There's a bathroom on the right....

 

 

Must make a confession:

 

I know the first lines of a thousand songs, maybe. 

Singing that first line, over and over,

Grows old fast.

Music from the 70s

Comes on, and I smile.

I know the first line,

will hum the rest.

Years and years ago,

Hearing “Bad Moon Rising” (Creedence Clearwater),

I never understood the chorus.

WHAT? you ask.

What I heard was

“Take the bathroom on the right…”

Which didn’t make any sense to me then.

Now, I would really appreciate knowing that.

 

Flash forward to March 2017, Laughlin, Nevada....

I bought tickets to hear the CCR performance, 

and it was awesome. 

 

Don Henley and Joan Jett were there,

and we impressed, except Joan couldn't

go onstage, sick. 

 

Don Henley AWESOME.  Oh my! 

 

The song I most wanted to hear 

was "Bad Moon Rising".

And there it was or wasn't,

I thought it wouldn't be... 

 

It appeared just as we were gathering up our blanket. 

John Fogerty did not disappoint.  

 

Oh, how I love CCR. 

The Library with Walter the Farting Dog, et al

 

 

The best job ever for Brenda was volunteer work: one who wandered around the library and collected books left on tables..  Who would read this?  What a huge book!  Gotta write this one down!... Smells of old and new books were both invigorating and soothing.

non-fiction

Pushing the shelving cart, Brenda grabbed books, reading titles aloud.

"Orchid Thief" Non-Fiction?


"Glasnost, Perestoika and the Socialist Community"The spine is barely creased open.  Must be a very serious history.

"Vacation in Margaretta, New York"  A real page tuner.


"Walter the Farting Dog" Read this to my younger brother.  Never again.

"Wind Talkers" Saw the movie, Nicholas...what's his name..Cage? With Adam Sands?

An excellent book

A worthwhile read

 

 

"Like Water for Chocolate" Mom was reading this one, once and then twice.


 

                          

"The House of the Scorpion" by Nancy Farmer" Loved this book! 

More time remained on her shift. Seeking out "The Islands of the Blessed" by Nancy Farmer, Brenda settled with a sigh, beginning with the first page.

The underlined words are Wednesday Words, 
a meme began by Delores who wanted to challenge
bloggers to enjoy a break from their chosen genre.
Fighting computer frustrations, Delores handed this
challenge off to various bloggers.  

Random shifting thoughts...

 

thinking is too har.... 

 

Some blogger asked for other bloggers to share 18 thoughts.  I thought I would give it a try, knowing that there was no way I could come up with that many random thoughts. But here is what I stir...

 

#1 ... and most important is my relationship with God.  Even when my beliefs were wobbling, God kept His hand over me, protecting me.  Through Jesus Christ, my sins are forgiv...

...Use your turn sig...and then he said WHA...page 37...

#2... is the love my husband and I share.

 

...This might be oka....in Dark room with white cur...you hit a hors... 

#3 …my children who are now mature adults.  John and I were young parents, in our 20s, and did not know what we were doing.  Somehow, these wonderful people did not kno...

 

...much is 211 X 36... clothes to the dry...not on my watc...

 

#4 …writing, which began when I was barely able to read. Pencil on school lined paper or pen on better paper, writing is more than just tossing some words.  Writing is a constant growing experience which expan...

 

...is that smell...on channel 74...the dog did what....Gone with the W...

 

#5 …art.  My aspiration at one time 

 

 ...$476?...No, bad idea to...? So stupi...lyrics for The Yellow Sumari...                                                                                                                                             

#6 …quilting…which is also art.  Colors make my heart sing.

...no, the car wash...what did you sa.. I wasn't listeni...look by the toil...Subway sandwi..

  

#11 ...seeing a baby...holding a baby...watching parents holding babies....a baby's smile...

Baby!

Surely there are more, have to be. But my hands have gotten tired and my brain is reaching the limit of orderly thought. I have gone into the land of babies, where I turn into grandma goo...

 

...crazy, you said that sh...no, I didn't do the...and then we heard the soun... ..unicorns can't dan...

 

Now, where was I going with...Avocado... tortilla chips...

I will dream?

 

Will I dream?

That line is from 2010: A Space Odyssey” where Dr. Chandra is shutting down HAL, in an effort to see if he can reactivate HAL 9000 (2001).  HAL allows this process, only after asking that question.

 

At that time of the 1970s, computers were bulky machinery that filled a gymnasium. Then my computer seemed unfathomable and certainly something unattainable.

But here its relative sat, on my desk in front of me.  It did not have independent, self-created-as far as I knew.  But it sure had strong will, destructive will, as I discovered back in mid-December.

Have you ever seen that dreaded black screen with squared white letters telling you that your computer has inexplicably shut down?  Over and Over?  If you have, then you are nodding your head at this very minute. 

 

That happened to me on December 20, 2012.  So long ago.

My computer had been in the shop, and then returned to me clean and humble.  Will it last?  I don’t know.  But I wonder, as it sat on the work table with other broken computers, did it dream?

If it did, it had nightmares, terrible destructive nightmares.

 

 When my brothers died, I dreamed of them.  Odd dreams mind you, but I was close to them.  Robert was my age, born in January 1951, and I was born in December 1951. He died in 1997 from a horrible brain tumor.

 

Bill died in in 1999, at age 44. His death was the result of septic poisoning after back surgery.

