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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: look out your window and write a poem/story about what you see: Twins Out Front Their mighty size, Perfectly formed, Matching green leaves, The two are twins Born the same day Long, long ago. Sisters for years, They grew nicely Putting forth leaves During the spring, Changing colors With every fall. One fought proudly, Defeating moss; The other did not, So it has died, The last leaf fell Saying, “goodbye.’ One still stands tall Filled with spring leaves To live longer Creating space For birds to nest Another year . Free verse, four syllables per line, four verses, no rhyme. |
| Day 591: July 2, 2014 Prompt: Celebrating the 4th of July. I now celebrate the Fourth by July by staying home to protect my roof from fires of illegal fireworks bombing the neighborhood AND I never miss the wonderful celebration on television from Washington, D. C. July 2 - While walking in the park one day... Who do you encounter? What memories enter your mind? While walking in the park yesterday, I met a met carrying a clipboard. As we waited for the buses to pass so we could cross the street, he spoke kindly, "It's a nice day to be in the park today." As usual for me, I agreed. We spoke further and I mentioned I was a writer. I was carrying two of my books with me. "What do you write about?" he asked. "Well, my first book is a story about a retired schoolteacher and her teenage neighbor. The setting is in rural America during World War II so it's actually a story about what life was like on the homefront when our fathers, uncles, brothers and others were away in Europe and the Pacific locations of the war." "That sounds interesting. My father was a boy during those years." I smiled. "Here, if I can borrow your pen, I'll autograph the book for you. I'm glad to share it. Most of my eleven books about living as a lesbian in today's world. I didn't come out until I was sixty." He smiled as I handed him the autographed book, "A Life Renewed" then he added, "It's interesting you mention being a lesbian. I'm going through a trying time these days because my wife has said she has fallen in love with a woman. I don't know what to do about it; it just doesn't fit my mind and world. And we have kids too." "I'm sorry to hear your world is being turned upside down. On the other hand, I understand your wife. It would be good if there was an "anonymous" group meeting where you could talke with others going through the same feelings and concerns you have. I can understand having known from age sixteen that I had the heart of a lesbian yet it was dangerous for all those years to speak about it. I do know that the love from the heart of a lesbian to another woman is truly from the heart, not something sexual or foolish, but very real romantic heart feelings. I married the man who pursued me all through college, then divorced him sixteen years later after he almost killed me. In fear, I got a divorce. I raised my children from ages 12, 12 and 4, then a grandson before I came out." "I was raised by a Baptist minister so I just cannot accept homosexuality. So how can I accept what she is doing?" "Sir, I believe PFlag, Parents and Friends of lesbians and gays, would be a good place to discuss your feelings and learn how to handle the whole situation. Today even teenagers understand the validity of loving a person of one's same gender." "I hadn't thought of going there. Maybe I will." "If I can borrow your pen again, I want to give you this book I'm holding. It's volume seven of "Lesbians Rock" and the first story is mostly my life story, especially when I lived in Davis, California. Maybe there's something in this book that will give you food for thought. I appreciate your beliefs, having been a Southern Baptist Sunday School teacher for many years. Yet, I'd like to give you the book just in case it will help you as well as your children, get through the times ahead for you." "Thank you. I will read it. I need to learn all I can so I can do right by my kids." "And thank you for this conversation. You've been kind, and open for information. Be strong in your heart as you deal with the next events in your family. I'm sure your wife will be moving on if she has found the love she wished for thirty years ago. Go with God and go in peace." "Thank you." He accepted the book, shook my hand, then went his way. (This really did happen yesterday. ann) |
| Day 579: June 20 Prompt What was your first job? I was in the peach orchard just after sunup. I didn't have far to go because the orchard was just down the street and across the canal. My mother had started picking peaches there but within three days, she had a full time job at JCPenneys, Modesto's Central Valley. We had moved from Oklahoma to California a month earlier. I donned my jeans, long sleeved shambry shirt, baseball cap and tennis shoes. It was 1951. I had just turned thirteen and worked on my own to earn my clothing and school money for the coming school year in eighth grade. I went straight to get my twelve foot ladder and picking bucket at the set of four trees which I had just finished the afternoon before. I was happy because the orchard foreman had been so impressed by this thirteen year old's work ethic, he allowed me to continue to work for him after my mother started her new job. The most difficult part of the job was moving the ladder around and around each tree to set it where I could pick all the peaches. No peach