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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. |
Prompt: Write a review of your life — or the life of someone close to you — as if it were a movie or a book. I think a review is a summary with a 'bite'. Her life was lived hypocritically. Her Christian faith seemed to lead her way through faithfulness to church attendance and reading her Bible. At the same time, she could be vehemently critical of individuals she just didn't like. She loved her oldest son above all others, blind of his faults which included a lifetime of alcohol, beating his wife, ignoring even her. Her other children, she appeared to love, but turned against them for little things, even how they might comb their hair. Her husband, she hated most of the time and berated his love of alcohol. She loved her grandchildren until she found something they did as teenager or adult that she did not approve of. It's sad to review her life and realize the hypocrisy she lived while carrying her Bible and attending church, the two things she believed defined herself. note: not my life but someone about whom I wish I could write nothing put praise and profound love; not reality that I know/knew was true. ANN My response to someone who hoped I had not written about me as my review: no, my friend; it was not about my life; it sadly is my review of my dear mother's life....I'm sorry for its truth. I've not written very much about her as I have my father, because except for his alcohol meanness, he loved me and was proud of me and he loved people; I never heard him criticize any single person. I am stilll trying to cope with my mother's life, to find the threads of goodness, but she never loved my sister until ten years before my siister died; at that time she became more and more criticall of me and my life, hated me acknowledging being a lesbian, died while angry at me and my younger brother because she would not belieive us when we told her her daughter in law, my older brother's wife, was the thief (as proven to alll the family after she died and I demanded she give up mom's pictures she had stolen). I remember my middle years of living when I feared my mother would die too young; then when she died at 88, yes it was sad for me; yet, I am still trying to find her virtures...so very hard for me to find and it makes me very very sad. No, it's not about me; I have no shame about my life, how I've lived, who I am and have always been. But my mother's critical, judgemental ways and words are still so hurtfull to me and many other people; I hate that I am not overwhelmed with wonderful memories and great admiration for her ways of being. I so want to get beyond what i know is the truth and somehow I wish I could be in that middle of life attitude when I never saw her as she really was. Forgive me for not shouting her praises; every child should only remember her/his mother as an angel full of love and admired in every way. I'm hurting as I write this for I've written what I know is/was true. ANN |
| : How short would your life have to be before you would have to start living differently today? I don't think I understand the question, but I'll say, If I could live it over, I would not do what I did on June 18, fifty-three years ago. At this hour, I was at the altar saying "I do" to a man I said "I don't" to sixteen years later. What I would not change about my decision that day, is the children of our marriage. My life is blessed daily as I see, feel and know them and their love. Precious grandchildren, and now great grandchildren grace their lives and mine. "Lliving differently": I would not change who I am nor how I live. I'm satisfied that I've lived in the best way among all people who have touched my life and those whom I've touched. I would change nothing. I know I have made the best decisions possible along life's path. Fortunately, I was never drawn into alcohol or drug addiction and know what a blessing that is. I don't regret any decision except for the one I put off from age twenty-two when I was teaching "Creative Writing" but did not start writing until age sixty-nine. If only I had put pen to paper earlier, my life would be different in a writer's way now. ann |
| Write an A-Z poem. It has 26 lines first line starts with A next with B then C you get the idea. Doesn't have to rhyme, no syllable count or anything. Have Fun and Happy Blogging! BETWEEN TWO WARS After the truce was signed Britains and others celebrated, Caring about each other, Daring to trust again, Entering a new age, Facing the deaths and loss, Giving a helping hand, Hoping no other war would come In the lives of those they loved. Just as they felt safe, Killings began again Like never before; Most Jewish people captured Not allowed to live. Over Europe, all Jews Put in walled-up towns Quickly before other nations knew. Reich armies marched in step, Scaring those who hated Hitler, Taking prisoners to trains. U-boats in the ocean Validated the Third Reich. When many nations fell X's marked on graves; You couldn't escape Hitler. Zionists all died. |
