Ramblings

 “Vindictive people often try to draw others into their world.”  - Advice of Today

No one to talk to?  So talk to the page.  Write.  You love to write.   Your failure to produce a writing of substance, and to share it widely, is your own damned fault.  But it’s not too late.  But you just have to focus on a topic and audience.  It’s like the mission statement of a project plan.  I am not good at maintaining a focus.  Except that I like to write.

My writing mentors in this life were: Oliver Caldwell Biddle and Frederick C. Ballard, Sr.  Both partners at Ballard Spahr Andrews and Ingersoll, where I worked as a litigation paralegal for a few years. I was right out of school, like 22 years old.  Fred Ballard mentored young lawyers in the firm in the craft of writing.  Oliver challenged me to write a Memo of Fact for a petition for certiorari to the U.S. Supreme Court. I also worked with David L. Cohen and Helen Pudlin, but with them I was slave labor. Fred and Oliver saw me a a resource worth developing.

I could publish a book of shorts.  Short essays or stories on one particular topic.  I already have a lot of these in this blog.  Those newly arrived senior citizens will be the audience.  Turning 70 hit me hard.

I don’t pay much attention to the political narrative.  I’ve given up on that.  I hear…. Israel/Gaza, Iran, Taiwan/China, the Biden show, MAGA nonsense, christian issues (they seem to have a lot of them…. How about Live and Let Live?).

Tucker split, ignored his contract, and immediately started his own show. There has been no consequence that is publicly known about why this was allowed to happen.  Whey didn’t his employer go after him?

Bad dream this morning.  Was at 222 with Vicki. She was looking at the HBO and Netflix movies, and deciding what she wants for breakfast.  Eggs and scrapple.  But I have no scrapple.  She tells me I can just run to the store to buy some.  That thought, that exertion, shuts me down and I physically collapse.

I walk into the kitchen. There is a tile floor, with  12 x 12 beige squares. There is a cut and a deep hole in one of the tiles.  And then, in 2 or 3 tiles.  And then, two hole tiles are GONE with deep shafts descending into darkness.

I wake up.  End of dream.

Betsy sent me a card.  “Thinking of You”  “I know your relationship sucked, but I also know it doesn’t mean a myriad of emotions will likely visit these next days.  Embrace each one of them and know it’s Okay.  Xo”

Do I blog the mother story? Or do I just leave it alone and bury it?  Well, I don’t think it is appropriate to relate the story here, publicly.  So I won’t.

So how the hell will I get myself (and all my animals and material things worth keeping) to Roanoke?  I just cannot envision where I would live…. House, in-law suite, condo, townhouse, apartment, senior living village or facility.  I just can’t vision it yet.  Make a list of the obstacles.  Then develop a plan to overcome each.  Just thought of one as I sit here:  Callie the calico cat - can be Shelle’s responsibility to take home.  One down, ? To go….  I need to have the steps laid out in my head before proceeding. And I must KNOW who I can depend on for support

Contribution. What contribution can I make?  I can cook.  I can do the bookkeeping. I know alot about natural health options and practices. I make and distribute colloidal silver to those in want or need.