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| 2012-01-02 16:14 |
| Have to Have not |
| Public |
| new |
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It seemed idyllic. Working hard and hours of overtime brought about a lifestyle of plenty. Boy did that feel good. Always having what you wanted without worrying about money. It was good. Credit? Sure. We could pay that bill later. We had it. Nothing to worry about.
And then, the bottom dropped out of the market and the job market released it's dedicated and long term workers to the winds. And life, as I knew it ended. Sure, I still had a job, but gone was the second income. The one that paid for real life. The one that really paid the bills.Now we would have to live on the income that was just generated for the extras. And there would be no more extras.
First to show up was the depression. Why couldn't he just get a job? When would he realize that by walking away, he had closed that door. THen world had changed overnight and that any job should do now. The middle executive was no longer. Too old, too comfortable, too loyal. These were the new buzz words of our life.
Loyalty and complacency with a long term employer destroyed his resume. He was no longer the man with the answers- they wanted a fresh new view and wanted to pay them one third the price of him. Even that didn't work for them because the great giant of industry also fell to the great financial correction of 2008. They shed as many executives as they could. We had many friends who joined the ranks of the unemployed as well. But the great giant,though still in existence, is hobbled beyond recognition and will not rise again. It struggles and gasps for life for no one will shoot it in mercy.
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| 2011-10-11 13:20 |
| Storm |
| Public |
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It was the usual warning. A twinge just started in the bones. Natures calling yet another threatened storm. Rhea looked upwards and noted the orange and black tinted clouds rolling in. Yes, time to batten down the hatches again, the storm was coming in and faster than predicted.
Rhea gathered up the outside furniture and secured them safely in the backyard shed. The trees were flickering in the wind and the leaves were turning up their undersides. The evening light was turning an unexpected green- lime lit, and strange in nature. Stowing the last of her moveables, she threw the latch of the shed and made her way indoors.
The rain began yet again.It seemed that this summer was a never ending march of rainclouds, occasionally interspersed with short fits of sun. The drops came rhythmically. Beginning like the footsteps of tiny children, then ramping up to the sounds of automatic gunfire. Solid, constant, and increasingly noisy.The wind. too, increased it's push. The trees began to swing and sway, each a player in the newest dance. They bent with each push forward and returned to attention until the next assault.
She came away from the windows. Isn't that what she had always been taught? The TV in the corner flashed the local weatherman declaring doom and gloom, but that too was merely a repeat of many previous storms of this year. So many dire predictions now only fell on deaf ears. Peter cried wolf again, and now no one listened. But would this be the one?
She considered her options.The wind howled around the house and the rain continued it's staccato rhythm. Mentally taking note of her current supplies, she wandered about the kitchen pulling electrical cords. The last big storm had sent a surge and it had ruined her old toaster oven. There was enough food and water for a month for one in the kitchen, not counting the supplies in the basement. After that last major snow storm last winter she never had less than a month of food available. Sometimes living in the country was hard, but if you were well supplied, you hardly noticed any bumps in the road.
Grabbing a candy bar from the pantry, she went upstairs to move some of the blankets to the lower floor. She always slept on the first floor when it stormed.With the fireplace near for heat, and the TV in the living room, and the books in the library, she could settle down and wait the storm out in comfort.
Upstairs, she wandered from room to room, closing shutters and drapes to the now rising storm. She gathered her favorite tea cup from the night stand and pulled the blankets from her bed. She was always glad the she had been smart enough to buy the sofa bed downstairs. It would be positively cozy to wait out this storm. A peek outside the closing drape noted the storm was not going to stop quickly. It continued to ramp up and the sky remained ominously green in color, only marred with the quick flashes of lightning and swirling debris kicked up by the wind.
Wandering back downstairs, she dropped the blankets in the living room and took her cup to the kitchen. She put on the kettle and rummaged in the fridge for a real lunch. The candy bar forgotten in her pocket, she made a sandwich and dropped a tea bag into the cup. She poured the water into the cup and returned the pot to the stove. She sat at her small table and ate the lunch she needed.
The TV continued to portray the usual rain stories. Some poor sap was standing in hip deep water at the NJ shore, as was one doing a similar thing off the main drag in a Long Island town. Same story, different storm. Rarely did one even acknowledge these stories now, as they have become redundant. It wasn't worth turning the channel though, because every local station carried the same story. Sometimes, if you were quick, you could catch a glimpse of the other news teams lined up to film the man standing in the hip deep water forecasting the inevitable flooding conditions that were coming.
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| 2011-08-20 13:22 |
| Storm |
| Public |
| home |
 pensive |
| storm |
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It was the usual warning. A twinge just started in the bones. Natures calling yet another threatened storm. Rhea looked upwards and noted the orange and black tinted clouds rolling in. Yes, time to batten down the hatches again, the storm was coming in and faster than predicted.
