Pray that i toot.

I had someone tell ask me that. Apparently after certain surgeries, the greatest need is to release gas buildup. 

I thought about the request : toot…horns toot, not people. People fart. Okay maybe when we are five year old the word toot is more acceptable. When we get big enough we learn the word fart.   See Fart….Full Acceleration of Released Tension…Toot= Total olfactory outlet task….which one makes more sense?

So leave the tooting to horns and the farting to what is best accomplishes..release of tension.

An old Scottish woman in a nursing home i worked at put it best, ” We’re you be let the wind blow free, for twas the wind that did kill me.



only the lonely

Nothing like Roy Orbison and only the lonely to mellow the mood. 

There goes my baby there goes my heart…..seemingly sappy lyrics but how many hearts have sung that song?  it is a long weekend….emphasis long. I will have to find something to do instead of listening to Roy all weekend.


Light in the fog

Hard times bring out the real you. It is well known that many of the worlds best comedians had lives that were often tragic. Comedy becomes a vehicle for dealing with pain by making others laugh or worse, a cover for the complex emotions that roil under the surface.

Living in the midst of a city recovering from a tragic flood, there are a variety of responses; from despair to heroic cleanup efforts, community bonding and caring.  As i wrench through the despair of this chapter of life, i feel very much like like a recovery story. I have used humor most of my life to cope and now life doesn’t seem like a strategy that works.

I look for signs of hope, sometimes it is the presence of an online friend, whose light indicates they are there. Sometimes it is the simple breeze on a warm summery day. Other times it is the quiet assurance of hope that is born of nothing rationale but then, that sometimes is what faith is.

The muck and mire will go away, the scars will be there, the memories and the hope that something will change.


A most serious loss

This blog was about things you should know and laugh about after 50.  For a few days i thought i had lost my ability to laugh and in truth, my heart is very sad.

The best humor is found in the everyday observances of life, the contradictions and comedies of people and the way they are.

I am not better yet, though I smile inwardly and maybe chuckle occasionally, my heart has not returned to laughter, which the writer of proverbs says is good medicine.

If your heart is sick like mine take time to observe the palette of comedy that is the human race. 

Stay tuned, slowly but surely, my spirit will recover but the loss that triggered it will always be on my mind.

Come laughter, come.




Drop  a pebble in the water and it produces ripples. Drop a rock you get bigger ripples. Living through the ‘flood of the century in Calgary’ made me think of the impact of ripples and waves.

Out of control like we see in Calgary, water is destructive; eating away soil, trees, homes and lives, all awash in the power of the torrent. Yet water in itself is life giving; only witness the run of sales on water when a disaster threatens.

Thinking about my life and its drop into the cosmic ocean of humanity. Does it make a difference and if so what kind of difference?  Is the pebble of my life leaving behind destruction or life?


Some things never change

One thing about growing old is that some things change very little, they might just look a little different.

A psychologist said when you get old the parent becomes the child and the child becomes the parent. Not quite there yet… case you are reading this …but it is coming. I was out with my mom recently in a restaurant and she bought breakfast which is the Parent part..and then she started trying to attract the attention of the waitress for another cup of coffee…first the hey excuse me…I would like a coffee..followed by a grumble…then it became standing up and trying to attract the waitresses attention…I said, : Mom sit down she is coming in a minute…I wonder how many times my mom said that to me as a kid, in a restaurant.

And then there are the kids who aren’t kids anymore but YOUNG adults..which really means, what? They are too old to be called teenagers or just a younger version of adult, which really who defined what it means to be adult or even grown up. They still need you..for short term loans…and getting

And then there is me: the middle..middle 9 minutes..middle of the generational pack..parents and adult children..they call it the sandwich generation.

I have always been a big fan of sandwiches personally. From the old fashion Peanut butter, which is no longer socially acceptable outside the confines of your own home and jam. That is as basic as a sandwich gets. There are far more exotic sandwiches: crab meat, avacado and whatever…BLT…almost anything you can put between bread.

So here I am the middle of the sandwich…just your ordinary PB & J..

Wounded hearts

A season of life can be measured by time or by pain; sometimes both concurrently. It seems no one is immune from pain or the uncertainty of life, at whatever stage.

Whatever a man sows, he reaps. (St.Paul)  Sowing is wild, sometimes indiscriminate and other times, intentional. Reaping, alternatively can bring immense joy or painful regret. Those who posit regret as a wasted emotion maybe true however regret is real. It represents holding the results of your sowing in your hand and measuring them against your values and perspective.

I have learned not to judge or moralize even if this post seems I am doing both. i am 52 now and it seems that learning about life is a life long journey, no one arrives.

So i journey on. Writing is therapy and i sure need therapy. So expect more writing.