 

Their dreams were about faith and death. Mom said that Robert told them as they drove him to the hospital that he was going to see Jesus that day. I know that he did, God confirmed that to me.

 

Bill? The day before his surgery he called me. He told me that he was ready to die, if that was what God willed for him.  

 

Trust, faith, eternal life and believing is what we were promised. God always keeps His Promises.

 

 

 

 

 Even to a computer?

 

Then and then

 

Source

Life is a chain of events, I know that is true.  These happenings link up to form the past.  That is how it works, and wonderfully so.

What I desire for a while is a period of time in which the weeks are filled with simple day-to-day activities:  laundry, going to a movie, reading, and such. 

This past few years have been labeled “…And Then…” years.

When my mother started to decline, “…And Then…” started.  Each phone call and each visit always led to something more.  When Mom died in April 2011, I thought life would resume the laundry and movie routine.  But, it didn’t.

All those “…and then…” events occurred:  A broken ankle.  A fall/sprawl (broken ankle betrayed me).  Trips to far-off places.  Christmas and birthdays.  Serious illness and surgery (for my husband’s mother).  Subsequent care following. 

Then...my daughter fell, broke bones in her foot, had surgery, was ‘laid up’ for two months.  Then…my other daughter had a baby boy!

More trips to far-off places.  And then…

Maybe I am whining about life in general.  Maybe I am like my wee grandson who cries when he needs something, and it is up to his parents to figure out what that is. And then I would like to be picked up and cuddled by Mom. 

If I could push a “pause” button, I would. Should I?  Would you? 

 

When it falls....

 

 

The timbers felt strong, even though the boards were fading from red to gray.  The tin roof had held up for decades, but even it was starting to doubt its integrity.  

 The weeds around the outside appeared to be holding the barn up, with so many vines and creepers.  The silent dust-mote interior spoke of cows, hay, empty feed sacks, and hidden bottles.  

 How much longer can it stand?  Even it doesn’t know.

 

 

 

Our old barn was built in the 1860s in Nebo, Illinois. In the 1950s, we raced and climbed in it, doing scary and dangerous things.  So much fun. In the 1980s it was starting to sway so it had to be taken down. So sad. This photo is one taken in the 70s. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cool, really cool cars,

 

                                                             

While my own experience with cars is limited to home to school/store to home, I had spent time with my grandson, the car thief. Thank you, dear Lord, for technology. We will watch him grow up.

 

While his vocabulary was that of a two-year old (which he was at the time), he had clear vision on the types of cars.  There are three:  little cars, big cars, and cool cars.  He was quite serious when he said "COOL cars."

It makes perfect sense, this division of cars.

Here are some “cool cars”.

I tried to remember what this is....

Now, given that these are “cool cars”, there are many cars that used to be the "Kings of Cool Fast Cars".  Sadly, they have broadened their line. Now the cool cars are really expensive, and not that cool.

 

Not your father's Maserati

The Dukes of Hazard and Magnum P.I. must weep at the devolution of the cool fast cars.

P.S.  The Mustang is still the Mustang.  You can see them at this site.

 

I need to get better cars, some cool cars. These are not.  

These are the cars I used to "play cars" with my grandson over Skype. 

  

Chronicle of a lifetime

 

                                                                        Pinterest

When the town’s beloved, elderly, and feisty Lucy Powell died suddenly at age 95, all wondered how to peer into her belongings.  Miss Powell had no relatives yet alive and no family to inherit a lifetime of her history.  Her family was her community and friends.

Slowly, close friends began to assimilate bits of China, old books, quilts, and other items into their own homes.  That was when the diary was discovered. Who should take it?  Who should even open it?

A diary can paint a picture of unrequited love with hearts broken, hearts renewed, and love lost then found. Finding a worn diary, fringed from fingers turning pages over decades, awed all who gathered around.

Finally, Old Ms Alda Franklin stepped forward.  I will take it.  She and I shared so many memories… All agreed.

When Alda settled down into her rocker with a cup of tea, she opened the cover and began reading each page. She chuckled, cried, gasped, and sighed until she read the last page:

My life had meaning and gave me reason to exist.  Touching others, being kind and generous, loving those who are unloved: that is the essence of life.

 Go!  Make your life count!

Source

This is a re-post 2015, underlined bold words are from Wednesday Words, a site that offers word or photo prompts. Thank you, Delores!

These hands

 

These hands don’t work like they did,

But, they still reach out to touch you,

          To feel the sweetness of your love.

My fingers can stroke your hair,

To run them down your face

          And feel the softness of your skin.

 

Hands hurt now, but they didn’t

          Back then when I first held

Your hands walking along through your life.

Yours were soft and young with the grip

          That said you trusted my hands.

 

These hands did so much that you never knew.

          My fingers don’t feel the same, they ache.

But, they still would do anything you needed

To be done, to help or heal.

 

I can feel how your hands have grown

To be the size of mine, to be stronger.

          Your hands cradle mine now.

Don’t forget how much these hands

Cared for you, loved you.

 

          Now, hold my hands with yours.

These hands, the ones that loved you

So much that they want to hold you still.

          Your hands, so much to learn.

Mine in a silent promise that your hands

Will always hold onto me,

        In your mind.

         

Hands shake now, weak

but strong in memories.

I hope your hands will hold onto

Other hands, hold them tightly,

Keep them near your heart and remember

          How much my hands loved you.