ANGRY - not written by me - but I so agree with this person

A Few Good Reasons for Cancer Patients to be Angry:

• Your body has been mutilated and deformed by surgery
• You’ve lost some level of function as a result of surgery or other treatment
• Loss of attractiveness, even if just for a time, even if just perceived
• Loss of energy and stamina
• Your life has been disrupted, interrupted, put on hold, losing time and years you may never get back
• Forced alteration of lifestyle due to debilitating symptoms
• Inability to work
• Inability to perform at work at pre-cancer levels due to residual effects of treatment, both physical and cognitive
• Inability to work during treatment but working anyhow due to finances
• Diminished quality of life and inability to enjoy life due to all of the above, i.e., too sick and/or fatigued to socialize and therefore being shut in
• Diminished libido and low concept of self as a sexual being
• Loss of fertility
• Strained relationships
• Broken relationships, including estrangement from friends and divorce from spouses
• Strained and broken finances, even bankruptcy due to high cost of medical expenses
• Foreclosed houses resulting from an inability to work or the high cost of medical treatment

And you sometimes feel like:

• A medical experiment gone wrong
• Your body is as an old, worn-out junk car
• You’ll never be your former self
• Your emotions and psyche are scarred and you don’t know how to heal
• Your experience is trivialized, downplayed or discounted by others
• You’re judged for not bouncing back quickly enough
• Your day-to-day existence has been reduced to the struggle to survive
• Too many of your peers are dying from the disease
• Your days are numbered
• You feel you’ve prematurely entered old age.

 We surround ourselves with religious or spiritual beliefs that tell us that anger is sinful, negative, poison to the soul. We constantly filter ourselves. Is it any wonder some people erupt inappropriately? Talk about a buildup of pressure.
“Righteous anger” is often depicted in sacred texts, such as the wrath of God in the Torah or Jesus turning over the money tables in the Temple in the New Testament. Can you imagine if Jesus’s friends said to him, “Hey, man, whoa, whoa, whoa! Whaddya doing? You really need to put a lid on that, maybe take some anger management classes. And really, what good are those childish displays? Trust me, you’ll be a lot happier if you just accept what you can’t change and choose to be happy.”
Angry people effect change in this imperfect world. Do you think even in his passive resistance that Gandhi didn’t feel incensed about the injustices in his day? We often hold up as models civil rights activists Martin Luther King, Jr., and Rosa Parks. You think they weren’t angry?
Angry people are in pain. Pain needs to be expressed through healthy outlets; otherwise, it’s bound to come out in any number of inappropriate ways such as venting on undeserving people. I can’t think of any better way to express anger or pain than through the arts. That includes painting, dancing, music, writing, poetry, and more. I would not stifle those expressions. If they make you uncomfortable, you don’t need to subject yourself.

SLEEP APNEA

   Sleep Apnea is a pain in the arse!  How do I know?  I have dealt  with it  for over 12 years.  In case you don't know, Sleep Apnea is when a person stops breathing while they are sleeping.
   At the Sleep Center where I had to spent the night for testing,they told me that I stopped breathing 95 times. It was quite scary for me when they told me that. It can also cause a heart attack if you don't treat it, and yes, even with using the machine, I can still feel tired during the day. 
   Yes, its been at least 12 years if not longer that I have slept with a C- Pap. It is a machine that holds water and is attached to a long bendable plastic hose, at the end of the hose is the form that fits over my head and nose. The water is so my nasal passages don't dry up while the machine forces air into the mask, and that opens the muscle that is located in the back of my throat which stopped working.
    I look like some kind of Martian  when I have it on, It is made of Velcro strips that I adjust so the form fits tight over my nose.
So many times I have had a dry, burning mouth when waking up, its an awful feeling. If it happens in the middle of the night I pull the mask off and sleep without it, that makes the next day a miserable, tired one. I should research the problem, maybe I am doing something wrong.
    I have to make sure I kiss Ron good night before putting on the mask, Oh, it is so romantic -not :-(.  It is a big turn off believe me, but what can I do, nothing.  It is what it is. At least it is not oxygen, some people have it so bad that they have oxygen machines instead of water.
 I know that I can never stay over night anywhere without bringing along my machine and mask. What a chore to pack it and than hook it all up, and make sure I have my water and there is an outlet near the bed. My wonderful husband does this for me.
   I took for granted just laying my head on my pillow and falling asleep normally.  I had a hard time adjusting to wearing the mask, but after awhile I got use to preparing for bed with this as one of my rituals. I keep a gallon of distilled water by my bed. The hose is long enough that I can turn over on my other side, and for some reason I haven't tangled it around my neck yet!
   So if you are one of the lucky ones that just go to bed normally, don't take it for granted - smile as you snuggle with your pillow.

