Kindness


How lovely to think that no one need wait a moment. We can start now, start slowly, changing the world. How lovely that everyone, great and small can make a contribution toward introducing justice straightaway. And you can always, always give something, even if it is only kindness!”

Anne Frank

*photos courtesy of Google

350million diabetics worldwide and millions more at risk -Pre-Diabetes


I guarantee there is someone you know, perhaps even in your own family that is living with Type 11 diabetes without knowing it. If not, they are well on their way to pre-diabetes. Please read and be aware. See an endocrinologist for help if needed. This condition is an epidemic, particularly in the US, but can be prevented, even reversed with proper nutrition, treatment and care. Thank you. Sally, for an excellent post!

Smorgasbord - Variety is the spice of life

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A longer post today but I wanted to get the details together in one article and I hope you will find compelling enough to read, if not for yourself but for a family member or friend who might be at risk.  This is not about Type I diabetes or even those who have been diagnosed with Type II.. It is about the millions worldwide who are at high risk of Type II which is predominately lifestyle and diet related.

According to the World Health Authority it is estimated that there are 350 million people worldwide with diabetes. In the US around 30 million and the UK approximately 3.2 million have been diagnosed. Unfortunately it is the many millions who are undiagnosed that are at the greatest risk

You do not need to have full-blown diabetes to be suffering from some of the symptoms associated with the disease. There is a…

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Discovering New Memories


Soaking the sun in Arizona. Oh, how it feels so good. Warm to my skin, touch me now. Press lightly on pink until cream paints to blush. Butterfly wings tattooed across the bridge of my nose.

The desert dances a recital to melodies my ears and eyes rarely hear or see. Imaginary tunes of sharp in unusual shapes of cactus land or dreams of an orchestra conducting sherbet colors across a spectacular sunset in an endless sky. Look! Northern Lights rising above peaks of mountain tips.

Leaves do not drop from trees. Palms of olive sway slightly, first to the left than to the right in the warmth of a breeze. Cactus’s sprout short or tall, or prickly balls in large and small sit on top of dusty soil. Puckered lips, blow some dust. Poof! One would never know a single speck had even disappeared. Nature’s trick you see.

I’ve been to the desert many times, lived in it years ago, bore a child here and began to raise babies near the colored sand. Still, each and every time I visit for a second or a minute there is something new to see. A cactus never seen before. Flowers sprouting wild in nothing more than rusted dust. Liquid dribbling where one would swear forever dry. Turn your head, SURPRISE! Hidden in the grass are bunnies larger than soon-to-be Easter Rabbits!

Newly discovered memories to pocket for my St. Louis home.

REMINDER – If you are already in my #Blog #Authors Hall of Fame…


Such a generous gift from our dear friend, Chris.

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

This Authors Platform also intended to help you remind people that you and your books still exist…

SO…

Once you haveappeared as a Guest Author, you can submit further articles about any subject you’d like to share, providing they’re Family Friendly.

There is no restriction to how often you make further such appearances, once per month is a recommended minimum, but not mandatory.

Why do I recommend that authors who have already been guests, send me further articles about topics they’d like to share, or “HowTo’ informative articles?

It helps keep them (and subsequently, their works) in the public mind and eye, especially if they have them posted regularly, e.g., once per month.

It gives authors the opportunity to prove and demonstrate their writing talents are not just limited to the books and stories they’ve already written.

It’s much more effective than constant spam-like “Buy My’ campaigns…

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Tangible Time


Hourglass handQuiet in my office space today except for the sound of clothes tumbling in a dryer a few rooms away. Things to get done before I’m on my way. Off to visit my father in Arizona tomorrow. Yes, leaving on an old familiar jet plane to soar above into a golden setting sun off the tips of shiny silver wings.

So much to do with extra excitement too. Lots of relatives to visit during my brief stay among the tall green saguaros within a painted desert land. My precious father of course, together with my father-in-law and my dearest great-aunt. In addition, I look forward to seeing three of my siblings and other relatives who live nearby. My husband and I will be very busy!

My great-aunt, who I love so very much is not doing well. She hasn’t been for quite some time. Now blind from her own Chronic Condition of Glaucoma, she’s not able to telephone me anymore. How I miss our giggling chats! I’ve written about her before, once on New Year’s Eve http://wp.me/p41md8-Uo , and it wasn’t long ago that I scooped her up for a visit to St. Louis. But, even then, I knew she would probably never be coming back.

I will treasure my Arizona memories perhaps like never before. Besides squeezing a frail hand of my precious great-aunt, the touch of my father and father-in-law will feel differently this time. The warmth of their skin will be soaked like a sponge, their hugs imprinted for only me to see. Time has become tangible as I feel my loved ones aging closer toward Heaven.

 

The Gift of An Unexpected Day

Oh to cluster sands of coral within an hourglass of time

Seconds trickle silently

Speck by speck, grain by grain

Falling through clear 

Dropping one by one

Ever s-l-o-w-l-y not to hear

Reaching bottom

Single seconds drifting into precious minutes

Until the gift of another day may come my way

What Teachers REALLY do


For my daughter-in-law and all teachers everywhere.

