Keep on keeping on ~
Hello to ALL ~
I woke up feeling heavy. I don’t write anymore. It’s too much. It’s too personal. It’s too prickly. It’s too opinionated. So I feel it inside. I don’t write anymore. I eat more. I don’t visit my friends anymore. I wonder what they would write about, if they felt like they lived in an ant bed. If they become volatile, at least once a week. If their family is something that they have to believe does not exist, to survive. I should say most of the family. Fuckers! If their daughter had died with cancer. If they had been married to a deceitful, manipulating, physically and emotionally abusive man, who had only married you to begin with, because you were the bosses daughter. If everyone around you wants to talk about illness and not wellness. If they lived by a mill, that when the west wind blows, it has an incinerator smell. If your whole body hurt, from seven minutes of wall balls and burpees. If someone had kidnapped their dog in Costa Rica. If their daughter had managed a meth lab, that seemed sanctioned by the county officials. If they see a man on a bicycle, who looks like an alien, because his being has been ravaged by chemicals, and he is on a mission. If you’re cut off from your fishing places, the ones you have enjoyed your entire life ~ now there’s a chain. Fuckers! If your husband gets hit by a car and has to pull the bike out of a bumper, only for the car, to speed away. If your last post wouldn’t upload. If a huge white truck, almost t-boned your little Toyota and your adrenalin shot through the top of your head and you jumped out of the truck, screaming, “Are you crazy!”. If you walk around wondering why are you so re-active. If you cry at a group function, appropriately explaining your feelings, concerning your daughter’s death and are told you should be on psychotropics. If Covid was here, but now it’s not. If that seems weird to you. If you can’t be vaccinated because you have a conflict of interest, concerning bouts with shingles. Fuckers! If you have to pull off the side of the road, approximately three times a day; sometimes once, sometimes, five times, because some fool is two inches off your bumper, and you are the only two people on the road. If your mind was recently tortured by your life, your parents lives and the lives of your ancestors. If you haven’t seen your friends, in a while.
Hello ~ Good-bye
I feel better now.
This is my brother, the one, the only. It’s complicated I love my brother.
There couldn’t be more ~
Today, I threw away some cookies. They were vanilla and chocolate. They sit out on a counter, where people fix their coffee. I was hungry, so I grabbed two. They were awful. They were stale. I’m sure they would never be threatened by ants or roaches.
I need to replace the cookies. I would prefer, they were not there at all. They are processed and cancer producing. Who really needs that? But none the less, there they are.Continue reading Cookies
Mary Frances Lowe Peterson was my great – grandmother. She lived on Blair Road, on the family farm. She was born and raised on the families land tract. She was there, when my mother woke up, as a five year old, smelling smoke and hearing a crackling noise.She alerted the family, saving their lives, from a fiery death. A night they never forgot! They lost everything, but themselves. The little, curly haired cherub, became an instant hero. Mary also lived with my Grandmother, Elizabeth Peterson McInarnay, on Phyllis St. The family had built a house there, following the farm house burning to the ground.
They rebuilt the farm house.Continue reading Family History
The air is water. I am water. Protected and encumbered, by a roof and walls. I am here, on plastic. Red plastic. My fingers move on plastic squares, with a roof, over my head.
I see my future. Many people. Rules, lines, plastic cards.
Smile ~ don’t forget to smile.
A fish does not smile. A fish swims.
I am a fish.
This term is generally associated with opposing violence. A person who seeks peace and refuses to participate, in military service. Some choose to take on other war services, such as being a medic. There are various outlooks; from fleeing the draft, to persevering, through the courts, with the conviction, their perspective, honorable.
We all have a different way of looking at things.Continue reading Conscientious Objector
I was browsing my now old and almost defunct web page, documenting surfing in Fernandina Beach, FL, and Avellanas, Costa Rica and a few other spots, as well.
As long ago, as it was, that I took this photo, I remember it. As I do every shot, that I take and keep
I am not a poet. I have a beat. I have an attitude.
I have been beat ~ down
I have been lifted up ~
I have placed my weight so far out, that I hindered my chances ~ a brief encounter
stalked by an engagement of force that left me
waiting for breath
I am not a poet.
I was reading in WordPress management areas. They have many ideas for making money and getting your blog out there, for the masses to read. I have to laugh, because that’s the last thing I would want to do.
I do enjoy people reading my journal, and sharing bits and pieces of my life. But it’s like everything else; too many people just creates a cluster.
But it’s random. The people who are suppose to read it, do.
We are individuals, that the world works to harness, saddle and corral.
It’s not an easy thing to do these days.
Friends are the best. But everyone is not going to be in your tribe. Don’t waste time people pleasing.
Don’t compare your insides, to other people’s outsides. Meditate. Form a relationship with God. Be true to yourself.
It’s a long hard road. Stay out of the herd. Even Warren Buffet knows that’s the beginning of the end. When Warren talks people listen!
Read. Educate yourself. Cherish the night, but avoid the dark. Be a light. Help others.
Love God with all of your heart and Love your neighbor as yourself.
People first ~ Money second
*It’s 3:40 in the morning. I am in my study, in my cave, which is in my garden. We create our lives, with our thoughts. That’s how I got here, at this moment, in time. I am thinking of technology, WordPress, change, life and love. I am grateful for my fisheye farm platform. It assists me. It is my friend. * I normally use my own photos, but all of these intriguing shots are, from the FREE Pexel Pics. — I wonder what it will cost me.