Heartbreaking …

Another 59 people have lost their lives for no reason and 527 more have been injured. This time the massacre of innocent people happened in Las Vegas, at a concert. The shooter had at least 10 guns (many of which were automatic rifles) with him and another 18 were found at his home. He also had hundreds of rounds of ammunition and explosives. Many of the guns were purchased legally.

It seems that the NRA, the GOP (who have been bought and paid for by the NRA), the President and all those gun-totin’ Second Amendment-loving Americans think having the right to bear arms makes America great.

And that, my friends, is the real tragedy.

Instead of my usual blog post, today I’m going to turn this space over to Jimmy Kimmel, the comedian and late-night talk show host who has taken on the role of being America’s conscience. God knows America needs one.

Watch Jimmy Kimmel’s opening monologue here. It will break your heart and it will make you angry. And if you live in the United States I hope it inspires you to take on your government, and the NRA. Enough already.

You can do this.

 

 

 

Really???

Is all the mean-spiritedness of this year’s presidential race (and the last eight years) starting to rub off on me? Am I missing something? Am I just an old stick-in-the-mud? Or is the carnival-like atmosphere of the GOP convention also making you wonder how the US ever became a super power?

I know the Democrats do it too, although from what I watched on TV last night it didn’t seem as bad. I know it’s the way it’s always been done. And while I admit it’s always given me pause, I’ve usually just shrugged my shoulders and moved on.

But this year, when so much is at stake, when the country has never been more divided, when nobody’s life seems to

What a treasure trove I found (metaphorically speaking) …

Back in September I wrote about how I was finally attacking my closets and drawers and cupboards and pantries and shelves and papers.  Long overdue it was.

Well I’m happy to say I’m done.  Mission accomplished.  And you may find this hard to believe but I actually enjoyed it.  So much so I seem to have become obsessed with order.

I now wake up in the middle of the night and go through stuff and purge.  While I’m watching TV or reading a book I suddenly get the urge to reorganize what I’ve just organized; and I do it!  In slightly under two months I’ve gone from thriving in chaos to being OCD.

Clearly I am channeling my mother who is, of course, loving it.

Speaking of my mother, when I moved her out of her apartment and

How do I love thee?

I’ve been having a wee bit of trouble charging my iPhone recently.  I suspected it was my power cord, but it is three years old, so I sort of had to accept the possibility it was my battery.  As in, time for a new one.  Which in my case is a major pain in the ass, because my phone is my office, my life, my lifeline, not to mention my alarm clock.  My only alarm clock.  And a battery can’t be replaced instantly in the store.  The phone has to be sent away for anywhere from three to five days.

Not good.

So yes, I’ve been putting off dealing with it.  But over the weekend the matter was taken out of my hands.  Procrastinating was no longer an option.  Because no matter

(sigh) … those were the days …

Last week, last Wednesday to be precise, Julie over at Sow, Sew, So wrote a blog that really resonated with me; and the next thing I knew I was taking a little trip down memory lane.  She was talking about how she used to be able to stay up late and never seemed to get tired.  Boy oh boy, do I ever get that.

When I was in my twenties, back in Montreal, I don’t think I got four hours sleep a night.  I’d work all day. Then I’d meet a friend at her favourite bar — Tiffany’s on Crescent Street.  It’s gone now, sadly.  It was in a Victorian style house — the bar was on the main floor and there was a terrific restaurant, owned by the same guy — George Durst — upstairs.  At that time he was Montreal’s club king; and he was definitely a very strange guy, okay creepy.  He had two pet cheetahs he would walk on leashes, like a couple of dogs.  They

Day 360. Countdown Begins …

Well, I’ll be.  Can’t believe it, to tell you the truth.  Here I am, FIVE, count them, FIVE days away from reaching my goal!!  Was it really just under one year ago that I woke up with the crazy idea of blogging every single day for 365 days?  When I wondered:

“Have I got something informative or interesting or engaging or charming or meaningful or amusing to say every day?  Am I disciplined enough to show up here every single day for a year?  Well, we’re about to find out.  Beginning today, and for every one of the next 364 days, my goal is to post something new.  I’ll write about anything and everything.  Whatever pops into my head, grabs my attention, crosses my path, stops me dead in my tracks.  Whatever appeals to me — and whatever will, hopefully, also appeal to you.  Let me know what you think.”

Yes, it was!

As you can see I’m in a celebratory mood.  Thought the moment deserved some bling.

Before I tell you what it’s been like, let me take care of some business:  Over the last several weeks I’ve been asked by some of you, what my future blogging plans are.  Will the gig be up when the year’s up, in

Day 338. No Peeking?

Must say I did a double-take when I read yesterday’s WordPress Daily Prompt:  “Who is the one person you hope isn’t reading your blog.  Why?”  Have to admit, the notion of not wanting someone to see your blog is a bit odd to me.

I mean, wouldn’t the Internet be the LAST place you’d put something you didn’t want everyone to read?  Same with your other social media.  How much more public can it get?

So tell me.  Am I missing something?  Is it one of those trick questions?

Well, each to his (her) own.  Maybe there are bloggers hoping certain individuals don’t find their blogs.  Perhaps they should consider blogging anonymously.  You can do that.  Or you can come up with a ‘nom de

Day 265. Thanks, Julie

Everyone who reads my blog regularly knows I’ve had a moratorium on accepting awards for quite a while.  I’m not being a snob.  I’m not trying to be difficult.  I’m not trying to be ornery.  Or make a point.

It’s not that I’m not grateful.  I am very grateful.  When fellow bloggers think a blog is worthy of recognition it is, indeed, an honour.

Quite simply, I’ve been very lucky.  I have been nominated for many awards.  I’ve had more than my fair share of the limelight.  And I decided it was time for others to have a turn.

I still feel the same way.

However, Julie at Sow, Sew, So nominated me for an award the other day I can’t turn down.  Because I just love the sentiment behind it.  This is one I’d never heard of, with good reason.  It’s only been around for a week or two.

And its purpose is not just to acknowledge  a particular blogger or blog, but to acknowledge the WordPress ‘family’ we’re all a part of.  I totally get it.  I’ve written about the community many times.  I am constantly

Day 241. Here’s Mine

“I LIVED.  I WROTE.  I REWROTE.”

The story of my life.  My epitaph.  My autobiography.  My six-word memoir.  Have you ever heard of six-word memoirs?  They’re the brainchild of Larry Smith, the co-founder and editor-in-chief of the online publication, Smith Magazine.  The idea behind both the magazine and the memoirs is to provide a platform for storytelling, in all its forms.

It’s been said that Ernest Hemingway had once been asked to write a short story in just six words.  The result was:  “For sale:  baby shoes, never worn.”  Larry Smith was inspired by it.

So he decided to create his own version of the challenge.  And in November 2006, he and his colleagues at