Daily Prompt “Gone” Writing Exercise


Gone are the days of dancing,

Gone are the days of looking to the future,

Gone are the motorcycle rides on the mountain roads in the forest,

Gone are the days of partying till dawn,

Gone are the yearly New Years Eve parties where I laughed till I peed,

Gone is the 9 ft. tournament pool table that many friends found relaxing,

Gone from the house in Hulmeville,

Gone was a wonderful way of life,

Gone are the days of form-fitting clothes,

Gone are the days of a full head of hair,

Gone are the days of having hair any where,

Gone are the days of running any where,

Gone are the days of Pink Floyd,

Gone are the days of being 70.


“Fishing” This is how I like to do it!

The act of pulling something out from something. Fishing for fish, fishing for answers, fishing for the right item in a sale bin, fishing for the mate to one of my mismatched socks. There are more ways to use this word than I can shake a stick at.                                 sam_0375                    sam_0373

The act of catching fish is the one I like best

I’ve been retired for 10 years, I went out when I was 62 and continued to work for about 5 years. Hubby has been retired for 2 years, when he went out he went out all the way. No more work for him.

So we decided to take a little bit of our retirement money and buy us a class three Recreation Vehicle. It isn’t brand new it’s a o4 Fourwinds 5000, but it is clean. We did a few small things to it to make it more like home.

sam_0389  We take it to Sarasota Florida once a year. We go at the end of June through July 4th. People tell us we’re nuts because it’s the hottest time down there. All of the ‘SnowBirds’ have flown north by then, which gives us lotsa space. Sarasota is the biggest and longest time away. We can only afford one far away trip, and that ones takes use a whole day to master. We don’t fish much in Florida, too many alligators for my liking and fishing from the surf is not my thing either. We did take a charter out with many other people. It was a good time but not long enough.


After we recoup from Florida in more ways than one, we like to take a couple  of short trips right in our home state of Pennsylvania. We like to go north towards the Finger Lakes. We usually go after Labor Day because again we have the place pretty much to ourself.

Here is one of the places we like to fish up north in Meadville, Pennsylvania. We fish for whatever takes the bait, mostly Bass. So relaxing to sit on my outdoor chair, have my fishing line in the water and my Kindle Fire with a good book.


The only part of this trip that ticks me off is that Hubby always catches more fish than me. And he never lets me forget it.

“Float” Just A Little Bathroom Humor

dda797b6b78624ac31a79461777bde3dI live in a farmhouse that, when researching, I took the deed back to 1863 and lost it. We have a hole in the ground out the kitchen side of the house, and another hole in the ground on the living room side of the house.

I jokingly tell my family, “the water comes out of the hole in the ground out the kitchen side of the house, and goes through the house and comes out and goes into a hole in the ground on the living room side”. They don’t understand at first, then they say “Okay, we get it you have a well and a cesspool”.

There is a pump in the rock foundation cellar that draws the water out of the hole out the kitchen side, (the well) and holds it in a tank until we need it, (holding tank).

The problem that I’ve had with this system is that if the FLOAT in the toilet gets stuck and we are not aware of it right away, the pump will keep pumping the water out of the well,  into the tank on the toilet then out the living room side of the house into the hole in the ground (the cesspool). Most people have septic tanks, our house came with a cesspool.

When this happens the hole out the living room side of the house fills up completely and waters the a section of the yard. Then I have to call the honey-dippers to come and get all of the water out along with all the other goodies in there. ;-).

How could something as little as the FLOAT in the tank on my toilet cause me so much frustration and embarrassment. Someday when I hit the lottery (hahaha) I plan on getting it fixed properly. Thank the Lord it doesn’t happen often, we are forever putting new guts in the toilet including a new FLOAT!

What If I Became Homeless?

Here on earth worrying about work tomorrow is a real life concern.  If I lose my job tomorrow I will be homeless in about 3 months tops. When a star dies does another one comes to life somewhere else. Is that what would become of me?  My life as I knew it would die like the star and a new way of life would come into existence under a bridge.

Anyone can become homeless it all depends on where they are on the food chain. What’s that old saying, “but for the grace of God there go I”. Would I live long enough to make a place for myself under the bridge or would I die trying. How many times would I be raped before the Lord would take me home and comfort me.

Homelessness has always frightened me. maxresdefault

How would I survive out there under a bridge somewhere? Would the other homeless people living under the bridge welcome me? I think not, at least not all of them. But I would only need one good homeless person who has compassion and wouldn’t judge me for the clothes I’m wearing. After all I would’ve just arrived under the bridge and my clothes and my appearance would be different from those around me. I’m in their environment now.

Would they let me warm myself by the glow of the beautiful fire they maintain for the ‘people under the bridge’?

How would I make my own space, that little spot under the bridge that no one had taken? Would the material things that I was able to take with me when I lost the comfort of the home I’d made for myself in society be enough to get me started.

