I wish I hadn't found the two old books Their stories upset me and took me to a dark place I really didn't want to go. "Civilization is a hopeless race to discover remedies for the evils it produces."--Jean Jacques Rousseau I have become a scavenger constantly looking through the shelves of old shops and …
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Mining for My Soul and Discovering the Souls of Others
I had a hole in my heart. I could feel it. The world was getting back to normal but on a personal level I didn't know what that meant for me. Was I suffering a form of PTS? I felt numb, aimless. I had great ideas for my blog but after many attempts to write …
Continue reading Mining for My Soul and Discovering the Souls of Others
Dark Bar Rooms and Rainbows, A Fish Story
When I was newly divorced and my kids were off to college I used to go to a place with a band every Friday evening with my single female friends. Heads up and stomachs sucked in, we pretended to be aloof. Neon beer signs, the tiny red dots on the sound equipment, and a street …
Snowy Rural America-Why Do I Stay?
Being involved with the rural North Country is like being in a bad love affair. The summer woos me with warm breezes off one of The Great Lakes and the river. It offers me lush greens and sunlit days. It entices me with a multitude of lavish experiences: picnics under the trees, quiet moments on …
Free the Bonsai, Free Me
One day when I was 46, I decided to hike all 46 of The High Peaks of the Adirondacks. I tend to live out my life in headlines, always proclaiming a new interest with passion and bursts of wild enthusiasm. So 46 at 46! The coincidence had a certain mystical quality to it and I …
A Covid Captive’s Search for Meaning
Writing is a kind of therapy for me. It gives me a chance to sort out thoughts, face my emotions, and define feelings. But this week I find it difficult to write. I cried as I watched the events on January 6th. Since then, I have watched the news and the talking heads, trying understand …
The Sun in the Midst of Darkness
I know when I go off the deep end. I can tell when my soul has crossed over to something numb or, worse yet, into the darkness. The warning signs show themselves in the condition of my house. Bed not made. Clothes on the floor. Dishes, pots, and utensil in a mess on the counter. …
The Escape of the Covid Captive
I woke up and actually didn't know what to do with myself. It was early September 2020, the nineth month of the worldwide pandemic. I had cleaned out drawers and closets, cut down the understory around my house, sewn masks, painted a picture, lost four pounds on Noom, and relearned how to make yeast bread. …
NonPolitical Rantings from a Covid Captive
Many times over the past few years, I'd say 7 or 8 times, I have received phone calls from my political party asking for a donation. Each time I've told the the solicitor that I wouldn't give money unless I could talk to someone about my concerns. All 7 or 8 times no one ever …
Worries of a Covid Captive Grandma
Before the pandemic, unless I was traveling, I would see my grandkids every other week. I would arrive at their house at noon, stay overnight and then leave around noon the next day. Since the new normal, I have only seen them two times for a total of less hours than I could count on …