A terminal for all blogs coming in or going out. A view into my life.
Started July 1st 2019 for contests, etc. as other blogs are filling up and have other purposes. |
I'm starting a new blog because
I'll be linking to
I love to be prodded (poetically). I'll be trying on new forms to see whether they fit my portliness at The Ultimate Poetry Challenge and posting them in:
|Yesterday was February 29th - Leap Day! The reason we have this monthly extension of our shortest month is to synchronise the Gregorian calendar with the solar year – without it we would lose six hours every year. *Shock2* In your entry today, write about the phenomenon of leap years and any facts you want to share. Here’s mine: People born on Leap Day are called Leaplings. *Laugh* Do you know any Leaplings? How did you spend the bonus hours of 2020? Did you make the most of them?
I won't be able to blog every day. Some prompts will leave me gasping for breath. Others like today... will lead me to read you-all's blogs and comment.
To Apondia : "The Baha'i calendar has 19 months of 19 days... with 4 or 5 extra days depending on the year. So... yeah... which planet had Hobbits and when. Earth may have had a slightly longer or shorter year in the distant past. Same with day-length.
Glad you enjoyed the snow. So many people get annoyed by weather... as if their opinion counts! "
To Charlie 🌈 : "I will not post every day. Blogging will fall by the wayside if my travels go belly-up. So, it won't be a 'blue' month. But then again, I'm stressed out right now and blogging... so...
It will be nice to read an occasional blog from you.
Olympics and Presidential elections... Order me a Caesar salad. Put it on Julius' tab.
I'm sure I've met a leapling. Prolly more than one. Some of us have inconvenient birthdays, like my friend Merry, born December 25th."
SandraLynn 's father-in-law is a leapling: "Very interesting portrait you've painted about Bob.
If you were to sit down and interview him I'm certain you could write down some stories. I do wonder what his motivation was each step of the way.
Since 22 is my favorite number... Happy Birthday, Bob! "
To Chris Breva, M. Div. soon : "Yep. Just another day.
Mine was spent going to the post-office, bank atm to check my account balances, doing a wash, stressing about my impending trip. Good times? Nah, just chores that needed to be done. Today? Even remembered to pay the rent.
I don't watch wrestling and without a television rarely watch anything at all."
Bobturn posted a link to a disturbing story he wrote about an aging leapling:
I responded: "Not fair, I call-out, not fair!
I love quirky prompts. You handled this one well.
I'm old, but as you are well aware... we vampires never tell our true age. We have leap decades (when we go to sleep and don't set the alarm...)."
|Barbara died on the 29th of February ... 6 cycles ago?
Friends were there with her. She had a husband, cancer, two children. Peaceful to let someone go her friends said.
29ths ... every Gregorian calendar month has one. Does the day ever get respect other than in a chilly northern-winter month that's short for no common-sense reason. Couldn't January and March be a bit more generous?
But in the North, January holds on tight to its bitterness and its parsimony crammed deep in empty pockets. And March is so enamored with False Spring it quite forgets...
With it's daffodils and pink-blue-yellow bunnies, and parades mourning a long-dead Guy. Who held His hand while He was dying?
Evening of April 29th: a day of Glory in the month of Glory. I was suicidal. Having lost my job and health-insurance I went off Paxil ... cold. Not bright.
Being told that maybe I should let go of a friend was more than I could handle. I would eventually lose most everything but him. We talked this week as we have for 17 years. It's been that long since last I saw him.
But that evening... so depressed. Thank God for Adam and Carol and Jan. Did I ever tell them how much they meant to me that day?
But Barbara... what did she lose? Other than her life. It was Ayyám-i-Há, as it is every 29th of February. A day of celebration (there are 4 or 5 in total) and preparation for the Bahá’í Fast.
I used to have parties to bring people together and give them gifts... looking back... well... the effort is what counts! I tried. Every year I tried. Even at my job place. My last day there... I had published a book of poetry. Silly poetry, but it was something to give them.
I don't do much giving anymore. But I should. People don't need to know why. Not-their-business. Should've done something this year. Too late. I really don't have the time. Maybe a random day when I get back from my travels come May? After-all, May is my favorite month.
May 29th... no memories stand out. June, July, August?
