Life after Summer

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Having lived north of the Mason-Dixon line for most of my life, where Labor Day marks the end of summer, it was always a bittersweet time of year.  We would squeeze in the last few weekends at the lake while watching the changing colors of the leaves. Fall mornings were greeting us with crisp air leaving a promise of winter’s soon arrival. All the years I spent in the South, still found me in the same frame of mind even though the winters there were mild and short.

My move to the Southwest has however turned my love of the seasons upside-down. Labor Day weekend still marks the end of summer but now the promise if of many months of almost perfect weather.

A sign that we have once again lived through the heat of the Arizona sun. Countless days of sunshine and temperatures which cause people to faint during normal activities.

The patio furniture will now be in full use.  The outdoor grills will be set ablaze and not by the relentless sun. We will spend countless hours outdoors enjoying every minute. We will even be able to walk across the sidewalk without burning our bare feet.

After three months of complaining about the heat, we now are at peace with nature. The beautiful days remind us of why we endured the heat.

People ask me if I miss the snow. I reply on occasion. On those occasions, if need be, I am only a couple hours away from romping in the snow, only to come back home to perfect weather.

With that said,  I raise my Margarita in saying goodbye to the Arizona summer and welcome the blissful days of fall, winter, and spring.  “To life after summer, Arizona style!”

 

 

Dinosaur or a Scholar

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So many stories between these few photos, I can hardly remember all of them. From time to time I try to share a bit of wisdom I have stored away, either from learning the hard way or a true life experience with a happy ending.

This morning I started to think of why I bother? I had to admit to myself; I never listened to older people when I was growing up.  I believe I remember thinking, ‘just because it happened to them doesn’t mean it will happen to me.” I prefer not to think of myself as a dumbass and more naive, but honestly, dumbass fits better.

Naive and just plain dumb luck. Was it the times we lived in or is the younger generation living on the same life plan? At least I had a checkbook and knew how to balance the account when I was sixteen.  And I still write in cursive. I’m either a dinosaur or a scholar.

I suppose I will continue to write from time to time regarding lessons learned during my lifetime, if only for a trip down memory lane for myself. I’m probably naive thinking someone might take something away from one of my stories. Or maybe it will be just plain dumb luck that a reader will learn something.

I suppose one day, one of my readers will be telling another generation of how they lived through crashing their car while texting. Or how a long time ago people used their phones to scan their boarding passes before flying on an airplane.

Speaking of planes, a long time ago we could fly student stand and fly just about anywhere we wanted for little or no charge. The military had first choice.  Spent many a day at Chicago O’Hara airport waiting on a seat to get home from someplace. But that’s another story.

 

 

 

 

 

Integrity

A simple word with so much meaning.

in·teg·ri·ty

noun: integrity

the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness.

“he is known to be a man of integrity”

synonyms: honesty, probity, rectitude, honor, good character, principle(s), ethics, morals, righteousness, morality, virtue, decency, fairness, scrupulousness, sincerity, truthfulness, trustworthiness

 

Now some food for thought.  Scenario: You are in charge of hiring personnel for a company. Two people apply for the same position.  The first person you interview happens to be the child of a long time friend. This child you have known for years and knew for a fact has been caught in many lies and unlawful activities. However, with good lawyers and a healthy bank account, they have always gone unpunished for their deeds.

The second interviewee you know nothing about, a complete stranger. They have good references and seems like an honest person.  They have never held a job as important as the one which they are being considered.  However, either has the first prospect.

You consider yourself a person with integrity; honest, of good character, fair and have never been in trouble. If you hire your friend’s child, can you still consider yourself as a person of integrity, or have you lost your values?

My mother always told me ‘birds of a feather, flock together,’ meaning no matter how good, honorable, truthful, or decent you may be, if you socialize with people that do not have the same values, you will be considered one of them.

What am I leading up to here? In my opinion, we have become a nation with no integrity. Lead by people with no principles who only know how to lie when they are caught doing or saying something illegal or unethical. Which only leads to more lies.

We have accepted new rules of wrongdoing. Excuses of ‘someone else did it too,’ ‘I didn’t know,’ ‘I misspoke’, and any other lame excuse that might come to mind has become tolerable.  As a nation, we overlook, forget about, and make light of wrongdoings. Lying about one’s behavior has become standard, even if videos are proving otherwise.

I’m not sure when this downward spiral of morals began, but I certainly have seen it not only get worse in my lifetime but since the 1990s it seems as if we are on a runaway train. From our Commander in Chief to some of our Olympic athletes, where has integrity gone?

I saw a post on Facebook the other day that said, “Integrity: doing the right thing when no one is watching.” It is so much more than that.

Are you willing to sacrifice your integrity to go with the flow? Can you stand up to wrong if it means giving up something or someone? Or will you just make excuses to cover up the wrong?

Get Your Kicks

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I spent this past weekend in and around Williams, Arizona, taking myself down memory lane. As my husband and I spent Saturday evening walking along the main street in Williams which is US 66. If you are old enough to remember anything earlier than 1964, you probably remember the television show and where you get your kicks.

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Sixty-one years ago, my family set out on a grand adventure in the family car, a robin’s egg blue and white 1954 Chevy. I was five years old. Although I do not remember leaving on the big trip, I do know that we were living in Fort Smith, Arkansas at the time.  The trip was more of a fact-finding mission instead of a vacation, as daddy had been offered a job in California.  My parents wanted to see the country and decide if they wanted to live in the Golden State.

My parents made the trip fun, and we took the time to see the sights. I do remember seeing the Grand Canyon, Indians (back in the days when we didn’t need to say Native Americans) in Teepees selling Indian jewelry,  and a big hole in the ground which daddy explained had been made by a meteor falling from the sky. I remember the Petrified forest with no trees, just big rocks lying around. I believe somewhere in a box I still have a small piece of petrified wood that my brother picked up. I hope the statue of limitations has passed on that incident.

I don’t remember much about California other than daddy’s friend said not to waste the money going to Disneyland. It had just opened, and the friend said Knoxberry Farms was much nicer.

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Yes, we rode the train, and it was robbed! The desperados took my brother’s watch! His watch was returned to the depot. We also rode the stage coach. This Annie Oakley wannabe was having the time of her life.

To be honest, I don’t remember if we saw the sights on our way to California or on our way back East. I do know we only stayed three days before my daddy had enough of the traffic, stating he wouldn’t want to live in a such a crowded place.

As we walked along Route 66 Saturday evening, looking at the souvenirs in the little shops, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the generations that followed me. The interstate systems replaced the old roads leaving only small pieces of the great American highway. The roadway that helped form this country and carried many dreams. Those people will never now the excitement of finding a roadside park to eat lunch and stretch your legs. The fun of reading Burma Shave signs. Passing the time and the miles reading license plates. No not personalized plates but seeing where the car was licensed.

The roads were narrow, and travel was slower. People actually took the time to stop, look at things and places. There was no speeding along at eighty miles per hour back then. There were no cell phones,  no GPS and certainly no electronic devices to keep us kids entertained. Just miles and miles of looking out the window and wondering if we were there yet.

Yes, I did get my kicks on Route 66 this past Saturday, with beautiful memories of a great childhood, and a trip never to be forgotten.

 

 

You’ve Got to be Kidding Me!

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I was snoozing away, while my husband read when he finally turned his Kindle off. He rolled into me and snuggled. A routine for this early riser woman and hardly ever sleeps, man.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I moaned as a deafening beep blasted from the bedroom’s smoke detector. If you were thinking something else, that would be a different story.

We both laid there hoping it was just a fluke, and the detector was back to sleep. But, oh no! Again the thing damn thing sounded again. Don’t get me wrong; I’m thankful for the little invention that has saved so many lives. We have on in every room. A little overkill in my opinion but they were there when we bought the house, so I keep batteries in all of them. I just don’t understand why the batteries always die between two and four in the morning. I swear they watch, waiting until we are sound asleep before their last spark had died.

By the third obnoxious beep, we are throwing covers off, and telling the two quivering dogs to get off the bed. One would expect this if I had two teacup poodles but I have a seventy-two and an eighty-nine Goldendoodle and Labradoodle. They are scared to death of the smoke detector noise. Neither one will move. I finally have to push them off the bed so that I may move.

My husband is up, cursing a blue streak at the detector, Dogs are back on the bed quivering when I realize our bedroom is the one with the vaulted ceilings. Couldn’t be the detector in the hallway or the other bedrooms where only a step ladder will be needed for the battery replacement. More cursing!

The two sissy dogs are all but glued to my every step. Husband returns from the shop, “Where in the hell is our ladder?” More shaking from the dogs because they know daddy’s upset voice.

Explaining that I thought he was going to the shop for the very tall garage ladder, he explains, “No, your ladder.” (My ladder because I bought it especially for myself when I was painting our old house.)

“Oh, it’s in the garage.” Making a move towards the garage door with two large dogs attached to you is not an easy task. The four of us make it out into the garage in one little cluster.  I do manage to hold the door open and hold the dogs back so that Kevin can carry the ladder into the house, through the kitchen, living room, down the hallway and into the bedroom. With every step, the damn beeping is getting louder and louder. Dogs are now about to shake the hair off their backs and panting in fear of the monster that blasts the ear-shattering noise.

After several attempts to make the dogs stay on the bed and out of the way, we managed to unfold the ladder.  After more cursing, the battery was replaced. Peace and quiet spread throughout the house. Well, except for the explanation of how much Kevin hates the smoke detectors and the still shaking dogs.

Thirty minutes later, we all climb back into bed. Kevin is back to sleep within minutes, while I’m left to comfort the still panting dogs and wonder why it seems these things always happen in the middle of the night?

Of course, I was wide awake at my usual six o’clock. I feel a long day coming on.

 

Stuck in a Quagmire

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The winds of sadness and stress blew through my life this past few months, scattering my creative thoughts in too many directions. It would seem that every time I tried to sit down to gather my thoughts, life would brew up another storm cloud. Try as I might, every time I sat down to put words to paper, my mind just wouldn’t allow this to happen. I didn’t feel stuck in a dark place, but stuck in a quagmire of no productivity. Even my attempt to edit what I had already written of my next book didn’t help. I found no interest there either.

