Perfect Endings

 Meditate

Find your Center

With a birthday on December 26, as a child I was accustomed to being forgotten, but thanks to Facebook, dozens of retired friends, plus family members, I now get to celebrate this day in style.
Being a Capricorn (Dec. 22 -- January 19), however, can cause issues with laughter and silliness. For instance on the same page as the newspaper cartoons that light up my day is positioned the "Horoscope" which reads:


You'll require patience and common sense when dealing with money, friends, and relatives. Have faith in yourself. Pay attention to what you do, how you look, and what you want to achieve.


This is the holiday season filled with expenses, family, and friends. It is easy to run out of money, and patience. What do these palm readers think we are, miracle workers?

I do pay attention to how I look and that's what scares me. I read years ago and believed that it was important to live life fully everyday and go out 'all worn out.' When I look in the mirror before and after makeup, I realize that I am beginning to look like that 'old woman all worn out.' As for paying attention to what i do, I do look very carefully for big dogs coming my way. The Witness--Murphy Doodle. What I want to achieve is easy to say but difficult to finish--I want to keep writing the History of the Miami,Ok Golf and Country club. Did I ever pick a puzzle to complete with this goal!


I foresee, several options to this frustration of not being able to accomplish all that the world demands of us:

One, do not read the horoscope, but it is on the funny page of the newspaper and I can't resist reading what might be really funny.

Two, google a better horoscope for that day.

Happy Birthday for Monday, Dec. 26, 2022:

Although you are focused and determined, you are also playful and mischievous. You have a large personality, and others often look to you for strength and reassurance. This year you are reaping the rewards of past efforts. You will get a promotion, an award, or some special acknowledgement. The Denver Post

This makes me smile and feel good, and isn't this what the world needs now, besides love sweet love.

Three, treat a horoscope like Jack taught me to read fortune cookies in 1983. End the line with the following preposition--"In bed."

Fortune cookie reads: NEVER DO ANYTHING HALFWAY

Now, read this aloud for special effects with the new prepositional phrase.

NEVER DO ANYTHING HALFWAY IN BED. 

Fortune cookie reads: YOUR EFFORTS HAVE NOT GONE UNNOTICED


Now, read aloud for special effects of your choice.

YOUR EFFORTS HAVE NOT GONE UNNOTICED...IN....ON....AROUND..

This is why they call these phrases pre-positional.....
Well, not really and I'm sure my grammar teachers in heaven are either laughing out loud or scolding me. That is not how I was taught. I learned prepositions by memorizing the most popular 60. I can still repeat: aboard, about, above, etc. etc. etc. until my memory gives out.


There is a Fourth option, use a colorful prepositional phrase to finish a horoscope. For instance:


Simplicity, moderation, and a keen sense of when it's time to make a change will help you dictate what comes next....in bed; on the road; after dinner...


Concessions will be necessary but worthwhile if it gives you the freedom to live and do things your way...by the waters edge; in your dreams; after skydiving...


Hopefully, I can remain focused and determined this year but always with a little bit of humor in my heart and in my mind. Think of all of the ways you can create your own Perfect Endings to this year, to this day, to a good life...



**Keep in touch by reading this blog in "web version" online where you can post a reply on the comment section, or reply to the email version.

Merry Christmas from Our Home to Your Home

 

We've had our share 

of bumps and bruises

twists and turns

this year.

Yet, overall our year

has been JOYOUS and

MERRY.

May your New Year be filled

 with Joy and Kindness. 

My winter tree
 in front of me
takes me back
 to our children's
playhood, when
Santa arrived
filled with 
surprises. 

Oh, No

 Dear Readers, 

Please forgive my mistake in my last post, or at least laugh along with me.

I often write and dally with my mind until the real story develops, then I hit the fabulous delete button.  It is a treasure for writers, no more pencil erasers worn out or papers trashed.

