For Comfort

The color of the typing used in this entry is different from what has been in the past.

Did you notice?

It's brown.

Brown is a woodsy, earthy tone. 

Found in nature, also found in poop. You can choose. 

When I think of nature, it makes me think of raspberries from a briar patch. It makes me think of the bark on trees. Especially more mature trees. Trees that could tell of many events if they could speak in human terms. 

When professionals who study, deal with trees on a regular basis, speak of them. People will listen to agricultural terms.

Some people will listen to agri-woo-woo terms, most, will turn away.

Being somewhere midway on that, I'm an everything girl.

Today, life has given me a little bump in the road. My trusty steed has gone on strike. It clicked, tried to start. Just fell short of kicking in.

It seems like it would be something minor such as worn or weakened spark plug, here's hoping for that. A girl can hope & dream.

While it's a bit unsettling, it's manageable.

From my food storage, my basic needs are met. Food, food for my fur baby (PJ), toity paper, water. Of course there are other items for different types of pressing emergencies. Must have Wiley Wallaby soft black licorice, a 1001 clean jokes book, 25 MREs. The MREs may have a bland taste, they would sustain until the crises passes.

Yeah, that sort of comfort in that sort of emotional, mental sort.

While being at a 4 on a scale of 1 - 10, my comfort, today is coming from a few different sources.

Along with comfort food, I have PJ. He seems to sense that things are different, right now. I have AC on a hot day, beautiful needlework projects to complete. A smart TV with unlimited entertainment. My new laptop so I can get some work done in the interim. Focusing on what I have vs a car that hiccups instead of starting.

So much to be grateful for, focusing on that feels empowering.

What about mental comfort?

What about emotional comfort?

What about spiritual comfort?

What about financial comfort?

Having all four of these covered, all I have to do is wait for Monday.

Today is Saturday. Of course, the trusty steed would pooh out on a Saturday. As I look deeper, go for my interior when the exterior of life throws a curve ball, seeing it as a small life lesson. It makes more sense, is more acceptable than a poor me or victim of circumstances attitude.

The attitude of choice can make such a difference.

Actions taken can also make a big difference.

Using the extended time in the present, carless can also make a difference.

Positive thoughts -> Happy feelings -> Smiling when I feel like crying -> Lower cortisol level -> Choosing a healthy comfort food ->

Everything will brie all right.

The life I have in a world that I view isn't a glass that is full. It's a glass overflowing with infinite clear, unadulterated, cool water. It's overflowing as the life decisions I have made have given a good life. Far from perfect. Closer to perfect, a 7 on a 1 - 10 scale. 

As one who lives as a lady hawk, learned to live as a free spirit, learned to depend mostly on my own sheer will. Only within personal thoughts, independent attitude, strength of willing it to be so. While other people have sought to use me in exchange for giving very scant. Other people who call on me for help while leaving me somewhat unsettled, even a scant depleted for me to replenish on my own. 

I am all I have.

There are only a very few who give back to me. Some of the users are the ones I have had to eliminate or diminish contact with them.

How does one survive, even strive in this?

When the choices are to give up, wallow in all that is making me feel hopeless or get moving, choose the positive, such as ~

Exercise

Play with PJ

Get going on a project

Take a long walk

(Hopefully it will be on a long plank to match)

Indulge in creativity

Write the feelings down

(Instead of eating the feels)

Sit outside in the back yard & just listen to the birds

Start a small organizing project

When pondering on the world, the cultures of the different countries I have experienced first-hand. Then ponder on the people I have known from those cultures. Again, to ponder on the culture mixture of all the people in my own country, the USA.

People who say that people are simple are so self-misled.

Even more people who say the male gender is simple are more 

self-misled.

People who are realistic thinkers, who act in more truthful ways, who speak from truth while still being kind are simpler. In a world that tells us to tell the truth, be who you are. Then, finding out early in life that telling the truth & being who you truly are can deliver 

a 1 - 2 punch of trouble. 

Worldliness can be a bitch with 22 puppies.

Most of the comfort in life, for me, is benevolently gotten by needlework, growing things, meditation that calms the mind while elevating my spirit. Some needleworkers I have known have certain subjects they love, some that they avoid.

Band Samplers are a favorite for me. Every time a band is completed, it feels like a mini finish. Line upon line, precept on precept, prose & poetry with flowers & lace.

Beautiful children & adult people doing interesting things. Less static, more of an in-motion feel.

