Happiness Needs Hope

It may be very small things that go right

Search if you need to

But find some things

Find one thing

Find any reason to 

Give Hope 

To

Happiness....
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Something to consider

A year or so ago I began to be concerned (and annoyed) when I frequently had headaches

 or commonly just felt 'off' 

 

Then I began to correlate it to the times I used various cleaning products.

I started to research 'old fashioned ways' of cleaning on the Internet and found a treasure trove!

As I migrated to nearly exclusive use of natural/non-toxic products the symptoms dissipated.

Then they disappeared all together.

(and I saved significantly on my shopping costs as a secondary bonus)

I didn't think a great deal more about the value (and far reaching impact) of these seemingly small changes in my cleaning routine and products common around the house until I noticed these articles:

In the NEW YORK TIMES by Diane Lewis is a physician and the founder of the Great Healthy Yard Project

and

In the Journal of Environmental Health Perspectives - 17 chemicals to avoid

I'm not (at all!) inclined to the 'chicken little/sky is falling' approach to life

but rather the 'do what is reasonable and live your life' approach to life.

Still, two facts stand tall - no doubt about it. Facts I share with you here, from my life:

1) I see a profound decrease in bees - they are in trouble (and science points to pesticides as an issue)

2) I have seen, currently see and fear for more cases of cancer than I even want to talk about say.

 

I know this isn't a happy, chirpy post, but I'd rather risk the down side of sharing such info *hopefully*

  you'll take a few moments to read these two articles and consider the possibility of using less (or no) chemicals in your home/garden/yard. 

Consider it for the bees, for the water, for your pets, for everything and everyone you love

Consider it for yourself....

If You Love Old House Rehab

 Things I keep meaning to tell you.....

I cut my teeth (and deepened my old house love and knowledge base) on the original episodes of This Old House. The years of the show when the old house owner was on a real/honest/not insane budget and did lots and LOTS of the work alongside the expert advice of Norm and Tom and the gang.  New England. Old but wonderful houses. People with (few) dollar(s) ~ just a hammer and a dream. A-maz-ing what I learned.

HGTV (still a wonderful and favorite channel) evolved. House flipping and massive alterations to old homes predominated the renovation shows. Even TOH evolved - still interesting and full of information but not as "grassroots".  Much less 'hey, this is my life!'  TOH and I didn't break up but we took time apart from each other, lol.  I am massively committed to accurate historic reno so I grew less addicted to renovation shows. To each his/her own but it saddened me to see so many old homes 'modernized'. 'Updated' to the point of no longer looking or feeling or preserving any 'age'. I skipped past many of them each week.

That all changed when I watched my first episode of  Rehab Addict with Nicole Curtis. All the reality of TOH with a woman calling the shots, rolling up her sleeves and dedicated to saving and renewing original detail whenever at all possible. (She even keeps a pile of original scraps and bits from each house on site for her contractors/herself to search first to use original wood, moldings AND to save money). She runs machinery, throws mortar, paints, rallies neighbors, saves original windows (by re-glazing) moves concrete - uber hands on without doubt and she loves each house. This is my kind of rehab!

So if you are/will/dream of (or have the periodic nightmare about, lol) renovating an old house to original charm or if you want to see some actually affordable tips to old house reno you would probably enjoy tuning in....

photo found at diy online

 Rehab Addict on diy (not a channel I have, so no details - sorry)

Rehab Addict on HGTV Ch 229 on Thursdays at 9pm 

And this Thurs 1/23/14 they are running old episodes at 7pm & 8 pm

before the new weekly episode at 9pm.

photo found at pintrest C.Steiner

One last thing I love about the show?

The show/houses/Curtis are located in MI - SNOW! COLD!

FROST HEAVE! FROZEN PIPES!

You need heat to PAINT!

(But it's 90 in the summer! lol)

Oh yeah, my rehab life roflmao....

PS no, I don't get a dime or a nod or a holler for this post

just honestly enjoy and knowing many of you have/love/hate/are interested

in old homes and rehab thought you may want to check out  :-)

Age, Social Security And AP

 

So lengthy the list, so many concerns that the world
holds to worry over...

 

The massive (and unexplained) right whale die off.
Perhaps only 500 remain.

