It's All About the Journey

Today is your future. Live in the moment!


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Journal Update October 2018

I wonder and wander.  I worry.  All the signs of growing older, deep sigh.  I should be writing in a notebook, instead of complaining to my fans.  But maybe my fans feel the same way and I need to reach out and touch someone with these random thoughts.

I have felt better since I got back to my exercise regimen as well (thanks to eBay, I found the routine that they took off YouTube recently, leaving me high and dry and without a workout that helped my aching back).

Nothing like getting back to routine.  Coffee, notebook writing.  I read in a creative writing book that you should write 3 pages, even if you have nothing to say, keep writing, it will come out.  And it does.  Admittedly, I write every other line, sometimes large into two lines, like when I was a child.  Try it, it’s fun!

I also started a prayer book.  Bought this fantastic little blank journal that reminds me of prayer books of the Tudor queens, and it has been blank, now being slowly filled by me, with the prayers and thoughts of the Divine, and only that.  My traditional college bound lined notebook for normal everyday life.  I have a few prayer books, but they are little $1 notebooks.  It’s always good to review, choose a few, and add to the prayer book.

I digress.

I was scrolling through Facebook.  Ah, Facebook, that random, ever so shallow (my own opinion) social media giant.  I post things to sell, which never sell, I “like” and “love” and end up blocking (some things).  I follow all the recipes that I can never cook as they all contain heavy cream and sugar, things that I need to avoid!  And the politics!  I shudder.  It’s all about divide and conquer and separate us from the love of one another.  I found a post where they are stating the Holocaust never occurred.  Interestingly enough, I was just reading a book last night written by a man who was a mere boy in Hungary, and how no one believed the old man who escaped to tell them to get out, leave while they could.  The community ended up at Auschwitz.  He did not know he would never see his mother again.  His father’s eyes became empty.  I am halfway through this little book, a book of history, so we can learn that human life is valuable after all.

I hate war.  I think it is wrong.  So this really challenges me.  People die at the hands of others constantly.  It cannot be helped because there are crazy people in power and they have insane thoughts about who has the right to live, and who has the right to die.  Soldiers come back, if they come back, and have PTSD (or shell shock they used to call it).  We don’t take care of them.  It’s completely mind boggling.  They kill either themselves or others and sometimes (mostly?) both.

Back to history.  I think we need to leave the books alone.  Write others if you must, but  leave the recordings of the thoughts of others in tact.  They are the history of the human race.  One day most of us will be gone, and those picking up the pieces can find them, if they’ve not rotted away.

Completely different subject but I’m addressing it anyway in my random thoughts.  Plastic.  Get rid of it.  I had a couple of red peppers and put them in a plastic bag to transport home and forgot them.  Next day they had already started to rot as they could not breathe.  They make paper bags out of specially grown paper trees.  Let’s use them!  Or get cloth bags, we have started our own collection of cloth bags for this very purpose.  Meanwhile the garbage barges float in the ocean.  Who knows what chemicals flit through the air.

Me?  I need to go exercise now.  Thanks for reading.  Wouldn’t it be great if all my fans would like this page, comment, and comment well so I can add your comments to this blog.

This old lady rambles!

 

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It’s Magic

Life is magical, don’t waste it.

Life is magical, work it out.

Embrace it. Don’t let it go. It’s all you’ve got. No one else can see it like you do. No one else can wave your wand.

Love it.


This Old House, cont’d

Remember this old house? Still working on it.

I cannot say “we,” but he has been working onward with this house. Walls have been stripped to the board, windows removed, flooring taken up. Electrical wiring (mostly) removed. Exterior siding and tin roof removed.

This has been an experience and a long walk down memory lane for this man. Perhaps just short of a spiritual experience as he tears down this childhood home, to prepare for our future.

I’d love to take this into the woods and become Thoreau. Wouldn’t you?


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For the Love of Music

Music touches the soul.  It calms the nerves, it brings and recalls tears of sorrow, tears of joy.  It releases love into the Spirit and into the air.

My soul needed a special touch, as I have been too busy with the horizontal to consider the vertical lately.  What was I to do?

I found a documentary this morning that appealed to me on YouTube.  John Philip Sousa.  I was introduced to Sousa through high school marching band, under the direction of Mr. Richard Herfort.  Band members struggled, while loved, The Thunderer, Trombones Triumphant, The Washington Post, and Stars and Stripes Forever.  I entered a wonderful trip down my own memory lane, while watching this fascinating documentary, a PBS production.  Memories of watching Ronald Demkee conduct the Allentown Band (and he was a marvelous part of this documentary), but the one that continues to choke me up, after close to 40 years ago, is my own memory of me and my husband in the audience, on a blanket, at the outdoor Mann Music Center of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Henry Mancini conducting The Stars and Stripes Forever.  Conductor Mancini went over and picked up the piccolo and played the solo.  I choke as I write, tears spring to my eyes, and I cannot speak without the catch in my throat.

This should be our theme, America.


To Wales, with Love

My third and his first, we have made our first trip in retirement.

This stop, Wales, UK. Britain. The language was exciting, inspiring.

The lambs were adorable, they would jump and frolic, just like cartoon characters of my childhood!

The history was incredible, from Roman, to Medieval, Tudor and 18th century to today,

living the life of Matthews Street and the British Invasion revolution of innocent days when we were young.

The food and coffee houses were fantastic and the cuisine delicious!

And a little bit of wondering (just for fun, of course!)

But most of all, Wales was about people. People who connected with us on a daily basis. People we were introduced to, who welcomed us and made us feel special, but also accepted. For you I am truly grateful.

To David and Judith Rowe, we thank you from the depths within our hearts! To those you introduced us too, they made our trip a very welcome one to the country, Wales.

My heart belongs to you. I leave you to fly back to my home, but with a cushion around my heart, and my Daniel Owens book tucked in my bag, until next time.

Love, Kathleen


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Stuck in the 60s Tonight

I got stuck in the 60s tonight. I watched one of my favorites: The Newlywed Game. All of them. On YouTube. I admired the bride’s hair: the big beehive ‘do. The mascara and eye shadow. The California lifestyle.

Do you remember that game? We would play it by the hour. You’d draw a chart, naming your choices of places to live, boys’ names (to marry), a car to drive and a career. I cannot remember the counting formula, perhaps one of my readers can. Anyway, count away and you’d find your destiny.

I think I always had choices of California, Florida, or … I don’t remember having any other! Maybe I chose Hawaii. But certainly not my home town.

I’m not sure of his profession, but it was the man’s profession, for sure.

I do not remember the rest. I’m sure a color and a car were significant.

I will always remember how I thought the best place in the world had to be California. I was definitely a California girl. In my dreams.

I’m 61. My dreams have changed. Oh sure, I have visited California. A Californian friend even stated that there is no other place in the world to live! But I do admit, i love my small village I returned to, I love my farm and I love (even more) my farmer, who makes life worthwhile and every day a priceless treasure! (Thank you, Ross).

Still, there is a little girl…and her little girl dreams….