Rhea gathered up the outside furniture and secured them safely in the backyard shed. The trees were flickering in the wind and the leaves were turning up their undersides. The evening light was turning an unexpected green- lime lit, and strange in nature. Stowing the last of her moveables, she threw the latch of the shed and made her way indoors.
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| 2011-06-26 15:56 |
| Fall from Grace |
| Public |
| pensive |
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What does one do when catching someone in an untruth? Be it minor, or carelessly done, it remains yet an untruth. Given of friendship, it can be easily brushed away like the offending gnat. But when given of a dependent relationship, does it mean much more? Does it portend a weakness in character never clearly glimpsed? Or when it has been glimpsed before, directed to others?
Does one call out the untruth and ponder it's cause? Or let it lie amongst words unspoken? These are the moral dilemmas I face and seek inward counsel on.
Is it the issue I see in myself that so offends me, or is it the crack in the friendship that I fear? I wait, reluctantly. for the future.
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| 2011-05-15 10:19 |
| The return of Mother Nature |
| Public |
 wet |
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And she slammed throughout the valley.Tossing thunderbolts like wheat sheaves to the heavens.Crying copiously ,wailing, and rending into two anything that stood in her way.She was here and she was angry.
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| 2011-02-05 10:43 |
| Autumn Life. |
| Public |
 creative |
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It was a grey day,crammed full of responsibilities and endless daily tasks. Taking a breather from the ho hum of everyday existence seemed like a far away dream. The tenth ice storm was currently enveloping the house and the clatter of the keyboard from the other room pretty much signaled where she could find him for the day. A sweet and painful longing for spring ached in her bones. The desire for the warm sunlight and sweet smelling flowers pierced through her sullen, foggy thoughts . It was not that she hated winter. It was that winter limited travel, and loss of travel further added to the recent handicaps of her life. She was Not aging gracefully. She was succumbing piece by piece to it. Despite constant railings against the unfairness of an early aging, it continues, basically unchecked. Was this the same person, who not nearly five years ago, could hoist and throw fully weighted boxes without thought to sore muscles or handicap?
Ah. I said the word at last. H-A-N-D-I-C-A-P. The word that can mean so many things.
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| 2010-09-05 21:50 |
| Tanka |
| Public |
| cheerful |
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renewal calls me
to challenge my ways and learn
to do with fewer
my soul breathes a little sigh
life snares released to heaven
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| 2010-08-01 14:48 |
| (no subject) |
| Public |
| artistic |
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Mired in morass.She gathers her wings about her and preens. The sticky coating encompassing her body is clearly symbolic. The world has invaded her parish and she is not amused. She longs for the day when one could roam about gathering food without worrying about being caught up in the bustle of humanity.
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| 2009-05-10 06:52 |
| (no subject) |
| Public |
 cold |
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She grew up invisible. The kind of invisible where everything just blends into the wallpaper.Pushed aside by the louder and more needy, she grew into a silent storm. Assaulted by the world, pelted by the maelstrom, she survived. Each day, rising to face the sun, she pulls her tattered body out of bed to do battle once again.
Unknown, she wanders about her life. Random acts of kindness are dispelled throughout the day, taken up greedily by the self privileged and yet they grasp for more. Quiet rage lives within, though the face is controlled and quiescent. Life has not been kind. She ambles aimlessly forward, grasping at roses, but gathering only thorns.
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| 2009-01-27 21:07 |
| The Fallen |
| Public |
 geeky |
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It wasn't about the noise. She found that only a minor irritation. It was the constant whine from the cubicle next door. The whispered "I love you's and I'm sorry's" that simply drove her over the edge. Besides, how could one witness the constant demoralization and not say anything?
How did one silently witness the fall of yet another female under those jack booted treads?
When was the right time to intervene?
Over and over again, she replayed the daily scenes through her head. Today was the day to act. She planned the accident in minute detail. No one would even guess at her involvement. Yes, today would be the day.
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| 2009-01-15 20:09 |
| (no subject) |
| Public |
| mellow |
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It is the ordinary man who rises to the situation. Know him as hero. Look not at the celebrated, but to man in the shadow. This is the man worthy of laud. He will act naturally, without thought of glory.
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| 2009-01-10 14:44 |
| (no subject) |
| Public |
| cheerful |
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How does one start a novel? (No answers please- this is my starting off point)
One writes. It is best to write about stuff you know.
Well...
Nah.
Nobody wants to hear about a Woman with Scleroderma, who works as a Nurse in Neurology,for a medical group that has patients higher on the economic scale level than most of the population.
I'd be afraid I would have to write a satire about entitlement issues.
Thus begins my journal.
This is where I will write. (LJ is for daily occurrences, obstacles, celebrations, and yes- whining)
You have been forewarned.
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| 2009-01-06 21:15 |
| Making The great LJ migration |
| Public |
| optimistic |
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This looks fun.
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