Flowers of all sorts. Often, it's roses or a flower with petals with a contrast center such as Gerber Daisies, Sunflowers. Stitching roses creates such easily recognized beauty though it can feel mundane.

Poetry, whether historic or original can cause intimate introspection.

That was the sweet. Here is the other.

Bugs. 

Having a strong reaction to venom in insects, especially bees makes me mostly averse to stitching bees. Though I do it sometimes if the bee is cute or more styled than realistic. Any other insects such as beetles, spiders, creepy crawly inching type bugs. Yuck.

Rodents, specifically mice. If you have had to deal with three separate rodent infestations, as I have. It might be easy to see.

The real-life mice, rats, various others that can contaminate my food storage, make nests in my hat boxes, chew a favorite book to pieces.

Those pesky rodents are neither harmless or cute.

Outside of those 2 categories, most needlework subjects are delightful ways to pass the time, to comfort in grief, to amuse.

When You Fly Solo

Having seen so many people suffering, searching, asking me how I can be so happy as a single woman. There are many skills that had to be developed so that living without a man in my life became easier.

Bug Killer - There are all sorts of critters that find their way into my home. Just 2 days ago, I was settled into my bed, hadn't turned the light off, yet. In my peripheral vision, a big black beetle climbing up the wall across from my bed. This would have made me freak out, scream, lose it a few times. The thought of that thing crawling into my bed as I slept was terrifying.

Not today, Satan Bug, not today.

I threw one of my house slippers at it to make it fall onto the floor. These beetles can move fast, I was ready. Holding both slippers in my hands, I used one to corral it, the other to kill it.

Mission accomplished.

Still shaking from the rush of fear, I laid in my bed, had to calm myself before falling asleep.

Registering my car - When I was married, the one I was married to had always registered the vehicles, didn't involve me in the process.

As silly as it may seem, I had thought that it was a one & done per car. Quite blissfully clueless about this. Thanks to the VA Officer in Graham, TX, he showed me how to use my Military Veteran status to only pay $10. to register my car. Suh-weet.

Cooking for one - This took me too long to master this. Sadly, food waste happened too often. Trial plus so many errors. It took time to learn. The temptation to just hit a drive thru was very strong. Perseverance was needed. Now, I will only buy berries that I will eat within 2 days. My coconut yogurt & berries is a go-to.

Fielding rude questions asked by strangers - How is it that you're single or why aren't you married? I stopped replying to this. A reply only produces more questions.

Do you mind if I ask your age? (actually, I do). Such a rude question.

Scammers - Many people will fall into a funk after a long relationship ends. It leaves them sad, lonely, vulnerable. Although I was lonely though not really sad as he had killed any love or respect, I ever had felt for him, 2 years prior to filing.

When I was done with his BS, I was done. I financed the divorce, I would say it was the best money I ever spent. Actually, the best was when I paid cash for my car. Then, the price paid for my Doberman.

So, financing the divorce was the third best money I ever spent.

Allowing myself to adjust to being single & living on my own was crucial to being happy. It seems that once I had done the self-help, had mostly healed, things would be great until I let a man into my life. He would have a wee all over what I had worked so diligently to build.

The last time I allowed myself to have my heart broken in 2012, is the last time I will allow it. Admitting I allowed it, I stopped.

Scammers were hitting their peak.

What the slimy romance scammers didn't know is that I was happy in my life. With another person or without, I was happy either way. Scammers could regurgitate their flowery words from their scripts. There was nothing they could offer me in their fake way that I would ever want or need. They did try. 

Both in real life as well as online. Thinking they could squeeze cash out of me.

Umm, nope.

The last time was when a guy said to me:

I want to make you happy.

My reply:

Dude, you have low goals, I'm already happy.

So, it has gone. Having spurned every scammer, I started helping others that the slimeball scammers had tried to deceive.

Being past all of that, it's so ridiculous being on the outside, peering in.

The most important part of resisting scammers is to resist panic or fear or any excessive emotion a scammer can evoke from a target.

Being a target is a matter of chance, being successfully scammed is a matter of choice.

A person can slow to impulse, keep calm, shut the scammer down.

Time is on my side - An important aspect of remaining single & celibate is to fill my time as needed. Just short of the hustle culture, the aim is less about filling the time as it is filling it as needed.