Last night I forgot to it delete on the bottom portion, so you may have seen the earlier versions of thinking and writing. Now you know the rest of the story.

The Biggest Mistake We Make in Life

Is Thinking We Have Time....

Food for Thought or Not

"How we spend our days is how we spend our lives."

 Annie Dillard 

Lately, since I fell October 24, I've been thinking, reading, sleeping, and looking at life from a couch or chair. When I think of thinking I'm most often reminded of the cliché  "food for thought." Then I laugh. Something inside of me examines this line differently than my school teachers. If I eat then it is often followed by sleep, so why would anyone eat food in order to think? However, when I play golf I find myself eating snacks for energy, so why not say "food for energy"? The adult version is to ponder an idea totally but I like to look at things aslant to keep my mind active and laughing about word choices. 

Thinking about other people's thoughts intrigues me. When I think with my emotions I find myself talking to God about the war in Ukraine, the women in Iran, and will this younger generation build bomb shelters like my father did in 1961. From there I ask "why" people are so selfish, so mean spirited, and then the voice in my head yells, "Stop." 

I like her voice, she is the strong woman in me. She knows that there are millions of loving caring people, who everyday step into help others. My neighbors recently cooked a church meal for 125 people. We know that most young people today set goals, help others, and are intelligent well-rounded individuals, who do not make the headlines.  

Currently, making me think differently are the sprakkar women who live south of the Arctic Circle in Iceland. The wife of the President of the country, Eliza Reid, made headlines a few years ago when she wrote an article claiming that as the wife of the President of Iceland she was not her husband's handbag. She maintains her own identity as an outstanding woman.

While rereading The Little Prince I collected the thought about the value of the lamplighter whose planet was turning faster day by day, so that now he had no time for rest. (So many interpretations of this line.) His planet made a complete turn every minute and he had to light a lamp and put it out every minute.  He had no time for rest and yet what he loved most was to sleep. As there was no solution the little prince deduced that the lamplighter was unlucky. "That man would be scorned by all the others; by the king, by the conceited man, by the tippler, by the business man. Nevertheless he is the only one of them who is thinking of something else besides himself." Other readers saw the lamplighter as focused only on his work and not someone who could be a friend. Isn't it fascinating to read or listen to other perspectives on a person, place or event without making a judgement? 

 

What I perceive about The Little Prince does not begin to touch the language nor experiences of other writers who expound on the meaning of this 96 paged book written eighty plus years ago. I thought perhaps he was lonely, yet curious about life.

Not an allegory of war, rather, a fable of it, in which the central emotions of conflict—isolation, fear, and uncertainty—are alleviated only by intimate speech and love. But the “Petit Prince” is a war story in a very literal sense, too—everything about its making has to do not just with the onset of war but with the “strange defeat” of France, with the experience of Vichy and the Occupation. Saint-Exupéry’s sense of shame and confusion at the devastation led him to make a fable of abstract ideas set against specific loves. By Adam Gopnik The Little Prince--a War Fable

The Little Prince is an honest and beautiful story about loneliness, friendship, sadness, and love. The prince is a small boy from a tiny planet (an asteroid to be precise), who travels the universe, planet-to-planet, seeking wisdom. On his journey, he discovers the unpredictable nature of adults. The Little Prince-a Children's book

The Little Prince teaches that the responsibility demanded by relationships with others leads to a greater understanding and appreciation of one's responsibilities to the world in general. The story of the prince and his rose is a parable (a story that teaches a lesson) about the nature of real love. The Little Prince

The beauty of the internet allows me that wide open rabbit hole, where my mind ventures about from one planet to the next. 

While I relaxed and allowed my body to heal, I read profusely: all magazines up to date; blogs and online stories I follow, up to date; one book a week or more instead of one book a month, done; quotes copied into my journal for guidance, done. Miles walked, not touched!

Once a week I read Maria Shriver's Sunday Paper.  She begins with her essay "I've Been Thinking...."