| {c:maroon Write an A-Z poem.It has 26 lines first line starts with A next with B then C you get the idea. Doesn't have to rhyme, no syllable count or anything.Have Fun and Happy Blogging! BETWEEN TWO WARS After the truce was signed Britains and others celebrated, Caring about each other, Daring to trust again, Entering a new age, Facing the deaths and loss, Giving a helping hand, Hoping no other war would come In the lives of those they loved. Just as they felt safe, Killings began again Like never before; Most Jewish people captured Not allowed to live. Over Europe, all Jews Put in walled-up towns Quickly before other nations knew. Reich armies marched in step, Scaring those who hated Hitler, Taking prisoners to trains. U-boats in the ocean Validated the Third Reich. When many nations fell X's marked on graves; You couldn't escape Hitler. Zionists all died COMING OUT .........."WHO I WAS BORN TO BE" sung by Susan Boyle Today, I listened to Susan Boyle sing a song written especially for her. Her beautiful voice gave the song great meaning, for her I know, but also for me. It's title "Who I Was Born To Be", and every word fit me so closely as I was the year I decided to step out of the silent life I had been living, said "I am a lesbian; my romantic heart is drawn to women." "Coming Out"...to be who I was born to be happened when I was sixty years of age. I had wanted to come out as a lesbian from the age of sixteen, but that was in 1954; not a good time to announce to anyone that the romantic heart given to me by my Creator, God, was drawn to women, my own gender. But I did know then, at the age of sixteen. I knew my heart would care deeply, lovingly, certain girl friends. From my heart, it was love as real as the love my brother had to his girlfriend, or my sister had for her boyfriend. My brother married the girl he was dating at that time; actually, I loved her first. She was my best friend before he dated her. After she was my sister-in-law, she and I had great times together as friends and sisters. Even though they got a divorce, my heart still loved her. At her early death when we both were sixty-two, I spoke at her memorial service. Of course, I couldn't say how deeply I had loved her all those years, but my heart knew. Her children have been grateful to hear me speak of their mother in my loving way. As Susan Boyle sang the words of her song, I felt every word in my heart. I have been saying for fifteen years, "I'm a lesbian. I came out publicly to speak and live "who I was born to be" with the heart God placed in this body. To speak my declaration, "I am a lesbian" is to speak the words of her song. Since that first day I decided to no longer deny who I am, my heart has been filled with joy. The cry of my heart all of my life, as written on paper more than once, has been, "I just want to be me!" Here are the words to that beautiful song that has touched my heart, and I would say has touched the heart of every person who knows who they really are, as their cry to be free to say "I am who I was born to be" without reservation. For too many, fear keeps them holding the secret inside because they know they could be assaulted, murdered, disowned by parents and family, excommunicated by their Christian or Catholic church, fired from their job, or other critical injury. It makes me sad to know they stay imprisoned in their hearts because of fear of the bigotry. It is so destructive to too many people who feel they cannot say, "I am who I was born to be. I am me, a gay person with the homosexual heart given to me by my Creator, God, while in my mother's womb." Here are the words to Susan Boyle's beautiful song. I hope you will go to buy her record so you can hear her beautiful voice as she sings: Susan Boyle's Who I Was Born To Be" When I was a child I could see the wind in the trees and I heard a song in the breeze it was there, singing out my name But I am not a girl I have known the taste of defeat and I have finally grown to believe it will all came around again [Chorus:] And though I may not know the answers I can finally say I am free And if the questions led me here,then I am who I was born to be And so here am I Open arms and ready to stand I've got the world in my hands And it feels like my turn to fly [Chorus] When I was a child there were flowers that bloomed in the night Unafraid to take in the light Unashamed to have braved the dark [Chorus] I am who I was born to be I am who I was born to be. |
| Prompt: What historical time period would you live in that you have not previously lived in? Because of all the wars, plagues and other turmoil, there is no other time period when I would like to live in than right now. As bad as things are in the world, they are better now than any other time. Now, there are civil rights in America for everyone except homosexuals. I believe, within the coming decade, we will have the right to keep a job without being fired for being gay, to be married with all legal rights now granted to heterosexuals, more safety for children and youth who already know they are gay or trans-sexual, more opportunities for young gay couples to adopt children, more nations will approve of rights for gay men and lesbians; and even the opportunity to run as a successful candidate for President, so I cannot choose the previous historical periods when anyone who seemed different than the "normal" was ostracized or killed according to the laws of the group. ann |
