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 |   Poetry and Prose about life, family, thoughts & Lesbian concerns of heart |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Come in for a visit. I write about my life as a daughter, mom, grandmother, friend and life partnership with my lesbian wife. You may smile, laugh or cry, either way you'll have learned about life in America since 1938. ANN And, my friend, I understand because all my silent years I was so deep into my church and Christian activities and feared 'sin' and felt shame when 'sex' was mentioned. Nobody spoke of the "horrible" sin they would not name (the rape of a child); At the same time, I watched ministers and deacons and Sunday School teachers sneaking around committing adultery, while I desired and lived 'without sin' as I knew sin to be as I was taught. I thought and studied the Bible and realized how today's preachers and teachers condemn only what they don't do or what a church leader has said to condemn; I've seen the woman run out of the church but not the man; I saw enough, and I knew the heart of love within me, from all through my life had its focus; it was never about 'having sex'. ...Heck, I didn't know about homosexuality until my college years; then I understood my heart and there was never a sexual thought associated with anyone before my marriage to the man who 'chased' me three years then almost murdered me 16 years later as my children heard the physical fight. After that I stayed single Mom, never dated, just had many friends and my children. Finally after raising my grandson, and knowing my own heart would never ever seek love from a man, I acknowledged that all my life, all of my relationship experiences and feelings clearly showed I had a heart that was drawn romantically with deep love that I could not ever express. Then I moved to Portland, came out and you know you can read the rest of the story. I know how God created my heart. If I don't believe God created me as I am, how could I live? It has nothing to do with 'doing' anything at all; it is 'being' as my Creator created me. ............................................................................................................................................................................................................ I retired in Idaho then moved to Oregon to show my pride as a member of the latest hated group across America: I am a lesbian and when I came "Out at Sixty", I came with pride and joy that I no longer had to hold the secret or carry the shame thrown at gay men and lesbians. With that same pride, I accept all persons and their right to be who they are and live with joy, peace, and the pursuit of happiness. I took a writing course at age 69 and began to write short stories, poems, essays, Op-ed comps and I found Writing.com where I am an Advocacy Writer, writing as an advocate for every person to have Civil and God-given rights each day as they pursue happiness for themselves and their families. Yes, most of my writing has been about gays and lesbians, however, I believe every person in the world shares the same heart and spirit to live peaceably with all peace loving people; while seeking to change the minds of those who live with anger, hatred, prejudice, racism and such. |
| Jan 25 Day 433 January 25, 2014 Writing Prompt On January 25th, 1924 the first Winter Olympics were held in Chamonix, France. Prompt: How many countries do you believe competed? What events were held? Did your favorite events exist back then? It is National Opposite Day in case you are wondering. The first Olympics with a different name opened in France in January 1924 when my mother wasn't quite four years of age. She played on the high school basketball team every Friday night before a crowded gymnasium and in the state tournament too. She left school after the 1936 basketball season because she and my father who had graduated met once to often maybe at the creek below and between their homes. Fortunately, his old sister and her husband befriended them, signed and stood with them for the marriage then drove them to California to visit an aunt and uncle while their first baby was born. I followed almost twelve months later and was born in Oklahoma. Neither Mom or Dad participated further in sports but they never missed watching the Olmpics from the day the bought their first television in the 1950's. The uniforms of the sixteen nations, including only eleven women among 247 boys, were far different than these days. Back then, the girls had to cover most of their skin to be modest enough for the rest of their skin to be seen. The boys didn't have much that needed covering; today they have even less, I guess, because their uniforms are even smaller. OOOPS, I'm thinking of the OPPOSITE Summer Olympics and swimwear.  Ice skating including speed skating won by and American, cross country and Nordic combined skiing, and ice hockey with Canada defeating the United States team six to one. My favorite of winter olympics are the skiing events; I'm always amazed as the skier flies through the air with the greatest of ease from the ski jumps. Of course when U.S> is in a tight competition for the goal, ice hockey takes my primary interest. During high school I loved girls' athletics. Living in California, skiing was available but only for those family=ies with the dollars to spare and they took a bus to the skii areas on weekends. That was the one thing I wanted to do so badly those years, but it was out of my reach. With four teenagers in the family and my dear father an alcoholic, I was lucky to have the clothes and books I purchased from money earned climbing ladders and picking apricots and peaches, at sixteen worked grave shift at the cannery, and a few hours a week as store clerk. No money for playing, not when I was planning on college. Skiing was just never in my reach so I get my ski entertainment when the Olympics happen. I so admire those who set their hearts on competition early in their lives and train to compete in the world event as they grow older. What a dream it must be when they first hold a medal. ann copied from HIstory on Facebook: On January 25, 1924, the first Winter Olympics kick off in the Alpine village of Chamonix, France. Originally conceived as "International Winter Sports Week," the Chamonix games were held in association with the 1924 Summer Olympics, held in Paris, and boasted 258 athletes (247 men and 11 women) from 16 nations, competing in a total of 18 events. In the opening ceremonies, held on January 25, the athletes gave their oaths of amateurism to Gaston Vidal, France's under-secretary of state for physical education. They then marched with their teams in a parade from Chamonix's City Hall to the Olympic ice skating rink. After Vidal declared the official opening of the games in front of around 5,000 spectators, 150 athletes took to the ice for a celebration. Top skaters from the U.S., Canada, Norway and Finland held an impromptu race around the rink, while a band played the national anthems of the participating nations: France, Belgium, Austria, Estonia, Latvia, Finland, Great Britain, Hungary, Italy, Poland, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, Czechoslovakia, Canada and the United States. Competition began the next day with the 500-meter speed skating event, won by the American Charlie Jewtraw. Finland and Norway dominated the Games overall, however, winning 28 of the 43 medals awarded. Leading performers included Clas Thunberg of Finland with five medals (three gold) in speed skating; Norway's Roald Larsen with another five speed-skating medals (two silvers and three bronzes); and Thorleif Haug of Norway, with three gold medals in cross-country and Nordic combined skiing. The U.S. and Great Britain won four medals each, and Canada won their only medal of the games--a gold--in the ice hockey competition, defeating the U.S. 6-1 in the final. In one of the most unexpected stories to come out of the first Winter Games, the Norwegian-born American ski jumper Anders Haugen, captain of the U.S. Olympic team, came in fourth, but was awarded the bronze medal a full 50 years later, when a mathematical error was discovered that would have put Haugen in third place. |
