Esther says, It’s Thursday and our new five-word challenge is here. Last week, she wanted to know about our MONEY. This week, she wants to know what we think about RULES. So can we tell a story in five words, using the word RULES in it somewhere?
As a baby boomer in my youth, I pushed the rules and advocated for a new norm because it was in my nature to be contrary but unfortunately us baby boomers got lazy, distracted …. complacent and things are a frigging mess. Looking at our world today, I’m hopeful that the millennial’s advocate hard for a new norm as well because to quote George Carlin, “The planet will be fine but the human race is fucked.” We are. Change requires us adhering to different rules, not clinging to what no longer works. Look around us, glaciers are melting, the air is difficult to breathe, plants and animals are dying because of our behavior. COVID-19 has us all in crisis mode. Yes, there are letter-c’s creeping into this entry too, c’s that aren’t cancer but equally as dangerous. Choices aren’t by chance, they’re all around us for to consider and possibly connect. You’re reading my blog and hopefully not by coincidence but that my contemplationconveys information for you beyond culinary consumption.
“You can spend all day trying to think of some universal truth to set down on paper, and some poets try that. Shakespeare knew that it’s much easier to string together some words beginning with the same letter.” ― Mark Forsyth
“And they always slept better with blades beneath their beds.”- Cinda Williams Chima
“Billions of bilious blue blistering barnacles!”― Hergé
Or is the counterpoint true.
“Alliteration seems to offend people.” ― Dean Koontz
Is it true that only poet’s enjoy alliteration? I’m inclined to think we have a stronger awareness than some writers or readers but I’m open to discussion my fellow bloggers. Is alliteration enjoyable or offensive?
Well, if I haven’t convulsed , chafed or crossed you with all the c’s let me give you Alice Cooper’s Caffeine…. Coffee the nectar of the Gods 🙂 ahhhh
“Welcome to my nightmare
I think you’re gonna like it
I think you’re gonna feel you belong.
A nocturnal vacation, unnecessary sedation,
You want to feel at home ’cause you belong
Welcome to my nightmare whoa, ho, ho, ho
Welcome to my breakdown
I hope I didn’t scare you
That’s just the way we are when we come down
We sweat and laugh and scream here
‘Cause life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home, here
Yeah, welcome to my nightmare yeah, hey, hey, hey
Welcome to my nightmare
I think you’re gonna like it
I think you’re gonna feel you belong
We sweat and laugh and scream here
‘Cause life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home, here
Welcome to my nightmare
Hoo, hoo, woo, hoo
Welcome to my breakdown
Yeah
It’s just a peachy day, I’m trying to rob Peter to pay Paul again. Cash flow as an insurance agent during this COVID crap is challenging. People are hesitant to spend money because of their own financial insecurity, which I totally get but that also impacts our financial security. Mortgage companies want to be paid regardless. Some companies are a bit more accommodating but ours isn’t. I’m in the mindset now, just give them the fucking house. Stress is the last thing I need with cancer looming over me. My husband is trying, truly he is but the reality check is this house is too expensive with this fucked up economy. It has been for a while but I was scared to make changes. Now, I just want the weight of the world gone and I’m reminded of a conversation with my grandpa. I had made a snarky remark about his camp… He said, looks don’t matter girlie, I have everything I need because I have love. We have love just not the money to fix the house so we sell at a price to cover the mortgage. Grandpa was right, looks out on the outside are very deceiving. All the pretty houses on the outside have skeletons and they cost a lot more than my shack. Grandpa said some day I would know what he meant and everything else will eventually come together. I know there are many people like us struggling to meet their expenses so we’re at least in good company.
Which brings me to my song choice today, one I actually heard on Free Fallin’s blog but it feels perfect. Here’s the link if you want to read her response about Dorothy’s Ain’t Our Time to Die. Thank you for highlighting this song, I wasn’t familiar with this artist or song. I’ve added her to my playlist.
