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 |   My journey through (and beyond) the valley with Cancer as my companion. |
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Dear Friend: This is not a Blog about writing! (I already have one of those.) This is a blog about a journey I am taking with illness. I have recently been diagnosed with Cancer. My goal is honest therapy as I progress through, and beyond this new reality in my life. I hope that, somewhere along the way you will find some words that will help you too. While this is, in fact, an interactive Blog, I hope that you will scroll slowly down this page. For you see, the front of this Blog IS my journey. The entries are conversations that are held along the journey.Yes, there is a lot on it--before actually getting to the Blog entries. But, I hope that by the objects and words which appear before the Blog itself, you might come to understand just a little bit about me, and my journey, and some truly amazing friends who have agreed to journey with me. I hope that you, too, will choose to accompany me on my walk--through the Valley. I invite you to join me, and discover the wondrous truths, meet some truly amazing people, and share those "memorable" moments this journey will undoubtedly present. Come along, won't you? In His Care, ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Would you like to help me help others? I found this amazing organization, and I am proud to be a sponsor. I hope you will check it out. It's called The Network For Good.  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "RISUS OMNIA - INCRUMENTUS PER DEDECUS - SAPIENTIA PER DAMNUM" ("Every thing is funny - Growth through humiliation - Wisdom through loss") ~Leunig~ The hilltop hour would not be half so wonderful if there were no dark valleys to traverse. ~Helen Keller~ "If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people." ~Virginia Woolf~ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "There is strength in truth." ~The Barton Family Crest~ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** “Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.” — Helen Keller, American social activist, public speaker and author (1880-1968) I have moved the list of my thanks for those who have helped to make this little Blog so very special. I hope that you will take a moment to read the list, growing every day, and let these fellow travellers along this journey know that you appreciate the contributions they make to our walk together.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." James 1:2-4 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Please feel free to click on the Blog Rings icon below to be transported to some of the very best of the Best Bloggers around WDC. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** If you are new to WDC, or to our Blogging community, I highly recommend the monthly edition of "The Blogville News". Feel free to click below, and let scarlett_o_h know that a Blogger sent ya! Hey! We've started a Christian's Blog Ring on WDC. Click on the logo, and join us! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Budroe
 Ring LeaderI have three publications at the moment. Here is a link to purchase my latest one. Buy a great read, and help a fellow writer out, Okay?  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| ROME (AP) - "Luciano Pavarotti, whose vibrant high C's and ebullient showmanship made him one the most beloved tenors, has died, his manager told The Associated Press. He was 71. Pavarotti had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last year and underwent further treatment in August 2007." [Emphasis Mine] _________________________________________________________________________________ I listened to Enrico Caruso on "78's" as a child, and was told that there would never be another like him. There wasn't. Placido Domingo, Jose Carreras, and many others came close. But there was one who rose so far above even the greatest Aria ever sung by Caruso as to completely re-define that art form. I knew he was ill, and had been for some time. We never met. We did, however, share a love of music, and of the Tenoric Aria. He was the penultimate performer; I was the grateful listener. He did more to re-invigorate the modern-day love of the Opera than any person in the last Century, Caruso included. He was a completely common man, with one of the world's most uncommon gifts: the perfect voice. The stories of his gentle kindness, and selfless spirit abound. But, the story which will (at least for me) live into eternity is the first time he sang "Nessum Dorma" for the American public. That was an entirely creational moment. I was there. An entire crowd of more than 500,000 heard this largely unknown (in America) Italian guy, split the universe, rent like the temple veil. You have no idea, friend, what it is like to still thousands with nothing other than your raw voice. Not a baby cried. Traffic stopped, it seemed. The world, the entire world took a deep, gasping breath of utter shock, amazement, and unbridled awe. In less than five minutes, one man becameopera for generations, and for generations yet to come. After a relentless, twelve-minute plus Standing Ovation, the entire world fell in love with an Italian Insurance salesman, from the tiny town of Moderna, Italy. He had recently sung with his 90 year old-Father in the local Chorus But, he had to come to America! Did he ever! Opera was reborn before my eyes. I wept. There have been so few of those moments in our musical world. To have lived in that moment and to capture the heart of a nation in less than four minutes, under the baton of one of