WALKING ON EGG SHELLS

  

 I had a friend, one I thought I could be myself with, and at ease with. A relatively new friend of maybe a year.  But, it seemed like we had been friends forever. We talked, laughed and cried together, just like kindred sisters.
   A very talented person who I met by chance, doing what we both loved to do. Yes, a lot in common had we, as our interests grew, so did the friendship.  Happy was I to have met such a person, one I thought  I could trust and confide in..
  I see what I want to see in a person I like, a lot of times brushing off things I should of paid heed to.
Ever the optimistic, I see the good qualities, no one is perfect, all have faults. When I like a person, I tend to overlook the persons attitude  thinking they are having a off day. When those days began to multiply, I still kept finding excuses.  I didn't want to find anything unpleasant.
     I expected too much. Some in my family say I am to trusting, and naïve. When I meet someone I worry if they will like me, not if I will like them.
  I lost a friend, one I thought highly of, admired, and laughed with. Shared ideas and thoughts, we were on the same page. Until the personality changed, slow, but unexpectedly growing into a storm I had no time to prepare for. I had no idea of the damage the storm would cause, and was devastated to find out the extent of it.
    Have you ever been stabbed in the back by someone you thought of as a friend?  At first, I felt disbelief,  then anger, now sadness, for the person who did this. Feeling a loss inside of me of what could of been.
    Words, hurtful words said about a person who had no clue of what was said until it was over and done. Being questioned in a way that implied fault is very upsetting, especially not being there while the accuser was accusing.
   Realizing the people questioning had already judged, is so painful that I choke up when I think about it.  But, I know in my heart that anyone who knows me well, would not even believe what was implied.
   I realize this person has a lot of problems they keep under wrap, and not a lot going for them, but that is no reason to damage another's reputation.
                  Hopefully they will find comfort and peace inside of them soon,

For my grandchildren and their children so they know a little about their grandmother and great grandmother.
 
  

Some of My Summer Memories

Growing up in the fifties, I remember that we had some very hot summers.  Air Conditioning didn't exist yet, but we had fans in all of the windows. One side taking the hot air out and the other pushing cold air in - supposedly it was suppose to make the rooms cooler, It never felt cool to me.  I can still feel the sweat pouring down my face and soaking through my shirt, how I hated that feeling, still do to this day, but it does not happen that often anymore thankfully
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I spent most of my summer days at Glassport Swimming Pool, every afternoon I would walk from my home to the pool and meet my friends. We never made plans to meet, it was just a given that we would be there. I was not the greatest swimmer, but I would go off the dive and stay in the deep part of the pool playing Tag. One time I was swimming under water and had just about run out of holding my breath, I tried to surface, but there was another swimmer on top of where I was about to come up. I didn't panic - but just held my breath a little longer till I found a opening. As soon as I broke to the surface I was tagged. And here I thought I was being so clever by hiding under water.