“I’ve been obsessed
Seducing your mind
With all my inner demons
To prove that I’m fine
You’ve got to believe, baby (you’ve got to believe)
You’ve got to believe, (you’ve got to believe) baby
You’ve got to believe, baby (you’ve got to believe)
You’ve got to believe me, baby (you’ve got to believe)
It ain’t our time to die, oh whoa
It ain’t our time to die, ah ah
I talk to myself, ah ha
And it always sounds sweet
Ah, gaught up in the violence
It’s no good
And it rapes everything, oh
You’ve got to believe, baby (you’ve got to believe) yeah yeah
You’ve got to believe, (you’ve got to believe) baby
(You’ve got to believe)
You’ve got to believe me, baby (you’ve got to believe) oh oh
You’ve got to believe, (you’ve got to believe) baby
It ain’t our time to die
‘Cause when a heart
Gets warmer with wine, hm
Got mountains to move
So this better be, the last time
I’ve been bitter and angry, yeah
Can’t be like everyone else
So I hang on, hang on, to the bottom
‘Cause I go down, I go down by myself, no
You’ve got to believe, baby (you’ve got to believe)
You’ve got to believe, (you’ve got to believe) baby
You’ve got to believe me baby, (you’ve got to believe) yeah
You can believe me, baby (you’ve got to believe)
It ain’t our time to die, oh whoa
It ain’t our time to die, -ie
It ain’t our time to die
No, it ain’t our time to die, ah ah ah
You’ve got to believe me baby, oh
It ain’t our time to die, oh ho
You’ve got to believe me baby, oh oh yeah
You’ve gotta believe me, mm hm”
No it ain’t my time either. I have a lot to accomplish yet. I’ve got mountains to move. So what if living in my stone fortress isn’t in the cards any longer. I’ve enjoyed 16 years living here but now my situation comes down to the quote I saw about the three c’s. I believe that was on Enlightenedmind622’s blog. Yes, I do read my fellow blogger’s post. Choice, chance and change. Everywhere I look the signs are clear. C’s seem to be ruling my life. I’m not like everyone else. I’m just me, blessed to love and to be loved. Vic and I can be together anywhere.
if you want anything in life to change.” ~ Unknown
Writer’s Connection:
Tonight’s our Wednesday night Critique group. I’m looking forward to hearing my fellow writers work but , yeah there’s always a but… Marcus and Victor both have work obligations so they’ll be missing in action. They bring an energy to the group that I can’t.
Culinary and Cancer tools:
I made a pasta dish with mushrooms, tomatoes, clams, kale and summer squash. It’s very tasty but unfortunately it gave the hubby and I both heart burn. I’m not sure what set that off because we’ve had it before. I didn’t put anything in we haven’t eaten before. So I’m inclined to think it’s triggered by stress more than the ingredients. Oh well, thank goodness for Prilosec. That helped.
Let me give you a couple more cancer fighting tools for your arsenal.
Mangoes are anti-inflammatory as well as being an antioxidant. The author of Cancer Fighting Kitchen says mango extract may help keep healthy cells from turning cancerous. That’s a score.
Maple Syrup, especially the grade A, dark amber is an antioxidant but did you know it allegedly helps with DNA repair. I didn’t know maple syrup was high in zinc either, did you. Another healthy bonus.
Cancer Fighting Kitchen by Rebecca Katz and Mat Edelson.
PS. I don’t work for them, I was given the book and have found many good recipes in addition to some great cancer fighting information that I’m sharing with you.
It’s hard to believe two months have passed since the doctor said malignant cells. I did learn the location of the malignant cells are not in my pancreas but in my bile duct. The MRI confirmed no mass yet. Phew! You know the old adage but things moving slower than molasses. Well, not exactly… I know the first oncologist I didn’t like. I haven’t met the second one yet but that is in the works. I do have three more diagnostics coming up in two and a half weeks so I do need to get the second doctor in place because it will matter who has privity to my results going forward.
“Time passes way too slow when you’re waiting for the unknown” ~ Donna Van Liere
Have you really thought about all the things in life we actually wait for without thinking… like the rain to stop, the sun to rise or set, meals, traffic, airlines, grocery lines. Nor should we forget the bigger things like waiting to grow up, to marry, to divorce,…. to die. We’re accustomed to waiting. Sometimes we do it well and others not so well. Me, I’m an impatient creature, always have been. You would chuckle if you knew how many times in my life I’ve been told patience is a virtue. I’m not virtuous :).
Authors Connection:
Steering the Craft by Ursula Le Guin had an exercise in the chapter I was reading that I found interesting to try. She asked that the reader write a paragraph of narrative approximately 150 words. That’s not hard but the rest of the instructions changed the complexity of the exercise. Every sentence has to have a noun and verb but it can only be six or seven words long. Talk about choppy communication. Yuck! The next part of the exercise was more challenging for me. It required writing one sentence that is the same amount of words as the first part of the instructions. I felt like I couldn’t breathe reading it out loud. Initially, I found myself writing short words in the short sentences and longer words in the longer sentence. I did this unconsciously.
Her point was short sentences don’t need short words nor do long sentences need long words. They each serve a purpose in writing because every sentence has a rhythm, which is also a part of the rhythm of the whole piece. Short sentences can be effective in the right place. Nor should a writer fall for the myth that short sentences are more like how we speak. Longer sentences offer complex syntax that sets up the pacing. Is there one ideal length? No, there’s not. It’s important to have variety and purpose for each length.