This week she wrote: "I love to walk, and I especially love to walk in nature. I love to listen to the sound of birds, and if I am lucky, the water in a nearby creek. I notice the trees, the sky, and the air as I meander about..."

I love to walk and be a part of nature, too, and so I let her words speak for me. (Click on the blue links to read more.)

I love cartoons for their perspective on life and words.

Christmas will be here soon and this year we celebrate our season of love with all of our children and their families. My mind will not be on writing and reading as much as it will be on "Thoughts for food" that I can prepare in advance or easily. Now to focus, but on what? 

Seen Art ?

 I have spent many hours, but never enough time, looking for art in our world. My favorite book to express art is called SEEN ART by Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith. Each time I read it to myself my mind goes on its own path of remembering and finding art in my life. 

The National Wallace Monument was built in Scotland between 1861-1869 to commemorate William Wallace, who defeated the English on September 11, 1297. To the Scots he would become a hero. To his enemies he was an outlaw, a murderer, and a traitor.  The Victorian Gothic style design features crown spire, turrets, and gun loops, and the statue of William Wallace.  

Why is this art? In my own terms because the castle shares a deeper meaning of man and humanity. It tells the story of light and dark through its structure, its origins, in contrast with the beauty of the landscape surrounding it. The statue of William Wallace represents man's struggle against man. 

Seattle offers an outside art museum near the heart of downtown.(Olympic Sculpture Park)  What a treat to sip on hot tea while strolling through a landscape of art. On one of our trips to Seattle we toured  many places filling our eyes with deas, my camera with images, and our stomachs with tasty delights until we simply ran out of daylight.  

Seattle's Space Needle can be seen from so many perspectives. I thought this one was most unique. 

We don't have to travel far to see art. Simply taking a moment to enjoy the leaves changing colors and falling from the sky is moment enough to feel art. 

Jack Chapman, artist, on display at The Resonator 

On an evening Art Walk stroll in downtown Norman, Oklahoma I spied a wall full of art in the Resonator.  I couldn't take my eyes off this collage sculpture. The dice can be found in one of our game drawers, the Japanese fan in my golf bag to use on hot days, the ribbons in a box a decorations, the fake pearls in strings in my art bag from the days of puppetry. The shoe. It's the shoe I don't own. I think it belongs to Cinderella's wicked step-mother. Then again if I owned that shoe would  my mind and hands put these items together to give people a chance to stop, think, imagine, and smile or would I be wicked?

Will Rogers portrait painted by Mike Wimmer, shown in the Will Rogers Museum. 

"A man only learns by two things," Will Rogers said, "One is reading, and the other is association with smarter people." I see the painting as rendering the personality of Will Rogers and the space he filled on our Oklahoma prairie. I often think of Rogers' ability to entertain and communicate with everyman as the real art behind this picture. After all Will Rogers was highly talented, click here to view his skills with the rope: Will Rogers--The Ropin's Fool.

My sister-in-law, Vreni, has shown me over the years how to find art in very day life. Her art walks during COVID captured my imagination and taught me to look deeper into even the smallest of objects. 

Sometimes art is right before your eyes 

There may be a fool born every minute but I'm not one of them. The other day I actually found Art, not where he usually is, but under a tree.

Art, what are you doing under that tree instead of playing down the fairway, where I usually see you? 

Perhaps, Bucchianeri was correct when he said, "Art is in the eye of the beholder, and everyone will have their own interpretation."

The Cat's Meow

The Cat's Meow

by guest writer and cat owner

Joyce Bump Milliser, MHS Wardog Class of 1965

Daylight Savings Time! What does that even mean? Can we scoop up time and put it in a bottle to use whenever we want more of it? Let me know if you find that secret.

The Town Cryer on top of little brother Soxs.

