Monday, August 31, 2015

Acetylcholine. Leukocyte. Sphygomomanometer.

Prefixes, suffixes, and roots. Polysyllabic words with origins steeped in Latin or Greek languages. Words are my friends. But these are like friends with whom one hasen't spoken in a very long time; the rhythm is off, the quality . . stilted. 

And then there are triggers.  My mother spent a lot of time with medical providers throughout her life. The last twenty were especially prolific with visits, procedures, diagnoses, and medications. Until finally:  


The next few modules should present less emotionally charged material. I've read through part of The Urinary System and so far, so-so. Onward.   

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Monday, August 17, 2015

Summer Daze

by Boyan Marinov 

I like summer. Most days. I am, however getting tired of nearly bare and fully bare feet. FYI. Carry on.  Such was a FB status update a few days ago. A few likes and one comment: yours of others? To which I replied:

The feet of others 

I was on a bus. Tired, unable to distract (or engage) myself otherwise, I looked down and saw all manner of shoe wear displaying all manner of feet. It isn't that I hate feet. I don't. Feet are incredibly useful. I just do not like feet. I mean, they are generally unattractive and I haven't seen one (or a pair) made less so with a sandal or flip-flop. Which, by the way, should be outlawed.

In other news, a co-worker decided it'd be a grand idea if we had a potluck. We have had them before at the office, so not unprecedented. She, relatively new to the office presented it as a "Kum-Bah-Yah" team building opp . . . yada x 3. It's cool. While I do not get overly excited of the idea of diving into the dishes of relative strangers, I am generally game. There are typically enough participants who sign up with chips and (store bought) salsa and national chain chicken shack type offerings to balance things out.

My pasta, whole kernel corn, black and pinto bean, tomato, bell pepper (yellow and orange) red pepper flakes, cumin, chili powder, onion powder, Italian dressing (I choose zesty) and salt to taste salad was a quick, easy, tasty, portable way to go. It has gone before and so, go it went. Again.

Thursday, the day before Potluck day, potluck planner / hostess talked about her designs to go into business selling her famous jerk chicken tacos. It struck me that the potluck (her contribution: jerk chicken tacos) was, in addition to the KUM BAH YAH, a way to present her product toward creating a buzz, and perhaps. finding backers for her venture.

I tried one and, well, let's just say, I'm glad there was my salad, chicken from a national chain, chips and salsa . .

Plus, she wore sandals or flip-flops (which, by the way, should be outlawed) ever single day last week. 

#MicroBlog Monday     Link to the salad basic salad recipe added. I tweak it to my taste by using different tomatos and / or more chili powder. 

Monday, August 10, 2015

Dream Driving

Once we were lovers, but somehow things have changed, now we're just lonely people, trying to forget each other's names.

For many days leading in and for a few after my birthday, I awoke with this song creeping out of the corners of my mind. Birthdays, like New Year's bring about the thoughts, a look through the rear view as well as ahead.

And thoughts often revolve around relationships--past, present, and future--for relationships are life.

All the past relationships, intimate and otherwise, hold some fond memories--more hurt--but some pockets of pleasure, as well. It is the pleasures on which I choose to dwell. There is no present intimate relationship, and to be honest, I don't see such an event on the road ahead. But, just because I don't see it doesn't mean IT isn't out there waiting for me to drive through. I keep the trunk stocked, just in case.

I get along pretty well with my son and daughter. I love them, of course. But, I like them a bunch. And they seem to like me which works out really well. And while it is stress filled having the three of us (plus two cats and a 55 pound dog) under the same roof, everyone is respectful and . . well, humor wins the day--most days. Relationships with other family and friends are continual works in progress. I work to nurture all my relationships. Still, every now and again, even with extreme care, relationships fade. . .

. . . and then there is me, learning to embrace the skin I'm in, to appreciate the square peg-nacity that I bring to the round party, to drive my lane, at my own speed, in my own vehicle--nurturing the relationship with my own true self, for that . . . well, is life.

And sometimes at night I think I hear you calling my name, Mmm, mmm, mmm, these dreams, they keep me going these days*

*These Dreams written by Jim Croce.


Monday, August 03, 2015

Celebrate Good Times, Come On*

 The beginnings of a birthday feast. 

My daughter's gifted me with her talents, her company, wrapped around a baseball game. 
(NYYanks over the ChiSox) and fireworks. 
It was a fun day, a fun and restorative weekend. 

Officially Fifty-Five and feeling pretty good. 

*thank you Kool&TheGang
#MicroBlog Monday  click the link for more MicroBlogs. :-)