OMG==how good does this feel?

(I know if I haven't miffed you off yet I just haven't gotten to you. I think there are exactly three of you--one a Saint--who don't get the Fantods when I show up.

Anyway, before the age of 5, I did my thing and had a wonderful time. Then one day Mother told me, "Don't talk so much--the other kids won't like you!"

Who the face? Talking, which is my favorite thing right after breathing is Not Good? And other people are supposed to like me? And I am supposed to behave in such a way as to effect that? OH Cripes! And goodbye Childhood.

Years later I realized what the subscript was: Don't tell the other kids about Daddy. That I could have done. And gone merrily along, guiding the play, as I always had.

Anyway, I have one PM from a person who is so good-hearted and broad-minded I haven't run her off yet.

And I'm laughing because a month and two days ago, I'd have thought--gone a month and nobody missed me. Waaaaah!

And now it is okay. I don't have to be popular. I just get to be me--as I always was. What a relief.


Blessings to everyone. My heart aches for those who have added sorrow at the Holidays. I just had to detach from "Days". And I haven't suffered as so many here have and if I had I'd have probably lost my mind.

And may everyone have a Blessed, better with each new day New Year. You are all the best.

And If you pray, please pray for me I was a powerhouse for the first 10 days. Then they wore me down. I am kitten-weak. I think they destroyed a lot of my mitochondria with their blessed antibiotics. Have read that mitochondria (our little power houses) look and act like bacteria and that can happen. And I believe it. Did I say--as a final insult, on the Sunday before Christmas, the Visiting Angels sent a woman who smokes to my house. Full frontal assault. I am now allergic to things I wasn't sensitive to before.

Did I mention 10 years old sister has been put into a rehab facility during all this? Poor husband--she's to be transferred to a nursing home here in our little town tomorrow. He's going to meet the transport here. She's going through withdrawal/detoxxification from opoids some genius put her one last summer. I didn't know until 5 days in. So now she's going through a lot of the things I have been with the added fillip that coming down--even half a pill a week--is making her crazy at times. Husband has made me first priority. I am touched. This is new.


Hugs,
Temple

((Temple)) so pleased that you sought out help are now on the road t recovery and still have a charming sense of humor
Happy New Year my dear friend.

Ah, Jerry--you and Betty have been my saints like, forever. It was a sad day for me when I got so worked up trying to take care of you and your precious brain that I ticked you off. To put it mildly.

Betty--you are the one who always overlooks my stuff. Or maybe I've never tried to fix you. That's probably it. I did think of you and your Stephen in all the crazy mix. I always see you going off to the opera together. When I'm not seeing you 4th from the left in the Rockettes. (Betty was not in the Rockettes--she's just groomed like a performer.)

I write, write, write because my voice is messed up and it tires me to talk. Also there were scary days when I couldn't get the words out. I was so afraid I'd had a stroke.

Dear David--you know I love you. If I can swing it--like find a tramp ship if they still have them--you eat with the crew, read books and breathe in sea air. I'd never make it flying that far all at once--even hop-scotching.

If SO would want to get her back up over that you could tell her I am older than you.

I also want to go to Hawaii and get a Slack Key Guitar infusion.

David, Grandson Morgan learned to play a Slack Key piece. A hu lili is my favorite--something about the cadence.

Daddy had an African American type banjo--a ringing sound instead of the flat sound of the Bluegrass Banjo. I can still hear the pieces he played in my ear And I can still play the Spanish Fandango he taught me. In his late 70s and 80s, he'd order Classical? banjo music from England. Whoever? Maybe Lute pieces? Mother gave me the banjo when he died but I gave it to his oldest son, because he deserved it as the eldest and he came. And I remembered once when Daddy was in hospital and he came from half a state away and stocked the pantry with Richelieu fruits and other really fine things from a boutique grocer. And he would send me dresses and sweaters and he had one child--later two and worked as a typesetter/printer and as a Magician occasionally. The youngest sister in that family said he would probably sell it. She had her own reasons to resent him, but I bet he's still got it today. Recently located him by Googling. He's 100. He' was 5'3"--just like me and said sister. The youngest brother also played banjo and organ and tap-danced, I read when I found his obituary. They were all giants in my eyes--a professional organist, a surgeon, a Phd in English who taught highschool, a comedienne who'd had a radio show (youngest daughter) and the youngest son, of dancing/banjo fame who flew missions as a bomber pilot in WWII.