I have a cat! Enough said for some of you. Max (aka The Town Cryer) obviously didn’t receive notice of our little yearly change. He went right on meowing this morning at his usual time…5:30. He didn’t have a clue that my clock NOW said 4:30! I tried to put him off. He ignored my effort. So at 5:55 his time, 4:55 my time, we walked thru our morning routine. My day starts when his day starts. No savings there.

After letting Max out, I find myself sitting in my rocker thinking about time…the phrase how time flies came up. I thought how at age six I couldn’t wait to start school. Then a short twelve years later I couldn’t wait to get out. Then I couldn’t wait to marry and have a family. Now, this very month, Dale and I celebrate fifty-six years together, and my oldest will be fifty-four!! Wow! If I could Turn Back Time what would I do differently? LOTS of things!! But time machines aren’t really available except in Back to the Future So I’ll have to try and make time to do better from here on out. Ok, don’t go there. Make time! Wow!

When I worked, my daily prayer was that my customers would be on time. As a hair stylist and self-employed shop owner that was very important. Otherwise I got pushed into no spare time at the end of the day. That happened often. Ask me sometime “why” I fired three customers in my twenty-two years behind a chair.

Psalms 90:10 says “Our days may come to 70 years, or maybe 80, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.” So…I’m living on borrowed time and YES they have passed by quickly.

Soxs, our gentle quiet cat. 

Ok. If I’ve jump-started your own journey through time I’ll leave you to it. Because my knee has popped the last two days and I can hardly walk I’m staying home from church. I never like that but I look forward to where the Lord will take me today. Our times together are often fun, teachable moments. I can already see His love and protection when I look back on my last 75 years. His timing is always perfect. Let’s use our time wisely today. Bless you!

*I wanted to share Joyce's story because we no longer have cats in our home lives, and consequently no new cat stories to share. I think a new perspective and new storytelling helps to lift our lives, and that's why I asked Joyce to share her Max story.

I, too, love cats and have lived with many over the years, like Frisky. Click on this blue link to read his story Frisky, the Cat with Nine Lives

Murphy Doodle--the Witness

penny is my fence doggie  friend

 my dog friends are so much fun to play and run with in the backyard,  sometimes penny comes over and we play gentle on days when she does not want to play with me and somedays we play chase and roll and bark bark bark

oliver is my brother

when my brother, oliver, comes over or i go visit him, we run, roll, and bite just like when we were puppies, oliver is brown and white and i am black and white, people think we look alike, how can that be ? 

when bebe comes over we run, run, and run, bebe likes to drink a lot of water and play in the water, i do not like to play in the water but letty makes sure that bebe has a big bowl of water to drink and splash in

bebe likes the water better than i do

bebe makes a mess in the water, her gold long hair and even her tail get wet when she sloshes in the bird bath or crawls in the tub, i prefer to run the fence line and bark at squirrels

one warm day before the rains came bebe and i spent the morning running around the yard, letty came out to fill the water bowls and something bad happened to her

she does not remember so i have to help her and tell what happened

after she filled the bird bath with more water for bebe letty turned to walk back in the house and i ran out into the yard to play

bebe ran after letty in leaps, on the third leap she hit letty's left leg and i saw letty fly in the air toward the yard, she landed on her yard side shoulder and head then did not get up and go inside 

i never saw that before except on tv when i watch football, it is called blindsided and i think it really hurts everyone who gets hit like that

i have been blindsided by my doggie friends sometimes and it can make me roll over, i get up and run after my doggie friend, but letty did not get up and chase bebe

one day penny blindsided me 

then i heard letty scream and cry

jack didn't come help because he was not home, i didn't know what to do, bebe kept running around letty and letty kept screaming, i almost howled like i do when the siren rings on some days

when i saw letty crawling to the back door i knew i had to help, i began to get underneath her body so it did not drag on the back porch, she was crying, i heard her say thank you murphy, help me and i did

at last she got on her knees and opened the back door, bebe ran in first and i was so mad i almost ran after her to bite her, but i stayed with letty

