I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I was struck with polio when I was a baby. I understand that the epidemic was one of the last large polio epidemics and a record for the residents of Sioux City, Iowa in 1952. Not a record I wanted to take part in, believe me!
Mom said I’d started walking at 9 months and had already been getting into things, when one morning she woke to my screams and I couldn’t stand up in my crib. So many people were affected, they read the names of those admitted to the hospitals on the radio, which is how my grandparents heard that I’d been admitted to St. Vincent’s. No one could figure out how I’d caught the virus. I was too young to go to the pools in town, and I never went anywhere without my mom or grandparents, none of whom got sick.
I was lucky—I lived. And luckier still when Mom knew a man who was a Shriner. He sponsored me and got me into the program when I was old enough. We started taking the 275-mile trip to Minneapolis, which had the closest hospital every few months. When we moved to Alameda, CA, I went to the hospital in San Francisco, and later, when we moved to Virginia Beach, VA, we had the long trek to the hospital in Greenville, SC. But those trips were worth it! Through years of braces, surgery, and endless (it seemed!) physical therapy and nightly exercises, I was able to end my time with the Shrine group a teenager who could walk, dance, ride a bike, and do most of the things any teen could do. They worked a miracle, and they didn’t charge a dime.
That’s why—with all the very worthy charities there are out there—Shriners Hospitals for Children will always be my favorite. And, they spend the money donated well. They’re highly rated for using their donations where they’re supposed to.
Who do you routinely donate to?
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.
Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.
My mother-in-law once told me that she never considered divorcing my father-in-law until they renovated their home. She also commented that she would never (ever, ever) go through another renovation, even if she had to live in a hovel without one. I thought she was exaggerating until we recently renovated our master bathroom.
next week. No return call. We called again, leaving messages. We texted. Finally, because we had been given the contractor’s name by the plumbing company, we called them and asked that if they had contact with him to please ask him to call us. The plumbing company called back and said that the guy had another job and couldn’t do ours. Fortunately, they gave us another name and he worked with us. There were some other quirks and blips in the installation process, but at long last, by the end of October we had our shower. And it’s beautiful and wonderful. Having it is akin to giving birth in that all the pain of getting it here and installed is forgotten now that it’s over. Maybe all renovations are like that…?
I have a confession to make. I am old enough to remember when most people received news through…what were those things? Oh yeah, Newspapers. Most also watched the evening news on television at six o’clock, but newspapers delivered national and local news in one place and in more depth. My parents used to read every page of the daily papers. I was more receptive to television. One thing is certain, where people get their news has changed dramatically over the years.
her iPhone and I thought she was crazy. Who could enjoy reading anything in depth on that little screen? Well, I’ve found out. I was one of those people who said I’d never use a smart phone for anything. Now I pick it up all the time for one thing or another—including keeping up with news practically as it happens!
Remember that song, Red Sails in the Sunset? Probably not unless you’re as old as dirt, like me. I always liked it, though. So romantic, watching a sailing ship in the sunset as it sets out on the ocean. The sails are billowing and catching the last rays of the sun. There is adventure there. There is a dream. There is the wide sea and endless stars during the night. But there is NOT me.
thanks to corona virus, no one can cruise right now. But even in the happiest of times, no way would you get me on a cruise ship. I’m happy for those who do enjoy the voyage. More power to you! I understand lots of people have already signed up for when ships set sail again. For me, I’ll happily wave goodbye from the shore!
Clairol used to have a commercial asking if blondes really have more fun. Of course the answer was yes, and supposedly, sales at Clairol proved the point. But an article on 
would guess it’s red. That’s because I’ve always loved red hair. My childhood hair color was pure blonde but by the time I entered my teens it was brown. Not a pretty brown with highlights of either auburn or gold, just…brown. Is it any wonder, then, that I always envied my cousin’s red hair that turned from a luscious strawberry blond to an even prettier bright red as she aged? My grandmother’s hair was a deep auburn, but she and Pamela are the only two in our family to boast red hair. Honestly, I’m not sure either of them appreciated the gift. Not more than I would have, surely. 😉
So my hair color now? Gray. And I won’t color it. I’ve earned each and every one of those gray hairs, and I’m proud of them! How about you? What color is your hair—in reality or in your dreams—and what does it say about you?