When I brought up writing--two caregivers here round the clock, and nobody could seem to find my notebooks. I was writing away one day and looked back at the front of the book and in October I had written, "I am willing for God to change me (probably into the kind of person I want to be--I hope I left it up to Him.) And I thought That was Fast! And a whole bunch more dramatic than I'd have chosen, but maybe God decided to speed up the process--I've not got a bunch of decades left for gradual change.
After the night the Steps worked me over, I had a night where my muscles and joints were self-massaging. Daughter was there and saw that. The only pain I had was from my back; I've had so many cervical sprains over the years. In lieu of trading our Saturn, which had no shocks and $4,000 in for a better car. He still hasn't answered me why that seemed like the thing to do.
Anyway, it was entirely involuntary, but like getting a vigorous massage all night long, from the inside out. That was all I ever had morphine for--the pain in my back.

All the pros praise the surgeon (daughter saw him--said he looked as if he were 12) for his great stapling job. I didn't look at the "work" for days and wished I never had. He's left me with a frowny face with a line of staple marks running down one side and one eye. Looks like it needs a pirate's hat tattooed on it and an eyepatch. There goes my Selfie career.

I know Rosie and Jozie aren't mad at me--I hope they weigh in. Pupsickle must be half-grown by now.

Hey Temple - good to see you....sorry for all you've been through! Looks like you are on the road to recover - Happy New Year!!!

IAH--thank you for the sweet support. I want to be like you when I grow up, down to the fitness--you have to spot me some decades. But w/o the scary competitive mixed-team sports.
Adult remedial ballet or ballroom dancing are more in my line.

Sprang this on daughter a few days ago. Stand, cross your feet, now lower yourself to sitting on the floor and then rise again, all w/o using your hands. She aced it. So could have my mother in her 70s--maybe her 80s, I do not doubt. That's a fitness/how long you are liable to live test. I'd love to get back to that. On Daughter's father's side GMother was a 300 bowler/ 3 holes in one on Par 3, after taking Golf up in her 50s, ace tennis player. And husband played baseball, got right up there in golf in his "yoof", I think he got the highest score on the Physical fitness tests at Camp Chaffee ever in the history--that's the story he got, but it hasn't been verified. Daughter was good on the monkey bars--the way the little thing survived grade school, and dodge ball--apparently that thing hurts--lots--if it hits you, skied in grade school and was good at jr. high level gymnastics. Kind of like our Rosie, but not into team sports or tennis.

I like to brag about them. As one of my dance instructors said about the teachers in general--"we can't walk but we can dance." that's me.



Rosie--so where is my picture of Principessa Sophia Pupsickles In her Christmas costume? Is she bigger than the Twins yet?

Loved what I saw of your "slapping drama Queens down to size" in a Nice way! I had a boss-a psychologist, who always responded "Let me think about that" to any invitation or request.
I wish I'd learn to do this. And when I told my on-line friend to ask her big, golden Teddy Bear of a husband, how he felt about older women, he responded (good lawerly reply): "I have nothing to say to that!"

Have we heard from Kathleen?

I'm knocked out by all the growth on the board.

Sorry about your Annus Horribilis. It means "Terrible Year." Queen Elizabeth used it in a speech over the radio. Not what you thought? Grins.

But you lived through it! And you are stronger And more resilient now. And I don't see much resentment in you anymore, do you?


Loves,
Temple

-- Edited by Temple on Wednesday 2nd of January 2019 11:26:04 AM

Hey Temple - I chuckled about the sports mention above!!! For many years, the team sports (softball & soccer & volleyball) were similar to therapy for me. I had groups of people who came together to socialize, play, and hopefully win. I am a competitive soul, but winning/loosing with grace & dignity were more important, so I selected like-minded team members. I am no fool either - I went out of my way to always recruit players that were better than me, and we did very well!!!