 As the years went by I became a teenager, and I was still going to the pool, but now instead of spending most of our time in the water, my friends and I would lay out on our towels getting some rays, listening to the music coming through the loudspeakers. Two songs I remember quite well, and are my favorites to this day are "What A Difference A Day Makes" by Diana Washington, and "There Were Bells On The Hills" , I forget who sang this song.  I can still remember hearing the kids laughter and the sounds of  them splashing in the pool as I lay on my towel with my eyes closed.
My friends and I didn't have a care in the world back then,  just the sheer joy of being  kids, growing into teenagers, and enjoying the lazy hazy days of summer.

As a teenager I remember being on a picnic with my parents, Ron, and my mother's siblings, along with my grandmother.   We were at Keystone State Park, my Uncle was in charge of grilling the steaks on the grill. My one aunt always rubbed him the wrong way, and she must of said something to him that day that rubbed him the wrong way , because he over peppered all of the steaks on purpose. He wanted to make sure her steak was ruined, but so was all of ours. What a waste of money. and no on was a happy camper.
They never did get along, he passed away first without them ever making amends. The cousins speak but it is not a close relationship.

Growing up I didn't know that families went on vacation together. I didn't even know vacations existed. My family never went on a vacation.. The only place we went together was to my grandparents home for the weekend in Forbes Road. My parents went away for a few weekends, but my brother and I stayed with my grandmother. In fact I truly don't know if my dad or mom ever saw the ocean or walked holding hands with their feet in the sand.

The very first time on vacation that I ever went on vacation, was with Ron's family. We went to Wildwood New Jersey. It was the first time I saw the ocean and to say I fell in love immediately would be an understatement. The overwhelming feeling of seeing the ocean for the first time is indescribable. I never imagined how vast it would be, how awesome to see waves building up far out and to see and hear them come crashing on to shore. The feeling of being unbalanced  while I stood with my eyes closed and  the waves flowing over my feet, sometimes hard enough that I almost fell over. Collecting  seashells was fun, trying to find big ones and unbroken ones to take home as souvenirs, I was told to watch out for jellyfish as they could really sting, that was an adventure in itself, since I didn't know what a jelly fish looked like.

Wildwood had an amusement park, and in the evening Ron and I would stroll the boardwalk stopping at this one pizza place every night, one place we thought special was a little coffee place. It was so quaint and had special packages of sugar that we kept so we could remember the place.  I imagine  it is stored away in a box someplace in this home.

 It was a magical time for us, being on vacation together. Ron's parents had rented a small cottage for the week close by to the ocean. I had my own bedroom while Ron and his brothers slept in another room and his parents in yet another room. It had a nice size kitchen where Ron's mother made a delicious breakfast every morning and dinner at night. I wish that I could have shared an experience like that with my own parents and brother.

When our family was young we would vacation at Ron's brother's home. He lived on 22 acres of ground with two ponds on the property. They always welcomed us and treated us so special. Many times we would see bears really close to his porch. One time my brother and our close friend drove up to surprise us. We were so happy to hear they were staying for the weekend.

Dinner was always a fun time no matter what we had to eat, it was sharing the time with the ones we loved that made it fun. After dinner towards evening, we would burn the cobs from the corn we had for dinner in the burn barrel. We knew that bears came on the property but not real close, this one time the smell lured the bears really close, so close that they were by the front porch of the home/cabin. We watched the bears from the windows of  the living room, the windows were from celling to floor and would not have stopped the bears from coming in if they so desired. My brother was so nervous, and so was I, but the rest of the crew all took it in stride as we watched the bears climb on one car and then another. They could not get to the burn barrel because it was still very hot, so they eventually lumbered away.

We slept on the living room floor and my brother would not sleep near the windows or door because of the bears. It was an exciting time for us and I'm sure for my brother. There were so many wonderful memories made there. It wasn't funny at the time, but Ron's brother would always get so upset when someone would flush the toilet and not need to. The saying was if its yellow let it be, if its brown flush it. Us city folks couldn't remember that and oh my would the swearing start, I know it had something to do with the septic tank and the well and the water flow, I couldn't understand it at the time, and still don't really. But looking back on it now, it was a  part of the way they lived being out in the country.