I enjoy doing the exercises offered whenever I read a how to book because I feel it enhances my reading comprehension and retention. Anyway, it was a fun exercise because it helped me look closer at my sentences in my vignettes. Yes, old dogs can learn new tricks.
I signed up for this thing I get everyday in my email called Wordnik and it presents a new word everyday with the meaning, and examples of how it is used. Today’s word is privity and I’ve cut and paste so you can see what actually comes in the email.
5. noun Private knowledge; joint knowledge with another of a private concern, which is often supposed to imply consent or concurrence. from The Century Dictionary.
For example, a bailbondsman who acts as a bounty hunter vis a client who skipped jail is not considered a state actor and is not subject any of the provisions of constitutional criminal procedure that would otherwise apply, nor is someone working for a bounty to apprehend a criminal at large with whom the bounty hunter is not in privity, nor it the repo man (even if acting pursuant to a court order obtained in advance authorizing the seizure). The Volokh Conspiracy » Where’s the State Action in Tort Awards Based on Speech?
Metro PCS argued that there was no evidence that the handsets it reflashed were from people in privity with Virgin, rather than from people who’d already bought the handsets on the secondary market. Flash forward: cellphone lawsuit continues
As for privity, the court found that Florida law was a “moving target,” filled with inconsistencies, and there’s no settled rule for whether privity is required to recover economic losses for breach of express warranty. Archive 2009-10-01
The first important idea was the notion of privity, which meant that you only could sue someone who directly affected you. Markets and Majorities
Often has the serpent lain hid beneath the coloured grass, under a beauliful aspect, and often has the evil inclination affected a sale without the husband’s privity. Anatomy of Melancholy
He accused her of intentional privity as to a secret which it behooved him to know, and of being a party to that secrecy. The Duke’s Children
So for the present a breach was made between Master Jeremy and myself, which to me seemed no great loss, inasmuch as it relieved me from any privity to his dealings, for which I had small liking. Lorna Doone
But I gave him clearly to understand that he was not to be vexed with me, neither to regard me as in any way dishonest, if I should use for my own purpose, or for the benefit of my friends, any part of the knowledge and privity thus enforced upon me. Lorna Doone
But this acknowledgment was made without the privity of his wife, whose vicious aversion he was obliged, in appearance, to adopt. The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle
The word ‘privity’ comes from an Old French word meaning ‘intimacy’.
I am always looking for different words to use and thus far the word choices have been interesting. I even used privity in this entry today. ”
My song choice for today is Draggin the Line by Tommy James. There’s something to be said for peace of mind. We all give and take every day, sometimes we sacrifice the good times to just get by. Vic and I have been doing that a lot lately like a lot of other people. Money is extemely tight and our struggle is real, having fun with that weight hanging over us is difficult… actually impossible. I know it weighs heavily on Vic. But for me, I’m just grateful to have every day with my family and friends. I count those blessings every moment with this dang letter c looming. I can’t think about going out and having fun right now. I’m thinking about time… how much do I really have but then I scold myself because any one of us could die tomorrow. Life is what it is.
I am working on the virtual blogging challenge in WDC, the distraction is good for me. I’ve been compiling all the location information and putting an itinerary together is interesting and I’m looking forward to doing it with everyone.
Making a living the old, hard way.
Taking and giving my day by day.
I dig the snow and the rain and the bright sunshine.
I’m draggin’ the line (draggin’ the line).
My dog Sam eats purple flowers.
We ain’t got much, but what we’ve got’s ours.
We dig snow and the rain and the bright sunshine.
Draggin’ the line (draggin the line).
I feel fine.
I’m talking about peace of mind.
I’m gonna take my time.
I’m getting to good times.
Draggin’ the line (draggin the line).
Loving a free and feeling spirit.
Hugging a tree when you get near it.
Digging the snow and the rain and the bright sunshine.
I’m draggin’ the line (draggin the line).
Draggin’ the line (draggin’ the line).
I feel fine.
I’m talking about peace of mind.
I’m gonna take my time.
I’m getting to good times.
Draggin’ the line (draggin the line).
A movie/film that scared me was the Exorcist. I saw it at the drive-in with my date for the evening. He brought me back to the trailer where I resided alone. Every sound outside seemed intensified as I tried to sleep. I couldn’t/ didn’t sleep. The movie seemed to be on replay over and over because at the time I was personally questioning my own faith as many sixteen year olds do.
I thought the characters gave an exceptional performance especially Linda Blair as Regan. It was novel at the time to see everything through the protagonist’s eyes. To me it felt like we were even closer seeing it that way.
