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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 ** |
| Two little words. Is there any combination of letters that bring more joy to the heart of a writer? Those final two words were birthed, this day, at 0247. 103,508 words, and 429 pages into "Notre Dame". The editing now skips happily to a lady who believes that the Blue Pen IS mightier than the sword. Thinking about the task in front of her, my mind suddenly warps. She has scheduled a week for this project. Intimately familiar with the work, she knows what I want to say. She knows how I want to say it...and that may be significantly problematic to her. So, will she line edit? Will she need to? Boy, Howdy, I hope she doesn't--because she doesn't have to. Will she plot-arc the book? Do all the strands tie up as nicely as I believe they do, for her? That would be nice. So, why am I suddenly aware that I have no Aspirin in the little place I call home, huh? Or, will she throw a ream of paper in the general direction of her Dog, or perhaps her Rhododendron in total frustration? Will she "buy into" the work? Will she like it? I do truly hope she genuinely loves it, to be quite honest. I know that, for many months now, she has been the first believer in the book. That says a lot to me. Trust me when I tell you my Editor KNOWS good. She also believes that I do NOT know good, which is just peachy with her. "Shut up and go away! I'll tell you if it's good. Now give me the damned manuscript, before somebody gets hurt!" What does one do with that? Anger for the task at hand, yet the seeming rush to read? The process picks up momentum now. A new phase of what is fast becoming the never-ending cycle begins. Her famous words to me? "Where are you with the second--and third books? They are negotiating a series, you know. Don't you have something you should be doing now?" Yeah, well. I gotta headache. I can't find my sox. I want to bask for a minute. I want to sleep for a week. I want a contract signed that needs commas in the amount box. So who asked me what I wanted? I mean, after all, I'm just the author! Where do I get off?? I like this one...a lot. I really do. I hope she will. I hope that you will, too. Anybody got an Aspirin? In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| I have pulled an "all nighter", and worked with about 5 hours sleep in the last two days to meet the editing deadline. Fortunately for my Editor, and unfortunately for me, I have four chapters left, and this puppy is out of my hands till the galleys come back. That sure is a hard way to measure progress. But it is progress. I'm gonna finish the edit, and crash. I'll be human again at some point tomorrow. Play nice in the mean time. By the way, Kenzie   correctly guessed the date for the completion of the current series in the "Pull Up A Stone" file, and took my GP! Good work, Kenzie!In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| When I was but a tender lad (Oh, I was, too!), one of my marketable skills was the creation of both believable and palatable excuses for not turning in homework. Little did I know that these "gems" were of such merit that they were codified, and passed along to each new teacher I had. From the first grade (Mrs. Willoughby) to my last Senior Final in High School (Spanish II, Mrs. Brashear), a list was compiled. I wondered what the uber-intelligent of the younger set were using these days, and I found this contest:
I was asked, and agreed to be a Judge. Now, surely that should be getting your memory and the creative juices flowing! Check it out. It is an RAOK event, and also benefits Walt's Minions. It should be fun. Do you have a story about your most (or least) successful excuse for not turning in your homework? I mean, for those who HAD homework... In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| Wow! I got some writing done. At 0330 this morning, the MicroSoft Server I've been waiting on finally got back online. That meant that I spent the next few HOURS downloading, back onto my local server, the final rough of "Notre Dame". 20 Chapters left until "The End". Next week will be a good thing. I go through the Blogs, and am so very proud of myself because I turned all the Blue links to black. YAY! BudroeBunny even came along for a bit, but got lost in the transfer-thing somewhere along the way. As I said, he seems to have certain character traits that may not be positively disposed to socialization skills. Rumor has it, he dang-near left a few "interesting" Bunny tracks (in the form of bummyraddit raisins) on a couple of Blogs. But, I was able to squelch that notion at the last minute. Now, all the links are Blue again! <sigh> If that ain't just like washin' dishes, what is? Rakin' leaves has more longevity than the Blogs. Remember that Daylight Savings Time begins early this year. You need to check to make sure that your system will accept the date changes peacefully. For you "real" computer users, you can download the update called tzmove.exe from the MicroSoft update site. For you toy users, you have no problem. If you are using Vista, you deserve what