Perhaps February is short just to show the number 29 some respect... every 4 years.
|I commented on the blog of ⭐Princette♥Pengthulu (her mother lives far away and has an ulcer):
"My mother is 97; she lives near where I grew up, where my sister still lives, in a town I can't emotionally visit.
I can't die yet. It would kill her. That said, I live alone (no spouse, no dog) with 42 steps. If I get ill and then they send me home (possibly too early) there is no one. Yet, I'm sure someone will help me.
Sounds awful but this has been on my mind, sorry.
Enjoy Rhay. Enjoy your pet crabs. Call your mother and send her my love."
Not exactly a cheerful comment. Should I have sent it? I'm not the type of perky person who starts singing happy songs to drown out sorrow. I wallow in it, cry until the well-of-tears runs dry.
She has a mother. She's concerned. I have a mother. I'm concerned (but mostly about me; at age 97 my mother has outlived herself!).
Like this poem... do I cry for myself?
"Spring and Fall"
for a young child
Márgarét, áre you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leáves like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! ás the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It ís the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) was a dreary individual. We share much in common.
So... yeah the coronavirus has me shaken. One way to approach it is to avoid close contact with people.
1. I live in two rooms by myself (a plus unless I need help) with shared toilets and showers (fine, but a minus when there's illness).
2. When I travel I stay in hostels with shared dormitories (a definite negative) with shared toilets and showers (a minus like at home).
I'm vulnerable either way.
If I get ill at home or abroad how do I isolate myself? I think I'd be safer in a place like Taiwan... but elsewhere? And here? They're going to put me up in a hotel room or hospital room/ward?
Dial the Diamond Princess and reserve me a room.
So... I'm on edge. My nerves are shot. I need to call Delta and I can't... but must. I want to cancel, delay, shorten or in some way revise my 9 week trip to Europe. My fears of being ill with nowhere to stay or nowhere I can afford or being caught on the wrong side of a border aren't totally unfounded. Years of survival ... my alarms are going off.
Plus I just sneezed. (No problem, I'm not sick. I'm fine, but every small ache and pain becomes magnified beyond its meaning)
|It's 16:30 and I'm too tired to blog because it's midnight in Europe and my body thinks it's there and doesn't care that I'm here.
26th ... my sister was due to be born. She waited until the 27th.
26th ... my father was taken to the hospital and died later that day, age 82.
Today is also the first day of Ayyám-i-Há for all my Baháʼí friends. I used to have parties and give gifts ... way-back-when. My personal world is smaller and different now.
What should I discuss about being frugal and traveling in a series of blogs?
1. Frugality. What you need and not what you want. Finding ways to live beneath your means. How can I do it and why.
2. Passion as a need. Finding one's passion... or better... recognizing it! Pursuing it.
3. How to travel frugally and still enjoy it. How to fill a day with joy instead of merely chasing it.
4. Know yourself, but be prepared to compromise. Flexibility and the ability to adapt are virtues.
Well ... that's a beginning to be expanded on over the next 4 days.
And ... it's still winter in Montana but I saw crocuses in bloom today.
|🌸 PWheeler has a blog on frugality: "Frooglewoods, Frugality and Makeup"
My spacebook friends want me to share how I save so I can travel so much.
Where to start...
My life seems to have had various stages:
1. I was poor or penniless or ... it didn't matter. I was totally dependent.
1b. I became independent ... kinda, but still poor. And ultimately became dependent again.
2. I worked. I was independent ... was I? In this stage I was able to help others. I did save but with help bought a house and didn't bother saving. I wasn't good with money and over-extended myself. One bump and oops ...
2b. I was homeless and very dependent on the kindness of others. I was very poor, at times penniless. The transition out of homelessness was bumpy. I was afraid to spend money. I hoarded it. Even after I moved to Montana.
3. I stopped helping others. Still hurts a bit because I believe generosity is a virtue; but I no longer trusted anyone. I decided to invest in me. What was my passion and what stood in the way?
I had started writing poetry before everything hit-the-fan. I started a journal when I was homeless-lite, started my blog when I was homeless-heavy. Still continue with both, but not successfully.
Why? Why me? I need to sit with this ... not everything I see in the mirror is pretty. And frankly, I'm not sure I know the truth. will seeking the truth trigger the traumas? Do I have anyone to support me when I sit here shaking? No.
I will write about "today", looking back at the last 11 years ... when I began to travel.
