
CHANGE
It’s bright orange
Out of place
Needs to be scratched,
And popped.
Unease, unsure
Don’t like it,
Kinda frightening,
Palpitations,
Grumpy, crawling
Foreboding…
Nan

CHANGE
It’s bright orange
Out of place
Needs to be scratched,
And popped.
Unease, unsure
Don’t like it,
Kinda frightening,
Palpitations,
Grumpy, crawling
Foreboding…
Nan

along the winding path home.
He wanted for nothing but
stones to kick and maybe a
bone to pick once he arrived.
Being crochety was safe.
He knew it and they knew it,
and at night after supper
he could be found down
in his old soldier’s fox hole.
Balmorhea – The Winter
I wonder what random means here. I just felt like writing today , “at random”–oh, I get it. It’s 12:51 p.m. and I’m still in my mis-matching pjs. And I’m sneezing like you wouldn’t believe. On Mucinex and nosespray. It’s too cold to go outside and get my mail.

I just sent an e-mail to U.F.’s Anthropology Dept to see if a notebook with “Seminole Town Compilations” is mine or UF’s, from 1962. I also called the office of the foot doctor who trims my toenails to see if I could pay my bill over the phone via VISA. They said I don’t owe anything. So far the day’s going well, tho I know I can’t come up with a poem for d’Verse’s Thursday night.
My computer helper is coming tonight and I’m going to ask her to help me print out “How to Use ‘Press This’ on Word Press” from “Hugh’s News and Views.” Since I’m without wheels she stopped at the grocers and got me chocolate milk and Vtamin B-12, which I’m out of. We didn’t get to Hugh’s Views due to another time-consuming job. Maybe I can tackle it myself. If not, you can read it there if it’s news to you, as it was to me. 11:20 p.m. I didn’t mention the television watching I did off and on. Yay for Nancy Pelosi for talking nonstop for 8 hours!
When did an old person ever collect puppets for amusement and magic?
When did an old person get so self-absorbed playing that her son disowned her? (Hope I’m smarter than that when I get old).
When did an old person collect pieces of lightning and pretend they were dog turds? (I should hope not).
When did
an old person ever sneak in the cookie jar and empty it? (Surely not!)
When did an old person pout because it was raining, and sing Rain Rain Go Away?
When did an old person ever hang up their stocking on Christmas Eve? And GET something!
When did an old person ever go chasing rainbows?
When did an old person ever prefer Raggedy Ann to Barbie?
When did an old person avoid looking in the mirror?
When did an old person who wouldn’t look in he mirror say “I’m not old?” SEE? I’m NOT!
| If we live long enough
it’s gonna be rough. Tell-tale signs of age spoken off the cuff betray us and oh how long and how sad will it get to be before…until…we write bad verse and yet don’t hesitate to remember to meditate on what’s gone before, not what lies ahead instead.? Hey nonny nonny, ![]() COmmons.wikimedia.org honey, if it’s not funny why do we laugh at our forget-me-nots? When will we touch base and head for home? Not funny, dammit, unless you’re like me easier to laugh than it is to pee. Ha ha got you there You expected “cry.” I know poor taste when ‘ere I try and will until my looney runs dry. Ouch! Tell me I didn’t write this.…. Nan |
|---|
(Now see, that’s my computer talking back to me. I DID NOT TYPE THAT LINE!)
I’m going to start over with MY CURRENT WORDS! — 11/27/2017
I’ve been told I have a warped [unkind?] sense of humor. Because my daughters didn’t report on how my ex’s memorial service went, I decided it was so horrible they didn’t want me to know, to “protect” me. So I sat down and to prove I COULD take any kind of bad news, I gave an example of what might have happened and that I wasn’t wiped out by it. I wrote an e-mail that said,
“Let’s see what happened: Seven Quakers showed up. Bob came and stood up and told his father off for everything bad and then walked out. Ann left in tears. Jill and Alice stayed. The widow Beth and two of her relatives attended. You never told Polly Evarts about the service but she found out and was there. She tried to be supportive to Jill but Jill was too shy and crying too much to talk to her. Bob snarled when he spoke to you and his plane came and returned to Cinn. 8 hours later. He stayed in a motel. He would not allow my name to be mentioned, or if one tried he said “La la l a la.” There was a “wake” consisting of iced tea and brownies. Beth brought my ex’s favorite pet and tried to get someone to adopt him. My daughters went home and decided it would upset me too much to know the truth so they put off reporting on the service, trying to distract me with thoughts of Molly’s birthday. End of story except when I had two weekends of “intestinal upset” I am still working on cleaning up.