I even thought about ditching what I had written for the time being and give my hand at writing something more lighthearted and comical. I am quick witted and at times damn right funny but, I have never tried to put that to paper. Maybe that would pull me out of this slump I have been experiencing.  Is this what people call writer’s block? If so, then that would mean I’m a writer after all!

I saw a blog not long ago about all the half-finished novels the blogger had in his office. I wondered how one could have so many uncompleted manuscripts? I think I’m beginning to understand. I’m certain that events in one’s life doesn’t affect everyone the same way, either does events affect one’s creativity the same.

The thought came to me today, that maybe I do need several unfinished manuscripts sitting in my desk to get myself back on the writing train. I need to write, good or bad, just get myself back to it. After all, even though I don’t like to admit it, I have 66 plus years of experiences I can turn into great stories. What am I waiting for, anyway? No one is going to pull me out of this bog unless it’s me!

More of Us than them!

“Yes, the nation is once again horrified to learn another black man tragically lost his life after an altercation with police. Alton Sterling was shot and killed Tuesday just after midnight in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Listen to the liberal narrative and you’ll hear that Sterling was killed for selling CDs outside of a Triple S Food Mart. There’s a bit more to the story, of course.

Police were called after Sterling had been threatening a homeless man with a firearm for asking him if he had any spare change. The homeless man had made the 911 call. After police arrived, Sterling had resisted arrest, and appeared to make a grab for his firearm at one point. This is still disputable, however. In the video footage of the shooting, you can hear the officer shout “He’s got a gun!” and “if you f—king move, I swear to God.” One of the officers then says something unintelligible, and two shots are fired.

So who is Alton Sterling? For starters, liberals should know he possessed an illegal firearm. As a felon with a lengthy rap sheet, Sterling is legally prohibited from possessing a firearm. Police records show Sterling had been a member of the Bloods gang, and had a list of offenses including battery, assault, drugs and weapons charges, and owed $25,000 in child support. He was also a registered pedophile, having impregnated a 14-year-old girl when he was 20. The media, by contrast, has portrayed him as a loving father of five.” Said Alan West.

The media also fails to report that more white people are shot by the police than blacks and yet 40% of the crime in the US is committed my blacks or non-whites, while they are only about 12% of the population.

The current President isn’t helping the situation, in fact it would seem with him running his mouth without all the facts, he is inciting lawlessness, in my opinion. Then this morning as I’m trying to comprehend that another officer died while I safely slept last night, I watch Obama’s blah, blah, blah, and then go straight to the “if people couldn’t get their hands on these types of weapons” bull. I wanted to throw something at the TV screen.

Did anyone watching the video or live stream of one of the shooters and the officers having the shootout using the building pillar as cover notice the shooter’s stance and actions? It appeared to me this was a well-trained shooter. In my opinion, one doesn’t learn to behave in this manner by watching a movie or television.

Whatever the investigation learns, my heart is still bleeding blue for the Dallas PD and their families. All of this brings back memories of me being the one at home waiting for my husband’s end of shift. Always in the back of our heads there was that tiny bit of fear that his life could be taken that night. Trusting in his training and his brothers in blue to have is back got me through more than one night during his police career. There is nothing however that can prepare one for the knock on the door or the phone call.

My heart is bleeding red, white and blue for this nation as I watch it crumble from the top down into lawlessness and humans with no regard for life. I’m old enough to remember all the reasons people have had for these problems. At one time it was because of movies, then television, then rock and roll, then video games and for years it has been guns.

When our own leaders break laws, rules, and oaths, what more can we expect from our citizens. The only differences I see in most of our leaders and thugs on the streets is the homes they live in and the amount of money they make. Our leaders have their own armed security teams, while thugs threaten law abiding people’s security.

Be steadfast law officers! Know that there are more of us that support you in your work than the ones that hate you. We will have your six. We will salute you. We will stand with you.

2016’s the Emperor’s New Clothes

Once upon a time there lived a vain President whose only worry in life was to rule over the land with no regard to the Constitution.  He changed his mind almost every hour and loved to express his ideals to the world.

Word of the President’s refined habits spread over his country and beyond. Two scoundrels who had heard of the President’s vanity decided to take advantage of it. They introduced themselves the White House with a scheme in mind.

“We are two very good politicians and after many years of research we have invented an extraordinary method to weave lies so fine that everyone hearing them will believe them. As a matter of fact, anyone who doesn’t believe what we are saying will be considered too stupid and incompetent to have an opinion of their own.”

The chief of the guards heard the two politician’s strange story and sent for the FBI. The FBI notified the Attorney General, who ran to the President and disclosed the incredible news. The President’s curiosity got the better of him and he decided to see the two politicians.

“Besides these lies sounding like the truth, Mr. President, these lies will be woven into stories making you look like a wonderful world leader, stories created especially for you.” The President gave the two politicians a bag of gold coins in exchange for their promise to begin working on the lies immediately.

“Just tell us what you need to get started and we’ll give it to you.” The two Politicians asked for one to hold a Secretary’s post and then pretended to begin working. The President thought he had spent his money quite well: in addition to getting a new extraordinary line of bull to tell all the land, he would discover which of his subjects were ignorant and incompetent. A few days later, he called the old and wise Chief of Staff, who was considered by everyone as a man with common sense.

“Go and see how the work is proceeding,” the President told him, “and come back to let me know.”

The Chief of Staff was welcomed by the two Politians.

“We’re almost finished, but we need a lot more gold. Here are the speeches we have finished!” They said handing the Chief of Staff a stack of papers. The Chief of Staff started reading the stories and realized they were nothing but lies. He felt cold sweat on his forehead.

“I can’t believe this,” he thought. “If I let the President tell these lies, that means I’m stupid! Or, worse, incompetent!” If the Chief of Staff admitted that he saw nothing but lies, he would be discharged from his office.

“What marvelous cover ups,” he said then. “I’ll certainly tell the President.” The two Politicians rubbed their hands gleefully. More paper and ink was requested to finish the work.

Finally, the President received the announcement that the two Politicians had finished all the stories.

“Come in,” the President ordered. Even as they shook hands, the two Politicians pretended to be handing over actual facts for the President to report.

“Here it is Mr. President, the result of our labor,” the two said. “We have worked night and day but, at last the biggest cover up and the best lies in history are here for you. Look at how well written all of them are.” Of course the President knew some people would see through these lies but he kept on reading. He panicked and felt like fainting. But luckily the sofa in the Oval Office was right behind him and he sat down. But when he realized that no one would know that he was planning he felt better. Nobody could find out he was involved with the two Politicians from the beginning and they had started the lies long before he held office. The three of them were confident their plans would never be revealed.

The farce continued as the two Politicians had foreseen it all those years ago when one of them was a Governor. Once they had started telling lies there was no stopping them, and now they had the President playing along.

“Mr. President, you’ll need to read these speeches off of a teleprompter.” The two Politicians laughed as the President started reading the first speech. The President was embarrassed but since none of his bystanders were, he felt relieved.

“Yes, this is a beautiful and it sounds very good to me,” the President said trying to look comfortable. “You’ve done a fine job.”

“Mr President,” Chief of Staff said, “we have a request for you. The people have found out about this extraordinary cover up and they are anxious to see what you have to say for yourself and the two Politicians.” The President was doubtful showing his real self to the people, but then he abandoned his fears. After all, no one would know about it except the ignorant and the incompetent.

“All right,” he said. “I will grant the people this privilege.” He summoned his limo and the ceremonial parade was formed. A group of dignitaries and Secret Service agents walked at the very front of the procession and anxiously scrutinized the faces of the people in the street. All the people had gathered in front of the Washington Memorial, pushing and shoving to get a better look. An applause welcomed the regal procession. Everyone wanted to know how stupid or incompetent his or her neighbor was but, as the President began to speak, a strange murmur rose from the crowd.

Everyone said, loud enough for the others to hear: “Listen to the President’s speech. It’s wonderful!”

“What a marvelous speaker of truth!”

“And the promises! The promises are wonderful! I have never heard anything like it in my life!” They all tried to conceal their disappointment at not being able to actually believe what the President was saying, and since nobody was willing to admit the speech from the President was a bunch of lies, they all behaved as the two scoundrels had predicted.

Several people however, who had no important jobs and could actually see though the false promises shouted, “The President is lying!” they shouted.

“Fools!” the two Politians reprimanded. “Don’t talk nonsense!” The two Politians declared people that didn’t believe what they had devised, were stupid. But the people kept yelling, “We are right, the President is lying and trying to help the Politians cover up things that are wrong.”

The President knew that the people were right but could not admit to that. He though it better to continue the speech under the illusion that anyone who couldn’t believe their lies, was either stupid or incompetent. And he stood stiffly behind his podium, while behind him the two Politians smiled knowing what they had done.

The President knew he only had a few more months of his term to continue the facade, and as promised he would do his best to help one of the politians run for the Presidency.

 

The End.

I’m Apologizing!

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I would like to take this time to apologize to everyone for every time I ever said a nasty word regarding the weather in Alabama or Virginia.  I would have never thought I would see the day when I would long for your steamy hot days when I would take a shower, dry off and still feel wet. Days when I would totally melt walking from the house to the car and by the time I would get to work I looked like I had slept in my clothes, sweat ruining my makeup and my hair stuck to my head.

Little did I know that one day I would be living where those days would feel like a fresh spring day.  Now I long for the hot nights in Alabama where it cools off into the seventies.

Please accept my apology! Know that this place called Arizona which I believe to be an old Indian (excuse me, American Native) word for Hell, is number one on my list of places where my body won’t conform to the climate.

So here I sit in the air conditioned house, listening to the electric meter spinning, waiting for fall. The good news is; Friday is the first of July! Just three more months of surviving cabin fever. People think it’s only in the winter months do people suffer from being stuck indoors too long. Those people never lived here.

One more person tells me it’s a dry heat or how much they love the hot weather; I cannot be held responsible for my reaction.  One can only take so much in this heat!

When Did This Happen?

