Next Question

Tell me what you think about some of the DR. Seuss books being taken off the shelves. The books that I learned to read from in elementary school called, Dick and Jane are also being taken off the shelves. I don’t know if all or part.

It seems to me that sooner or later, everything will be taken off the shelves because it may offend someone.

We are all equal, the Bible tells us so. Why does this have to keep going on and on?

https://www.cnn.com/2021/03/02/us/dr-seuss-books-cease-publication-trnd/index.html

Next Question

Tell me the silliest thing you ever did while sledding as a youngster?

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Be Thankful for Today

Even the dog doesn’t want to go out to do his business. Instead he prances at the door and then runs the other way when I turn the door handle.

Yes, this is that sort of day. I’m not going out. It is too darn cold.

See? I told you it was cold today! Yesterday, I decided to go outside and start my old clunker before this cold set in today. I did get it started. It was a slow start, but turned over. The snow was completely frozen. It was so bitter cold, that I only managed to scrape the windows and one side door. I just couldn’t take standing out in the wind.

Last night, my ear started hurting and today, I am doctoring it myself. I get earaches easily and thought I had my ears covered well, but maybe not. If it doesn’t get better by Friday, I will seek medical help.

I wouldn’t be able to get to the doctor today anyways. I am not chancing getting out. These are the days that it seems babies are born and unusual injuries happen.  I remember the Blizzard of 77 here in my town. A snowmobile had to bring me diapers for my son. I had run  out, so yes, today I am staying in.

I have been inside for this entire week for the most part. It is a time we can let ourselves become droopy if we let feelings get out of control. I can remember when school was dismissed at times when it was not scheduled. I was thrilled. I loved having my kids home. We just went with the flow kind of day. Today, it is just me. I tend to sleep more and remain in my P.J.’s more.

I used to feel bad about not jumping out of bed and guilty if I didn’t get dressed right away, but who really cares, but us, what we do inside our home on a frigid day. I can say that although m living area is not the ideal living situation for Senior Citizens; I am very thankful for the roof over my head today.

Cities surrounding me and my own town  have set-up facilities for the homeless because of the cold. It is so  hard for me to say or type the word homeless. We shouldn’t have this in our town. Warsaw is supposed to be the biggest Orthopedic Capital of the world, but as you can understand from my post, not everyone works at these companies.

The temperatures will be very close tomorrow as they are today. Friday we are supposed to rise to fifteen degrees. Hey! It’s above freezing! Monday we are supposed to climb to the upper forties.

I will finally be able to go back to my volunteer job plus I have an appointment with a medical place to get special shoes made for my feet. Hopefully this will help me.

So where ever you live, what ever the temperatures, no matter how long you have been trapped inside, remember, it could be worse. Be thankful for today. Tomorrow is not promised.

The Familiar Place

Last evening it was quiet. I did some of the things I wanted to get working on and then I went downstairs. The poem I just wrote is about what I thought and saw.

 

THE FAMILIAR PLACE

The Christmas lights glowed

Reflected on her tears

I felt the storm

Of thundering memories.

 

We aren’t really that close

I didn’t know what to say

I looked around for others

Not a shadow of a face.

 

I felt the tug in my heart

Requesting me to stay

I pulled my walker close

Locked my brakes and sat down.

 

Words flowed easily

From my mouth

I explained I felt her feelings

As I was living mine.

 

We shared so easily

Memories of our families

The empty seats at dinner

The place we live in now.

 

We spent about an hour

Like friends for ever more

We ended with some laughter

We then both went our own ways.

 

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

 

Seniors, Poverty and Why?

I was watching the news this morning. This is something I don’t do much anymore for exactly the reason I am going to blog about. The bad news out weighs the good news. It seems people really want to hear the negative or else why would the news be so popular.

 

The topic this morning affected my age group.

A) Seniors filing bankruptcy at a higher rate more now than ever♦

B) Rents raise for the poor♦

 

Why would Seniors file bankruptcy? In my parents era, there was a savings of several years hard work that helped when they retired. In today’s world, so many included benefits have been jerked away in order to save the companies money. The fall-out in 2010 did a lot of damage.

 

The co-pays on insurance have risen above being able to meet, forcing out- of- pockets to empty faster. Insurance companies seem to fight more on even paying what they should. Costs of medications, doctor appointments, and the outrageous prices being charged for inpatient hospital stays are absurd.

No wonder Seniors are struggling. They are forced to work for longer years before retiring and without the extra help government and retirement benefits would be given at the age of sixty-two, life becomes financially in a ruin. Sometimes bankruptcy is the only answer in order to be able to afford what has to be paid for.