What I've come to accept/understand is no matter what age/stage we are, movement is 'key'. Both my parents are 84 now and my father still golfs 3 days a week and walks the other 4. Not excessive, but a couple miles. My mother has slowed way, way down since her pace-maker and her heart/health issues and the difference between the two is night/day. They had the good fortune of being healthy for much of their lives, and I believe it's because the did stay moving! That's my goal - keep moving! So start small and just set new goals when you feel like it. As with all things in life, it's not a competition and personal fitness is as unique as each of us - do what feels good!

Keep doing you - and keep recovering....I had an emergency appendectomy 12/1 and am not supposed to golf until 6 weeks. I progressively feel better and better yet do know that any core activity still pulls @ my abdomen. Against my wishes, I am following the surgeon's advice on golf. Self-care wins vs. self-will - urgh!!

Bless your heart! We are twins! We both got gut-shot on the same day!

I bet your incision is cuter than mine.

I hear you--The day my father died, at 84, he was ripping up the floor in "my" bedroom. And he had three vegetable gardens going. He had an aortic aneurism. A quick way to go.

My mother was left as the cutest/prettiest 60 year old widow

My mother had a mini trampoline, and was always dancing around the house--never sat on a chair--perched. She did take a nap on the floor every day after lunch, with her feet elevated.

Then in her nud 80s she started walking 5 miles a day with her 40-50 year old friend and I think she overdid it. And she developed polymyalgia and suffered a lot.

When she was hospitalized in her late 80s, with a knee replacement fail, she weighed about 120--she and my father kept themselves slender--by will power--and there was a trapeze over her bed, She could put herself anywhere they wanted by upper body strength alone. I never expect to get anywhere near her. Did not grow up carrying water with my sister in wash tubs, for instance, but it's going to get a whole lot better.

Since we moved here 10 years ago, I remember at least one year where I mostly huddled on my bed, in a sitting-up fetal position, more or less--trying to make myself small so husband wouldn't come in and yell abuse at me.

I know, I know--and what did that get me? NO MAS!

I went into the hospital with a lifetime heartrate of 125-145. That may not be true, but it is what is stuck in my memoryIt is now down to the 90s. I've asked husband to teach me to get it down to the 70s. His is in the 60s. Had a 70 year old dance teacher who'd been an athlete and his was in the 40s. It just did a beat every once in a while.

BP is 115/62, which is about what it's always been. O2 is 95-98. So glad to get off the oxygen--don't need it. I do have a little canister w/o the tubing and I can take a few hits if someone surprises me--like the smoker who slammed me back in hosp. for 72 hours. It's all good--if I EVER in my life go to a hospital in this town again, I know to go to this one. Well, it will be all good when I stop being hyper-reactive to everything.

My respiration rate needs to ome down more. I've lost 10 pounds. 40 to go and then we see. When I started dancing in my 50s, I lost 40 in 3 months, just getting off the junk and dancing 15 hours a week. Oh! Oh! I've been w/o a pool for 10 years. I'm going to have a salt-water or sterilized by light pool or a combination. Swimming is great exercise for me. I am a Pisces, btw. Pisces rules the feet (dance) and is a water sign. Ha!

So--nothing wrong with my metabolism--I have to eat a lot of junk and drink 4 or more Mexican Cokes a day to way this much. But I won't lose it as fast as I did in my early 50s. But it will melt away. Then I'll be wanting plastic surgery. This gets vicious. Why did I not get this off 10 or 20 years ago? Because I let myself get depressed and helpless feeling.

Anyway, I've been fit before--and I love the feeling. And the clothes.

Another oddity--My sister and her son and I cannot regulate our bodies as to being comfortable. Today it's in the high 30s and she's in a rehab facility with three ice bags on her abdomen. I'm here at home and I keep turning the thermostate up a degree, down a degree, put on and take off clothes. I do this all the time--year round. Except on open doors and windows days here in the Hill Country when it is perfect. We do not sweat--except I must have perspiredd some in my dancing years because that got pretty intense and I don't remember my face red and people getting alarmed. I went in a sauna once. Came out and my pores turned themself inside out, trying to cool me. Husband, daughter and Gdaughter adapt; they have to live with whatever is going on with me. I am better todday because I have the house at 72-73, ddown from 73-74 yesterday, and I am not feeling chilly sitting here in short sleeves.