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Last night my husband and I were watching a TV drama which led to some interesting comments, even for us. Scene: mother and 11-year-old daughter having an argument over a vapor electronic cigarette the mother found in her room. I could totally understand this argument as the argument that ensued when I found out my 16-year-old daughter was smoking would not have been for prime time. What caused the conversation last night was when the daughter stormed out telling her mother, “It’s my room, you have no right to go in there!” The mother just sat there! WTH?

I know, it’s fictional drama on television however, sadly many families actually allow this behavior. Cheese and rice, when did this happen?

It’s true, even I gave up the fight over the unkempt room of my daughter, who is now Mrs. Clean/Better Homes and Garden/ the Queen is coming clean. I gave up the nagging but I didn’t stop going into her room. I would just close the door when I walked out. If she had ever told me I had no right to go into her room, it wouldn’t have taken her long to realize just how wrong that statement had been. My house, my rules!

The first thing, I would have tossed her room until it looked like the FBI, DEA, ATFE and the local police had been searching for drugs. Then I would have set back in my recliner, drinking ice tea and watched as she put every single item away, nice and neat.

Since when did parents decide children need privacy? My private time was when I finally became responsible and old enough to bathe myself and actually get all the dirt off. I still got checked behind the ears and between my toes. If I missed a spot I went back for another bath. My bedroom door was never shut, unless one of my parents shut it. Anyone that has ever had a child knows a quiet child behind a closed door is a sign. A sign to pay attention because usually that child is being sneaky about something.

I lived in my parents’ home, and because we had a small family I didn’t have to share a bedroom with a sibling. It was my room until the owners of the house, my parents decided it was no longer my room.  When I became eighteen, I was required to pay rent. It wasn’t much but it was required. And of course as an immature, didn’t know nothing about anything, I thought the $15 a week was asking too much.  After all, I was hardly ever home and I seldom ate there. Still, it was my parents’ home and I knew if I pushed back too much, I would lose my place to live so cheaply. I said I was immature, not totally stupid!

I suppose all this giving children their own space, their privacy, their freedom came with not being able to spank the little shits when they misbehave. I guess it all started when people started trying to be their children’s friends instead of their parents. I had parents. I hated being parented most of the time, so that means my mom and dad were doing a great job. My friends lived in other homes in the neighborhood.

If you happen to have a child that refers to a room in your home as theirs and you have no right to go in there, please refer back to paragraph four. You don’t have to be a friend to have fun parenting.

Badges of Life

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You know the saying, “today is the first day of the rest of your life?”  This could very well be true but it could also be the last day of your life. I’m not trying to be cynical, it’s just the truth. The very fact that I woke up this morning, is a gift. Could things in my life be better. Sure, but they could be a lot worse.

I look back at the photos of myself over the years and I know that at all stages there were good times, trials, and tribulations.  However, I overcame and moved forward. Many times not at the pace I should have been moving but still I kept on trying.

The one thing I wish I could have gotten through my thick head in my youth would have been that this very day could be my last day. I would have never gone to bed angry. I would have always told the people I loved, just how much I love them. I would have walked away from bad relationships before I let them tear me down. I would have spent more time living my life instead of spending more of my life trying to make a living. I would have lived everyday as if it was my last, instead of living each day like I would live forever.

The silver in my hair and the wrinkles around my eyes are badges of life. The scares from a mastectomy and stretch marks are also badges. The scars on my shins from running into things and the scars on my hands from working hard are also badges.  How lucky I am to have lived long enough to earn these badges!

Will I earn a badge today, or will this be my last day of life, we know not what the future holds, and I’m good with that?  What I do know, is that the last time I talked with a person I care about, I told them I love them. If I saw them in person, I hugged them and told them I love them. The last thing I spoke to my husband last night was that I love him. And this morning when I awoke, I had a smile on my face, thankful of what I have and that I’m alive again one more day, whatever happens.

What Does It Mean?

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I would like to report that I have been working on the third book in this series but I have been a slacker since March. Death of a family member, changes all around to our everyday life and settling back into a regular routines has cause me to set writing on the back burner. Then a ten day trip to Montana turned into 11 day trip with a lot of airport time. I promised my publisher I would get with the program when I got home.

I was sitting at my daughter’s home in Montana, looking out over the creek bottom and the prairie when the thought of killing off one of the main characters popped into my head. I pondered this for a good while, trying to decide which should it be, her or him? Then my brain dove into the how I would kill either of them off. That was a deep dark cave.

What does it mean when an author is thinking about killing a main character? Am I tired of her or him? Am I tired of the story? Or am I being realistic, that life doesn’t always end up in a happily ever after?

I really am sort of stuck as of what to do. I had the story and ending all figured out until that one afternoon in Montana. Now I am torn. To kill or not to kill? What does this mean?

 

 

Look at this Review!

In The Genes cover

“Another awesome read by K.D. Bloodworth. It is the very scary sequel to Mr.Perfect.Com. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop the entire time! What terrible evil was surrounding everyone in the novel. While reading, I had to get up to make sure all my windows and doors were locked tight!! Keep up the great writing K.D. Looking forward to many more!”

It’s a great feeling when an author hears from a reader! I love that reader had to get up and check her doors and windows. Job accomplished for this author!

Why?

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Small word, big question? I was contemplating on blogging this morning and I questioned myself, “Why would anyone want to read what I think or even care what I think?” After all, I am not famous. I’m not a TV or movie star. I have never been on a reality TV show.  Why no one has ever interviewed me on the radio.  I’m not a famous anything. I’m just a regular person, that has been lucky enough to live 66 years and counting.

Then it dawned on me, I may not be able to advise you on what to do, but I can certainly tell you what you probably shouldn’t do. In the last 60 years or so, I have made plenty of mistakes. Ones not so bad but others real doozies. Probably ones you should really steer clear of at all costs. Cheese and Rice, I’m lucky to even still be here, upright and thinking with a clear mind. The main thought that comes to mind when I think back of my youth is, “What was I thinking?”  Oh, I think about that on things I did last week also!

I can tell you for certain, never try standing up while swinging and let go, trying to do it hands free. It won’t end well. Don’t stand on the trunk or roof of a moving car trying to surf. Again, this won’t end well.  Playing softball bare footed isn’t a good idea. Trying to slide into a base is even a worse idea. It won’t end well either. The list goes on and on.

Having been married numerous times one would think I have this relationship stuff well in hand. Don’t fool yourself, after 24 years with my husband, I learn something new everyday. I’m a firm believer that no one can give anyone relationship advice, unless they have been in a relationship with the same person. After all, I could give anyone involved with any of my ex-husbands lots of advice but what good would that do? I doubt they would believe me. I had to learn the hard way, so it’s only fair I don’t give advice where they are concerned.

The only advice I can give anyone is, what you get during your courtship is the best part. People tend to try harder during the courtship part of the relationship. After you move in together or get married, it doesn’t take long to starting wondering who is this new person living with you. Surprise! 

There is simply nothing better than asking someone older about past experiences, because we have either been there and done that, or we know someone who has been. We may not have the right answers but we can tell you how it turned out in the end. Then you can decide for yourself.

So, that is WHY!

 

 

First in the Series

Free banner

This offer won’t last long so take advantage NOW!  Although I cannot offer this book free on Amazon, you can download from links on

http://www.spangaloo.com/authors.php?aid=64

or directly on the following links.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/580771

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mrperfectcom-k-d-bloodworth/1122647202?ean=9781502976499

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/mrperfect-com?

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/mrperfect.com/id1044160468?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

MrPerfect.com was a finalist in the 2015 IAN Book Awards and I couldn’t be prouder, even if I had won first place. Just to be a finalist among all the books that were considered is an honor.  With this honor, MrPerfect.com has a 4.5 star rating on Amazon.

Get your copy while the offer is available. Feel the fear as Dawn tries to escape from the hands of a killer, only to find herself lost and in the grip of the wilderness.

I would love to hear from you after you read MrPerfect.com.

kdbloodworth1@gmail.com

 

 

 

I’m Giving It Up!

sinus headache

Just before my head exploded the other day, I decided it was time to do something about my addiction. Yes, I’m an addict.  I’m a news junkie. This all started in 2003 when my husbands started working overseas. I was still working but every chance I had, one of the 24/7 news channels was on my television. After I retired, my addiction worsened.

I started last week with tuning in on my local TV station in the mornings. They broadcast all morning, local news, traffic, weather, and tons of local good news stories. Stories about cooking, eating out in the area, events and very little world news or political crap. No CNN, no FNC, or HLN.  I did back slide and watch a few minutes of Fox and Friends.

Yesterday was the big step. I didn’t turn on the television until 2 pm! I did not check the headlines on my computer. When I did turn on the TV, I bypassed all the news channels. I even skipped the evening news and didn’t watch 60 Minutes. I have yet to watch the recorded television program, Sunday Morning, which I have watched faithfully for years.

I found that I was able to relax, even spending several hours out on the patio, enjoying the birds and reading. This morning over my first cup of coffee, I did turn on the news to see if anything happened that would directly concern my life today. I decided it was the same ol bullshit and turned the brain sucking television off.

I still believe people should be aware of what’s going on in the world, and just in their little world. I’m going back to my childhood, where we caught the morning news for a few minutes before we headed off to work or school. If we weren’t involved in some kind of activity, we would see the evening news. We survived just fine.

I’m not sure if I can keep this up, but for my peace of mind, I truly intend to try. News 24/7 is taking over our lives. We mindlessly listen to the same things over and over, every ten to fifteen minutes. I’m not a doctor or a scientist so I do not know the reasons why some of us are addicted to this but for me it’s time to stop. I’m giving it up.

 

 

The Bull by the Tail

th1V0T0IW2

Yep, I think this cartoon is a fair description of how I feel about everything I see on my computer, including the manuscript I’m working on. Every morning I tell myself to get up and get working on my next novel. Every afternoon, I’m telling myself I’ll write tomorrow.  I know how the story is to end. I know the plot. I know what is to happen next. I just can’t seem to make my fingers put the words to the screen. If I know all of that, is it still called writer’s block?

Maybe it’s the lack of confidence? Something I have only developed since I decided to write books. I have always grabbed the bull of life by the tail and tried everything and anything I so desired. Something I have learned is self-publishing or trying to find an agent is a confidence killer. It’s not a hit you in the head with a hammer killer, but a sneak up on you, in the dark, silent serial killer. It doesn’t kill your confidence quickly either. It slowly wounds you until you are bleeding self-confidence.

You self-publish and receive more five start reviews than any others, which puts a great big bandage on the wound. Then comes a crappy review and rips the bandage off. You decide to send your manuscript to agents looking for new talent, causing you to place another bandage on your wounded confidence. The rejection letters start arriving, slowing taking the bandage off, allowing you to bleed more. Soon you are looking for a transfusion.

I’m glad I took to writing after I retired as if I had tried to do this for a living I would have starved to death years ago. Still, this wound to my self-confidence, even in my retirement is hard for this ‘I can do anything’ girl.

Today I begin a new outlook. It really doesn’t matter if only a few people have read my work. What counts is the fact that the few people that have read my work, liked it. People I never known have liked my books. What more can an author want other than people to say when they started the book, they couldn’t put it down? If others read these reviews and still decide not to read my books, then it’s their loss not mine.

With that said, tomorrow morning, I’m going to start writing again, even if it’s only for a few minutes. That’s more than I have done in a while. Every day I will strive to put more words down and get this next book finished.

Why? Because I’m a grab the bull of life by the tail type of girl, and can do anything I choose.

To GoPro or to Not GoPro

Recently I have been entertained by all the pet videos on Facebook, Twitter and You Tube. I can sit for long periods of time watching all sorts of animals doing funny things. Being a dog lover, of course my favorites are the dog videos.

Not long ago, my daughter put a GoPro camera on a dog harness, strapping it to my grand dog, Walley, a yellow lab. I sat and laughed watching the video of him chasing his ball through the field.  Camera bobbing up and down, his ears just flopping away, and his turning this way and that, him looking for the ball that had just been thrown.

I decided I could do this with my two girls. I have a Goldendoodle and a Labradoodle.  They entertain themselves out in our back yard, chasing each other, dog wrestling and playing tug with various toys. How cool would it be to have a dog’s view of this?

Then I realized, for the most part, the girls spend most of their day following me around the house. Often I find Muddy stretched out in our king size bed, napping in the middle of the day.

Most of the video would be nothing but the dogs view of my butt as they follow me around the house. Maybe a few shots of my feet as they park themselves near my desk, or if I’m working on the laptop, you would see my kitchen floor.

But more than everything else, this would be the view you would see most often.

world-leaders-pooping-the-daily-duty-cristina-guggeri-21-600x264

Because as a pet owner, you know I can never take a trip to the bathroom without company. So the decision was made, no GoPro camera for my dogs!

She Needs Your Help!

meow, meow

It’s time for my social media family to step up to the plate and help me, help this little girl. I’m reaching out to everyone to pass the word to anyone you know that lives in Arizona or knows someone that lives here.

About a month ago this little girl showed up in our flower bed, starving to death. We could see her skeleton through her fur. She could barely walk. We got some food into her and water. I though she would make herself sick she drank so much. She was friendly and allowed us to pick her up. Weakly she purred. We noticed she had been declawed, explaining why she was starving. She can’t catch any food or defend herself.

I have reached out on several web sites looking for a home for her. I have contacted every cat rescue place in the area and none are taking cats at this time, just kittens. Last night the coyotes in the area were yipping and I could only hope Miss Meow was hidden in a safe place.

I would adopt her but I have two big dogs that don’t much like the idea of having a cat in the house. I don’t think they would actually hurt her because we use to have barn cats and there were no problems. However, Miss Meow is scared to death of my girls. She saw them through the door in the foyer several times and took off for the bushes. I’m not sure if this is a learned reaction since she has been on her own or something from her past.

As I said, she has been declawed, so I’m assuming she was an indoor pet. I have not been able to look at her belly, but I would think anyone spending the money to declaw would also spay.

This little darling, needs a foster home or a forever home. She’s loving and is healthy enough now to even play a bit when I go outside to feed her. She does have some skin problems around her ears and face. I want to take her to the vet, but I have no pet carrier and could use some help on that matter also.

I implore all of you, any one of you, someone, please help this darling little cat. She needs more saving that I can offer.  Anyone that can help, please email me at queenofvaughn@gmail.com.

 

 

It Wasn’t That Long Ago

 

 

It wasn’t that long ago when I couldn’t wait for summer to arrive, when daylight lasted well into the night hours. When my childhood friends and I would play hide-n-seek  in the darkness of our yard. Where the trees and shrubs grew larger after the sun set, giving us an abundance of hiding places.

How well I remember my mother forcing me to get into the bathtub before bed, when I was too tired to walk. She would take a scrub brush to my feet that had played in the yard the whole day without ever touching the inside of my shoes. “These feet will never get into a bed of mine,” she would say as she scrubbed my feet clean.

Sadly we grew up and grew out of the hide-n-seek days, and the world grew out of them also. Now parents fear allowing their children to play in the darkness. They never know the thrill of hiding under the huge Lilac bush as the ‘IT’ person walks by, never seeing you. They will never know how hard it was to keep from laughing out loud as we tried to run to the designated free spot, where we declared our being free from being tagged as ‘IT’.

Talking to younger people today, they have a hard time understanding there was a time when there were no computers, video games, cell phones, or even smart TVs.  There was a time when we were required to be smarter than our televisions.

I suppose I looked at my parents with the same questionable looks when they told me when  they were children, they used an outhouse. That wasn’t all that long ago either.

There are days when I look at my years on this earth and think I have lived a long time, but the fact is, the world had changed faster than my years have passed.  Someone asked me a while back if I could go back in time, where would I go. My answer came quickly.

I would go back to a warm summer night in Michigan, where the grass felt cool on my bare feet. Where I ran through the grass hoping my daddy had found all the sticker weeds, leaving none for my feet to find. Where I could here one of my friends counting down from one hundred before they came looking for us. When I ran past the Lilac bush, smelling the sweet blossoms, before I crawled under one of the big pine trees to hide.  Where I could here hear my mom call me into the house again, as it was bath time and my friends needed to get home, as it was getting late. I can almost hear the groans from everyone, wishing for just one more game. And after my bath, including the foot scrubbing, I would crawl exhausted into a clean bed of sheets that had been hung out on the clothes lines for drying. Probably the only smell better than the Lilac bushes, in my memory.

Yes, I would go back in a heartbeat, but it wasn’t all that long ago.

 

 

 

I Just Have to Share

mid nov poster

I’ve been very busy with life lately and very quiet. This morning I noticed I had more reviews on Amazon. I wanted to share with all of you.

“WOW !What great reading. Readers will not want to miss out reading this book and its sequel, IN THE GENES. Please do yourself a favor and purchase both of these books. They are fabulous . You will find yourself not moving until you have finished them. Great author.”

There’s a few little technical glitches in the first couple of chapters, which rapidly smooth out as the story progresses, and one formatting glitch about 3/4 of the way through. By the time the formatting glitch hit, I was well and truly hooked on the story, but the early ones made it a little harder to really become immersed in the pictures so vividly painted. I’m not sure if it is because the story started out in first present, or if there really was a glitch in the edits, because a couple of times the tenses shifted from sentence to sentence. (As someone who has to watch this, myself, I’m a bit oversensitive to the issue.) However, with that said, this was a fun read… mostly. There are a couple of scenes that were a little hard to get through, mostly because of the event, not because of the writing. (Thus the warning trigger in the description above.)

The story itself is set against the backdrop of modern day America, which most would think did not require much world building. Due to the fact that what isn’t set against a modern city is set in the wilderness of the Rocky’s, there is quite a bit of world building that must be done. Not only did K.D. do an excellent job, I found myself falling in love with the Rocky Mountain Wilderness all over again. I’m a huge lover of nature, the more unspoiled, the better. And, many of the scenes were described with just the right amount of detail to let me stand beside the lead as she experienced it for the first time. I could practically smell the fresh air, hear the pines whisper to each other, and feel the serenity that comes from being away from everything settle over me as I read. That alone makes this a book well worth returning to later.

Though I’m not usually a fan of flashbacks, K.D. is a master with them. There were two or three separate timelines woven together to provide a rich tapestry for the characters to interact with. Each of the pieces, as it was introduce, brought with it something that added a little more depth and history to the lead and a couple of the secondary characters. All the while, those same characters were developing from the present through their trials and efforts into something even more alive and vibrant. When the story started resolving all the little mysteries so carefully woven in, each of the first and second tier characters stood beside me, and I felt they were actually friends I had known my entire life. (Mind you, it only took me 4 hours or so to devour the book!) Even the villain was well done, which isn’t always easy to accomplish.

The pace of the story telling was an interesting mix, providing texture to the already vivid images being painted. There was no sense of anything being rushed, or anything being drug out. A few times there did seem to be extra scenes, but when I got to the end, those were like the extra scenes you get with a director’s cut – something that added a little extra dimension to everything else going on.”

EXCELLENT book. This book follows MR. PERFECT.COM. Both books are exciting to the point I could not lay it down. K.D. Bloodworth keeps the suspense moving through the entire story. I am hoping another series from her. Great author!

I need for life to slow down a bit and give me time to get back to writing the third book of this story.

It Takes Time

It’s been almost a month since the death of my mom in-law, and I know it will take time to get out of the habits I had made with her over the last two years. After all, after sixteen years I still think about picking up the phone and calling my mom on certain days. I find it hard to believe that twenty years have passed since my own father died, and yet it has.

I’m still thinking of heading over to mom’s place first thing in the morning to check on her and the last thing I would do in the evening before she would go to bed. I still find myself looking to see that her lights are off, sending the single that she had gone to bed.

I have reached the age where most of the kids I grew up with are now orphans or even worse, many of them never made it to see retirement. I will not complain about growing old or not being able to do the things I once did. I’m just happy that I once could do the things I did.

It certainly isn’t a burden to take care of an aging parent, it’s just a part of life and a privilege.  That care giving isn’t all physical care, but more important is the love and mental support one can give. There comes a time when one can not give the physical and 24/7 care that might be needed and as a child one needs to know this.

I now look across the patio to mom’s house and smile, remembering all the times I would walk through her door and was always greeted with a “Hi Honey.”  I hope that time never allows me to forget that.

 

Hello Again: Kindle Scout Approved.

Living the Dream

fireworksGood morning. I’m tremendously excited to announce that my latest novel, Hello Again, has been approved for a publication campaign by Kindle Scout, one of the publishing arms of Amazon. What does this mean? Kindle Scout is reader-powered publishing for new, never-before-published books. It’s a place where readers help decide if a book will be chosen for publication through Amazon’s publishing forums. Selected books will be published by Kindle Press and as a thank you from Kindle Press and myself for your support, you’ll receive an early, free e-copy of Hello Againif it’s selected for publication.  

HelloAgain-ebookSo, why should you nominate Hello Again? For one, I think it’s one of the best stories I’ve written to date. It’s a great mix of romance, suspense, and the paranormal. It’ll make you laugh, cry, suspend your hold on reality, and have you look beyond what you believe. In the end, it’ll leave you feeling…

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Crazy and Still Laughing

WTH

There are many things I wonder about in this life, however as of late, two things are bothering me. Have I always been crazy or has life made me this way?  I also wonder if life is catching up with me or if I’m catching up with life? This morning I believe these two things intertwine.

I find that things in my everyday life, that most people would not think as funny, throws me into fits of laughter. Mostly things that happen to me but I will laugh at you when you do crazy things. As the world gets more nuts, I laugh more. Not my fault. Oh, I know I’m not being PC using works like crazy or nuts, but that makes me laugh too. Also, I don’t care. If you have read any of my other blogs you know I’m not PC and I don’t care!

As far as life catching up with me or the other way around, I have no answer for that. At times I feel as if I was ahead of my time and life is finally catching up with me and my thoughts. Then other days, I feel as if I’m far behind the game and I’m catching up with life. Either way, that is making me crazy, which goes back to my first question on if I’ve always been crazy or has life made me this way?  This is my own personal, which came first, the egg or the chicken?

At my age, I’m starting to wonder if I will be able to find the answers before the end. I assume there are more important questions that need to be answered before I am no more, like is there an after life. Guess that will be answered in due time.

The reasons behind my wondering all extends from being the care giver and loss of a loved one. In the last days of my mother in-law’s life, we still found things to laugh about. Even after her death, while visiting with family, we laughed even more.  I believe the old saying that laughter is the best medicine is very true.

In which case, this does not make me crazy and I believe life should catch up with me. Stop being PC, find your sense of humor, even in the darkest times, and let others catch up with you, (or in this case, me).

 

 

 

 

Saying Good-Bye to Helen

Helen

This photo of Helen Flatten Williams was taken long before I ever knew her, but I prefer to remember her as this young, vibrant, woman. Although, saying good-bye to anyone tears you apart, knowing she is no long ill and in pain, makes it easier.

For almost two years, every morning I would walk to her home, the guest house just a few yards from our house, open the door and announce, “Knockey, Knockey.”

Helen would always answer, “Hi Sweetie.”

The routine would continue with: “How’s the mom?”

“Fine, how’s the daughter?”

And so our day would start. Throughout the day, I would pop in and check on her, some days we spent a good bit of time together and other days not so much. Some afternoons she would come over to our place and visit for a bit. Helen liked to cook, and she did until she went to the hospital. We shared lots of dinners over the past two years, some she made and some I did. Sharing was always fun.

Kevin and I were lucky enough to spend the last few days of her life with her in her home. We were there, holding her hand and rubbing her forehead during her last hours. We were there to say good-bye. Although, because of her illness, the last hour was hard, she seemed to be at peace to be with us, in her own home.

Mom, didn’t want a funeral or any fancy tributes to her life. So we will honor her wishes. She did say if her siblings wanted to get together and go out to dinner on her, that would please her. Those plans are in the making.

Helen, lived her life the way she wanted. As the song says, she did it her way. Now, we remember the good times and learn to live without her. I wonder how long it will take before I stop wanting to go to her place first thing in the morning or looking over to her place at night, making sure her lights are out and she is sleeping? Time will tell.

So not with a heavy heart do I say good bye to my mother in-law, but with fond memories. She drove me crazy at times, but isn’t that what mom’s are suppose to do? But more so Helen, I will always remember how we would cut up and have fun, even at the doctor’s office.

I’m not sure but if there is an afterlife and it’s allowed, Helen is having a dirty martini, a cigarette and joking about something while playing poker. And that’s alright too.

 

 

 

Shedding the Guilt

Night-Sweats

Forty some years of downplaying any illness that came my way, why would I think I would be any different now? No fever…go to work anyway. Not strep throat…go to work anyway. No pox…go to work anyway. It’s just a broken ankle…go to work anyway. Whether it was out of the sense of duty or survival, we put on our big girl panties and went to work. Bills needed paid. I can not begin to count the times my bosses have told me, “You look like hell, go home.”  The last time, I had pneumonia.

Things have changed since I retired. I give in to the idea that I’m actually ill. Although, it doesn’t happen very often, it does from time to time. In fact, I can’t even remember when some kind of virus visited. Yet, Sunday morning, I awoke not feeling myself.

By noon, I was wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa, wishing for any kind of relief from a cough that wouldn’t stop. My head was pounding, my lungs were hurting, I was cold, and ached all over. Dammit, I was getting sick. Unacceptable! I have people to take care of, two houses to keep up, I have things I need to do. I CAN’T BE SICK!

Oh, but I can, and by late afternoon, I was back in bed, thinking I for sure had the plague. This sort of thoughts are what runs through your head when you very seldom get sick. I slept almost all night Sunday, most all day Monday, and most all night Monday. I was only up long enough for bathroom breaks, medicine times, and finally some soup late Monday evening.

Tuesday has found me much better. I think my lungs like me again, the cough has mostly gone away, but I have been left with a headache from hell and weak.  I will survive the shortest known case of the plague on record.

The problem now is the guilt. The very fact that I was sick leaves me with horrible guilt. Two whole days have passed that I did not do any of my regular chores. I shed my responsibilities and gave in to an illness. How dare I. Even more guilt for not planning on doing much today, again. From where does this guilt come?

Is this from all my working years? From being a mother and a wife? Is it because I’m female? Or maybe because I’m just a responsible human?

Whatever the reason, I’m shedding the guilt. I got sick, not by my choice. If the laundry didn’t get done, or the floors swept, or whatever else I deemed important didn’t get done, to hell with it. It will be here tomorrow.

My advice; don’t wait until you are retired to learn it’s okay to take care of yourself when you get ill. Don’t ever feel guilty about taking care of yourself.

 

 

And the Oscar Goes To:

Amry Oscar

In the category of people thinking too much of themselves, the Oscar goes to Hollywood! 

I do watch the red carpet event before the Oscars, as I do enjoy looking at the dresses, jewelry, and hairdos. (Speaking of which, if you have adorn yourself with a $25,000 evening gown and hundred of thousands of dollars of jewels, shouldn’t you spurge on someone doing your hair? Having long hair and showing up like you just ran a brush through your locks before running to the grocery store does not send style vibes. But that’s a whole other topic.

This morning while watching the morning news, of course it was Oscar this, and Oscar that. My big statement this morning is, “Who gives a rat’s ass?” Well, beside those in the business. An Oscar means a better paycheck for your next project, so I get it

What I don’t understand is why Americans are so seduced by Hollywood. These people are no different from any of the rest of us, except maybe their bank accounts. They have an occupation that if they make it in the business, they live like kings and queens. Live like does not interrupt to are kings and queens. There opinions are no better, or more important than Joe Bob the plumber or Sally the waitress. 

Leonardo Dicaprio’s speech last night made me laugh. I’m not sure if he ever finished the building of his home on an island down in the Caribbean or not. However, not so many years ago, 2008 in fact, he was building an estimated $12 million home there. Sure it was to be a very nice home but the costs were increased because everything has to be shipped to the island. I wonder how many boat and plane trips had to be made supplying every single item needed to build his get away place? I don’t in any means begrudge him an island retreat or a bit fancy home, but don’t get up there and preach about taking care of our world when you probably polluted the air with those boats and planes more than a small town during the same time period. So Mr Dicaprio, although I loved your acting and movie and agree you should receive the Oscar, I’m calling the bullshit card on your speech.

I do not understand why people that happen to work at an occupation which makes their faces well knows are thought more of than Firemen, Police, or people serving in our Military. I just don’t and never have understood the fascination people have with celeberties. They make a lot of money playing dress up and acting like someone else. I’m also not saying it’s not a hard job. They get up early, work long hours, and if they are good at their trade, I’m assuming they study for their rolls. But how does that make their opinions any better than mine or yours? I’m also not saying you need a formal education to be smart, but many actor’s never graduation from high school and yet they are revered as scholars when they open their mouths. The masses making goo goo eyes as they make their stand on this or that. 

Ever notice how many are anti-gun but make movies where hundreds of people are gunned down for entertainment. Ever notice how most of Hollywood preaches about racism, freedom of speech and such but if someone is known to be a conservative, you might not work in Hollywood ever again. Why even last week, I saw a report of yet another actor coming out of the closet as a conservative. You thought I was going to say gay, did you? 

I love going to the movies, always have and probably always will. I love the evening gowns, the jewelry, and the hairdos. Did I mention the shoes?  Hollywood, you are entertainers, so entertain me. I don’t know you. I don’t hang out with you. I don’t care what your opinions are. Unless you want to come to my house for dinner and have a good discussion about your opinions, then I wish you would just shut up and keep them to yourself. Specially when you aren’t asked.

In the bullshit category…the Oscar goes to Hollywood, again!     

  

 

Public Announcement

crazy-people-crazy

Yes as always, every four years America has Presidental elections and even the smartest and kindest see to fall into the pit of craziness.  The two party system has torn our country in two but on top of this, every four years people lose their minds.

Normal everyday people who would normally not ever use bad language, call people insulting names, or never think of being rude to anyone are turned into political manics.To make things worse, we now have the internet, in which one can randomly insult someone’s intelligence.  Or one can blast someone to hell and back, without any consequences, other than being unfriended or cursed. The skill of normal debates have long been lost.

Election years, a time when many people start thinking about becoming an Ex-pat somewhere. Then again, isn’t better to know the crazies you know, than the crazies you don’t know?