(perhaps if we'd not allowed them to be whaled into near non-existence
as a society of humans they'd not now be imperiled)

An article published eight hours ago by AP exclaiming Social Security
and Medicare are quote: 'shifiting money from younger generations to older ones'

Perhaps it should be mentioned in the article just how many thousands of
dollars each working adult was obliged to pay into these programs
And now, much like a deposit bank account seek only to access those funds.
Not to live as royalty.
But to live modestly.
To avoid eating cat food
(did you know elders are one of the higher poverty groups)?

 

I wish the article would have mentioned that a large (and larger) portion
of each elders' Social Security payments are
dedicated to paying numerous taxes.

*school taxes (benefiting the young not the old)
*taxes for WIC and CHP (benefiting the young, not the old)

 

Monies that were deducted (from every single lifelong paycheck)
returned via Soc Sec payments pay county taxes and state taxes

for roadways, snow clearing, improvements
libraries, fire and police

Services that benefit young and older adults.
Some that benefit younger adults more.
Road use for example as non-retirees are on the roads more than retired adults.
Much of what Soc Sec payees continue to support with their small checks
assist young adults, building their lives, heading to work
shaping and living their lives as those, now older, did.

 

I deeply wish AP would have mentioned that those
who have reached the milestone of Soc Sec and Medicare
are simply (as promised) accessing  those funds
  demanded of them from a lifetime of paychecks.

The fact this current retiring generation is large means that
there is more need. It also means there was (for decade upon decade)
more taken in, gathered, collected, stockpiled than any other generation.
The math should work. We, the graying, had no control over how
the funds were managed, handled, invested, borrowed or otherwise controlled.

Getting older, being older, should not be a cause for blame.

We, inching our way closer to retirement who have done as demanded
paid and paid and paid. With the agreement it would be there for us at a
predetermined age. It shocks and wearies me to find AP (or any group)
pointing to the aging as the villains, harming the younger, by now being old.

Easy tho we are to 'blame'

 

These are the mornings, the days when I gather my camera and my thoughts

and walk among the trees and fields. The sprouting crops, the nesting birds.
The blooms.
 

No accusations are called out. The young animals move more quickly than the old.
Young mother cows, goats and birds feed their young. The older graze, looking on
now in a different phase of life.
Neither thinks itself better or worse, more or less of value.
They contentedly co-exist.

I love these acres, this farm, these truths.
The cycles of life are understood here.

No anger. 

Just each life taking its turn.

 

Every living thing grows older
Grows old
Grows weaker

Needs a bit of help

 

In animal nature, the younger of the herd, doesn't begrudge
the elders their share of green spring grass
or their spot in the shade of the trees in July.
Nor their place in the barn in the winter.
The elders don't blame the young that they will die
or become freezer food for winter. Or food bartered for firewood or
a tractor repair or seed or manure
for next spring.
 

How tragic it will be if that can not be said of humans. If the young and old do not each support the place in life that we both currently occupy without resentment.
 

In Patagonia they suspect that one of the reasons the right wales are dying
is because recently the gulls have taken to pecking (and consuming) the backs

of the right whales (adults and calves) when they rise for air.

There is no known reason the gulls do so. It's a new behavior.

There is enough food, enough space for the whales and the gulls according to
the marine biologists who study this cruel new gull behavior.

There is a proposition to kill the gulls

to save the right whale mothers and calves.

  

I worry. I hope.
For the right whales.

For the gulls.
For all ages of humans.

 

Right whales rise to breath air.
Gulls scavenge.
 Humans live a full life and grow older every day.
With luck we all do what nature intends and live a full life.

 

We're all part of the intertwined cycle.
Part of the circle.
None escape age.

 

I wish AP, journalists, communities, humans in general
would talk of and write about the entire journey of life.
Of compassion. Of seeking solutions rather than pitting
gulls against whales, young against old(er).

If only there were discussions regarding the full and entire truth.
Elder social support is essential because everyone is (eventually)
going to be older and move slower. Sleep more. See and hear less clearly.
Hope (and need) to step away from work
 (opening up a job for someone younger). 

There is a quote that says we are only as good, as worthwhile
as we treat animals, those in need, those weak, those young and helpless,

sick and infirm. To that I would add also, those of age.

 

Advanced age is a doorway each of you reading has walked thru
or is heading towards...
There is no sidestepping it.