Holidays & Birthdays - One deeply painful aspect was that the holidays stopped existing for me. Whereas I used to get 15 - 20 Christmas cards, now, I get 3, sometimes even 4! There are 2 people, dear to my heart, who remember me on nearly every occasion. Gifts, cards. Some are personally wrapped (love those). Some are a thoughtful item sent from Amazon. Still very thoughtful.

Some would consider me as a night owl. The preference is for being considered a Lady Hawke.

 

 

Just Because

Because only the one that it lives inside

Heart Mind Soul all in one small body

Smiles they smiled the tears they cried 

Cried at night when only they could hear

In the ringing of the loudest of silence

Echoing in waves of wonder of fear

No one is allowed to speak their personal truth

Hi how are you I'm doing well all day every day

Bloody scrapes are seen heartbreaks leave no proof

 

People are the way they are when shaped by living

A scant few cares about triumph or great sorrow

Only what they can squeeze out of the giving

Just because someone seems as if they are thriving

Under the surface of soft light shining out

There are mountains of their struggles of striving

The soliloquies that keep changing or repeating

Keep up the effort of spirited hopeful defiance

Which holds strong a battered heart to keep beating

Winners Circle

When receiving a very happy event, the hardest part of it for me is to keep it to myself. With a very giving nature it's difficult to do this. It felt good to share my happy news, to share what I could with others.

Learning to keep positive events to myself, telling no one or almost no one is something I have had to work on for most of my life. Mostly, when someone gets a large influx of lucre, other people are rarely just happy for the one who received it. Most people will go after the fortunate one for a piece of the pie. 

Nearly a sense of entitlement even if the person has not been a part of the fortunate one's life for a few years. Even if they weren't there for them when they went through hard times. Even if they did them dirty, they become all about apologizing, the faux request to do lunch or reconnect or some such BS. flows out of them like sludge.

Even if the one favored by fortune gives a bit just to be kind, they will chant their sad stories, their rediscovered caring.

As my father was fond of saying:

"Even if pigs flew out of my ass."

Thanks, daddy!

Having experienced this in recent years, I know what to watch out for.

Absence of the pigs, lol.

Except the greedy human sort.

Seeing the large win, I believe, was a prelude. A way of teaching me a lesson that was necessary to learn. One that would benefit me for future events. Though I did share with a few people, they kept coming to me asking for more.

Out of the 10 people I gifted, only 2, outside of blood family were grateful without trying to milk more from me. A sad phrase that applies to this is that it's when true friends reveal themselves. Unfortunately, it's also when fakers do the same. The big reveal.

People, for all time, have been on the Earth to learn lessons. A great many lessons whether casual or more complex. By tuning in to the world around you that is both seen as well as unseen, there is a wealth of knowledge all around. Being tuned in to recognize the opportunities is a tremendous aid. It can be something as simple as a wild bird or a butterfly landing just outside a window you're gazing out of or even on you.

These creations of nature put themselves at risk if/when they do get so close to a person. Being at the top of the food chain, humans are predators with the ability to cause great help or harm to them sometimes even death.

It's easy to ignore this or pooh pooh it away. Give a more mainstream explanation for it even if only to yourself.

Being a spiritual person, less of a religious person, paying attention to the beautiful happenings around me has led me to some nearly miraculous events. Also have been protected from harm.

A mystic said something once that stuck in my mind is:
"Money is like blood, it must flow. Holding onto it causes sludging, entropy, premature aging & disease."

This doesn't mean to go on spending sprees. It's a cautionary piece of advice to spend money carefully on that which is worth it. Simple.

Most of life's difficult though beneficial lessons take time, hard introspection to learn. Then the effort to integrate the lessons learned into the day to day.

As for me & my life lessons I think I have finally learned to zip it.

There's life, then there's life

People say it's just life. We are born we live our lives, then, we die. It's easy to say this until the death of someone you love touches you. Having always taken the tenderness of the pain in people's hearts seriously, it makes me happy that I have.

Pain is pain

Grief is pain

Loss is pain

Emotional hurt is pain

When each of my children stuck it to me, telling me what I did when they were children that hurt them. I took into consideration that this was pain, their own private pain whether I remembered differently or not.

It mattered far less who was right or who was wrong.

It hurt me deeply that all of my sacrifice, work, time, sleepless nights, love, care were not acknowledged near as much or not commensurate with the harm they say I caused. Just this cult like thingy that many adult children have hopped on the bandwagon of.

I had pain that they had also caused in me.