Soon the elections will be done, (not soon enough for those of us that are already tired of the rhetoric), and the crazies will calm down and slowly slip into their regular routines. Or so we can hope. Those that hang onto the craziness, seem to hold office, for years.

The rest of us will go about our regular lives, trying to maintain some resemblance to normalcy. Others will try to regain their manners and scruples. All the while we know the craziness is only a short time away, and it will start all over again.

My best advice is to find something fun to do and let the crazies carry on without you. Maybe if everyone ignores them, they will go away!

 

 

 

A Small Favor, Please

Evil living in MT

 

 

When they said they were a struggling author, I thought they had writer’s block, or some other problem in putting pen to paper. Or in these days of computers and technology, fingers to the keyboard. Oh, how wrong was I!

The stories came to me easily, and I wrote some days, fast and furious. I won’t even mention the hateful editing portion. If you have ever read my blog before, you know how I loathe editing my own work. I hate it so much, I detour from editing my blogs and emails. That’s a lot of loathing.

The struggling part comes in trying to be noticed, read, and hopefully liked enough the readers will post a review. I once feared a bad review, until I realized it doesn’t matter if you have written a best seller and you have a big publishing house, there will be those that hated the story.

This past couple of months I have seen a rise in sales. I am tickled to death. Not that I’m getting rich, however if this trend keeps up, by 2020 I may have earned enough to compensate the editor expense. So, you see it’s not about the money.

Like all humans, I seek approval from other humans. I want to be liked. I want people to like my books. I want people to tell others to read my books. I want people to put my books on their to read lists. I know, by now you are saying, I want, I want, I want! But in my defense, it’s not like I’m asking for something outrageous.

Like all Indie Authors, I’m hoping enough people will read and like my books that a big publishing house will take notice. How often does that happen? I probably have a better chance of being hit by space debris. I’m sure that’s what J. K. Rowling said, so it does happen.

I’m going out on a limb here in asking a small favor for those of you that have read my books and have not written a review. Would you take the time and send me a short note about the book? I will not use any names, but I would like to use your statements in my upcoming promotions.  Just a small favor.

You can comment to this blog, Twitter, or Facebook.

They Don’t Look Presidential

All the Presidents

Again this morning I heard someone say, “he doesn’t look Presidential.” Again I found myself thinking, what the hell does that mean?

After all, any good photographer or makeup artist can make just about anyone look a certain way. With that said, I turned to my favorite, Google. I couldn’t believe some of the photos on the web of past Presidents and of President Obama, not looking so prim and proper or Presidential.

Oh, K. D. you know they are talking about their actions not so much the way they appear, you say. I see! Not to mentions any names, but getting oral sex from a young intern in the oval office was Presidential? Lying to congress or being impeached is Presidential? Having an affair with a Hollywood star was Presidential? Having children with a slave was Presidential?

It doesn’t matter how you take the statement, just in my years, acting or looking Presidential hasn’t helped America one bit. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s been the same ol, same ol for as long as anyone can remember. Everyone in office from the very beginning owes someone something for their help in getting them elected. Everyone one of them have made speeches and made promises, that have gone with the wind.

I am neither Democrat or Republican. I’m not even sure if I’m an independant. I’m a free thinking American that happens to be tired of politics as usual. I think Bernie is smoking his own dope. Hillary has no clue as to how us regular people live. As far as the GOP candidates, I’m tired of them too.

I don’t care if you look like the Jokester from Batman, if you can stop the palm greasing, lying, cheating, and lobbyist while you protect our country from illegals and terrorists, then I might vote for you. I want someone that will allow ICE and our military to do their jobs. I want someone that will stand up to sanctuary cities and tell them they will lose all Federal Funding if they don’t stop harboring criminals. Like it or not, it’s a crime to be here without a VISA.

One thing for certain, I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired with politics as usual.

 

 

Hearts on Fire

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For the last few days all I have seen and heard is Valentine’s Day commercials. I do believe the so called holiday has bypassed the commercial, ram it down our throats of Christmas. Buy, buy, buy!

How sweet are the memories of Valentine’s Day past, when we were too broke to celebrate according to the retail world. When a single rose, or a card was extravagant. Going out to dinner would have been too much for our budget. When our hearts were on fire for the company of each other.

Over the years we have been fortunate and have purchased lovely gifts for each other but the special memories have nothing to do with gifts, or money spent. The special memories come from the heart, not the pocket book.

Special words at the right time. An unexpected hug or kiss. Unspoken words of support when you think no one cares or understands. Time spent together, doing nothing.

Of all the Valentine’s past, the one which will stay with me for the rest of my life, will be the one from 2008.  Fifteen days post mastectomy my Valentine looked at me and said, “The only thing that matters is the cancer is gone. You will be here for many more years. And no matter what, you will always be beautiful to me.”

All the fancy gifts, chocolate or flowers in the world can top that for me. Are our hearts still on fire for each other, you may ask. I’ll just say there are many types of fires. When you are young and in love, mostly they are very hot and flash fires. As you grow older with each other, the fire may not be as hot and quick, but becomes a slow burn that lasts a lifetime.

 

 

 

 

 

To Work or To Play?

making excusses

I have used all the “it’s the holidays,” “it’s the play offs,” and “Super Bowl Sunday!” excuses I could think of. After the big game last night, I fully intended to get my author act together and get back to writing. Seems I have been working on the first three chapters to the new book since October. Geese, it’s only February, I tell myself.

Last night as I turned off my Kindle and took off my glasses, my last thoughts was tomorrow is the day. I have been making notes for months with little success actually turning those notes into paragraphs. I’m feeling fairly lame.

With coffee in hand I sit down at my computer this morning with full intent to do some promoting, answering some emails, check my Facebook author page, send out a few tweets, and there I see it! A huge post stating “Daytona 500 in two Sundays.”

I quickly check my appointment calendar that sits to the right of my keyboard! No appointments between this afternoon and Dayton Sunday! I’m in luck! Surely I can settle down and act like a writer for thirteen days. Or maybe not because even though I have no appointments, my husband is appointment free and maybe also my mother in-law, I still have all the regular responsibilities of running two homes, which seem to take up a lot of my time.

I keep reading blogs and articles that authors must treat their writing like a full time job. I don’t want a full time job. I’m retired from the work force. I want to play and do what I like doing, when I want to do whatever it is I’m doing. To me, treating my writing time like a full time job sounds like I’m back working full time. Wait, writing is hard work and it does take a lot of time. However, can’t writing be a labor of love of which my job and former career was never.

I always said if work was fun, then it would be called playing.  Thinking of it all like that, then I suppose I want my writing time to be play time. Is that too much to ask?  In the meantime I need to get back to my notes and start writing. Daytona Sunday is right around turn one, I mean the corner!

 

 

It’s Really That Simple

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I know I have written about this subject before, however this whole getting people to write a review still has me dumbfounded. Why is this such a chore?

Authors are not asking for more money, or demanding physical work on one’s body. We are only asking for a little bit of the reader’s time. Oh, and a few strokes on the keyboard. I’m willing to bet most readers spend more time on Facebook during one day than all the time needed in a three month period to write a simple review on one book.

One doesn’t need to be creative or an author themselves to write a review.  It really is very simple. No one is going to grade you on what you write, this isn’t school.

  1.  How many stars would you give it? Click on a star.
  2.  Did you like the book? (examples: ‘I loved this book.’ Or ‘I liked this book.’ ‘Not my cup tea.’)
  3. Why did you like this book or didn’t like it? (examples: ‘I couldn’t put this book down once I started reading. Very exciting.’ Or ‘Author made me fall in love with the characters.’ Or ‘The story was well written but for my liking I just couldn’t get into the characters.’ Or ‘I like the characters but I couldn’t get into the story.’

Books are subjective to everyone’s different tastes. If you don’t like science fiction but still read a science fiction story and you find that you still hate science fiction, you can still review the book nicely. Let the readers know you usually don’t read the genre but you gave it a try. “I still don’t like science fiction but author created great characters.” You can always find something nice to say if you think about it. No need in being ugly.

If the book has an adult warning, then don’t complain about the cussing or sex. That’s like picking up a book on Poetry then complaining it had too many poems or a cookbook with too many recipes.

Trust me on this, once you write a few reviews the easier it gets. Like everything in life, practice may not make perfect but it will improve whatever you are doing.

So give an author a gift of a review. It costs nothing but a few minutes of your time. It will put a big smile on someone’s face and a boost to their day. It’s really that simple.

 

Please Consider This!

I admit that I post silly and sometimes inappropriate jokes regarding all of the current Presidential candidates and that’s my right as an American citizen. In doing so, I try my best not to insinuate that the people choosing any candidate are uneducated or just plain stupid. No matter who you support in the upcoming election, I wish you will give a few things your time and consideration.

Mostly this blog post is for those of you that have never been in the military, have had spouses or children in the military or have had jobs where you had to deal with anything the Government considered to be Top Secret. There are many reasons things are deemed Top Secret. At in level in the military or in a government related job, you are given a Top Secret clearance or above, you are required to sign a non-disclosure or contract stating you have read and understand all the rules pertaining to the clearance.  As a wife, husband, mother, or father of anyone working in a Top Secret job, it’s understood these rules apply to you too. As for me and I’m sure others, when we asked questions and they were skirted around, we knew the answer was something that couldn’t be talked about, so we changed the subject.

Over the years we have learned to live without knowing exactly where our loved ones are working. Oh, we might know they are in Afghanistan or Iraq, but we do not know where in those countries they might be. We know they are stationed here or there but we do not know what missions they might be involved. We know they have access to Government satellite phones but they can’t call home on those. We understand they have access to Government secure computers but they can’t email us on those. So we wait. We wait days, weeks and sometimes a month or more, until they can get to a phone or computer they are cleared to use. We wait without knowing.  We wait while we watch the news channels with any reports coming from the country our loved ones are working. We wait and when someone asks us what our loved one is doing overseas we answer with a general answer because we don’t know all the details. We don’t ask, we are not told, and we don’t tell.