inside letty stopped moving and laid down on me and cried cried cried, i whimpered because she was on top of me, then bebe sort of helped when she stood in front of letty and barked, that made her move

at last she reached for her phone and called for help, bebe left with her family, and jack came home

i think if letty could walk on four legs like i do she might not fall so far to the ground

jack looked at letty's hand, her ring finger was crooked, her ring finger leg was crooked and her ring finger ankle was crooked, it did not look like letty's body, i backed away and wanted to cry,

then they were gone

i stayed home and protected the house just like jack told me to, when they came home letty crawled on the couch where i sleep and went to sleep, 

this is me sleeping on my corner of the soft couch, letty would not share a picture of herself, she said my words had to show the picture

many days passed and letty slept on my couch with her legs up on stacks of pillows, she wore blankets around her, it looked strange, her foot is bigger than my head, maybe

no matter what she could not walk very well, and she had to walk with help from a red wheeled cart, or jack, she could not throw my toys, whatever bebe did really hurt letty and now letty cannot play with me,

now she sleeps in bed and i still worry about her

i miss playing with her, but jack is the best, he plays with me, we walk every morning even when he has to put on coats, he throws the frisbee for me, he feeds me, and he puts water down for me

he even feeds letty, i see him stand at the stove where letty used to stand and i can smell food, breakfast is the best time because he gives me left overs,

he even stands at the sink and makes noises like letty did with the dishes, he pushes a machine across the floors that i chase and bark at, but he does not stop, he says he is helping letty feel better

now she can walk very slowly in a big boot, but she does not go outside and play kick the ball

friends come over everyday to play with me and bring her food, i like that part,

i crawl in bed with her at night now just to make sure she is happy and then i get down

she is happy because i hear her laughter and i know she will be better and playing kick ball soon

Dear friends, yes the fall was bad, but the good thing is that I was in great physical shape from strength training, walking, golfing and stretching. If  I had not been so very healthy I might have broken a leg, a wrist, and an ankle. 

 I saw this at Physical Therapy Central before I fell. Now I don't think it is as funny as I once did. 

IN--BETWEEN

Covered in neutral tones of grey walls with shiny dental pics glaring at me from the side of the angular arm, the dentist chair smelled new. Our dentist looked younger than I expected, fresh in bold pink scrubs, hazel brown eyes filled with excitement of her first year as Doctor Z. 

I remained as relaxed as I could be, eyes searching for the old posters on the walls and ceiling of alligators grinning, cartoon characters wagging floss and toothbrushes. My grown children will miss those posters, too.

No signs of older times appeared except in my imagination. I could hear Doc Jackson from the back of my head asking me all about my golf game while all the time in dental assistant, often times his wife, Norma Lou, began organizing the tools on clear tray, steaming hot from the sanitizing waters. The glass windows in the building on North Main and 2nd N.E. were glazed over. No pictures, no colors, but lively one-sided conversation with Doc. At thirteen I would see the dentist many more summers. 

Then I felt the hands on my left cheek, the numbing agent complete followed by the needle that appeared longer than a sewing needle; some things don't change. 

Relax and breathe deeply, go to your happy place....She suggested. I wanted to scream but was afraid to choke.

A few slow deep breathes later, I found myself standing next to the two horses in a pasture not far from home. They come to the barbed fence when I don't have the dog with me, allowing me to rub their noses even without food in my hands to tempt them. The stallion is always the first while the palomino hangs back. This time she gently nudged her head toward me but a sharp pain from the barbed wire shook me. 

The dentist grimaced. I'm sorry she said, "I need to numb your jaw a little more." 

When my eyes closed again and I could breathe easily the fence didn't exist. The palomino knelt and I climbed on her bare back. I could only see prairie and hills ahead, no busy intersections or sirens blaring. She trotted to the lower forty acres out toward the creek that was filled with cool spring water. She dipped her head to drink, slapped the flies with her tail. I giggled until a drool slide down my face and neck. It felt cold against my hot skin. My tongue filled my mouth and made no effort to help me.