picker could leave even one of those big juicy peaches behind. The peach pickers like me always quit at 2:00 in the afternoon so the men who loaded and delivered the freshly-picked fruit to the cannery for processing. I was always glad on those hot days when it was two and I could go home and shower the itchy peach fuzz off of me. Sunday after picking peaches until 2:00, I would shower, wash my hair then go to a movie, usually alone. One Sunday I caught the City Bus to go downtown to see one of my favorite movies of all time, "Magnificient Obsession" with Rock Hudson and Jane Wyman, two of my favorite Hollywood stars of the fifties. I will mention what happened as I walked from the bus to the theater. I was strolling along, minding my own business when a long, loud "wolf whistle" came from behind me. Now, any teenage girl just has to look to see the guy who gave the whistle; she hoped he wasn't scary. Well, I did look around, and it was my brother and his girlfriend. They teased me for weeks because I turned to see who was looking at me while I was looking back to see who was looking back at me. By the way, his girlfriend was special to me because I had a "girl crush" on her long before he charmed her into his life; she became my sister-in-law so I got to spend lots of time with her for years; not a bad situation for a "lesbian heart" even though I didn't understand at thirteen I was a lesbian. For a change, I didn't need to cook evening dinner for my family. The days I picked fruit, my sister cooked the dinner. Otherwise it was my daily job six days a week. |
Prompt for June 14, 2014 Prompt: "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." - Edgar Allan Poe Write a story, a poem, your thoughts, or an essay. It's Saturday so be creative and have fun with this prompt . My Life's Dream Through our teenage years, My sister knew She would marry a man, Have children, not seek fame; Just live the ordinary, The expected path of woman. I was different; not the same In my dreams; Sought knowledge, college life, A plan not pattern cut with knife, But desire for something more; First as schoolteacher. My dream was not of marriage, No heart for a man; Just the same I followed social rule And married one when out of school, As expected by church and family. Then wanted my life to be much more. My dream was that I must contribute To the world, not just to simply live Somehow I knew I had to give Skills and service to humanity; So I did through all of my career Spoke of needs to who would hear Added to community with my strengths. At retirement, I did not wish to just sit tight, Doing nothing those later days; Find something to add to the world. Then my dream began to unfurl As writing became the path To change the world with words. After writing stories and some books, I know I've added messages That have changed the minds of many Who've learned our world isn't tiny But filled with people of every hue, Even those with love not understood. My dreams continue as today I sit Wondering what's ahead, Now that I've written how people live, And asked for understanding and to give A place for every person of the world Without discrimination or hate. May God bless this life I've lived With an open heart Seeking justice, acceptance for all, Not seeing color or even how tall Or short or lesbian or gay Are people who may pass my way. I don't remember the event that brought the idea of my lifetime dreams to be written; but in that moment, I stopped the TV, left WDC to Word and put it on paper. It really does show how my life purpose revealed itself through stages of my life. |
Serendipity Sitting on a bus Seeing her tears, I was wondering, "Why is she crying?" I moved beside her Then gave her my name. Smiling through her tears, "That's my nickname too." We chatted a while And joy came our way; Twins, separated. Serendipity. Free verse, each line five syllables, three verses showing "serendipity" without |
| In June my flowers fill my yard, especially this year with so much rain. It always brings tall grass among the flowers; in usual Springs, the grass is quickly covered by the wonderful floral plants but this year the grass grew so fast, it's tall and seeding, a year when I haven't been in the "Spring mood" to keep it removed. In June my dozen hydrangeas bloom bright and large, the Daisies cover the areas, roses in perfect blooms while the asters deepen their roots and expand into wider circles. I love the June of my May flowers from April showers. We love watching "Chopped", a marvelous cooking show where the five ingredients a cook is required to use, can be dreadful. "You've Been Chopped" In days past, cooks competed At the county fair. Now it’s on the food shows Through televisions air. With their fear of being chopped, Four cooks will compete Knowing only one of four can win And four feel defeat. “You’ve been chopped” judges say Then tears may appear, ‘til one is given the applause, “As a cook, you’re dear.” Three walk away alone and lost, Knowing what it’s like Having a dish on the chopping block; In the heart, a spike. Good cooks at their work and home, Feed their family; Yet on the T.V. Food Network, The winning may flee. The “food gods” are the judges; Taste, decide the best, Then say to one, “You’ve been chopped;” Didn’t pass the test. To win the cooking challenge Means money and fame. Try another contest soon. Maybe then, win the game. |