| Prompt 2by Lyndsay~1967408 Great Prizes! (87) Congratulations to those that moved on!Prompt 2 In high school my friend pointed out to me that humans can never create anything new; everything they create is a product of other created things. For example a unicorn is just a horse with a horn on it's head it isn't truly new, she argued. What do you think about this concept? Do you think she's right or wrong? How does this apply to you as a writer? (Remember that every story is just a different combination of 26 letters!) Your entries are due Midnight WDC time on January 25th. Prompt 2 Created Things, Original? What an interesting concept in reference to 'created things'. Of course, regarding all that is created as philosophers have often reminded us, 'there's nothing new under the sun' but not all things are "under the sun" and all things contain basic chemicals and humans have the same basic DNA. I must agree, there is nothing new, all things build on what was present before. The newborn baby could not be if there were no womb and the meeting of the sperm and the egg; true for all births except in earthworms and a few other things I don't know about. The leaf on a tree may be new for itself, but it could never exist without the seeds, roots, bark and whole of the first tree which came forth from a previous plant. The amazing part of creation through the billions of years is that each 'new' creation came forth from an earlier creation. Scientists are realizing even our universe may have come forth from a previous universe and it from a previous one, back to the Creator Himself/Herself/Itself/God who first brought the first germ of life. We humans have no reason to believe everything that was first created, including humans, just suddenly appeared whole. No, all creation has developed over time through chemistry with it's beginning by who or what we call God, the Creator of the Universe, "the God Particle". Literature is newly created through the mind of one writer every day humanity lives, and can scribble or use the many items available, even by putting an idea on the wall of a stone cave wall with a blackened stick from the fire or maybe before fire when a rock or stick carved an image on something else found in creation. We study literature as created in the mind of one person at a time and try to evaluate what he/she wrote and why they wrote it. In doing the evaluation, the review, we compare t to other writings by others of a different time, place, culture, technology. Every idea is something we humans of today have read in part, somewhere. Today we read the writngs of Aristotle which have been translated into many languages through the ages, and we understand what he wrote, while we ask how does it apply today or centuries ago. We read the Bible written over hundreds of years and find nothing new in Genesis or Revelation for the beginning and the end are 'married' into one creative story, each verse building on the previous verse. We read the poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson and the plays of William Shakespeare, and nothing is really different in their ideas, their thoughts, their well known lines, their opinions, even when we know which wrote an idea first, someone before him had the idea, the other has 'piggy-backed' on the same idea without knowing from whence the idea first appeared. The creativity in what we write is how we as writers bring our life experiences, our studies, what we've been told by family, what we've read about the earth, the world, humankind, and all that influences us in the moment a new 'original to us' idea comes forth. No, the created written words are not new, they are another way of looking at, explaining, learning, telling, showing, how we have taken in all that we have, churned it through our mind and experiences, then put it out there as 'original'. The originality is in how we add something of ourselves into what we write. It's that "something of ourselves'" that appears to make the message of our words seem original. We as writers search the depth of our souls, our experiences, and all that has brought us to one moment, then we put that into a single written item and call it 'original' when we know deep within, we're just being a part of the Creator, all Creation, all words that exist and all ideas that have passed through other human minds before our minds, eyes, ears, hands. Only the Creator, God, the "God Particle," that very first instant of creation, was original. All else is built on that, now and forever. Ann |
| DAY 432: JANUARY 24TH PROMPT Prompt: You are given the opportunity to write the script for a movie that will be produced by a top name producer. What is it about? Recently I began writing scripts for a play or it could be the screenplay for a movie. A local acting group who wants ten minute plays has encouraged me to do this with some of my lesbian romance stories so they can produce and present them to their audience. I enjoy American history very much and would choose to write the script about a story that reflects some aspect in American history. There are many stories about emigration westward which have been turned into movies. Problem is, the men are always in charge and the women's role is blaise, no drama, not important, just an afterthought. That needs to change so girls and women know their gender was just as important in the emigration by covered wagons to America's history. I would develop my latest in-process novel, Annie Oregon Goes West, into a final story that lends itself to telling how women did on the Oregon Trail and other trails westward. Did my grandmother just sit in the wagon beside her young husband watching him drive the team of horses behind the wagon ahead of him in the wagon train? Or, did she drive the mule team or horse team all the way from Louisiana to Oklahoma in 1920? Knowing her for thirty years of my life, I'm quite sure she did far more than just sit on the wagon bench and then sleep with her husband at night and get pregnant. I watched how hard she worked for thirty years and have no doubt she drove either the mule team or the horse team with Smoky and Charlie, both white hardy horses I rode as a child. I'm sure she handled the axe and cut wood for the evening campfires on which she cooked the meals for her husband and others on their family's wagon train. I'm sure she worked hard every day preparing for the trip and then unloading the wagons at the end of the trail. I would write a script telling my grandmother's story of working hard every step of the way, or it would be an Annie Oregon story as she was her own wagon train master with three other women on the trail with her. Women drove the mule team pulling the chuck wagon and its load, driving the horses pulling the loaded prairie schooner covered wagon . The women of those years could aim and shoot a gun to kill a grouse for dinner or a raging outlaw bent on hurting them. The women in my story of America goes Westward, would be strong, busy, wearing something better for the road than a simple cotton dress and they would not always have a husband around to get them pregnant on the trail some night in the tent.(By the way that's why they wore dresses too large for them on the trail) The women in my story would arrive west as stronger more confident women than those hardly seen in the action of all of Hollywood's movies about Americans going west. The women would take care of each other and not depend on a man to protect them and do the work making the wagon arrive successfully. The men would do their part but the movie I would write would show it's the women who got the families out west while the men rode along carrying their rifle, daydreaming. |
