Count Down to 60-- broken but not without worth

What good is a bucket with a hole in it? What good, is a pot, where the handle is broken off? What good, is a Frisbee that is split down the middle? How are they broken, but still with worth?

 Our German Shepherd, Bella, has learned how to catch a Frisbee in flight. It only took her a couple of tries before she had it figured out and was chasing and catching the thing in mid-flight. I'm sure our neighbors were either loving the show yesterday or thinking I had totally lost any sense I had as I cheered Bella on with each successful catch. We were back out there for a while this afternoon. I don't play with her long as I fear the heat being too much for her and all of that running. Today as we were playing it happened. She brought the Frisbee back to me and it was split almost down the middle. Telling her it was broken was useless as she still sat there expecting me to throw it again. So I did. Surprisingly it still flew. It had a new wobble to its flight, but it still flew. We played a while longer, with me expecting that plastic disk to split completely at any moment. It held together though for the rest of our game. The new wobble giving it that extra challenge to this over achieving dog.

 How many times do we look at something and think it is useless because something is broken? A pot with a broken handle, can become a food or water dish for a pet. It can become a planter. It can be used for storage for kitchen gadgets, bathroom or office supplies. Therefore it is useful not useless.

A bucket with a hole in it, can be used for measured watering of plants. It can be used as a planter, where the hole allows excess water to drain out. Items can be placed in the bucket, with water poured over them to rinse with the hole allowing the water an escape route. Therefore it is useful, not useless.

 Its the same with people. People can be broken in many ways. Growing up in dysfunctional families can cause them to be less than trusting. Surviving an abusive relationship, being one who is either a member of the military or a first responder who has seen or been involved in incidents that cause post traumatic stress, can be seen as broken. The truth is, their very wounded state, can be a benefit and a tool for others. They know and understand what one who has not gone through what they have cannot. They are wounded, they are hurt, they are constantly walking a fine line, but their very walk, can be what someone else needs to see. They need to know that they too, can still stand, walk and even run in the face of what they have endured.

 Some are born with handicaps that have the uninformed looking at them as if they are broken and of no real worth. There has been incident after incident after incident showing just how much a person with learning or other disabilities are able to do and even excel in. Again, their walk one of proof of their worth.

Many people have lost limbs for different reasons, some due to being in the military, some to disease or accident. Once they healed, once they found their way and their determination, if you call them broken, they will laugh at you. Watch the videos of those without legs running in marathons. Watch as children use new prosthetic hands to pick up items, to color, to do for themselves where they couldn't before. Watch, as they live their life, just as well and sometimes better than one not considered broken.

A pencil with a broken lead cannot write, but sharpen that pencil and it is again useful in its purpose. Watch a person who is wounded, who has through education, through medical intervention, through faith, who is "sharpened" and watch as they are again useful in life. Watch as they move forward and lead the way into a better way. Watch as they are the difference for those like them.

Broken, but not without great worth.

Count Down to 60-- What Having Cancer Taught Me

I will be honest, for a while there, I was not the best at getting those yearly physicals. You know, the ones that are meant to help keep you healthy. I felt fine, I wasn't having any problems to speak of, so why go? Then, I reached the big 5-0. So I figured that I had better go, just to be on the safe side. After many times before telling me that I didn't need a mammogram yet, my primary care physician told me it was time. Not a problem, I thought. Unfortunately, the first mammogram found that I had  cancer in my right breast.

I had surgery to remove the cancer, I did not need a mastectomy and I did not need chemotherapy. I did have radiation therapy. That, to me, was worse than the surgery. I was left weak, with no energy, and wondering where I was going to find the strength to put one foot in front of the other. But I made it through, and I made it through stronger.

 During the treatments I would walk every afternoon. It was in the woods where I found my peace. I could walk and feel all the worries fade away. No matter how tired and weak I was, I could take those walks and feel so much better.

During the treatments I learned that junk foods made me feel worse. If I dared to eat a candy bar or pastry that was loaded with sugar, my system crashed and burned big time. I learned to fully enjoy vegetables and especially fruit. I could only tolerate one cup of coffee first thing in the morning. The rest of the day it was all water, and a lot of it.

 I had to get a certain amount of rest each night. Anything less and my system could barely function.

