October 12, 2020

10:55 a.m.

Happy Indigenous Peoples Day!

I never liked "Columbus Day". It never made sense to me that there was this huge celebration of the so-called discovery of a place where my ancestors had been living for hundreds of years. As I once said to my 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Fox, if there were people already here, how can they claim discovery?

Her answer was not acceptable, no matter how reasonable she tried to make it seem. The discovery was by "civilized" people, she explained. 

I liked Mrs. Fox, so I kept my smart-ass 7-year-old mouth shut. It never paid to argue with old women who weren't related to you. Well, it didn't pay to argue with the ones who were related, either, but they had to continue to like you, because you were family. 

I wanted Mrs. Fox to keep liking me. She was my teacher, but she was also my friend.

My argument would have been that the people who came to this land were not civilized. They were the savages. They ravaged the land, raped and pillaged and destroyed. 

I haven't acknowledged the day since I was a child, and that was long before I knew I was an actual Native of this land. I had anecdotal knowledge, but it has since been verified by DNA. 

Oddly, I was often that person who held her tongue to avoid arguments that couldn't be won, but the older I get, the less inclined I am to keep my mouth shut.

I like that it has finally been addressed and there's been a name change for the day. I just wish it would be accepted in all circles once and for all. 

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11:34 a.m.

I feel like I should address the five months that passed by since my last post here. 

I have another blog at Penz-O-Paula where I post mostly short fiction stories, and it has kept me occupied and distracted through the most horrible of years. 

Reality in 2020 is worse than the horror stories, worse than the apocalyptic tales. Definitely stranger than fiction. 

Starting in May, it became a nightmare around here. I'm still not ready to talk about it much. Suffice to say that things which were bad enough already were made so VERY much worse by this pandemic, and knowing that things never had to get to this point makes me even more upset than I would have been in normal circumstances.  

I was finishing up a book in the early part of the year, and the manuscript is currently sitting there, curser blinking, waiting for me to get back to it. I will; it might take me a while, though. It was all sort of wrapped up with Dad. We talked a bit about it, and although he never remembered it, when we were in the middle of a talk, he had interesting things to add to it. So...it's hard. But I will finish!

(Now I have to!)

The fiction blog gets a lot of attention these days, because it is easier for me to deal with make-believe than reality. 

At some point, I will catch everyone up on the events of the last few months. There's a lot to unpack. 

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This afternoon we're headed to get Mom's hearing checked. I reckon they will turn up the volume in her hearing aides. 

I should get mine checked. Seriously, though, I only suffer from "selective" hearing. 

However, I am not as good as I used to be about blocking noise out. I have lost my "kids are noisy but not hurt so ignore it" mom filter. Dang. That was dead useful, and now it's broken. I have to restrain myself when I want to say "Shhhhhh! Old lady in the room!" Ha ha!

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It's October, so I have planned to go on a ghost hunt at the local haunted library. I want to see a ghost. My sister doesn't. So this should be FUN!

Trick or Treating will be an interesting prospect this year.

I am so tired of this pandemic. I want to go out and do things. People are, but I have my mother to think about, and I won't risk her health. Besides, my own health history means I am high risk, too. Doggone it. 

I have a lot to say about this subject, but I think I will skip it for now. No more negativity today. 

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Take a minute today to tell people you love them. Wash your hands. Wear your mask. Social Distance.

And have a great day! 

April 28, 2020
5:50 p.m.

How many days have passed by since New Years' Eve 2019? Don't worry, I'm not going to bother with counting them down, because it doesn't really matter. We have almost reached the 5th month of 2020, and I am considering the irony of my hopefulness in starting a new year, when 2019 had been a bit of a bitch.

Now, I rather long for the inane inconveniences of last year, don't you?

Whatever went wrong last year, at least I could visit with family members, take in a movie or go out to dinner. I could go on a trip. I could go to the library.

I have been out of the house once in the past 6 weeks, and that was for groceries. Whoop-dee-doo.

In a few days, I will begin a new decade of life. This strikes me as odd and unbelievable, particularly since it was once my fervid belief that I could never turn 40, and the year 2000 could never come to be. It was an insane notion. Science fiction. Never gonna happen.

But, of course, it did. Since I am currently still alive (to the best of my knowledge, but who can say for sure? Perhaps I am just a figment of my imagination) I did turn 40 and the year 2000 not only happened, but time continued to fly by.

Needless to say, 2020 was another year that seemed obscure and unimaginable to me. Sure, we made it to the 21st century, but how long could it last before we just--poof!--blew it all away?

Now, that question doesn't seem silly at all.

In the past few years, I have come to realize that the planet is populated with increasingly dumber beings. This surprised me. I thought with all the technological advances, people would get smarter. That doesn't seem to be the case.