| PROMPT: "I wish I could .... "(please fill in the rest) A reasonable wish: I wish I could become a published noted author, before my years are ended, and leave a legacy and estate that my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren would be proud of for generations. A wish beyond my reality: I wish I could be an angel for a day with the power to make certain things vanish from the earth. If that wish came true, many things would happen to make life better and happier for all the children of the world, now and forever. The first thing I would do: I'd wave my arm or smile or whatever turned the magical power on, and child abuse would end immediately. All the adults or even teens who have ugly desires toward children, sexually rape and assault children, beat or hurt children, would vanish and precious children would be cared for in a loving environment with caring, compassionate adults. For eons, precious children and adolescents have been victims of unimaginable horror. I've always wished for it to stop; yet governmental laws and actions have not been able to stop it. Pedophiles get a few years, less than ten, when they harm a child; they should be sent to an island prison, castrated and left to deal with other ugly men, sometimes women, who have dreadfully damaged the lives of children. No longer would they be able to "serve their time" and their life go on as if they had never done the evil while the damaged child suffers every day of their life, no matter how long. I know from the age of ten that the painful memories and clinical depression do not allow me to forget the abuse even though I will celebrate my 75th birthday next month. The harmed child can never reach her/his personal life potential because 'the power of the abuse' never leaves them; the guilty criminals should never be allowed back in any civilized society, Never. Other things I would do would be to cause alcohol and drugs to vanish in all their forms. Too many children are harmed every day by the substances in their home causing parental anger, neglect and abuse of many forms. Oh how I wish I could have my wish, for all the childrens' sake. ann ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** > > ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
> ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** 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 |
| Prompt: Describe your ideal dress: what clothing/outift do you feel best expresses who you are? When I was a little girl in rural Oklahoma, my mother and grandmother made 'shirttail' dresses for my sister and I. I hated those dresses and even today when I look at the black and white pictures, I hate them even more. School rules required girls to wear dresses, except during the cold Oklahoma winters. Then, we could wear store-bought jeans or hand sewn long pants. During my seventh grade year, the rules changed to allow us freedom to wear what we chose...that year I wore a skirt and sweater only one day. That was a special day for 4-H and dresses were required. I loved being outdoors for work or play. I always found adventures outdoors and I love sports such as softball and basketball, at home or school. Wearing jeans was was just the right apparel for girls like me who loved being outdoors. California rules required girls to wear dresses or skirts with blouses or sweaters. The rule applied in secondary schools and college so I had no choice except at home or during the summertime regarding what i wore. Yes, I wore girls jeans; they had zippers on the left side. During the summers I worked in the fields and orchards in California's fruit industry, so jeans was my style. After college, being a school teacher, once more the rules demanded women teachers must wear dresses. So I followed the rules, except on non-school days. Churches demanded women 'dress as women' and always wear dresses or skirts. Sure, I followed the rules. During the 1970's something wonderful happened that made me happier than bees on a pile of honey. Pantsuits for women became the style...at work or church or anywhere. Today, I'm most fully, handsomely dressed when wearing a pantsuit or my colorful wool dress jacket with dark slacks, appropriate jewelry and comfortable shoes. To be really well-dressed, I wear my rhinestone necktie, stones set in gold, to 'top off' my outfit. Most of all, I'm comfortable and feel well-dressed. |
| Prompt: What do you suppose you might be doing at this exact moment if the internet had never been invented? I usually respond to the prompts during the evening, a time when I start a new story also. Witihout the Internet, I would be watching television while also reading a book unless it's still daylight outdoors; then I would be working among my flowers or just sitting in my rocking chair, with a puppy in my lap and one on my shoulders, enjoying the cool of the evening. The Internet serves me as a place to do quick research. I do not spend time on facebook, games or 'just reading'. It's simply a research tool that works especially well for me as a writer because the Internet brings me visits with Writing.com friends every day. Those wonderful friends whom I may never meet in person, have changed my life by investing their time in reviewing my writing and helping me to improve. I'm truly grateful to each of them. What I am really thankful for are computers because they make writing quicker and easier than cursive writing or typewriting original stories. The invention of computers made my life so much easier and opened the door to writing seriously. Before being able to quickly correct errors, I could never get to a final copy of stories and essays. I remember my college days in the 1960's when I owned a 1950 typewriter and felt lucky to have it so I could type rather than handwrite my college term papers. Other girls at the dorm borrowed the typewriter for the same reason. The one I had was what I learned on...no letters visible...After my senior year when I took typing I, the school replaced them so I purchased one. Years later, my kids added tape showing the letters when they were maybe twelve yrs of age and they enjoyed trying to use it. I enjoyed the sounds; no computer 'dings' whenever a new line of type is started; they made you feel busy and that you were accomplishing something just by the many sounds they made. While I still have that 1950 Royal typewriter, I never touch it. Who would, with a computer available? Our generations coming into adulthood now, are so fortunate to have both computers and the Internet which make life so much easier, and more fun. |
