To be, to have, to think, to move — which of these verbs is the one you feel most connected to? Or is there another verb that characterizes you.
To be doesn’t fit me very well as it confines me. I have been many things — an EMT, a medical lab tech, a soldier, a pharmacy tech, software engineer, and a route sales person. I was never satisfied, really satisfied in any these. There was something crucial missing and I’m still searching.
To have is the opposite of what I am striving for since I find having just complicates life. The more stuff you have, the more to take care of. That takes away from the important things I can do in life. Generally, I make trips to my local thrift store to simplify my life. Less clutter, clear mind.
To think, please, no more thinking. When I spend time thinking, I come up with all sorts of things to worry about. How unpleasant. I am learning to meditate – not think.
To move more when I can get my plantar fasciitis and fibromyalgia under control. Right now, moving is accompanied by a numeric pain level of 1 to 10. I do try to get 10,000 steps in most days because my job involves a lot of walking. But moving in pain is not a thrill. It’s just something I do.
What gets me going is to create. To take an idea from my head and create it in some form of writing, knitting, or quilting is the joy of my life. It is planting a seed and caring for it until it becomes a flower or food for my table. Over-hearing part of a conversation and using it for inspiration for a short story that I can share with others. Knitting a scarf to keep a loved one warm is so satisfying. That is what connects me to the world.
You’ve come into possession of one vial of truth serum. Who would you give it to (with the person’s consent, of course) – and what questions would you ask?
My first impression upon reading the daily prompt today was a person I know who might have a secret about me. But then I hesitated. Do I want to know? Oh yeah, ah no. Maybe. Oh forget it. And I put it out of my mind (so I could spend time with my granddaughter).
The prompt popped in my head on the drive home and I thought about the secrets I hold for others. The secrets I swore to keep. That someone trusted me with. So I wouldn’t consent to taking truth serum.
If I wouldn’t consent to taking the truth serum, I couldn’t ask someone else to. They could be keeping secrets for someone else who would not have a chance to consent.
Photo by Lisa M Photography
When reading for fun, do you usually choose fiction or non-fiction? Do you have an idea why you prefer one over the other?
I read both fiction and non-fiction and usually have several books going at one time. I have a huge list of books to read on Goodreads.com knowing full well that I will not live long enough to read all of them. But I use Goodreads to keep my progress. At the moment, I am half-way finished with Manon Lescaut by Abbe Prevost and Meridian Qigong by Tevia Feng.
Fiction is wonderful to escape into another world and forget my current problems/life. I can tune the world out and enjoy myself. My mother would do all sorts of things to get my attention when I was reading but I was in my own little world. I’m not quite that good in tuning out the world now.
My non-fiction selections are from all disciplines, just whatever I am curious about at the time.
I try to keep up with my reading and technology makes that so easy but I find it a constant struggle to find time. If I don’t read, how can I improve my writing. I have Kindle on my phone so I should be reading when I’m a passenger in the car. Right?
For Blogging101, I discovered the Reader and found lots of blogs to follow, especially genealogy and Blogging101 blogs. I was inspired to share one of my genealogy discoveries.
It wasn’t until I received my father’s death certificate that I knew my grandmother’s maiden name. I only knew she loved me as a grandmother would. I knew nothing else about her. I only saw her once a year when I was young so I never thought to ask her about her mother, father or siblings. Oh, how I wished I did.
With her maiden name, Truglio, I log into Ancestery.com and start searching. I don’t find anything with the first name I know her by so I eliminate the first name from the search and use a date range for her birth in New York. I find an “Antoinetta” instead of “Jeanette” and find her mother and father with the 1905 New York census living in Brooklyn. And then nothing.
Trying different combinations in the search reveals my grandmother and her father living in Ossining, New York in 1910. Her father is remarried and my grandmother’s step-mother is 9 years older than her. There are more children. I continue searching for her mother to discover what happened to her. I have sent off for my grandmother’s birth certificate and her parents marriage certificate. Hopefully I will receive information that will lead me to the rest of story. UPDATE – No records were found.
Front Page News
While I searched the Truglio name, I find two newspaper articles from 1901 written about a shooting in the streets of Brooklyn in broad daylight. My great-grandfather’s brother is shot by his uncle in a jealous rage. Front page news!
Photo by Onasill ~ Bill Badzo
Please don’t ask me to smell the milk to determine if it is any good or any other food for that matter. Of course, you can let one rip quietly and I would not know unless you tell me. I’m not bother by dead skunks, possums, or armadillos. Or garbage. Or a full litter box. Or someone’s bad breath.
Most annoying thing is all the questions. Why can’t you smell? Maybe it’s just a cold. Can you smell this? Or that? Can you still taste food? I just can’t smell. I haven’t been able to smell for several years. I don’t know why. I just woke up one day unable to smell. My physician doesn’t seem too concern either. So I live with it.
I do miss smelling my lavender and mint plants in my garden. I don’t wear any cologne or perfume for fear I will put on too much. I used to hate it when others did that. I got rid of all my scented candles since it just reminds me that I can’t smell. I worry constantly that I smell bad or my house smells bad. But the absolute worst is not smelling food. Food is just food. Ho-hum.
The biggest stress is not smelling smoke. A lamp started smoking right beside me but I was obivious to it. Now I worry about fire all the time. I will be the last to know when the house catches fire.
So cherish your sense of smell because for me it all smells the same. Like a big, fat nothing.
Photo by talkingplant