_________________
That earned me a phone call reaming me out (what I had left in me) and telling me what a disgusting, destructive, horrible, inappropriate e-mail that was, why did I do it, and not to go writing letters to ANYONE (assuming my mind had suddenly either failed or been posessed by the devil). I was chastened but then the more I thought about it the less ashamed I felt. By now I’m into thinking it’s funny again. (Names were fictitious only in this posting).
_________________
Some time ago I re-published someone’s dark joke on my RELIEF/REFRESHING page:
After stopping for drinks at an illegal bar, a Zimbabwean bus driver found that the 20 mental patients he was supposed to be transporting from Harare to Bulawayo had escaped. Not wanting to admit his incompetence, the driver went to a nearby bus stop and offered everyone waiting there a free ride. He then delivered the passengers to the mental hospital, telling the staff that the patients were very excitable and prone to bizarre fantasies. The deception wasn’t discovered for 3 days. (From the 2004 Darwin Awards?)
________________
Making fun of OLD AGE is something many of us don’t approve of but do it anyway (at times). Last week I got a “Happy Thanksgiving” e-mail and I thought sorrowfully that my friend’s mind was going, that she didn’t know Thanksgiving was a week away? Then I took my garbage out and saw the entire parking lot for my condo was empty, and there was no traffic on the roads. (Really, I had gone out to also put a letter in the mail box). Since I didn’t have anything to eat in my condo but out of date cans, I called Bob Evans to order a take-out of their beef vegetable soup. No deal, only Thanksgiving specials. So I grabbed my purse and a book to read and headed out to Wendy’s. As son as I clicked he door behind me I realized I had left my keys inside. I had no cell phone with me, I had not dressed warmly enough, there was no one in the building, even my car key was inside the condo. Boy did I feel cold and sorry for myself. Then it occurred to me that I had never used my small 4×8 patio’s door and it was worth a try so voila, I gave thanks to my guardian angel. Then Wendy’s was closed, as was McDonald’s (can you believe it? I couldn’t). So I ended up savoring what Speedway had to offer for Thanksgiving dinner. But I couldn’t read my book, so I brought my bag of holiday cheer home and finished my book at home. Home for the holiday.
_________________
Speaking of death (I know we weren’t), there’s the old story that goes like this:
I used to be shy, even an Avoidant Personality, I think. Recently I’ve become one of those people who talk to strangers in public. (“Those shoes look comfortable.Where did you get them?”) This afternoon while napping I had a long dream in which I talked to many strangers, both male and female. When I woke up I was waiting for the right bus and preparing myself to take an abandoned kitten home with me, to a place that I knew wouldn’t be too happy about that.
I know on one level I’m waiting for “Sweet Chariot” to take me home. On another level my tongue is getting looser, maybe an early warning of the “D” word. Then it occurred to me that I have so few followers because I admit I’m over the hill. So I’ve decided to try a much younger avatar. I’ve suspected some of my followers do that, so I thought I’d try. My helper comes Monday night. Look for an avatar change Monday night, if she comes. (She got a bad thumb cut washing dishes. (That’ll show her!)
For some, going around the last bend can be quite disconcerting. It’s natural (and easier) to want to take care of the feelings of the elderly, and so sometimes they are “protected” from the truth. Not telling someone they’e dying has been dealt with definitively, I hope. What I’m talking about is weakening the individual’s hold on reality by ushering them into a world of make-believe. I’m trying to figure out why it is so bothersome. Well, first off it puts the younger person in a one-up position, making decisions for the elderly instead of respecting their ability to withstand the truth. More important, I think, it tends to make the older person into a legitimate paranoid. What is a legitimate paranoid? In my book it’s one who knows some statements are true, but having trouble deciding which are true and which are the “protection.” It kinda turns life into a rotten game, and especially towards the end that is an undesirable state to be in. I guess what it lacks is respect. If you disagree, tell me about it.
If we live long enough
it’s gonna be rough.
Tell-tale signs of age
spoken off the cuff
betray us and oh
how long and how sad
will it get to be
before…until…we
write bad verse and
yet don’t hesitate
to remember to
meditate on what’s
gone before and what
lies ahead instead.
Hey nonny nonny,
honey, if it’s not funny
why do we laugh at
our forget-me-nots?
When will we touch base
and head for home?
Not funny, dammit,
unless you’re like me
Easier to laugh
than it is to pee.
Ha ha got you there
You expected “cry.”
I know poor taste
when ‘ere I try
and will until my
looney runs dry.
Ouch! Tell me I
didn’t write this…
Nan
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