog, he was happy to see a human, and his tail knocked over the garbage pail. 

Dishes rattle in the sink like dry bones, and the toilet tank begins running all by itself from time to time.  Amuses me.