I say sincerely, it was important to push my own pain aside, acknowledge my adult children's pain, apologize to them for pain that they say I caused. Because their own pain needed healing & I love them dearly, so, I apologized over & over when they told me of their pain. This went on for over 5 years until I finally let them know that I had apologized so many times so that they could heal, move on from it. It was time for them to heal, move on from it.

If a wound is to heal you must stop touching it.

If you know that your parent(s) had a terrible childhood, show some decency, some compassion. Show the compassion you hope your own children show you when they persecute you for all that they say you did wrong. Whether you meant to or not. Whether you remember it the way they do or not. It often happens full circle.

Right now, I'm going through some gunk that will take time to heal from. Some people have suggested going to a counselor.

Having had exactly one counselor do some good for me out of the nine I have gone to over the years. The others only harmed me.

The last counselor I went to violated ethics by lying to me, probably thinking I was clueless enough to not know what was done. That hurt even more than the pain I was seeking counseling for.

I'm intelligent enough to figure it out.

Have to deal with this, myself.

When I talk to a couple of friends, it feels like I'm over-burdening them. Saying a "couple" I mean there are only two.

Learning to take care of things on my own, it's impossible for me to trust anyone else. After so much hurt, so much betrayal that eroded my ability to trust.

There were six children in my original family. With my brothers passing on May 10 2026, now, there are three of us left.

Ironically or maybe not, we are the ones who never smoked. Barely touched alcohol or not at all. Hmm. 

Now, the youngest of us, the eldest sibling & I remain.

Blogging or really any writing helps with the grief. It has to take the place of going to a counselor. Whether healing quicker or slower, it is what I have.

Since my brother's death it feels like I have been floating between tears then sadness then feeling numb then tears again. Repeat.

It's only been 4 days, so, still fresh.

If I were a drinker or other substance user I would be living in a haze.

If I hadn't eliminated excess sugar from what I eat, I would be close to the bottom of a gallon of chocolate ice cream.

Letting myself indulge away in doing needlework is my band aid. When I was in Utah recently, I found that a store sold Vernors. Since living in Texas, I have ordered it from Amazon. A bit pricey, I can handle it, so, it was worth it, all good. Vernors is a ginger ale that is a standout from any other ginger ale.

It's from Michigan, like me.

It's a comfort item. As a child, mom had hot Vernors for us when it was cold outside. If we had been ice skating or sledding or after trick or treating, hot Vernors warmed us up every time.

In the hot, humid Michigan summers we had what was called a Boston Cooler. Ice cold Vernors with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

YUM!

Having my Vernors (without the ice cream) is a comfort to me as I mourn the loss of my brother. Since I received an eviction notice by text from a coward I rent from, I have to prepare to move.

The cherry on top is the loss of income from the career I loved.

This shall pass. It will pass like a kidney stone, still, it will pass.

So happy that I have such a great dog. PJ is such a comfort to me. He seems to know I'm going through some stuff. He is a clingy dog, which I love. He has been more of a Velcro pup lately. Love it.

Since I can't sleep due to all of the upheaval, I'm getting things done that need to be done. It's just me & PJ here, when I break down in sobs there is no public spectacle. 

Crying in public is so embarrassing. 

It doesn't matter what the reason is. It's just tacky.

That's way too much attention for me when strangers show sympathy or just gawk. Having never been the drama queen, never wanted the overkill attention. People used to tell me I'm pretty or beautiful or some such. 

Now that I have PJ, people tell me my dog is beautiful, I like that so much better. Being complimented by people I don't know made me feel like a hunted prey or like they were just buttering me up to try to sell something to me or get something from me.

Deep in my being, I feel things changing.

Being more of a spiritual person than a religious one, it seems that I feel more than most people, feel it deeper than others. Being keenly aware of spiritual presences, entities around me, I feel it.

Those who don't believe it, have never experienced it or grav toward the SNL Church lady are secure in denial of spiritual truth.

     For centuries, different cultures rotated between persecuting those with knowledge of spiritual things to executing them. Most people are familiar with the Salem Witch Trials in the early USA days.

The 1692 Pendle Witch Trials in Great Britain.

Those who were persecuted, executed or ostracized set up the modern-day fear of being thought of as different or weird. 

Modern attitudes toward spirituality aren't carried in "magic genetics". They survive as psychological traits shaped by our evolutionary history. Humans have evolved innate cognitive mechanisms to guard against people who think, talk, believe differently.

That's me.

For these reasons, remaining single, unattached with only a very small number of people who I confide in. Even with them, sometimes, it's necessary to hold back so as not to overburden.