Every chance I got, I was doing research. I wanted to know how to feel better and I wanted to know the best ways to try and prevent the cancers return. It turns out that I was doing a lot of the right things. Eating better, finding a stress relief and rest. My body needed to heal, and my taking better care of it was allowing it to take better care of itself.

 I learned which foods were good at building up the body's defenses and helping fight off cancer cells. I learned simply ways to prepare them and whether they were better cooked or raw. I planted a garden and continue to plant one every year, some years doing better than others.

 I know a lot of people were praying for me, and I felt those prayers.

I never once said, why me? Because I think, that the reason I had cancer, the reason it was caught early, the reasons behind each step of the way, was so that I could share my story. So I could share what I have learned. So I could share the thoughts and knowledge that it can be beaten. It can in lots of ways be prevented.

I learned that we do have a way to go yet and we may never eradicate cancer, but we can fight, we can work heard, we can set that goal and strive daily to reach it. I've learned, never give up, never lose hope, never say never. 

Count Down to 60-Differences That Make Us

What have we become?

This morning as I was waiting on time to leave for work I was surfing social media and read a post by a friend. From what she said, she had been to a fitness center and the people behind her made some disparaging remarks. Their comments, obviously that were meant to be heard, about her size were rude and uncalled for. It has become sadly commonplace for so many to think it okay to insult, ridicule and verbally attack others. And before you say it, that freedom of speech thing, that is not a license to be rude and insensitive. It is not a constitutional okay to be abusive through the spoken or written word. Yes, we have a right to speak our mind, but we should have the common sense not to be cruel.

Before we speak, we should consider our words carefully. There are always possibilities that we may not know. That person who is over weight, may have medical issues. They may have an eating disorder. They may have reasons that they are unable to exercise to keep the extra weight off.  Eating may be a way they find comfort in difficult times. They may have genetic reasons. The very fact that someone is trying to help themselves and improve their health should be applauded not ridiculed.

We are all different physically. Our sizes vary, our height and weight as individual as all of our other attributes. Our eye and hair color, the sound of our voice, each individual traits. None of which are found in the 'things to make fun of' column.

Everyone has a talent or several talents. We can all do something well. But one who writes, should not ridicule the ones who are not able to write as well. Some have impressive musical talents, whether as singers are who play an instrument. Those who are able to sing and play, should not ridicule those who are less talented. There are those who are able to create an amazing work of art on a blank canvas. Those who are able to dance well enough to bring tears to the eyes of the ones watching.. Our intellectual levels differ, each one of us learned in different things and ways. Our talents and gifts each make us the individual who we are. They are not us, but they are a part of us.

 There are those who are handicapped. Some of the handicaps are not obvious or visible. Some are due to diseases, physical or mental. While on the outside they may appear to be fine, but they are severely limited in what they are capable of accomplishing. There are those whose handicaps are obvious as in the missing limbs. Some have birth defects such as Downs Syndrome. These things are not reason to ridicule. These things are not cause to curse, embarrass or slur another. Because one is different, does not make them less. Because one has handicaps does not make them targets. The very handicaps can and often do give the individual more cause to strive harder, move forward quicker and show, the talents and capabilities they possess.

This planet that we call home, is inhabited by many different ethnicity. From the many different continents, countries, counties we come. Our skins vary in hue, our words a mix of the many accents and languages. We are separated by natural barriers and man made barriers. Yet as separated as we are, we all inhabit the same planet. We are different and yet we are one, we are all human. Because this person is different from that person, it gives no one the right to insult or ridicule the other. Because one is different does not make them less of a person or less worthy of life and respect.

It saddens me when I see or hear someone attacking another.  Words hurt and words last. They become embedded in our mind and echo repeatedly, tearing down the confidence, destroying the desire to move forward. While we may think that our words are harmless, they hold great power. We should use that power to uplift and build up, not tear down. When we see someone trying to better themselves, we should use our words to encourage them, to stir them on to finish the quest they have set out on.

Our very differences, the things that we allow to divide us, are the very things that could and should strengthen us. The alphabet is made of twenty-six letters, apart they are merely letters, taken and placed together in proper order they make words that make sentences that create paragraphs. Words that allow us to express our thoughts and feelings.

