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Bread With Some Butter. . .
Bread With Some Butter. . . Drive as though your life depended on your driving. Because many drive as though they never give life thought, least of all yours. ***** We know that empty promises still carry the hint of hope. Because who knows for sure. ***** Man has made his bed and he…
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Because I Chose You. . .
Thank You For Choosing Me As Your Parent. . . . . For those who think Eve was an afterthought of Adam, give some time to this disclosure as to her purpose for humanity. Perhaps this should be included in our thinking when we discuss the competition and jealousies which plague the genders.…
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Observation Expert. . .
The only thing I am an expert on is being an old lady. I am not a vet nor a dog trainer, nor a whisperer. What I am is an expert in observing; people as well as sentient life, or not sentient. I have seen God in a Rock. So be it. What I…
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No Place To Go. . .
No Place To Go. . . .the children have to grow up. . . . As I look back on things, as we are apt to do when we wish to make sense out of a life that at times held little, I find more things connect. Yet small incidents were crucial for the larger…
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Worlds I know. . .
The psychiatrist sat at his desk in that small office and said tell me what you see when you go down Michigan Avenue. Everything? I asked. Everything, he said. I closed my eyes and began. When I was finished he whistled through his teeth. You know, he said, others don’t see what you see. …
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When A Thing Is Good. . . habits
When St. Paul had his experience on the road to Damascus, it unnerved him so that he took a year off from his preaching to recover. He of course had his groupies waiting on him. When my world crashed and I was hospitalized, the doctors asked me to speak to a large room…
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I Had Earned The Right. . .
Events take on proportion that surprise even us who experienced the event. Wondering why in looking back they were significant to us when to others they would be a non event. But to us they often are a turning point, a point of growth and in that who we are now or what we…
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Tracks. . .
Tracks. . . Check on that for me and find out whether the tracks are a rabbit’s tracks. See if in the new snow they lead under the porch. It has been such an old house for so long, even I think, when it was first built. It has seen with eyes blinking…
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This Is Our Planet Earth. . . love her. . .
photo by Joe Hallissey Jr.
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We Don’t Junk Humans. . .
We Don’t Junk Humans. . . People will always question the validity of one’s commitments and one’s purpose. When I am questioned I can only say I see what is mine to see. Regardless though of the mental and emotional garbage one carries, there is always what someone does that has a redeeming value. We…