Musings on Masks #notreallyontopic#maskisametaphor#mybrainhurts

What are your mass holdings? And what are they worth?

travels without fiona (the dog)

When I wear a mask, I’m operating under two premises.I’m protecting you by covering my face in case I’m contagious.Also, in my heart, I feel safer from you in case you sneeze in my face while exercising your God-given,Constitutional right to not wear a mask and risk my life.

One thing I think no one would argue (but I’m naive that way and of course someone will always argue): the issue about wearing or not wearing masks is really about something else.And that something else may vary from person to person.I’ve spent the last 6+ years moving around this country to various medical communities in an attempt to keep my husband alive.So, yeah, I wear a mask. You probably have a different reason. But I will say that it’s ugly the way people have gone crazy on social media about the mask issue.It hasn’t…

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In the middle of the COVID-19 chaos a friend posted a photo of his parents and mentioned his favorite dreams included talks with them. Still I did not expect or give it a second thought until the early morning hours. During a particularly long segment of “dream sleep” I was cast in the roll of “covid19 shopping” which included LOWES for supplies. I wandered quickly through the store loading my cart and successfully purchased said items (which I actually do not remember WHAT I thought I needed at Lowes) I left the store and loaded the items in my car…….ALL loaded but wait, where is my purse? My wallet, my keys? As I panic searched inside car LOandBehold my mom and dad drove up.

They offered to help by driving me back to Lowes…of course I know even at the moment (in the dream) I was already at Lowes, but you do things for your parents so I got in the back seat and dad and mom chatted away and reassured me that it would be ok. I settled back and waited for the car to stop and ran into the store….searching through the isles for my purse. (I am a very focused 😀dreamer) Things did not look quite right but I kept searching knowing mom and dad were waiting, so I ran back to the car to assure them so they could reassure me two or five more times. They were so cute and so patient, though I don’t think they understood my worries.

Anyway, it was the last trip back into the store that I realized they had taken me to “Harbor Freight” NOT Lowes. Don’t Judge…when I am awake I can mostly tell the difference. But NOT to upset my parents or tip them off to the opportunity to yell at me, thus changing the trajectory of this entire event, I chose to literally run from HF to Lowes. Harbor Freight which apparently was close but it did require some tricky climbing and a precipice that was challenging. I arrived at Lowes, located my car still in the loading zone, and concerned about a ticket decided to move it. NOT exactly sure how I started the car but I moved it into the handicapped parking using 4 of the 6 spaces. (clearly I qualified)

Here, even in the dream, I am confused because mom and dad were there still sitting in the car chatting away in Lowe’s parking lot. When I asked about it, they said they were there the entire time. It was exactly at this point I understood what was happening and why. So I had to make a difficult choice. To leave or stay. I honestly could have stayed and enjoyed those moments with my parents for days. They were patient and reassuring, and I have solved a thousand problems in my sleep only to wake up without the answer so I focused on all details of the dream. To the point I could transcribe them here.

What went right and what went wrong? But the details just did not make sense, and the more I tried to resolve the issue the more frustrating and distant a solution seemed. Not sure how long I struggled when I remembered what I knew all along.
I miss my parents, it’s a disconcerting time, I’m doing my best with what I can. It’s just that the unknowns are more difficult than what we know. AND this was a dream created by 67 years worth of “triggers” and I could and DID wake myself up. Just thought I would share.

Moral: REM sleep (dream sleep) is not restful I lost 2lbs. 🤗 Stay safe and well “wash your hands” 🥰