Points to  ponder as we have the opportunity to influence
our government, our representatives.
Points to ponder as choices and votes on Soc Security and Medicare

are put forward. Decisions made now that will touch each of us.

  ~~~

Now I'm heading out with my camera to take some pictures
and find some peace.

 

Thanks for reading....

 

She Wondered

 

 

When she was eight, she'd wander down to the barn
And under the Summer sky she wondered
Of which is there more.....
Happy or Sad?

 

 

When she was twelve, she wondered
Of which is there more
Challenge or Ease?

 

 

When she was sixteen she wondered
Of which is there more
Pleasure or pain?

 

When she was twenty she wondered
Which was stronger....

Cruelty or kindness?

 

At thirty, she wondered (often)

Which was rewarded....
Honor or deceit?

 

At forty, she pondered
The meaning of life
The paths she'd chosen

(and the ones she hadn't)

 

By fifty she wondered
How she's arrived

Where she found herself

 

By sixty, seventy and eighty

Her hair grey, her stature shortened
Her heart weary ~ but full ~
She now spent her days knowing
There were no right nor wrong answers

No correct paths

No love unworthy of the pain of loss

No challenge unworthy of effort

 

She smiled to herself as she realized
She'd had all the answers at eight

There are happy days
There are sad days

 

There is it turned out
(all wondering aside)

Just the living of your life...

(Text by Issy Copyright 2013)

 

Ain't it the truth?

  Again and again I am reminded

of one of the simple complexities

that is the key to living life well:

"Some luck lies
 in not getting
what you thought you wanted
but getting what you have,
which once you have got it
you may be smart enough to see
 is what you would have wanted
had you known". 

Garrison Keillor

OR

As the Rolling Stones lyrics wisely mention  :-)

'You can't always get what you want,
no, you can't always get what you want
but if you try sometimes
 you just might find,
you get what you need'

IT'S A GREAT LIFE (if you don't read forwards lol)

 There are days when I wonder why I am (not if I am lol) so neurotic...

The news did its part till I simply stopped watching it. No weather alert app either!

I'm decluttering (well, sort of - for me anyway). Love love LOVE my things, but
I'm far more discerning in regard to what stays and what's allowed in (well, mostly) :-)

Then the other day I discovered another culprit of anxiety - the 'warning' emails.
I know in my heart, mind and soul they are sent with the best of intentions - but
as I was weeding thru my emails I was amazed to see all the beware in my in-box! (I think I could hear Robbi the robot chanting 'danger Will Robinson, DANGER')***

Here are a few of my favorites as I was deleting my way thru them:
1) No lemon slices in my water/tea - worry over bacteria on the lemons
2) No sitting on any hotel bedspreads - when were they (ever) washed????
3) No handshaking with drivers - seems some pick nose when driving.
4) No touching the bottom of any purse! Could've sat on a public toilet floor.
5) No licking envelopes, and wipe all food cans! Rat poo in the glue & on cans.
6) No deodorants? (not going without, but now I worry, lol) possible carcinogen.
7) No longer do I chug a cold Coca Cola without thinking it removes toilet stains.
8) No more cling wrap in the microwave-causes seven kinds of cancer.
9) No using a public toilet - a big snake could be under the seat and bite my butt.
10) My favorite? If I don't tell at least 500,000 people all these things (via email forward) in 46.2 minutes a pigeon with diarrhea will hover over me at noon tomorrow afternoon and not only poo on me but also deposit the fleas from 120 alpachas on my body giving me Lyme disease.

Sigh......

THIS JUST IN! 

Keep your toothbrush in the kitchen because email says

that toilet water splashes six feet from the toilet.

 

~~~~

To be honest, some of what comes via email
in fact some of these above :-) are worth considering.
But for sure too much 'careful' can kill ya (from worry)
just as surely as not being careful will, lol

 

So tell me, what's you're favorite 'email-forwarded-be-careful' alert?

 

 

If I Had To Choose

 

 

If I named a daughter

If I got a word tattooed
If I had a wish, a cherished thing
That I would want for you

If I could count the value
Of only just one thing
One alone that mattered
Far more than other things

Where there a time
When only one
Emotion could I feel
If I had to winnow down
To one in my souls' kreel

 

A name, a tatoo, wish or gift
A value point ascribed
A sole and lone emotion
To be my only guide?

It'd take me just one heartbeat
To choose (If you asked me)
The answer to each one's the same.
HOPE

Is what it'd be .... 

(text copyright Issy aka woman seeking center 1/2013)

What Wars Are Raging....

Have compassion for everyone you meet even when they don’t want it.