| prompt: best friends, tell about yours. THE PEARL RING AND OUR FRIENDSHIP Dedicated to my friend, Patricia, Tris The pearl is your birthstone. Our friendship is the pearl of my life. The pearl isn't created instantly, But little by little until it is perfect; Like our friendship which began casually, Then little by little grew to today's perfection. Two different pearls in one ring Their difference reminds how different we are; Yet we share the same friendship love, Respect, admiration and caring shared always. The extra diamond-like stones, So bright and beautiful, Represent the extra-special moments That we've shared through the years. The variety of pearls and stones is significant And represents the wonderful variety We share in our experiences together as friends. The gold of ten caret is increasing in value Just as the worth of our friendship, The circle of the ring is complete and perfect; And it represents the completeness and perfection Of our friendship, truly the very best We've shared during these years together since 1973. This gift represents the excellence of friendship love. by Ann Patterson MY FRIEND, I REMEMBER Dedicated to Mary Brown, my friend since 1962 My friend, I remember good times... And, we've had some great times. As fifty years have passed And many miles we've traveled. I remember long walks, long talks, The kind that helped to sort problems And putting things into perspective So that each of us grew stronger. I remember crazy happenings Such as the 'theft' of car keys And your long walk in Apple Valley, And bucking horses on Sunday afternoons. I remember campfires and elk hunting And long conversations Which led o greater faith and personal growth For each of us in a continuing way. I remember sad times And those of frustrations. There were times for gifts, An exchange of books and an orange ash tray. There were troubled times and choices Which neither of us judged good or bad Because of our friendship And confidence in each other. I remember traveling many miles to enjoy a chat And appreciate the miles you've driven For a great visit no matter how short; And I expect it to happen now in our December years. I remember we've shared love and great friendship Though we're not together as much these latter years. You are still a dear and treasured friend to me And we will have good times ahead forever, I believe Ann Patterson |
| May 17-Opinion Sat. | Autism, ADHD, Mongoloid, Special Child; Prompt: These children are born with special needs. How do you show support and acknowledge them? Are they more of a burden or blessing? "Are they a burden or a blessing?" You asked a question that should never enter the mind of parents or society. Thank God that American society and others like England, quit throwing these 'burdens' into large, crowded, impersonal mental insitutions. May God cause all countries to treat all persons with any handicap/disability as if they are normal and can contribute to all of society. In 1967 I took a job as Volunteer Services Director at the Idaho State School and Hospital where 700 intellectually disabled persons were housed,away from society as if they were only a nusiance, a burden to be thrown away. Such institutions became the 'dumping ground' for even the physically challenged with cerebral palsey whose intelligence was not lower than the average person. In those days, physicians holding the newborn would look into the parent's faces and say, 'put IT into the institution and forget IT". Throwing away precious babies and children, thus not allowing them to even try to be a good and loving and productive part of society. Families, doctors and society WERE the BURDEN, not the precious child who, with love and home, had a chance to become far more than "IT". At that time, Idaho was studying Denmark's way of serving these children so their adult life could be somewhat normal, or giving them a place to live that was not just a big impersonal warehouse. Our director, John R. Marks, M. D., chose to do whatever it took to provide homes, group homes, a variety of services to families, and every way possible to give as many of the 700 as possible, a HOME, their own room, being part of 'family' either their own or a shared one. Only those who needed full time medical care or those totally unable to care for themselves, were left at the institution and they were given true care to be 'all each of them could be'. I pray that caring attitude has continued since Dr. Marks' early death. He was their angel. At the same time, my friend had a child disabled mentally so badly her brain did not keep up with her body's growth, but Betty and her loving husband, cared for their precious child for years until it was critical that she live at the hospital; I remember their tears the day they left her in the hospital where she could get the care she needed. One mother of a forty year old man who was in the institution, never missed a single day of visiting her son unless she was ill. Her son was profoundly disabled yet she was there for him from the years earlier when she could no longer care for him at home. These parents and others like them loved their child, never called him or her "IT", and treated them as the precious person they were. During those years I enlisted volunteers to visit the residents, to bring birthday and Christmas parties, take them shopping, be their friend for an hour or longer. Those volunteers were the most wonderful people I've ever met. During those years by speaking engagements statewide, I encourage people to quit saying "idiot, imbecil, mongoloid, moron" and to just say 'people'. Instead of "mongoloid" the correct word is "fellow human being with Downs Syndrome." May all the world see the humanity in each precious child and adult person, as a blessing to the world, not a burden. Ann |
