Undo/ The Daily Post




If you could un-invent something, what would it be? Discuss why, potential repercussions, or a possible alternative.

I know you are going to think I am crazy when I write this post, but I am a crazy gal. I like the word, FAMILY. Family to me represents the good up-bringing I had. The sitting down at the table together as a family; holding hands and one of us kids saying grace.

The routine of baths after dinner, homework and if we got finished in time we were allowed to watch TV with mom and dad. Bedtime came at the same moment Monday through Friday, and an hour later on weekends.

We had a routine. We always knew we could depend on our parents. We knew the rules of going to school and what our chores were on the weekends. Family, a strong unit, somewhat broken from technology of cell phones and computers.

Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if there were guidelines as there were when we were bring raised. Perhaps time limits on cell phone use and computer time. Not only do the kids today not go anywhere without their cell phones, most of them have computer technology on the phones.

I can’t begin to count the number of times I have entered a public establishment and notice zero smiles. I don’t see people looking up at me and with a nod of the head acknowledging my presence.

Kids, parents, adults, elderly, almost everyone has updated with the times. What happened though? The term, family, the eating, praying, talking together, the guidelines, chores, what happened to family? Without our even realizing it, we ever so quietly traded good habits into a phrase of it’s all about me.

This is sad, more young girls pregnant, elderly respect has been lost to the seas. Looking out for our neighbors has slipped right past us. Maybe it is the era I was brought up in. So for this prompt, I would undo the technology of cell phones and computers, if even for one day. Stand up and take notice. Drink that coffee with a  smile. Go outside and smell those flowers. Wave and say hello to your neighbor, just for one day.


Fly To The Angels

Little confused

Little weepy

Minutes turn to hours

Hours turn to days

Days turn to weeks

Nothing has changed

Yet all is different

Life is still living

Yet life feels so dead

Thoughts from the past

Are stuck in the head

Nothing I can do

No matter how I try

It’s all up to you

Whether you laugh or you cry

Life has a purpose

But I don’t know what it is

Lying here in bed

Time ticks by slowly

A dying man’s thoughts

Carry him to the end of time

Just waiting for a signal

A time for the change

A time to decide

Whether to cling or fly

Oh winter please hurry

And turn into Spring

Make me whole once again

Let me fly with the angels

And hear them sing.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd






Daily Prompt; Simply the Best

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/10/25/daily-prompt-culture/, DP, Daily Prompt

NASA is building a new Voyager spacecraft that will carry the best of modern human culture. What belongs onboard?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us CULTURE.

shuttle-ferry-atlantis_1199_600x450Putting aside all of the mechanical brilliance aside; I am looking on the inside of the capsule. Who and what is going to be making this adventure. Spending time together, not much room it needs to be a perfectly balanced scenario.

So in my thinking we need:


handsvegetablebottled waterBeautiful-UK-weather-_t2fePRAYER_2jesus_in_heaven.jpg

Weekly Writing Challenge; Living History

DP Challenge, DPrightnow, http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/10/14/writing-challenge-history/

What can you write about? It can be a conversation or a protest you took part in, or a recent development that made an impact (negative or positive) on your life. It can be something that happened in your town, or news from far away that moved you. The important thing is that it’s your story, your insight. Background detail is important, but what really matters is your voice, your opinion, your way of thrusting yourself, Forrest Gump-like, into the center of the news reel.

God bless America. Land that I love. Stand beside her and guide her through the night.

These are the words of our country. We show how proud we are of where we live.

But there is no perfect life. God never promised life would be easy. There really is no bed of roses. We are dreamers. We dream of a better land. We want our children to have it better than we did.

Have you ever really thought of those words that go around in our head? What was it that was so bad in our life that we have to give our kids something better? The way I look at it what our kids need is exactly what most of us got growing up, love.

I can’t say that every kid got this. Like I said, life is not perfect, but I can wish that all kids were treated with respect and love, nurtured into fine adults. We lived from the land. We grew our own meat, or before that we hunted for game. We fished from our waters.

We planted seeds. We tended to the fields with love and pride. We harvested and we had Thanksgiving with our entire family, giving thanks and realizing our blessings.

I don’t care what technology is waiting to be scooped up on your corner it can’t replace love. In fact, there are many kids in families today that spend their together time at the supper tables apart, either physically or mentally.

Kids spend so much of their time texting and no one today can leave home without their cell phones. Is it any wonder families drift apart. Friends don’t see each other as often. The mail boxes are empty?

Today, on the news here there was a prime example of a man who loved his country. He cherished his wife and kids. He worked the land. He was known as that one word that is becoming extinct to our younger generation. He was known as a farmer.

Today, God knew something we didn’t know. No one guessed it, but God knew this wonderful man was tired and needed a break. God used the love of this man’s hands with his own farm machinery  and formed an accident that took his life and sent him directly to heaven, into God’s arms.

It is tragic, it saddened me and I wept. The world is full of we must go here and we have to go there. We have to have this, we can’t be left out.

But for this man his time was up. A hero in our lands, a soul who denied the now world.

