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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 ** |
Today, I created a little Musical Trivia Quiz. I had never even seen a Quiz on WDC before yesterday. It was an adventure, I tell ya. If you feel lucky, you might give it a go:
Right now, it is just in the "test" phase. If there is enough interest, I will update the questions weekly, and maybe even sponsor a Music Trivia Contest. Please let me know what you think. On to other matters. There is, at least for me, at least a tangential parallel between the sadness over the recent death of Anna Nicole Smith, and the way the public is reacting to it, and some reactions which I have recieved regarding this Blog. I know it may seem a bit of a stretch, but for me it is relevant. I have had some advice from very well meaning friends who have told me that this Blog is inappropriate, as regards it's theme. What they are saying is, just as in the ANS case, the life--and death--of a person should be private, and out of the public eye. While they are concerned for me, the greater consideration for them is their feelings about me, this illness, and most importantly this Blog. Members of our very own community, who have wished me well, have indicated that they prefer not to read Blogs, in general, and this Blog in particular. These kind folks have stated that it is simply too difficult for them to read, or to participate with, because of their own journeys through the valley. I can accept that, and respect them for having the willingness to respect me enough to say so. Others have said that they find the nature, and the subject matter of this Blog to be "offensive". To them, the idea of talking about illness, death, and Cancer are more than they can handle. A few have even suggested that I withdraw the Blog, out of the public view by the members of this community, because it generates a picture that would best be left silent. Like the recent events in the life, and death, of Anna Nicole Smith, it seems that "Out of sight, out of mind!" is the preferred manner of dealing with such private things. Some even have said they feel embarassed to know these things of a total stranger. Reading someone's Blog (or any other writing, for that matter) is entirely voluntary. I am not writing this Journal for the purpose of public appeal, applause, or acceptance. And, the purpose of this Blog is not to publicly delineate my decline and demise--or not. While the recent events surrounding an extremely public figure have been fodder for the public's consumption, the several thousand members of WDC do not alight in the noontime with cameras rolling, waiting for the next gaff. I do not write for the entertainment of the general public here. This Blog is about a journey. The journey IS a very personal one. It has been, is now, and will be at times somewhat difficult to write, and to read. It is a frightening thought to many, that one would itemize the steps that complete their life. It can make some feel sad, or angry, or afraid, or joyful. Is it an inappropriate subject for the written word? And, moreover is it inappropriate here? For the "train wreck" crowd, I'm sure the answer would be "No! We want to see it all!" For those who are morally opposed to the idea of writing such a Blog, the answer would be quite different. Where is the dignity in dying with your bodily fluids "splashed" across the page? (Yep, got it!) For some, this Blog represents the very same problem that the life of Anna Nicole Smith showed them. "I don't care!", They say. "Just don't put it in my face!" Why not? Do you honestly believe that not seeing it will change your reality one single bit? I happen to believe that seeing it may very well change your reality one little bit. I just happen to believe that for you, and for me, that change might be a welcome one, indeed. The "what", and the "how" of just such a journey can be a great benefit to those who have not yet been called upon it--yet will be. In this Blog, I do examine, from time to time, the "Why?" of things. I do this because that is a major part of the journey for me. What the recent death of Anna Nicole Smith and I do NOT share, however, is hopeless fatalism. In the first place, I am fully convinced that I am about this journey for reasons which I may not completely yet understand, yet I do fully accept and endorse. I also believe, with all of my being, that this journey can serve a much larger purpose, for a very long time. It will provide a map, of sorts, for the victims, families, and survivors of Cancer. At least, that is my desire. It will show, as well, that in the process of leaving, should that be the final outcome of this particular journey (and there are many who declare otherwise, incidentally), there is much living yet to be done! Max Lucado, in his wonderful book "When God Whispers Your Name" says it well, I think: "Anyone can die. Everybody does it once. But, you can tell a lot about a person by looking at the way they leave. Dying is easy--you don't even have to do anything--just show up. Leaving, however can sometimes be a very painful, difficult, and ugly thing. Or, it can be a glorious completion of an amazing journey. There is not much difference between dying and leaving. It's only a little difference, really. Sometimes, even just a little difference can make a lot of difference. Sometimes, that little bit of difference makes all the difference in the world!" That would be, especially in light of the news these fast few days, a nice way to leave I think. If just one person should be called upon this journey, or find themselves involuntarily subjected to such a journey as this because of a loved one, I hope they will find something in these words that will help. I want there to be something--anything--in this Blog that will make their journey one step easier. If it were to be the best of all worlds, I would want them to find hope. I don't personally believe that one can look at the life and times of Anna Nicole Smith, and walk away from it feeling hope. Sadly, that is not only a true statement in her instance. But, I would like to think that it could be found in this instance. I understand, appreciate, and respect the feelings, opinions, and decisions of those who would pass this journey by. I even hope that, if the day should come that they find a new need, they would come along on the walk through the valley. How else will they know of the love, encouragement, friendship, loyalty, and honor to be found here? Even if I were completely alone on this journey, I would not stop writing it. There are some in our community, having faced deeply disturbing personal situations, who have felt abandoned on their journey, and have even felt the slings and arrows of their fellow members for even mentioning that they were in troubling times. I find that to be incredibly saddening. Is there a double standard here, or in life? Well, of course there is. I just want to do one thing about it, to lessen the gap. So, at least for the present, this journey will continue here, in Blogville. Writing of it, for me, is mandatory. Reading, or commenting on it, by you, is completely optional. I hope you will come along for the journey, friend. If you cannot, I hope you will keep me, and so many thousands of others, in your thoughts and prayers. Last evening, I had the terrifying thought: "I wonder who is praying for Anna Nicole Smith tonight?" For a moment, it was a very sad, lonely, and frightening thought. Her life touched millions. Would, in the light of the last months and years of her life, there be millions keeping her in their thoughts, and prayers? And then, in a moment,it struck me. And, it didn't seem quite so frightening any more. "Yes. Me." In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| It was while reading some of my favorite Blogs last evening that I learned of the death of Anna Nicole Smith. I haven't turned on my television for several days (since failing to get the Super Bowl, actually). Needless to say, I was as surprised as was everyone else. This was a public end to a very sad, and a very public life. Needless to say, the "talking heads" are all over this story, like white on rice. A suspected lover, Larry Burkett, has a Kentucky connection. He is a lifelong resident of Louisville. Between he and Tara Conner (Miss USA), Kentucky has been getting an involuntary addition to its usual daily beating. This, too, saddens me greatly. Reading through the Blogs, I found it interesting to see other people reacting to the news of this death. Call it research. What I finally came down to was the basic question I would love to ask some of those people writing with such "authority" in their Blogs. "Would you say that to her face?" Hers was, both by preference and personal