 

Why would anyone charge the poor more money on rental properties and leave the moderate and rich alone? Is the secret name of the game to actually dismiss and rid the poor, leaving the fortunate ones to thrive?

 

I don’t  understand any of this. I know in my area and I also have mentioned this before in my other posts, I live in the Orthopedic Capital of the world. Is everyone in my area working at one of these fine manufacturing companies? No, they are not. It is easy to see that the rental prices of homes and apartments are skyrocketing here; but what about those who aren’t fortunate enough to work in these places?

 

Go back to school, further your education; is this your thought? It used to be mine too, but today, the cost of technical colleges and the bigger colleges is almost beyond our reach. The almost guaranteed job offer is not so much in our sight and of course that leaves us with paying those high college loans off. Some people are bettering themselves some, but the paying off those loans is for many years to come.

 

Landlords don’t keep the properties up to date because they would 1. like to keep the profit and 2. some can not afford the prices to do the updates.

 

It is a sad situation. I know for myself, I would love to have a little more freedom and less rules. I would love to have the inner fears removed that if I don’t do this or follow that rule; I am out of here.

 

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I know there are rules, but rules are changed without voting. Rules can be changed and worded differently day to day. What about having the choice to sit in your yard and have a cookout? This is not allowed here.

 

What about planting flowers? We have employees that do that here. We can watch the flowers grow, but what about helping make that happen? What about having the joy of sitting out under the picnic tables, under the shade trees? Taking our tea or coffee and chatting with others?

 

We have benches here and the benches sit under the sun. We have one patio table with four chairs, that I am not sure would hold me and this patio table is to be adequate for eighty-two apartments.

I don’t mean to sound like I am bitching. I truly am not. My thoughts on this are; hey, we made it to our Senior years. We worked hard. We helped our spouses. We fought in the war. We raised our children. We deserve to not live in fear wondering where our next home will be and where funding will come from and; can we afford it.

 

We don’t want to have to file bankruptcy. We worked hard our entire lives and never saw those big, heavy courtroom doors. Why now? Why would anyone want us to have to wait for our retirement? Why would they raise only the elderly and poor’s rents?

 

Perhaps it is true. People don’t want us around or people believe we are children in grown bodies and are pretty much worthless and just taking up space until death takes us.

Well, this is why I don’t watch too much news. It makes me sad. It makes me angry. What is going to happen to our grown children? Their time is coming. What can we do to help them when we can’t even help ourselves.

 

A Brain Trip

I sometimes wonder why my brain gets going at 100% as soon as I rise from my bed. I was using the ladies room and I was watching a video clip, mentally, of my brain. Sounds weird doesn’t it? I just decided to let it fly and see where it took me.

Thoughts of missing my brother came to mind first. Next I heard myself thanking God for a new day of opportunities. I realized I had a slight burning headache so asked for God’s healing.

I saw photos of going to my grandma’s  house. Today is Sunday, so my video clip involved all of us kids taking heaping fulls of food. My grandma was a terrific cook like most grandmas.

I saw my dad sitting at Zale drug store after church, drinking a cup of coffee with his buddies. The video clip switched to the present when I realized that discounted cut of beef needed to go in the crock pot right a way.

I saw my brain counting out the days until the next monthly pay check came in. I felt stress enter my head as I realized I need $59.00 for a new muffler on my car. It is broke and noisy and wondered where in the world the money was coming from.

I stopped the clip as I realized I had been from the 1960’s-present in less than five minutes. My mind goes a hundred miles per hour from waking to sleeping. I dream a lot but most of my dreams are nightmares with real people I know playing star parts.

I guess the nightmare thing comes from my neurological problems. Who knows, maybe the wild, crazy places my brain takes me to, is part of my illness too.

Well, time to wash my face, comb my hair and get dressed. The crock pot and the day is waiting for me.

Bring it up Front

I am a writer and I believe I think too much. Maybe this is what writers do; I am not sure. I find myself gazing at things around my room and something will catch my eye; and boom, I have a story to tell.

This happened this morning, in fact. I was sitting on my bed looking around at what I had left of my possessions that I truly cared for at heart. I looked at my low-boy dresser and suddenly was carried back to my youth.

I lived on a dead-end street in Warsaw, Indiana. Some of you from my city will probably remember the street; Oriole Lane. It was pretty close to the dead-end of the lane. We lived in a small house with a huge oak tree out front, that I can remember playing many times under with my dolls.

My brother and I would probably be looked down at now, or perhaps it would have been my parents that were looked at. I was 9-10 and he was 8-9 years old. We slept in the same bedroom in bunk beds. I slept on top and he had the bottom.