 

What seems conceit or bad manners or cynicism

is often a sign of things no ears have heard, no eyes have seen.

 

You do not know what wars are going on 

where the spirit meets the bone.
 

Miller Williams

Messages Are Where You Find Them (or they find you)!

You can't control the weather

You can adjust the set of your sails 

 

Years and years ago at I time when nothing seemed within my control, within my say I came across a sign. A simple plastic sign. A sailing ship on a rugged bit of sea, sails filled with wind, moving it forward.

The quote above  emblazoned across the bottom.

 

You know, one of those odd times when great truth is discovered in a truly unlikely place. Fate had a point to make. Something to tell me.

Fate is a clever (and strange) lady...

 

I stood, staring at this extruded plastic, made by the thousands, sold cheap, never to be seen on  an HGTV decorator show (lol) sort of sign. Within minutes it (this one of thousands) was mine. I hung it
where I could view it at least once every day. It's message from fate/karma/the universe to me arrived at a time when my heart and spirit were adrift. I desperately needed answers.

 

Voila!
There it was, delivered in all its plastic glory.
 

It hangs still.
Always will.
Where I can see it at least once each day.

Because life  never becomes simple.

And I'll always be happiest if I remember I can choose to adjust
Adjust what I think, what I do, what I cease to do, the way I view things
 

I'd meant to tell you about this because, just possibly, its a message from fate that will help you too.

Thankfulness And Expectations

Thanksgiving.
The word, the concept and the holiday.
Each are seemingly straightforward (one would think).
One would be wrong.

Because amid the gray Thursdays, black Fridays, cyber Mondays and Plaid Saturdays
I put forward the possibility that we've grown a bit lost. And not only on
holiday-shopping-extravaganza-days....

 

There's no part of me that doesn't enjoy shopping, lol
For food or fun or vintage or material or (fill in the blank, lol)

And yet....and yet...

I can't escape the sound of chewing upon on the edge of my mind that says
"what about what you already HAVE"?

 

It seems endemic that the moment we 'have it' (whatever it may be)

it's counted as a given, irrevocable, permanent. No need to be

thankful for things one already possesses...Or is there?

Isn't that one of the foundation stones of Thanksgiving? Of life?

 

Life has shared with me that one of her profound truths is the transitory nature of everything.

Life itself, possessions, dreams, hopes, failure, success, power, health, weakness.
All things change, alter.
Yet it's so common within our society to expect what we have will remain the same.

One of the astounding, ever-present, beautiful and 'oft distressing aspects
of farm life is the dynamic day to day illustration precisely how life alters, changes.

Crops grow. Crops fail. Animals live and die. Hawks soar, animals they overfly become dinner. Winter snow and Summer rains become water in the well to sustain life for all on the farm.

 

There are times things go wrong. Things change.

Not enough water, not enough sun. Animal illness. Human illness. Insufficient firewood. It's perhaps easier to remain in touch here on this land,  depending upon nature and chance to see the truth that food, warmth, ease and contentment are not a 'given', not secured. Not permanent. Not by any amount of work or money or intention or hope. There are times things go wrong.

 

Those thoughts, the realities that I see all thru the year instigated the chewing, the wondering at the edges of my mind if it isn't important on Thanksgiving (and every day) to be thankful for the things we oh-so-casually are inclined to think of as permanent.

Because permanent is a word and an illusion, but is rarely if ever a truth or a fact.

 

I have never been desperately hungry or cold.
I have never been without decent clothing.

I have never been without a shower or tub.

I've never faced war or personal violence.

I have, thus far, had more to be thankful for

 than I tend to think of as often or deeply as I should.
I shouldn't think of any of these (or my other comforts and joys)
as permanent, as irrevokable as unchangeable, should I?

 

What I desire, what I seek can overshadow or eclipse

what I have if I don't pay attention.

 

Hey, I don't believe gray, black, cyber and plaid days can't coexist with thankfulness. I simply plan to remind myself things are not the foundation of Thanksgiving, nor of happiness, nor of life.

 

A Curious Truth

“I am glad that I paid so little attention to good advice.

Had I abided by it I might have been saved from some of my most valuable mistakes.”

Edna St Vincent Millay

Which Is Funnier?

Question:

What could possibly be funnier than watching a woman
who has chosen to run to the mailbox  in her flamingo pants,
white sox and untied shoes  in the pouring rain?