A table full of ingredients , is just that, a table full of ingredients. Using the ingredients to follow a  recipe creates a tasty meal or wonderful desert.

Bricks, boards, nails and wire alone are simply that. Following a design and plans and they become a house.

The list goes on and on. The point is this, if we take the things that make us individuals and use them in cooperation with each other we can do amazing things. Together, we can do wonders and make great things happen. Together, as individuals working with each other, using the many talents and abilities, we can move the world.

If we can get past the childish, immature, cruel and rude acts of attacking others simply because they are different.

Count down to 60-Where I had hoped to be- where I am- and where you should stand.

Once upon a time, a long lifetime ago, I had all these dreams of being an author. I was going to write amazing stories that helped kids learn to read and imagine. I was going to spend my time happily in worlds and lives of my invention and thrive.

My earliest memories of my writing something that was read by someone other than mom, was in the second grade. I was back in North Carolina, after having started second grade in Florida. In Florida, I was in an advanced class, they didn't have that in North Carolina so I was actually back doing what I had done long before. Boredom. I recall that we had to write sentences using the list of spelling words. I wrote the sentences but I put it all together in the form of a story. I even underlined the words as we had been told. The teacher loved it, she read it to the class. So I did it again the next week. I got a low grade because I was only supposed to write sentences not a short story. Bummer. All of the excitement from the week before was destroyed.

 My next memories was as a high school student. I wrote a lot of poetry, some the sappy love type stuff that teenagers write, and others were those odd, have to read it several times to try and figure out where that one was going poems. Those were actually fun to write. I loved writing book reports and any other writings that we were instructed to come up with. Truth be told, I wrote things for anyone who would ask, just to be able to write more. I was popular, but some liked me just long enough to do their work for them. Such is life.

 During the summers I would do my chores and then spend a lot of the days writing. A friend and I were both writing these wild teenage stories of adventures with who ever was famous at that time. I'm not sure how many deserted islands were managed to get marooned on and with how many different artists, but it was fun and it was challenging and it did stretch the known boundaries outward. All of those wild stories and the teenage poetry were long ago lost. That is sad really, I wish that I had managed to keep at least some of it.

I took a children's writing correspondence course and even qualified for their advance course. Yep, send more of your money now.

Then, life as it was, happened. For a few years I traveled a very bumpy, rutted, rough road. I dealt with some storms that I never thought I would have to deal with. All of that imagination was being used to find the right path to surviving to see the next daylight. It wasn't all bad, but enough was and that is that.

Then, I returned to my roots. I returned to this short, narrow, dead end dirt road. From the main road it passes a few houses and then disappears into the woods. In those woods awaits the magic. In those woods, along the banks of the narrow, winding creeks awaited healing and the once lost imagination. In those woods, I could hear the echoes of long ago, the sounds of history that rode the winds. In those woods, I found what I had left behind.

My first paid writing was a very short couple of paragraphs to a magazine. I literally jumped for joy.

Then my son came along and writing was set on a back burner until he got a little older. As a preschooler I wrote and put together a few picture books. He and his teach really loved them

Then I found a web site that was a wonderful place for writers. Every day I wrote, inspirational poetry, through provoking, historical, odd, poetry. I wrote for challenges and for fun. Then, one challenge had me writing this poem that went on and on, epic and different than most anything I had written. The poem then evolved into a story and the story into a book of adventure, fights and dragons. Mythical creatures lurked around every bend and in every bog. It was fun to write as the characters followed me around everywhere. It was not unusual to find me talking with then at work, in the store, at home as they told me what was going on. This story became the self published Legend of Dragon's Doom.

I have also self published two books of inspirational poetry.

It was exciting when someone would purchase a book and ask me to sign it. It was exciting to do an online search and see where the books were available.

Then the web site I was enjoying imploded and was sold and everything changed. Since then even though I write, I don't write as I once did. I'm hoping that these postings for the count down to sixty will re-inspire me and set me back to doing what I enjoyed so much.

The dream is not dead. The dream and the hope is still alive, still lurking back in there somewhere with all of the characters of the dragons and poems. Maybe, if I wanted it badly enough, I could find a publisher who would be interested in what I write and I would be able to step away from the self publishing route. Or maybe, I will stay on that road so I can do what I want to with what I write. The main thing is, I need to write- something- every day.