Instead, I have watched, appalled, as gullibility has multiplied about a hundred-fold. If you spoon-feed the masses false information laced with just enough truth and as much candy-coating as they require to swallow it, people will eat it up by the truckloads.

Now, having said that, if I go no further, I can count on people from all sides of the spectrum to agree with me regarding the people on their opposite sides. Apparently, we all think we're right and everyone else is wrong. We're sane, and everyone else is crazy. We're smart, and everyone else is dumb.

I'm not excluding myself from this; I know I'm right, and sane and smart. So, there!

Enough people know me, know what I believe or don't believe, who I believe or don't believe, and what sort of choices I will make based on those beliefs. Other people don't have a clue, and I'm not going to enlightened or disillusion them of anything on this platform. What I think about things isn't the point of my little rant. My point is that I, myself, am disillusioned to learn that so many people I regarded as intelligent and sane have now proven to be completely off their rockers, and it makes me sad.

I am a consumer of literature, and as a consumer, I have devoured a ton of science and science fiction, a ton of fiction and non-fiction, a ton of conspiracies, spies and intrigue, murders and mysteries and mayhem, true crime and fantastical "perfect" crimes, drama and comedy, fantasy and horror. None of the nearly six decades of drinking in story after story after story prepared me for the dramedy/horror/crime/conspiracy/whatever the hell else that is today's so-called reality.

Honestly, even decades of television didn't prepare me for this. Of course, if there had been a show like The Walking Dead Meets Perry Mason in Peyton Place, I might have had a clue what awaited me in this century.

Do you get it? The Walking Dead is about a pandemic that eventually will turn everyone into a zombie. People rush to self-isolate, all while hoarding food and other products and fighting to the death for gasoline and toilet paper. In the meantime, the government is holding he said/she said and I didn't/he did trials in public, denying that anything is wrong, or that anything is happening, or that anything ever did happen, and Perry Mason points at the guilty party, but no one will believe him. In the meantime, everyone is sleeping with someone else's spouse, diddling the help and the kiddies, and pretending to be higher and mightier than the next guy, all while hoarding all the money and letting the poor fend for themselves, and...

Yeah, I don't want to watch THAT show.

But it's on every day, and we call it THE NEWS.

Ugh.

I think I'll go watch Star Trek and pretend it's 1966.  At least then everything went off the air for a while every night, and we could look forward to men on the moon.

Unless that's not true, either. Or it was really Mars. Or someone besides America got there first.

Sigh.



Author's note: this was previously published over five months ago. Things have certainly not improved since then, and have, in fact, gotten considerably worse. When I update stories, I like to have some sort of resolution. Sorry. 

April 15, 2020
2:23 p.m.

Kaylea and Wade with Tabitha and Rafe

Shayla and Journey

Molly

It's April, and that means it is time to celebrate all the April babies! These are some of mine, and I love them all. Happy April Birthdays!!
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Today would usually be tax day, but due to weird times, today is NOT tax day. Don't worry, it hasn't been cancelled, just postponed. The IRS will be happy to take your money soon.
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In other news, it is snowing. I am ready for this to be over. Sunshine and flowers, hurry up.
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Happy thoughts only. Happy thoughts.

Well, once again, it is the birthday month for all these cuties. Kaylea, Shayla, Journey, Wade and Molly--You are April diamonds. Shine on!


Y'all shine on, too!

April 13, 2020

It's Easter Monday, and ages since my last post.

I have been focusing on fiction this year, mostly because real life has gotten so very strange.

That said, some of the fiction I wrote last year seems like a bit of foreshadowing in these recent days. My book, Starting in the Middle of The End, focuses on a trio of little girls who are caught up in a dangerous situation and eventually moved to an underground hiding place during events that leave the world changed forever. Dystopian stuff, but now a bit weirder to me in light of things going on.

Last winter I wrote a short story featured in my book Scribbles: A Short Story Collection called A Little Cold, where things went a little sideways. It was written and in editing before the current situation hit the news.

Am I weird, or what?

Now, this current situation is something we need to be aware of, and we need to have good and reliable information going forward. I don't feel like we're getting that from the current Administration. Anyone who spends three quarters of each interview making excuses and placing blame and calling people names is not someone I have any faith in.

As I write, I am listening to yet another press conference, and feeling very much like I might puke on my shoes. I have no trust anymore in what is going on in the country.

That said, I have been heartened by the response of Governor Jared Polis in Colorado. I feel that he was much more proactive than many, not including Cuomo in New York, and if everyone had done as they did, things might look better today.