| who is your hero? My son is my hero these days. As a boy, he always hoped to fly airplanes. As a teenager, he set his sights on serving in the U.S. Air Force. Unfortunately, he had a 'lazy eye' which caused near sightedness, so was unable to qualify as a pilot. Even so, he spent twenty-six years in the USAF, serving his country around the world, sometimes in the states, other times in South Korea, Greenland, the Philippines, Spain, Germany and other places. Now, retired, he's a consultant to the USAF, taking on some amazing, secret and difficult projects. Through his growing up days, he paid attention to me; his interest in the work I did and how often I was discriminated against because I was a woman. He was aware my salary was less than the salary of men doing the same or similar job, that I was passed by when promotions like Vice President positions were being given to men. He heard my descriptions of how often those men were less competent than I was. He became more and more aware that his mother was more intelligent that most other women he came to know. Today, he makes me proud when he says, "Mom, I think every woman I ever worked with, was jealous of you. I always told them that "My mom's the standard for all women to have to live up to". He laughs when he says that, and he knows I know iti's his way of saying how proud he's always been of his Mom." When other guys tell about getting a car for high school graduation, he tells them, "I'd have gotten a car too, if my mom had been a man." He knows my working years, I was among the women who made work life better for the women who came behind us in the workplace. It's nice to be understood and appreciated by my wonderful son. ann |
| June 2013 Prompts:for Reminiscenses: Memoir: Write a letter to be read after your death. It can be to a specific person.... Dear Arianna, my precious granddaughter, When you read this, I'll be in my grave; and if the spirit can make visits to those we've loved, then I'll be right there with you as you read this letter. My heart's message comes to you through years and years of missing you. That day in 1997, when your mother and her sheriff's deputy husband took you away from your court-ordered visitation with me, still wears heavily on my heart. Since that day and the day in court when her lawyer pressured and threatened you and Carissa, to tell a horrendous lie about your stay at my home, I've shed a million tears. My best friend was sitting nearby, outside the courtroom, where she watched two attorneys, one was your mother's, and one was supposed to represent you and Carissa, shake their fingers in yours and Carissa's faces while demanding you say, exactly what they told you to say. Your tears, as they did that, showed my friend and me that you knew they were lies, and your heart just wasn't into lying about your twelve years of happy visits to visit this grandmother who loved you very much. Because, in your fear of the lawyers and your mother, you told the lie that morning, the Boise, Idaho Judge decided, you no longer had to keep the previously court-ordered visits to GranMom's house. I have been very sad, very often, since that day, sixteen years ago. the Judge did say that you and Carissa were to be taken to GranMom's for a visit, when you asked; but you and I and your mother,know that she would never let you visit me again. Maybe she, her husband and lawyers, had you too scared to ever ask to visit me. Arianna, I want you to know today, I have thought of you and Carissa every day because I still love you both very much. My arms have stayed empty during the years you would have come with "Hi GranMom. I love you". And, even more, during the years you graduated from high school, married and became the mother of one or more children. I know your first, a little girl, was named Madison, but I don't know about the others. The sad thing that caused my lack of visits and knowledge about your life, was also created by your mother, Darla, who was a little abused girl in a home with a mean father, then was adopted by a mother who never liked her and hated her getting married and having a baby at the same time. The day your mother joyously carried her baby to meet his grandmother, your grandmother Boss grunted a 'he's cute' then disappeared into the back room until your dear mother left that day. For the first years of her marriage to my dear son, your mother she liked me; in a handwritten notebook she left at my house, she wrote of me, "She hugged me today. I'l glad she loves me." Tragically for you and Carissa, one day in 1997, her heart changed to hate toward me; nothing I had done or said could have caused that. Only the