Just as with all dreams, no matter what it is, if you dream never let it die. You may have to post pone it, you may have to set it on that back burner, but don't ever let it die. You had the dream for a reason. You believed you could do it, you wanted to do it, so don't let it die..believe in yourself. Believe in the gifts and talents you have been given and use them. You may have to use them in or for things other than what you meant for a while, but at some point, you can and will be able to use those talents to see the fulfillment of your dreams. Stand solidly in faith. It will work out if you want it badly enough, work for it hard enough and trust long enough.

Count down to 60---the gift of rainbows--

Some know I am an amateur photographer. I almost always have a camera at hand or within easy reach. I love attempting to capture the special beauty that is around us. I haven't been as active this summer for many reasons, but as the temperatures cool I hope to get out there more often. Yesterday was a start. I was sitting in front  of the computer, minding the business of everyone who shares on social media when the phone rang. My brother called to ask if I wanted to get a picture of a rainbow. When I asked where it was, he told me that he was standing in his front yard. I told him I would be right there.

 Grabbing the bag that contained my cameras I hit the front door at a dead run. I drove down which is something I do not normally do, but I was in a hurry. Note, my brother lives on the same road that I do, but my house and yard is covered by many huge Oak trees so that was blocking my view. Pulling into his drive I found myself looking at an incredibly beautiful rainbow, with a faint second rainbow directly above it.

 Taking out my camera I set to taking photos, lots of photos. I wanted to make sure I managed to get at least one decent shot. I even walked down the road to see about a different angle. Still taking photos I began to notice that there was what appeared to be a bad storm off in the distance. The flashes of lightening still not deterring me from taking more photos. Even the neighbor's small dog suddenly spotting me and going  into guard dog mode did not stop me. The dog's barking didn't bother me, I've been past it many times and so far all it has done is bark, a lot, at me.

It was misting rain heavily, but it actually felt good. I almost felt like a kid again, playing in the rain, chasing rainbows.

I did eventually decide that I had taken enough and put the camera away.  I talked with my brother and niece for a short while, accepting some good natured teasing about growing older and reminding my brother that he wasn't that far behind me.

 My brother thinking of me and calling to let me know about the rainbow was better than any gift that he could have purchased. (Even though the card was cute) It reminds me, once again, how some of the best things don't cost anything. A few moments playing in the rain chasing rainbows will forever be a priceless memory. Thank you my brother, I love you...

Count Down to 60

Yesterday was my birthday. Yesterday I celebrated 59 years since the moment of my entrance to the world. As I went through the day I began to think of the future that is so quickly approaching, and of the past. I know that as each milestone is reached we do this, once we reach a certain age anyway..but what I decided to attempt and actually hope to accomplish is to keep a daily journal of my journey to 60. I hope to record memories of growing up here on this dirt road and of the experiences away from here. I want to discuss all the things that you would expect to find in a blog and some that would surprise you. I want to be honest and at times imaginative and dreamy. I want to hope for the future and that I am allowed to see 60 and beyond.
I don't fear growing older, especially since there were times that I wondered if I would see the next day.
As a teenager I had what I took to be a near drowning experience. Whether it was actually as bad as I thought at the time, or if I simply panicked, I don't know. But I do know that I can still hear the sound of the water as I sank, I can remember the struggles to regain my footing and the gasping for breath once I broke the surface. My nightmare, is that I will die by drowning. So I avoid water that is too deep to keep my footing or that I cannot see the bottom. I have never learned how to swim and that doesn't help. Maybe some day.
As a twenty-something I was in a bad marriage. The next to the last night was the last straw. It took a very imaginative strategy that involved some deception of several people but I had to escape and I hoped that at some point they would forgive me. I packed a couple of bags, got a ride to the bus station and waited for the bus. Someone however gave me away. It took two police officers and a bus driver who waited to get me out of Louisiana and on my way home.
In my late twenties I was involved in an auto accident where a van broadsided the hatchback pinto I was driving. The car was a total loss, but I wasn't hurt too badly.
As a thirty-something I had a vehicle rear end my car, hitting my car so hard it knocked it twenty feet, putting me out of work for several weeks. I had stopped for a red light and the man driving the car that hit me told the officer he thought I was going on and he had to as he had to use the bathroom. Really?
At fifty, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was caught very early, the surgery and treatments not easy, but nowhere near as bad as it could have been.
For most of this time, thoughts of the future were not foremost in my mind. They did sneak in from time to time, but it wasn't until the big 50 that I realized that I had gotten much further than I had thought I would so now what?
I started eating healthier. I quit drinking soda except for the times when I'm not feeling well and the soda will settle my stomach. I started walking (something that I have not done lately but I use the heat as an excuse). I have learned to lean more on my faith and not myself.
But sitting here now, on the day after my 59th birthday I am looking forward. I know that we are not promised tomorrow, which is why I will take this one day at a time. I don't know that I will be able to post every day, there may be days that I'm not able for what ever reason to get online, but I'll attempt to make a note and get it here as quickly as possible.
What does the future hold? I can make guesses, but I won't. I know what I hope for, but who knows if that will come to be? Only God knows and I will wait for His time of revelation. For now, I am one day into the count down to 60 and if Lord willing I make it, I hope that I can count on my friends to help me celebrate big.