| Day 540: May 12, 2014 Prompt: Write about a window that opened in your life when a door was closed. I was sixty two, started working for United Way. Things went well for w while, then I began to make mistakes, for get things, was extremely sleepy at times while at work, worried, then found i was having seizures that make me lose time; It wasnt 'mal' but all muscles would relax, I would fall down and break bones, or find myself asleep at my computer in the office; realized driving to see clients was dangerous. So I quit and went on Social Security. I was lost...not having a job to go to and things required of me....happy with my sweet Molly, my wife, but lost when alone during the day. the new door was deciding to take a writing course at age 69......then I became a writer. It felt so good to have something to be doing..........eventually I found Writing.Com and began to focus on writing every day while also enjoying relationships and activities here. It was a new place, not just a door, but it changed my life. I had something to do each day that was important, writing. These years here have been wonderful and I've written over 3,000 items, can only post 1000 so have removed many, put others in long, very long folders or items just to keep writing more everytime I reach a thousand again. This door of writing was a great blessing for my life. Without writing and writing.com, I don't know what I would be doing these final years of life. As it is, I'll probably quietly die one day while in the middle of writing a review or a story for a contest. That sounds so nice and peaceful; but I don't believe it will happen for another 25 years, so don't be sad for me. My life is so good and writing is a wonderful open door that never closes. ann |
| Day 530: May 2, 2014 Prompt: Mother's Day is coming up. What is the best Mother's Day gift you ever gave or received. Alternative prompt: Write a story or poem about Mother's day (it can be fiction). At my age, just 75, too many of my life experiences have faded in my memory. Yes, it worries me but I can do nothing to enhance my brain's way of remembering; yes, it scares me. Everyone past sixty has a worry, a fear of dementia and Alziemiers. My grandmother was fine until age 92, then spent 8 years in the throes of Alziemiers. I just hope my brain let's me be 'in the moment' until I leave this world and my wonderful family of three children, seven grandchildren, nine great grandchildren. It might not have been exactly on "Mothers Day" but an amazing 'mother' moment gave great joy to my aunts and uncles who had watched and grieved their mother's "long goodbye" with alziemiers, never expecting to hear her speak their names again or even know who they were. One day as they had arrived from three states to visit together, they went to see her in the nursing home; she didn't know them and didn't respond to them. Then her minister of many years walked in and took her hand in his. In that amazing moment, she said, "Brother John, meet my kids. She raised her hand and spoke the name of all five of her adult children, watched them interact with the minister and her. Then she was gone again. It never happened again. Those five 'children' of hers, were filled with joy then tears. The son who lived the fartherest away was most blessed and had tears in his eyes when he told me about that wonderful moment. All of them were blessed by that last visit of their beloved mother. She died five years later, curled into fetal position lying in a crib. I saw her during her last year, kissed her warm forehead and told her I'd meet her in heaven.
Mother's Love Love blooms and flower in the mother's heart as the tiny body forms cell by cell in her womb. Love's joy explodes the blessed day of birth as fingers touch mother's face and she counts one to ten. Mother's love never ends while the passing years transform the child to man, good or bad, her love increases.
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| DAY 529: MAY 1ST PROMPT Prompt: Write a thank you letter to someone you are thankful for. Dear Daddy, It's been so long since I could sit around the kitchen table, the round oak one, and chat with you through the night. Those were my best times with you, having tea while you drank coffee that kept us awake for hours. I wish I could do it again these days and share with you all the good things that have happened in my life since you left in 1965. I love you. You always knew that. You always let me know just how proud you were of me, my accomplishments, my focus on what was important to me. You understood how I was different from the others. I almost understood what you meant when you told me I was a lesbian, that it would be a difficult life to live, that I would be wise to keep it private until I became an adult. By the time I understood the danger I would be in if I did not keep it private, you were gone. I so needed you to talk to then. Thanks for having so much pride in me all my years. Daddy, I know you had what was not understood as a disease called "addiction to alcohol" with a body that must have tormented you all those Sundays when you stayed home, didn't go to a bar but stayed to enjoy those wonderful Sundays with all the family there. I love that you decided to learn to cook so you could have Sunday dinner ready to serve when the rest of us got home from church. You became a wonderful cook. I can see you now, carrying chicken or steaks outdoors to barbecue over the coals on your handmade barbecue. I know that Thanksgiving Day was the first time you cooked turkey dinner with all the trimmings. Us kids with our friends ate it like it was the best we'd ever tasted; actually it was quite strongly seasoned. We loved you for it. Daddy, I could write reams of paper for this letter, but I'll close here. You knew how to give me advice I'd understand and follow without any pressure. I've tried to emulate your style with my wonderful children. Thank you from the heart of your daughter who still understands you... with love, ANN |