To my grandchildren and great grandchildren so you can know a little about our growing years. There will be more stories to follow these, but at another post. I think this is enough to absorb right now.
Hope you all enjoyed reading it as I did remembering and writing about it.

THE TUTH OF THE MATTER

NOT WRITTEN BY ME BUT BY A SISTER

I battled cancer for a year, did chemo, surgery, radiation, the whole lot -- and nobody shaved their head for me. You know all those stories of people who get diagnosed with cancer and ordered to do chemo and their best friend jumps in and immediately says they'll shave their head with you? Stuff like that?
Well, that doesn't happen as often as you think. The one thing that has held true about cancer, during and after, is that it will leave you disappointed at some point by every single person you know. And I had no idea that it would change every relationship in my life the way that it did.
At first, there is the rally. Everyone comes to your aid, everyone cares. Everyone is sending stuff. Loads of packages arrive to your house and flowers cover your living room. Then you start treatment and things slowly wane. The texts and presents become less consistent, people go back to their normal lives and you trudge, seemingly unendingly through treatment.
An inverted figurative graph is formed: While the shock and awe of your diagnosis has worn off to those around you and they slowly return to normalcy thinking that you are ok, things for you as cancer patient have only gotten more difficult. And for you they crescendo and build up. Yes, treatment might be working, but you feel more and more miserable while everyone else gets comfortable with your status as cancer patient.
Reflecting back, I think I subconsciously started staging my friends in the same way cancer is staged. A Stage I friend is the best you can get, checking in with you a lot, offering support, honest support and just bringing you things even when you say you are fine. A Stage II friend checks in periodically and is that one that you can go to when you're feeling rotten and truly be honest with. A Stage III friend is on the periphery -- they know what you're dealing with, but they can't handle it themselves, so they treat you uber-normally. They're the friends you can go to when you want to feel normal, but you know they have no idea what you're dealing with. A Stage IV friend is the worst, as they have basically just checked out since you told them you were sick.
There are lots of variations here, of course, and Stage IIAs and IIIBs, etc. Some people are Stage I friends for a bit then fall to Stage IIIB pretty quickly.
If you are positive and put on a front to your friends, if you wear a wig and look 'normal' then often the perception of you is that you are fine and "a trooper" or some other form of a Cathy cartoon that is "hanging in there." In reality, continuing through cancer treatment just gets harder.
Then, it seems, everyone shifts their focus to start asking you when "you're done" or when you'll "be done" with this cancer stuff. But the truth is that you are never done. When you finish treatment, that is when things get even more difficult, in some ways, because you begin to try to figure out a few things, namely a) what the hell just fucking happened b) how do I continue a normal life now and c) how do I grapple with the notion of recurrence and every ache and pain sending one into an obliteration of anxiety.
And when you are done with treatment, that is when cancer becomes intensely isolating, because a notion of post-treatment care in our current healthcare paradigm is non-existent and everyone in your support circle is just glad you are done and wants to move on from the nightmare that just happened to you. And you want this so badly too, but unfortunately the cancer cloud looms heavy over you and you cannot simply forget and move on. It is part of you.
As my friend and young adult cancer advocate Kaylin Andres recently noted, we need to reframe our notion of cancer as part of life and not simply part of death. As cancer becomes more and more common in young people, we must begin to shift the dialogue to focus not on how to accept cancer as part of our lives, but how to stop denying its presence.
Whether you see it in my body or not, cancer will always be a part of my life. As patients and thrivers, we would love to be able to speak to those around us about our cancer without them looking at us with sad eyes and a sense of morbidity. We are afraid, but cancer is truly a part of who we are, physically and mentally, and we need to be open about that in our relationships and our lives.