Once, playing tennis" at the park at the end of our street in Tulsa, I got "warmed up." It was an amazing feeling. I have a quick reaction time anyway, and w/o the brain-freeze I could get to where the ball was going to land and take a swing at it. I felt "body flight" while danceing once--it is as if one is flying in a standing position and now and then touches a foot down to reassure oneself that the floor is still there. My teacher said it was unuaually early in learning ballroom.

I must have gotten to some state when I was skiing--little man-made hill practically in our neighborhood in NW Indiana--not standing in lone lines or long hang time in a lift--just up the hill and down the hill. It iwas the first time in my life I was comfortable outdoors in the winter. Learned to ice skate, m/l and went sledding that year, too--late 20s and had a blast.

This was how I was when the caregivers were here--get wound up and tell everything I know. Thought later it was because the hospital had ill-advisedly give me "something to relax me." If they'd asked, I could have told them that any drug that affects the mind will get the opposite effect from what they are seeking.

Just stimulated in general, I think. Have spent th last 3 years very isolated. Will not do that ever again.

So sorry to have sent you my chart. Nobody so far has told me how long before I am allowed to lift. Got the hernia in the first place because I had gall bladder removed--knew not to lift anything. Mother would insist on not getting personnel in the Assisted Living Facility to come help her w/ toileting before I got there. As usual, she waited and that day I was trying to get her to the john before she had an accident and she was in a panic and had to be lined up just so--only one foot was bearing any weight at that time. And I liften the back of the wheelchair and her. Later one day I sat in that chair. I could put it anywhere I wanted with one toe--it was that sensitive. She was in full-cry passive-aggression at that point. Should have let her overflow her garment. I had real problems detaching from my mother.

Anyway, none of this was necessary. And I see I have some acceptance to work on. Everybody is kind of whoever they are, aren't they. And bless 'em.

As of yesterday Mrs. puppy is five months old and already a good watch dog. She is turning out to be a really nice pet. And she send you hugs and good energy for this upcoming year. We all do

David--That was so sweet--what you said!

I remember when this record came out. I am thinking you weren't old enough to have heard it the first round.

Words are so much fun! I play Scrabble the way my father did--trying to use all the letters in one word. Meanwhile Mother was getting the X on the dark blue square.

I bet you are like me--playing your own game, no matter what the others are doing.

Temple--


Blessed out of my mind and I know it.

What do those of you with access to all of your brain cells think?

I am thinking--I do not need OT and I never want to see "I don't even have to come in the house, but here's 1/5 of my body inside your door anyway." And since she left now my hands have gone all itchy from the inside out. Touched a plastic baggie. Am I going to be allergic to all plastic now, forever? I don't know. Going to take baking soda to stop the reaction. Applied Lidocaine topically. Husband says how about hydrocortizone? And I say I don't know--might stop it and might just make one more thing I am allergic to. Pears were in glass, I tought. Wound up in hard plastic. Now does every bite I eat have to have never touched plastic. Would be fine with me but hard to manage from bed. If daughter were her she'd get it do it. Husband has always had muddled thinking if anything is unusual.
Rats!
So--the PT people will want to come next week to evaluate me and if they do it will wear me out unless I am a whole lot better. Then PT isn't any fun. I think I'd rather, when/if I am able, to go to the spa at the end of the street when I am better and if I can ever be around outside people again--I don't know--I've been wondering what happens if everything goes off at once? Do I survive a global, simultaneous reaction to everything? I don't know. Never had it this bad--what will more do?

If I'm going to die anyway, could it just be over and done and without the horrorshow?

Anyway, If I get better and it seems I am still being made worse, I'd prefer to go to the Spa at the end of the street and take Tai Chi. That looks like nothing because the aging Chinese do it in the street every morning. Ha and Ha. My Shrink was giving a class at the Episcopal Church in my neighborhood and I pleaded until he let me come. I was in my 40s. He was amazed at how well I did. I went through the sequence twice and my thighs were in tetany. That's lots of little tremors one can't control. Muscles feel as if they are turning into stone. So, yes Tai Chi is a great workout and good for grace and balance and muscle tone.