I will post in installments.
|I have bought day old bread for years.
The owners of Le Petit Outre have decided to only sell "fresh baked goods".
I kept my peace.
Fresh is $4; so I saved $2. Not much?
When the Senior Center upped its lunch price from $4 to $5 that $20 monthly increase wiped out my Social Security cost-of-living increase. No one cared.
Do I sound whiny? After-all, I travel and that means I'm rich!
I can travel because I'm willing to eat day-old-bread.
I manage better on limited income than many who live the "American Dream" of house, car, new clothes, eating-out and fancy entertainment.
So... things end.
I should be thankful. I'm surrounded by used books, second hand clothes, cast-me-downs, on-sale pasta and canned soups.
And photos of my trips and memories.
Free verse for "My Word": "Offspring of Oblivion (16 lines free verse)"
For 24 syllables: "All hail the coming elections" and "Seabird (24 syllables)" . The challenge/contest is going on hiatus.
A political entry in O Pinions: "A sip of coronavirus anyone?"
|In a short blog offering "Getting It Write" , Robert Waltz writes about rules... and breaking them.
I responded: "Yes, Virginia, there are rules. But write first... always write."
And YES, I broke the 'rules' for the "24 Syllables" poetry challenge... Yes, I stuck to 24 syllables; yes, it uses poetic devices. Unfortunately, the daily word prompt (which must be included) was "attributes" and not "attitude".
One could have a discussion about what attributes are being revealed though...
"Clover Middle School Teachers' Lounge "
In any case, it was fun to write. And making mistakes isn't always bad.
|I commented regarding hullabaloo22 's entry on female empowerment [edited]:
It [female empowerment] has been done many places in the world... since the beginning [of] time.
Beloved women ran Cherokee villages. Even now a Mohawk warrior who will stand up to armed state police fears a clan mother.
Women run many businesses in Taiwan and their female president, Tsai Ing-wen, was re-elected February 11th.
Nations as diverse as Rwanda (61 & 38%), Mexico, Bolivia and Spain have percentages over 40 and even 50 of women in government.
Appearance... very important for young people, both male and female, in Costa Rica. Japanese girls (tourists in Taiwan) seem extremely self-conscious. But so are cookie-cutter American cheerleaders. [Definitely a cultural and consumerism issue].
Models are so much more diverse these days. Look at magazines from 1950 if you question this.
Fear? There are many countries where it is perfectly safe for men and women to go out at any hour of the day. Montana only seems that way but Taiwan, Japan, Portugal, Kosovo? No prob.
All anyone, including me and you, can do is work on these issues locally. That's where any needed change begins. Some parts of the world are light years ahead.
[Look to them for inspiration and guidance.]
|Just another travel day. In Narita (Japan) for my flight to Portland.
A kind stranger helped me through security... story later.
Update: Now in Salt Lake waiting for my last flight.
Earlier: young (Taiwanese?) woman tried to help me connect to internet while I was going through security in Narita. I didn't have a boarding pass because ANA doesn't issue Delta flight info and Delta doesn't have a service counter in Taipei (Korean and China do... should have checked). Finally, managed to get info regarding flights to show up on my tablet. That apparently was enough. But... it's tense transferring without proper papers.
A small concern here as my flight home was overbooked. But I'm good.
|Just responses today. I really want to go somewhere... but I need to pack. I leave for home tomorrow.
Update: chromebook froze and it took forever to check-in for my flight and un-freeze this %&*@ thing.
To 🌸 PWheeler : I don't get to determine whether people tear me down; that's really on them. It's one reason why I don't associate with some people anymore.
But, as you said, I get to chose my response. Or do I? Being a mountain is one way of expressing resistance to opposition, becoming an ocean and absorbing would be another. Me? Like a dandelion I set my seeds to the wind and have bloomed elsewhere.
We each must find a path forward.
To charitykountz: 2 years... I was homeless for 4: one "light", two "heavy", one "light". I usually only count the 2 heavy years... but truly? The scars still remain. I try not to pick at the scabs.
It seems like a dream (or nightmare) now since so much time has passed. It may be time to reread my journal and blog from that time.
When I was no longer homeless it took a year to adjust. I didn't go back to where/what/who. I moved to Montana. Told everyone I was a writer (well, I was!) and started to travel.
I write this from Taiwan.
Life goes forward.
Your's will too.