| First Prompt: What do you think about different blogging platforms? For example: your WDC blog vs. Tumblr. What are the pros and cons? What do you think about social media sites as a blogging platform (Facebook statuses could be considered mini blogs)? Tell us all about your blogging preferences and thoughts about the different ways to blog. I have no idea about 'blogging platforms' and no interest in knowing. I do not participate in social media except a visit to mine at facebook every three months to see if my older daughter has sent me a message. I do not participate in putting myself out there in never-never land giving information to nobody knows who. Never. Never. Never. There is only one place I post my writings, conduct blogging activities and share information with friends I'll never meet but have the same interest in writing that I have. That singular place is Writing.com. All of the internet interactions and blogs and social media are not making a positive contribution to the world but is creating non-anonymity in places that should remain anonymous, in lives of children and teenagers who lose their anonymity to criminals willing to get into their lives. Count me and mine out! Forever~ I enjoy blogging here on Writing.com where I am among friends who are kind, friendly, good and present themselves as friends whom I would like to know. Those moments I find someone who has cruel words or is a 'crybaby' or just gives me 'the higeebebees', I block and stop them from interferring in my life here at my blogging place, the wonderful Writing.com. And here I'll blog as long as my fingers work and I can exchange messages and thoughts and my writing. I have no interest in even visiting the internet's many places and leaving my email or online imprint. Anonymity is still something I desire except when I actually decide to be known. That's the kind of blogging I like. |
| January 23, 2014 Writing Prompt by Lyn (42) Prompt: What do you think is the most economical way to get work done? Do it yourself? Barter? Hire someone? If you've done a project recently could you give us some ideas to help us tackle our own future projects easier. {{b}font:verdana} Most economical: do it yourself if you have the knowledge, skills and physical health to do it. No money or bartering, just you doing it yourself. I have not yet lived in a community where bartering has become a way to get an electrician's help, a carpenter's help, a roofer's help, and those are the only kinds of work I need help with. Hiring a professional is the best way if you happen to not be an elderly person on very limited Social Security with an amount that might have been enough ninety years ago. You have to try to live on no more than $1200 for a month when the taxes and house payment is over $1,000. Luckily I do have an additional $500 in a retirement fund. In times and places like mine, if you can't fix it yourself and if you don't have a neighbor who can, it just doesn't get done. That means as right now, my heating system is wasting dollars each month because the attic and wall insulation is old and worthless, the cracks around the doors can't be closed by stuffing a rag into them, the tar on the roof is cracking and the roof is beginning to damage the underwood and one day a hole will crack in the roof during the rainy season. No, you can't fix such things and you have no money and as an elderly you have nothing to barter so your house loses value year after year until the day you'll die and the finance company finds it's become worthless and needs to be torn down and relplaced. So hiring someone or bartering or doing it yourself does not work. If you're young and healthy, have some money, have some but not all skill, you can get everything done around your home. If you can do that, count yourself lucky and don't grow old because after you're sixty-five, lots of doors slam in your face as you try to continue to be self-sufficient and those 'social programs' You and I helped to create to help the elderly just are no longer available. There's no value in our society to help those who need a little help even though they could always do all that was needed in their lives when younger. I am thankful for the young family down the street who have 'adopted' me as a grandma to their children and who help me when they can. The pile of wood delivered to me is out there blocking my driveway because I moved all the 'lighter' logs which I will eventually saw into fireplace-sized pieces; but the final eight heavy logs are waiting until the young family man can find the time to help me. He will, eventually; meanwhile I'll wait. I'm thankful to him for the many moments of help he has given. And I'm thankful to God that I can still do some things for myself but at 75 and growing older, this body is losing strength so will eventually not lift much. I don't want to live when I cannot do for myself. And I pray I can always write. Good luck as you do things for yourself, barter for help or hire someone. You're still among the fortunate people in our society. Maybe, some day, donate a bit of your personal time, your skills and knowledge to give a little bit of help to the elderly neighbor who won't ask but would deeply appreciate a few minutes and your help to do a simple project. It won't be much because he/she won't ask you to do any big task because she/he is afraidn you won't ever return. What will you give of yourself to such a neighbor this week? |
| january 21st, 2014 Writing PromptNational Hugging Day Prompt: When you are introduced to be people do you hug, shake hands, nod your head or just verbally acknowledge the other person?What's your style? Does it make a difference who the introduction is too? Great prompt. I do all the things, depending on who the person is, what the circumstance is, how I'm feeling, how the other person responds/leads, and who's around, where are we; it all depends. If it is a person like Lyn or Cindy or others here at WDC whom I have a warm heart toward, I'd have a hug to share, and maybe even add that second squeeze that says, you really are special as my friend. If it someone in my family who reaches for a big hug or a side hug, I'll share the hug and be thankful. If it's a family member, usually a man or a teenager, hugs don't work; you really do have to follow their lead. If it's a business associate, handshake always and I'll be the first to reach my hand. If its a coworker leaving the job and we've been supportive friends, it's a hug. If not close enough for that, follow the lead of the other person. If it's in a group introductions with more than one person, sometimes a handshake, usually a nod and verbally acknowledge each person by NAME, most important part of the introduction. When I was young in my teens and young adulthood, I never hugged except mother and grandmother. (one place in my life I believe the childhood sexual assault by a trusted family member, scared me away from hugging so many years and years." After fifty and my two years of counseling to free me from internal childhood fears, I doubled down on hugging those I love and those who are friends dear to my heart. I had learned the importance of touching the had of or hugging the elderly people I met; touch is extremely important to the elderly because there are so few people willing to hug them and they need a touch, a gently held hand, a hug, an arm around the shoulder. Yes, I'm asking my readers to determine to give these precious elders in your live your touch, your hug, your appreciation, your love; show it. I can imagine when the population of the world and towns lived far apart there were more handshakes and hugs. I wonder. ann |