My flamingo pants.
Often worn for long sessions
 of book writing
( or pizza eating)

Answer:

Watching her run back, full speed when she hears a car coming!

(sometimes I am too dumb for words, lol)



Fear

Part of the farm woodlands

I've spent a great deal of time since buying the farm, arriving battled and broken, pondering emotions. Fear is one of them. Such a primal emotion, so intense and undying if left to it's own devices. It has an endless and ever-evolving lifespan. How easy it is to step from one fear to the next. And if by some fluke there's no immediate panic of you own you'll soon be presented with a variety via news, public place conversation, family, coworkers, friends. Often well meaning yet (IME) devastating to quality of life if absorbed on a steady, frequent basis.

There is a vast difference between people sharing difficult worry or events, discussing options, comforting one another, seeking solutions and the general, ongoing fear I'm refering to. What is odd about most fear that obsesses people if allowed to (myself included) is that it isn't personal event related. Rather it's woven of vague possibilities or lack of control - brought to attention by politics or commercials or facebook or weather stations or newspapers or such. Worst of all this sort of fear seems to reject any and all possible solution.

Like an itch that can't be scratched away, fear seems to endlessly replicate and as humans we drift (in many instances) towards allowing it to sit in the drivers seat - either by ignoring possible options - or if no solution is visible - letting it grip us rather than resist the damage it inflicts.

I know - I do. For years it ruled me with wild abandon. I'd hate to count the cumulative time I allowed it to steal from me (thinking of the potentially calm or happy hours it consumed) because I allowed it to. Handed it the keys. Opened the door to the drivers side of my mind. Then I seated myself in the passenger seat. As fear floored it, speed racing with my mind, dodging truth, avoiding solutions, hanging two wheels off the cliff edge of sanity, I remained in the passenger seat (without even buckling my seatbelt).

When the farm and I found each other people began to share with me how fearful they were that it was an ill advised idea (the farm) sharing their (well intentioned) fears. I was afraid. My checkbook was scared sh*tless. Banks and insurance companies were hysterical. Complete strangers feared for me (and shared their fears with me). I sensed I had to choose. Choose between giving the 'drivers keys' to fear and sitting meekly thru endless wild rides in my mind. OR I could begin to drive myself - at least some of the time. I chose the latter and it was, I hate to admit, a good deal more difficult to do than to say. As I began repairing the farm, putting her back together, I was determined to rebuild myself. Repairing both of us, to better than when we'd started  .

I began to watch less  (eventually little to no) news.  Cancelled the paper. Saw less of (or paid less heed to)  those who 'feared for me and my choices'. Because after all, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Tho the best help to me EVER in controlling fear (and I'd have it tatooed if I weren't a wimp, lol) is:  if you keep doing the same thing you've always done, you'll continue to get the same results you've always gotten.  Brilliant and true! I added new behaviours to combat fear, about something actual or imagined. When I'd wake up in the night in a cold sweat I'd make lists, look for solutions, beat fear back with a stick. I'd choose and try something, ANYthing to defeat what I was fearing because action IS control - results aside - doing SOMEthing is better than nothing (another newsflash for me, lol).

Little by little I gained ground against fear, useless lout that he is. At  least now he had to ASK for the keys. It was a start.  In the weeks, months and years that followed I began to teach myself to carefully choose (or avoid when appropriate) fear inducing interactions/events/input. Again I must stress, I'm not refering to listening or sharing real life concerns or problem solving but rather the vague-y, dark cloud-y, soap opera-ish, stock market-y, pharmaceutical-y, insurance-ish, chickenlittle-y sort of fear.

These days, I struggle still. Part of life. Part of living. Part of growing.
(what's that saying? If you're not a little afraid you need to try something new! lol)
But more days are calm, productive, content.  More hours are spent seeking solutions than worrying in a circle of indecision. More nites are filled with tired well earned sleep.

Best of all, while I haven't gotten fear out of the car altogether, I do have him locked in the trunk....

So many emotions in life - so many good ones. 
Try to move fear to the bottom of the list (or into the trunk!) whenever you can.

There Are Blue Fish Flying In My Woods

I learned (quite early in my life) that I was drawn to, amused by, valued, and required things that were quite different from most other people I knew - something that has not changed. Except perhaps to have become moreso over the decades.

