Can’t they just wire his jaw shut?

I’m speaking, of course, about the asshat-in-chief — you-know-who I mean — who recently stuck his foot in his mouth, yet again, when, with a look of utter surprise on his face (like he couldn’t believe his eyes), he turned to France’s new First Lady and said: “You’re in such good shape.”

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he then turned to her husband, President Emmanuel Macron, and  repeated it to him, equally incredulously  — Continue reading

As we hurtle toward another new year …

When I was young I was impatient. I couldn’t wait to be 13, then 16, then 18, then 21. I couldn’t wait to become acrossed teenager, to drive, to date, to vote, to work, to live on my own. Time moved so slowly, too slowly. It drove me crazy.

Now that I’m in my dotage it’s the exact opposite. I can’t keep up, can’t keep track. The days turn into weeks and months and years and decades way too quickly. It’s not fair, what’s the rush?

Why can there be no happy medium?

Don’t bother trying to come up with an answer. It’s one of those Continue reading

Day 310. Too Proud?

It’s uncanny.  Honestly it is.  It’s not like I wait for the WordPress Daily Prompts before I write my blog posts.  I do have plenty of my own ideas.  But there are some helpdays when, even if I’ve already started to work, the Prompts feel like they are just meant for me.

And I end up abandoning what I’ve started (not really, I save it for another day) and begin again.  It’s just that personally relevant.

Yesterday was such a day.

“When you’re unwell, do you allow others to take care of you, or do you prefer to soldier on alone?  What does it take for you to ask for help?”

As always, it’s my mother who inspires me.  Who guides me.  Who shows me the way.  Who’s my role model. Continue reading

Day 287. Sound Advice

Kate, who writes Views and Mews by Coffee Kat, had a wonderful post yesterday, about her mother.  More specifically, it was a story about one time she hotdogs(Kate) had to take her mother to the hospital; and how, when they were on their way, her mom made her stop at a restaurant for lunch.

It immediately made me think of my own mother.  And a trip (one of several) we made to the hospital.

When my mother was in her sixties she was diagnosed with diabetes.  She was put on medication and was watched, like a hawk, by an endocrinologist.  Despite her fondness for chocolate her numbers were always excellent, until the day she died.  They always hovered just slightly above normal.

What will always mystify me, though, is why her body was literally ravaged by the disease, even though her diabetes was so well controlled.  She had every known complication you could think of.  Diabetic retinopathy, Continue reading

Day 60. A Milestone

It’s been two months, since I first had the crazy idea of attempting to write something new, every day, for a year.  Sixty days.  Sixty stories.  Sixty different topics.  Six hundred and twenty-one tags.  Forty-four thousand, seven hundred nineteen words.

And sixty grande Pike’s to keep me going.

Damn!  That’s half a novel’s worth of work.  That’s one mother load of a blog.  And I’m not even close to being done.  Done in, occasionally.  But not done.  I’ve written on more subjects I could ever have imagined, from aging to atoning.  From beauty to books.  The Caribbean to cycles.  Distractions.  Entertainment.  And fantasies.

On googling.  Health and history.  From ignorance to intentions.  Joy and love.  From mischief to  music and naturopathy.  Politics and prejudice.  Refining to rituals.   Continue reading