Now they're talking about re-opening the economy. The Thingy announces that he has all the authority over all the states to do this, which is a lie. He says no one needs ventilators, things are doing better, everyone is getting all the ventilators they need.

The lies go on and on.

I feel a need to stay current and that need is in direct opposition to my need to filter the bullshit by turning everything off.

Sigh.

You can maybe see why I haven't posted much real-time commentary lately. It's depressing. Plus, I don't feel like arguing about it.

Hey, I plugged a couple of my books. Go get them and read. Escape for a while. Enjoy.
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Easter happened.

It didn't happen the way it usually does, and that makes me sad. We usually have a nice family dinner with everyone, but yesterday it was just Mom, Dad and me. Homemade soup, biscuits and fresh apple pie. It was delicious.

But, wow. It was lonely not being with everyone.

My reaction? Look at really old Easter photos. 

Ha ha. Check out my terrible fashion sense in that top photo. What on earth was I thinking? I'm sad to report that my fashion choices haven't much improved over the years.

Anyway, Happy Easter to all. 

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My New Year's resolution to write more is a bust, and I'm not going to repeat it here. I will try. I do write another blog, and it features mostly fiction. It's easier for me to cope with make-believe these days. You can read that at Penz-O-Paula. I hope you'll visit and follow me. 

In the meantime, please safe. Make sure you follow those Social Distancing guidelines. Wear a mask when you go out, but stay home as much as possible. Wash your hands. Wash them a lot. Wash them some more. 

January 13, 2020
12:52 p.m.

Birthday shout-outs are in order today. To all these January babies-- Leiah Joyce Sisson, Eliel Ibarra, Valerie Ibarra, Maggie & Xavier Amaya--Happy Birthday!!! Have a wonderful year, and a wonderful everything, and know that I love you!!

Valerie and Sam

Leiah

Jose, Carlitos, and Eliel

Megan, Mariah

Maggie, Santa and Xavier

No doubt there are more January birthdays, but I think I got all of them so far this month. 

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5:55 p.m.

I have this thing about New Years. January feels like the wrong time for me to start a new year. I am not crazy about January. It's cold. It gets dark too early. It's cold. The daylight doesn't last long enough to get anything done. And, damn it, it's cold. 

Now, all my snow loving buddies are going to get me over this. Hey, buddies! Enjoy your ski trip. Don't break anything, have fun, drink some cocoa for me in the lodge. Good on you! January is all yours, with my blessing. 

I don't know who decided that January 1st should mark the beginning of a new year. Why not April 1st, when new growth is happening? Flowers are making their first appearances, trees are showing off new leaves, grass is getting green. That's NEW. In nature, this is about the time for new babies to make their debuts--calves, lambs, foals, deer, bunnies. Nature is smarter than we are--it knows when things are NEW. 

People, now... not too bright, are we, starting over in the dead of winter? That's when the only thing new is the strained back and the sprained ankle we got from shoveling snow and falling on the ice! 

I'm not really dissing January. Well, I am, because...brr! But no. I'm not. I'm dissing January as the beginning of a new year.  How can anything be new when a good portion of nature is actually sound asleep? Can't we start the year when the bears wake up? 

Of course, while Spring makes the most sense to me as the beginning of a new year, there is a part of me that still considers the first day of a new school year the real new year. Of course, I was that rare child who actually loved school and looked forward to day one every year. New grade, new teachers, new classes, new things to learn. Maybe new friends and sometimes even new schools! So exciting! 

As a parent, this was still my new year, getting the kids new clothes, shoes, school supplies. NEW. Starting over. 

January seems like the Wednesday of months, the hump you have to get over on the way to Friday, which I suppose is somewhere around June. 

Yup, I am not a big fan of January. I am currently one great big arthritic ache, and at some point in my life I may have to consider a warmer climate. 

It's cold. 

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I have spent most of the last year here in Wyoming, care taking. I've been trying to figure out the mail schedule, and I have to finally admit that there isn't one. It comes when it comes. I don't like checking the mail in the dark, but mostly that's what happens. The only days it comes early is when I am trying to mail something out. Then, even if I hit the mailbox by 10:00 a.m., the mail has been delivered. It's like someone knows....

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My parents have had the same telephone number since 1966. Every telemarketer in the entire world has it, and I think half of them have called today. Sheesh! 

Remember when our cell numbers were unlisted? I wish they still were. I have gotten so many calls lately. The one I get most is to remind me that the warranty on my car is about to expire.

I haven't owned a car since 2005. I think they're a little late, don't you? 

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Well, I am off! Stay warm, drink something hot, cover up, be cozy! 

Monday, January 6, 2020
5:18 p.m.

Happy New Year!

It's the 12th day of Christmas, and the wise men have finished their journey to the manger to pay their respects to Mary and welcome her son, Jesus, to the world.

