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Showing posts from April, 2020

The Underdog

In March of 1987, it was a Wednesday morning at about ten o’clock, I was off from work. My doctor said he’d meet me in a gym. I had a ten mile race on that Saturday, March 14 th , down in Atlantic City. I had been suffering with back pain that crippled me after a ten mile race a prep-race in Lynn, Massachusetts just about ten days before. I expected to race well then; but ran into some trouble as I slid on ice going down a hill. A man grabbed me as I was sliding headfirst into a tree. I ended up finishing a disappointing 4 th place female and the birth defect no one knew I had reared its ugly head, once again. I drove home in agony for nearly four hours. During the week, one of my bosses saw how crippled I looked as I walked by his office doorway. He inquired. He then suggested I see his doctor. So, I did. I explained to the doctor, ‘I was trying to run through this. I’ve hurt my back many times before. I was told never to run again 18 months ago. Just go have babies…’ I ex

I am Here...

I am Here… As I watched the beautiful buds the past few weeks glow and grow... I pondered thoughts as I meandered my body outside, alone feeling March had been February through April. I heard a high amount of birds chirping and life in this winter. It seemed uncanny. Yet, with my nightmares and dreams that at times collage during sleep... They tell me intuitive truths. Will we ever listen to the sounds of the earth screaming for our attention? I ponder, nearly every day of my life, that question. I am a tree hugger, born and living in New Jersey...Not the most tree-hugger of states. But yet, that is where I reside, and have with few exception for most of my nearly six decades of life here on earth. I yearn for clean air. I see the despicable things us humans do with very little thought to this miraculous wondrous thing we call earth. We make excuses to pollute beyond what is necessary. We get offended when someone points this out to us. Some claim, there are other worries

A First Time ...For Everything

A First Time...For Everything Every day I ask our kids about their day.   Their schoolwork. Their work. General daily things. They are teenagers, so I know only to ask once with one and twice with the other.   Everyone is different.   The one who doesn’t want to be asked more than twice, didn’t realize till today why I revel in her accomplishments.   I thought both our daughters knew how I felt about their school accomplishments. However, not completely. So today, I found out something interesting. As some may know me, I don’t post pictures of our children on social media, nor do I print their names on social media. Why?   Because my pages, my posts are not for me to expose them to a world that is my world. I will put up general groups of pictures of the children’s sports, concert group pics, perhaps. I will note something funny they stated, but not use their name. It is their privacy I am respecting and protecting. I asked our oldest if something had been accomplished

About Vietnam

About Vietnam ‘Food and shelter. Food and Shelter and someone is dying for me. Food and Shelter. Food and Shelter, and someone is dying for me’. That is what I awoke to at five after one this morning. The words that came out of my mouth, after I prayed, hoping all was well in my household. Of course, I arose and checked every person and every room in our homes. My natural action, of course. I knew what made me rise, even though I’d only had a little more than a three hour sleep. It was my creative mind that woke me up. I thought at first, that it was something more serious. Not to say my creative mind is not. After checking on everyone, I lay back in bed at eighteen minutes after one. There was comfort, yet a discomfort that sat in my mind. It was the question, ‘Am I thinking differently than others, right now? If so, why?’ I thought as I lay in bed. I prayed, figuring the answer would arrive. I wondered, ‘Was God wanting me to get up and write?   Was this my only time? Wh


Hope  My Mother went into labor as her and my Dad were watching Bob Hope's monologue. They thought I would be a boy. They were to name me David. However, they named me after some little girl they met in Texas in 1957. Lost touch as they moved back to New Jersey. Many years later, my Mother then becoming ill. As I was age eleven trying to comfort her, she said, "We should have named you Hope. Because that's what you bring." Kind of a neat story.

I get high on my own air supply...

I get high on my own air supply The other day I decided to venture out, some distance from our home to shop alone for fresh produce. Hoping to be able to buy some more eggs. Eggs to me are very precious. In the past as a child.   If, you had eggs in the house you were rich. You got to eat them, scrambled, fried, boiled, poached, sunny-side up, etc.. You were king. There was much I didn’t know about eggs till I was about age ten. The nutritional part, was then somehow shown to me. I cannot for the life of me remember why.   But by age ten, I saw one egg stretched out with milk on my plate per week. The question came to me, 'what do you do when you run out of milk?' For Christmas one year around age eleven I believe, I received a little thin cookbook on making omelets. And by the time I became a teenager, every Saturday or Sunday I had enough eggs in the house to make myself a one or two egg omelet. Soon, we had the ‘Great Cholesterol’ Scare. If you’re old enou

Where the Deer and the Fox...

Where the Fox and The Deer… As the sun rose this morning.   I looked out the window and wondered what I could do before I write and do some exercises, then study and do research I decided to bake something. I was uncertain whatit would be. Yet, I had this three month old bag of granny smith apples sitting in my fridge. They were still good. Not a mark, not a bruise on them. I don’t like wasting. So, I knew it would be apple something. As I washed then peeled the apples, I glanced then looked out our kitchen window to our yard. I saw seven or more deer playing chase, which I’ve seen a few do or a couple. However, never this many. They appeared to be having fun. There was no distress in the air nor in their movements. Then I saw the doe who’d been injured about eight weeks ago.   She had a scar, but she was fine. Running, nibbling at the ground. Her gallop was not hindered.   She was the most mature of all the deer in our yard this morning. So, she appeared to mother and c

The kids who worked in my office...

The kids in my office… As I arose this morning, thanking, praying and doing stretches and ROM exercises in bed quietly… I reminisced when I had high schoolers and some college kids working in my office. It was so long ago. I would say, easily fifteen years ago. Those kids ages sixteen to twenty-one were many and were for the most part good kids. I think about them often. And to say so, is quite accurate. I wondered this morning why they had always been on my mind over the years, as I had older people hired here and there. I think it is because I am fascinated, yet proud that they worked for me.   Some were three hours a week, some were ten hours a week.   I flowed with whatever hours they could work.   Most of them went on to college and were incredibly successful. I think about sixteen of them, there were: MACS, Evan, Kate, Jenn, Britta, Sandy, Nikki, Alice, Tracey, Meghan, Edith, Melissa, Lauren, Lauren Alysson,   Jenna,   Three were sisters from Midland Park. I had a mi