The Endless Memories by Diane Ogden

This is one of those days. You know, one of those days where you accidentally watch a movie that brings back undeniable memories you have denied.  Or memories you have stashed in a file marked with a red X...do not ever open for what would be the good of it?  Those ones.  The sort of day when you remember Berdie... the Godmother who never really was one, yet you loved her and tended her dearly when she was placed in a nursing home (dying mill) two blocks from your home!  She cried and you loved and bought her things and visited her daily for months.  She wanted to move closer to her GRAND daughters who rarely visited her in those crying days because it was 35 miles away.  God forbid should they have all lived in Houston or Los Angeles.  She cooked for them, babysat, did craft shows, painted their homes, loved them, made them cookies all the time, and one of them she mostly raised.  Yet she wanted them...and so they moved her closer to them.  I miss her, but I don't go see her because she dissed on me.  Berdie is a gossip and will go to heaven being one.  But I prefer not to be gossiped about.  Or dissed on.  And if I am I say goodbye to those that do...even if that be a God mother who never said a word to me in my life about God.  Who couldn't hug or say thank you.  Why?  Never taught to?  Come on!!  One learns throughout life about those things.  Maybe someone told her I was a less than good person. Humm. ya think?  She fell out of bed at the new place.  Cant feed herself now.  I cried for her tonight and I felt guilty for her inability to be kind to me.  I think that might be my problem. I would like to go see Berdie....but then, what for?  She never knew what a God Mother was...maybe I was supposed to be her God Mother.  I failed and so did she.  Unless I go see her and maybe feed her, a meal or some God stuff.  Dammit Berdie...you made me sad today and I didn't need it.  Or did I?  You are 97 years old and never got it on my account anyway.  Life is like a bank account... deposits and withdrawals.  What is Berdie?  Both!  Maybe its time I made a deposit in Berdies account and mine.
(That would be me on the left walking Berdie last year) 

Dyslexia......by Diane Ogden

Dyslexia, if that is even how you spell it, is a very big word....sort of like Tires.  There must be 100,000 different types of tires out there as well as there are probably hundreds of different tributaries of and off Dyslexia.  I skipped seventy two days of my senior year because of a few of those branch offs of that word/condition.  Label? My challenges were teachers with no knowledge of my tributaries, numbers, sentence structure and retention of American History...Paperwork, especially with numbers on it scrambled like eggs. Cant put scrambled eggs back together but I do try on occasion.  I got fired from a job because I was unable to do the numbers on my deliveries...so I "eyed" them like you eye hanging a picture. It worked for a few years and I did my job pretty well until they "figured" out my "figures" weren't normal. They were close though because dyslexics learn real quick how to make a plan b. It didn't involve money of course. What dyslexic would take a job dealing with money...No way!  Oh and lest I not forgot directional dyslexia.  I go left when it says right!  Sometimes my decisions are affected by the directional dissing tributary....for instance I cant see things as clearly until they've passed.  That is what is meant by "too late!"  Or my favorite saying, "I have eyes on my ass!"  Of course I don't use that saying regularly so as not to appear dyslexically disabled which of course I am not.   I am rather extremely talented using the other side of the brain.  I draw, paint, sculpture, write, and design, all while going in the wrong direction.  I figure one of these days the tributaries will all come together at the mouth of some giant publisher and I will forgive anyone who ever thought I was less than brilliant. But for now, I am a survivor and I like me actually! Sounds like Sally Fields in the old days receiving that award, remember? She said, "You like me, you really like me!"  See, you don't have to be dyslexic or Learning Challenged to "act" dumb.  For lack of a better word at the moment. It does seem as I have grown older I can learn much easier. Maybe the brains of dyslexic humans mature later?? Or  maybe this has been another one of my imaginative dreams. You wouldn't know the truth of it unless you were in my math classes... I might donate my brain to science but that would mean I might die a slow death so its preserved better than a head on crash. Shoot...now what?  I cant wait until its over to see it  more clearly for the right answer.  Just a minute, I will turn around and read it with the other eyes!!

The 3:30 a.m. Dark Monsters......

And not the ones under the bed.  I already put the mattress on the floor for those.  And the ones under the sofa, have been replaced with photo boxes and other such monster killers.  The ones in the closet get the door shut on them before bed and disappear in the light of day.  The ones in the shower with the butcher knife aren't real, I know that.  I got it covered except for the ones outside the windows and the doors.  Since I have no decent dead-bolts, I hate that word, dead.  For something that is supposed to secure life, why is it called DEAD?  That is soooo dumb.  It should be called the living-bolt, or the life-bolt, or monsterkeeperout-bolt, or tough-bolt.  But no, every night I click on the DEAD-bolt.  Makes me feel great, not! So I con-cocked my own extra bolt called a knife-slide.  I slither a long knife in front of the door and under the woodwork.  That takes care of the outside monsters!  Now I will go to bed and dream good dreams... to hell with those monsters anyway.  They will be back, just like they visit everyone in dreams and visions... from under beds, in closets, under sofa's just before they grab your legs never to let go. When they push you off your mattress and you fall two hundred feet to the bottom of that ravine, waking up just before you smash into a millions bloody pieces! Thank God...Safe once again....until the next time that is.  I do have White Light friends called Angels, or Holy Spirits, or maybe my dead relatives and friends, maybe an old boyfriend reincarnated....and so on.  Those two, the black monsters and the white friends come and go depending on me.  What I am thinking.  If I am thinking negative then the black monsters from everywhere....if I am thinking good and wonderful no matter what...then my white Angel friends or dead relatives seem to keep those bad guys at bay!!!  Its up to me... I hate that!! 