I didn’t know at the time,the movie was based on a novel by William Peter Blatty, who had in turn based his novel on a real-life exorcism in 1949 of a boy (‘Roland Doe’, about fourteen years old at the time) who allegedly was possessed of a demon. I wasn’t familiar with exorcisms until after I had seen the movie and then read the book. I was fascinated and terrified that it could happen. If you’re curious, this is a really good analysis of the movie.
I find the music comforting now even though the movie upset me watching it. When I began writing about the darker times in my life this soundtrack was helpful for my muse.
Do you ever think about the things you’re grateful for? I made a mental list this morning while lying in bed with my boys, Macavity and Yeatsie and my hubby. It’s not very often that Macavity lets Yeatise join us on the bed. He’s a stinker.
I’m grateful:
for a house to clean because I have a place to live.
for laundry to do because I have clothes to wear
for dirty dishes because I had food to eat
for the crumbs on the floor because we enjoyed our food together
for toilets to clean because we’re blessed with indoor plumbing.
for a phone because I can talk with my family and friends whenever.
for the cat hair floating in the air because I have fur babies to snuggle.
for aches and pains because I’m reminded I worked hard today.
for the music that fills my world with memories, and joy.
for today, because opportunity awaits. I’m walking a path of my own choosing and no one’s approval is needed.
Which reminds me of a song I hadn’t heard in some time. I was looking for Fabares’s song Picnic and this song followed after in the youtube feed. I chuckled because I too thought I’d sing and dance forever as I lived my life as I chose. Blissful ignorance.
Once upon a time there was a tavern
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours
And think of all the great things we would do
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
Then the busy years went rushing by us
We lost our starry notions on the way
If by chance I’d see you in the tavern
We’d smile at one another and we’d say
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
Just tonight I stood before the tavern
Nothing seemed the way it used to be
In the glass I saw a strange reflection
Was that lonely woman really me
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
la la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
Through the door there came familiar laughter
I saw your face and heard you call my name
Oh my friend we’re older but no wiser
For in our hearts the dreams are still the same
Those were the days my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose
Those were the days, oh yes those were the days
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
La la la la La la la la la la
Then we get a reality check. Work takes up more time than there are hours on the clock especially in today’s world where so much is being done virtually. Employers want you working every breathing second. There’s no such thing as a 9-5 schedule. The only escape is too shut the electronics off but as soon as you turn them back on… the to-do list grows.
Authors Connection:
Last night in our Sunday night short story discussion about Dahl’s Parson’s Pleasure. The story reminded me of my grandfather Jonah. He disliked parsons immensely. As far as he was concerned religious men were evil, it didn’t matter what their faith as because they would steal every cent a man made. In Parson’s Pleasure the man dressed as a parson to get into people’s homes so he could see what furniture they owned because he sold antiques. He didn’t disclose that part. He conned them as cheaply as he could of their heirlooms. The con game backfired in the end because in the story he wove with the three man at the farmhouse about a buffet was that the only valuable part was the feet. He got them to accept his offer and was on his way to get his car. He was chuckling to himself about all the money he was going to make on this priceless heirloom. What he didn’t account for was the farmer’s helpfulness. The farmer decided to make it easier for him to transport the piece by cutting the legs off because that’s the section of the furniture the parson really valued. The rest he chopped into firewood so it would be easier for him to transport since the parson indicated the poor quality of the buffet meant it was better used for firewood. The con man got what he deserved.
My grandfather would have laughed his ass off reading this amusing story from 1958. We were talking about Dahl’s work being in Esquire and Playboy when I shared my experience with Playboy. ( I have it written in a word document just haven’t pieced it in my vignettes yet but I’ll give you a quick summation.)
My grandfather lived in a primitive camp in Vermont. His water came from a spring above the camp on the hill. He ran pvc pipe down to a trough in the kitchen where it filled continuously and drained into a sink. He had trout living in the trough to keep it clean of algae. He put a toilet inside for nighttime use only because it was a bit of a trek to the outhouse. There wasn’t running water so it involved filling a bucket to empty to clear the waste matter that went initially back into the ground until my father put a septic tank in for him. My grandfather complained that it was a waste of money because he always did his number two business at work everyday. Like I said it was a primitive existence.
In the summer, we ( my siblings and me) stayed with my grandfather. We always used the outhouse because Grandpa made it quite clear the inside facility was for nighttime use only. We swam everyday so bathing wasn’t a priority but when it was we heated water on a stove and curtained the kitchen off so we could do the essentials by the huge sink and trough.
My grandfather lived alone all of my life and had some peculiarities that initially, I didn’t notice. The summer I became aware of them was just before I turned ten. A lot had happened to me prior to going to stay with him in the summer that I’m not going into at this time.