What would I sleep ‘on’?

How would I rest and not worry about someone taking my stuff? If someone did take  my precious belongings what would I do about it? Would I fight for myself to get them back?Would I make a stand in front of all the people under the bridge? I would have to do something because if I let them take one of my belongings, there is a good chance some of the other homeless persons under the bridge would get the same idea and I would be left with near to nothing.

What would I eat? How would I find food? I would have to be willing to fight for the morsels found in the nearby dumpster. Would I gag at the sight of the contents of the dumpster or would I fill my empty stomach with whatever I could find that wouldn’t make me sick?

Would I learn the way of the homeless, or would I die while sleeping under the bridge? If I did die like the stars in the universe what would happen to my body? Would someone tell the authorities that I died? Or would they just take the rest of my precious belongings and leave me to disappear into the darkness like the star that dies in the universe?

Would the other homeless under the bridge hear my sobs during the night as the stars are dying and being reborn somewhere else in the universe? Probably not because their own tears and hopeless sobs are drowning out those I’m making.

Would I get comfort from the stars in the universe? Would I see one die and reappear somewhere else? Would it really make a difference to me? I think not!

God Bless the Homeless

Abandoned Little Girls Bike!

8512d3661e77fb4f5fa60c5e213735e0Me and Aunt Theresa went to the Kmart store in Williamsport Pa. yesterday. We took the back way into the store because of traffic on Third Street. That’s when I saw a little girls pink bicycle laying on its side in a pile of dead leaves and rubbish.

I can’t seem to get the image out of my mind. The more it pops up in my head the more I want to find out what happened to the little girl who left it there or why she would just drop it there.

It’s a little bicycle, something an eight or nine year old would ride. So I’m thinking why would a child of that age be in the area of the bicycle. My imagination is running amuck!

Sometimes, not all the time, I get sensations from something I see. I’m not getting good sensations from this image.

Here it is a day later and I’m still questioning why, what happened to her and when.

I called the Williamsport Police Department and told them about the bike. I said “I don’t know if we have any missing children in Williamsport”. “It just seems odd that the little girls bike would be where it is”. They said they would look into it.

I probably will never find out what the story is with the little girl’s bike. I just pray it is a mistake that it was left there. Maybe someone stole it from her house and left it there. Okay for now that is what I will think because it’s the easiest for me to be satisfied with.

I returned to Kmart today with Aunt Theresa and I went in the back way even though the traffic was light. Aunt Theresa looked at me and said “you’re going to see if that girl’s bike is still there aren’t you?” “I’m just curious”, I said. The bike was gone and now I wonder if the Williamsport Police took it or what.

Thanks For Reading if you know anything about this please let me know.

Where I Like To Write

I like to write sitting at my desktop but that is not always possible. Right now I’m able to write at my desktop because hubby and his Aunt Theresa are off running errands downtown.

Aunt T has been with us since October 18th. She’s recovering from Pancreatitis and Gall stones. She just turned 88.  So there is a hospital bed about 30 feet from my desktop, the sound on the TV is riveting, the dogs are demanding to go out, it’s almost time to start lunch or dinner for everyone and I’ve got a load of clothes going in the washer. But for right now I can enjoy writing this article without interruptions from second party needs.

493ss_thinkstock_rf_photo_of_senior_woman_using_laptop_in_bedAll of this  means I like to write at my desktop, but I do the bulk of my writing in bed when the day is done using my laptop. Aunt T is snuggled in her bed. She needs nothing but sleep. Hubby is asleep snoring through his nose cannula and not needing anything more for the day. The dogs are snuggled as close to me as they can get without disturbing my laptop and the TV is tuned into FOX News just in case something happens in the world I don’t want to miss.

I’m not As obsessed as I Was!


I’ve resigned myself to the fact I’ve lost my Yahoo identity.  I’m locked out of Facebook I’m assuming it’s due to security. I have no problem with that. They have to keep the accounts of each one of us secure.

It took some doing to get my email changed. First ‘THERE IS NO WAY TO TALK TO A HUMAN BEING AT YAHOO’. Every freaking  phone number associated with Yahoo has been disconnected. “Hey just like my emails”.

I gave up on getting the email address back. I have a Gmail set up for my blogging. But Yahoo and Facebook wouldn’t send me information to Gmail to reset my password or change primary email at Yahoo. They didn’t recognize my gmail. In retrospect I’m kinda glad they wouldn’t. It shows me how high their security wall is. When I can get reunited with family and friends on Facebook that security is going to feel really good.

We figured “Yahoo must still be there because hubby still had his Yahoo account”. He logged out of his account and from that page I could create a new account that both Yahoo and Facebook could  recognize.

I’ve settled down quite a bit. I’m not as obsessed with how to fix what happened. I Had to let it go. Of course I’ll be changing primary emails and passwords for quite some time.

Hey Thanx again for stopping by!