Thoughts Across Three Miles…… Whew!

People! People! People!

What creatures of manipulating other people-creatures into states of anxiety, stress. frustration and sometimes generalized angst.  And that is phrasing it mildly.

People who drive their vehicles on  a twenty-five mile per hour street at sixty and sometimes eighty miles per hour, (its math, simple math: when the driver covers a specific number of yards in specific seconds, I know their speed.), with their face down, hand and/ or hands on a phone or tablet, with glow of phone or tablet  coloring their face, for tenths, as in plural tenths, sometimes several tenths of a mile, I find my condition is stressed, anxiety, and occasionally terror, sheer terror.

The terror takes over when I see a child with the neglectful driver. Or an animal in the back of their pick-up or being towed in a horse trailer. Eeek.

That they never see me is another alarm.

Then there are the people who insist on interjecting themselves into my world. Pushing, pushing, pushing.  “I want to see you, now.” or, “I want us to do XY and Z now.” They say.

They say words and words and words about them, what they want, what they got, how much they weigh or don’t weigh. what they or doing or not doing and why they are doing or not doing it. Sometimes their words make them sound like they are quite shallow of personality.

Of no interest or concern to them is how I might feel.  Maybe, I want to be a hermit for a small segment of time. Or what I want. Or when or if I might want it or this or that or XY and Z.

Also of no interest to them,  is me, really, me. Do they know my favourite colour this month? Or my favourite Holiday? Do they know the story behind the real me this last six months or so? Do they know my goals or aspirations? Or my deepest reasoning of complex subjects?

Do they know my ‘non-them’ relationships and my interests or concerns there? Do they know the whats or whys or hows, I contemplate?

Do they sometimes, too frequently, sound like a petulant, pouting, whining, self-absorbed person? Yes to each and all of those.

But. There is that Corinthian admonition: Love never fails. I try to remember that.

Even though all of these people, the ones who text and drive, speed carelessly and dangerously, are the same as the self-absorbed, shallow people who are all about themselves.




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The Mighty Ant Brigade

The mighty ant brigade almost escaped my attention. Small, like sprinkles of black pepper, the ants moved in a tight serpentine line across my porch. I took one giant step over them and continued my pursuit of one of my top ten favourite things to do: harvesting seeds.

This is a relaxing activity. Walking around in idyllic sixty-degree temperatures, peering deeply into foliage for pods of seed, to collect into a opened, empty, clean milk carton and dream of next year’s flowers is a process of hope and peace.  I walked among Marigolds, Cleome, Four O’clocks, and Morning Glories.

Then I saw Moonflower seed pods. What a gasp I took. Opening at night to take their light from the moon, their presence surprised me happy.  These pods look a lot like brown patent leather plums, which was another pleasant surprise. Some species of Moonflower have prickly spines over all the seed pod. Their harvest requires leather gloves. But thankfully, not this species.

In my eager examination of the Moonflower seedpods, I stepped into what must have been the ants’ nest. A stinging at my toes made me look to see my shoes and feet blackened with ants. I brushed. I stamped. I hopped. I brushed some more.

Later, five tiny red specks appeared on my foot where the toes meet the foot.

But the itching and the burning were fierce. An almost overwhelming mental battle began as I determined not to scratch, not even a little. I am extra cautious to care for my feet and I refused to spread the ants’ poison. Treat and ignore were my rules. For two weeks, now, going on three, the bite places have changed for the better, but the sensations have not. Now in week three, the bites are fading and I am hopeful to be victorious and not spread their poison and irritation. I’ve thought often about the mental fortitude needed to fight such a constant battle, while awake or asleep.

The temperatures are cooler now and the ants are not to be seen. I see seeds almost everywhere I look in my flower beds. I am diligent and careful to cover myself in Skin So Soft moisturizing oil for insect reppellant.


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Observations Along My Day

How easy it is to not meet as planned! Let me say at the beginning that this ‘meet’ was not what I wanted on my radar for a couple of weeks or even a month. But there it was on my phones text screen.  Eeeeek. The negotiation for the time and the place over four daytime days

The negotiation for the time and the place stretched over four daytime days. This day or that is better for me. The Beloved Inviting One insisted, ‘Oh no!

‘Oh no! It has got to be that or this, this week!” A lot of messages back and forth for two and maybe a half days.  Then we came to the dilemma of place.  Two more days of this place, not that place, and a lot of: if we do that then I will have to do this.

More eye rolling, mine with many breaths deeply taken.

We got it all set.  The time the place. Whoo-hoo. In less than five minutes, maybe less than a minute, I got a text extraordinaire: “Wait, never mind,  well maybe, maybe not. I may have a. conflicting appointment. I will let you know.”

Days went by one, two, three. No call. No text.  The appointed time approached rapidly.

Hmmmm. So I asked. “What about this XYZ,?” I did not remind about who started it, or the number of texts and messages,

The response startled me to gape-mouthed expression. My eyes are still wide.

“Oh yes, that is on. Didn’t I tell you?” more deep breaths mine. Still not my idea, but ok. I say. “Yes, see you then.” Then I get another message.

“Would it be OK if I bring SuchNSo?” Then an additional message. “SuchNSo is lots of fun and I just adore SuchNSo.”