| DAY 430 - JANUARY 22ND PROMPT Prompt: What do you think of horror movies? The best horror movies were just plain fun and just enough scary to make it fun. Those were the 1950's black and white thrillers which were most fun at the drive in movies where you could interact with friends during the movie. Laughing together and pretencing fear was a world of fun. Too many "thrillers' of today are too realistic and the use of amazing technology has made the seem very real. I don't find that kind of terror very wholesome and worthwhile for any life. If Hollywood and television never produced another horror movie, the world just might happen to be a better place. They wouldn't really be missed because the make no positive contribution to the world or the individual. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** for showing yourself,not being afraid to do it:You are inspirational.A.J. Lyle:Ann:honoring "OUT IN LOVE". You're helping to open the minds against gay's relationships,and supporting those struggling with their sexuality everyday.Keep up the amazing work!"Joy ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** image:1966552-50%} ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Prompt: What's your opinion of music nowadays? Not much has changed in my favorite music: The Grand Old Opry kind of music. I miss Anne Murray and the wonderful music she shared with us. I love Reba's music because she's so genuine and has never forgotten her roots, mine were also Oklahoma roots. Before electricity was available, our only source of professional music was the radio which used a very large and heavy battery which could not be recharged, so the radio usage was limited according to what Mom and Dad wanted to listen to except on Saturday nights our whole family gathered around the radio to listen to the Grand Old Opry. Yes, I was an Elvis fan and loved rock 'n roll music from the fifties until it was hard-rock, so ugly and loud, but I always loved Elvis' style and songs. Gospel music of the days of radio was also special. Mom always listened to The Statesman Quartet program of music so I heard and loved it too. My grandmother loved Kate Smith on the radio; so did I when I was at her house and she listened to the hymns and other songs by Kate Smith. Today Bill Gaither has brought together America's best gospel music groups and singers. I have many of his CD's and always enjoy gospel music as it reminds me of having church in the schoolhouse nearest to where we lived in rural Oklahoma. Like other things in my life, I like the simpler, from the past, music. Change happens so fast even in music, maybe I just like to remember when life was lived more slowly and we enjoyed basic, small things long before technology changed music and almost everything. ann |
| DAY 426 January 18th, 2014 Writing Prompt Tonight on the news another shooting incident at a Philadelphia School. Two students were hospitalized.Prompt: Why do you think children are taking guns to school? What is escalating this violence? What do you think as a society as a whole we can do to stop this? Will gun control really make a difference? This is a very controversial issue in our country. BECAUSE OF A GUN IN MY DRUNKEN FATHER'S HANDS IN 1953, I COULD HAVE DIED ALONG WITH FIVE FAMILY MEMBERS. That's not what he wanted to do but he almost did and he knew it; that's why that very same night after he sobered up enough, he took that gun to the river and threw it to the bottom of the muddy Was***a. If my grandfather had not owned a shotgun, he would not have held his wife and children, including my father, hostage with intent to kill whenever his head was too screwed up to know what he was doing. Eventually he used the gun on himself. If guns were not easily purchased or stolen, fewer students and families would die at the hand of a confused, mentally ill person of any age. If a father of lonely, depressed, mentally depressed or other mental illness boys, did not keep a gun and amunition in the home, easily available to his sons, school students would not be murdered followed by the suicide of the boy. If there were enforced laws about leaving any gun in home, garage, pickup, anywhere a boy with anger and hatred and mental confusion could find and use it, fewer students would die and fewer suicides of teenagers would occur. if there were stringent laws about buying guns, accounting for their safety even in homes and pickups, there would be fewer deaths with guns. All that I have said here, is an indication that America must have and enforce gun purchases and cared for or not, in homes. If the types of people I'm refering to could not get their hands on guns, there would be fewer deaths of innocent people, especially by the school shooters and other mass killers who simply want their own death by suicide but now want to 'go out in a blaze of their name across the nation' so they're never forgotten...all they really want is suicide. AS long as people making laws stupidly do what the gun lobby that sells guns want, guns will continue to be used in murderous ways....all for the sake of a few millionaires who want to get rich selling guns. Damn all of them to hellfire and damnation. ann |
| AY 425: JANUARY 17TH PROMPT Prompt: What would be the coolest city to visit? (In US) I don't have a strong opinion about American cities. Which is the worst? Which is the prettiest? Which is the ugliest? Which is majestic? Which is historical? I'm writing these question trying to get my muse to respond with an answer so I can write today's blog. As happened, the muse gave me no response until I asked, which is historical, then a word popped into my mind: Boston. I love history especially American history so I have to choose Boston as the coolest city to visit in America. During m school days I would have chosen Boston, long ago before 1960 and long before I came out publicly as a lesbian, I would have said Boston. Where else in the whole wide world was there a Tea Party? No other city in the world had a historical tea party. Now, is't it cool, by the 1950's jive speak, that there was a Tea Party? I think so. As a lesbian who kept the secret hidden deep in my heart, the "closet" people talk about, I'd have to happily choose Boston because it was there that people whose romantic hearts love a person of their same gender, could get married legally under the laws. That makes it a very special place. None of the towns which I've lived in have had historical significance or personal significance, but Boston has both. In my late years, I have lost my sense of north, south, east, and west, so it's very hard to find my way around towns at night because there's no direction and if I don't know the area, I can end up getting lost. Well, that's also one of the reason I'd not try to drive in Boston because as I understand it, their streets are laid out like around a hub. Just think how lost I'b there driving and driving trying to find where to turn; I guess I'l drive while hearing the song, "she'll never return and her fate is still and I'd drive forever the streets of Boston and could never return home. I'd still say Boston's the coolest city to visit in the U.S. ann Thanks, |