influence by someone else caused her to hate me, steal you and Carisisa from me, teach you to hate me so much that you threatened "any family member who ever told me news about you would be sorry." You wrote me that email after I had sent you a check and a birthday gift. The ugly anger you displayed was exactly like I had s seen from your mother too many times. Because of her hate, she taught you to hate your father and this grandmother, both whom have loved you dearly and deeply. Arianna, I don't know if you will ever overcome the hatred you were taught; but if and when you do, I hope you will remember how much your GranMom loved you and wanted to be sure you knew your father in spite of his absence while serving in the USAF around the world, that you knew your cousins and aunts and uncles, so I made sure you spent time with all of them during those weekends and other visits to my home. I just wanted you to be happy. Sadly, during your formative years, when you would arrive at my home for your 'every third week visit with me, you always arrived in a different personality than when you left: your home life with your mother and her "husband" of the moment, was so stressful that your 'technique' to avoid confrontation, was to 'become your mother"; so "Darla' would be her standoffish, angry silent, self inside you, stealing you again and again. My precious little Arianna would hide behind your beautiful face, for the first hours, until you were happy and safe again at GranMom's house with your cousins, your brother and your friends in the neighborhood along with your loving GranMom and your dear Aunt Bev, an older teenage girl who loved you dearly. I grieved at having to return you at the time required, to the home where you were too scared to be the precious Arianna. Carissa's way was to become silent, like a scared 'victim' when she would arrive from your mom's house, worst the time her 'husband' had chopped your and her new shoes with his hunting knife while cursing me. Is there any wonder I was worried and scared when I had to return you to that negative home. Arianna, Why do I write this to you now, as my life has ended? Because it is my prayer that you somehow, some day, found healing in your soul and have been able to NOT be like your mother as you relate to your children. That's something I've feared, that another generation might have the same dreadful heartbreak as I have known. I loved you every day of Your Life, all the years, you and Carissa were gone from me. I hope you find some level of understanding and joy, knowing you were always loved. Hug yourself for me and share my love with your grandchildren some day. Still Loving YOU from the Other Side, GranMoM Ann |
The story I wrote today "Free at Last" is about a young woman who was successful in her work and relationships until clinical depression took over her life and pushed her almost to suicide. At that worst moment during the illness, she realized what was happening, turned her gun over to the sheriff's office and went to see her physician. Through medical research, anti-depressant medications and her psychiatrist's intervention, she lived beyond the illness, and a tragic event during childhood, to become well and her true self. Then, she was able to let her heart be open to love. Besides reflecting my biography, the hardest part I had to deal with that is in the story was about clinical depression. It was unknown as a physical-medical illness; and society thought it was an emotional roller coaster and labeled the sufferer as 'unfit' even in the 1970's when Thomas Eagleton ran for Vice President in the U.S. and was removed from the ballot. When it was found to have a 'physical' cause and 'anti-depressants became available, the stigma is applied less often. The other part of the story is the beginning of romance between two lesbians, falling in love for the first time. I write to inform. This story informs the reader about the anguish of clinical depression, the medical response to it; and it also informs the reader about lesbian romance, that we fall in love in the same way as heterosexual hearts. Written today, after my five years of writing stories, I found the phrases, verbs, descriptions flowed more smoothly and in far more complex sentences than that first one did five years ago. To remind me of how far I've come as a writer, with the help of WDCers, I keep the first story in my portfolio where it is entitled, "Damn the Whiskey." I didn't start writing until I took a writing course at age 69, so I am continually aware of the improvement constant practice makes for a writer. Today's story did push me forward in my writing skill just as the writing I do during the next five years will push me further. Ann |