you get! Actually, Vista was already loaded with the fix. Now, if they could just fix Vista. Yeah, sure. I'll be sure and run right out and check on that--in about three years! Thank you for taking the time to check out my latest work. I do appreciate it very much. I also hope you will stop by and take a look at my "Thanks and Thanksgiving" page, too. There have been some rather remarkable additions so far this month. I was asked, and have agreed to judge a contest which runs through March, 2007. This will be my first incursion into that particular activity on WDC, and I have absolutely NO idea what I said "Yes" to, or what I am expected to do. Anybody want to throw me some suggestions? (That do not include traumatic re-distribution of my personal body parts, that is....) I'll post the particulars on the event in a future blog entry. Right now, the book is calling, and I am just so very far behind on my work with it. My Editor has been shopping for long rifles on eBay, for some reason. I'm concerned...very concerned. In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| Well, friends, I just put talk number 5 underneath the stone. It's not so much that I'm in an all-fired hurry with these little messages. I'm just on a bit of a timeline, and I'm quite very much behind. The frustration is getting to me! (Evidently one of the major names of my muse IS frustration, it would seem!) But, really there IS a timeline for this particular series. Anybody care to wager 500 GP on my anticipated finish date for this particular series? Get it right, and you win 500 of my horded GP's. Get it wrong...well, I got an empty pocket somewhere! First correct date takes the GP.I hope you will forgive this shameless plug, and take a look under the stone. I'd be interested in knowing what you think. Pull up a stone. Can we talk? CAUTION: This one has an assignment! No, I mean a REAL assignment. 
In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
WARNING: EXTREME rant, filled with personal opinion—directly ahead! In the 1970’s, I was a returning Combat Medic with an opportunity. I was about to get, in fact, the opportunity of a lifetime. In the military, there are certain assignments that are considered to be very preferable. Within the medical community, and especially within the medical community of the United States Army, for instance, the gateway to the choicest assignments for military personnel was the Medical Services Institute at Fort Sam Houston, Texas. “Fort Sam” was the brass ring for medical personnel, and I was going to school there. This wasn’t merely a choice military assignment. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Those who graduated from school at Fort Sam tended to get really good permanent duty assignments. Graduating was by no means guaranteed. The drop out rate was in excess of 75 percent. There was a pecking order of graduates. Where students were assigned, upon graduation, was considered to be a signal of not only their performance in school, but also their likelihood of career success in their field. The lower percentage graduates would find themselves working at medical companies, or Mobile Army Surgical Hospitals (MASH) somewhere in the Medical Command. This assignment was, in itself, a very good assignment for medical staff. The mid-range graduates could look forward to permanent duty assignment at a hospital located at major army bases either within the Continental United States (CONUS), or at major medical locations at facilities around the world. Not only were the assignments choice, but so were the living accommodations, eating facilities, and duty assignments themselves among the very best in the military. This was, in fact, the very best of both worlds. Personnel assigned to these facilities tended not to have to figure out how to separate their bodies from rivers of mud, for instance. Very seldom (perhaps once per year) would personnel have to consider just what a Physical Training Uniform even looked like, much less felt like when worn. Medical Facility Mess Halls did not tend to serve cold food, or stale food. Barracks generally did not exist in the older, World War II “T-Building” (Temporary) configuration. Ours were the newer, brick “Dormitory” type structures. These are very significant advantages while serving one’s nation. There wasn't a lot of bullets, bombs, or Napalm flyin' in your area of operation, ya see. We knew it, and worked very, very hard to always remain worthy of them. To the top percentile, there were assignments available within a very select universe of shining stars: Tripler Army Medical Center (TAMC), Letterman Army Medical Center (LAMC), Fitzsimons Army Medical Center “The Lady” (FAMC), and—at the very top, Walter Reed Army Medical Center (WRAMC-pronounced “Ram C”) or, as it was known within the service, “Walter Wonderful”. There was one more assignment which was available to the top 1% of graduates, but no one ever even considered that to be possible. Those invited to this assignment were considered to have their careers confirmed by the military gods. If you were “invited” to an assignment at Brooke Army Medical Center (BAMC)http://www.bamc.amedd.army.mil/, you would live among the gods of Fort Sam Houston itself. And, as everyone would readily admit, the Gods live in San Antonio, Texas. This was a reward/recognition assignment, given to the top school graduates within the military medical community. These graduates were accepted to BAMC for the purpose of becoming the future instructors, where life was good, your assignment was assured for your career, and the sky was, in fact, the limit. In fact, BAMC was known unofficially as “The Retirement Community” within the Army Medical personnel. WRAMC was known as “The Brass Ring”, and FAMC was known as “The Country Club”. Assignment to BAMC tended to be truly permanent, while an assignment to WRAMC could be permanent, based upon performance and needs of the military. One did not expect a career at FAMC, but like a good country club, the best made the rounds there, and Fitz was the preferred “last” assignment in an Army medical career, because of the very large, very strong, and very blessed retirement community in the area. Do not be confused. Assignment to these posts was not only a privilege, but an expectation. Only the very best and brightest were posted to these facilities. These locations represented the future of military medicine. Research, Education, and Specialization skills were honed here, to a gleaming luster. The work was extremely intense, and you had better believe that competition was the first reality. Those Service Members posted to these communities had made a statement in just getting them. Keeping them was an entirely different matter. The schooling was never-ending. The skills being demonstrated in the current combat theatres around the world were invented, developed, taught, and codified here. Positions only became available by retirement, transfer (usually to a better assignment, incidentally), or death. Every post had its own peculiarities, and newly assigned personnel were carefully inculcated into each post culture. It may have been the way things were done at your last assignment, but you aren’t there any more. Learn, or leave. Publish, or perish. Medically, professionally, and educationally, these WERE the very best assignments in the army medical community. The quality of medical care, and of the facilities themselves, reflected this reality. These were the shining stars of the military medical community, filled with the shining stars of their own medical specialty. My education, military service, my “Fruit Salad”, and one very lucky break got me to Fort Sam. My grades kept me there for three years after completing school. I was privileged to do temporary duty assignments at each of the brightest stars in the medical constellation, including a nine-month tour at WRAMC in addition to my Instructor duties in San Antonio. I am not entirely bragging here, but it is a record of service of which I am proud. These are assignments that I am proud to have served, with people that I am very proud and grateful to have known. My service was cut a few years short, and I was medically retired at FAMC. I then continued in service there as a civilian contract employee for an additional 16 years, until the facility was de-commissioned by the U S Army in June of 1996. In fact, the last facility Commander (a now-retired LTG) and his wife are two of the dearest friends of this Blog. They are also two of my dearest treasures on this Earth, and nothing compares to the privilege I have in calling them my friends. How did we get from that reality to the current headlines? In the first place, that was the time that was. There is nothing more over than those good old days. But, those WERE the good old days. The very best and finest products of the military medical community served proudly, with the highest honor and distinction. Active duty, retired and dependent recipients knew, without doubt, they received the truth of our combined motto: “The BEST Care—Anywhere!” The most absurd statement I have heard lately comes from the former (2 time, mind you) Commander of WRAMC who, yesterday, said “We didn’t know!” Words cannot express the absolute disgust I feel. When the Base Re-Alignment and Closure Commission (BRACC) held it’s final committee meeting to determine what would become the closure date for FAMC, one of the commission members, Commissioner Davis, was asked by one of the audience (I know not who—yeah, uh huh), “What about the hundreds of thousands of active duty and retired veterans in the twelve state service area we serve? What do we say to them?” Commissioner Davis replied, “Hell, Son. This Commission’s been betrayin'and lying to our Veterans since the day we began this deal. Let’s vote!” And, in the space of three minutes, 97 years of committed, top-flight medical history was summarily executed. Tri-Care was a reality we were going to have to live with. One Army Medical Center Commander, when asked about Tri-Care as a replacement for the entirely successful CHAMPUS (Military Medical Insurance) program, said, “When Tri-Care comes to your town, you can expect there to be blood flowing in the streets. When it comes here, I will be