| DAY 424 January 16, 2014 Writing Prompt National Do Nothing Day- Someone read my mind Prompt: If you had the opportunity to create your own day, what would it be? Would you have any special perks to make your day unusual or memorable? I create my own day everyday. The only changes I would make would be in my day if I had a few dollars to spend 'just to make me happy' with a better day. It's not easy, living on limited income when there's not enough to drive a nice car instead of my 1987 Ford Ranger pickup that looks and drives 'old.' Nevertheless, it's a good life with my sweet Molly, my WDC friends, my pets and my writing. I stay happy. My day of my own making would include driving to Idaho to see my daughter and my three grandchildren and their eight children. I have never seen my great grandchildren and the only reason is lack of money while I'm on Social Security where I get an annual increase of about $27 over the next twelve months. Compare that with inflation! My day would be another day of good health, no joint pain or seizures, and I would spend a lot of time sitting on the floor with my great grandbabies, playing their games with them. None of them are school yet so it would be fun reading their books to them, rolling a ball and even flying a kite if the outdoor wind was just right. Also, I'd love to ride around or sit in a porch swing talking to my three adult grandchildren about their jobs, their day to day lives, their hopes and dreams. There's so much news I'd like to learn from my daughter. It doesn't take much of anything but a few dollars now unavailable to give me the perfect day: time to get to know my daughter now that she's past the age of fifty and to know her children as successful adults and to become acquainted with their 'little ones'. That day would give me awareness of the future of my family. I do miss them. At the same time I'm very grateful to live just two hours away from my youngest daughter and her nine year old little girl whom I get to see a few times each year. ann |
| DAY 423: JANUARY 15TH PROMPT Prompt: What was the last good book you read? A Zane Grey novel, printed during World War II second printing using government approved paper, etc. when everything went to "the war effort" in Europ and the Pacific. It's one of several I own. As a young teenager I read every Zane Grey I could get my hands on; that was long before Louie lamour was born and I've enjoyed his books also. The book, published first in1914 was published again in 1942, the photo on the cover reflects printing possibilities in 1942, A special not on the complete paper cover says: "'complete and unabridged from the first page to the last exactly as the author wrote it and as orginally published at a higher price. The low price is made possible by printing from the original plates and by the author's acceptance of a reduced royalty." Thank you, Mr. Zane Grey in 1942 that and for all your writings. You were living when I was reading your books and that's exciting to me now; I never knew it so long ago. today's writers will be interested to know, i believe, that the inside cover flap is all about the previous book, written to entice the reader to also buy Thunder Mountain by the author as "a thrilling story of robbery, treachery, murder, the search for gold, and a man's love for a woan, told in Zane Grey's most stirring manner. Just imagine how many hundred changes any of today's Publishers and Editors would change to fit their intention. To do that would be to erase Zane Grey out of the book other than his name only. That's WHY I do NOT believe in editors making us writers make change after change on every page until the story or book is no longer ours. The publisher's books of a genre soon all sound alike, no individuality in the author's voice, style, tone, characterization, plot, etc. This book, The Light of Western Stars" may be the only Zane Grey with a woman as the primary character. Her brother is a distant secondary character. Following are the cowboys, vaqueros, horses, cattle, and the ranch itself. A rich eastern young woman who has lots and lots of money leaves high society to go out west to Arizona to her long-lost brother's ranch where she then uses her money, gives it a new name, changes everything until the 500 acres are prefection like Neverland, nothing like it on earth either then or now. She dislikes then eventually falls in love with the lonely cowboy and all of Zane Grey's magic is on every page. No other author could describe the West, America's West, like Zane Grey. Not even L lamour, nobody. Just ask me and I'll tell you. ann. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** for showing yourself,not being afraid to do it:You are inspirational.A.J. Lyle:Ann:honoring "OUT IN LOVE". You're helping to open the minds against gay's relationships,and supporting those struggling with their sexuality everyday.Keep up the amazing work!"Joy ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** image:1966552-50%} ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** 803351 |
| ay 422 January 14th, 2014 "All children have to be deceived if they are to grow up without trauma. Kuzuo Ishiguro Prompt: Do you agree or disagree? What are some popular deceptions that should be told to children? Do you believe it is more traumatic being deceived as a child or more traumatic dealing with the harsh realities of the world at a very young age? AlI know and experienced that most traumatic moment suffered by children. Children are too trusting. They need be told by parents and their doctor about the most horrible people whom they may meet. For some of those children, that most horrible person is a father, uncle, neighbor, older brother or stranger. That I why I say that doctors should tell children about such people to teach them how to know if such a person they meet may be one of those horrible sexual child abusers. Nobody ever prepares a child to tell when a father attempts or completes or repeats sexual abuse to the child. The child needs to know early in life not to trust strangers or fathers who touch them 'in the are covered by their swim suit and the child must know who to tell and how to tell it. it is always better to find a way to prevent the destruction of a child instead of just letting them be harshly terrible treated then not knowing who or how to tell. I know from experience of what happened to me all year long just before my monthly period started. That is the year little girls are most vulnerable to the horrors of sexual assault, rape and other abuse. For the boys the age of such horror is similarly predictable. Children by the age of seven should be learning what to do if touched wrongly or kissed in an adult way. Tell them. |
