A NON-ANECDOTAL LIFE

I keep getting congratulated for taking the “less traveled road.” But it’s not true.

Sometimes, I took a back road because it was the shortest road to where I was going. More often, I traveled highways, because they offered the fastest, most direct routes.

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Always a pragmatist, I was goal-driven. I don’t remember thinking about if it was a more or less traveled path. Sometimes, I made a good choice. The rest of the time, I did the best I could with whatever mess I’d gotten myself into.

I’ve had an interesting life, but not as interesting as it probably sounds. I don’t talk about the boring parts because they’re boring. That’s the thing about blogging. You get to write your life and leave out the tedious stuff.

I don’t write about staying up late cleaning when I wanted desperately to go to bed. Because there was work in the morning. I had to make the kid’s lunch, get him on the bus. Make sure the dog didn’t eat his homework.

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All the parties I didn’t attend because I couldn’t find a babysitter … or was too tired to think about going anywhere. The nights I fell asleep in front of the television, unable to keep my eyes open past the opening credits.

I had good times. Exciting, weird, funny experiences. Tragedies and triumphs interspersed with long hours, short nights, and exploring the wonders of all-night supermarkets.

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Most of life isn’t memorable. It doesn’t bear retelling. My life was just like yours, whoever you are, whatever you did. Most lives are more alike than different.

I’ve had my share of crappy relationships, horrible bosses, and tedious jobs. I had a husband and child to raise, groceries to buy, a house to clean. I was lucky because I also had wonderful friends who were there for me when the going was tough.

Don’t be misled by anecdotes. Between the anecdotes is where life really happens.

STRANGE? WHO ARE YOU CALLING STRANGE?

Blogger in a Strange Land

Strange?

You men like Maine? Connecticut? Vermont? Virginia? Pennsylvania? New York? Maryland? New Hampshire? Amherst?

outer space

I doubt any of the lower 48 states would count as strange in anyone’s book. Of course, there’s that time I was abducted by aliens and posted from  a modest satellite planet in orbit about Betelgeuse, but that’s another story …

THEY FOLLOW ME EVERWHERE

I’M A SINGULAR SENSATION 

The news has been slow around here. Just regular stuff. Accidents, government stupidity and incompetence, scandals of the famous and wannabes. Changes in weather. Boston has a new mayor, too. So after all this ordinary stuff, I was thrilled to find this headline. From Dublin across the seas, this pops up on my browser:

Italian lodger tells police he is ‘guilty’ of cannibal murder

Saverio Bellante is remanded in custody after gruesome killing in Dublin

I bet our newscasters would be really happy to have a shot at something this juicy. Yum. Since the demise of Jeffrey Dahmer, there hasn’t been an incredibly disgusting, gory serial murderer to liven up the news cycle.

That got me wondering about today’s prompt which asks us who we would want — of all the possible readers and followers — to be reading our blog. This isn’t bragging, but I know a few of my favorite authors drop round here now and again, usually when I review one of their books or feature an interview with one of them. I know because they send me little thank you notes, probably advisable for any author that gets a really good review from any reviewer. We are prima donnas no less than they and we feed our hungry egos with the cast off kudos of the great and nearly great.

But how cool to be followed by a cannibal? It would be a coup. Definitely would come with bragging rights!

Garry Clean Harbors-SMALL

While Garry was a working reporter, we occasionally got phone calls late at night from convicted serial killers, sometimes critiquing his performance du jour. Turns out, they watched him on the telly. Who’d have guessed that serial killers have phone privileges? Icing on the cake?

Perpetrators of gruesome murders currently on trial would wave and wink at him in the courtroom. I’m sure all the other reporters were jealous. Aside from being intensely creepy, it always made me wonder if their fondness for my husband and his work would count for or against us if they were to get loose and drop by for a visit. They obviously knew how and where to track him down. Find Garry? Find me too.

Garry with Tip O'Neill

Garry with Tip O’Neill

On second thought, I wouldn’t be surprised to discover I’m a major hit in the prison system. It would explain the thousand or so followers who remain nameless and never leave comments or even a “like.”

Personally, I’d prefer to be followed (breathlessly, eagerly) by a power player in the literary world. An agent!

SERENDIPITOUS PHOTO STORY PROMPT – I SHOULD STOP TRYING

SERENDIPITOUS PHOTO STORY PROMPT –
WEDNESDAY – 2015 #5 – I SHOULD STOP TRYING

I’ve decided to do this once weekly. I will publish it out every Wednesday (because Wednesday is the middle of the week). Yes, that’s the real reason.

Please try to add your own ping back (links). If you aren’t sure how to do it, put your link in a comment. That works too.

Every Wednesday or until I throw in the towel, I’ll publish a picture and write something about it. You can use any of my pictures — or one of your own — as a prompt. If you find my subject interesting, by all means, extrapolate. Any length is acceptable from a couple of sentences, to a chapter from your upcoming novel.

Please link it back to this post (ping back) so other people can find it.

What do I mean by “story” and “pictures”?

Story. Words. Poetry, prose, fact, or fiction. A couple of lines, a fanciful tale.