Super Glued Eye? by Diane Ogden

OK so you already know from the last blog post that I had eye surgery last week.  And when you have eye surgery you have to use eye drops of prednisone and antibiotics four times a day which I do.  Well if I don't forget which I do on occasion. I am to mark the chart for the first and second drops,  use the marker to put a check mark by each one each time each four hours for four weeks. Nutz, oh yes.  And they must be used five minutes apart at least! What can a person do for five minutes in the bathroom four times a day if you don't need to pee or poo.  OK Urinate or defecate, better?  Clean?  Rearrange the medicine cabinet that many times a month! NOT...Wash the floor, clean the shower, brush teeth, comb hair, la la la de daa....what?  So I put the first drop in and then carry they second ones to the computer desk, kitchen, toaster, cheese cutter, take dog out, whatever? AND then, watch the clock for the five minute time to pass and then dropie doo!  At some point in this process I decided to super glue the head back on my Angel which had broken off which I lost at some point and then recently found .... which I did.   Then I suddenly forgot if I had put the second drops in my eye or not.  I went to pic up the bottle  and drop the drop in the eye when I suddenly noticed I had the wrong bottle..  OH MY GOD I had picked up the bottle of super glue.  Sweet Jesus Lord God Almighty and Mother Mary! Did I cover it all. Nope, Holy Shit, now I covered it all for me anyway.  Can you imagine??  Super gluing your own eye shut and having to probably have another surgery. No way, I caught it... From now on I will stay in the bathroom for five minutes doing whatever I can think of.... just in case. 

Operation "Roy G. Biv" by Diane E. Ogden

A new chance to see Roy G. Biv!  Remember back in school they taught us how to retain the colors of the rainbow?  Red - Orange - Yellow - Green - Blue - Indigo - Violet! = roygbiv.  Well now I can see all those colors very clearly and brilliantly after today.  This is the second eye surgery which happened today...notice the before and after gorgeous photos whee-oo. So proud.  I was still out of it from the wonderful anesthetic cocktail some fellow named Mr. Lee gave me.  I am not sure what I said to him but my stand up routine went into "High" gear because everyone was laughing at something... I can only presume, (notice I didn't say ass-u-me), it was me.  I think I invited Mr. Lee to come home with me!  I am laughing now.  He was a kid, well a 35 year old kid... Am I embarrassed, nope.  I was interested in his powers of good sleep not his other powers thank you.  Sort of like Micheal Jackson took his anesthesiologist home with him.  I am just kidding. Well maybe if I were 35 again I would be more interested in his other powers but for now I am sitting in front of my computer with a patch on one eye trying to see the print. Hoping I will only need some of those cutsie little readers that sit on the bottom of your nose. You know all the different colored ones with rhinestones and shiny silver and gold beaded chains to hold them around your neck for just the right time when they are needed for phone books or small print on menus. 
Now all I need is the mini lift.  You know, the pulling of the jowels back and up.  Just a little.  Then I could see Roy G. Giv and once again recognize myself when I look in a mirror...

The Snow Swiffer by Diane Ogden

I must be fresh out of material to use this one!  It snowed again in Wisconsin and all over this little swiffer duster I dropped outside my car where it laid for two hours.  Like I said, I have no idea why I decided to take its fluffy little picture because its really a no brainer photo and blog post today.  I think I shall delete this and wait for something more interesting for sure.  Really.

Freak Flower! By Diane Ogden

On of my clients gave me this Freaky Amaryllis for Christmas. I was so excited because it was a baby when I rec'd it. ( I hope they don't read my blog.) Actually there are two "Freaks," the other one stayed three inches tall stunted, and this one freaked out to the moon!  I mean come on, its not even pretty.  I recall over the holidays it just kept getting taller and taller and then started to lean so I would prop it everyday in the window, and take it out every nite so it didn't get too cold. Maybe I should have let it get colder so it would stop growing up. During the day I used the cat tree as a stake to keep it from bending. I noticed the bulb a top this towered stem looked a bit ragged. I wondered if the cat decided to do some munching on it seeing it was residing on her tower.  I think so  because when it eventually bloomed the edges of the precious (monster) bloom were ragged and unbecoming. 
I didn't notice my lampshade was crooked until  took this photo so this magnificent "thing" has had some value besides being an annoying chore every day.  The other runt is still a runt, no motion of growing in the least.  I am not a person that can put living plants in the trash, therefore the plants are taking over.  I have several.
One from a University Dumpster someone threw out and it was freezing so I brought it home and propped the leaves up until it figured I wasn't going to let it die so it lived.  Funny looking, but alive!

Then there is the rubber tree and the dracia something that I acquired after an acquaintance had a stroke. No one watered them for a severely long time so into the back of my car they went...the rubber tree had three leaves on it and the dracia palm was over five feet tall with one stupid looking bush at the top which hung over like drunken sailor or air force or army just in case anyone might think me prejudice regarding the armed forces which I am not, merely grabbing and old saying out of the air. Notice it grew a new stalk after a year or so. And two more plants from a Curves that went out of business! Anyway... they now thrive in my apartment where there is no longer room for them.  Believe me there are more plant stories, kid stories, man stories, but you get it.  I should be in the field of caretaker somewhere other than my apartment and should learn to fix 'em, then release them to the world!  Or not!