Death comes, not only for Dallas, unless we awaken and change..

What a thing to find out upon waking. How do I say good morning after finding out about what happened? Death has struck again, this time in Dallas.

So much is good for me and my family, we all have jobs, family, and friends. We have what we need and some of what we want. We are basically healthy. But our country, what is happening to our country?

It is very difficult to hold back the tears as I look around me, as I read the news reports, as I see us falling apart- no- being pulled apart at the seems.

Why is it that with every passing day we see something worse happening? Where did we leave common sense and sanity? When did we become a nation of so many who blindly follow, who blindly believe and who blindly allow others to convince them to seek out and destroy?

Where, is this madness coming from?

There is good and there is bad among us all. Once upon a time the 'good cop, bad cop" thing was a joke. No longer. Yes, there are bad officers, yes there are those who take advantage of the badge and gun they carry and they should be removed from the force, legally. It is the responsibility of the police department to make sure that their own officers are behaving in the correct and proper manner. When they find that the officers are acting detrimentally, they should be removed, period.

There are officers who are basically good, but due to so much of what is going on in this country may panic and in the thoughts of protecting themselves, shoot. Don't do anything that would create that panic. Do not do anything that would give them any thoughts of justification for physical violence. Respect the uniform, do not fight with or spit upon an officer.

As a people, we have a responsibility to stop and prevent this from happening. What is the best way? To be law abiding citizens. Is that so difficult anymore?

If you are not speeding or driving in a manner that is dangerous to others, as in intoxicated, texting or radically, there should be no reason to stop you. (Not including the roadside checks that happen from time to time.) If you do get stopped, don't immediately assume an attitude. Bad attitudes are an open door to what may come.

Act like a responsible adult in public.Is that really so difficult?

Don't steal, don't break into cars, don't break into homes, don't rob banks, bars, convenience stores don't- don't don't, steal.

Don't kill...anyone.

The list can and does go on and on, we are human, not animals. We should act in a humane, responsible and intelligent manner.

Respect, the uniforms. They put a lot on the line when they put on that uniform. They want to go home to their families just as you do.

I believe that somewhere along the lines we lost a lot of what has made this country great. We turned away from what was important and precious and adopted a way that is wrong. We have allowed others to slowly and methodically take it from us without fully being aware. We have neglected to teach the youth what makes this country and the people great. Now we are reaping the fruits of that negligence. We taught and believed the sayings, if it feels good do it. No one is more important that us and our wants. We have taught the younger to be selfish and arrogant and ignorant. (Yes, that is an in general statement, yes, I realize that there are some who have taught the younger generation but they are out numbered by far.)

What do we do now? How do we stop the insanity that is spreading faster than an attack of locusts or an infectious disease? How, do we stop the killings, the riots, the fear that is rapidly an rabidly spreading? How do we stop the very fabric of this country from being fully torn apart? When, do we learn that our wants singular, are all connected to this country and its people- plural? What one individual does, effects us all. How do we get the masses who follow so blindly to finally open their eyes and see what is going on and that it isn't a racial, religious, sexual matter but a human one, and one we must heal and heal quickly. Before death comes not only for Dallas but for this country.