Pictures. Video if that’s your thing. Scanned pictures from your scrap-book. Weird pictures from the internet. Cartoons. Pictures of your family vacation and how the bear stole your food. Any picture you ever took and would like to talk about.

SIMPLE

It sounds simple. It is simple. Every picture has a story or ought to. There are no rules. Follow my lead, ignore me, follow someone else’s idea. Any picture plus some text. Short or long, truth or fiction. Prose or poetry.

One final thing: If you want to get notices of these posts, you’ll have to subscribe to Serendipity. I’ll try to title relevant posts so you can easily recognize them.

My effort for this week follows.


 I SHOULD STOP TRYING
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Garry took the picture that first warm day of spring, the first warm day since winter. It was our first photo excursion, the first time anyone could go out in short sleeves. The snow was gone. Finally. No leaves yet, but you could see buds if you looked carefully.

Two weeks later , the leaves have exploded. Even the oaks are in full leaf, heavy with foliage. The lilacs are blooming, tulips are bright in the garden. The sun filters gently through the trees.

Garry is in New York, visiting one of his brothers. I am not invited. We will have been married 25 years this September and somehow, I have never managed to become part of the family. After all these years, you’d think it wouldn’t hurt so much, wouldn’t you?

It’s time for me to stop trying to fit in. Fit into what? I don’t even know what that means. I’m too old for this nonsense.

SERENDIPITOUS PHOTO STORY PROMPT – 2015 #4 – ON MEDICAL ADVICE

SERENDIPITOUS PHOTO STORY PROMPT –
WEDNESDAY – 2015 #4 – MEDICAL ADVICE

I’ve decided to do this once weekly. I will publish it out every Wednesday (because Wednesday is the middle of the week). Yes, that’s the real reason.

Please try to add your own ping back (links). If you aren’t sure how to do it, put your link in a comment. That works too.

Every Wednesday or until I throw in the towel, I’ll publish a picture and write something about it. You can use any of my pictures — or one of your own — as a prompt. If you find my subject interesting, by all means, extrapolate. Any length is acceptable from a couple of sentences, to a chapter from your upcoming novel.

Please link it back to this post (ping back) so other people can find it.

What do I mean by “story” and “pictures”?

Story. Words. Poetry, prose, fact, or fiction. A couple of lines, a fanciful tale.

Pictures. Video if that’s your thing. Scanned pictures from your scrap-book. Weird pictures from the internet. Cartoons. Pictures of your family vacation and how the bear stole your food. Any picture you ever took and would like to talk about.

SIMPLE

It sounds simple. It is simple. Every picture has a story or ought to. There are no rules. Follow my lead, ignore me, follow someone else’s idea. Any picture plus some text. Short or long, truth or fiction. Prose or poetry.

One final thing: If you want to get notices of these posts, you’ll have to subscribe to Serendipity. I’ll try to title relevant posts so you can easily recognize them.

My effort for this week follows.


MEDICAL ADVICE

I’ve had a hard decade and a half. The past 15 years have featured one life-and-death medical emergency after another. Just over a year ago, I went into Beth Israel Deaconess in Boston.

The cardiac surgeon replaced my mitral valve, performed a bypass and a cardio-myectomy, also known as a septal myectomy. For dessert, they installed a pacemaker because my heart has forgotten how to beat without an electronic reminder.

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I’m much better. My energy is coming back. I’m five-years post cancer — a big milestone for cancer patients. And my cardiologist says I’m doing great.

A week ago, my PCP demanded I show up and have a physical. Since he was holding my prescriptions hostage, I went.

Complaints aside, I’m a compliant patient. I have too many dangerous medical conditions to mess around with anything. So, I whine and bitch, but I take my medications on schedule and in the correct amounts. I am cautious about anything health-related.

I eat healthy. I don’t have much of a choice. Sugar free. No soft drinks. Don’t eat cake. Don’t have chocolate. I have complicated digestive issues after two bariatric surgeries, so there are a lot of things I can’t digest. I eat very little.

Imagine my dismay when my doctor sent me a letter informing me I have high blood sugar. I am “pre-diabetic.” Under other circumstances, I wouldn’t have been surprised. All 6 of m y father’s siblings were diabetic, so I knew it was a strong possibility it would strike me at some point. Having gotten this far, I thought … Well, maybe I just wasn’t thinking.

I’ve been hypoglycemic my entire life. “Low blood sugar” is not the opposite of “high blood sugar,” aka diabetes. Both conditions mean your body doesn’t properly manage sugar, which is why I eat like a diabetic. After all the shit I’ve been through, I thought I was entitled to — if not a pass — at least a respite. Time off for good behavior.

Somehow, I have to lose at least 10 pounds. It’s going to be an epic summer. I really know how to have fun.

SERENDIPITOUS PHOTO STORY PROMPT – WEDNESDAY, 2015 #3

SERENDIPITOUS PHOTO STORY PROMPT –
WEDNESDAY – 2015 #3 – A  Story of Nan

I’ve decided to do this once weekly. I will endeavor to put it out every Wednesday. Because Wednesday is the middle of the week. I have no better reason, but anyone who can give me one, I’ll use it.