ecause of our nomadic lifestyle, hubby and I have had the luxury and privilege of living in both cities and the country. We spent 4 years in Richmond, Virginia—not huge, but still a decent sized city—and 12 years in a neighboring county with 13,000 people in the county. We lived just outside New York City and then moved to live in Appleton, Wisconsin, where 10 minutes would get you to the airport and about ten steps separated you from the baggage claim, loading gate, and car rental desk. We moved to the heart of San Francisco, across from City Hall and the ballet, and then moved to Greenwood, SC, where ten cars constituted a traffic jam. Our last move was from the urban Tidewater area (Norfolk, Virginia Beach, Portsmouth, Hampton and Newport News) to a tiny town in Idaho. I can honestly say I enjoyed each and every place we lived.
visited the Wharf weekly. The restaurants are deservedly legendary. In Richmond, too, we had season tickets to the theater. New York offered Radio City Music Hall and a city throbbing with energy, and Tidewater, where I’d lived for nine years growing up, was home in a way. None of those things were true in the small towns/country where we lived. In our Virginia county, we were 35 miles from the nearest city, and 50 miles into Richmond, so shopping had to be planned. As I said, the airport in Appleton was close but everything else was pretty limited. Still, the people were amazingly friendly, and the town was fun to explore. I loved living in rural South Carolina! Anytime was a good time for a ride in the country and all kinds of interesting things presented themselves for exploration.
This week’s blog question is whether there are any topics you won’t write about. Sure. I won’t write about politics, religion, or another person’s spouse. One of my earliest pieces of advice came from my dad who lived most of his adult life in close quarters with a bunch of other men on naval ships. He said those three things were topics no one should ever discuss. I assume because they were hot buttons that would cause fights. I’ll take that to mean I shouldn’t write about them, too. They’re nothing but trouble.
great romances in that genre. But I know my limitations and I would not be able to write a same sex romance that would be good enough for anyone to read. This is also a problem with stories that have strong animal characters. I love dogs and cats but I don’t have all that much experience with them, sadly. Would I be able to portray them as main assets in a book? I fear not.
When the question arises of whether I prefer to drive to a mall to shop (or even down to my quaint little town) or let my fingers do the walking, there’s no doubt that I prefer to shop from home. It could be that I’m lazy but I don’t think that’s the whole answer. The fact is, I never really enjoyed going shopping, mostly because walking and standing have always given me trouble thanks to Mr. Polio. But I am kind of lazy, too.
online. Of course, I admit that there are difficulties with shopping from a computer screen. The colors are not always true. The clothes don’t always fit and have to be sent back. Orders don’t always arrive and then there is the hassle with refunds. But for the most part, I’ve been pretty happy over the years, plugging my credit card into the slot on the side of the computer. (That is how it works, isn’t it?) And as stores continue to add online to their shopping options, I get happier and happier.
Are you the sort of person who plans every detail of a trip? Or one who takes off with only vague ideas of where you want to stay each night on the way to your destination? Do you even have a destination? Of course, traveling for fun and traveling for business are two different things. I want to talk here about vacationing.
were living in Virginia but of course had trucked extensively in the western states she wanted to see. She pulled out a map and started at the Grand Canyon, then worked her way up through Utah, Colorado, and into the Dakotas. We worked at a school and had the summer off, so I said, “That will be a great month-long trip, You’ll have fun!” “A month?” she said. “We’re doing this in two weeks. I have every minute planned.” Wow! They came back exhausted but I guess had spent at least ten minutes at each attraction, lol. They had fun, and that’s all that really counted. But that’s not the way Jack and I roll. As they say, different strokes for different folks!
I suppose if you knew that I’d been a long-distance trucker it wouldn’t surprise you to know that I’d rather drive then fly whenever I can. Flying used to be fun—back when there were fewer travelers, when I was in college and could still dash from one gate to another, and when a size 10 still fit the seats. Need I say that none of those things work for me anymore?
to be relaxed in the west of the U.S. than in the crowded east, but even there I just like having some control over my life with my hands on the wheel. I try not to let people push me. I find a comfortable speed and hang in there. If someone wants to go faster, there’s usually a way to pass. Mores the pity, though, because I’m watching the signs, wondering where the people in all the cars are going, and who lives in that pretty blue house on the right side of the road. Life is good. Oh yeah, and I might spend a passing moment following the contrails of a jet overhead.