leading the armed assault against it!” Every year since 1980, the costs of providing medical care to the military have increased. Every year since 1980, the funds provided for providing medical care to the military community has decreased. In the current administration budget, an additional 187.6 million dollars was diverted to other considerations, leaving the military medical care provisions requested some $2.2 Billion short. Services have been cut to active duty members and families. Retirees are all but forgotten—their spouses and families absolutely are forgotten. Veterans are at the bottom of the list. The money isn’t there, because the intent isn’t there. One story is told of a staff sergeant who, when wounded in Iraq, was told that his medical disability was being denied because the brain damage he suffered in combat from an exploding IED was ‘pre-existing’ and, therefore, denied. His wife spoke with the medical facility commander three times. She was consistently told that the Service Member was “out of luck”. The same military commander who lives across the street from Building 18 at “Walter Wonderful”. The same commander who told this distraught wife the “sad news” two weeks before his retirement ceremony. The same commander who told a Congressional Committee FRIDAY, “We didn’t know." Perhaps losing his stars, and gaining three stripes, losing his retirement, his pension, and his perpetual medical benefits--FOR LIFE--would provide the obvious shock therapy this poor soul requires to break through the combat fatigue—excuse me, the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder…damn, I mean the pre-existing condition (it’s been a while since I dealt with diagnoses, excuse me!). Then perhaps we could help this struggling Service Member have the mental breakthrough he so desperately needs, and he will recall any one of the 27 years’ worth of purposeful, malicious, and completely disingenuous destruction of what once was a brilliant constellation in the military universe. This President is, in my view, the leading traitor in this institutionalized travesty. For the past seven budgets, his support of our troops has been shown by the consistent refusal to request even the minimum medical provision requirements of our nation’s heroes. I’m not talking about the other deceitful actions by his administration to remove housing, deny educational benefits, eliminate retirement benefits, or the plethora of other meaningful demonstrations of his support for our troops. This one alone is sufficient for his complete undoing. The Congress which he has single-handedly commandeered to his bidding for the past seven years are co-conspirators in a purposeful, malicious attack on those who defend his freedom every day. Vice President Cheney was quoted this morning as having said, “No Excuses—Only Action!” He said it only days after learning of a condition where blood clots are forming in his legs from—guess where? He didn’t know, either. How is it that people call this man President? How can anyone look at his actions, and not see the absolute tyranny of his words? One soldier’s wife, in a three year struggle to get her beloved husband the care he so desperately needs, and incidentally, DESERVES, refused to shut up. Three visits to a guy who “didn’t know” led nowhere. One three hour interview with a newspaper reporter has commanders getting keelhauled, an Army Secretary sacrificially hoisted upon his own petard, a Vice-President seriously announcin’ to the FREAKIN’ American Legion! “No Excuses” GRRRRRRRRRRR! For those of you who would say to me that my speaking of these things, in these terms, is unpatriotic, or is nothing more than assisting our enemy in the War On Terror...BITE ME! I get to speak about it! I've earned the right to speak about it. So sit down, buckle up, hang on, and SHUUUTTT UPPPP! And a President, in shock, promises to “look into the mold on the walls” at Walter Wonderful. The Commander lives across the street, Mr. President. You out-rank him. Send HIM across the street! He might learn something. Yeah, we might learn something, too. Mold takes time to grow, y’all. YEARS. And, at Walter Wonderful, every dollar matters. Bethesda Naval Hospital is right down the street, y’all. The military folks of all branches receive their service at WRAMC. BNH is kinda like, what you’d call, “Reserved” for the 435 members of the House of Representatives, the 100 Members of the Senate, and the Executive Office of the President—and their families—FOR LIFE! But then, I guess that makes sense. After all, if there was ever living proof of brain damage bein’ a pre-existin’ condition…. So long, Walter. It was really nice knowin’ ya. If for one minute there is one person reading this who believes anything else about this entire affair, you do truly need to consider having your head examined! Good luck with that. My apologies for seeming so "out of character". My natural tendencies of genteel demeanor seem to have been lost somewhere in the mire of my unwillingness to allow this incredulous treason to continue without at least one citizen speaking for the thousands of "pre-existing" conditions