I’m not quite sure why I decided to do this prompt. I’m sure it started with the Daily Prompt — which is limp, unimaginative, and sometimes slightly offensive.

Maybe I was lulled into thinking it was easy by how many other bloggers manage one or more challenges, yet apparently retain active lives away from the computer. I’m sure, after all my blathering about how feeble WordPress’s editors are, I needed to prove myself less feeble.

Garry with Terriers - Dogs

I am not convinced I am achieving that goal, but I am trying. However ineptly. My effort for this week follows.

Please try to add your own links. If you aren’t sure, put your link in a comment and I will add it manually at the first opportunity. Don’t get too bent out of shape if it takes me a few hours. I am not always at the computer. It may seem I am. but actually, I’m away for whole days sometimes. I know you don’t believe me.


 A TALE OF NAN:  OLD DOG, OLD BLOGGER

I remind me of my little dog Nan. She is 15 and deaf. Going blind. She isn’t always sure who we are, or for that matter, who she is.

Biscuit time - All dogs

Which is why sometimes, in the middles of attempting to go down the stairs, she decides she can fly and leaps into the air. It’s super dog … splat. I try to grab her and not let her go down on her own. Every time she splats, my guilt level goes off the charts.

That’s analogous to how I decided to create a prompt/challenge. I thought I was super blogger.

Splat.

NAN Norwich Terrier dog biscuit

 

A few days ago, we had Bonnie and Nan groomed. They smell good, feel good … and it won’t last. I wanted to get a few pictures, but as usual, it went badly.

The moment I pull out a camera, they charge forward. I drafted Garry to hang on to them … then he had the brilliant idea of tempting them with biscuits. These are the results.


I like telling stories linked to pictures. To help the process along, every Wednesday or until I throw in the towel, I’ll publish a picture and write something about it. Some days, it may be long, others day, just a couple of sentences. You can use any of my pictures — or one of your own — as the prompt. If you find the subject interesting, by all means, extrapolate.

Please link it back to this post (ping back) so other people can find it.

What do I mean by “story” and “pictures”?

Story. Words. Poetry, prose, fact, or fiction. A couple of lines, a fanciful tale.

Pictures. Video if that’s your thing. Scanned pictures from your scrap-book. Weird pictures from the internet. Cartoons. Pictures of your family vacation and how the bear stole your food. Any picture you ever took and would like to talk about

What to write about?

Your trip to Paris. You flight from Irkutsk. You favorite dog, cat, ferret, cockatoo. The weird boyfriend you had in high school. The last book you read, the next book you plan to read, why you don’t read books (but you write them)(don’t write them)(would like to write them).

Television shows, movie stars, classic film, history, language. Fiction, non-fiction. Everything, anything as long as you include a picture and some text.

SIMPLE

It sounds simple because it is simple. Every picture has a story or ought to. There are no rules. You are free to follow my lead, ignore me, follow someone else’s idea. Any picture plus some text will do it. Short or long, truth or fiction. Prose or poetry.

One final thing: If you want to get notices of these posts, you’ll have to subscribe to Serendipity. I’ll try to title relevant posts so you can easily recognize them.

MY BIBLE BUMP – THE CYST ON MY WRIST, REDUX

I’ve got a bible cyst (also known as a bible bump) on my left wrist. No kidding. It’s not quite as funny as it sounds.

It has been a nuisance for a while. Since the last round of life and death heart surgery, it has moved down the priority list from a serious problem to a minor aggravation. Everything is relative.

It’s been on my wrist for years. It’s annoying. It came and went (typical behavior for cysts) and has made it impossible to wear a watch. Hardly a medical emergency.

This is a ganglion cyst on the inner right wri...

One day, about two years ago, it blew up. Got huge. Too much typing? It hurt when I moved the wrist.

I talked to the doctor about it. He thought I should address the cyst and the arthritis in my hands at the same time.

Before that happened, the cyst deflated — and my heart blew up. It’s two years later. A lot of heart surgery, but I’ve still got the cyst, which still comes and goes. Sometimes it hurts, other times it itches. I live with it. I have bigger things on my plate.

What makes it a Bible Cyst? 

Ganglion cysts, typically located on wrists (though sometimes on knees, fingers or toes) are known as “bible cysts,” alternatively as  “Gideon’s disease.”

Why? Glad you asked. In the good old days, the treatment for ganglion cysts was to give them a hard whack with a heavy book, breaking the cyst and draining it. Since the bible was usually the heaviest book in the house (often the only book), though I’ve heard a full-size dictionary, Oxford or Webster, will do the job just fine. You see the connection, right?

Somehow, getting whacked on the cyst with a heavy book seems a solution I’d rather skip.

Ironically, the old “whack the cyst with the bible” apparently works every bit as well as any modern surgery. Better. Cysts thus whacked rarely return. I suspect the whackee would never tell anyone if it did recur. One bible whacking is probably enough for any wrist.

It gives a new meaning to the expression “bible thumper”!