Anyone who wishes to unlock the spiritual side of themselves, here is a list of books to start. Remember that the words & information are very revealing, powerful, will change you forever. 

You have been told.

The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck

The Master Key System

The Kybalion

Outsmarting Reality

Propaganda by Edward Bernays

Read People Like A Book by Patrick King

Life on Planet Earth

Lies, deceit, treating others badly. That is the world we live in. Having a strong sense of discernment is a paradoxical condition, especially when someone lies to me while believing that I'm clueless enough to believe their lie.

Trust then verify.

I take that back; I stopped trusting a long time ago. Now, it's all about verifying. Only using my time wisely when the person is a practiced, highly skilled liar, to verify.

Although when people lie to me, their flowery words, smoke screen Christian declarations are just noise. Their body language, verbiage in print or in speech gives them away every time. Being only human, imperfect, I won't wear a cross or hang one anywhere. People's actions, the way they conduct business, caring so much about gain, attempts to get over on others, sticking it to them just because they can.

Having the experience of being told a pack of lies, recently, it actually made me laugh.

My beloved maternal grandfather told me a handful of times to watch how a person's actions are regarding money. He told me that a person who lies about money, who manipulates others to get money or uses it to manipulate others speaks volumes about their integrity or lack of.

Furthermore, he said that if a person is untruthful about money, they are also untruthful in many aspects of how they treat their fellow humans.

Liars as well as lies are a cancer that erodes humanity. Eventually, the devils do reap as they have sown. 

Sometimes, we get to witness it.

Pop the popcorn, take a seat!

Whom do you trust

Whom do you respect

Who is worthy of it

Who will you protect

The world is full of demons

With a being Christian smoke screen

Their ruse is like cherries are lemons

Rarely virtuous as they seem

Organized religion is the perfect cover

To lay out a believable snare

Words flow out of their mouths

Saying that they care

Truth being told in public

In truth it's only lies

Demons wearing crosses

Too late victims realize

Churches are only wood only stone

Lacking the magic people think

Sitting in a barn won't turn one into a horse

When one's morals are so low they stink

The times we mortals are living in

Are perilous to a tender heart

Battered then bruised so badly

Trust is shattered to break it apart

Be true to yourself trusting no one

To keep your tender heart from the fall

Wait patiently until the evil liars

Find that karma is real after all

Just me, a perspective

I was born on crisp autumn day. Quite helpless as I was blind & deaf. Everything around me was different. The air felt so cold on my skin. Mom probably didn't appreciate all the noise. I couldn't even hear myself. So weird.

As I caught a whiff of something, it drew me to it as if by instinct.

Probably because it actually was instinct, it was so strange & familiar at the same time. I could barely move, just scooted on my belly.

The scent was stronger as I slowly crept closer to the warmth.

Barely able to open my mouth, I cried out for my mother to help me, she was busy doing other things. My jaw felt so tight, struggling to open my mouth. 

Then, there it was.

Struggling with all of the strength I could muster, I pushed my snout until it made contact with the warm, delicious source. Then, I discovered that whatever it was, I could taste it though I had never tasted anything before then. 

It was then that I discovered that I had competition. There were only 4 others like me, they were also discovering the warm deliciousness with the sweet scent. I was quite content to suckle on it, even though I had 4 others to compete with. Then, one by one, more competition arrived. 

Seven more competitors.

When I started to feel a warmth from the sweet liquid that came out when I suckled, I started to become very sleepy. One of the others like me had nudged me aside so they could suckle. 

I fell over on my back, I was so blissed out, I didn't care. The sweet, suckled stuff had a calming effect. 

Within 7 hours, I had lots of company which meant more competition in suckling. The interlopers smelled like me & smelled like my mother at the same time.

Where was daddy? He was such a busy one.

I found out about him much later.

Drifting off in a state of contentment, I went. As the effect of the suckle stuff wore off, I woke up. My first taste was so much easier to get, now I had to compete with 11 others.

"Hey! Mommy! Do you know where that long wet pink thing in your mouth is going?"

"Personal space, mom! Ohh, that's why you're doing that. OK, Cool."

Something warm trickled out from inside me. It wasn't suckle juice.

My life was quite easy as time went on. Competing with the others to suckle was a drag. Falling asleep with the others in a pile to keep each other warm was nice. When my belly felt the ache from hunger, something inside me told me to start scooting toward the sweet suckle smell. It was paramount to my survival to be able to smell everything, especially suckle stuff. 