| Prompt: What’s your learning style? Do you prefer learning in a group and in an interactive setting? Or one-on-one? Do you retain information best through lectures, or visuals, or simply by reading books? Learning style? Depends on the era, the subject, the possible group, the purpose. If it was the 1950's elementary and in high school group and interactive settings were unknown. We sat in rows at desks attached to the floor exactly a certain distance between the seat and the desk with the next person leaning at the edge of our desk and we were leaning directly against another desk. The only talking in class were whispers to someone nearby or answering the teacher's questions. The rest of learning was reading and writing. All discussions were directed by the instructor and I loved to be called on to answer any question. (At my 60th class reunion, I was given a great compliment by a popular student who said: "Ann you were the smartest in our class, all 425 of us! You always had the answers.'I loved hearing that because I had absolutely no idea anyone thought such about me.) I found college was the same except the desks were not bolted to the floor. Listening to the instructor, reading and writing assignments along with answering questions in class when the teacher ask a direct question to a certain student. I always knew all the answers so was called on often all through school including college  . Since that was how I learned those years and graduated from college at 3.7 gpa, I guess I learn without groups. On the other hand, I love working in groups at conferences, workshops, at my job, anytime. I always learn many new things and am more apt to remember them when I have learned in groups and conversations. If I see it written down or in a picture or graph or on a screen or in person, I do remember anything far better than just reading now at my age. Age makes a big difference in how we learn; I know that from experience. When i write a story I 'see' the visual picture of whatever is in the story at any given moment. I then write what I see...so in writing it's the visual from which I learn because it is how I see my story before the words are written across my brain then on the page: that's when I say "the story writes itself" because the visual and the words of my characters I see in my mind determine the story and dialog withing the story. It just flows as I 'see' it. ANN |
| DAY 419 January 11th, 2014 Writing Prompt National Step in a Puddle and Splash Your Friend Day *Vamp* Prompt: Would you or better yet have you done that to a friend in fun? }What other silly things have you and a friend shared looking back on? If you could write this friend an anonymous letter would they know by the situation that is was from you without you signing the letter? Dear Anne: It's been sixty-four since I've seen you. I saw your parents a couple of times, but now I don't see any of you family when I go to Oklahoma. How's Texas and being a doctor's wife? I'm sure you've had a good life. I have. Now I'm a writer, an author even, and have documented some of our life events back in the 1940's in my newest book, A Life Renewed. Who can forget that Halloween when our fathers' trick turned on them. I still write about it and my readers get a good laugh. Too bad those wild and free days of the past are gone. I wonder if anyone goes trick or treating like we did that night. If you look in my portfolio here at Writing.com, you'll find the following and I'm sure you and your family will laugh once again about that night and many other things all of us did in our younger days. I was sure my brother, Larry, and you would have been married, also my sister, Linda, and your brother too, if our family hadn't moved away. I still wonder what the four of you did in secret those many days when all nine of us were playing 'Hide and Seek" and the four of you disappeared, lost and having secrets. Of course, I still believe some 'hanky panky' was happening. You can laugh because your secret is still a secret. Both Larry and Linda have died far too young, so they're still not telling. Here's my account of that Halloween: LIGHTNING STRIKES AT HALLOWEEN Halloween in rural Oklahoma was usually a time for tricks more than for trick-or-treating. It was far different in the 1940's than is in the 21st century. Then, costumed children who lived in rural America, could not walk in the dark from house to house with their plastic pumpkins and paper bags. Houses were far from each other and usually located on the hills instead of the downhill hollows between them. Often, fathers would drive the children to certain neighbors' homes to trick or treat. It was exciting every year when my father did that. As kids then, we weren't old to figure out tricks to play on the neighbors. Only the older kids and young adults would talk about their tricks on the neighbors during the days following Halloween night. The primary event in our rural area was held at the schoolhouse on the hill just beyond us. All of the kids would arrive in costume and the adults were judges of the best costumes. The first activity was for all the kids in costume to line up in front of the crowd. Most people knew all the kids first through eighth grades. Parents helped keep it a secret which kids were theirs. The people in the crowd had to name the child behind the costume. My little brother won that contest one year by dressing like a girl. After the school event, out family went to visit with a family with kids who were our best friends. I was in sixth grade that year when old Uncle Lightning was tricked and so were others. While we were visiting with the kids, Mother and Daddy visited with Doug and Ruby Whatley at their house on a hill not far from Paoli, Oklahoma. The adults played cards, a game called Pitch, while the five Whatley kids and four of us played outside in the moonlight or just sat and ate the Halloween treats that we had gotten at the celebration at the school. Late into the evening, Daddy and Doug ask us if we wanted to trick-or-treat old Uncle Lightning, a single old alcoholic, who lived down in the hollow across a small creek. Uncle Lightning was not a relative to either family. Of course, every kid was excited about Doug and Daddy's suggestion. Daddy told us that he would stay at the Whatley house and let Doug drive us down to Lightning's home. All of us piled into the back of Doug's old pickup and he drove slowly instead of his usual thirty-five miles per hour. We were laughing and talking about the adventure and wondering if Uncle Lightning would even be home. It was a dark night; the moon was a true Halloween moon and we couldn't see anything beyond the headlights. In our excitement, we had not wondered why Daddy hadn't come with us. What we did not know was that, while Doug drove slowly, Daddy took Doug's shotgun and walked through the pasture, down the hill, across the small creek and got to Uncle Lightning's house before we did. Uncle Lightning lived alone in a tiny little house by the creek in a pasture. He had gotten his name because of the liquor he used to make during Prohibition days of the 1920's. His liquor was called "white lightning" so he was named Lightning. Daddy and Doug had intended for Lightning to be at home and could easily be awakened when Daddy knocked on the door. They intended to enlist him to play a trick on us kids. That's not what happened. When Daddy arrived there, he knocked several time. Lightning didn't answer the door. Daddy assumed he was in town at the little bar celebrating Halloween so he stood behind the house to wait for us to knock on the door with the gun loaded and ready to shoot.. He planned to shoot the gun at just the right moment to give us the scare of our life that Halloween. When Doug parked the pickup. All of us, ages six to thirteen, climbed out of the pick-up and crawled under the barbed wire fence strung along the property to keep the cows in. The oldest kids raced to Lightning's door. Like kids still do every Halloween, we knocked on the door. There was no answer. Then, to scare us, Daddy shot the gun. A place like that below a hill, along a small creek, was called a "hollow". When that gun went off, it echoed through the hollow and sounded extremely loud. We cried out and started yelling, "It's just us Uncle Lightning." And, we were running back toward the fence, scared to death that Uncle Lightning might shoot that awful gun again. Suddenly, the trick turned Daddy and Doug. Lightning was at home and in his loudest voice yelled and cussed in his drunken