A Tai Chi funny. Hubs and I were waiting for a bus down by the Embarcadero in San Francisco one night in 1980--our year there. It was a time when you would see small knots of protesters with signs marching on the sidewalks. And across the street there was a lone man, doing Tai Chi. Husband is never up to date on what is happening and it was pretty new to this country at the time. And I felt him freeze and tremble and he had hold of my hand and the grip got very tight--he thought he was looking at something threatening. I told him it was just a young Chines man doing exercises--somewhat similar to Kung Fu.

Or find a class and take Country line dancing. It's a real workout. You are supposed to keep your head level when you do country dancing so the ankles take a real work-out. And on the line-dancing, it is oriented at the walls or the compass points and every time I turn in a new direction I forget what I learned before. So I guess it would eventually be good for my brain. I am used to dancing with one man who leads me--I don't have to think--just follow. And with my reaction time, the owner of the studio/ my teacher used to accuse me of trying to lead and I'd tell him I was just following faster than anybody ever has with him before. Or if I had my own pool, I could seim!

So the question is, am I losing anything by firing the whole provider/company, and not getting physical therapy down the line somewhere when my strength kicks back in?

Thank you.

My on-line friend in Tacoma, who is a nurse, did lots of my thinking for me during this ordeal. And my daughter does it w/ hardly any hand-signals, even. Who knew we were going to wind up not at loggerheads? Who knew she thinks like I do? Who knew one mention and she's got it. I'm not able to do that now.

Sissy is at her short-stay rehab place here in town. Trying to get husband to go so he can maybe get back here before dark. He has to come in and get on the computer before he does Anything. No jury of my peers--women married to maddening men--would ever convictt me, I swear. I am sending her my last nightgown and a pair of baby doll pajamas. Nobody is doing my laundry or caring if I have worn the same pants and silky long-johns for 48 hours straight.

Whiny, Temple--snap out of it. Sissy has a housekeeper who does her laundry. Hubs could have called her in the time he was over here stroking his computer. But he's got this--it is out of my hands. He will make all the decisions. Wonderful,and I know he or God or somebody will make the big decision. I also know, as a woman, when you are flat of your back, the details assume very big status.

Good news--she has a roommate for now--a German woman. So she probably doesn't need the overnight caregiver that I got for her for free by negotiating because the place sent me the smoke-laden individdual an slammed me back into hospital for three days. The woman has never said she is sorry for sending her. Is she afraid of liability?

Hubs won't ever apologize--maybe 5 times, tops in decades. Does he think it shows weakness? Every time I apologize do I look like a fool to him? And who cares? I am the center of my life, now. Well, God is, but I'm just getting used to having my life and not having it on hold for everyone else. Yea, Me!

 

 Oh Temple,

                  I love your new lease on life, and your reflections. I balked a little with my "Tom Sawyer" line. That younger Alanon reader might read our thoughts and sentiments and say "whut!"

But, hey... when our emotions begin to arise...all manner of things come to the surface- healthy broad emotions!  ...

and we all should begin to expect the benefits and rewards of recovery!

Regarding "Dear Hearts and Gentle People- I grew up in the radio age... I really missed the fact that my family was not musical, and there was no fun and dancing in the air. And talk about books, movies and stuff like that. It is no secret that you and I lay in the tall grass and talked and talked until the sun went down- and about all sorts of things, and everything. Which was magical. 

A great catch-up for me. 

 - ...

Rosie,

I was in Houston 1999 to 2008. Since then, we are in the Texas Hill Country--45 miles N/w of Austin. Love the weather. It is dry and I can be outside any day of the year--if it is early enough in summer. Well, all morning in the shade. And lots of afternoons on the high deck. Am blessed.

Lack of culture and drop-dead thrift shops, not so much. But the air is actually clean. Well--maybe not--they keep grinding mountains of granite down, so there is probably some risk involved in breathing. But not like the Gulf Coast when I was 5 to 7, or the lead and zinc mining town (we collected lead) from 7 to almost 18, or the smelting town from 18 to 10, or Gary, IN from 20 to 24 (I washed the glittery steel dust off the windowsills with detergent--the snow was still around in April, black with steel dust. Not as bad as Tulsa, with it's oil refineries during the 80s and 90s, then Houston in the 2000s, muggy, dirty air with petrochemicals--we lived near River Oaks, out of the worst of it, but not good. God never intended Houston to be anything but a swamp. So now here, and New Jersey, and NW Indiana but not Gary were the times we had good air.