Eyesight & hearing are overrated. 

Mom was right there along with the 11 other competitors.

This was a sweet time at the start of life for me. Then, one day after so many suckle times & lickings from mom, I heard something. At first, it was a bit soft then gradually became louder. 

It was the others. I could hear the others. 

Had I become a Borg puppy?

It was the others, like me, making the squeak & squeal as we twisted our ways to the milk bar. If I squeaked the loudest, mom gave me a little help in my awkward scooting. It eliminated some of the competition for suckle juice.

Poor mom.

She didn't squeak, just laid down, let all of us get our fill before she left for a short time. It sounded a bit like she might have found a source for her own suckle juice. I fell back onto three of the others, fell asleep until I was awakened by the 11 others making so much noise. 

I knew that I had better get over there if I wanted to fill the ache in my stomach that was growing stronger. Then, I felt a sharp stab on my belly. One of the others was crawling over me to get to the milk bar. The other one had sharp little things that dug into me as they clawed for traction, going over my back, my belly, my head.

"Ouch! Hey dude, not cool, that really hurt me. NOT COOL!"

With the others making so much noise, then, I joined them. It brought mom back to us. We learned how to get our mothers attention. Things were going quite well.

We piled on each other to stay warm as we slept, waking up to squeal for our mother to feed us. This was a pretty sweet life. 

Little did I know how quickly it would change.

At first, it was just a blur of suckling, sleeping, waking up to suckle again.

It was about 100 or so suckles later that I felt a weird feeling on my face right above the place that drew me to my mom. It was a bit frightening at first. Then, I experienced a soft filtered light coming in through the places on my face above what I realized was my smeller. My nose? I guess?

This was new.

Now, I could hear the racket made by the others, I could see blurry balls moving around. What was this?

Although they may have all looked alike, I could tell the difference. All of them had smelled like mom at first, now, they were developing a scent of their own. 

As awkward as this may sound, my own personal scent was also changing. It was a little bit like mom, becoming my own unique scent with time. Everything was ever so slowly changing. For me, anyway. 

A big change that happened one day was when I woke up with most of my tail missing. 

In fact, all of my brothers & sisters' tails were also missing. I went to sleep with it, woke up without it. It was nowhere to be seen.

Most of mom's tail was missing, too.

So weird.

There were so many things that were more important, soon, we had all decided to concentrate on suckling, sleeping, keeping each other warm. There was no memo, all of us just accepted it, did it. 

We were a family. Just to be clear, an all-Doberman family.

Dogs have been known to care for babies that are from a different mother, even from a different species.

Was there anything else?

In time I would find out. So many different types of animals, dogs, cats, birds, squirrels, opossums, raccoons, so much more out there.

Later on, I learned that all of them smell completely different even if

they look so closely alike.

Time went on with important things like sleeping, suckling, playing with my brothers, sisters. Sometimes even mom joined in. Not dad. He must have been off competing in shows, making more suckle chasers like me. He would go out into the big yard sometimes to run, to play, to roll in the grass. I wanted to be like him when I was done with suckling.

That time arrived soon. All of us were getting so big, we were suckling the life out of mom just to survive. She did seem more tired with time. She was also standing up to let us suckle on her. It was tough on mom. She seemed less patient, less calm than ever before.

One morning when we were all kicking up a ruckus for food, mom was off doing other things. There was a new, strange smell. It was brought out by one of the tall ones then placed on the floor. As all of us went over to check it out, the tall one offered some of it to me first. I felt so special. Opening my mouth to try to suckle it, it had a completely different smell, not as warm as the suckle juice. It was easier to get to as my competition was less sure about it than I was.

That soon changed as the others caught on.

Once, again, I had competition, lots of competition as the others caught on, began lapping up this new suckle. It was solid. It was only a short time before it had the same effect. All 12 of us puppy piled to stay warm as we slept. Mom was there less, now, the new food mostly replaced the suckle juice. We still suckled just a little, there was less to go around. 

Our suckle time was slowly evolving into actual eating, playing together outside. Plus, of course, making fudge & lemonade together.

Life was pretty much the same most days, after that. Eat, sleep, play, sometimes a little play time with mom. We were all getting bigger. The new food fattened us up a bit now that we were eating it all the time. No more suckle juice, just playing with mom.