the world's finest conductors, was just incredible. Wherever he went, he was loved. He was a good man. His smile was gentle, and absolutely genuine. Among the sometimes-carrion eschewing musical stars, he was highly regarded. He was revered among opera lovers the world over. When, in many circles, you mentioned even the word Opera, the name Luciano Pavarotti immediately followed. I am not boasting when I tell you I have every recording I have ever been able to find of his work, legal or otherwise. I, strangely enough, was listening to a broadcast recording of that very concert this evening when the news came across my screen. There are few true legends in this world. There are even fewer heroes. Every great, rare, once in a while, we find both entrapped within one human frame. No wonder he was so given the gift of girth! Still, it was not enough to contain his greatness. Or his simplicity. Or his goodness. Or, to millions, the Voice of God-in a Tux. Today, the world lost both a legend born, and a hero lived. He now sings for His King. And it is very, very good. Soli Deo Gloria, Aeternam Luciano! Chao bella! In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| It's been one of those up and down days. Good and bad all around. There is something going on inside me that I'm not real sure about. I only know that I really don't like it at all. I know that this is all a learning process, and the journey has steps that must be taken. I find that taking them one at a time is, while not always the easiest thing to do, usually the best thing to do. I am reminded of the child who demanded his Grandmother make him a birthday cake, and to be quick about it! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The Grandmother casually got a tub of lard, and made the child eat a double helping. The child did not seem to appreciate the opportunity, and did not notice the Grandmother putting a dollop in a bowl. The lady brought flour from the cupboard. She filled a water glass with it, and forced the child to "drink" it. Again, the child seemed to miss the purpose of the lesson, but further failed to notice the lady putting two cups into the bowl. Item by item, the wise lady compelled the child to eat each ingredient as they went into the bowl. By the time all the ingredients were gathered, the child was much less hungry, much less demanding, and much less willing to look at anything resembling food. Sometimes, we do not appreciate the ingredients of our lives. Sometimes, they are quite nasty to the taste, or the touch, or the feelings in the heart. Some of the ingredients of my living today are quite distasteful to me. Some of them concern me. Some of them, to be quite honest, scare me. But, I do not know the recipe of my life. Only when the ingredients, carefully and lovingly gathered together by the One who always makes the perfect result, are combined, and prepared correctly is the recipe of my life complete. I remain a willing vessel. I have 10 willing fingers, and one willing heart. My body fails me in strange and sometimes quite distasteful ways. My mind is sometimes awash with distasteful thoughts. I find myself becoming incredibly angry. I'm told it's part of the journey. I can accept that, because I know where the journey ends. I trust the Baker, who is the Maker of all good and perfect things. If He hands me flour to drink, I will drink it. I wish I could drink it gladly. I'm still working on that part. I don't like where this journey has me right now. But, I know there is joy in the morning. And I look to that Sonrise with all the hopeful anticipation of a freshly, and perfectly baked cake. I hope you do, too. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| At 11:52PM (WDC time), the results of the efforts of more than 50 people, in less than 44 days, was born. "The Academy News" "hit the streets" tonight. 22 pages. That's a lot of copy. And, there's a lot of copy in there, too. I wanted to share it with you. Forgive me for a short post. I'm kinda tired. I started the "FINAL" on this puppy at 0422 and I'm a bit like an old rope what's been drug through the mud a mile or two. I'll see ya later on today. I hope you are having a supersplendiferous Labor Day weekend in the USA! In His Care, and Yours! Budroe
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| DWOAC:8 I would like to provide what I believe to be a necessary (a la John Becker, M. D.) public service to the writing community in general, and to new, young authors specifically. Tonight, I see it (again) on the front page of our community, and I must confess that it distracted me completely away from such orbit-shifting headlines as The Attorney General leaving the sink....umm, resigning, Owen Wilson's alleged suicide attempt this weekend, AND Hulk Hogan's son wrapping his yellow sportscar around a Florida Palm tree (now, there is an expensive wreck. Those trees go for more per foot than a telephone pole!) If you cannot find something, friends, you lose it. That is to say, it has been lost. If something is uncomfortably tight, you make it loose. Which is to say, you loosen it. Please learn, and correctly use these two terms. The community thanks you, I thank you, and I would even suspect that it is entirely probable that the Attorney General thanks you. Well, now that he has "resigned" his office, I suppose he is "on the loose", so to speak. Boy, I hope we don't lose him amongst all those scurrying to leave the proximity of the impeachment hearings. Thank you for your time. We now return you to the chaos. Woops, a note; a word. Later today, I am going to be meeting some WDC friends for the first time. The CEO of the A-1 Writing Academy and her husband will be visiting my little house. We will have lunch. We will probably kibbitz a bit. We will discuss Academy business, and the future. We might even laugh a bit. I look very much forward to this meeting of a new friend, and her husband. More this evening. In His Care, and Yours! Bud |