voice, "Who the hell is out there?" As soon as he yelled, Daddy ran toward the fence with us. He knew that Lightning could easily grab his own gun and shoot into the dark at all the people yelling and running. Climbing under that fence was no small task. Being in a hurry, I tore my jeans and am sure some of the other kids did too. My brother scratched his hand on the barbed wire. We had either crawl on the ground under the first fence line, or carefully but quickly climb between the first and second line of wire; or, do like Daddy. He was running so fast that he put one foot on a lower line, then threw the other leg over the top. He was as scared as we were. I still think he ran the fastest. I don't think a herd of kids and their Daddy ever ran faster than we did that night. Later on, when Lightning was sober, Daddy and Doug told them about the trick. Lightning laughed the hardest, Daddy has said, because he scared those two grown men that night. Well, Anne, that's the story people are laughing about on my portfolio here at writing.com as best4writing. Before I close this letter, Anne, I have one other thing to tell you: I came out as a lesbian when I was sixty years of age, fifteen years ago. I'm telling you something special to my heart: Anne, we met in third grade as good friends, you were my best friend then in fifth grade, you became Larry's girlfriend. Lucky him. You see, my dear friend, YOU were my very first "girl crush"...Yes I loved you then and I still do. A "girl crush" for a lesbian heart is never forgotten whether or not the romantic feelings of the heart are ever known. So, Anne, I loved you romantically long ago and have never forgotten you. Your friend, Ann Gross Patterson Okie once, Annie of Oregon now. |
| What bad habit did you give in to today? Who has 'bad habits? I don't? Why would I be so influenced by anything bad? No, no, no, I just ain't got no bad habit!! God wouldn't allow it! My doggies'd chew me to pieces if I had a bad habit! Oh, no, they're chewing my toes...they're saying I have a really bad habit! I don't want to tell the truth! Do I have to? Please no, I don't like to admit it! Okay, the truth must be spoken, with all the shame it brings*Sad* In the 1950's, us 'good girls' had a saying: "We don't smoke. We don't chew. And we don't go out with the boys that do!! Well, I succombed. When i decided to come out as lesbian, I drove to Portland, Oregon, and went to a gay bar. At first I just drink my tea or cherry coke and loved being in a place where I felt free to say four little special powerful words: "I am a lesbian." Being sixty years of age, I had hidden those words in my soul from the time I was sixteen and didn'tknow the words but I did know my heart was drawn in a special way to certain wonderful girls in my class but they never knew that. Well, anybody going to bars before the 'no smoking in bars laws' knows smoking was a way to feel busy when you didn't know what else to say or when everyone else at your table was smoking. So I bought a pack of cancer sticks and 'fit in' with the smokers as I drank only cherry coke and it was nice sitting beside the delighful, humorous, professional, cute, shorter than me lovely lady named Molly. We fell in love and it wasn't because of smoking. Then I hit 70 and found Writing.com where I began to 'sit together with friends around the world who love to write and read and share. I could not picture any of them with a cigarette in hand, so I quit smoking. Then my 'muse' became undependable for a while so I decided to 'kick start' her by smoking. Molly has quit smoking and alcohol; so I must quit smoking when she's not here but visiting her ninety year old mother miles away. My little doggies, the black cat and the rabbit have voted that i must quit. Add their votes to my doctor's yesterday and I must quit. I'll try. ann ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** for showing yourself,not being afraid to do it:You are inspirational.A.J. Lyle:Ann:honoring "OUT IN LOVE". You're helping to open the minds against gay's relationships,and supporting those struggling with their sexuality everyday.Keep up the amazing work!"Joy ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** image:1966552-50%} ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| AY 418: JANUARY 10TH PROMPT Prompt: Is there anything you are a total nerd for? A TV show, a card game, a video game? You know a ton about it and love to watch/play it. If you do, tell us about it. If not, tell us why. I have all the time in the world to participate in any television show, games, and anything 'nerdy' or otherwise. It's a freedom that only comes when retired, no family to care for, no requirements or things required...............just spend my time doing what I choose....I am a total nerd for Writing.Com and spend all my waking days writing and interacting with writing friends around the world. I never feel alone because a WDC friend has sent me an email and her/his kind words let me know someone in the world is glad I'm alive and here and writing and sharing my life one day at a time. Is there anything more "nerdy" than Writing? When I'm writing 80% of my day either my own stories or notes and reviews to friends here. Reading can be 'nerdy' even though young people do less of it than I did when there were no computers and online games in my youth. Those who didn't read would, if they were in town, go to the nearest location where there was a pinball machine; though mechanical not techy, those machines were the addiction of young men back then. I wonder if youth of today so involved in online games and the adults in online gaming, will find success in life in hobbies, employment, social and financial ways? Where and how will they spend their retirement years if they live that long after dependence on drugs or alcohol or just sittin' around waiting for someone to somehow take care of them? I don't knock online games for I have an amazing son who spent 26 years in the USAir Force and still contracts with USAF, and he has his certain online games that require even more than Dongeons and Dragons did in his high school days when he was a straight A student. He's always chosen challenging games requiring intelligence, even brilliance, to learn and enjoy. One of his online buddies was killed at the American Embassy in BenGaziah so he has friends with his games today, is wellbalanced, no substance addictions, just a wonderful All American Man. Let the 'nerds' keep giving us technology and games; just let them feed the imagination and brains of our youth with positive learning and planning. Meanwhile, this 75er will enjoy writing every day and interacting with other 'nerdy' friends on Writing.Com. Ann |