One day, we were piled in the car, we were in the car for a long time. We were used to car trips, just ones that were shorter than this was. We had food with us, no mom, just the tall ones. We were taken into a very strange place. The scents, the noises, they were so different. More tall ones. One by one we were taken by one of the tall ones. When each one of my siblings came back close to me, not close enough that I could touch them. Then, it was my turn. The tall ones looked at me in that sweet way. Soon after that, one of them was petting me, keeping me soothed. Then, there was "the pinch". There was not much soon after that except, when I woke up, half of each of my ears were missing. There was no pain, it just itched.

All of us looked so regal in our different colored crowns. Looking at each other, sniffing each other. All of us smelled exactly the same. Was that the purpose? To smell exactly the same?

Then, the biggest change of all. The tall ones were looking at us, more, playing with us to see what our personalities were. They did some weird things. Placing each of us flat on the back to see how we reacted. Then one by one, picked each of us up by behind front legs, holding under front legs. Then, just holding up in the air with back legs dangling. Among us, my sister who was born before me, seemed to understand what was going on, the most. Typical older sister, she was quite smart, though.

One day, the tall ones were getting ready to do something. I wasn't quite sure. They were making noises at each other a lot. Fiddling with things, then putting the things they fiddled with in a pouch, then, putting everything in a bigger pouch. These tall ones often did some very strange things which I'm sure had a purpose. Hope so.

The tall one who seemed very motherly, picked me up, cuddled me in her lap. She was stroking my head, my ears, my neck. I became so sleepy, nothing mattered to me. Just the comforting strokes, a warm lap, being cuddled. She had done this before, this time felt different.

I had fallen asleep in the tall one's lap with clean fur, a full belly. Even the loudness of my siblings didn't matter. They could be so loud when one of them started up, the others followed. Sometimes I had joined in, though it gave me such a hurting head. Puppy problems.

Later on that day, a new tall one showed up. I was resting comfortably in the motherly tall ones lap. The new tall one approached, the two were making noises at each other. The new one reached out slowly to softly stroke my back. It felt nice though I didn't realize where this was going. More like where I was going.

The tall ones noised at each other for a while. The new tall one went with the motherly one to see my dad. This tall one also seemed very motherly. She gazed at my brothers & sisters. She looked at them, didn't touch their backs like she did when she first saw me. Hmm.

After lots of noising at each other, I was placed in the new motherly tall ones arms. It seemed that something was about to happen. Something that would change the course of my whole life.

The lime green collar that was on my neck was removed. A new collar with a different scent was fastened around my neck. The new tall one, took me in her arms, carried me out to a new thing with wheels. I was placed in the front seat beside her. It felt so strange, hollow, empty & a little cold. It startled her, made her smile when I crossed the barrier between us to sit in her lap. That is where I stayed for a long time. It was a bit scary; I could no longer hear the others.

My connection to the others had been severed. Maybe it was that I was no longer connected. I had left the borg puppy collective.

This was where my new life, in a new living space, with new tall ones had begun. There were new rules, new places.

The best part?

New toys, all for me.

This is the when

 

When you have been taking care of yourself plus a few other people for your whole life. Does it get any easier, like, ever? A counselor once told me that I had learned to be a super shock absorber. 

When faced with too many sink or swim occurrences in life, I had to learn to swim. Even taught myself how to actually swim in water.

Many different ways that life has tried to beat me down. Knowing that it has to be me to comfort myself. Has to be me to pick myself up, make a plan, heal myself with almost anything that isn't food or drink. Numbing myself with substances is also a no-fly zone.

When I find myself in a rut or a funk or when someone hurts me, emotionally, spiritually. It's all on me to heal myself. With each experience, figuring out what to do, having a plan B,C,D.E.

Some people will say that it borders on hatred & cynicism when I stay closed up, protecting my vulnerabilities. Choosing safety, peace & happiness over trauma, being used is a choice I will always make.

In this world where so many people love money, will do just about anything to anyone to get more money. More ...More...More.

No amount is ever enough.

So, chasing the almighty lucre, often stepping on others to get to it.

That's when the beast of gold oozes in. 

The golden rule.

The ones with the most gold can make their own rules.

Watching the people around me as they go through life with the sour & the sweet. I noticed that when they are grieving, there are people around them. Checking on them. Taking them out for lunch or dinner. Sending flowers to them, writing messages of encouragement.

It's rare that people do that for me. My dear friend, Janice, is my rock-solid friend. Known each other for most of our lives. She says that I am like that for her as well. Which is very nice. Win-Win.