My grandfather never painted his walls, they were covered from ceiling to floor with Playboy centerfolds in the four rooms that made his home. I was very aware of the women’s exposed naked bodies. When my grandfather had left for work I got out our coloring supplies and encouraged my siblings to help me dress all the naked women. We covered every exposed breast, butt or vagina. We’re were so proud of our decorative clothing.
My grandfather on the other hand was furious. He ripped the pictures off the wall, cursing up a storm. My siblings and I quickly disappeared to the tent where we slept at night with some snacks because it didn’t look like dinner was an option.
Needless to say, we stayed out of his sight as much as possible to avoid another outburst.
It was an uncomfortable month until my mother arrived at the end of August to take us back to Connecticut. Sadly, we were grounded for destroying our grandfather’s art collection.
Art in one person’s eye can be devastating to another. For me at 10 years old, all it signified was a girl’s body didn’t really belong to her. Everything was about making boys happy regardless of how humiliating and painful it was. I was cursed to be a girl.
Thankfully, when arrived the next summer there were only pictures hanging in his bedroom. My mother promised we wouldn’t enter his personal space.
Sadly, my grandfather wasn’t one of the people that would say they read Playboy for the stories from authors like Dahl, Oates, Kerouac, Atwood, Le Guin, Fleming and Bradbury. His interest was sheer exploitation of the women.
“The occupational hazard of being a Playboy Bunny is the aching facial muscles brought on by obligatory smiles.” ― Germaine Greer, The Female Eunuch
Culinary:
I’m going to enjoy something light for dinner this evening. We have some potato salad left and I think with that I’m going to toss a tossed salad together to go with it with some homemade biscuits. Hmm… rosemary, oregano and chives fresh picked added to some butter. Now, we’re talking., yummy.
Let’s add a couple more things to our cancer tool kit while we’re on the topic of food.
Lemons and limes are antimicrobial as well as being anti-inflammatory. I don’t know about you but I love drinking water with either slices of lemon or lime on a hot day. I happen to have both in my fridge.
“When life gives you lemons, say cool, what else you got?” ― Carmen in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants
I think on that note I’m going to make myself a glass with lemon and read for awhile. I haven’t finished the exercises in Le Guin’s Steering the Craft and I need to refresh my mind and get them done. Write… write… and write some more.
Jim says, “This week we have the food and cooking and eating related prompts of Baking/Bread/Cake/Pie/Picnic and hopefully this will fit for everyone. ”
I read a few of the responses posted before mine, Cherry Pie, Bread Fan, I Like Pie, I like Cake, Someone Left the Cake Out in the Rain… all excellent choices. I decided to go with the feeling I remember when going on picnics, although I do discuss our favorite picnic foods. At my age, I’ve been on a quite a few. The best memories are with John, Chris, and Amanda, (my children) but I do have some special picnic date memories tucked away that reminded me of the song I chose by Fabares. Maybe in another post, I’ll discuss some of those memories.
Michele Ann Marie “Shelley” Fabares (born January 19, 1944) is an American actress and singer. In 1962 Fabares’ recording of “Johnny Angel” reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 which was on the self titled album Shelley and the song Picnic joined the collection of songs included.
On a picnic morning without a warning
I looked at you and somehow I knew
On a day for singing,
My heart went winging
A picnic grove was our rendezvous
You and I in the sunshine
We strolled the fields amd farms
At the last light of evening,
I held you in my arms
So when days grow stormy
And lonely for me
I just recall picnic time and you.
written by George W. Duning
“Picnic Lyrics.” Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 19 Jul 2020. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/31093464/Shelley+Fabares>.
“Fabare’s teen-idol status came with her coming-of-age role as the ever-wholesome daughter “Mary Stone” on The Donna Reed Show (1958), a part she played for five seasons before embarking on a more grown-up film career. During the run of the classic sitcom, she and TV “brother” Paul Petersen grew so popular that they sprinted to adjoining pop singing celebrity, although both admitted that their vocal talents were limited. Shelley especially enjoyed a #1 Billboard hit with the breathy, sultry-edged “Johnny Angel”. The character of “Mary Stone” was gently phased out of the show as her character “left for college”.
By this time, Shelley had turned into quite a curvaceous stunner. Her acting mettle hardly tested, she managed to become part of the bikini-clad blonde set with top femme parts in such fun-and-frolic fare as Ride the Wild Surf (1964), Hold On! (1966), which was a vehicle for British singing sensation Peter Noone of Herman’s Hermits, and three of Elvis Presley‘s less-acclaimed vehicles of the later 1960s: Girl Happy (1965), Spinout (1966) and Clambake (1967).
A serious Vietnam-era stream of consciousness began to pervade film audiences in the late 1960s and Shelley’s perky innocence that found so much favor during the Camelot years had lost its appeal. After a notoriously dry spell, she bounced back as the altruistic wife of a dying footballer “Brian Piccolo” in Brian’s Song (1971), opposite James Caan, and settled comfortably again on the small screen with bright co-star roles on the series The Brian Keith Show (1972), The Practice (1976), and Highcliffe Manor (1979). A more prickly character than usual, however, reared its head in the late-night soap spoof Forever Fernwood (1977), and this led to the equally malicious, vainglorious role of Bonnie Franklin‘s business competitor on the already-established hit sitcom One Day at a Time (1975). The show also featured her aunt Nanette Fabray as Franklin’s meddling mom. In the late 1980s, Shelley found a fleshier character as Craig T. Nelson‘s resourceful mate on Coach (1989), earning steady work for eight seasons and two Emmy nominations in the process. A return to film stardom, however, would eclipse her.” ~ https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001193/bio
As a pre-teen I watched all those bikini-clad movies with Elvis, Fabares, and Gidget. Did you know Sandra Dee, Sally Field, Cindy Carroll, and Deborah Walley each played Gidget. https://groovyhistory.com/the-many-faces-of-gidget
Dick Clark Five is where we tuned in to watch the new and upcoming musicians and the latest dance steps.
This song was shown on a Donna Reed episode while she was on the show before she moved over to the bikini clad movies. At the time, I thought she was so pretty.
Picnic memory from 40 years ago:
Amanda’s first picnic with us was in August, 1980 after I had the radical hysterectomy and before I was to begin the radiation/chemo treatment. Amanda was only two months old, Chris was three and John was five when my children’s father wanted to go up to Wyman Lake because it going to be a really hot day. (August in Maine is usually very warm, I never minded because our summers are so short.)
A little background about Wyman, it was a man-made lake on the Kennebec River in Bingham, Maine. There were houses along the river that were purchased then flooded after the construction began in Bingham, in 1928. It would be the largest dam in the eastern United States, promising far more power than Maine industries alone could consume. The lake was named after Walter Wyman, the electrical engineer who brought the project to its full capability.
The paper companies would use the river to float the logs down the river in carefully constructed channels built along the river. In 1973, the environmentalists finally won the battle to preserve the river’s ecology and forced the paper companies to haul wood by truck. After that bill passed, the towns created designated beach areas with picnic tables and restroom facilities. to better serve the communities. That’s how Wyman Lake became a popular family outing place.
Back to my picnic memory. Like every other picnic outing I would prepare either a potato or macaroni salad, barbecue chicken and make cookies for dessert the night before. I was exhausted but somehow I managed to get it done because there was no cooking allowed at the lake. Carry in, carry out is the norm for Maine’s water areas.
In the morning,we would toss everything into coolers, put the blankets, lawn chairs, a pop-up sunblocker, and the beach toys for the boys all into the car and off we’d go for the day. We arrived at Wyman at 10:00 in the morning so we would have the best location on the beach.
The cool part about Wyman was the shoreline, it’s shallow for quite a ways so the boys could play in the water without me having to worry. (That’s a left over from the log run days.) Amanda was too young to be in the water but she did seem to enjoy being on a blanket by the water while her brothers played and laughed. Maybe their joy was infectious because she stayed awake a lot on her first outing.
We had brought a small transistor radio with us and listened to oldies playing on the radio during our excursion together. The boys danced with me, and tried to sing along with their father and I. We slaughtered a lot of the songs but none of us cared. We were in the moment.
Why I’m reminded of that picnic in particular other than it being the first one for Amanda was because of her first physical interaction with her brother. Chris had broke a piece of his cookie off and offered it to Amanda. Her little fingers grasped his and his face lit up brighter than a harvest moon. I was relieved that Amanda was finally accepted by her brother after the initial rocky start. Neither one of the boys were happy about having a baby in the family, and worse it was a girl.
There’s more background to their resistance of having a sister but I don’t want to go into it today because it had a lot to do with their father. Today, I’m staying with the picnic memory and the joy of the day.
By the time we arrived back home, we had three very tired children who didn’t resist bedtime. This woman collapsed right after they did. The fresh air did wonders because Amanda slept through the night as well, so I was blessed a full night’s sleep.
We were able to enjoy a couple more picnic excursions that August before the letter-c intervened.
I’m feeling today with the temperatures going to be 100 degrees today a potato salad would be perfect, maybe on top of a bed of lettuce.
Thinking about the changes ahead of us today. I wasn’t ready before. I believe I was holding onto the safety of my stone fortress for the wrong reason. The past can’t hurt me anymore so I don’t need the actual stones. I am a strong woman… I’m blessed with a husband and many good friends who remind me when I doubt myself.
A flower demonstrated
life’s small victories
with its unassuming
green slivers on the
I often write poetry when I am mulling or feel like a solution is close but I just can’t put my finger on it. This decision is actually easier once I let myself consider the possibilities like my flower in the poem I wrote. It wouldn’t be painless but then in reality the things we appreciate most aren’t easy or straightforward or even uncomplicated. The conclusion is what makes it worth it.
Cooking:
Today’s cooking indulgence and some more culinary Tools for our continued war with the letter-c. We’re having pasta with fresh basil from the garden and lemon grilled basil chicken. I was surprised how well it fared in the summer heat so I have an abundance of it right now.
I did the third method with pulsing it with oil but I didn’t put it in ice cubes trays. I put tablespoons on a cookie sheet and flash froze it. Tomorrow, or later tonight if I feel ambitious, I’ll toss it into a zip lock bag. That way I’ll always have the exact portion correct.
Cancer toolkit
Fennel is a digestive aid as well as being anti-inflammatory.
Flax Seeds and Chia Seeds are anti-inflammatory. Flax and Chia seeds are high in omega-3 fatty acid which is good for us. I toss both on yogurt, on our salads, and in muffins.
Garlic is anti-inflammatory, antimicrobial and antibacterial. I don’t know about you but I love garlic. I added extra when I made the pesto tonight, it called for two cloves and I used five. 🙂
Stevie Nicks wrote the song Landslide and performed it but my favorite versions were actually by Fleetwood Mac and the Dixie Chicks. I feel this song sums my life in so many ways because I was scared to leave my babies alone with their father especially during his heavy drinking days. I became a buffer so they didn’t get the brunt of his actions.
“Life is beautifully tragic.
Giving it up isn’t the hard part; it’s the living part that everyone struggles with.”
― Allison Blanchard
Once my children had all left home I realized it was now or never. I needed to live the seasons of my own life. I have. At 45, single, in college and learning to be self-sufficient. Some decisions, I made were good and some not so much but that’s life in a nutshell. I needed to try. I needed to find out who Lyn was. Not just be someone’s wife, someone’s mother, or even someone’s friend. I’m still discovering who Lyn is, just when I think I know myself , things happen and I learn something new. At 64, the life lessons are interesting and challenging at times but I know everything will work out. I’m reminded of a quote by Carroll Bryant “No matter how many plans you make or how much in control you are, life is always winging it.”
“I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
‘Til the landslide brought me down
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Mmm
Well, I’ve been ‘fraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m gettin’ older, too
Well, I’ve been ‘fraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m gettin’ older, too
I’m gettin’ older, too
Ah, take my love, take it down
Oh, climb a mountain and turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down
Oh, the landslide will bring it down”
“There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval.”
― George Santayana
I shared two of my vignettes last night in the writing group. They were in the first draft stage. I wasn’t disappointed with the critiques, my fellow writers offered some good suggestions to help clean the writing up. I’m actually pleased to have six thousand words written thus far. That’s not counting my blogs here and on WDC. YAY!
Thank you Melanie for the writing inspiration today.
What song always get you out on the dance floor?
Since I’m 64 years old, my song choices have varied immensely over time. in my youth, I always hit the dance floor for Proud Mary. The lyrics begin with something like we’re going to do something nice and easy but we never do anything nice and easy. It’s going to get rough and hard. (I didn’t go look it up this morning, I’m working on the iPad.) Anyway life is like that, we don’t realize how easy we have it, then life hits with you a reality check. I married and dancing fell aside and the only time I danced was when I was calming my babies down and the majority of times it was John Lennon’s Imagine. After my divorce my go to song was Pavarotti and Dion, I love you then I hate you. Dating someone long distance, trying to work full time and go to college in your fifties is challenging. My present choice is with the letter c looming over me is Perfect with Sheeran and Bocelli because I know how precious love with the right person is.
What’s my favorite sleeping position? I sleep on my left side with my back securely next to Vic with Macavity (my cat 🐈) snuggling against my knees.
If I could snap my fingers and instantly make the world better what would I do. I would penalize anyone who doesn’t follow seven generation sustainability. Our carbon footprint truly matters so we all need to be held accountable.
What’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done? Looking back running away from home and ending up in Harlem in the early 70s when I was 13 wasn’t the wisest thing to do. Nor was hitch hiking from Connecticut to Vermont when I was 15 the safest thing to do. As an adult I’ve done some crazy things but I wasn’t fearful but other people when I shared what I was doing thought it was terrifying. Fear for one person is different for another. The most dangerous thing I’ve ever done in desperation was trying to kill myself with a gun, thank goodness that went awry. I still feel ashamed for feeling that alone….my children and grandchildren didn’t deserve all of that baggage.
Our cancer culinary tool kit addition today is:
Cumin is an appetite stimulus, digestive aid, anti microbial and may reduce tumors in the stomach and cervix.
