What do I want to be when I grow up?

Which road should I take?

I don’t know what to wear!

Do I take this job or that job?

Where do I want to live?

Ah, decisions, decisions!  Or, in my world where a different word is used, ah!  Choices, choices!  Don’t we make choices every single moment of our lives?  You bet.  Every day we choose to respond to the alarm clock (or not), get to work on time (or not). . .  Read More…

My last post was 13 days ago.  As far as blogging purposes go, that’s not so good.

For the past 13 days, and believe me it feels like a whole month, I’ve been wallowing in a kind of purposeless haze.  I’ve been doing things like eating, sleeping, working, watching TV, playing games on my computer, wondering where my blogging interest went; just kind of treading water.  No, not even that; I’ve been lying on my back and floating along, wondering where the heck I’m drifting. Read More…

The following is taken from my book, modestly and shyly showcased in my sidebar. . . 

 

We’ll hear these words at our funeral.  But I think, why wait until the old body gives out? Read More…

I have no idea what the source is for what follows, so all I can do is thank the author for this absolutely amazing depiction of the difference between dogs and cats.  I don’t think this is an “odious” comparison, but rather a comparison similar to apples and oranges.

As dogs and cats go, yes — both are animals.  According to the following, that’s the end of their similarities!  This made me laugh out loud, I hope you do, too . . . Read More…

A lovely morning it is, with me outdoors, coffee in hand.  Not a cloud in the sky.  San Diego Bay is blue blue blue.  Yep, this is a good day to be alive.

Today is . . . um. . . today is . . . (sigh) . . . let’s see, yesterday was . . .  what the heck, I don’t know what day it is!  And no, this is not senility, I think it’s I-don’t-care-ity.  That’s it.  If I can’t remember what today is, then I guess it doesn’t matter.  I can roll with that. Read More…

This morning as we began breaking camp in Santa Rosa, one of our traveling neighbors stopped by to visit.  This hispanic gent told me he grew up 10 miles south of where we were standing, and grew up living off the land. . . had to drive dirt roads for miles to collect water . . . grew their own veggies . . . Read More…