coping mechanisms

WHAT I lack in swiftness, I have gained in coping mechanisms.
Today I went for a short run outside. I still call it running because as far as I can see I’m the only 64-year-old female around here “running” It’s special when I can get outside and today’s run was not exceptional at first. I got to the corner on the first leg of my trip and then it was a long downhill and even with gravity assist, not an impressive pace. The second mile it just so happened there was a slow-moving station wagon heading in the same direction as me. The car stopped and a young man jumped out and ran between the houses on the street. I am curious and female so I was alert to what route I was on options, and the direction the man was heading. Wherever he went, not 10 seconds later he reappeared and ran back to the waiting car, climbed in and shut the door. Still, a few lots ahead of me and by now I had slowed my pace. Gravity was no longer my friend so under my own steam I was NO match for the young man’s rate of movement. My plan was to stay behind them, but somehow I still gained ground on the car so it was easier to see inside. Next to the guy on the passenger side were at least 2 others in the car. The driver, the runner, and one or 2 in the back seat. I know when you are alone being confident and keeping your head up is a good way to avoid being a victim…but that’s not a posture for runners. I just kept moving forward and slow thinking I did not want to turn my back on the vehicle. I was running faster than the car and I closed in at the back bumper, and the car slowed again and stopped just in front of me.

The window of the car was open…and the guy turned and look right at me with his right arm partially out the window. ..That’s when I saw he was holding something in his hand…He saw that I was behind and he pitched the thing towards the house directly in front of me…the “thing” turned out to be a newspaper and it landed squarely on the porch of the house to my right. The car sped up and 3 more houses got their morning paper as I kept my pace behind them. The danger passed I decided that it was a matter of time before I would be in the path of the free flying press so I hurried forward even with the car and in line with the guy tossing papers. As I swooshed by I looked in at the occupants smiling and said…”I don’t know if I can keep up with you…but I will try” They laughed but kept moving with their deliveries and did not adjust anymore to me. I finished running in my neighborhood crossing their paths 3 more times. Each time they spotted me they waved or made some remark of apparent encouragement or challenge. The last time the runner hollered from across the street and I told him I won because I was finished. I noted while I ran, when I saw them or a paper, each newspaper was delivered with pinpoint accuracy. Until next week.

#whenIm64 #TYMarkZuckerberg If you don’t have time for a Birthday story, the short version is, I am not upset about being 64. Considering advancement in medicine, technology, and my genetic makeup I statistically have a good chance of living to 100 years old so it really only leaves me 36 years (my original goal). I may need to kick it up a notch if I want to finish this on a high note but all things I’m OK with the status quo (related to my age). In the wee hours of April 20th I woke up to thunderous noise, clashing, and pounding and intermittent flashing lights. Immediately and fully awake and aware of the date and my age and still knew it was a spring storm, not a party. Later 2 tornado warnings had me peering out windows but it’s OK it was just me, I really don’t like surprises…at 64 if not custom or routine, there is NO reason to stun or astonish me, I prefer to leave shock and awe to the youth. I am counting on 100. ON the other hand as birthdays go, this number will take some getting used to. It doesn’t feel like it’s been 64 years; I should rephrase that..I FEEL 64, it just doesn’t seem like years. I could NOT have fathomed I would live this long so if I failed to list or document accomplishment it’s slightly disheartening. At 64 what I lack in successes I’m going with my global remark..capacity doesn’t always lead to achievement LOL…. “that’s my birthday story” but it ALL leads to the honorary mentions I enjoyed from everyone (via FB). They cut into my day perfectly, and so much fun reading them. Every post and greeting was a fresh Birthday smile… I don’t want to be sappy, but <3 thank you <3. And it was because of the Beatles that it's a milestone.


From peaceful and simple life, to structures over filled.Obtruded concrete streaming smoke, filling skies with things to choke.  Reckless lives, defiant stares; replaced the ease in breaths of air.What took away the passive views, and left these behind to amuse.   Filled with pride and useless rooms. Excesses tossed to less consumed.

Leave indulgence at the door; should we build them anymore?

No layers of leaves or untouched snows. Life moves in flickered glows.  Once useful homes NOW deprived; destroying precious countryside.  Accolades from restlessness; expects someone else to clear the mess.  It’s the wants that shaped descent! Out of which grows violence.

With regard to numbered days, crushed consciousness with yield.  Check influence at the door ; how can we do this anymore?  We’ve been busy with the lie, building homes in the sky.  Heroic efforts all in vain. Accumulations not sustained.

Some give up to save the ship; and lose the gains despite the grip.  Running circles and more to do. But less time and people too!  Educators seek to guide; so could our spirits then survive?  Check your life and what’s in store; we can NOT do this anymore.

