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 |   A terminal for all blogs coming in or going out. A view into my life. |
Started July 1st 2019 for contests, etc. as other blogs are filling up and have other purposes.  I'm starting a new blog because
I'll be linking to
I've started an appendix (I no longer have one personally) to keep track of my Space Cadet journals for Space Blog. It's a work constantly under construction. Mind the mess.
I needed to start a folder for contests as there are so many deadlines and details to remember.
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222 entries and 2222 views ... had to post early before the numbers changed! By the way ... my favorite number is 2. Ridvan Saw viginia bluebells starting to bloom on Wednesday. They should be in good form this weekend as the weather continues to be mild. They bloom pink turning blue. 30DBC: Describe the best place to hide in your home (closet, bed - under it or the covers, basement, attic, behind the couch, in a cupboard, etc.), and why it is the best? I think of places I forget about or places within places almost forgotten. So: growing up ... probably in the attic behind where the stairs came up. No one would have thought of looking for me there. I would sit in the closet to "hide" so that would be too obvious. In college there never was anywhere to hide. Once house where I rented: at the base of the back stairs where my cat had her kittens. Way out of the way. My house? Maybe a small nook under the front stairs. I don't think those who stayed with me even knew it was there. My big house? Too many rooms! No one knew all of them! Here: maybe in the one closet that's partially blocked by the bed or under the desk, also partially blocked by the bed. Well ... that was amusing. I jump out of my skin if I hear noises at night. Two times I've been traumatized while in bed at night. It may explain why I sleep best when I travel or a home in the morning and not the night. I'll write a flash fiction for sure. I really like the prompts: plum, window, lace. I owe Anna Maria a poem about plum blossoms and "ume" is a theme I have thought of many times over my life (the plum bravely blooms at the end of winter before the other more 'cowardly' flowers peek out). I've been wanting to write fantasy flash and this might work somehow. I do better with weaving images from three words than with a line of dialog. Odd note: numbers seem to repeat for me today. I have 858,558 gps. Other than that ... later ...  |
R IDVANI wasn't sure what day it was. My mind slowly slips. I'm making strange typos. I can't remember certain things. Oh, it could just be aging. Old Timer's Disease. Four head injuries don't help. Seen on space book: "Someone once said when u love someone with dementia u lose them twice, (once when they are diagnosed & again, when they die). This is called “Ambiguous Loss.” ‘Rapidly shrinking brain’ is how doctors described it. Dementia is tragic. It's a nasty thief. As the patient's brain slowly deteriorates, they change in every way, & eventually forgetting who their loved ones are. Patients may become bedridden, unable to move, speak, eat or drink." I'm supposed to write about a package today. Time to go to the post office to see whether I've received any. Nope. Just bank statements. Tulips in bloom. Poem: "April 24: a package or a delivery [49]"  Just realized I forgot to post a poem I wrote a couple days ago. Done. And so the mighty fall (U of Kansas, years ago):  |
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