Frustrating Friday

I am a bad blogger.

I don’t actually know what it means to have 568 “followers”…the whole concept of anyone following what I write is crazy to me.

But in case any of you have wondered why I disappeared, other than the fact that on top of the pandemic’s effects, I have been in an even harder Lockdown due to the fact that right outside my doors and windows, is AIR that I cannot, should not breathe!!

You would think that would give me even more blogging time, right? I was on such a “fight the pandemic” roll, posting all these wonderful “Spirit Lifters”. That was good for me because I was searching every day for positive reminders of the good in life. And I hoped it was also good for anyone who happened to be reading my Blog.

But then WordPress broke my Blog.

I have no idea where my photos have gone. I stumbled across them accidentally for my 9/11 post but now they are nowhere to be found. And even for that post, I couldn’t do a Featured Photo.

And don’t tell me to get “help”. I have tried that 5 or 6 times now.

WordPress “Happy Folks” (or whatever they’re called) don’t speak Elder-English.

I feel like that person who finally learned to drive a car, but with an automatic transition, and then finds themselves in a stick shift vehicle with no instructions…

Right now as I type there are 7 repeated “commands” on my page here: what the “f” does “start writing or type / to choose a block” even mean?? How would I write as opposed to typing??? What the hell is a “block”? How or why would I choose one?

Huh???

Please don’t feel compelled to send me a bunch of solutions. I’m not asking for help.

I’m just fussing for now.

I will ask when I am ready….but you will have to be over 70 years old to volunteer answers, and you will need to be in (or have retired from) a profession that does not involve computers at all.

If you have had your blog broken also, and fit the above qualifications, we might speak the same language and I might actually trust your answers.

Sorry there are no photos to make this post more interesting…

There. Rant complete.

Comments appreciated!

19 Years ago today…again

 
The Northwest is on fire today, as is California. So more than ever I want to acknowledge our Fire Fighters!
 
 
This is the letter I sent to my local Fire Chief today!
 
 
You all are my Heroes, although today, I think a better word might be “Warriors”.
 
Ever since the morning of September 12th, 2001, I have felt absolutely compelled and inspired to somehow recognize and thank you all for your chosen noble profession, and to express deep sympathy and empathy for the loss of your fallen brothers and sisters on that horrific day back in 2001. 
 
It was a pitiful acknowledgment 19 years ago, but all I could think of to do was to bake you some of my Gramma’s chocolate chip cookies. So, I did, and took them to all my closest stations. And the next year, I was joined by neighbors, and the next, by Mom’s who wanted to teach their children the importance of our local heroes, our fire fighters and EMT’s, and then the next year and the next, etc. 
 
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Over the years, we got up 39 Moms and their kids, 53 dozen cookies, handmade thank you cards and notes, even a mixed CD with 9/11 Hero Music, all delivered 12 or 13 Fire Houses. Eventually we reached most Bellevue houses and some neighboring ones too. 
 
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No surprise, we were greeted with gracious tours for the kids at each house. (I have to insert here, that by about 2009, we had several young single women participating with us, no doubt because the word had gone out there must be some kind of Super-Hunk requirement to work for the Bellevue Fire Department! 😉)
 
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Anyway, this year I can’t bake cookies but more than ever, I want to honor this 9/11 anniversary, and to say thank you so much for what you do. For months and months, tirelessly helping us all during this horrible pandemic, and now, these relentless fires, and their life-changing smoke.
 
I know today, your hearts and thoughts must be with your brothers and sisters who are fighting so hard right now, all over our beautiful Northwest. I know I’m not alone in this but mine are with you too.
 
Love and gratitude to you all,
 
Kathie
 
Thank a First Responder today
 
9-11 Twin Towers

Perspective-photo Challenge 7/25/2020 a fun story in pictures

I’ve written a lot of posts that contained embarrassing self-disclosures, but this one is a stretch, even for me.

First of all, I’m not clear who to credit for this challenge, but since perspective is one of my driving, life-force words, I’ve decided to just write and share photos anyway.

Here’s the story.

I have been photographing a tiny piece of mystery debris on my street for over a year. No idea why. Can’t really justify it except I spotted it, and became intrigued, and over the months, it evolved into a mild obsession.

I have thought at length about why in the world I would become so interested in this scrap of trash, and the only thing I can come up with is my Dad. It’s his fault really. He taught us very early on that boredom was a sin against Nature, and that if we used all of our senses, and just changed our perspectives, we could always find at least one miracle.

“Just look at the ground”, he would say. “It’s covered with magic!”

(I wrote about this in a story, with working title  The “Ruler” and the Torn Screen or One Square foot and posted it on on V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #40 “Things my Father said”)

https://wordpress.com/post/chosenperspectives.com/18412

I guess what grew from that particular Dad-Lesson was a life long habit of looking down at the ground, always in search of treasures! No surprise one of my favorite activities in life is Beach Combing. I have huge collections of rocks, shells and beach glass! I have even been known to collect tiny treasures right off the street, especially if it’s been too long since I’ve had a trip to the ocean.

I’m fairly easy to please.

I have photographed what I am walking on many times…

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Even modern day litter…

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So spotting this one piece of junk on my daily walk was not the surprise. It simply stood out. Unidentifiable, it caught my eye.

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The surprise was that I started looking for it every day. Every single day. I became more and more curious about why it never, ever moved. Its location was on a high-traffic part of the street. With all the cars, bikes and people passing over that very spot every day, it should have been run over…repeatedly.

So I decided to actually start tracking it…on purpose…and taking its picture…

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Uh oh, I had bonded with a fragment of litter.

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Seriously, and now, over a year later, and I’m even writing a Post about it.

But wait , as Paul Harvey used to say, here’s “the rest of the story”

Last week on my regular morning walk, I got to the top of my street, where my Scrap lives…and it was gone! GONE!

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I figured a car tire had finally knocked it off to the side, but after a long, elaborate roadside search (yes, a search) for my missing piece of rubbish, I had to accept it was over. My mystery remnant was truly missing.

 

In a world of uncertainty, a tiny, but predictable piece of my daily life, was gone. Sigh.

Believe me, the symbolism and the underlying explanations for this attachment are not lost on me. Been thinking about it all week. The pandemic. Being locked in my home, except for this daily walk, for 142 days. Reminders of my Dad, and wondering how he would have looked at today’s confusing, emotional, frightening new normal, ETC.!

I tried to find a replacement touchstone, something more permanent, and spotted this whale (or maybe it’s a country in Europe)…

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But when looking through photos for this post I discovered this formation, permanently embedded in the street, had been there all along.

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Anyway, this morning….I’m on my walk, approaching the former location of, you know who, (my reliable and familiar bit of trash), I decide maybe one more look around…

And there, well off the pavement, directly in a beam of early morning sunlight, I see this!

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I was disproportionately happy!!

And YES, of COURSE I brought it home with me, and put it in the cabinet with all the other treasures! It’s just not safe out there for such a vulnerable little guy.

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Yep, I’m glad I’m so easily entertained. Thanks Dad!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘A good photograph is knowing where to stand’