| DAY 522 April 24,2014 Prompt: Do you play in your daily life? What says playtime to you? Play? What is that? I don't remember playing as a child. I was shy and serious and was older than all my girl cousins so at Grandmother's house, I had nobody to play with. At home with an older brother, a younger brother and sister just a year younger, it's as though we didn't share much in common. Those days after Christmas 1945, we played together with the Red Flyer wagon. Since we lived on a hill, even though the road was graveled, we gave each other many rides down the hill. Even that 'play' turned bad when my older brother purposely pushed and guided the wagon straight into the side ditch with my sister in the wagon and broken glass in the ditch. When we became adults, Larry admitted he did it on purpose; in fact, that he purposely caused injurious 'accidents' that hurt Ray and Linda. He must have been jealous of them. I was 'invisible' in my family and extended family so he never hurt me. I think that even though I was shy and quiet, he was afraid to hurt me; or nobody 'favored' me so he had no reason to get jealous. The only family member who 'favored' me turned out to be the one who sexually assaulted me my tenth year; damn him. As a teenager, I played girls' sports and was always happy on the court or on the field. Otherwise, I was the quiet, responsible child. As an adult, I'm not "playful" even though I've wished I were more outgoing, playful, filled with joy and laughter. I've found my most playful moments with my best women friends. Laughing and sharing times with them have been my greatest moments, those times when I laughed or made them laugh. They've given me my most enjoyable 'playtime' moments. Molly and I laugh together often. From the time I met her, she's made me laugh and be giddy or silly so we could laugh until my stomach hurts...real 'belly laughs'. I realize that I've associated "playtime, playfulness' with laughter as I wrote this. Thinking of that causes me to realize just how seriously I've lived my life and moments. Ann |
| Day 521: April 23, 2014 Prompt: Write about anything that works for you that others might helpful others. It can be anything that you find helpful in your daily life from writing to cleaning or anything in between. Back pain? Lie down. I was in a car accident where the drunk driver, who did not get a ticket from police, slammed against my car, demolishing it from the back, caused the drivers seat to bound forward, then fast and hard so much that it broke the springs of the seat. Subconsciously, I kept my right foot on the brake, severely straining, damaging my back. The next car coming at me if I had been pushed into the left turn was a volkswagon followed by an eighteen wheeler log truck! ( I was stopped to make a left turn) As with back damage in accidents, the damage doesn't show up on x-rays or scan, so I didn't get any $$$ for the 'rest of my life' damage that was done. I had had a scan two years before and right after the accident; no obvious damage? Two years later the back pain was intense. I could no longer sit in a chair with more than a minute before the pain was so bad. I had to lie down on the sofa or bed or slouch like your mother told you not to. That gave me some relief. Then the MRI scan showed two lower back disks forming a V toward my spine. That car accident, that drunk driver, did damage my back seriously. So, I moved a twin bed into the living room so I could 'slouch' back low in order to type my stories and watch TV or share in conversations. Sitting in any chair was just too painful. Now, when my back hurts, I rest it, slow down the nerve activity, relax the muscles, and the pain leaves. Back in high school sixty years ago, my Health Teacher spoke of "the wisdom of the body" and said listen, stay aware of what your body is telling you, respond to do what it's telling you. That advice has helped me get rid of back pain, joint pain, migraine pain,....understand what your body's wisdom is telling you...usually it's saying 'relax, let that part of me rest, or take me to a physician, or other 'taking care of your body" message. Become as wise to the messages 'the wisdom of your body" is sending to you. ann |