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

IN THE GOOD OLE SUMMERTIME

Growing up in the fifties, people thought of July as the middle of summer, August was called the "dog days" of summer. As a young girl, I was told that "dog days" meant that the hot weather in August made the dogs mean and they would bite. I know that I was told not to get close to dogs during that time., because dogs would be hot and miserable. I never questioned the meaning. Funny how kids believe and interpreted sayings.  Later on, when curiosity got the best of me, I research it and found that the meaning of  "Dog Days" is because the heat of Sirus (the dog star) and the heat of the sun, added together made for the sultry, muggiest part of the summer. Having nothing to do what so ever in the way dog's act. The dog days of summer lasts from July 3, to Aug. 11.

Have you noticed for quite awhile July marks the end of summer in department stores? All stores really. They put the summer items in a corner somewhere and out comes all of the school supplies, clothing stores put out fall clothing. We all know that this nice weather can last well into October, but it is still a downer to go into the stores and see they pushing school supplies and fall clothing. True, a lot of kids leave for school in August,  but towards the end of August, not the beginning.

In my opinion the end of July would be the appropriate time I would want to see the school shoes, backpacks, clothing and supplies for school.

Any thoughts on this?

I WANT MY MOTHER

No matter how old a person is, at one point of their life they find themselves thinking "I Want My Mother". I firmly believe this, even if that mother was hurtful, or had other problems, a person always wants their mother's love.

     My Mother has been gone since 1995. It seems like yesterday though. I can still feel her touch the last time she was at our home for Christmas Eve. She was not going to come because she did not feel good, but at the last minute she ask my brother to bring her. I was so surprised and so happy. Of course there were tears when we saw each other, and she grabbed my arms real tight while hugging me. I can still feel that hug. My husband and boys were excited also, they all loved my mom with a great passion. She had a special relationship with each one of them.

Her very last Christmas she spent in the hospital, it was the first time she had ever been in the hospital on a important holiday, so it was a sad time. We all went, and I even took her a plate filled with Christmas food and a plate full of cookies, we exchanged gifts and I even brought up a little real tree all decorated I bought from the local florist, but it was not the same.  When it was time for us to leave, we all cried, even my mom, who never showed when she was sad. She always kept everything inside of her, not wanting her family to know if she was suffering or feeling sad. Every time I hear the song "Smile Though Your Heart is Breaking" I think of my mom, because that was her to the T.
 I never met a braver woman then my mom. She suffered so much, but always had a smile on her face.

If I ever called her to complain about Ron, she would interrupt and say "Now, Dolores, you have a good guy, I don't want to hear anything bad about him" and I would say "but. Mom" and she would always stick up for Ron. Sometimes I would get mad because she would not stick up for me, but she knew me well in those young days of mine. She knew I had a quick temper and got mad easily.
Thanks to Ron, I have mended my ways through watching him, the laid back guy that never gets mad unless it is really bad. Then watch out - but that rarely happens.

One of the things my mom shared with my husband was the taste of good Italian bread. She would always bring a loaf with her and say to Ron, "I brought cake!"  That's what they called it , because it just tasted too good to be called bread, Italian or not.  Her pizzells we fought over, they were so delicious and crisp. She would bring them down in a large gold canister type can with the inside was lined with aluminum and each layer was lined in wax paper. Another of the same type of can would have Apricot Horns layered the same way. The boys would go crazy over them also, but mostly Brian, he loves apricot to this day.
And her homemade sauce - no matter how hard I tried, I could never duplicate, nor can I duplicate the Potato Pancakes made from scratch, nor her meatballs, pork chops, chicken, and eggplant. What I would not do to be able to walk into her kitchen today, to see her there making one of the above or all of them. To see how her face lit up and to see her smile when she saw us.