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These days it has become common place to blame teachers for what is wrong in the schools. My oldest daughter is a teacher of special education. She is in a small town and she also has to do all the paper work and watches over the kids for field trips and on an everyday basis. She also does bus duty everyday morning and afternoons. She also teaches English as a second language at the local community education.

She has gotten her Masters’ Degree while working and has three children of her own. They are my three oldest grandchildren. I am proud of her but I know is stories of “a little boy or girl” whose parents just disappear for awhile. The little boy in a wheelchair whose school bus didn’t come for some reason. He was six years old and sat in his chair while it rained on him all…

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Priceless Tears


It’s been a while since I’ve posted much about Chronic Conditions. Although this is the basic theme of my blog, often my writing path veers toward a stop sign of grandchildren, babies, beauty in the world and nature. Inspiration from nightly dreams with photographs to delight my days.

In truth, our minds push portions of what we see and hear from the surface of reality in order to protect us. My own has been doing it for over twenty years. It does that still. There’s a thin dimension hidden slightly below the surface of my smile, cowering in a corner of my beating heart. A sort of twilight zone if you will.

With lined paper and a pen or ten fingers tapping on a keyboard, words meander around Chronic Conditions to discover pure beauty in the world. Joy in a single blade of grass, symphonies tweeted from a flock of birds, or sheer wonder observed in a sky of my favorite aqua blue.

Days or weeks go by without me going there…skipping rocks over what it’s like to live with Chronic Conditions. Memories are pushed down…down…down. Eventually, they rear their ugly heads to snap my own back to yesterday, today or even tomorrow. Sorry to say, Chronic Conditions never go away.

Early this morning, before dawn broke in the dark of day, I woke to tears trickling from the corner of an eye. First the left then the right until both began to flow. I let them fall silently, not wanting to wake my husband before brushing them from the two of my cheeks. Most often, I keep personal emotions bottled up, not wanting to share heartache or despair. Chin-up. Be positive!

Memories…Last week we spent an afternoon with my son and two of our grandchildren. He needed a bit of help and we were all too happy to see them! Lunch in the mall before rides on a wooden train of primary colors in red, yellow and green. Choo-Choo, Choo-Choo! Carousel animals under a striped Big Top of round for us to choose. Which one shall it be? Allie the Elephant, Zee the Zebra, or Joy the Dolphin? “Oh, this one, Grandma! She’s BLUE,” my granddaughter exclaimed with excitement, jumping up and down! I lifted her atop the smooth saddle of a teal dolphin from the sea, buckled her up and away we went. Up and down, down and up, while singing a make-believe song of “High in the Sky.”

Afterward, our generations of three skipped with holding hands to the far end of the building to discover a park of indoors. There, children gathered to play on soft, emerald-green grass in stocking feet. Moms and Dads took turns supervising with grandparents too. We proudly observed kids crawling on oversized turtles with cocoa-colored shells of tic-tac-toe. Brothers and Sisters played hide-n-seek under purple plastic logs. My grandbabies jumped off bridges over fantasy streams painted with rainbow-colored trout or giggled while sliding down their bellies with new-found friends.

Suddenly my son needed something sweet to eat! Under his breath, he whispered “Hurry!” My husband ran to get him cinnamon and sugared pretzel bites with a soda to drink at the closest stand nearby. The kids and I ran and jumped, smiled and laughed. Swallowing his surgary drink quickly, my son munched on sugared pretzel bites, two or three at a time. He checked his sensor attached to his stomach hidden under a T-shirt of white. The number in red appeared to be going up. A few minutes later he did a finger-prick of blood. My husband sat with him fifteen or twenty minutes, making sure the danger zone had passed. Talk and laughter with smiles on faces. This was our normal. No one knew anything different. Many Chronic Conditions are unseen, diabetes included.

Only a few weeks ago at Christmastime all was merry and bright until suddenly my son’s blood sugar dropped like a falling rock to a dangerously low number. Scooping up the kids, my husband and I disappeared into the toy room where we silently played and prayed 911 wouldn’t be needed. Luckily, it was not. Everyone went to bed early that evening as my son was tired from his episode. Chronic Conditions take a toll on the lives of those who live it together with the whole of their families.

This morning when my husband woke to the sounds of sniffles, he begged me to confess my troubles, which I finally did. “It’s okay,” he said, cuddling me just so. “You have a right to your feelings. You’re his mother.” I started bawling like a newborn babe. It felt like a dam had burst there and then as my pillow of down went from damp to wet. So good it was to let the worry and sorrow drain from the whole of my body. I had bottled the “no, don’t go there” for quite some time.

So, if you’re like me, give yourself permission to have feelings and emotions. To show them, honor them and admit they exist. Touch your heart with your mind and be not afraid to awaken your soul. We can’t change the world, but we can change ourselves. And, yes, go ahead and CRY.

Tears are priceless…..

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A Perfect Portrait


The backdrop of last evening’s sky was crystal clear far and wide, the color of navy blue ink often seen dribbling from a broken plastic pen. Twinkling lights sparkled high above like fairy dust sprinkled within a vastness beyond my sleepy head. They glittered and shined below heaven perhaps. Reality became wonders within my imagination. Tiny wishes were made upon a few, hoping that a one or two might come true.

Either way, God painted a perfect portrait aloft tips of trees for all to see, like you and me.

*photo courtesy of Google

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