decision, an extremely public life. Hers was also an unnegotiated public tragedy. We go to the NASCAR races to see the wrecks. When there is an accident on the highway, we slow down as we pass, having some kind of inane hope of seeing body parts, even as we gasp with shock when we do. To follow this person's life, one just got the instinctive knowledge of an impending train wreck. It was, for many, terribly difficult to either feel, or admit, any sympathy for her. I did not know her personally, but I did meet her once, at a Derby party. Anna Nicole was a fan of the Kentucky Derby, but she loved the parties! But then, there is a host of people large and small, important and insignificant that could say the same thing. For over 100 years, the locals have worked with great intensity to create the festive aura which surrounds the "Run for the Roses". They have done so successfully. People fly in from around the Globe for the parties. Some even stay for the race. I must confess that, upon meeting her, I was largely unimpressed. But, by the same token, I must admit to you that she did not fit the profile I had created for her. She was personable, and gentle. We did not get to chat about Fluid Mechanics, or Quantum Physics, or the relevance of Chaucer upon the 21st Century underwater basket-weaver. But, she was nice. She looked at me when she spoke, and held her eyes upon me when I spoke. It was a short conversation, but it was a conversation. She failed to meet my expectations, in many regards. It was quite obvious that she was "somebody". But, in the few moments I shared with her, she was a person. I got to see parts of her living, if not her life, that disagreed with me. I got to see parts of her life that I not only appreciated, but really rather admired. That made the news yesterday just a little more saddening to me. Hers was, as was her life, a very public death. I am sorry to hear of her passing. I hope that she will, finally, be at peace with herself. I do not believe that she had that advantage in her life. I would have liked to know her better, because I think that she would not only have had relevant things to say, but also would have spoken things that were intensely important to her. It seems to me that there just were not enough, if any, people in her world that cared all that much for listening, or even hearing those things that were important to this very publicly tragic person. Maybe, if she had been able to find a quiet place to write down those things, her life would have been better, happier, and even perhaps longer. I wish she had written a Blog. I would have very much enjoyed reading it, I think. Which brings me to another point, relative to this Blog. But, if it's alright, I'll save that until tomorrow's entry. In His Care, and Yours, Budroe PS: I needed a little lift tonight. So I visited Lorien  Quiz site
Are you shocked to discover I rated as a Progressive? I was, umm, not. It's fun, and even a tad bit funny. If you need a nerf brick, this isn't a bad substitute. |
| Wow! How's THAT for a title, huh? Back in August of 2006, life was pretty much on track. It seems, now, like a forever ago. I had things going just about the way I thought they should be. The one thing that caused me some grief was the perception that the book wasn't moving forward at the speed I had hoped it might. I looked for an avenue to figure out why, and to learn what I could do about that. While it is very true that I am, and have been for all of my life, a "Why?" guy, one of the most important lessons that trucking can teach is that, sometimes, "What?" beats "Why?" like an Ace trump. If truck drivers could be fashioned by Theory, I could teach the very best. But, I was never what you'd call a "good" trucker. It was always the "What?" that got in my way. "Why?" was always at hand. That is not so good a thing when the question is seeking to understand the nature, say, of a late delivery. I had lots of those. The perception was that I just wasn't such a bad driver; I just wasn't such a good driver. And, as things truckin' go, that was usually true. I never called in "final" before my loads were on someone else's dock. That is to say that I never spilled freight on the Interstate. I never tore up someone else's truck. I never rolled a truck over in a snow storm. My dispatcher's perception was that, if I heard a rumor about a solitary snowflake 700 miles away, I was looking for a place to "shut down". Her understanding of my nature gave her a sense of humor about my driving. Other dispatchers only heard the resulting "He's shut down--again!" That was the perception they got from what she thought was, for her, a humorous moment. They didn't know that she was quietly thankful that I was not so stupid as to allow my natural testosterone-driven ego to trump my hummingbird butt. When she left, I got a new dispatcher. The new dispatcher greeted our relationship with "I hope you don't think I'm gonna buy this shuttin' down crap, do ya?" Where did THAT come from? It was a prejudice unto itself, which this dispatcher's experience level (umm, zero) had created, based entirely upon a perception of someone else's relationship with me. I did, in fact, shut down my runs when I determined it necessary for the safety of the: 1. Driver 2. Equipment 3. Freight (In that order, because my perception gave me the opportunity, responsibility, and authority to do so!) And, dispatchers, as a general rule, HATE having to live with someone else's perceptions--well, at least sometimes! It was a short-lived, but entirely frustrating relationship with this new dispatcher. They went away. I didn't. I didn't, but not because even before my first dispatch, this new dispatcher had already written four unkind "write-ups" in my Driver Database. She was protecting her own job, based entirely upon perception. The result of this perception was a prejudice that I neither caused nor created, yet was left to deal with. She refused, at every opportunity, to see possibility in me, my work, or our relationship. It was doomed before it was birthed, it would seem. But, the owner of the company was a friend of mine. For years, he had known me. The frustration of the dispatcher was magnified significantly when, approached to approve my termination (again, before the first dispatch), the owner looked at the Dispatcher and quietly said: "If anyone loses their job today, it is going to be you. Do not ever come here with that request again, or you will be voluntarily terminating your employment here." You see, the perception was different. And, incidentally, so was the prejudice. So, necessarily, was the possibility. I, personally, hate discrimination in whatever form it takes. Just for the reasons as I have tried to explain above, discrimination is never the right choice. It is, always, wrong. My Blog, my rules. This is a rule of my living, and my life. I do not require, seek, or need anyone's approval for it. The perception of "Notre Dame", in my eyes, was (and is today) that it is a good piece of work. To be honest with you, I believe it has the possibility of being great work. But, back in August of 2006, I didn't know how to make it move from what it was, to what it could be. It was only ignorance. Not arrogance, or even stupidity. More than even this work, I was looking for a way to improve every facet of my craft. Writing was not new to me. I have been writing for a very long time. I love writing. If there were only two things that I could take with me to a desert island, they would be an endless supply of paper and pencils. My perception of my writing was, and is today, that it is good. My prejudice is that it could be a lot better. And, in pursuit of that possibility, I searched for a very long time to find the places out in the Electrons that would allow my craft to improve. My thinking was, as it is today, that if I could improve, so would my writing. My perception was harboring a prejudice that I believed was just loaded with possibility. I found no single site that could provide all that I felt that I, as a writer, and my work, required. So, I decided to focus on different parts. For the pure knowledge of the craft, I chose FMWriters. Forward Motion is, as a concept, one with which I completely agree. I became somewhat active there, and was immediately rewarded with something significant. I enrolled in Holly's class, and with the first lesson's assignment, realized that there was something I could do to improve my craft, my writing, and my work. It had, incidentally, NOTHING to do with writing. It had everything, in fact, to do with reading. I have never regretted my membership there, where it remains today. For the purest skills of the craft, I cannot recommend with any more enthusiasm Forward Motion's active, and vibrant site. It is a