| Prompt photo: The face of a beautiful German Shepherd "Ray, why would you name such a beautiful German Sherpherd such a worthless name as "Useless"? Ray looked at his sister then knelt beside Useless. "You're not like you name, "UseBoy", you're the most dependable, valued pet I've ever owned. I've brought you to be with my sister here in Idaho where you'll have acres of pasture to play and hunt. My good dog, You've given me unconditional love, you've been the most wonderful pet a man could have. I'm sorry I have to leave you but my job has changed and I'll be living in Japan for a couple of years. I can't take you with me. The only way I can take that promotion is to give you a good home. Here with Ann and her two precious children, you'll be loved and cared for and, at the same time, you can keep the children safe. I've got to leave now. Be a good dog and love your new family. I promise I'll come see you as soon as possible. I know it won't be for two years, but I'll think of you every day." Ray stood up, still fondling Useless's ears. "I'll call you at times." He walked to his car with tears in his eyes and drove toward his California home. Ray's sister, Ann, and her two children sat beside Useless and petted him. A few days later the telephone rang and the operator told Ann, "I have a person to person call for Useless. Is Useless there?" Ann grinned. She called out, "Useless! Useless! You have a phone call. Come boy, Ray has to hear your voice or I can't accept the call. Useless looked into Ann's eyes and listened to her voice. "ARF. ARF" Ray told the operator, "That's him. Put the call through." Uselsss perked his handsome ears and barked again. Ray said, "Ann, tell him I miss him. He was a wonderful pal." After further conversation, Ray asked to hear Useless's voice again before he said 'good bye'. Useless was our magnificent pet for fourteen years. We loved him and Ray did visit him. ANN |
| Hello Everyone. This month we are going to be sending out some prompts with images in them. We would like you to write a piece about what you see and at the end of your entry submit your guess of what you think the image is about. At the end of the month we will pick the most original blog and an award will be given to the lucky winner. So be creative with your thoughts and above all have fun! 1st image prompt- What do you see in this image? First, let me say how happy I am that you're asking us to write in depth, creatively, using a prompt to encourage stories and substance. The best WDC experience I've had was the 30 Day Image Prompt contest because it demanded creativity from each writer, and that's what we're at WDC for. Second, in the image I see my grandmother's cat and remember how much joy her pet gave her. I've never been a "cat person" but I love to see relationships between two personalities whether my grandmother and her cat or my brother with his beloved dog, or my daughter and her daughter. There's so much to learn from them. Lucy was playing in her sandbox under the blue Montana sky. At eight years old, she would create castles and caves then take a wood chip, pretend it was a car or a riding horse, and move it around the sand while chatting with invisible 'neighbors' she met along the way. Although she was focusing on her play activity, Lucy was also listening to the sounds around her. She heard cars drive past the house, the television soap opera which her mother was listening to; however, she paid no attention to the sounds until she her the leaves rustle under the shrub near by. Then she heard a soft "meow, meow". The sweet sound pulled her away from the sand castles and she crawled on her knees toward the sound. A big smile crossed her face when she saw the tiny yellow kitten. Like any other little girl, she began to talk to the furry ball of kitten while slowly reaching for it. "Kitty, kitty, I won't hurt you. Kitty, Kitty, come to me. I'll take care of you." Soon, she had the baby kitten in her hands, and held it close to her chest. "Sweet little baby. Are you hungry? Where did you come from? There're no yellow mama cat living near here; so where's your mama?" Her voice was soft and low as the kitten curled into a ball in her warm hands. Lucy carried the kitten to the kitchen. Holding it against her with one hand, she opened the refrigerator then took our the carton of milk and poured some into a pan which she set on the stove. She pushed the button to 'warm' for a few minutes and kept putting her finger into the milk until lit was just barely warm. After clicking the burner off, she poured the milk into a saucer and sat on the floor to watch her new pet drink the milk. "You're so pretty, little kitten. I like the color of your fur so I'm going to call you Goldie. I have an Aunt Goldie and she has hair the same color as yours." Lucy carried Goldie into the living room where her mother was reading a magazine while watching her television story. "Mama, this is Goldie. She's my pet kitten because she found me in the sandbox. Can I keep her?" She smiled. Her mother smiled and petted the kitten. "Of course you can. She loves you. I can tell." "Thank you, Mama." Lucy turned and went back out to the sandbox to share the rest of her day with Goldie. |
| Hello, Prompt: Make a list of things that make you happy. Then make a list of things that annoy you or make you unhappy. I don't like to dwell on negative things so am not going to rack my brain today to write about such things. On the other hand, I prefer to fill my mind with positive and happy things and people. My readers who want to know what makes me unhappy can know it's just the opposite of what I'm writing today. The wonderful experience of 'falling in love' was the happiest thing to ever happen to me. I didn't fall in love until I was sixty years of age and my heart gets all warm and pumps excitedly even now, fifteen years later, as I remember such joy. I hadn't expected to know that beautiful experience so it was a gift, a surprise. Molly and I have been together since then and still enjoy the love. I am so happy each time I receive a phone call or visit with my three children and seven grandchildren. From the day they were born, they have given me joy. My son and his new wife just spent a week with Molly and I and we shared so much joy, conversation and laughter. Molly and his Staci loved each other from the time they had their first conversation. Shared joy and love make life wonderful. Awakening each morning, alive and beside my sweet Molly, makes me happy. She has a serious type of diabetes so each day is another miracle. We talk, laugh and love each other every day and are thankful for each new day together. Having a happy family who enjoy each other brings me happiness. Life is good and I'm thankful to be happy and healthy as I celebrate my 75th year. Ann |