In some areas of Mexico, children will fill their shoes with hay or grain for the camels and burros that carried the gifts to the newborn babe.

If you're here in the US, you can take down your Christmas tree.

The way I'm going, that tree might stay up all year. Ha ha. I like it. It's pretty. It's not going to die. It's cheery.
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I have been horrible about keeping this blog going in the past year. When I started it, I wanted it to be filled with family anecdotes and news and good, cheery thoughts.

2019 was not a cheery year.

Oh, I did post about family reunions and travels. We had some good times. We enjoyed our trips, saw pretty sights and spent time with great people, and I was happy to write about those things.

But, since I have been so determined not to write a bummer blog full of complaints and sadness and such, I found I had little to say in 2019.

You know, nothing bad happened directly to me in 2019. I have been housed and fed. I have clean clothes and shoes. I'm good.

But, as a mother, grandmother and daughter, I've experienced peripherally the pain my family has been going through.

Last year saw my daughters go through betrayal, abuse, stalking, robbery and vandalism.

My son has had several health issues.

My grandchildren have had to deal with the consequences of adults' bad choices.

My father is shrinking. I mean it. I feed him up all day, and he keeps losing weight, mostly muscle. He is in one stage or other of dementia, and I feel so helpless because I can't do anything about it.

I admit it. I'm a fixer. Present me with a problem, and I go to work trying to take care of it.

These things have been beyond me. No matter what, I can't change some things, and it really ticks me off.

I can't fix mean people, including but not limited to spouses, who think it's okay to treat my girls like crap. I mean, I could...but it might not be legal. I always said "Hurt my baby, and I will hurt you." Easier said than done. But I will help in all ways possible to get them away from the bullshit and on their feet.

I can't do anything to make my son's health improve faster than it is. And it is improving, so there's that. But it has not been fun knowing he hasn't felt his best.

I can't cure dementia. All I can do is continue to take care of Dad and hope things progress slowly and that he will always know who we are and how much we love him.

So, here I am in the first week of the New Year, bitching about the old one. I want to be hopeful that 2020 will be better, but if this past week is any indication, I'd be wasting my time.

Australia is on fire. Politics and the associated bull has divided our nation, and now we appear to be on the brink of a war that is largely a political ploy. We can't trust anyone; even the so-called Faithful have proven themselves to be seeking riches and attention on earth instead of storing up their riches in heaven.

Socially, we're walking backward. Fewer rights for women. Fewer rights for the disenfranchised. Fewer avenues of help for the poor and hungry.

What has happened?

Okay, so here's the terrible deal. This blog is called MeThinks, and these days, I don't always think positively. I will do my best to be cheery and optimistic, but in the coming year, you might see a few literal bitch-fests.

Feel free to chime in!

Let's try to have a happier new year. Hang in there!

September 23, 2019
12:07 p.m.

Over the last few years--probably since the beginning of the new millennium--I have become the photographic documentarian of the family. I have tried very hard to be present for special occasions; births, weddings, holidays and reunions have come to hold a special place in my heart, and I feel a need to leave some sort of memory footprint behind each one. 

The picture above is actually a rarity--my mother, me and my grandmother in a photograph together. The occasion was my own wedding day, but that's not relevant. What is relevant is the fact that there are not more photos like this.

Yes, I find pictures of my parents and grandparents all the time, but I'm not with them in very many of them. Part of the reason may be that I don't particularly like being the subject in a photo. I'd much rather be behind the camera. But the other reason is we didn't seem to feel it was important to leave those memory footprints behind when I was younger. There was always going to be another day, another opportunity to take a quick snapshot. 

I have so many memories of spending time with my grandparents, but very few photos to look at and see that we were actually there, together, spending quality time. I wish now that there were a lot more. 

I guess that's the reason I do take the time to pose for pictures with my children and grandchildren now, even when I'd rather be out of the shot and behind the lens. Someday, they may want to see some evidence that I was there with them. 

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4:07 p.m.

Speaking of photographs, I have spent hours now (not all in one day, mind you) looking for one particular photo. It's driving me nuts. 

And now, I found some photos from a 1991 reunion, and I know there are more, but do you think I can find those? Nope. They are probably scanned on my computer in Denver, which is dying a slow and noisy death. Thank heaven I have them backed up on another driver. Wherever that is.

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Since I have blabbed away about photos, can I just ask you readers, how do you manage your own photographs? Do you just maintain albums of prints and store your digitals on the cloud? Do you scan old photos and save them on a device or a DVD? Do you print your digital photos? Please let me know in the comments.

I'm off in search of the rest of those reunion photos. Wish me luck!

Until we meet again!