When I was young

I absolutely love this…and I’ll add eating those little yellow clover and wondering if they were poisonous, being afraid of sunflowers because they were so tall and they moved with the sun, exercising my face after making a bad face and being told “it will stick that way,” doing the “I must increase my bust” exercise because the Judy Blume book said it would help, wanting a twirly dress – ALWAYS a twirly dress…

Wonder Of My Worlds

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Ode to Hormones

Hormones. hormones, I hate you

You conspire to make me blue.

Your mean treatment is no fair

And look what you did to my hair!

Often you just make me sad

When my life is not that bad

Other times I storm and rage

Typing bad words on the page

Then you make my pants not fit

And I feel like a piece of ****

Ruffles, chocolate, pizza too

Cravings, all because of you

Once a month you torture me

Dancing round my pain with glee

Then you drop so very low

Making me cry “me…” and “woe….”

For about a week you stray

Giving me a happy day.

Then you just return again

Trying hard to steal my grin

Coming at me with your claws….

God, please send me menopause!!

Recycled from the past

Below is a post from a very old blog I started years ago.  It seemed to fit a bit today:

It begins behind the sternum, just below where the ribs meet. Sometimes it is a dull and growing ache; other times it is more like a sucker punch. The heaviness that can steal the breath spreads to both sides of the chest, filling the cavity with a painful hollowness that exaggerates the intensity of the heart’s pounding. Sometimes there is a burning or tingling, sometimes it is a seemingly unbearable pressure. It moves to the throat and neck, tightening them, as the arms become heavy at the sides. It aches, and something within screams and wails in protest.

Have I just described a heart attack? Well, in a manner, yes. But not an attack IN the heart. It is an attack, an ambush, a starvation OF the heart. One that needs its own type of intervention, much different from a call to 911 or the administering of CPR. This disease is sinister. It may lie dormant. It may come without warning. But in its most deadly form, it is always present, always looming, and any relief from its pain is short lived. In some ways, even a moment of relief is welcomed. But then, when the relief wanes, the returning pain is that much more crushing.

I am not sure how long I have suffered from this disease. Like many, I did not immediately recognize the symptoms. They came on slowly and intermittently and gradually grew in intensity. Then I thought I had encountered a miracle. But it was only a false remission….and then my disease slowly overtook me again. There are treatments. There is even a cure. But they are hard to reach, inconvenient, and require consistent and daily attention. And my doctor has lost the prescription pad…..or perhaps it is just hidden inside his desk. I am afraid to ask.

So I feel the ache, struggle to breathe, and die a thousand little deaths. I know the life span of those who continue in this sickness of the heart. Without treatment, the prognosis is negative. So I will endure the disease a little longer. And then I will write the prescription myself.

For I Am Yours, and You Are Mine

An amazing story and amazing young woman


From the day I woke up, I’ve heard a lot of the same things from people responding to the fact that I survived such a major fall in February. “You’re so lucky to be alive,” and “You’re so blessed that you didn’t die that day,” are just a couple of the common phrases I heard coming at me from all sides. I always nodded in agreement and tried to accept as well as I could these things that I knew were meant only to encourage, but I just couldn’t find myself agreeing with them most of the time.

You see even doctors were amazed that I had survived falling so far, and none of them could come up with a good explanation for it. Where others saw a miracle, I often saw instead the possibility of death that I had missed out on.

I don’t want you to think that…

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“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms.”
Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods