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Showing posts from October, 2020

SS #105: The Photograph

 Feeling nostalgic but simultaneously in too much pain to write anything special for Halloween. It's my favorite holiday. Next year, we're decorating! My dad and I shared a love for the holiday. My earliest memories are of him carefully sculpting items for the haunted house. His makeup and costume (a witch) scared the shit out of me when I was 6 and walking through that house. When he came out to comfort me, I realized that maybe dad and I were magical. Or spooky things that wear normal people suits during the other 364 days of the year. I couldn't find any of my Halloween themed writings with my dad, but I did find this "bonding" tidbit on my old blog. It dates back to 2008. ★•☆•☆• REPRINT •☆•☆•★ SS #105: The Photograph  The merry ladies in charge of Sunday Scribblings have come up with a picture-prefect theme. I am an avid amateur photographer. I have a plethora of macro work ranging from delicate flower heads to moths. I have several grand vistas from variou

"Sweet Halloween Dreams" by begemott

 Looking to get your spook on today? I'm more than happy to promote one of my favorite artists, though he seems a bit inactive now.   ★•☆•☆• REPRINT •☆•☆•★ Bemused Muse, 28 January 2012 The picture is titled " Sweet Halloween Dreams " and the artist can be found at . This print is available for purchase. A 20x24 is $28.79 currently. Other sizes are priced as low as $4.79. ★•☆•☆• REPRINT •☆•☆•★

Don't Quit - Edgar Albert Guest

I've been meaning to blog about Edgar Albert Guest . Pain sort of kicked my ass and kept me from writing anything worthwhile. How ironic that I use his poem as coping mechanism tonight. I'll leave his words here and return later to offer my appreciation of his life and lessons. Don’t Quit By Edgar Albert Guest When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and the debts are high, And you want to smile, but you have to sigh, When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest, if you must, but don’t you quit. Life is queer with its twists and turns, As every one of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about, When he might have won had he stuck it out; Don’t give up though the pace seems slow- You may succeed with another blow. Often the goal is nearer than, It seems to a faint and faltering man, Often the struggler has given up, When he might have captured the victor’s cup, And he learned too late when the nig

Freezing my arse off

  Walkies this morning? No. Not at this juncture of time. I'm freezing my ass off indoors . My metabolism crapped out around 4AM. Shivering myself awake isn't unusual for me in Fall and Spring. Controlling the environment in your home during this these times is hit-and-miss. It's especially difficult for three people to agree on how to best do the furnace/AC dance. I'm nearly incapable of internally regulating my body temperature so I rely upon the environment and clothing (or lack of it) to get by. Thank you, thyroid cancer. I beat you a long while ago but the effects still linger. A fellow cancer patient once told me that I'm lucky. "Thyroid cancer is so easy to cure!"  Technically, it is: Most thyroid cancers are very curable. In fact, the most common types of thyroid cancer (papillary and follicular thyroid cancer) are the most curable. In younger patients, less than 50 years of age, both papillary and follicular cancers have a more than 98% cure rate

World Food Day

World Food Day "The COVID-19 pandemic changed everything – including what and how we eat. Some people faced long lines at supermarkets, others couldn’t buy food at all. Favorite restaurants were shut down. With street and food markets closed, many producers couldn’t sell their produce. Countless family meals were missed, and millions have been pushed into hunger.  Throughout all of this, farmers and food workers, were the true heroes, toiling on the front lines in fields and factories to provide food. But all too often they worked in dangerous conditions for poverty pay, especially women – despite giant food companies making millions in profits.  The pandemic showed how we’re all connected, and how no one’s safe until we’re all safe. This World Food Day – October 16 – take a moment to share your gratitude for the food you eat and the people who produce it. Together we can build a world where everyone has enough to eat and can work and live in dignity." - 

Sweater Weather Dead Threads

I suppose sniffing leaves on a crisp Autumn morning is the dog equivalent to a cup of coffee? If so, Hershey polished off an entire pot within the first five minutes of our walk. Notice the camouflage sweater? We used it for the first time! It was the only thing available in his size. I wanted a nice flannel jacket, or maybe something extra fleecey. Alas, that requires a trip to Robinson. Hershey doesn't hate the sweater. It fits well enough to avoid catching pee, though I really don't think it does anything to stave off the cold. I was pleasantly surprised when he  patiently stood still as I stuffed his front legs and head into it. Likewise, he trotted around the deck to indicate that he wanted it off, but he didn't struggle when I removed it. Once was fair game.   SNATCH!   I wasn't about to chase Hershey around. Like a dog possessed, he throttled all over the yard with that knitted prey in his mouth. Zoomies! He finally killed it by aggressively shaking the

New fence panel up

  Twenty years ago, BH and I could have slapped this fence up and painted it  during the course of one weekend. It's taken us over a year. There's still a small section to measure and cut. I'll need to paint as fast as possible since the temps have dropped. Age and disability are overcome through pure determination.  That determination left me with epic back pain this morning. I'm such a doofus sometimes. But we're almost done with that fence! Almost!

Ramblings about depression

    This is the tail-end of Mental Illness Awareness Week (Oct 4-10). It's likely been overlooked due to the upcoming elections and the White House #COVID19 situation. 2020 has been brutal so far - physically and mentally. Americans are depressed, frightened, and feeling hopeless. Depression. It happens to everyone. I'm in a slump currently, and my tools to combat it are partially to blame.  I "nest", as Better Half likes to say. I celebrate the arrival of each season and welcome it with tacky knickknacks. More so, my sense of house pride motivates me to repair, decorate, and plan for the future. That coping tactic is absolutely fettered at the moment by my mother.  Of course, I can't blog about my depression and frustrations without an image to add to it. It can't be any image. It has to have a punch to it. Off I go to find one that conveys how I feel.         If anything will cure your depression or cause suicide, it's a Google image search.           

A bit of nature

Life is "meh". I'm stalled in my efforts to clear out the office; my mother claims she's too tired to file. Alright, I have to give her that one. She's 85 and feels like crap more often. Still, I can't progress until she tackles the large piles of papers "to be filed". Prescription instructions from Walgreens. Grocery receipts from 2019. Junk mail from Publisher's Clearinghouse, medical records. It feels like I'll never see the room organized and painted. Appreciating the season change helps to combat my depression. My phone is filled with pictures of Autumn foliage along the highway. I also have a collection from closer to home. Behold the Impatient that transplanted itself and refuses to die. I'd like to get this into a pot and take it indoors. The sweet potato experiment has resulted in a single bloom. It's pretty.     The Dogwood is doing well.     Schmedly really needs to be sealed.     And here we have some overcast on a bluster

Walk cancelled on account of weather.

It was fairly warm yesterday. We dropped Dad's clothes off at Urban Mission before heading uptown to munch some Breakfast Club grub*.  By evening, however, it had become a broody, chilly mess. Perfect for a dog walk! Better Half joined Hershey and me, and we brought Gus along for good measure. Hershey is so accustomed to brisk walks that he all but dragged his daddy down the alley. Better Half kept up, so all was well. Until we were almost at the end of the second alley.  The weather advisory gave a low chance of rain. Tiny drops weren't unexpected but, within minutes, the rain began to pelt us. We hit the end and turned towards home early, laughing our asses off. Of course, we're both disabled so any neighbor poking their nose out their back doors would wonder why Frankenstein's Monster and Igor were running in the alley. My dogs aren't too wussy but Angus had clearly had enough. He refused to budge. Miserable, soaked through, and clearly not pleased with the situ