University Campus FILLED with classrooms that are FILLED with students of the craft: many of whom have names on the books you purchase first at the Bookseller's. My perception of this place matched quite nicely with my perception of the writing, and my work. The possibilities continue today. I also found, as much as the fully-functioning community at FMW, a need to exist among those writers whom I respect, admire, and wish to emulate. I was directed to a site, run by not only an FM alum, but friend as well. My perception was that, if this site were commandeered by an FM Alum, then many of the prejudices would be to my liking, and the possibilities would only expand. I was not incorrect in my presumptions. I wound up at AbsoluteWrite.com, and was almost immediately encased within one of the most active communities of WRITERS in the world. I was an observer. "How do writer's act? How do they feed? How do they respond, within their native habitat? How will I know IF, or when, I AM a writer?" I looked for clues, and found them. Friends were developed, conversations were begun, and the learning curve somehow got incredibly steeper. At FM, it was a community of incredibly giving people who seemed to be willing to, at the drop of the hat, respond with "So, ya wanna be a writer, do ya? Let me help." That was my perception. My prejudice, however, lingered nearer to a desire to be a good writer. At AbsoluteWrite, I was suddenly among the very best writers in the world. It is somewhat a closed (or at least closeted) community, unto itself. There is, for the most part, not a sense of arrogance, position, or status there. We are, all, writers. My prejudice was (and, to at least a small degree, remains) that these are the really great writers of our time, and I want to soak up every tidbit I can. The possibilities exist for that there, you see. My craft, and my work, has consistently improved (although perhaps at a painful pace) from one perception to the next. The ultra-social nature of AbsoluteWrite is a wonder to me. But, those great writers very often speak a language that I cannot comprehend. What IS a "mid-list" author? And why does it seem that this is not such a good thing? Whose prejudice am I confirming here, anyway? I gotta tell ya, if you felt the necessity to slap my face for being a "mid-list" author, slap me senseless! I love it there, just as I love FMWriters. The perceptions, the prejudices, and the possiblities do exist at each site, yet they are entirely different. I became aware, around the middle of September, 2006, that one goal was not being met. I was learning, and improving my craft. I was learning how to be a writer, with some inroads being made towards becoming a good writer. But, the work was still languishing, and needed attention. Where could I go to inject quality into what I felt was a good start, yet with a heart far from the possibility that lay quietly, expectantly, within it? This was about the time I learned of Conferences, and conferencing. While conferences do offer important opportunities to learn, and improve your craft, there is another, and seemingly much more important aspect to this particular creature. What AbsoluteWrite openly offered to me as a writer on the web, conferencing could offer me in the flesh. Not nearly so much the "Why?", but the "What?" of being a professional writer--you know, the whole 'gettin' paid' thing. At conferences, I could get my mug in front of people who could propel my future! I submitted some work to a "by invitation only" conference, pretty much on a whim to be honest. To me, it was much more along the lines of drawing the squirrel inside the matchbook cover for the approval to take the home study course on Art. That was MY perception. That was MY prejudice. When I got the letter from the publisher sponsoring the conference (who knew?) that not only did they accept my admission request, but wanted me to be a presenter, and on a panel, I got scared spitless. Either these people had not the first clue as to who I was, or what my "real" work represented, or they were some really desperate puppies! My work, they told me, was nominated for an award. Would I travel to Florida (Tickets enclosed) to accept the award, should I be selected? Would I present for them, a 60 minute lecture on the art of writing? (Huh?) Would I serve on a panel to discuss the valuable Critique? Perceptions. Prejudice. Possibilities. I found this, if not laughable, tragic. I kept remembering the words of Groucho Marx, who once replied: "I wouldn't belong to any club who would have me as a member!" That was how I felt. Ten days prior to the beginning date of the conference in Orlando/Ft. Lauderdale, a member of the selection committee for this organization called me on the telephone (as, I suppose, opposed to the Stone!) and informed me that my work had been selected as the overall favorite of the entrys submitted. It would be published, and given special prominence in a volume of the submissions that were the best. Would I come to receive the award? Still, I kept wondering who these people thought they were talking to. I'm a truck driver, y'all! I'm just a poor ole Kentucky Hillbilly, a broke down sinner, saved by Grace, through Faith. I ain't nuthin' much, and I SURE ain't nothin' special. I went, and had a great time. I met some pretty outstanding people, served on an amazing panel, and delivered a talk that has since become a work that is posted on this site. I got a "purty-ment", a little cash, a nice plaque, and a pretty spiffy book. I felt like I stole them. I had to hurry up and get outa town before someone figured it all out, and cancelled the return flight ticket. Why? Perceptions. Prejudice. Possibilities. It was a nightmare event for me, personally. I think I was gracious. At least, I didn't pee in the punch, if you know what I mean. (Although, spikin' it crossed my mind several times. These folks SERIOUSLY needed to lighten UP!) I made some really good contacts, and showed the "First 50" of "Notre Dame" to some folks that could make it reality. As I sat home, contemplating the Book Tour, the Series, and the never-ending requests, the University informed me that I would need to move, in April 2007, to either Chicago or Portland, Oregon to finish my work. If, however, I chose Oregon, they had secured housing, and a position for me with Texas Instruments as a Software Development Engineer/Project Manager. That was specifically what my degree would be for. Easy choice. In order to accomplish that, however, I would have to "accelerate" my coursework. Their perception was that, with my consistent presence on the Dean's List, and my probability that I would graduate "Magna Cum", I would have no problem accomodating this requirement. Perception. Prejudice. Possibility. I would have to "hang up the keys", spend about 20 hours every day working for school, and finish the program in a little less than 1/2 the time. But, I couldn't get my brain past the book, and the writing. (Wow, this is gettin' long!) And, I was a new and microscopic fish in the FMW pond, which was just fine. I had much to learn, and that was (and is) a superb place to do just that. I was (am still, in my perception at least) a microscopic tadpole in a very small pond of very large fish at AbsoluteWrite. Nothing fit. And, the book was being ignored. The series was not happening, and the Agents and Publishers from the conference in Florida suddenly became very quiet. I needed a place where I could really hone my craft, where the people I dealt with were "real" in a very hillbilly sort of way. I don't do well as a Pig in a Tux. I don't wear "Bibb Overhauls" too well, either. Two strong additions to my writing life, but not home. At the recommendation of a couple of friends who were familiar with another site that they really enjoyed, I visited WDC for the first time in late September, 2006. I looked at this mega-site, and my perception was that it was an animal with 1,000 tentacles; I would never figure my way, or find my possibility here. But, as I read through a few threads, something became clear to me. This place has people in it! I mean, T-Shirt wearin', tobacco-spittin' PEOPLE in it. REAL PEOPLE!! And, in that moment, I felt like I had found home. It's a good thing I did, too. Because, in less than one month, everything would change. 