We may want to quit the game of larger castles on the land.  Before our time for learning views, to put together useful tools.  Organize and comprehend; will bring back ease in lives again.  No matter what our money buys; earth wins when greedy dies.

Humble fragile lives believe; born with nothing, nothing leaves.

Leave the greed at the door; we should not do this anymore.


#Guns by rem hadley

I grew up around guns;  they hung openly on the wall (not locked or encased)  They were removed and returned many times in a week, month, year as I recall.  Guns were part of our life, used for hun…

Source: #Guns by rem hadley


Have you ever read “All Creatures Great and Small” by James Herriot ?   We lived in WI at the time my teenage son Derek came home from school with the book ( 8th or 9th grade I think)….and it sat on his desk for a week unmoved.   I did not mention I had read it when I asked if he was reading it?  His  “NO” was emphatic but the “not yet” was weak.      I was not a parent to censor what my kids were interested in and they showed good judgment so generally I watched  what they watched and read what they read especially if it was questionable.   So of course I needed clarity on the “not yet“.  

Derek said that his class was assigned the book…everyone had to read it.  He mumbled his lack of interest.  Still I didn’t tell him I had read it or try to persuade him to read the book.  Instead I said I heard it was good…though no apparent attitude change with that.  lol   So I persisted because it was for homework thus part of his grade.  Also I wanted Derek to read the book as those reciprocal discussions were something that I loved.   

  I knew Derek’s ethics , and I knew the book so I offered…”well….. IF you read JUST the first chapter this morning and still don’t want to finish it…then I’ll help you do your HW.”   Half hearted but he did agree.  Partly because he was a good student, and I knew he would do his homework but I think he knew he might as well get it over with.  Within the hour he got to it. Next thing I hear was his laughter. 

Derek laughs when something is funny…NOT just to be sociable.  In other words his demeanor to me was transparent.  Since I knew the laughter was genuine, and it was also my own reaction to what I read in the book.   I eventually ventured past his open door to confirm.   Several times in a stalking kind of way.  Confirmation that Derek was well past chapter 1.  I would have to say it was such a mix of pride and alarm.

 The pride:  I wasn’t sure he would like the book…but he made a deal and he stuck with it.  

The alarm: …well IF you have read All Creatures Great and Small  you know the contents are actually pretty racy in the animal world.

Derek did not apparently have any trouble grasping it’s content.  What’s your point rem??  There is not much more generic and unthreatening way to talk about reproduction to a teenager.  The actual conversations about the book (of life) are not as memorable to me as is the fact that it was most likely the first in depth and adult conversation I had with my son.  I may have faults…but my instinct for grasping the moment are exceptional. 

I’ve been running since late 80’s. 5 marathons and various other events…I’ve always exercised or taught fitness somehow…people liked to tell me I would wear out my knees or hips…or have a heart attack…Still it was too nice NOT to go for a run yesterday/Monday 10-12… SOOOO in the afternoon I took off on my usual route…on the bluff and through the park always staying close to the lake. Stopped back in at the house for some water after 3 miles…and headed back out for the last half…the wind had picked up whipping the leaves and scattering them in heaps along the sidewalks and curbs; it was a great run closing in on 5 miles about 10 blocks from home…the piles of leaves hid something of a heave in the sidewalk that caught my right foot and the rest of me continued forward. My knees hit first, then my hands and finally my chin, I jumped up from the ground checked my mobility and ran 10 blocks back to the house. At 62 I have had my first running injury…I broke my right middle finger and sprained the one on my left hand…I have a bruise about 4 inches on my jaw…and both knees are skinned and bruised….but ALL joints are in good working order. Here is the worst part…at my DRs office the questioner of the medical field I was required to answer. Was I drinking, did I get up too fast, is my home organized or cluttered, how was the lighting, do I have grab bars in my home…then suggestions on how I can prevent falls….eat healthy, wear rubber soled shoes, limit my use of alcohol, lose weight, be careful around pets…and my personal favorite…get more exercise to improve muscle strength and flexible joints. NO matter what my condition…really? 60+ years I wanted SOOOO bad to dare the entire staff to a plank challenge RANT over.