Teachers fretted (in writing even!) that I was too much of a loner. Counselors feared for me as I was too much of a day-dreamer (I was moved to the front row AWAY from the windows - often - to deter daydreaming lol).Gym teachers feared I was too thin and non-athletic (I still despise mandated exercise but continue to outlast anyone in any physical demand or event that intrigues me or needs to be accomplished by my hands).

I have always held close to my heart: nature, spirits, crows, signs, messages, karma, the woods and the sea. I've a fondness for unicorns and mermaids, truth be told. Frogs, crickets, owls are friends of mine. I struggle with humanity as a whole. I trust slowly. People I grow to trust and love have my fondness and my loyalty forever.

See? Not so much of the common/average/expected in my personality weave.

Quirky is a descriptor often connected to me in conversations.

And that pleases me - because being who you are is both a skill and an adventure - and with luck endures thru your entire existence. Who would I be now if I'd attempted to alter myself to please or appease the teachers, gym coaches, associates, acquaintances, neighbors, strangers, family, clients,  (tho well meaning many were in their concern and advice)....

These days, when I walk my acres at the farm and arrive at the place where all the blue fish hang I think of the day I hung them there. Swimming in air, high on a hill, hundreds of miles from the sea. I pause. I smile. Without doubt, not unlike my 'woodland blue-fish' I've always been different, yet exactly who I wanted to become, exactly who I was meant to be.

And if I were to wish for one gift for friend and foe alike it would be to seek, find, and be true to their own blue fish, swimming in air, amid their own woods....

I'd Meant To Tell You #3

Remember my pot(ty)ing shed adventure!?

Update! It now has a new tin roof....

Cute as a bug and one step closer to

becoming my curious little farm-history-preserved
potting/garden tool shed, lol

Quirky isn't the exception
it's the RULE in my kingdom, lol

I'd Meant to tell you #2

The other day

(I beg you not to query which or what
day it was for I'm I'm 'oft found unable to pin
the proper 'day-name to a given moment in time)

It's my favorite way for time to be - full yet unconfined....

So, the other day while pulling and preening images of the farm

which comprise the pages to the book of my life here I found this shot.
Tucked amid the curious & heartwarming & harsh & comforting &

the immediate of my now within
the ever-long-reaching timeline of the farm herself
I found this image.

It's an oddly angled shot of the farms' coffin door and her main door
A picture I took in the very early days after my arrival.
Odd. Not the finest composition nor quality.
 This image has filtered past my vision more times that I could recall

It's a simple unassuming shot

The other day, for reasons I have learned not to question
it had something to say.

Something to tell me

as it appeared yet again

as it hovered dutifully before me

It struck me as somehow different.

What I knew instinctively is that the image was no different than ever it has been.

What I've come to understand (because farm taught and I listened ~ eventually)
is that I have changed & with that I am able to see, to connect, to understand,

to grasp the message within this image...

What I'd meant to tell you is

that this picture so long ago captured
reminded me there are almost always

two doors to choose from

One door you may desire ~ the other not a bit

One may call to you, yet you find it locked

It may be you enter one door
only to exit from the door opposite

You could go in one door and exit from neither....

And there's even the possibility of

hovering between
the two doors
lost in evaluation

or frozen in fear

considering options
and outcomes
looking for some guarantee

Options require choices
Choices are 'oft neither simple nor clear
Evaluation and Fear should  not
Be confused, one for the other

This pictures's been patiently waiting
to tell me or perhaps remind me
of all of these things

And I'd meant to tell, to share, with you...

Text and Image by FIDF Copyright 2012

I'd Meant To Tell You (the backstory)

It's a peculiar habit of mine
to think of
the one thing more 
I'd meant to tell you
after the fact

Invariably it occurs to me
at the exact moment I've just:
1) sent the email
2) hung up the phone*,

3) posted the blog entry

4) et al...

Peculiar, possibly endearing,

possibly annoying
but either way
something that's hard-wired into my being.

Hence it's seemingly appropriate there'd
eventually be a a blog tag and blog titles
that reflect and delineate

my quirk-related 'Oh! I meant to' bits
that wander into the station of my mind
 after the train has already pulled out

So, when you notice the title or tag
I'd meant to tell you # ___

 you now know the back story, lol

* I do actually remember when one
hung up the (corded) phone
as opposed to turning it off,

pushing the end call button
or placing the handset back
in the charging stand
(with such admissions I admit
that I may indeed be inching my way
closer towards being classified as
older than the dinosaurs, lol)