73 entries ago, a journey which I would not possibly have envisioned began. And, along the way, genuine, caring, and loving people who also happen to have this strange quirky passion for writing showed up, and didn't leave. At the same time, my perception about my work has slowly moved more toward the possible. In December, one of the friends that has come along for this walk through the valley told me about a little contest here. No dough, no hardware, and no big deal. "Isn't it about time you found out?" Kenzie, I will NEVER forget that statement. So many encouraged, and hoped, and believed as I do that this isn't just about me,or Cancer, or even the valley. It's all about the journey, and the walk. I didn't enter the Contest with any notion that my writing would be accepted, much less qualify to be judged. That's the truth. In actual fact, I just wanted to see how to enter a contest! But, somewhere along the way, the work said something else. And, I began to care--a lot about not embarassing myself, or Dad with just writing. I did not want to cause friends regret for having faith in a work that I had prepared. I did not want to cause the contest to regret having my work in it. And, I did NOT want to make Dad ashamed of His kid. Somewhere along the way, it really began to matter. The perception, and the prejudice began to exist outside my possibility. Yesterday, something pretty neat happened. It changed my perception about a lot of things. It changed a few prejudices about myself, and maybe even my writing. But, more than anything else, it showed me possibilities that I could never have imagined. And, the one possibility that I just can't get over, is just how much love can come from people who, given the option, just do it anyway. Why all the verbosity, Oh endless one? I think that I am not the only person struggling on this journey. What I have written here is my honest appraisal of myself, and my writing. But, it is constrained most of all by MY perception, MY prejudice, and what I think is possible. Yours is, too. Like in writing, life too follows this same truth. I have been called upon a journey, and so have you. That I have it (the journey, that is) is not necessarily my choice. How I deal with it entirely IS my choice. Regardless of how purposeless I may have felt, as I told a friend I would not write of this, that was MY perception, and MY prejudice concluding a possibility that was, just, wrong. I am by no means the writer I was, or have been. Life has made that a necessity. My plan has been required to change, because the Purpose of my life didn't. So many quote John Lennon's outlook on Life. My favorite quote on life is a little different. My life quote is my life verse. You can find it in the Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 1, verses 4-9. Jeremiah 1:4-9 (New International Version) New International Version (NIV) Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society The Call of Jeremiah 4 The word of the LORD came to me, saying, 5 "Before I formed you in the womb I knew [a] you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." 6 "Ah, Sovereign LORD," I said, "I do not know how to speak; I am only a child." 7 But the LORD said to me, "Do not say, 'I am only a child.' You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. 8 Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you," declares the LORD. 9 Then the LORD reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, "Now, I have put my words in your mouth. Footnotes: Jeremiah 1:5 Or chose What are YOUR perceptions of your work? What prejudices are you operating under that are just wrong? What possibilities are keeping you from the fullest realization of the wondrous words you have yet to write? I don't have to be a great writer. I probably don't really even want to be. I'd like to become, some day, a good writer, who can tell a story well. I have been a writer most of my life. I hope that this journey--that this walk Through the Valley, will make me a better person, and maybe even help make me a better writer. I hope that this entry will maybe even help you, my dear friends along the journey, realize that the love you have so selflessly given to lil ole me is nothing less than the proof you need to look at your perceptions, and your prejudices, and your possibilites. In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
Sweet Mother of Pearl!
We won th' whole shootin' match! Way ta Go, DAD!! Ps. 40:5 And, just take a look at all the friends on this journey that won, too! MAYAN!! It's a Hat Trick! Congratulations, everybody! Jeepers! WOW! Scribbler takes the Short Story, and Kenzie comes in with Honorable Mention! It's a crowd! Thanks, Stevie, for the wineskins. And, Kenzie, thanks for loanin' me yer A....Donkey. ROFL. And, above it all. Thanks, Dad. For everything. In His Care, and Yours, Budroe Soli Deo Gloria! |
| So, friend; how's it goin'? How are you doing--really? What does it do to your heart when someone asks you that question, and you just instinctively know that they REALLY want to know? There are not too many people in this world that can pretty much answer that question for themselves just by listening to the way you say "Hello!". Well, at least there are not many people in MY world that can. But, I did get to talk to a couple of them tonight. And, on the same phone call, ta boot! If you have been a friend along this walk through the Valley, you know that I have a very special Aunt--my Aunt Jena. Man, I wish you could know what just saying those words feels like. I'd put pep in yer step, and hair on yer teeth, I tells ya! I got to share a telephone visit with she, and my Cousin Anne this evening. The amazing thing is not so much that I have their number. The amazing thing is that they answer the phone! As you already know, these are a couple or truly class acts. And, I got to spend a few moments just lovin' em, and gettin' loved up by them tonight.On their own journey, these folks take the time, each and every day, to join me on mine. And, we talked about the little things, the inconsequential things of life--like weather. How NORMAL! We also talked about things like the Blessings of merely BEING, each day, and our shared hearts of gratitude for one more sunrise. Those kinds of things people don't usually gab about over the "wire", now do they? Well, why not? Not only was it a Blessing to be able to hear it. It was surely a Blessing to be able to say it--to a person who most truly does understand all that goes into the saying of it. Does that make sense? What a relief, for me, not to have to explain. I was surely Blessed by both my Aunt, and my Cousin, this very day. But, then, isn't that just like Dad? "Every day, His mercies are new!" I call it "Learning something all over again for the first time!", but that's really what it is. So many friends have come alongside for this journey so unsparingly, and so unselfishly. My question to you today is: What are you taking away from the Journey? Is there some specific "take away" value for your efforts along the way? Now, friend. That's not a question I expect an answer to. It's just a question I hope you will consider. I hit a homerun tonight, with just a simple phone call. I heard the voices that mean the world to me. And, in the middle of the conversation somewhere, I heard them laugh! I laughed, too. It was from joy. A few precious moments of sheer, utter joy! Who is it, in your world, that these words make you think of? Who is it that you can call, in the next five minutes, and experience the relaxed, peaceful existence of pure joy with? Can you think of one such person? Then get outa this Blog, get on the phone, and CALL them! Sometimes, that's just what life is all about. Don't miss it. And, don't miss it now. In His Care, Budroe |
| Today was a signal day in this journey. For the first time, I was examined by someone referred by the Indiana Disability Determination Bureau (Social Security Administration). There was, in my mind, still this lingering, pesky, question as to why I was seeing anyone about disability. I suppose it will be in my mind for a while, still yet. That's okay, it's just part of the process. I met with a family Psychologist, for a mental evaluation. He had a busy afternoon!  Actually, the way I understand this particular game, the Disability people try to determine (or, actually, deny) disability benefits on two entirely different fronts. The first front has to do with things physical. Can he mop a floor? Can he take tickets at a Cinema? Is there ANY job, for which this person is qualified that, regardless of illness, injury, or disease, can be done? (Answer:No. Desired answer by DDB? Yes. I don't care what it is--find one!) The second option, failing to find (or eliminate) physical disability, is to attempt to find (or eliminate) disability based upon mental status. Go ahead. Consider. I'll wait. Let it Bless yer hearts. For no reason other than the schedule, the Mental Evaluation came first. My friend Tom was my Driver, and escort. He got to talk to the Dr. too. "How does he spend his day: from the time he wakes up until he retires for the evening?" Oh, you gotta KNOW how much Tom loved writing down THOSE answers!! So far as I know, Tom hasn't seen this site yet. You are entirely welcome! But, it does make me sort of wonder about how he sees my days proceed. I didn't see what he wrote, but the Doctor sure took his time reading Tom's answers, I know that. If I "fail" the test, then I guess I am mentally suited for some, as yet unknown, work function/capacity. If I pass the test, then I am -- NOT mentally suited? This Psychologist was a nice guy. He was conversational. He was very good at his job. By the time we got through with the schooling, experience, performance, etc. stuff, he was suitably impressed. At one point, he looked at me and asked: "I know this is going to sound strange (I don't know, Doc. Aren't YOU the one who decides "strange"?), but why exactly is it that they sent you here?" Well, right office, on time, correct day. They said "Go there!", so here I am, Doc. He advised me that Mental Evaluations were usually done after the Physical Exams, by about 30 days. He didn't quite understand. I told him when the Physical Exam was scheduled, and he seemed to think that it suddenly made some sense. He did not feel led to share this with me, so I cannot share it with you! "So, Bud. You are 12 hours away from your Doctorate in Information Technology. You have a great job lined up, in April, in Oregon to finish. What's the problem? Why are you here?" It didn't take long for him to begin to understand why I was there. By the time I got through going briefly through "the event", to discharge, he was just sitting back in his chair. He wasn't writing, or thinking, or planning the next question. He was just listening. I think he was experiencing my journey. As I was observing him, I must admit that I was experiencing parts of it as well. It's not an easy story to tell. I guess it's not a bundle of laughs to hear, either. When I got through, he was teary-eyed. That made me a little wet around the orbits. "I'll do what I can to rush this right through, Bud. Thank you for your time today. I hope things go alright for you. I'll pray for you." "Thank you, Doctor. Please do. I'll talk to Dad about you, too!" And, we left. I don't know the score. I don't know if I "Passed", or "Failed". I'm not even sure what that means. I didn't go with an agenda. He asked me questions, and I answered them as best I could, as honestly as I knew how. I believe his concern, his reactions, and his words were genuine, and sincere. That's good enough for me. Then, Tom took me for a surprise. He found a New York Deli, in Louisville!! OMG! We ate like it was The Last Meal! I had Hot Pastrami on Rye, with Golden Mustard and Swiss, Chili, Slaw, and an honest-to-God New York Kosher Garlic Dill Pickle!! And, AND a home made brownie with Walnuts in it somehow found its way into my pocket and hid all the way home!! He had a Reuben (only difference). When we got to the Doctor's Office, the snow was being pelted with hail, just before sundown. Yep, we had us a 'venture comin' home. But, we made it. Safe, if not entirely sound. I go for the Physical Exam on the 20th. I think they are gonna make me cough! The temp's still up. I'm seein' Dudette every day. She ain't happy. Oh, well. Bad on her. I'm doin' what I can, and I have no doubt that Dad is doin' what I can't. That's good enough for me. She's pumpin' antibiotics. My body's doing it's thing as best it can. The lungs are "gommed up", and it is making my breathing a little more of an adventure than I prefer. Flu (H3N2-A), don't ya know. No live virus injections for me. So, I get to slug my way through it. It's keeping me very tired, and just a little anxious. You really are NOT supposed to be concentrating on breathing! It's supposed to be at least a semi-involuntary activity. My Blood Sugar has been doing so well, too. It decided to make a proxy vote this morning, coming in at just under 270. That's the first time it's been out of range in a very long time, and I was slightly miffed. But, given the extra demand on the lungs, and the bugs trying to find the quickest exit from my body (them bugs had no idea how many drugs they were going to run into--they chose poorly when they decided to get into this body!), things just ain't so bad. It snowed for a good part of the day here. There is enough snow to BE snow. Tire tracks on the roads, no green in the yards, and a nice cover everywhere. Somehow, it was okay for today. Tomorrow, however, may well be "an equine of an entirely different hue!" (Dr. Blair, dontcha know!) I got a long anticipated Review this morning from the contest I entered. I am fixating on that, for some reason. The contest is a very good one, and the entries are just incredible! For some reason, it's important to me. When I got the review from the Judges, I was pleased. It seems as if they were, too. That made me quite happy. The winners are (finally!) supposed to be announced by tomorrow evening. One of our friends on this journey Kenzie  gave me the original info for the contest:
Both Short Story and Poetry are included, and the prizes are just phenomenal. I wanted the piece that I created for the contest to be a good one, for some reason--it just seemed to be important. I've gotten some very generous reviews on the work, for which I am grateful. But, to tell you the truth, it has really been a singular honor for my work to be represented among such fine writing--and such astounding writers. I do truly encourage you to set aside some time to read some of these entries. You won't pick a bad one, no matter which ones you choose. I was very honored to have my work accepted for the contest. I want to publicly thank MarysTears and TexansBeatTheMiamiDolphinsBy3 (Please see note below) for the foresight of creating, living up to, and delivering such a fine event. Regardless of the winners announced tomorrow, some truly amazing writing has been displayed. We, as a community, should be very proud of the quality work given to this event. (Note to readers) In my original entry post, I inadvertantly forgot to include TexansBeatTheMiamiDolphinsBy3 as a partner in this contest. This omission was sadly unintentional on my part. The error was, thanks to more than one precious reader, brought to my attention and has been corrected. My apologies to TexansBeatTheMiamiDolphinsBy3 for my lack of attention. As you will see when you peruse the list of entrys, this contest required an amazing amount of work by the contest organizers, and they did an outstanding job all the way through. My sincerest apologies for MY grievous mistake. I do know that one cannot "un-ring" a bell, but I want to attempt to correct an error, if not an impression.It's quieting again. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** It has come to my attention that February is also Cancer Prevention Month in the USA. For us all, and especially for all women, there is something very rare to celebrate this month. Although it has been wrapped (in my opinion) entirely too tightly in a "Cancer Prevention Drug", and I have serious reservations about the Pharmaceutical Company who developed the product attempting to force the Government to require this one single drug to be dispensed to every female over the age of 13 years, there is great promise to be shared and celebrated. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This drug allegedly prevents the onset of the virus (HPV) which plays such an important role in the development of Cervical Cancer--the third greatest cancer killer among women in the world (Ovarian and Lung Cancers are ahead of Cervical Cancer in females). Even while I did NOT, as some have alleged, invent dirt, I did happen to suggest the color. But, I was a child during the Polio era. Do any of you remember the discussions surrounding the "Requirements of Vaccination" debates back in the 40's and 50's? I can't get an accurate historical sense of the conversations of those times, but I do know they occurred. If you remember, would you share them with me here? It's just so very important. I'll share with you another reason in a future post--I SWARE! (IF I remember!) The other amazing celebration for this Cancer Prevention Month comes from the Research Facilities at the Markey Cancer Research Center at the University of Kentucky, in Lexington. A drug, to be approved for consumer use this month, promises to reduce the onset of Lung Cancer by 50% among all Americans (Smokers and Non-Smokers alike). Pleaaasssse do not go there. The drug is a major breakthrough for millions of non-smoking Lung Cancer patients (a majority, by the way, of patients who suffer from the Cancers of the Lung Cancer Group!). I hope that both treatments far exceed expectations. For the sake of many of my family members who have moved to Heaven entirely too soon, I wish they had been available forty years ago. For myself, I wish they had been available to consumers ten years ago. The celebration is about progress. Let's celebrate that. Because, for just so very many of us on this little blue circling orb, that equals hope. Let's celebrate hope. In His Care, Budroe |
| There are people who do this very well; I am their Poster Child. Even before this journey began, this walk through the valley, I had the ability. It has now, officially, been raised to Classic Art Status by yours truly. There are few things in this world which, un-assisted, bug me. People don't get asked by me very often for very many things. I fail to keep commitments, too. I'm not raising myself up outa the gutter here, folks. As much as it bugs me to fail to keep a commitment, there are a couple of things that have to be considered. When you give your word, you should keep it. We all try, and we all fail. When I fail to keep a commitment, it has a wide range of effects upon me. The very first thing I feel is shock. The second thing I feel is remorse. The next thing I feel is an urgent need to get it "fixed", as fast as I can. Do you think there are people in this world who do NOT feel these things? I do, and it just bugs me. And, in these past few weeks, I have learned something that comes as a complete and total shock to me. I have failed to keep commitments I never knew I had made in the first place. In my brain, you see, there is this tape player. It is always running. I can recall every conversation I have ever had with anyone--ever. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Now, it seems as if either the tape is skipping, or there are some blank spots on it. The working explanation at the moment is that those three opportunities I had to show off, way back when this whole thing started, may have "short-circuited" my tape player. I can't remember sh*$! (Sorry, but I'm actively bugged.) We used to have a phrase that I'm sure you have heard--if not used, in your own life. CRS. I got it bad. I'm not talking about casual stuff, although that's come into play as well. My friend Tom told me that he wasted a pot of coffee the other day, waiting on me to come over. I never knew I was supposed to come over. I had no freakin' idea! I've missed appointments that aren't too important (like, with for instance, the Doctor!). One of my friends gave me this hubungous calendar that I have put on my wall (in front of my computer). This entry isn't about creating "work-arounds", or ideas on how to deal with this. It's about the fact that I am realizing that this disease is affecting, and effecting my body, and my life in ways that are, shall we say, surprising. Although they did happen to spot a couple of really lonely brain cells, the MRI/CT/XR above the neck showed no active Cancer. No stroke or Heart Attack. No reason at all for this phenomena to be actively existing in my world. I, on the other hand, am a "Why?" guy. I cannot understand a thing until I understand the "why" of a thing. I know, I know. But, there ARE things we CAN know the "why" of, or to, or whatever. I took my medication this morning--didn't I? Four hours later, I'm frothin' at the piehole about it. I can't re-medicate. I must skip doses. When that happens, my numbers get screwy, my bloodwork gets me a previously uninvited audience with Dudette who, like it or not, I can always seem to remember! I pace the floor, looking at my hands, wondering what it is that is going on inside my body that I can neither touch, feel, sense, smell, or taste. Those are, after all, our first confirmation techniques. I do not have Parkinson's Disease, or Alzheimer's. (Well, Half-Heimer's or Sometimer's Disease, maybe!), or any other neuro causation for this particular difficulty. Perhaps the three opportunities for my brain to be completely deprived of Oxygen have had a side effect that neither I, nor anyone else, foresaw. Is it permanent? Is it about the combination of the drugs? Is it just age? I'm 51 years old. Everybody KNOWS that's too old for most humans to live, anyway. Ancient. So, what's the point? When you are called upon this journey, friend, things get scary. You spend a lot of time flinchin' about things that, just last week, had no effect on you whatsoever. Your mind goes places you didn't even know was places. Even the simplest things become points of obsession for the patient. If you have a loved one called upon this journey, this is one of the first noticable differences in them that you will see. After all the jokes, the kidding, and the dismissal, I urge you to sit down and talk about it. More importantly, for those of you giving care, listen to it. Just let your loved one talk about it. In my particular world, there isn't really a somebody (yet) to talk to about the obsession I am developing that I don't even know what I am forgetting. Like the Pop Tarts, for instance, that I put in the Toaster FOUR HOURS AGO! (Just remembered, brb) Is it dangerous? Not yet. Is it "just a part of the process?" Well, perhaps not usually, and not usually at this early point. Is it a later point than I am able, or willing to recognize and/or accept? Who know? Who can tell? And, if they can, will they? <Sigh> So, I obsess. I track my trail constantly (that's how I remembered--finally--that I am hungry!) Yep, that can get scarey. Me and Dudette's gonna have another talk about all this tomorrow. The things that a body learns on this journey are sometimes scary. Sometimes, it's astounding. Sometimes, it's amazing. Sometimes, it's just plain terrifying. Remember that. This too, shall pass. But, before you can get beyond any single thing in this life, you must first figure out a way to get through it. And, that can become an obsession. In His Care, Budroe |
| To those who know me best, this entry will come as no surprise. To those who do not know me, or are just coming to know me, this entry may give some insight into the purposes, and reasons for my life. There comes, very rarely in this world, and only ever once in a great while, a person whose simple existence betters the world. These people are usually not high-profile celebrities, or storied heroes. Simply by the living of their lives, quietly yet profoundly, the world is forever changed because they exist. I hope that you have known, do know, or will come to know such a person. They are, by nature, unassuming, easy-going, and filled with a character that all who know them want to emulate. They do not seek, and very seldom receive recognition. Yet, they profoundly affect all around them. On this date, in the year 1943, one of those people began their Earthly life. Her name was Marcia Barton Fields, and she was my eldest Sister. She was a child of hope and joy, who gave purpose to a lonely Mother, and resolute ambition to a father, serving his country in a far-away land--during the perilous times of World War II. Her Auburn hair, often described by those who helped raise her, was the color of "a shiny new penny". Her sparkling eyes of green could laugh all by themselves, or pierce with fierce detemination right into the center of a soul. Her laughter was addictive, and infectious. I have seen my Sister start laughing, and an entire room of thousands helplessly and genuinely fall into a chorus of laughter. She was always aware of her presence, and her position, yet never let anyone around her feel unimportant--even her baby "Bee-zerko!" Brother. It was Marcia who, very early in my life, gave me my life's purpose. As my babysitter (among others), Marcia would take me with her to her practice sessions at our home church, where she was a substitute organist, supporting her music teacher (our organist). Marcia was a musician, but then so were her parents. She used to ask me to sit with her at the organ console, yet I always wound up sitting in the center of the front pew of the Sanctuary. She would play, and I would invariably begin laughing. It would be many years later that this behavior was finally explained to her. She thought I was laughing at her playing. This would infuriate her to distraction, causing her to practice longer, harder, and with more determination to make me stop laughing. Unfortunately, the more she would play, the more I would laugh, giggle, and squirm on the front pew. Finally, in utter frustration (which I did not know), she would slam down the console cover, grab my hand, and leave the church. We would go to the Drug Store, where I would always get a scoop of Butter Pecan Ice Cream, and a Cherry Coke (the original--fountain cherry coke, mind you!). Even as a youngster, Marcia always considered me a person worthy of her time, and her words. We would, even then, spend hours talking about all things. Many years later, my Sister and I finally had a discussion she had been preparing, for years, to have. She reminded me of those days at the Church. She told me of her complete frustration at my laughing at her when she practiced. "Why did you always laugh at my playing? It used to drive me beserk!" (Thus, the nickname.) "Oh, I wasn't laughing at you, Marcia. I was laughing at the Angels that used to play around the pipes of the Organ when you played. They were having such fun, I wanted to have that kind of fun, too. I was laughing with the Angels, when you played." That is, still to this day, a real memory for me. Marcia played her faith in such a way that even the Angels celebrated. She spoke her faith through the instrument so very clearly that her testimony changed many hearts. She was also a very celebrated vocalist, with one of the most delightful Soprano voices I have ever heard. To hear her sing "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth" (from Handel's "Messiah") was a life-changing moment. Hers was, somehow, a ministry of music. As a very young child, hidden deep within the beloved Appalachian Moutains of Southeastern Kentucky, I knew what my life's purpose would be. Marcia's last assignment for Dad was to serve as the Executive Director of the United Way in Alexandria, Louisiana. Her work there was a success that many in that community still talk about openly with admiration. She, while serving with the United Way of the Bluegrass in Lexington, Kentucky, would hire her part-time Secretary as the new Executive Director of a fledgling concept called Hospice. Together, she and the Director, Ginger Brown, would grow the most loving, caring, giving, and blessed Hospice Community I have ever known. That same agency would, many years later, come to her aid personally, shortly before her death. It would also come to the aid of her Sister, Lyn. But you see, that was just the way things were with Marcia. Hers was a life of service, of giving. Her life was very difficult, to be sure. She was also a single Mother, who determined that her child would know love, have life, and grow into a person of character. She sacrificed herself, her goals and dreams--everything, really, whenever the choice involved her child. It was a decision which she had seen worked out countless times by her own Mother. It was a "no brainer", where Marcia was concerned. Her faith, her service, and her life were seamlessly meshed into a testimony that I can only hope to ever achieve. Lessons learned by her, I have learned (at least to a small degree) from her. She has moved on Home to Heaven now. She still remains close in my life, in my world, and in my heart. I love her as much today as I did the last time I saw her. I miss her, and look forward, quite frankly, to being with her again in not so long a time. There are times when I hope she is otherwise-engaged (like so many others), and not noticing my heart. She has always been my hero in this world, yet I do not think she ever really understood just how much of a hero she truly was to me, and to countless others. I know she knew how I felt, and she took it gracefully, but with no small amount of surprise. I know that this reality meant something good for her, because she told me. Hers was a time, and a life, of heroes, yet she never once considered even the remotest possibility that she was one. Her name was Marcia F. Napier when she moved Home. But, while she may have been a hero to communities, and to even the world, she was, is, and will always be my Sister, my hero, and my friend. What her selfless, sacrificial living gave to the world does not begin to compare to what she gave to those who she so selflessly loved--simply in her living. For those of you who knew, loved, and lived life with her, you may feel blessed, or fortunate, or just plain lucky. To a young man "of the Hill People", she was all that, and just so very much more. I love her. I miss her. I am, more than anything else, just so very thankful that, of all the possibilities in the Universe, Dad allowed her to guide me for a little while. Happy Birthday, Marcia. Stay close. I love you. In His Care, Budroe |
| So, I've been wondering about that word that people tend to use around here. I've been wondering if I was "in" it, or "out" of it. Perhaps I was "in" it, but now am "out" of it. Did it move, or pass me by? Am I now "in" it, and don't know it? Does it matter one whit? So, this past week, I did some reasearch. There are some things I noticed. 1. On the left side of this Blog (as with every other Blog in Blogville) is a list. It has a title that says "Member Blogs". See it? Go ahead, I'll wait. What Blogs are on that list, and why? There are hundreds of Blogs, nay thousands of Blogs, in Blogville. Did you know that? And, they grow in number each and every day. Of the Blogs I have read, there are some that I believe are really good. I mean that they are good reads, as I prefer to read. It's a very personal list. As the Blogs attract me, some attract me to want to return, keep up, participate with, interact with, grow, share, learn and grow from. These Blogs are my Member Blog list. This is a list broken down into four parts. Each part has space for 25 entries. Just today, I put the 25th entry into my Member Blog list. So far, since joining WDC, I have been averaging five (5) new additions to that list per month. That is just about one per week. 2. The members whose Blogs appear on my Member Blogs list appeal to me, personally. I read their Blogs because they are excellently written works. They span the Blogging Universe in their style, their topics, and their personalities. But, they DO have individual personalities. These personalities appeal to me. I watch and follow these Blogs. They go on my list. 3. As I visit these Blogs, I notice things. One of the things that I notice is that just about every member with a Blog on my Members Blog list, has a Members Blog list of their own. So, it's NOT just me who keeps such a list. That makes me feel better. The lists that I read on other Member's Blog list are interesting to me, for a couple of reasons. In the first place, I have been struck with the lists of those other bloggers I read. I believe the members I read are truly excellent bloggers. It is instructive for me to note that the bloggers I read seem to share my taste in other members' blogs, as well. Specifically, some of the names on MY Member Blogs list seem to show up on THEIR Member Blogs list, as well. This is an important point. It would seem as if some of the WDC members here share my appreciation for some of the other Blogs here. As I, with individual visits, determined my appreciation for these bloggers, so must these other members have made THEIR visits, as well. This is interesting to me. The one overwhelming reality that I came away with is that those members whose Blogs I appreciate seem to appreciate (if not the same Blogs--which many do) the quality of the work represented. Is the work superior? I believe so. Is the work specific? Nope, the Blogs are as diverse as the writers of them. Is the list limited to a particular group? Nope, and this is what led to another revelation for me. 4. The lists are NOT identical. Some of the members I follow have Blogs THEY follow which I have never seen. When I am taking the time to visit another Blog, I do look at their Member Blogs list. I do not take their list specifically as a recommendation, mind you. I see a new (which is to say, previously unknown to me) Blog. I know only that this Blog is of interest to the person whose Blog I am reading. I will, from time to time, click on this unknown Blog, to see if it interests me. Sometimes, it does. Sometimes, it doesn't so much. The point is, I visit a new Blog. When I am impressed with the new Blog, I will comment. I let the "new" Blogger know that I visited. I let them know what impressed me, and why. I thank them for their work. And, I let them know how I found them. And, then my list increases by one. 5. It is the work represented in my Member's Blog list which causes the list to exist. New Blogs are added, as those members whose work I admire, and respond to, become known to me. There is no automatic entry or exclusion to my list. Why is this such a big deal? Because, for about the fifth time, I got a communication accusing me, and many on my Member Blog list, of being in a "clique" that was unwelcoming to other members. This particular person, a member of WDC, raled against the list, the people, the Blog, and the whole idea of "exclusivity", especially as this is supposed to be an "open" community of writers. So! Here is my response to the member who wrote to me. Let it Bless yer Hearts. 