Hmmm, how apropos for the last WordPress prompt. I guess I could have predicted that’s what it would be if I would have thought about it a little.
I’ve had various blogs over the years. The first one was started in 2009. I started it when I was living in Las Vegas. I didn’t know anything about blogs back then. I still really don’t, but that’s beside the point. At least I’ve learned a few things about them. That first blog is lost in the internet ether somewhere. I couldn’t find it if I wanted to. That was 2 computers, 4 laptops, 2 Kindles, 3 phones, and one iPad ago. Not to mention countless emails.
When I was in the 9th grade, I broke my arm at the skating rink. It was a Church thing that I was pretty much forced to go to so that I could meet new kids. My dad had been stationed overseas, so my mom moved back home to be close to her parents while my dad was away. For some reason we couldn’t go.
So, I went to the stupid thing. I had never skated in my life. Within 10 minutes I was on the floor with a broken right wrist. My uncle Jim, who was a senior at the time, drove me to the hospital. They set my wrist and put a cast on it.
Even those those photos aren’t necessarily Archaic, they are old. Two photos from me in the 50s. 1959, actually.
They are iphone pics of actually photos, so the quality isn’t really there.
I’m not sure where the first one was taken, but the second on was during a visit to my dad’s parents, in rural northern Arkansas. The girl on the tricycle is my cousin Debbie, who is only slightly older than me, and the other is my Aunt Ruth, my dad’s youngest sister. He was number 5 of 9 kids. Four of them still survive (Ruth is one of them). Continue reading “Archaic”→
I’m Guilty of obsessing over being late…for anything. I imagine every obstacle being in my way to hinder my prompt arrival. I don’t know where it came from. Some childhood trauma that I’ve blocked from my memory, maybe.
Most of the people that I’m surrounded by, or deal with on a daily basis, are the opposite. Always late. And they don’t care. And they’re not the least bit neurotic about it. I’m quite jealous of that. Continue reading “Guilty”→