After a 16 hour drive, arriving at my destination. A whole week or more of time with family. 

When I finally made it, me & my big beautiful Doberman, PJ. The bold, beautiful adventure started.

There were adjustments made, for sure. Going from 500 ft above sea level to 4,500 or so above sea level. The dryness, the adjustment.......

yeah.

It has been absolutely wonderful. It's easy to forget how much I love & miss family members until we embrace once again.

Duty Honor Service - Step into your future

At one time, being on the streaming service bandwagon seemed cool. As I sat down to review my finances, I realized that I barely used four out of the five I was paying for. Narrowing it down to CBS All Access which became Paramount+ or Netflix.

Netflix got rid of most Star Trek so, the one streaming service I kept was Paramount+ with Showtime.

The point was less about saving money, more about keeping from wasting it on that which I no longer used or needed.

When it was first announced that a new series was coming, it was more than just another new series. It was a new STAR TREK series. 

Having been fascinated by nearly every Star Trek series, being willing to start with zero expectations or preconceived notions.

So, it began.

Star Trek: Starfleet Academy

From the first glimpse of a 21 years of age, Caleb Mir (Sandro Rosta) towering over Chancellor Nahla Ake (Holly Hunter) looking ragged, angry, full of contempt from having his mother taken from him at the tender age of 6 years. 

His mother taught him how to survive in a ruthless, cruel, often dangerous world that often has zero compassion for a starving child.

Granted, Sandro Rosta is a full foot or taller than Holly Hunter. Chancellor Ake stood firm, laid out her plan.

It helps that Sandro is sah-moking hot. I felt the sizzle. Long ago I learned to ID the spark of intelligence in a person's eyes. Pretty can only take a person so far. Good manners, intelligence, humility, a great sense of humor, wide ranging vocabulary can go far. Sandro definitely has it going on, thank you God for this gorgeous guy!

His character Caleb Mir has some of the best clap back lines. 

BAM!

I was drawn in like a hummingbird to sugar water.

It has been so sweet since then.

Endeavoring to avoid spoilers, there will most likely be a few. Stop reading right here, if you would rather avoid all spoilers.

So far this series, which covers the return of Starfleet Academy, is so diverse. It introduces so many different races. Races that were present long ago as well as new ones & new adaptations of prior. Also a few mixes of races from different planets, entirely.

Jem Hadar/ Klingon

Klingon/Tellurite

Cherons

Orions

Khionian (They vomit glitter.)

The first Photonic cadet, ever.

Dar-sha

Of course there are returning roles such as "The Doctor" who we first met on Star Trek: Voyager

His renditions of live opera performance are impressive.

Commander Jet Reno 

(Tig Notaro) was first introduced in ST Discovery. She seems to always have a deceased wife or a living girlfriend. She's very snarky. 

Several more.

Loving all of it, it's heart breaking to me to see how so many people rip it to shreds. Many of them want the same Star Trek over & over with very little difference.

If social media had been as prolific when STNG premiered, it would have most likely faced the same cutting, backlash trashing hatred.

Starfleet Academy is a fresh new take on cadets that are mostly teenagers, just starting their Starfleet careers they are often referred to as zygotes or little chickens or even kids.

Because they are.

That's what I love. 

The freshness of it, the newness of it, the molding of young intelligent minds to explore the universe together with wonder.

Maybe I'm easier to please than most, maybe my mind is more opened. Not so open that my brains fall out. Just curious.

Curious about everything. Open to possibilities, wonders of the world & beyond to be discovered. To be experienced, enjoyed, enriching life as we know it.

There are just enough returning aka legacy characters to give it a feeling of continuity while still retaining the freshness.

Admiral Charles Vance

Commander Jet Reno

Lt Sylvia Tilley

The Doctor

Dax

Loving the show, staying up to see it when it dropped at 0200 every Thursday. Having prepped some yummies earlier in the day for each new episode, a sci fi love fest that Erica Ortegas would love.

Granted, she is in a different series ~ ST Strange New Worlds. Her oft used line - Bring Snacks - resonates with many trekkies like me.

Usually it's kimchi & stuffed eggs.

Sometimes, keto cloud bread wraps with goat cheese & kalamatas

Homemade Korean beef kabobs with shrooms & pineapple.

Still coming up with new recipes for when the new seasons air.

In the interim, watching the Artemis II footage is fascinating.

If you care at all about ST SFA.

https://c.org/tQtGfMfLhB