1. If you want me to read your Blog: A. Have one. While every person can have a Blog, not every person should. If your "Blog" is your personal manifesto for, or against (fill in your choice here), I probably am not going to be interested. My Blog began because of one particular event in my life. My Blog is not ONLY about that event. B. While strict literary style is not required in the presentation of a Blog, basic (for me) English grammer skills are. Have a thought. Complete a sentence. Know how to spell. Grammar is a wonderful thing; use it. Separate your thoughts into small groups. Writers call them paragraphs. Do not make me do your writing work for you in my reading. C. Don't have MY personality--but have one. Be yourself! Figure out what you want to write about, and WHY! Then, do that. Consistently. D. Give me some "take-away" value. "Zemo's torqued--again!" doesn't really grab me for the next time. Offer me something of value--even if it's just a quick peek into the "what" and the "why" of your writing. Make me want to come back, and to bring one of my friends with me. E. Understand that Blogs, like life, have "down" times, too. The personality of the Blog may be completely different than the personality of the writer. That happens a lot in the writing life. Schizophrenia inside the work is, however, confusing. Tell me when you are changing directions. Use turn signals. I don't like multi-vehicle accidents--especially when I am in one for no reason. F. Communicate! And, communicate with the idea that someone (like, for instance, ME) will randomly appear and read. G. Visit other Blogs, and find some that you are really impressed with. Put them into a list--say, on the left side of your Blog. Give me an idea of what interests you. I may not find it nearly as interesting as you do. But, I might. At the very least, I will get a better understanding of YOU by looking at what interests you. That's how it works here. That's also how it works in life. How many friends do you "share" friends with? H. Grow the circle. Help us all find the new Blogs that should be read, and shared. The people who participate in my writing have led me to a really remarkable, and growing group of people on WDC who are not only among the very best writers on the site, but who have become friends in a very real way. It is very easy to stand back, and snipe. It is another thing to do the work, the quality and quantity of work, that makes your work, and your person, stand out here. If you cannot, or choose not to do this work, or to participate to such a level and/or degree that others will positively notice, then you are deciding your own fate here. These people do it. I try to do it. 2. Frankly I have no idea is I am "in" or "out" of some alleged "group" or "clique" here at WDC. I could, quite bluntly, care not one whit less. Why do you? 3. No, seriously. Why DO you care? You never once mentioned a sense of concern for my well-being. There was no evidence of selfless care on your part for my welfare. I don't know, for instance, if you have seen my writing, or like this writing. I have no idea that you know, to even that smallest degree, the person to whom you are addressing your lament. I am not, as it happens, responsible for the site, or the writing upon it. It seemed to really be all about you. 5. I've been to more than one rodeo, cowboy. I know what a "clique" is. What I see here is a loyal group of dedicated friends who continue to, daily, lay down their lives and walk alongside me through the valley. They openly, honestly, and respectfully tell me when my work stinks, and when it is up to a level of expectation that I can never even hope to accomplish. They are my friends, and I suppose that IS a "clique". The only difference is, this one is always open and available. But, like good writing, it's not automatic, or a given. For you to think otherwise not only says all that I need to know about you, but reminds me, yet once again, why I value these people so very much. 5. Wanna try for the bonus round? In His Care, Budroe |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** February is the shortest month of the year, right? Groundhog Day: February 2nd Valentine's Day: February 14th President's Day: February 20th Black History Month Well, is there any month of the year with more than three holidays in them? (I mean, legitimate holidays?) And, is Groundhog Day a legitimate holiday? What do you think? Bill Murray sure celebrated it, now didn't he? That was a rather interesting movie. It had some funny parts to it, as well...sorta. The idea of living one day over, and over, and over again puts me more in mind of an eternal Hell; especially if I got a "bad" day. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I've actually been in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania (Whew!) for the event. Call it a perk for truck drivers. We get to celebrate a LOT of holidays, in a LOT of places nobody ever heard of. The community of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania was first settled by the Deleware Indians in 1723 as a campsite. The name of the town, situated between the Alleghany and Susquehanna rivers means "the town of the sand flies". With a moniker like that, any way is up, right? The Holiday (as many of our best holidays are) is of Germanic origin. Approximately half-way between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, February 2nd was known as "Candlemas Day", and came with German settlers to the area in the early 1700's. It was a tradition for the Clergy in Germany to distribute candles to their flocks, and bless them for light and warmth "during the harsh cold of Winter". Superstition held that if the first half of Winter was fair, the second half would be harsh. And, in 1700, harsh was! Hope came first to the "town of the sand flies" by one little candle. Things have been getting out of hand ever since! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This is, for the faithful the world over, the "official" Candlemas Day Icon. In many countries and cultures, this is a high religious holiday filled with tradition, and celebration. Among the most-celebrated, Germany and Mexico are rich in Candlemas Day,or "Day de la Candaleria" celebrations. Tacos are the official food for this day in Mexican culture.One of the most famous portraits (Oil on wood) in the world-famous Tate Gallery is from 1901, and was created by Marianne Stokes. It is entitled "Candlemas Day", and is represented here: ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** It sort of gives a new meaning to the idea of February 2nd, doesn't it? The first recorded American notice of Groundhogs on Candlemas Day was just a bit confusing, but nonetheless combined a Germanic religious occasion with the honored legacy of the Delaware Indians. It came from a Berks County (Morgantown) storekeeper's (James Morris) Diary, dated February 4th, 1841: "Last Tuesday, the 2nd, was Candlemas Day, the day on which, according to the Germans, the Groundhog peeps out of his Winter quarters, and if he sees his shadow pops back in for another six weeks nap, but if the day be cloudy he remains out, as the weather is to be moderate." (The original Diary and entry may be seen at the Pennsylvania Dutch Folklore Center at Franklin and Marshall College, located in the beautiful community of Lancaster, PA. If not for the WEATHER there, I would love to call this town home.) Everybody knows Punxsutawney Phil, the rodent--right? The average "Marmota Monax", Land Beaver, Woodchuck (or Whistle Pig)--The Groundhog--is about 4-5 pounds. Not this guy. He goes 25 pounds if he goes an ounce! And, he's got handlers! He is, individually responsible for the well-being of an entire community! And, people listen! And, people believe! The Farmer's Almanac is consulted, but Phil is requested audience! Phil's been around--a long time! This year clebrate the 120th occasion of Phil's shadow being discussed openly, freely, and without embarassment. Actually, there have been several "Phils" and, according to the guy that brings him out in the funky hat--several "Philominas", too! Well, let's face it. Can YOU tell the difference? Groundhogs live between 5 (in the wild) and 10 years (in captivity). There are fan clubs. There are Newsletters. There are parties, and celebrations galore. Incidentally, this year, Phil did NOT see his shadow. According to all things Phil, that means Spring will arrive six weeks early. Today, that's a very good thing. But, to many who "rely" on this prognostication, it can be a bad thing. Farmers, for instance.... Well, Happy Groundhog Day. It looks like there are gonna be a lot of celebrations this month. I don't want to over-do. Ah, yes, the hope of Spring. Who can argue with that? And, besides, what else were you plannin' on celebratin' today? Personally, I kind of like the other tradition better. Happy Candlemas Day! In His Care (Dads, not Phils), Budroe ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
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