who just plain know better, for the hundreds of thousands of heroes who daily feel the first stings of betrayal, and for the millions of veterans who can find no voice to speak for them. (Wow! Now, THAT's a sentence!) Okay, I'm all better now. Ooooooommmmmmmmmmm.... I'm gettin' a headache. uht oh.... In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| It's not even over yet. It has barely begun, in fact! First comes the good stuff that has so far filled the basket of my happy little world. There has been an addition to my page of Thanks, and Thanksgiving. I received a very special gift this day. A fuzzy little Bunny hopped into my world, created by AntiBarbie . He is a very special gift from a very special friend along this journey, gardengirl ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** He will be hopping around Blogsville for the next few days, visiting (with me) a few Blogs that make my world a better place. If you should happen to see his footprints in your Blog, do not be afraid. He really is a very friendly little guy. His name is BudroeBunny, and he just brings rainbows of happiness wherever he goes. Well, mostly...there are a few places where he, like other special BummyRaddits, has to leave "special" gifts for "special" friends along the journey, too. <Looking furtively toward Bunny> It does seem as though he does, however, display certain attitude traits that we are going to have to work on. But, he's harmless. No, Really!  Today was also another first. As many would immediately suspect, I received my first ever 1.0 rating--from a newbie. I can tell you that it was a personal shock, and a personal revelation. I fought most, but not quite all of my immediate reactions. Man, I thought I went over the top with a 3.0! HA! There was a LOT of top left to go over. (If anyone should happen upon my Brain--I mean, it has to leave orbit at some point, right?) I then visited the port of this person, and found one piece which, for various and sundry reasons, I read, but did not rate. I did respond to the Review. I hope my response was at least more respectful than I felt the Review to be. That will be a very close call, and will probably depend on the way the coin falls. Everything that I would say to someone who tells me this, I have already told myself. Most of the things that I would tell someone else NOT to say, or do, or think, I didn't. Almost. Just ignore that warm orange glow slowly rising just over the horizon. It's fog. Yeah, fog. That's what it is. Nothing NUCULAR about it, eh Dub? Yeah, that's the ticket! Two down, one to go with "The Chasm" talks. The edits are not quite complete yet, but the work is there anyway. I've gone back through the series so far from the beginning. The first essay has undergone major edits, and one more pass will cover it. Because I still cannot access the remaining chapters of "Notre Dame" yet (waiting on MS to fix a blown server, would you believe?), I'm editing like crazy inside the port. For those of you who have silently prayed for just such a miracle, rejoice! Done for today, I will spend my remaining time dealing with eMail, and visiting the Blogs. I hope you can have a legendary day today. I know I have. In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| It's been quite a challenge lately. But, at least for today, it was a very special gift. I took nighttime meds early last evening, and was ready for bed well before my usual time. It was, for at least one amazing moment, a very difficult decision to make for me. I couldn't seem to give myself permission to go to bed so early. Who leaves work 1/2 day early, only to crawl into bed and snore the cover off the ceiling lights? There was so much work left to be done, even for the one day. You don't just turn your back on these kinds of responsibilities, just to go to sleep, do you? Fortunately for me, the medications help make that decision. I just have to decide which twenty minutes I want to use, waiting for them to take fullest effect. Last night, I chose early rather than late. It was novel, and if nothing else I would get to have a new and different experience. I did, for sure. Going to bed "in the middle of the day" (before midnight) for me was more vulgar than a two-week Hawaiian vacation. I missed every moment of it, and awoke at 10:45 this morning. More than eleven hours of sleep, that did not even require a mid-sleep "trip" to the bathroom, was a pure blessing. When I awoke, it was the slow, lazy kind of awakening. You know, the kind where you just occasionally look at the clock a few times, seeing the time move forward, and go "Wow!" ? That was this morning. About 3PM, I was getting really tired of the "drugged" feeling I had been fighting through all day. I thought a nap might just be the ticket. I woke up about fifteen minutes ago. I feel rested. But, I could go back for another round with little difficulty. So, is it the power of the drugs, or the need for rest, or a combination of both? I'm very mellow at the moment. I do not know which, or what percentage of each, the reality is. I am a bit frightened by the drugs, because I do not like the