| In his weekly NPR Journal this week, Bill Moyer had a very interesting take on the News. You have been reading, I presume, about the latest takeover by the Mogul himself of the major newspaper of the United States? You know, the guy who says he only wants to bring the news the President wants reported? On Television (He owns the Fox News Network) and in ALL of his broadcast outlets (Television, radio, etc. ) and newsprint? Today, and next week, my favorite comic strip "Bloom County" is being pulled in all of his newspapers. (And, others.) Why? Because there is a story line currently running with characters Steve Dallas (of late, being depicted as being gay) and character Lola Granola, who is being depicted as a newly converted Muslim woman. Don't miss the point here. 283 newspapers are NOT running this cartoon because one man says it is offensive. In that very same light, news is being printed based upon what one man says is newsworthy. Why is it that, nearly two years (on the 29th) after the fact, we hear absolutely nothing about the nearly untouched ravages of Hurricane Katrina upon the Gulf Coast, or the continuing degradation of the people and the city of New Orleans? Why is it that we do not receive, any longer, information regarding the wounded and dead of our heroes in Iraq, Afghanistan, or Eastern Europe, where terrorism is having an absolute field day? Turn on your local FM radio station, and tell me what local news you hear. You most probably won't hear any at all. The vast majority of FM radio is programmed by five major players...umm, owned by one individual. The removal of capitalism in America is nearly complete. The elimination of America's middle class is nearly complete. The advancement of the model now known as "Corporatism" has very nearly landed dead center. Who needs news, or opinion, or local interaction with Journalism of any sort? It is entirely possible you are missing my point entirely. But, perhaps that is because it is not being reported in the news. When we are told what to hear, how far is it to being told what to believe? Or, perhaps even what to laugh at. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| Of those terms, which one lit your interest? Tell the truth! The National Government of Australia thought so, too. So, in the name of public protection of their valuable children, the national government contracted with a private concern to create an internet porn filter which would be available to every parent with a teenager who had access to the internet in the home. I mean, after all, if this isn't a prime example of the government responding to the needs of it's citizens in a time of great confusion, stress, and concern about what innocent teenagers could accidentally wind up in the middle of during an internet search, well I just don't know what is! So, the national government purchased, for $84 Million, just such an internet porn filter which could readily be applied to any ISP. When activated, an icon appears on the screen which shows the filter to be active. Parents can breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that their teens are safely ensconced in a private playground where only happy and good and decent and acceptable peo......but, wait. It seems the company who was paid for this amazing product told the national government before accepting the contract, during the design, testing, and implementation, and after subscriptions began accumulating at an alarming rate...that the system would not work. The national government, however, already head over mouth into this proposal, having sold the safety and security of it to a large number of Australia's tax-paying citizens, wasn't in the mood to hear of any problems like: it doesn't work. Recently, 15 year-old Tom Wood, "a year ten student", has cracked the federal government's porn filter in such a way as to keep the icon showing active on the screen, while completely by-passing the filter all together. He created the bypass program in, umm, less than 30 minutes. For free. The Australian communications minister (who knew?), Helen Coonan said "the government anticipated that some internet savvy person could eventually circumvent the system". Okay, all right. A teen cracked and completely incapacitated an $84 Million system, in less than 30 minutes, for free, Minister. I'm just not quite certain which perspective of this story is more utterly ridiculous. Truly. Read about it here: http://www.newlaunches.com/archives/australian_teenager_cracks_84million_interne... Could we, perhaps, spend just a moment considering another possibility? Surely, there has GOT to be a workable solution to this dilemma. How can we possibly protect our innocent children from the terrible dangers of the Internet? Hmmmm....Well, we could....no, nevermind, that won't work. What if we were to t......can't do it. Abuse, reports, social services, court, parole.... How about.....Oh, how cruel! Don't even think it! Of course, now with the innovations of the cell phone, we don't even NEED computers to....Oh, nevermind. That won't work, either. $84 Million. Dollars, y'all. How many plugs could you pull out of a wall for $84 Million in cold, hard cash? Would that kind of money get you talking to your teen? I mean, I know it's an expensive proposition when you are talking to the one person in your house who does, in fact, know everything, but, I'm just