About Me

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My husband tells me I am a makebate. So, what's wrong with that? I love to write. I have 2 great kids and 1 grandson. I'd love to say I am "retired" but really, who retires from life? Shoot me a question, comment, rant or rave. They are all welcome here. Love dogs, my family, and most of all, debate. Pro NRA, conservative and a right wing lady.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Remembering the Street Lamps

It has been a complete month since my last entry.  This blog and its contents are like a neighbor or friend.  I feel a solid chunk of guilt and remorse for being away for far too long.

With recent health issues which have overtaken my once leisurely way of life, my intentions were at least of merit.  Everyday brought a new set of goals, which included penning a few word strings in my blog.  For whatever reasons, the act of writing fell by the wayside.  The thoughts would be primed in my mind, ready then for transference to keyboard and pecking at the keys.  Yet, everyday I either found an excuse or plum forgot to muse about menopause.

So, why is tonight different from the past 30 days?   There's a great deal on my mind.  Back surgery played a few tricks, losing a few friends occupied my mind and broken heart, finding that another friend had breast cancer weighed heavily upon my mind.  I have several reasons.  Taken one by one, they may have been fought against, and even become victorious over, but given and/or taken as a whole, the 30 days of self imposed exile seems to have allowed me to regroup and get my muckers ready to do battle.

That large, over fed rodent Phil gave everyone a laugh and inappropriately exclaimed,  "you fools, spring is around the corner".  He's got a pretty good gig, although I read that he may be indicted, and has a possible death sentence of his head.  I live in the Rocky's, and spring would not appear to be here as of yet.

As the snow does melt on warm days, the snow departs, giving way to soaking brown piles of recycled dog refuse.  I believe this is the year I shall purchase one of those handy contraptions so that I do not need to bend over to scoop poop.  We stayed on top of our dog droppings all winter, but no one is perfect and there are other dogs cruising the neighborhood.  I relish for spring to arrive, but the revelation of brown poops piles tends to put an odor on the whole season.

With the change in time, comes the longer days.  As a child, we had a crowd of kids who would gather for bike riding, adventures, fort building, all without the benefit of cell phones.  We knew the party was over by the appearance of the street lamps coming on at night.  Those were carefree days.  I miss them.  Thankfully, those same childhood friends are still in my circle, and from time to time we are able to lament over days of carefree fun.

Eventually adulthood reaches us all.  We are in the process of packing up our house, painting, replacing kitchen cabinets, installing new interior doors, and making the place look like a million bucks.  I will be relieved when every room looks somewhat normal, sparse, but normal.  I will rejoice when an offer comes our way, and we can move on to our next adventure, hopefully before the street lamps come on.