| DAY 515: APRIL 16TH PROMPT Prompt: What are your typical Easter celebrations, if any? No celebrations, just another day to enjoy being alive and well. I'm posting my note to an addict for you to read if you wish. You would think because of my child life, I would never have loved and married an alcoholic. But I did. It was not my marriage to a man for 16 years before he attacked me three times, strangling me to near death then divorce. I single-parent raised my kids, a grandson while my son was in USAF; but then I decided to come out as the lesbian I had known from 1953 at age sixteen. When I decided to go to Portland Oregon to come out, I felt an invisible pull, a new path for me, yet did not know what was ahead. As a lesbian, out proudly, I fell in love with Molly. We've been together fifteen years now; the first seven were filled with her alcoholism and all that it stole from us; yet, I loved her and believed in sobriety and life for her. Her parents had grieved so many years of her alcoholism and had prayed for her redemption from it. They and I talked about it the first time I met them. I stayed close to dear Molly, heard her cries "I want to stop but I can't" day after day; year after year;. One late afternoon the 4th year, she wanted more vodka, I wouldn't drive her nor hand her the keys. I was repairing the door entry and did not know that in her alcoholic state of mind, she did something that could have killed me and destroyed her. She was kneeling behind me hold the hammer with both hands ready to pound me to death. Thank God, my brother arrived from California and opened the door, saw her, called out, "Stop Molly. Stop." She did. She loved me but her alcohol almost destructed our lives. Yes, she took the keys, drove to buy vodka, had small accident causing arrest. When she returned home, she called Rehab...It was three more years before she was free from addiction. Today, she doesn't drink, but the years of alcohol destroyed her pancreas' ability to produce insulin, so her life is a horror daily of near death from either too low or too high blood sugar. Charlie, I believe her parents' prayers sent me to sit by Molly, fall inlove, and help her to find freedom from her drug. There's just no other reason I'd have loved an alcoholic. Maybe, her/your Higher Power has sent your wife to nagprayencouragebribebegurgelove you to freedom from your freedom from needing your drug of choice. I tell you this because Molly NEVER wanted to hurt me, yet she almost killed me. It was the drug, the alcohol. What if without expecting it, one dose of your drug changed you entirely and you did do something you'd always regret. It's that possible moment, I hope will give you the power to take the steps now that will ensure it never happens. You deserve the love your wife has to offer; she deserves something too as you both find your way together. Sent with love that you find the best your life has to offer you. ANN |
| Day 513 April 15, 2014 Prompt: Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where theyve taken you. "Hey, Annie. I'm asking about shoes. Did you have a favorite pair?" "Shoes! I'd rather not wear shoes at all. Now, at seventy-five, I wear socks but no shoes unless I have to go somewhere. In summer, no socks even. I don't particularly like shoes." "Really? Hard to believe. Tell me more." "Okay. Here's my story. My favorite pair of shoes were the days of no shoes at all. As a child we lived in rural Oklahoma and wore brown high-tops, lace-up shoes with socks to school but I was happiest when school let out for the summer and we could go barefooted. Great days except those first days with tender feet when everything was sticking against soft tender feet. It didn't take long before our feet were toughened and we could go everywhere on the land without a worry unless we stepped into the awful "goatheads" which had hard terrible stickers. I can still remember tiptoeing carefully trying to get out of the goathead' s patch. "Other than those instances, it was fun not-wearing-shoes I liked feeling the grass tickle against my feet, the warm sand of early summer oozing between my toes, wading in the creeks trying to catch minnows and tadpoles, feeling the soft cool mud cooling my feet, especially just after walking on hot rocks or sand. I loved just feeling free" "Annie, you make 'having no shoes' a good thing. Surely you wore shoes as a teenager, didn't you? Please say you did." "For me, shoes have just been something practical. During the 1950's, while the more petite feminine girls could wear slenderizing fashionable shoes, I wore 'penny loafers' until the style changed to saddleshoes, those which were white with a black or brown portion midway on both sides. The best of those days were the brushed white leather "white buck' shoes when every girl carried a soft leather pouch of white powder to brighten and whiten the shoes anytime they needed whitening." "Okay, Annie, but you grew up. Surely as an adult you wore something stylish. High heels or low heels? Tell me true." "I'm consistent. I hated having to wear high heels when I was grown-up. One day, I was a senior, my sister and our two friends went shopping, something I hated, especially that day because those other three insisted we 'dress up and' wear heels. and go shopping for dresses. I can remember getting so tired and bored while the other three giggled and stayed excited trying on all the pretty dresses. I'd never wear high heels of any height to go shopping, just to church, weddings and special evenings out/date nights." "Annie, I think you were born in the wrong era or wrong place. Where might have been better?" "I'd rather have lived in the time of Christ when everyone wore simple sandals or no shoes at all." "Sounds good to me." ** 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 ** 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 ** |