| DAY 416: JANUARY 9TH PROMPT Prompt: "Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." Is this true?Thanks How sad it must be for individuals, rugged or not, to live their adult life with no loving of or by anyone. Maybe, they were loved by father, mother, grandmother, grandfather, siblings, and others who knew them before they turned 21. Maybe a teacher loved their delightful way or because they were so sad. I do hope they were loved during their growing up years. But not to find love, either giving or receiving it, as an adult must be like living in a desert for years and years. Have some of those people been the ones who decided to live in the mountains in a wilderness with only animals to know along with the storekeeper where they hurriedly purchased the goods they needed to purchase. Whether they and the storekeeper were heterosexual or homosexual, couldn't they have built a relationship of trust, respect and even a speck of love? I wonder. Every person who loved a mate with all their heart and received the same unconditional love shares the same knowledge: one of the two will die first, one of the two could get brain damage or Alziemiers and not be able to communicate love, or one of the two people may 'fall out of love and leave' or get a divorce. Even knowing that, I have to believe the one who 'loved and lost' would hold joy in their heart and life that they had once loved and been loved. Death and divorce do not mean all love is gone even in a divorce, one party usually feels a great loss even if they fight against the divorce. Later in their life even if they never love nor are loved again, surely they are grateful for the days of loving and being loved. I am grateful I've had an open heart to accept love and to choose to give love to another person. Not all the girls I loved during my school days before I understood I was a lesbian, had any idea just how much love has stayed in my heart even sixty years later. Yes, I still love my eighth grade "girl crush" and I cherish every moment I get to be with her at our Class Reunions; last class reunion, I spent time in her home both before the reunion and the day following. I love her still and even as I've told her "you were my first 'girl crush' and she's responded with a smile and friendship response, she still is my first love. My tenth grade 'girl crush' became my sister in law for some wonderful years...lucky lesbian who didn't even know then I was a lesbian....and years after she divorced my brother, when I went into her little bar in Reno and she knew it was me, she showed her love by literally crawling fast over the bar to give me a big wonderful hug; that's love still going on. When she died too young, I spoke at her memorial service and spoke of my love for her as my friend, my sister in law, the mother of my beloved nieces and nephews. I still love her. My crush on Barbara when I was in high school still is in my heart...I saw her sixty years later and we had a wonderful visit; I still love her but she doesn't know, or does she? I think she sensed my love but couldn't dare deal with it since she wasn't 'out'. I wonder as I still love her. My girl crush when I was a senior in college was a wonderful woman, loved by many and I could tell of two who I know loved her as a 'girl crush' but being close to her and not 'out' they couldn't tell her either. I visited her one day when my mother and I drove through her town, great visit among friends. I still love her. And I dearly loved and was/still am in love with a best friend of over thirty years; she's not 'out' but our love was and is real. And my greatest love has been wonderful and returned her love to me for almost fifteen years. Molly and I will be together until 'death does part us' and our love will last always, beyond death, I truly believe. I believe that when we die, we take the love we have and have received with us to the other side of this physical life. Yes, I know it was a message from the movie "Ghost" but I believed it before that, still do. Yes, it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Thank You, God, for Your Love and for letting us love and be loved in our few days on this earth. Amen. Ann |
| Wednesday January 8, 2014 Prompt: Is patience an attribute that you can acquire with practice or is it an innate ability in some people? I've lived for 75 years and I believe patience is an innate attribute for people. Those calm folks with the gift just show patience naturally. The rest of of us who want to be patient are like the simple prayer, "Dear God, please give me patience and do it right now." We have to learn to grit our teeth and smile while remaining calm on the outside even if we're exploding on the inside. Yes, we can have patience if we're motivated to be patient, calm, open for the ideas and emotions of others and that 'ain't' easy to do. I've always been quick to think, to decide, to do. Too often, I've become exasperated with other people who don't move or speak or do things as quickly as I prefer. That impatience is not welcomed by others. I have worked to show patience, especially with children and the elderly. Now that some call me their 'elder' I wonder if i exasperate any impatient folks. I'm sure I do. I think our elders are more patient in their responses to other people and that is because they have worked at acquiring the patience. Blessed are those individuals of every age who have the gift, just naturally stay calm and wait for the rest of us to do whatever is expected or say what is expected. They smile, pat us on the back and we're proud. I'm more patient with grandchildren than I was as a young mother in her twenties with too many things going on. In our twenties, we are hurrying to succeed in our job, trying to be the perfect spouse, dealing withour parents' expectations, trying to reach goals we thought might come easy after graduatin from high school or college or a wedding. We do have to work at being patient in all things; that is, unless we have that natural gift of patience. I think the 5th chapter of Matthews in the Bible needs another verse, another 'Beatitude": "Blessed are those who are patient, for theirs is a happier life among people of all ages for all their years." Notice the word "BE ATITUDE". 'nough said.  |
| DAY 415 January 7th, 2014 Writing Prompt Poet Carl Sandburg was born on this day in 1878;Prompt : Tell us what kind of poetry appeals to you? Why? Which poet is your favorite?If you do not enjoy reading poetry why? I love reading poetry. There're some wonderful poets here at WDC. I have an original near 1900 ediion of "One Hundred and One Famous Poems" and have give the book often as gifts. Everytime I read the poems, it makes me happy. My little girl, now forty, and I would read from the book together. She loved to read them. We had fun with "The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat" who "ate each other up, they say." She read them to me then and now she and her seven year old daughter read them together. Precious Memories. Alfred Lord Tennyson was/is my all time favorite poet. Ii loved his "Into the valley of death rode the six hundred...." and others that were/are enjoyable to read. Poetry has a subtle, succinct way of telling a story, declaring a message, touching the heart, and even bring laughter to the poet and to the reader. How often are the lines from a poem placed on gravestones because so few words express so very much. I probably wrote poems as a child as my daughter did and granddaughter does. The way of a poet is a special way to live; sees poetry in everything and has joy in that. I wrote a poem one day while my eighth grade students were taking a test. One bright student said, "Mrs. Patterson, give us an equal chance, give us the answers." The poem I wrote using his lines was published that year, 1965 and I was paid $5.20; still have the receipt for the money. Of course, I was too busy to write often but I did write a few poems through the years; now I write a poem every day, often to a prompt or to a television documentary story about a historical event. Today I wrote "The Polar Bear" the story now in process as the icebreaker ship, The Polar Bear, travels to Anarctica to resuce the Russian ship, the Russian icebreaker, the Chinese icebreaker AND the Australian ice breaker. It seems The Polar Bear is the only one able to break up the deep ice and help those stranded on the other ships and icebreaker people awaiting America's Polar Bear. It makes a good poem about American ingenuity. The Psalms in the Bible are a wonderful read as poetry. Love poetry? You bet I do. ann |
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