Those puppies are rich--so many toys and Mama treats them for most things so they don't have to go to the dreaded Vet.

Have a lovely New Year

I was on here so much yesterday my ankles swelled. And it was fun.

I'm stronger today and had actual food and it didn't make me itchy--except for super-rich chocolate milk this morning--going to lay off dairy. I haven't had food reactions before, so this is new.


Cancelled Dr. tomorrow. Sissy lived through "pharmalock/computer/Snafu as usual machine wouldn't let her have her paid meds in the night. Supposedly all straightened out. One thing to do and the new short-term rehab screws that up. To get her in bed B you ask for bed A. And God help me if I'm put on hold--an interminable commercial for how great the place is. Do your one thing right and I'll buy in. Otherwise, could you just play decent music and let Don Pardo go back to life as it was meant to be?

Loves!

Hey ((((Temple)))) Austin...NICE place to be, especially just outside the city...Heck, you are only a couple of hours from me, LOL.....NO thrift shops??? How dare they??? LOL

I would go through withdrawal aplenty if I could not go thrifting...Been pretty good, managing my compulsion to "thrift" I have 2 dresser drawers with just Jeans...3 full big dressers of clothes, closet and chest in closet..all stuffed with designer clothes. LOL..now you know my addiction, haha

Took the girls to the vet for their rabies shots...Missus Puppy was her first adventure and she did GREAT....got weighed, basic exam..vet said my pets were well cared for, and she along with the others got their shots.....she did VERY well....

its rainy and cucka weather today, so it was easy peasy at vet..I was #3 in line (no office visit clinic) I've know the vet for 23 years..

I live outside in the "burbs" of Dallas...I just hate the city, but I am making the best of where I am at...at least I have my thrift shops and gyms to go to....going back to work tomorrow after 2 weeks vaca....it will be slow till taxes come...then I'll make enough $$ to pay my home and car ins, LOL...

anyway, I just love reading your posts...I had to laugh when you said you were on so long your ankles swelled up....I'm glad U R on the mend...I can't do dairy either...hormones, GMO grain fed to the cows....I drink Goats milk 1/2 with soy in my smoothies...lovely digestible drink....

I hope we don't get a butt kicker of a freezing winter like we had last January....electricity rates are sky high...I shopped for 2 days, and settled on my existing company...a full 2 cents more per kwh IF I use over 1,000 kwh...if under?? the average is about 11 cents or so...is it bad in Austin????

HUGS

Temple wrote:

---

 David posted something about time limits and constraining oneself. Made me laugh.

And cross-talk. Hey--I started out in Oklahoma, where cross-talk was a Requirement! Don't get me started.

---

 Oh Temple- my first 10 or 12 years "The Group" was the sponsor. Like all in wrestling.

 Wouldn't have missed it for quids.  ...

 

I respect the more recent guidelines- but when they are first applied it is usually a hen's breakfast.

But we always rise above the trends- nothing like good old ESH... 

 

But hey- round here- I figure that the person who starts the thread "chairs".

So I follow their lead... as I am doing now...

 

This is a doozy of  a group Temple- because it draws on rich experience from all over- a tremendous resource!  ...

 

A blustery summer day here... working on a family project.

 

This song resonates from early childhood... In this clip we see the safety inspector rushing to their aid! 

It seems it was played every day!

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tnrbihlbbx0

 

 

www.youtube.com/watch

This is supposed to be Ferlin Husky's version. Better than the 19 57 version; he's learned to sing on the "i" on "Give" instead of the V and the vowel is better.
I like this so very much. Not so nail-you-to-the-wall in volume as JH.

If this doesn't work, can you look up on YouTube==Ferlin Husky Gone and put it on here?

Inept Am Me.

If cornbread had babies, they would look like Hushpuppies!

Reminds me--a singer, and I can't remember who she was said her dog was named "HishBooBoo." She was making fun of Lily Pons,
a French Opera Singer who was big back in the 40s. The American singer said Pons had to go back to France every now and then to recharge her accent.