I had my dresser. In fact, I don’t remember any of my brother’s furniture. Maybe we shared the same dresser? I don’t know. Anyways, remember, I was staring at this dresser on my bed. I looked at the top drawer and then remembered one time my mom got really upset with me. Today, I don’t know why or understand. I think it was taboo or something.

I developed young. You know what I mean. That “special movie” hadn’t been presented in school yet and I think my mom didn’t expect something from me so young in age.

I got pretty scared and so when the evidence was seen with the naked eye; I hid all evidence. When my mom discovered it while putting clean clothes away; she found my items. She got angry and spouted off at me. Hey, I didn’t know what in the world was happening. For all I knew, I was dying.

Anyways, back to the presence, I laugh now as I think of that embarrassing moment in my young life. So many memories of my parents I savor today.

I am glad I am a thinker. I can revisit my memory box anytime I wish. I can bring it to the present and enjoy the times of being a kid.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd

Days of Yesterday

Summertime heat is what we in Indiana are experiencing lately. Today at lunch, the ladies I sit with were talking about when we were younger.

I told them when I graduated from high school, I had no doubt I could have been found down at the beach. I was free! No worries. I had a job, but it paid well back then and I just had to put gas in my car; so no money worries.

I loved the heat and I would put Iodine in my baby oil and lay out under that blistering sun all afternoon.

I was telling one of the ladies that back in March of this year when we had a few days of forty degree weather, I would see young  people out with shorts and sweatshirts on. I would look down at my own clothes and I would have a winter coat, boots and pants on.

They laughed as they said they did the same things. My, how times change. I still go out in the ninety degree weather, like today, but I don’t stay out long. I don’t put that swimsuit on. There is no baby oil. Instead I place that with a hat and I watch for my skin to start to turn red.

What is something you did when you were young that you absolutely don’t do today?

 

Bring Back What Was Once Mine

The sun goes down. Music is turned from the streets and now plays in your head. Dancing fireflies, wickedly spinning from cell to cell, creating new ideas that could possibly change your mindset.

You feel no pain but the ache in your heart becomes active and the smile you knew through the shining sun; now disappears, entering questions of darkness that no one seems to understand or see the answers.

You remember the exact spot where the big, brown dusty box with the rusty lid rest. You go to it and you stare at it as if you are trying to burn holes in the skin so you don’t actually touch what is inside.

Seeing nothing happening, you touch the brass handle and with two delicate hands, you pry open the lid. You raise it and listen to the squeak of the aged hinges. Being able to lift it no higher, it stands proud, inviting you to revisit what was once alive.

You scan as if you are taking an x-ray until you see the off-white, stained material. You pick it up and gently place it in your hands. You nuzzle it and press it close to your bosom. You walk over to the rickety, wood rocker and sit down.

The rocker moves to the music you are humming.  The words dance happily in your head and you skip back in time remembering what once was yours. The hour passed and it was almost too dark to see to return back to the reality of today. She gently lay her friend back in the spot she had retrieved it. She quietly lowered the lid and made her way back to the chair by the window.

Daily Prompt/One Word Prompt

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/evoke/

Evoke means; bring or recall to the conscious mind.

 

I called a few insurance companies the other day. I am trying to obtain a new auto policy because after six months with my current, they raised my payments 13.00 per month. Their thoughts when I questioned them was, “everything goes up.” Well, I hate to say it, but my pay per month didn’t rise one cent.

Anyways, I called this one number and as I waited for someone to answer on the other end, I took notice that I had called that number many, many times over my life time. If I changed the area code, the number was my grandparents phone throughout their marriage until death do us part.

Oh the good memories. So many, that it is hard to pick out a few spectacular ones. It being winter, I remember when my granddad took his tractor and with a heavy rope, he attached an old Ford truck hood. When this hood was placed upside down, it made a perfect sled to be pulling grandchildren down the isolated, country roads. I will never forget those times and can still hear the sounds of laughter in my ears.

As a grandchild, I helped pull hay bales onto the bed of a trailer. I ate warm cherry  pie with a big scoop of ice-cream on top. When fire did damage to the house I lived in; I slept in my grandma’s upstairs old bed. It was a spring bed that squeaked and sucked my body deep into the middle. I was wrapped with a vintage quilt that kept me warm all night long. I awoke to a chill and opened the stairway door, inviting me downstairs, because my first smells were fried bacon.

It didn’t matter what time of day or night; I could always go to my grandparents home and find big, fat sugar cookies or home-made potato salad. Along with plenty of good conversation and lots of love, I love my memories of those days.

Although, I called several insurance companies, I received zero good offers; but I do want to thank the insurance company who brought back to mind all wonderful memories, all because of one, single phone number.