| Day 512: April 14, 1214 promptWith Earth Day coming up, I've begun to wonder if I'm doing enough to help Mother Earth. Answer the following Question.Am I doing enough to help the Mother Earth? Why? Why not? What else can I do? "Hey, Annie. I know you're busy, but do you think you're doing enough to help Mother Earth survive?" "Can anyone do enough? Think about this: I'll still live no more than 25 years, that's just one-third of the 75 I've been taking up space, using plastic items that don't dissolve and fertilizer on my yard, breathing out CO2 into the atmosphere, standing by while corporations clutter space with junk, and other damage I've tolerated. So, one thing I'm doing is planning to die instead of living and cluttering the environment another 75 years." "Come on, Annie. You dying isn't a plus for the earth. I'm a friend and I think you add more than you take away. I think Lyn agrees. Is there anything you're not doing now that might help our dear Mother Earth? "I'm thinking. I'm thinking." "An answer please, Annie." "My focus is people. I write about things that might get my readers to think about being more aware of threats facing precious children, the importance of getting professional help for depression and other mental illness, the damage done by prejudice and discrimination to the lives of fellow earth-citizens, the importance of equality to all persons regardless of race or other differences, and other ways human beings can live without hurting other people. Good people with caring attitudes don't harm Mother Earth. "At the same time, I recycle, have quit using harmful fertilizers and aerosols, keep my car tuned to avoid harmful stuff from the exhaust pipe into the atmosphere, use paper in lieu of plastic as often as humanly possible, and I plant beautiful flowers. Right now, my front yard display gives moments of pleasure to folks who walk or drive by; often they stop to tell me how refreshing a blessing the moments of seeing such beauty is to them. I think that blesses Mother Earth." "Anything to add?" "I wish governments of the world would take more initiative in caring for the environment, especially water and air." "Me too." Curiosity The curious child wondered While caressing the shapely leaf of the maple, "What's inside this pretty green leaf? What makes it grow? What makes it fall?" The curious child wondered As she held the leaf up toward the sun, "Does the sun tell you to grow and fall? Does the rain help you live? Does God help?" The curious child wondered, Then she rushed over the grass to the house. "Daddy, what makes a tree grow And cover its limbs with leaves like this?" The curious child wondered And the wise father thought a while. "My precious little girl, the tree's like you; God helps you grow and puts leaves on trees." The curious child wondered And curiosity grew until she understood. "God created everything, me and the tree, The twigs and leaves, everything perfectly." |
Prompt: What are you IRRATIONAL about? "Hey, Annie, what makes you irrational or unreasonable, illogical, foolish, crazy, ridiculous, absurd, or silly?" "You're kidding. I would never choose to be irrational or any of those other things you asked about? Why would anyone want to be that way about anything?" "Annie, I'm just asking, What are you irrational about?" "I can't answer that. I'm sure I've never been unreasonable about anything in all my 75 years. Why would I want to go around being crazy and silly? Not me, Never!" "Annie, everyone gets a bit unreasonable once in a while. You're human, so what's your answer?" "Tell Lyn I'm too perfect to be irrational. I never lose my 'cool' and am always even-tempered." "Truth, Annie, haven't you 'lost it' at one time in your 75 years. Truth time, even if it's embarrassing. Come on now." "Well, maybe I was irrational and a bit crazy the day I was just young enough I still had three children at home, was a single mom and couldn't afford to lose my job at a Catholic medical center where being homosexual was cause for termination. I did act irrationally that day, and for a damn good reason." "Wow! That sounds serious. Tell me more." "I knew deep within my being that I was a lesbian, but feared what would happen if I ever mentioned my thoughts to anyone. It was in the 1970's, long before it was safe to acknowledge being gay, especially at a religious-governed workplace. "One day while walking with a good friend, a liberal who did not have fear and prejudice toward gays, asked me, "Ann, if you're a lesbian, I want you to know it makes no difference to me." " I was stunned and asked, "Why do you ask that? I'm not a lesbian. Who says I am?" She responded, "Carel Crawford's been telling everyone that you're a lesbian." I was furious at Carel, the wife of a Nazarene minister who was always critical of people and was a gossiper. "I went straight to Carel, and before our conversation ended, I yelled my anger at her for her dreaded gossip, then went to my office, and slammed a glass framed picture to the floor. Shortly after, I was called to the office by the CEO and reprimanded for my outburst. "He then called her in and put her on administrative leave; two weeks later she was fired because there was a policy against gossip. He called me in, told me she was fired, and said, "Even if you are lesbian, which you say you are not, I'll not be making any decision on that matter. "I knew it was my right to keep my thoughts about myself within my own heart until the day came when I turned sixty and had no children or grandson whom I was custody for, living with me. And I did come out as lesbian, on my on terms in my own time." "Annie, you had every reason to be irrational. I can imagine the fear and concern you had. I'm glad you're out and proud to live the way God made your heart. Back then it was too dangerous to be out as gay." "Thanks, my friend, you do understand." |