She said Pons sang the final line from Gershwin's Summertime, "So hush, little baby, don't you cry." as "Hish, leetle boo-boo, don' you cree." And to a French person "cry" would look like "cree." Anyway, she named her next dog Hish,Boo Boo.

Maybe you had to be there. I don't expect Great Artists to be jealous and catty, and I guess they are just people who can sing.. ,

Temple

 

Ooh... Ferlin Husky was new to me!!!

I bit like Roy Orbison... just a little...

I think about the gloomy boring drinking sessions I grew up along as a kid. No singing or dancing... not a drop of scintillating conversation.

When I went to the city- at aged 17 I half expected people with berets [with a dimple on the top] sitting at street-side cafes talking about the issues of the day- another disappointment.

I am 100% with Mama- you are such  a lot of fun to be around!

                              ...

{{{{{David))))))

You've gone this long without Ferlin Husky? Poor Baby. I mean that. So glad I came along and saved you. That--especially this version--is on my all-time hit list. And don't you love the name? Ferlin. Doesn't get any more country than that, does it? And Husky. Some of my favorite doggies are Huskies--especially the blue-eyed ones.

I know--you were looking for Young Ernest Hemingway in Paris in the 20s. I sent Grandson "A Movable Feast" to read before we went there 6 years ago. Mr. doesn't read for entertainment or culture--only for information--didn't read it. So there we are at Deaux Magots and he doesn't even know where he is. Or Shakespeare and Co.--Oh he does like bookstores.

Times you just want to cuff the cubs around a little bit, you know?

I always wished I'd been a rich woman with a salon back in Paris in the day.

Or a Bohemian Chick in NYC in the 50s. With people reading poetry to Jazz.

Today's young people who think they are movers and shakers frighten me. Too much hubris and not enough education. They think that money is this magical stuff you just get from the government, and it is free. Even Grandson, asked a year and a half or so ago: Why do we even need borders? I was so shocked, I didn't respond. Now I would answer, Well, Sweetheart, if you think living in "beautiful, downtown Mumbai"would be fun, or Medelin during the height of the festivities there, go for it. I'm probably going to shuffle off to Switzerland. And by the way, I am going to spend your inheritance.

I don't know enough to discuss World Affairs. Or the eternal truths. Or Philosophy. Or Economics (I would argue w/ what I've read--they see a zero-sum environment and I think this is an abundant universe--plant one bean and get one hundred--save ten, plant them, next year you get 1,000.) But I love to sit and listen to those who do. My friend-in-the-Computer's husband is a lawyer--the Constitution is his passion. I like to ask a question and then sit back in anticipation. His mind hands him a beautiful essay--in perfect sentences and paragraphs, Justlikethat.
Another learned friend has mentioned Systems--or a slightly cracked former schoolmate mentioned them on Facebook--or both. I don't know about that and at least want to read about it. I don't do Facebook but sometimes a friend will copy and send me something.

And the lawyer's undergrad degree was in political science. Wow--how can you possibly know all this? On election nights, when the analysts (who are wrong sometimes--like Karl Rove in 2008 or 2012--how fun was that?) have their colored maps up and they say--Bilbo will take the pink counties but Fracas will win the red ones. How do they know that?

My theory is, ever since Suffrage, and especially since Tevevision--the "cutest" candidate has won the Presidency. I told that to the Lawyer and he didn't want to believe me, but I think it is true. Somebody interviewed me after the 2016 election--I was one of 116 who had an unusual pattern of supporting with contributions the candidates in the final election, over the last three. Not based solely on looks--sometimes "Which of these two people could I stand to listen to, let alone look at for the next 4 years? Or sometimes, it comes down to wives--but not often. And who do I think is for real a better person--not just slick? And who is in it for his ego, or because it is expected of him, and who for the country?

Hope you are enjoying your standing on it's head Summertime.

Hugs,
Temple

Man does not live by cornbread alone; he needs some pork chops or at least some sorghum, as well. Sorghum molasses? You have no idea until you've had the real thing. You can feel your muscles expanding--there be iron in them there plants.

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