sayin'... My kids knew that if I ever caught them on a website they would be ashamed to show me, I'd slap 'em so hard they'd wake up with their clothes outa style! I had the perfect internet porn protection device known to man. My kids were terrified of the old man! My youngest daughter had a friend come over, and showed her a site one time. My daughter broke out in a sweat (true story) and pulled the computer plug outa the wall, made her friend leave, and disinfected her entire computer. With Lysol! It took a couple of days, but she came and we talked about what had happened. The friend never came back. Not because it wasn't permitted, but because my daughter just never wanted to experience that kind of fear again. Yeah, well. I think my way worked. And, I can guarantee you, it worked better than that $84 Million, 30-minute hack job. My kids knew something the government of Australia evidently has either never known, or forgotten: Parents teach morality, not government. I could have told them that and saved 'em $83 Million! Well, hey, after all. Successful programs are worth something...right? In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| DWOAC:6 Well, one of my friends along this journey has gifted me with a new signature, which I find strangely alluring. Sometimes, artists capture the very essence of a truth in their magnificent work, which silently speaks to the ages. Sometimes. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Thanks to my knowing friend, welkerdeb for thinking of me in such a way; it means so much!  (Hey, he may not be so totally sexy, but ya gotta love his message!)And thanks to terryjroo for the very special and "unique" creation from "Invalid Item" .He will go into my signature rotation, and if anybody picks on him, I'll...well, I'll do something!! "Laughter doeth good, as a medicine..." In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| DWOAC:5 I am so hesitant to write this, it isn't funny. We people "of the hills" are not only a curiously "clannish" bunch (true to our history), but we are, by nature, very superstitious. It is funny that outsiders (out-landers, or "Flat-landers") find much humor in our carefully measured speech, and ways--while revering our midwifery, our faith (and our faithfulness), our marksmanship, our crafts, our traditional folk medicines, and the wisdom of our elders (ancients). But, it is (at least, for the most part) an acceptable dichotomy. Ours is not the only community "in conflict" with an "outside world" culture, after all. Accomodations can be made, when fundamental beliefs are not threatened, or core values are not attacked. You who are not "of the hill people", and those of us who have lived so much of our lives away from the home and hearth of kith and kin, tend to "fog up" what would otherwise be clearly defined limits in today's world. Even when we know better, we allow margins, and wide borders, and even invite willingly "the grey space" between Black and White. We do so at our own peril personally, and culturally. It is first a cultural statement which says that we must first stand for something, or we are rightly condemned to fall for anything. I can no more ever be something other than a Hillbilly than a goat can fly. There are things which, regardless of your view of the world, and how you relate within or to that view, have absolutley no jurisdiction whatsoever in the world of my people, or of my life. It may be completely honorable in your world to question a man's loyalty, or his honesty, or his fidelity. In my world, the merest mention of such a question is absolute grounds for a blood feud, extending into the layers of your generations as far as can be found. You may believe me when I tell you that, in my personal family history, the art of the feud extends back to the founding of this country itself. You refer to them as "Feuds". Doing so tells us that you have absolutely no idea of what you speak. They were (and are) Wars, and they are generally private matters not spoken of in genteel and polite company. There are many such conflicts between the people of my heritage that cannot be written about to this day, because original members of the conflict (or their progeny) still live. To speak of them is to bring them back to life, and when a matter is settled, it is considered final, closed, done, and finished. You may have heard of a few of these more infamous wars, but you surely know nothing of them. To my people, however, they are the history of our culture. Our children learn of them, and the most important lessons they teach as some children learn dates, and times, and places. With our children, however, it is not taught as the War between the States. In many corners of our world, it is referred to as "the recent unpleasantness." When mountain children do actually get to learn of their own familial heritage, it is not, to embarassingly coin a completely vile phrase about "The Hatfields" OR the "McCoys". It is about "the war between your great-uncle Paul's kinfolk, and his second cousin on his mother's side, Jessie, and their people." There are many such wars (too numerous to mention, in fact--not to mention very bad form in public) which grace the legacies of my people. And, you can believe me when I tell you that they have not all been started because of a tarnished reputation, or the unlawful taking of a man's mule (but some of them have). One of the most famous mountain wars of all times began because of a look one man gave another. A man questioned, publicly (not in the newspapers, mind you; just within hearing of another) one man's intentions. Wars are begun because of perceived wrongs done. We are quick to defend a friend, slow to anger, and loathe to wrath. We are loyal unto death to our families, and our friends. We do not pick our friends for a season, but for generations. We trust everyone we meet, because we just never had so many people we should not trust. If you give us reason to question that which we have freely given you, it is very likely we will take it back from you and you will never see it again: trust, friendship, love, fidelity, honor, respect, or even acknowledgement of your existence. After all, lest you forget, the German Brethren borrowed the concept of "shunning" from us. (Or at least that's the way one of their most accepted historical writings has it.) We do not "get married". We "extend families". We do not have friends "for a season". We do not have "acquaintences", or "social networks".  