| PROMPT: Imagine you had an opportunity to sit down with God. What 5 questions would you ask Him? God: In the very first family of human beings created, there was hatred, jealousy and murder. Why didn't you start over or prevent the ugliness of the human heart? God, If you didn't create the beautiful Universe with 'The Big Bang", why did you allow the scientific minds who seek truth, to tell all of us, You, in fact, created with "the big bang"? God, If Christianity was Your way for humans to know You, why create another religion along the same path of the generations of humans, when You must have known Muslims and Christians would be the source of most wars on the earth? God, it's one thing for adult humans to destroy each other through all the centuries of their existence, why allow children to be the object of most pain in the world? God, I still cannot understand why all the humans who lived before Christ's death and resurrection, had no path of eternal life? God, I can understand you wanted humans to chose to know you, but why wait so many millions of years and deaths and pain among them, before giving a Way to eternal life; and why not allow all humans living at that time to know the Way to salvation? God, Will the animals loved by humans, or all animals, have a place in heaven? We who have loved a pet and had sympathy and empathy toward all animals, want to know they'll be in Heaven for eternal life also? |
Two rules I live by, my secrets to life: messages for the human spirit "Life is too short to be unhappy" so live the moments finding joy and the good; and make decisions that create joy and happiness even when the decision seems to difficult. "Enjoy the age that you are because you can never be this age again" whether its being age six and starting school, age twelve before the responsibility of adolesence, age 22 graduating from college with the world of career and adulthood ahead; or as I am now, 75 with fewer years available ahead so I enjoy each day as if there's only one more left. {b-item:1197508) (Rated: E) ENJOY THE AGE THAT YOU ARE Message I learned 36 years ago about loving your child or yourself at each age. by best4writing-Peace2AllLesbians (97) |
| May 28, 2013: Tell us about something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail (and tell us why you haven’t tried it yet). I wouldn't bother with something that required no effort to succeed. Give me the challenge, not the easy 'guaranteed' path. "Guaranteed to fail" tells me no effort is really needed; just point yourself in that direction and "no big deal". How boring my life would be if I spent my life, my moments, only doing what was no challenge? |
| Prompt: What are you most/least looking forward to about summer? Regardless of our age, summer still begins when the children are out of school for their summer vacation. Many of the teenagers will, like me, work during the summer to buy school clothes or supplies for the next year of school. When I was a teenager, 1951 to 1960, I started each summer picking apricots, then peaches from the age of thirteen through twenty. As soon I turned sixteen, I also worked in the cannery from 4:00 p.m. until all the peaches or tomatoes of the day were canned. Sometimes we worked until 3:00 a.m. It was hard work climbing those twelve to fourteen ladders, and it was messy removing spots on the tomatoes as they passed by on the moving belt. Importantly, it was seasonal work that helped students like me earn money for clothes and supplies for school and college. Now, when the summer days are here, I enjoy working outdoors in my lawn and flower beds. When I moved to this house thirteen years ago, nobody on our three blocks had colorful plants in their front yards; they had lots of green shrubs and bushes but nothing colorful. I was determined to start a new trend and it worked. After my large front flower beds providing colorful flowers from tulips in early spring to the bright colors of asters in the fall. Now, most of the houses have color in their front yards. This summer and others, I look forward to visits with my grandchildren. They range in ages from ten to thirty-one. Some have children they will bring to visit me if I don't get to Idaho, Colorado, California and Washington to see them. Their visits remind me of my visits to my grandparents' home where I got to spend time on their farm in Oklahoma. Those were wonderful days helping Papa with his sheep and cows or helping grandmother peel fruit for canning and take care of her chickens and turkeys. Now I have chickens, a pet turkey, a cottontail rabbit, cats and little doggies for my grandchildren to enjoy when they come to visit. For me now in retirement, the summer means fishing and camping. My life partner, Molly, and I love to take our little camper to the hills in Oregon and Washington and spend our time sitting around the campfire or holding a fishing pole still long enough to reel in a rainbow trout for dinner. The warmth of summer is my greates joy. As I get older, the cold of winter is physically painful, so hot summer days are a welcome treat. HAPPY SUMMER TO MY READERS. ann |