#Guns by rem hadley

I grew up around guns;  they hung openly on the wall (not locked or encased)  They were removed and returned many times in a week, month, the year as I recall.  Guns were part of our life, used for hunting, target shooting, and sometimes they served as comfort in our house in the country, far from neighbors where most times there was no means of help IF danger presented.  We were taught respect for the risk and the use of pistols, rifles, and shotguns.  Not one of 11 children viewed them as dangerous any more than a knife or fork when used properly.  

Dad worked late nights; so he did not get home until nearly midnight from his job at Pontiac Motors.  So the fact is; guns were also reassurance in the house as were the local police.  If anything alarmed my mom (or threatened her family) she was quick to call them up and asked that they check out the problem.  But there were no cell phones and we had a party line until the late nineties I think, so expedient help was not always available in rural areas.  Some situations escalate quickly in the country.  With only 2 local cops at the time who generally traveled together; well the problems sometimes needed to be handled and that is exactly what happened one night.  

I was shaken awake by my mother one night.  She said, “get up there is a man at the door that wouldn’t leave”.   She told me to get a gun.  Needless to say; I was at full awake and ran behind her to the wall rack.  I chose a shotgun and reached into the drawer for shotgun shells.  I grabbed as many as I could with my free hand and I crouched by the door near a window so I might see out to what (who) had frightened my mom.  I couldn’t hear the man’s part of the conversation clearly, but it was not raining, or did I hear comments about car trouble or problems, just that he was emphatic and persistently pleading his case.  Also, I did not recognize him (and in a small town and in a rural area that was unusual)  He was tall and big, especially when compared to my mom who barely cleared 60 inches. 

The part of the conversation I could hear was my mom talking to the man even with the main door closed and I assumed locked.  I was accustomed to hearing her tones and knowing what they meant.  Her manner did not match her tone.  Though her voice was definitely firm and calm the message of her body was uncharacteristically poised.  Her voice said “NO” but she showed fear.   I pulled the rifle closer and noted its position more conducive to use.   Mom told the man to go away or risk waking up the entire family, I knew for sure now that my dad was still not home.  And she added again, “NO” to what I thought was asking to come inside.  My sense of the time that elapsed was in hours but still, all I could do is wait poised for more information and maybe some “help”.

It had started to feel like a stalemate with no one changing their position; both he and my mom were as close as three feet, but separated by the slab of our wooden door.  I watched and listened alerted but not moving.  Thinking about what I had in time to react.  And knowing there was no real safety between the man and my mom except the lock and the door. 

From the window, I could also see car lights off in the distance maybe a half or three-quarters of a mile away is noticeable in the country, and it was closing in from the west.  I had no idea what time it was so I whispered abt the car lights thinking somehow it was an opportunity for help.  Mom appeared to relax and there was silence for some time; her head tilted and eyes squinted.  The car lights dropped from view as it came down the hill and into the valley before it would either turn north on Lake George Road or continue on the road straight towards our house.  The silence stopped; the man suddenly turned from the door and laughed and as the lights crested the hill I felt the relief that I saw in my mom.   Those movements away from the door occurred exactly the same time my mother’s posture change; though it was not related to the man, because she did not see what he did.  The change gave me insight that she also sensed help.  Her tone was no longer as firm or as calm and when she looked at me I saw she was relieved and almost in that same second I saw the flash of light illuminate the dark house from the car turned into our driveway.  Mom remained quiet…listening, and the man still stood on the front porch. 

The next sound was the door of the car slamming shut and then men’s voices.  Now my shoulders relaxed too, as I heard my dad’s laugh.  But that same sound actually seemed to confuse mom.  I had no idea what was going on but clearly, the need for a gun (still not loaded) had changed so I slipped it back into the wall case and the ammo back into the drawer.  Mom nodded reassurance and I went back to bed.  Though there was some loud discussion from my parents later just before I fell back to sleep, it wasn’t until the next day I heard…”the rest of the story.”