Our relationships are made for life. To break a relationship is, without doubt, the most difficult thing that one of my people can do. "I break with thee!" is all it takes to end a relationship amongst people "of the hills". A family, a friendship, a marriage, a life. It is final, and without appeal. Only the speaker of those words can retract them, and due diligence for the pain caused by them must be rendered, by both parties. Needless to say, many of our most famous (or infamous) wars have begun with those four words. Even among my people, who would look at me with outrage and scorn for even mentioning these things; who believe that I am "of the hill people" about as much as a man can say he is a truck, simply because he stands in a garage, I am still "of the hill people". It is a legacy that time, distance, nor life itself can undo. Things which matter to me matter much. Not so many things matter to me. But, there are some things which matter--much. Having friends in life matters much. Having friends, to me, in life means having friends for life. When you are called upon this particular journey, it is sometimes the only beacon of hope, or comfort that can grace your vision: the word of a friend. That is, after all, how we "see" here, isn't it? It may not matter so much in your world, after all. I could never live in your world were that true. My world is not for everybody, and I know that. I'm just sayin'... Thanks. Now, hopefully, you'll know just a little bit about the "why" of it. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| It's just lil ole me, checking in. Hello, friends. Thank you to those who asked about my whereabouts, and my general condition. I do appreciate it very much. There is much to report, but absolutely none of it good, and what there would be to report is nothing but rehash of tired old subjects that, suddenly, just seem never to change. People tell me that they are shying away from my Blog because it is: Too Personal Too Private Too Depressing Too Sad or Just plain old Too Much to deal with. Okay. My writing is mandatory. For so long as I am able, capable, and willing, I will write as honestly in this Blog as I know how. That's how it started. That is why it started. That is how it will continue until I cannot contribute to it any further. Your reading of these words is entirely discretionary. It is, by no means, required reading on anyone's part. I am saddened that I cannot seem to keep up with the Blogs of my dearest friends here, because of other things which are, for the moment, much closer to the front of my plate. It is not that I do not want to read, and share in your world and words, friends. It has gotten, quite frankly, to the point that the times I am able to share with your words, and leave a comment, is the only time you respond here for the most part. That's not how it should be, and that is not how I wanted it to be. I must clearly understand at a very important cross-roads on this journey, just exactly what this little Blog is about. Or, I must close it. If it is an honest reflection of the world in which I am living, from day to day, and I can honestly and honorably detail those experiences which make the day significant--then it stays. If, however, this is about being (well, you know...) something for someone else, I'm truly just not interested. This blog has brought me so very much good, in so many real, and very important ways. I have found real friends here, who seem to genuinely care for, and about, and with me. It's a Blog about a journey--through the valley--with Cancer as my companion. Umm, can't much change that scenario, pals n gals. I hope it leaves a little room for beyond the valley, too. But I'm not much in favor of writing to an audience, or an expectation in this most private of lives. I share it because it is, for me, helpful therapy. Your comments, and your contributions have made this little Blog something quite special, indeed. And, I am just SO grateful that Dad lets us play together here, on the journey. But, when I tell you I don't feel good, I don't. When I tell you I am afraid, I am. When I tell you that I'm facing some terribly difficult times, I am. When I tell you that today, well, today is pretty good, it is. I have absolutely no sense of obligation to prove it, justify it, or qualify it. If you want testimony, serve a warrant. This is a journey amongst friends. Don't pick on me, because I'll get so Hillbilly so quick, you just will NOT believe it. In fact, there are only a couple of things that can get me started quicker: Pick on my Friends. Pick on my Dad. When you read, its nice to leave a footprint just a something to let me know you were by. It means a lot to me, and especially when I am having such a difficult time with so many things, like getting to leave a footprint where your blog lives. It means you were here because you