Today, he is with God looking down, smiling upon each of us. History played out over and over, starting with the forbidden fruit, that was grown in God’s ground with his own two hands.forbidden fruitharvester 2

A Joker’s Fool

I looked back

And I saw you

Following me

Laughing you

Stayed in my

Footsteps while

You thought you

Had me you

Were so wrong

For I have had

Many life lessons

And learned that

I am not the one

In charge but

My God he leadeth

Me into all


So I will

Never look back

Again nor shall

I see your silhouette

My eyes will

See no specks

For they will be clear

You had your chance

But a fool you were

To believe that you

Could possibly

Out smart  the almighty one

Now be on your way

Be seen no more

For I have the shield

Of Christ walking

By my side.

Written by

Terry Shepherd


Continuing Story Part 9

When the teacher arrived home, she was greeted by Dahlia still lying in her bed feeling

English: Old Dahlia

English: Old Dahlia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

sorry for herself. She tried to talk some sense into her, but the pity party was so deep that teacher could not get through the tightly, closed-door.

Teacher had led a life that had caused many tribulations, forcing her to face her problems or drown, and she saw in Dahlia, what she herself had been once upon a time. She made up her mind, that if Dahlia would not help herself, then she would help her for her.

She left Dahlia to herself and went into the living room, where she found her phone book and her address book. She went through them and wrote down names and phone numbers that may be able to help her. She began her journey of healing for Dahlia. She made call after call, scribbling out names who could be of no help, and making marks beside the ones who possibly could help in one way or another. She set up appointments with the ones who drew hope and for the next week she was being drawn into the circles of possibilities  for  Dahlia’s problems.

One by one through out the week, she visited her appointment. She spoke of her problems with her student, gave a little background, and jotted down notes from the words and advice given to her.

It was a tiring week, but by the end, she had names and phone numbers and addresses of the best. She knew that Dahlia was in trouble, but she also realized that without a swift kick of tough love, this girl could end up being a waste on this good earth.

Dahlia stayed mainly in her room, and when her stomach could take no more, she would wander to the kitchen and grab a bite to eat and take it back to her room. Each morning and night, the teacher would try to draw her out of her sadness and loss of self-worth, but Dahlia refused to be helped.

Teacher left her alone and went about her tasks of finding the best help she could afford and offer. She had three names, and called each of these and set appointments up and met with them all in three days.

One of them, told of a wonderful psychiatric hospital that could possible help with quite a bit of therapy offered. The teacher laughed this off, remembering what help had been offered to her own self and how she had fought it and went more into herself. The next person told of a school, that was very strict, what you and I would call a boot camp school today. The problem with this was that the school was almost an hour away, and she wasn’t sure how she would be able to visit Dahlia if she were to be placed there.

There were good things about it though. Careful eyes kept on each student. No nudging to do what was right, but a punishment if not doing what was ordered. Three meals a day. Teacher asked if an appointment could be set up for this school, and that if she could, she would bring Dahlia along, but there were no promises that she could get the girl to budge.

The call was made and the date set for arrival for a visit. The teacher left with a big thank-you being said, and a smile on her face, because she was certain she had found the solution to this.

When she arrived home, she went and checked on Dahlia, whom she found sitting on her bed, uncovered, and actually dressed, and was gazing toward the warmth of the window. She told the student that she had some information that she wanted to introduce to her and that she expected her in the living room or kitchen where they would go over it. Dahlia glanced her way as she heard the words, but said nothing.

The teacher left her sitting there, knowing she better make one last phone call for today, cancelling the last appointment. After the phone call was made she went to her record player and placed a record on it that helped bring softness to the room and a flowing calmness.   She went on to prepare dinner for the two of them, believing that things were going to be changing, and their future was looking brighter. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn cut from the cob, bread and butter with jelly and hot tea, was the menu for tonight.

The smells drifted through Dahlia’s nose and soon the saliva started forming in her mouth, as she had not eaten much for so many days, she realized she actually was famished. She climbed out of bed and went across the hall to the bathroom using her hands to guide her through each step. She splashed her face with water, and slowly ran a comb through her tangled hair. When she thought she looked the best she could for now, she went to the kitchen, felt her chair and sat down as if the teacher was her maid or slave.

The teacher said nothing to this, as she was just relieved Dahlia was out of her room. There was not much conversation taken place during this meal. Teacher noticed Dahlia eating and doing not much chewing, and she smiled to herself, as her student devoured each bite.

After dinner was over the dirty settings were placed on the counter top waiting to be washed, but this could be done later. Now, it was time to let Dahlia know of the plans for her future, and her new school. She added hot water to their tea cups and sitting back down across from Dahlia, cleared her throat and sat  up a little straighter, ready to start her battle of winning this war.

The teacher began by letting Dahlia know that what had happened the past week or so was not her fault, that neither of them had planned on this or had done anything to help cause this. She let her student know that she loved her and that she knew she had a diamond sitting here across from her, and she would continue to be of help to get her through her schooling.

Dahlia felt with her fingers until they wrapped around the warm tea-cup and opened her mouth to protest, but the teacher would not give her a chance to speak.