| May 24, 2013: Do you consider yourself the outgoing performer or the appreciative bystander? Why? I would rather give a speech instead of writing one. I would rather watch a talented actor play a role than trying to perform myself. The situation makes the difference in whether I would choose to be the outgoing performer or the appreciative bystander. In my earliest years, I was shy and would have always chosen to be the bystander. However, as I attended high school and college, I changed. I had something worth saying. My confidence in my abilities increased. I took an interest in most everything and wanted to be involved, even to be the leader or the spokesperson. Education changed me from being the bystander but to be involved, to speak, to lead, to make something good happen. If that meant performing on a stage or in the back room, I learned to find my place according to my skills and interest. I regret that I did not have enough 'popularity' in high school nor enough self-confidence to run for student body office. Fifty years later some of the 'popular students' my friends told me I should have run for student body office; that they would have voted for me. So, I missed an important opportunity to be the performer instead of the bystander. The other regret I have in my life is that my circumstances changed and prevented me from running for political office. The year I had planned to run for County Supervisor, then to run for state legislature in my state, was the year I got a divorce. 1975 was a time when divorced women would have been tagged as 'somehow wrong' and a single mom 'should be at home'. During that year, because of the divorce, our home was sold; therefore, I no longer lived where I believed I could build a base for election. Now, as a writer, I believe WDCers would say, after reading my writings, that I am in fact, "an outgoing performer" instead of just an 'appreciative reviewer" because I write what needs to be said, I take risks with most of what I write, and I am pelted with negative reviews because of writing about gays and lesbians loving each other, or about so-called Christians not living up the The Golden Rule or my anger at pedophiles who hurt so many children in ways that hurt them all their lives. So, I remain the 'outgoing performer' here today at the young age of seventy-five. Who knows, I may still run for elective political office...? I probably won't since I live where the County officials won't let me serve on a jury just because I'm 'over seventy years old'. That makes me angry because my mind is as great as it ever was and recently my IQ was determined to be 124. Maybe I will run for elective political office anyway; nobody will hire me to work on any other paying job.{/c} |
| PROMPT: I ALMOST FORGOT... I almost forgot the reason my memory often fails me.... The failure of memory is a jamor problem for too many people over seventy in an age when dementia and Alzimiers are often talked about. It's not a typing error like the word 'jamor' which is not a word but should be 'major'.........an error I made when my 75 yr brain, that's been badgered by depression and ten years of seizures, just didn't work properly. More and more, my brain doesn't let me remember something I've done hundreds of times. An example was recently when I tried for two days to remember how to add a cover to my WDC items; Finally, I gave in and asked for help with that simple but frightening problem. Almost forgetting, or completely forgetting when my IQ is 124, is more frightening than if I had never been smart enough to remember everything. That sentence may be garbled to anyone who has not had to deal with the last quarter of life, but to me it is truly frightening even when I "almost forgot' something. I've known depression through the years, caused by having the "S" serotonin in my brain, has helped to cause the forgetfulness. Lucky people whose serotonion in the brain is not the "S" type, don't have depression as proven by testing twins. For me the "S" sertonion depression plus the ten years I had what doctor called 'kinnetic brain seizures' which caused every muscle to relax also cause me to break many bones and it caused damage that has affected my memory so I 'almost forget' many times. In two car accidents I've had head injury that made me unconscious for a period of them; that may have affected my brain's ability to remember now. I've never used alcohol, drugs or anything I thought might affect my brain functioning; all that's happened have been by life. Life happens every day and we never know what happened today that can affect our memory in the years ahead. Not only is 'forgetting' frightening, but it is also embarassing and very sad for me. I'm sure other people have the same feelings about forgetfulness. When you meet a person who can't remember even a simple thing for a moment, please be kind and considerate and lend the help you can and try not to cause further embarassment or fear. Living fully becomes more important the longer you live; May you never forget, even for a moment. |
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