wanted to be, and not out of a sense of obligation, return, or favor. I can't escape my reality. I really have no desire to, if you would like to know the truth. If you cannot bring yourself to love me where I am, as I am, I fully and completely understand that; it's wonderfully okay. Just do me a favor, won't you? Don't spill it all over my Blog, or the Blogs of my friends, tellin' me or us why you just can't visit, or share, or care. It brings *(regardless of what you truly think about it)* purely unnecessary sadness to this author. Bring it to my friends' Blog, and I promise ya: I'll get ugly. I love you folks, and I wish I could show you how much. I've been accused recently of things that have been hurtfully intended. That's okay. Listen, I'm a big boy; I can take it. I don't have to like it, or respond to it, or (as I unwittingly did) unintentionally harm myself in responding to what was a pure, 100% setup by someone with a truly despicable ulterior motive. But, hey. Even I can goof it up every once in a while. And, rest assured, I will. And, I'll probably do it with such aplomb that you cannot possibly doubt that it was done, that I did it, or that it was an amazing display of how to truly mess up! (I'm good that way, promise). But, you see, this journey is a journey about being. Being me, being in pain, being in joyful celebration, of being alive, and yes, of being ill, too. It is a journey of sharing the joys and sadness of this disease, a system that could not possibly care less, of a situation so absolutely out of my control that I am fast and certain becoming lost in it, and will soon be lost entirely for a while. But, that IS the journey. It is my journey, and a journey I cannot escape. It is only your journey by choice, my friend. You are under no obligation to me, for anything whatsoever. You have no debt. Not to me. I promised this would be an honest journey, and I am going to see that, so long as I can have any control over it, this journey remains honest no matter how painful to me, or to anyone else. When you are called to be on this journey, honesty is the only true measure of your living, friend. What was is of no consequence. What will be is of no matter, whatsoever. What IS, is. I am saddened to know that the honesty this journey requires is more than some can muster. I am sorry to say that I completely understand that: sometimes this journey requires more honesty than I can muster, too. But, if you wish to understand this journey from the soles of my feet, you just have to accept my telling of it. I'm not looking for agreement, or cheers of approval, or (well, you know....). I want to know why my dear friend, who has never done anything to anyone, must be struck by a drunk driver in the middle of the morning, and very nearly lose her life; losing her leg in the process? I want to know why this entire ordeal must result in my losing every single independent thought or act or deed of my entire life? It seems a fair question, at least on the face of it. I want to know why I must constantly find myself attempting to make someone else feel better about my journey, when that's really not what i want to do at all! I want to know why this moment exists, and how it is that I can do absolutely nothing to change it, avoid it, or feel less pain because of it. That's a little about what I want. Turn away if you will, I understand. You are entirely within your individual rights to do so. I applaud your intestinal fortitude to do such a thing. You turn away, walk away, and go away. If that is your honesty. I cannot. That's perfectly alright with me, too. My Dad has me right where it is that I need to be. No, I do NOT understand it, like it, appreciate it, or approve of it. Umm, I wasn't given but one vote, kids. "In", or "Out"? I chose in, no matter what. At least I was honest about that. "In" His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| Well, my story was one of 67 entries. I was pleased to see the winning entries, because all three places were taken by A-1 Academy students or staff! I think that is just terrific! I don't know where "Message" came in, but it was at least fourth place. My heartfelt congratulations to some extremely talented writers who deserved their awards and recognition. The contest will remain as a highlight in my recent days. I also happen to like this story, and believe it is a good one. I urge you to stop by the announcement of the winners, and read their outstanding stories. I think you will agree with me that this competition, for some reason, got way out of hand with experts! There really was a large number of very, very good entries. It does WDC proud to have such quality submissions. We all benefit, I think, from the examples these fine writers have displayed. Invalid Item will have a life of its own someday, I think. I know that's why the words came out of my fingers, any way. That is sufficient for me. The contest itself (not this one, just the idea of contests, period) can be a real opportunity (or kick in the rear) for our writers to do their very best work. I think, regardless of any other issues which may exist, this is a direct benefit to us all. I am grateful for the opportunity to have a story worthy of consideration. Who knows, there may be another one someday. For now, things move on. Thank you for the wonderful comments and reviews to all who took the time to care enough to give me their best input. The story is better for it. I am a better writer for it. And, lest we forget, that IS the reason most of us showed up around here in the first place. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
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