| 509: April 11, 2014: Prompt:: What is your favorite Holiday or celebration? Why? "Hey, Annie. What holidays do you celebrate?" "Well, it's like this, I'm 75 and my family lives far from me. So I don't celebrate any day more than all the others except one: I celebrate my sweet Molly's birthday every March 30. People don't send Christmas cards any more so I never know which address is up to date. That's why I don't celebrate Christmas; there's nobody to celebrate with." "That's a shame, Annie. Don't you have something to celebrate sometime?" "Listen, my dear friend, I celebrate every single day because life is worth celebrating every day. I'm so happy at 75 with good health and someone to love and pets of many varities who give me joy, especially the pet turkey T-Bird who gives me something to giggle about every day. I'm happy with life and try to celebrate it every day." "Annie, that's wonderful. It's very important to cherish every day." "I know, and I do. Life is the greatest gift of all and worth celebrating every day with expectation of what good things tomorrow will bring." "Amen. Annie, I'm proud of you." |
| Prompt:What city has the most beautiful architecture? What makes it attractive to you? "Annie, do you travel? What city has the most beautiful architecture?" "I don't travel much nor do I focus on architecture. Even so, I think WashingtonD.C. is the most beautiful place in the world with all the historical places "owned by the people of this great country". The Capitol Building is so amazing. Anyone who has ever stood on the floor below the gorgeous dome and looked upward, feels like the top of the dome is a mile away. It is awesome.' "What are your favorite places there? Have you ever been there?" I was there long ago. It was back in the early 1960's so I know it's changed a lot in over fifty years. Like I said, I haven't traveled much. The many patriotic constructions all around the City commemorate significant historical events. I saw many and was touched long before the Vietnam Memorial, The Korean War memorial, the World War II Memorial which my father helped to win. I'd love to see the Memorial to Martin Luther King; I know it would be an emotional experience to read his words again. the Lincoln Memorial in all it's perfection causes the seer to feel deep emotion of love for him and for every person who has helped to share liberty with the citizens of this country." "What are the places you'd like to see now?" "The Congressional Library, The Holocaust Memorial, and similar architecture is wonderful and the information inside is powerful. Yes, there is only one place where i would like to see the architecture before I leave this old world: The City of Washington, D.C." |
| Day 505: April 7, 2014 Prompt Day 505: April 7, 2014 is No Housework Day. This is the day to do anything except housework. What do you do in place of housework? "Hey Annie, what do you do on a day of no housework?" "Easy question. I make my choice based on the weather. During cold days and all winter, I write while spending my time with writing.com. During warm days of summer, I love working outdoors where I have large flower beds out front and in the back yard. "That sounds wonderful, Annie. Tell me about your flowers." "Right now I have more than a thousand, yes I counted, tulips which are enjoyed by folks who walk or drive by. Sometimes the driver will stop to tell me how much he enjoys my flowers all season. I always tell those who stop to admire and tell me their words of appreciation, "If there's a plant you want, I'm happy to give you roots or cuttings." Many do want them. I've learned that all tulips, regardless of the hybrid, will eventually turn either yellow or red if left in the ground year after year to multiply. So, now all my tulips are colors from red to orange to yellow, and they look wonderful." "Sounds brilliant, Annie! I'm asking, why did you decide on flowers?" "Well, you see when I moved to this street ten years ago, there was only one flower garden on our two blocks; all other yards were green shrubs and grass...boring. I developed a colorful flowerbed between the sidewalk and the street. The next year, my neighbor did the same. Now, almost all the yards have an array of colorful blooms. As a writer, I received $250 for my story of developing my flower garden in as gardening publication." "Wow! That's terrific. More gardeners should write about their gardens, but when do you find time to write?" "In winter's days when I hat being outdoors. I have begun to hate being out in the cold weather so this year it's April and I still haven't worked outside. We have rain at least five days a week so it's just to cold. I think my attitude has something to do with my inner thermometer's changing with having turned seventy-five. I'm looking forward to a warm Oregon summer." "Good for you, Annie. Surely age doesn't have anything to do with it. Do you ever criticize the weather?" "I never criticize "it's too hot today" but I'm always one to say, "It's just too cold today." I always criticize 'housework' and never criticize 'gardening' in the dirt. I guess it's because housework has to be done over and over and over and over; gardening tasks change weekly." "I agree, Annie. Housework is never really finished." ann |
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