People in charge know the rules, know what Top Secret means and they should be held at the same standard as the rest of us. People in government positions that blab or leak anything Top Secret or anything they think might become Top Secret, should go to jail and lose their Top Secret clearance, period! No questions asked.

I know there are going to be people reading this that will say, these occupations were our choice and if we have to live our lives waiting it’s not your business. That’s true. However, please try to put yourself in our lives. How would you feel if you or your loved one was put into more severe harm’s way because someone didn’t follow the rules, allowing Top Secret information to be in jeopardy or actually told secrets to people that had no business in knowing? Would you feel safe for yourself and your loved ones with these type of people running our Government? Should they be allowed to serve in the Military, in Congress or even be considered as Commander in Chief?

We live in dangerous times and need people in charge that can follow the rules and do not believe they are above the law. We need leaders that understand they are in Washington to represent Americans and not there to do their will. It seems for years the people that have been voted into office have forgotten these things.

I am by no means trying to tell anyone who to vote for however, I’m suggesting some things you might want to consider before you vote.

When Did It Happen?

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Of course I remember the phone call from my doctor when she informed me my tumor was malignant. I remember it like it was yesterday. That ‘OH CRAP’ moment. That moment when my heart skipped a beat and I felt as if someone knocked the air out of my lungs.

I also remember all the doctor’s appointments and all the planning for the surgery. The moment I was being wheeled down the hallway to the operating room where I would spend the next six and a half hours.

Remembering the very first time I saw my body after the surgery is still a still frame shot in my memory.

What I don’t remember is when all of this stopped being so vivid. When did these things start to slip away from my everyday life. When did I stop thinking about cancer when I get up in the morning or before I go to bed at night?

The first few years I saw my oncologist every six months, keeping the memories fresh. After the five-year mark I was told I only had to see him once a year. Maybe this is when I fully started to recover and lose those daily images.

Sure I would talk about the experience from time to time, but those daily reminders were all mine. Memories and images I kept from my family and friends.

Yesterday I realized that today I would begin my ninth year of cancer free living. I just happened to notice the date on my calendar. It was then I wondered when those constant memories or thoughts had actually left me. I don’t remember.

What I do know is I’m free of the daily cancer thoughts. I now look in the mirror without the onset of what ifs. Even this past year when I had to have my implant replaced, the cancer memories did not come flooding back.

It seems to me I have been free of the daily thoughts for a long time but then the whole experience seems like another lifetime ago, so I’m not sure.

I hope if you are reading this, and you have faced cancer or are facing cancer now, you too will someday realize you are not only living a cancer free life but you will be free of the memories.

The Picket Fence

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Raised in the 50’s and 60’s, like most girls I thought life would be like the movies. I would meet the man of my dreams, we would fall in love, we would marry, have children and live happily ever after in the big white house with the white picket fence.

However, something called living life came alone and that movie had a different script writer. There were problems with the man of my dreams although we did fall in love and marry. Seems his dreams and mine weren’t the same.

Through years of working hard to make ends meet and learning things the hard way, one comes to an understanding with life. No matter how you try, bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. Make plans and you will find out just how quickly fast life will laugh at those plans. Learn to roll with the punches and laugh at the crappy times because laughing is much easier than crying.

Although I never got that big white house with the white picket fence, I have so much more. I have been fairly healthy in my life, except for the few times things tried to kill me. I survived and laughed along the way. I kissed a lot of frogs before I found the best frog, as none of us are princes or princesses. We are all human, all trying to figure out this strange thing we call life.

I’m a parent and just like life, I spent her childhood trying to figure out what parenting was all about. I don’t know how I did it, as I had no clue of what I was doing, however when I look at my adult daughter I puff up with pride.

She is my white picket fence that surrounds me with love and happiness. She is what kept me together through all those times I wanted to give up. Maybe I’m her big white house that she comes home to now and again to find comfort in my arms with a big loving mom hug.

My life might have turned out far different from what I pictured in my youth but I would not trade what I have for anything else. There is no amount of money that can buy a loving relationship with parents and their adult children.

We Just Needed A Road Trip!

Girls in Payson 2016 Jan

Yesterday we loaded the girls up in the truck and headed north of our home in the Phoenix Valley. I was in dire need of a road trip. Our destination: Payson, Arizona.

Even as we were leaving the valley, we could see a bit of snow on the tops of the mountains to the north, which gave me hope of playing in the white stuff.  I was not disappointed and either were the girls. As we climbed from 1,200 feet in elevation to almost 5,000 feet above sea level, we started seeing patched of snow along the roadway.

When we arrived in Payson, we delayed our lunch and drove around different parts of town. It didn’t take us long to find a less traveled road leading to the top of a ridge, where we could park and allow the girls and myself time to frolic in the snow. (The girls pictured above, Fuzzy and Muddy Brown Dog.)

Having not walked or even seen snow since we left our beloved Montana, I was tickled to see the girls dashing into the four or five inches of snow with their tails wagging. They turned and looked at me as if to say, “Come on Mom!” I joined them, making them snowballs to chase.  We played in the snow until their paws and my shoes were soaking wet, but despite my cold feet, it was well worth it.

Seems a road trip to someplace I have never seen was just what the doctor ordered to perk me up from my winter blahs. Meeting friendly people, seeing things I haven’t seen before, playing in the snow, taking a short walk along a creek bank, and making plans to go back in the spring, was good medicine. The clean mountain air could have something to do with it also.

Payson is a bit off the beaten trail from what most people visit in Arizona, however I can hardly wait to go back, when we can spend more time and see more of the area, including more time in the surrounding mountains.

Winter blahs gone and feeling ten years younger this morning, I might get some writing done on the manuscript I started weeks ago. Well for sure, I’ll get the laundry done today!

There’s Always Tomorrow, Hopefully

WTH

Are you kidding me? It’s the 14th of January, 2016? What happened to the first 13 days of this new year? Honestly, I have no clue.

It was just yesterday I was planning on the new year and scheduling time everyday to write. I have managed to put 7,000 words to print. Every single day there has been something come up that has kept me away from my writing. Doctor’s appointments, phone calls, repairmen, yard workers, dog groomers, vet appointments, and grocery shopping. I did manage to get the furniture dusted today. Now my husband can’t leave me notes on the table tops.

When I retired, time management fell to the wayside. I have no idea how people think they will be bored when they retire. I have less time to accomplish things during the day than when I was working full time outside the house. What the hell happened?

Then there this problem with eating. If we didn’t have to eat I would have more time. Less trips to the grocery store, less time spent cooking and cleaning up, and less time eating. Why wasn’t I born as one of those women that say, “I forgot to eat.”  How in the hell does one forget to eat?

Then there’s the time spent on hygiene. We do spend a lot of time in the shower, then all the time spent afterwards, dressing, fixing the hair, applying a bit of makeup, and cleaning up the bathroom afterwards.  Not to mention all the time I spend washing, drying, folding, ironing, and hanging up clothes.

Since I failed at winning my share of the 1.5 billion dollars on the Power Ball Lottery, I can’t not hire a staff to take care of these things. I didn’t even win enough to take a time management class for seniors.

I will be satisfied with my present time management plan, which is to get up every morning and get as much done until it’s time for me to go to bed. There’s always tomorrow, hopefully!

 

 

Kindness and Support, one small thumbs up at a time.

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I made this little poster a few days ago, however it has raised many questions within myself over the past few days.

Is this even possible in the age of the human race losing their freaking minds?  The internet, which is probably the most powerful tool for education ever invented is being used for everything else. I believe what bothers me the most is so many people post and state garbage as facts and never take the time to investigate if what they just posted is even a true statement. After all Abe Lincoln posted it on Facebook just before he died.

The world is full of college students who can’t find their own country on a global map, have no idea who the President is of their country, do not know where the wars in the middle East are, where their food comes from other than the grocery store, and have no idea how their own government works. Without being able to articulate the language of their choice, when they are challenged their only reframe is to start calling names. How can I expect support and kindness from these generations?

It seemed that just about everything during 2015 at some point offended someone, somewhere. People being offended to the point where they wanted history denied. How can we learn from our history if it’s wiped away? Ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear. Can one be open minded if everything they disagree with offends them?

Kindness is something anyone can express without cost. Never in the history of mankind has it been so easy to say something kindly to someone on the other side of the planet and within seconds and yet many of us fail to do this.  It may cost you some of your time but is your time so precious you have lost your humanity?

Supporting another human being can be as easy as passing on a tweet or a facebook post. Supporting others in the same career field or neighborhood can lift spirits and spread happiness.

Open your mind to new ideas, educate yourself, learn to disagree without degrading others, don’t be offended by other opinions or words, spread some kindness and support other people.

 

 

2015, The Year of the Rat!

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Another year has flown by and here I sit in the same chair, pondering the same things: What did I learn in 2015?

I had some real revelations this past year. I didn’t realize just how nasty and brave people have become using social media. Seems everyone has grown a set when secure and unknown in the privacy of their home or office, typing away on their computer. For the most part, there has been two responses when I have called people on their uninformed or rude comments. One they start calling me names or two, they post more information that has no proof or research to back up their statements. I have sat and wondered if these people would spout such things in person, live, in public? I doubt it very much. The world of the internet has made false bravery in people that really have no substance or backbone.

One the flip side of this, I have found many more kind and supporting people on social media. People I have never met or will probably ever meet, delivering kinds words of support, and kindness. I have come to know people that I have had intelligent conversations with different points of view or beliefs and there was no name-calling or rudeness.

I learned that no matter how long one has been cancer free, once that nastiness has been in your body there is always a bit of fear it might pop up again. That thought might be tucked away, deep in your conscious but it doesn’t take much to bring it to the surface. A simple phone call from your doctor saying they want more test to be done because something didn’t look just right. I also learned that my deep belief of ‘don’t worry until it’s time to worry’ is as strong in me as it has always been. Learning it was nothing was as good as when I was told I was cancer free the first time.

I learned for the most part, all authors I have met on the internet, either Facebook or Twitter are supportive of each other. They pass the word along about a fellow author with style and grace. In a dog eat dog world, this is so refreshing.