notion of being unable to exist in my day at the level, or to the degree that I wish. In this instance, however, I overcame that natural restriction, and let the drugs carry me into a near-coma. I do not regret the choice, or the decision. I cannot remember any of the dreams I surely must have experienced, but from the looks of my bed, there must have been quite a bit of hand-to-hand combat involved! That is, in itself, unique. I never move more than 1/4 turn in my sleep. I always go to sleep on one particular side, and wake up on my back. Evidently, that was not the case today. I do not yet have any specific information on the events which obviously transpired during my rest. If anything comes through the fog, I will try to remember it long enough to get it into "print" here. The writing has me in its clutches at the moment, and I will not be surprised to learn that much of my sleep-time activity had, or has, something to do with the center of my thinking about the writing. I want to get through the three-part series that I am writing for the "Pull Up A Stone" series. In fact, I do remember that, just before I awoke this evening, I was speaking the three titles out loud. I believe that is what woke me up. I remember dreaming of a phone conversation with one of my friends along this journey where I am explaining why the three parts are divided as they are. So, I wasn't totally slacking off, now was I! I'm going to go give Part Two a shot, and see how it goes. I have said for a very long time that life is not about what you get, but what you do with what you get. We get stuff from a lot of different parts of our living, even our sleep. Use what you get, no matter what it is, to make your life better, more exciting, and more giving. Let the moments you value the least lead to the joys that you will value most. That is one of the most special blessings that writing affords me. To share those joys here, in this place, with people who simply love you through each step along the way, no matter what, is the greatest joy. Sleep well, my friends. I've got some writing to do. In His Care, and Yours, Budroe PS: The fourth message has been left under the stone. If you are interested, you can find it here:
I hope you will take a look and let me know what you think. Budroe |
I have done some writing today, and the ability and privilege to create new words is one of my favorite activities. If you get the opportunity, I hope you will pull up a stone, and check it out. I would be interested in your thoughts.
The weather has been dropping, temperature-wise, all day long around Chateau-de-Budroe. It looks as if this is the confusing time of the weather maven. The high temperature at my little house was at its highest at midnight last night. It was a very warm night, and rainy. It's 30 degrees outside my house right now, and it has been quieting, in spurts, for much of the daylight hours. This past storm system has spread sadness and destruction across our land. Buildings designed to withstand severe weather--did not. Confused drivers plunge over the edge of a bridge, at excessive speed. Humans have made poor decisions, from School Administrators to Bus drivers, and other innocent lives have been the payment. We have, with all our advanced technology, not yet come to understand that we do not control Mother Nature. Even given adequate warning, we feel invincible when the proof of physical laws are staring us in the face. Yet, we take great faith and comfort in those things which we can neither see nor touch. I have the ultimate faith in the reports that will be forthcoming shortly concerning my approval of total disability. I believe the results from my Neurological tests and my blood work will be positive--or at least as positive as they can be. Yet, it is not entirely outside the realm of possibility that they will be negative. I must always remember my role, even as I consider that which I know. I, too, must remain aware of that which I do not know. Life is lived somewhere between the two. Sometimes, we fail to notice the obvious. Sometimes, we see that which does not exist. Sometimes, we escape with nothing more than a fateful shrug. And, sometimes others pay the ultimate cost for someone else's mistakes. That IS life. Life is good, but life can be very, very fragile. Guard it well, and remain vigilant. It is too precious a gift to take for granted, and much too precious to be taken advantage. In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| I had a very nice surprise in my email inbox this afternoon. It seems as though I have, somehow, turned yellow. That was a major goal for me, and I am very grateful for this honor. I also know that a number of my friends on this journey played a significant role in my being awarded this privilege. Thank you. So many of my heroes here, from my first day, were yellow cases--it means something very special to me. Keep me honest, and let Dad be the One that matters, no matter what! In His Care, and Yours, ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** (Looks kinda nifty, don't it?) Budroe |
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