Dates help regulate blood sugar and help boost our immune system.
Cancer Fighting Kitchen Rebecca Katz and Mat Edelson
My song choice for today is Tina Turner’s Proud Mary. I think the presentation of the song says a lot about life. Yes, it does start off easy and slow. We’re impatient and want everything yesterday without realizing how good we really have it. Then as we age and experience things we realize what we lost. It’s coming in all directions, hard and fast. We need to be in the moment because those moments will disappear 😔
I watered the gardens this morning, discovered another zucchini and lots of cucumber blossoms. Life is good.
Writing accountability is tonight, I need to work on my vignettes.
When I was younger I focused on getting to the weekend but then I got sick and realized how few weekends in life I really had . I learned to make time to smell the roses because life as we know it today offers no guarantees.
I took a much needed mental health break and enjoyed some good music that tied in with the four elements earth, wind, fire and water. I wanted my song choices to be unique. By the looks of the post, I was successful.
Two of our good friends, Jeanne and Pam joined us for a social distance get together. That made for a perfect day, just enjoying girl talk though in all fairness… not one of us is a girly girly type.Truth be known the only time I even fuss with painting my finger nails is when I need to be somewhere’s after working in the garden. Black nail polish is perfect for hiding the crud that you just can’t get out with a nail brush or file. Plus in case you ever run out of nail polish remover brake fluid (One of the bottles you should have in the trunk of your car along with the anti-freeze and a quart of oil and battery cables) will take off nail polish. I was raised old school, if you had a car you had the tools to take care of it. And you had a blanket, and a flashlight in the trunk in case you broke down. Car preparedness 101.
I only thought about the letter c a couple of times today. We talked about the oncologist’s shortcomings for me and what my next step would be. In conversation this evening , my son suggested I reach out to a family member about doing a holistic approach to letter-c. because I am not going to do chemo. I’m not going down that path again if I can avoid it. The medical field has immune-therapy options available and that’s what appeals to me. I’m still getting another opinion because I need to know all the options and to have a doctor that makes me feel valued.
Since we’re on the letter-c let’s get a couple more tools for your culinary cancer regime.
Carrots are anti-inflammatory and rich in Vitamin a. Beta carotene which why they’re a lovely orange is noted for preventing lung, mouth, throat, stomach, intestinal, bladder, prostate, and breast cancer. Sounds like carrots should be daily staple.
Cranberries are anti-inflammatory plus there is something about their compound make that is toxic to cancer cells. That’s a bonus.
Song Choice for today is Norah Jones. We were talking about the vignettes I’m writing and I was sharing details about my going to the prom in a tuxedo. I hated dresses. Remember back in the day, girls weren’t allowed to wear pants or jeans to school. We were sentenced to dresses. Not this rebel, I wore shorts under my dress and when I had the opportunity to buck the system with not wearing a formal dress to the prom I took it. I wore a white tuxedo with a pink cummerbund, while my date wore a black tuxedo with a pink cummerbund. His lapel corsage was pink, whereas mine was black. It looked stunning. When I arrived home my father was looming in the shadows. He insisted on taking our pictures… I could feel the teardrops slipping down. I should have flown away but instead I was again trying to find a balance when I should have run. I simply didn’t understand the confusion… I didn’t come when I should have nor did I leave either.
I waited ’til I saw the sun
I don’t know why I didn’t come
I left you by the house of fun
I don’t know why I didn’t come
I don’t know why I didn’t come
When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand
My heart is drenched in wine
But you’ll be on my mind
Forever
Out across the endless sea
I would die in ecstasy
But I’ll be a bag of bones
Driving down the road alone
My heart is drenched in wine
But you’ll be on my mind
Forever
Something has to make you run
I don’t know why I didn’t come
I feel as empty as a drum
I don’t know why I didn’t come
I don’t know why I didn’t come
Norah Jones was born Geethali Norah Jones Shankar; March 30, 1979). She is an American singer, songwriter and pianist. She has won multiple awards and has sold more than 50 million records worldwide. Billboard named her the top jazz artist of the 2000s decade. She has a such a lovely voice.
Dear Johnnie,
There was four of us today in our masks. Three girls and our masks were blue. Grandpa wore a pink mask and I thought of you. You’re Dad wasn’t thrilled with your pink hair nor your shirt choices. Did you know I made your Mama a pink scarf?
Are you changing all of my gladiolus to baby pink? No peach, no red. All the blooms are baby pink or white. Every time I see them I think of you. I miss you.
Grandpa is playing the Dance… we didn’t know how it would end, I wish we could have missed the pain but hon, I’m so glad we had our precious time together. Love you, Gramma
lyncrain 