2015 has proved to be the year where everything you say and do will offend someone! It doesn’t seem that anyone has a sense of humor, yet everyone knows how to be offended. 2015 has turned out to be the year I stopped caring if what I say or do offends you. That’s your problem, not mine. I’m not hurting anyone, I’m not breaking any laws, and I’m not purposely aiming any insults in your direction. If you that my comments personally, then I suggest you look at your life, not mine. Yes, 2015 has been the year of the rat. As in: I don’t give a rat’s ass if I offended you. Get over it and yourself. I’m too old for the drama. Chuck it to my strange sense of humor and move on. We’ll all be much happier.

What will I carry with me into the New Year? I plan keep on posting things that strike me funny. I will not apologize if these things offend you. I plan to stay in contact with those strangers I call friends of Facebook and followers on Twitter and the people I know, who shine with positive energy. I plan on living by the #TwoLifeRule: Treat others as I want to be treated and mind my own business. This doesn’t mean if you ask me a question I will sugar coat my answer. I’m blunt and to the point. I’ll pull the bullshit card. I will call you crazy, but that’s not a bad thing coming from me. It means you are fun, have a great sense of humor or are a free spirit that I enjoy being around.

I’m sure I have learned much more than this, or maybe not. These days it takes all my memory to remember why I went into a room.

Happy New Year

Hanging On

I was looking back on my posts for 2015 and ran across this one. I thought I would share this again, as the same words are true this year for the up coming 2016. I hope 2016 is better for everyone!

Author K.D. Bloodworth

happy new year

Wishing all my blog readers and my twitter followers a good year. So many things wrong in our world,  some days it’s hard to remember all the abundant good things in our life. I’m suppose I’m one of the lucky people in the world that feels that just waking up every morning is a good thing. No matter what life brings my way, good, bad or indifferent, I’m still happy to be alive.

I have had my share of bad and ugly things in my life, more than some, way less than others. What I have learned that letting go of the bad and ugly and holding on to the good and beautiful is the secret to a happy life.

I have been homeless and I have lived in a big house. I have had way too much to eat and I have been hungry. I have been healthy and I…

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#TwoRuleLife

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You have problems, your neighborhood, your community, your State, and Country has problems. Let’s face it the whole damn world has problems. Fortunately, the big mess can be fixed with a two-rule life style. It doesn’t get any easier.

Rule #1: Treat others, as you want to be treated.

Rule #2: Mind your own business.

The first rule fixes everything! No one wants to be lied to, stolen from, over charged, injured, taken advantage of, yelled at, shot at, pushed around, treated rudely, hit or beaten, cheated, dishonored, or just plain treated badly. Don’t do these things to anyone else!

There ya have it. If you look at all the woes in the world today, they extend from someone not treating someone else as they wish to be treated. From the troubles in the Middle East to the streets of Chicago. From a homeless person in Paris to an out of work person in Korea. Somewhere along the line, someone isn’t treating someone right.

Second rule: mind your own business. If everyone in the world would stop trying to force their opinions and beliefs on others and just mind their own business the world would be such a peaceful place.

If I’m following rule #1 and treating everyone kindly, then what I do with my life shouldn’t be any of your business. Likewise, if you are following rule #1, then what you do in your life isn’t any of my business.

In following rule #1, I’m pretty sure you won’t be breaking any laws. If you’re not breaking any laws then it’s not anyone’s business what you are doing, in your religion, your work, your hobbies, or your life style. Got it?

If I could change one thing in 2016, I would have the whole world to live by the Two Rule Life. It sounds too simple however; it really is that simple if you take a good long look at our world today.

Apply the Two Rules to your life and see how much better things become. Not only is it simple, it’s not going to cost you a dime! A better life and a better world for free!

A Christmas Love Story

This was true last year, true this year. A love story for all times. Happy Anniversary tomorrow Mom and Dad. I do miss you so.

Author K.D. Bloodworth

Dave and Virginia 1939

The year was 1939, Fort Smith Arkansas. Historians have a lot to say about that year. War breaking out in Europe was the main concern for many but just getting by day-to-day was a way of life for many.

On average things looked good for people across the nation. One could buy a new house for $3,800. A new car would drop you back a good $700 but you could fill that car up with gasoline costing you ten cents a gallon.  One could leave a grocery store with bags full of groceries for just a few dollars.  A loaf of bread could be bought for eight cents and hamburger was fourteen cents a pound. I might have been in big trouble being able to buy coffee at three pounds for thirty-nice cents. The Wizard of Oz and Gone With The Wind came out that year. Americans could see the movie for twenty-three cents.

It…

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To Text or to Twitter?

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Trying to close the generation gap is now harder than what my parents experienced. I have learned this by trying to communicate through texting and on Twitter with 140 characters. Although I feel as if I’m raging a good fight, I think the battle is being lost.

I’m from a generation of woman that spent hours on the phone in deep conversation with people I had just spent hours at school with or had just worked eight hours together. I find myself trying to text or Tweet the same conversations and it’s just not working.

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog Hope your Saturday is going well. We are doing fine here in the Valley, #Christmas is upon us and the new year i

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog s closing in on us. I’m not sure where the year went. How are things on your end? Do you have some extra time off

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog for the holidays? Holidays are so much more fun since I retired. No rushing around, no stress and time for relaxi

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog ng. Geese, remember when we did all that decorating, cooking and traveling during the holidays? It was much easie

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog r when we were younger. Speaking of being younger, have you mastered this twitter thing and the phone texting? I

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog got a text from my daughter last night and before I could answer her question I received three more text. Within

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog seconds I was behind and so confused I didn’t know what answers went to what questions. I’m not sure why young pe

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog ople these days would rather text than pick up the phone and talk. Does anyone know how to have a conversation th

#Goodmorning #Saturdayblog ese days? Oh, I must run, just got a text from the kids. Hope you are having a good day. I’ll try and call after

 

The kid: Hey mom, are you up?

The kid: How are you feeling today?

Me: yes

The kid: I hope better than yesterday. We are on our way shopping.

Me: fine

The kid: Getting the last of the Christmas stuff done

Me: Much better, thanks

The kid: Did you get my text last night?

The kid: We were at dinner and people were asking about you.

Me: You going to the mall?

The kid: We had a great time. Wish you had been there.

The kid: We’re here, I’ll text you later. Luv U

Me: What Christmas stuff left to do?

Well, I’ll just call the kid. Dialing…….dialing…..dialing….

“Your call has been transferred to automatic answering, please leave a message at the tone.”

 

 

 

The Way It Should Be

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With the Christmas holiday just a week away, I find myself reminiscing of Christmas’s past. I suppose we all do this as we age. Why should I be any different.

Years long past when my thoughts of Santa leaving me that special gift that I had wished he would bring. Little did I know how long my parents had saved and done without in order to place a few extra items under that Christmas tree.  In fact, it wasn’t until my father had passed away and I was helping my mom go through some old files that I ran across some old lay-away receipts.  Payments made on an eight dollar sled for a Christmas gift for me brought everything to light.

My parents lived through the great depression and knew what it was like to go to bed hungry or to wear shoes that didn’t fit. Something they vowed to never let their children experience and they kept that vow. I didn’t know how they had struggled or what all they had done without. I didn’t know the things they did was out of necessity in order to save money or to have more. Growing our own food and putting it up for the winter was a money saving necessity not a hobby. Sewing our clothes wasn’t a pastime or hobby either.

I didn’t know we had less money as other families because our table was always full, our home always warm, our needs always made and we knew we were always loved.

As I look back I understand that I wasn’t only fortunate at Christmas time but my parents made sure love was in our home all year long.

After all, isn’t that they way life should be?

Snippet Saturday

 

heart pounding

My conscious mind told me I was awake, but I refused to open my eyes. If I kept them closed, maybe the pain would go away. My body felt as if someone had beaten me. I assumed I was sitting on the floor, my right hand still attached to the bedpost. My left hand confirmed my ass was on the floor. My head was throbbing in different places from before. I touched my forehead to find a goose-egg-sized bump. At some point, the bump had bled, as my fingers touched something sticky.

I opened my eyes to calculate my injuries. Looking at the palms of my hands, I found oozing scrapes and splinters of some kind embedded in the fleshy heels. My clothes were filthy and cuttings of my hair still clung to the material. My jeans were pulled up but the snap and zipper were unfastened. The knees of my jeans were laid open, with my bloody kneecaps showing through. My brain flashed the blind crawl up the stone stairs.

It was then I noticed the pain radiating from between my legs. I shifted my weight, trying to ease the pains shooting upwards into my body, when the memory………………

Getting to know Me, part two

Dawn 1970

Yep, this was me, too many years ago that I wish to admit. I look at this photo and ask myself how did forty-five years fly by so quickly? It almost seems impossible.

The year was 1970. The place: Brighton, Michigan. I was heading to work and my mother snapped this after telling me to strike a pose. No I wasn’t going to work on the nearest street corner. Yes, it was a mini dress and I was working as a barmaid/bartender at the local watering hole. If you are too naive to understand that short skirts and low cut tops increases the tip jar at the end of the shift, then you probably are a feminist or too young to work.  My weekly paycheck after taxes netted out to about $52. I made three or four times that amount in tips most weeks. I was in high cotton for the time. (I was doing well)

I was still living at home, had no real bills, and thought I knew everything. Wow, I was dumb! I suppose most adults look back at their lives at that age and probably think the same things.

I spent my afternoons riding motorcycles, going to the beach, or just sleeping until time to get ready for work. I went to work at five in the evening. Why I ever thought being an adult was easy I have no clue. Being responsible turned out to be hard work too.

However, this was the year before I escaped being both an adult and responsible by taking off on a cross-country pool playing adventure with my husband. I learned a lot that year and a half. I saw things I never wanted to see again. I experienced life at its best and at its darkest. We had plenty of money and we went broke. I laughed and I cried. I was bold and fearless but also scared out of my mind.

I came back to Michigan a little wiser but still far from being grown up. I suppose I’m a hard learner. Nope, I learned everything the hard way. I still need things to beat me over the head a few times before they sink in.

Six years later I was divorced, had a two year old, and was working for an oil company which would start a twenty-five year career in management.

My only regret on the years from 1969 – 1979 was that I failed to keep a journal. I always wondered who would want to read about this crap. Now I’m trying to write from memories. That’s harder than being an adult.