  My mom was not even 74, when she passed. She would of turned 74 that June, but she passed March 25. As far as I'm concerned both of my parents got a raw deal in life. My dad, just turned 66 when he passed and my mom, not even 74.  I get angry inside when I think about it, I know it does not do any good, but it makes me feel so bad that I did not have them longer, and my sons didn't have them longer. My two older ones remember more then my two younger ones, especially of my dad. I know some people lose their parents even earlier, and the hurt they must have, but that doesn't stop me from feeling sad. I want my Mom, right now - I want to feel her hug, see her smile and have her comfort me.  Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for the time I did have with them, it was just not long enough.
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       If my mom were here now, she would give me one of  her good hugs, I would see her smile and I would hear her laugh again. I know she would comfort me, and be by my side through all of this. I imagine her staying with me, we would have breakfast together and talk. Then maybe watch a sitcom or talk show. She would make me laugh, she had a great sense of humor. Then she would be at the stove making something good. One of the best things she made when we were sick - was a 3 minute egg that she would break and mix with two pieces of toast with salt and pepper. That was the best medicine, I even made it for my sons when they were sick. Another thing that I would not dare do today, is to make Egg Nogs, oh, my, were they ever good. You would fill a blender with milk, a raw egg, vanilla and add sugar. Turn on the blender until the liquid was all frothy and pour into a glass. It was so delicious. I even made it for my son Doug when he had Mono. But today's eggs, I would hesitate to use a raw egg.

There are other good recipes also - like pastina in chicken broth, with beaten egg that you dropped by teaspoon into the broth. So very tasty when sick. My mom was really a terrific cook and baker, I have a lot of her recipes that I have made in the past, nothing tasted like hers, but it was passable. One thing I do think I come close to is making Stuff Cabbage - I think that it is the closest to tasting like my mom's.

A mom's love is unconditional, she will love you to her last breath and beyond, no matter what you do or how hurtful you might of been - there is nothing that can come close to a Mother's Love. When the mother is gone, the family breaks up - I have seen it over and over again. The mom is the one who will do everything in her power to get the family together, who else is going to go the extra mile to make that happen but a Mother.  - - -  - - - -

If she were here, she would show me how to do the number formula to see what numbers might hit that night. She was a great number player. When we lived on Hemlock alley and ever since I was little girl, I remember walking to the corner store with pennies in my hand and a piece of paper with the numbers my mom wanted to  play. The store was called DE Falco's and Mrs. DE Falco and her two daughters ran the store. I can still remember one of the daughters who walked with a noticeable limp from having Polio. Her name was Julie, but I can't remember the other daughters name. At that time the vaccine had not been developed yet. They were such a nice Italian family, and the neighboring women would gather there to discuss what numbers to play. It was like a little coffee klatch only without the coffee.  I don't remember how long the little store stayed open, but at some point it closed and the next place to play numbers, if not with a bookie was the" Donut Shop". At that place they had stools and served coffee, donuts and soft drinks, not for free. But that was the place to gather to see what numbers were hot and what was in the workout.
It was a harmless hobby and gave my mom something to dabble in. At one time her best friend bought the place and ran it, but then she sold it off, again I don't know if it still exist or not.

Another hobby my mom had, this one a little more expensive, was playing Poker. She was good! Sometimes when I was visiting there, I would watch them play and just stare in amazement at how my mom knew her cards. That, I believe saved her when my dear dad passed away. Her friends rallied round her and they played penny poker at my mom's. She had people around her and the poker kept her mind occupied. She was only 55.

I often wonder why I can't be more like both of my parents. My dad never complained either, but here I am - I complain and whine to Ron about every little thing. Why do I do that - I try to remember not to but - - - - - - - -I have to learn not to, he has enough on his plate without me whining about every little thing like a little baby - I hate myself when I do that, I hate myself when I look into the mirror, I don't see the me that I was -

I'm bored, no one visits, no one calls, I wish I could still be working at the library, I can't wait till this is all over so I can go back. One thing I miss is friends that care, you know if a friend cares or not. Heck,  even my sons don't call - except for my oldest, he has a long drive and calls on his way home.
My one son has company. so I guess he forgot my phone number for a little while, the other son is working long hours so it is hard for him to call, and the other son - stops in because he stays here a couple times a week, but he does not stop and sit to talk with me.  As this is the story of my life I am hoping that my grandchildren, and their children will learn from this, how important it is to make a phone call to a parent. Maybe by reading this they will someday do it for their parents. I hope so. Or maybe by one of you reading this it will make you think about calling someone you love.