I’ve met SuchNSo. No fun. The times I have seen SuchNSo without the Beloved Inviting One, SuchNSo has been hateful, to other people, and to me.

I  am laughing. I shake my head side to side. I roll my eyes. I wonder if this how a friend treats a friend?


Any guesses

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As a Believer in Jesus Christ

As a believer in Jesus Christ, I have much and many things other people are not aware of in their day to day experiences.

To other people who share similar beliefs as mine, what I write will make perfect sense.

To those who have not experienced what I have, through relationships, reading texts from antiquity, and times of extreme external threats to my life, what I write will seem to them, stupid, fraught with faulty thinking, and detrimental reliance on what does not exist. All that is typed, dear reader as preparation to help you understand my perspectives.

In Scripture’s Psalms, there are references to ‘hedges of protection’ and ‘shields of favor’. in the book of Isaiah, there are references to ‘beauty for ashes’ and ‘joy for mourning’. In so many other places are hundreds of promises, and confidences in an all powerful, omniscient God of Love who, for mere humans to know and understand, is a mind-boggling effort. I do understand that. And I understand the contrast, the seeming impossibilities of existence, the who and what I believe.

There have been many times I’ve questioned and wondered and asked, ‘this horror is so horrible, where is God?’ and ‘if God is so awesome and wonderful why do They (the Trinity) allow Xyz horrors on this earth?’ and many, many similarly worded questions.

The symbol of our questions is an open backward mark ?. For me, it is a reference to looking backward questioningly. It speaks to me what I did not understand at the time of various traumas, aches, and anguish. Backward gazing, hindsight is its other word, is thorough, comforting and assuring.




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Gifts of the Money Kind

There was a time in my life when my mama, dearly departed now, and I talked about the wisdom of giving money.

At the time of our conversation, a frequently aired television commercial touted the ‘one size fits all’ benefits of a gift certificate to their store. Mother. thinking the only natural progression of that thought made money the more perfect ‘one size fits all’ in that money could go anywhere the beloved or barely liked gift recipient wanted. Too. cash is the only monetary way to shop and remain an unknown entity or otherwise nameless person.

In the retail world, national and international stores have vast numbers of ways to document shopping styles and interests, if they have the information found on a personal check. They have even more information if the would be customer uses a credit card.  That was before cell phones, computerized side arms, so to speak.

Now, the big retailers have ‘readers’ in many places all over the stores. These readers track the customers shopping styles, the places stopped, the items touched and at all times identity and the various shopping history of the cell phone.

Mother and I did not imagine these times and department store styles to manipulate and track the customer. Our talk focused on the heart, the joy of the gift and its suitability to most any situation.

She remembered when looking for a dollar bill she found a twenty-dollar bill and spoke of the joy and excitement of suddenly having nineteen dollars more than she expected to have. Another time she found a five dollar bill! To her, it was a thrilling discovery of many possibilities.

“Who”, she wondered aloud to me. “Wouldn’t be thrilled to open a gift and find the money?” Neither of us could imagine an answer.



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Upside Down Tacos

Upside down tacos was our meal of choice for the evening. So named because the messiness of trying to eat a half moon shaped taco and enjoy all it offers is challenging.

Instead, we assemble the different ingredients around each one’s plate and with tortilla chips we enjoy bite after bite without dropping pieces onto the table and the floor or having bits of lettuce hanging from our chins.

It is a fun meal project.  Our kitchen is quite small, with four people at one time in there it becomes a special kind of dance. Sometimes the plate will be held high over the head by one person while another person may bend and dip to make a little more room. Too,  there is a fair amount of swing and slide stepping as we each and all move to our own drummer.

Because the refrigerator is at the closed end of the kitchen, getting ice for our drinks can be its own kind of comedy. But I dare not place a video for all to see.

The silly chatter, the lighthearted humour as we each make the tight fit a pleasant gathering, is a treasured joy. Reaching over, mind reading and eye rolling are common but important occurrences that add to the suppertime at our house. Over the table, we have a five by seven-inch copy of the Desiderata which flavours our consciousness as we go from our meal.



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The Can’t Chanters Quandary

To begin, the Quandary is:  how does a person who says “I can. I can. I can.” relate to a person who says

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

Whether the subject is plans to do something or questions about the general conduct of courtesy and respect, that statement, ‘I can’t’ immediately limits and denies the possibility of anything that might require that particular human’s participation.

A difference of attitudinal opinion, a denial of opportunity and, or options.

Smack dab in the middle of this quandary is what to do or how to relate to the person who claims defeat to the face of one who hopes?

More and more often are these perplexing conundrums of relationships.

“Hmmmmm. Hmmmmmmm. Hmmmmm.” Is my response

Another challenging situation of human conduct that brings to zero understanding and zero respect is when someone says, with a bit of  la-la-non-chalance,

“Oh, I call Such And So, we chat and do, but that is not for you.  Oh, I text Such And So but that is not for you.  Oh, I meet with Such and So for lunch, or brunch or supper, but that is not for you.  Oh, I have Such and So over for this or that but that is not for you. I participate in a relationship with Such And So but that is not for you, La-la-la-la. I love you, la-la-la-la.”




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