As the old saying goes, visit me while I'm here, not when I'm gone.

Wow, two blogs in one day - I'm amazing myself! Though this one is to deep and I should not even post it for anyone to read.

Dee

FISH GOTTA SWIM, BIRDS GOTTA FLY

"FISH GOTTA SWIM, BIRDS GOTTA FLY" is one of my favorite songs from the musical, "Showboat."   I have been fortunate to see the live play and movie at least 6 times, starting when I was a young girl and my mother and grandmother both took me. The other favorite song of mine is "We Can Make Believe" . Do any of you remember this, or am I showing my age?

     How fast June flew by, I still feel its the month of  May. Summer months seem to fly by, while winter months seem like they will never end.  I think because there is a lot of outside activities in warmer months, like being able to garden either flowers, vegetables or both. and not being able too in the cold months?  If your young though, or not so young, but able, there are a lot of things to do, like skiing, snow- mobiles, tubing, sled riding, while some people who are snow-birds, go to the warmer climates for the cold months. These are the people that have the best of both worlds. I know I will never see it and I don't know if I would want to, because it would be lonesome without the kids and grand kids around. They make our days fun and when the only family you have are your kids, you tend to, or I should say I tend to count on them, plus we love, just love our grand kids. Who would want to be away from them for those months, not me.

              So, welcome July, I hope you stay awhile, only with not so much rain this week. The Firemen Carnival is in town, and it is something everyone looks forward to. Not only the rides for the kids, but the games for adults,( one of my favorites is chuck-a-la). And how can I not mention the food?  Beside  carnival food, they have the good food the firemen make .People go just for the Hot Sausage & Peppers with Onions Hoagies. Then there's the french fries, cotton candy, etc. The big nights are when they have the fireworks, this year it is on July 4, Thursday, with the big parade held on Friday. Springdale Library always has a good show of staff and patrons in the parade.
This is one of the big fundraisers for the firemen, so rain stay away for a little while so it can be a success OK?

       There is not much activity going on in our back yard, the rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks seemed to have disappeared. There are quite a few birds that still visit though, especially Robins. I have not seen hide nor hare of Little Wren for about two weeks, part of the nesting is hanging out of the birdhouse.  I'm thinking the little ones have taken off on their own. Don't know if she will lay eggs a third time or not.  At least they are not in Arizona or the desert, really brutal heat they are having there.

      On our street it is so rare to hear a dog bark or a child's voice in play. I miss those sounds, they to me are sounds of life happening. I miss seeing people outside working in their yard, or just sitting in their yard.  I miss talking to the neighbor across the fence, or someone coming over for a coffee klatch, the telephone not ringing and when it does, the call is not for me, instead it is a sales call or telemarketing. I miss the times my phone rang everyday with someone wanting to talk to me, either about something or just to chit chat?  I guess that is what it's like when all your really close friends have moved away or yes, even passed away. I don't have a extended family or even family close by. My husbands brothers are not close by, the closest being 4 to 5 hours away. My brother does not keep in touch much, because of the type of work he does. No sisters or aunts, or even cousins that call, even though my cousins and I keep touch with face-book. (better then nothing) But it would sure be nice to hear a human voice or see a human face.
Ops, I have had two phone calls now, one right after another. One from California and one from Highmark, nope I didn't answer either one. As soon as I see the telephone number or the name of the business I know not to answer.

      On the lighter side, I put a call into a person selling Shitz Tu, or however you spell it. I left a message asking them to call and let me know if they still had any and the price. Well, I forgot about it and the phone rang with the lady calling about the little puppy, Ron just looked at me and said NO DOG - he said it twice -   Hmmm I'll have to think this over more carefully

    Please keep me in prayer for this Friday and the following week, it is my 5th Chemo treatment. Please pray for no serious side affects or complications - thank you for all the prayers you have already said and for the ones you are about to say - I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

God Bless   and a Happy and Safe 4th of July

Dee along with all of my other nicknames