"Are you ok?" the dentist asked.

I wanted to tell her to let me run with the horse again across the prairie lands of green and yellow, and leave this chair behind, but I couldn't.

Do you need a break? This will be long procedure and I don't want you feel it. 

My headed nodded up and down and sideways, I had no control. 

The noise, the stinging stopped. My mouth felt the cool water sprayed around. I wanted to smile but couldn't. The trickle of water ran down my throat taking me back to the horse, and she slowly pulled up her head and trotted down the side of the creek bed and off through the blooming yellow wildflowers in motion from the breeze of the butterflies feeding. 

My eyes opened and suddenly I coughed. My mouth my cleared and I could feel the water once again trickling down my throat. Would this never end?

Hang in there, we are almost finished. Then we will prep you for the crown. You've been very calm the last hour....

Part of me laughed and I was reminded of a statue I'd seen in Tulsa of a young girl carrying a basket through a spring garden. She seemed so alive to me, but bronze never moves unless in a dream. Her body stretched skyward like a ballerina. Smiling I could hear her sing and her feet lightly touching the ground but not breaking the flowers. A fairy I thought, a very real and child-sized fairy. Cool breezes circled us as I joined her in the flower dance. My body life-sized but light airy with a bronze colored fairy at my side. The Cardinals peeped in the distant trees, telling others of their view. The Bewick wrens on the branches beside us ventured out to sing for us. 

One bird touched my cheek and I awoke, my mouth empty, dry, then wet, then gurgled clean. I followed their directions awake and methodical. The dental assistant placed a damp cloth on my forehead and assured me all was done and my mouth was healthy. Time to take a breath and sit up slowly. My jaw felt swollen and sore.  

Stepping outside I noticed the birdsong in the tree across the way, a mockingbird.  

Thank you Mr. Hemingway

We will be discussing A MOVEABLE FEAST by Ernest Hemingway for book club, "Readers in the Rough" later in September. It has been since college that I read and understood as only a twenty-year-old could the meaning of THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA, and A CALL TO ARMS. I said good-bye to Hemingway in 1968. 

Tonight I read the introduction to A MOVEABLE FEAST and my mind traveled through a web of stories and words that clutter my everyday movements.

"There was a great deal of material that Hemingway wrote for A MOVEABLE FEAST that he decided to leave out, acting 'by the old rule that how good a book is should be judged by the man who writes it  by the excellence of the material that he eliminates.' " (From the Introduction by Sean Hemingway.)

In my history blog about my hometown country club and home for the formative years of my life that taught me through storytelling and observation how to venture though life. Event after event in the old newspapers I've been reading from 1916--1975 seems important to me, or at least to someone who might read the blog. It is extremely difficult to delete pieces of history that I personally think everyone wants to read. After reading Hemingway's words, I put my book down and came inside to delete more from my 1958 MGCC TIMELINE

This is the article I included and deleted from my 1958 sequence of the Miami Golf and Country club: 

1958 October 12  "The Fickle Public: Public Servants Not Given Chance: by Frances Baker

It has been said that Americans expect perfection from their preachers and politicians. It is true that one slip and often a public figure's name is mud. Mr. Average Citizen can be pretty narrow minded and demanding of his public servants.

He is not my political party, but I can only admire President Eisenhower for standing by Sherman Adams, a friend. It has become customary to denounce a friend if he fails to live up to your expectations. It is human to expect unselfish devotion of the the men we put in public office, but it is a sad commentary on our American way that we are all so quick to grab the first hint of muck-racking minority and wallow it around into a juicy tidbit of a scandal to bring public disgrace perhaps over one mistake in a weak moment. 

Years ago mothers dreamed that their sons might one day be president or at least governor. Our continual, harping criticism of public figures and our willingness to believe the worst about them dishonors our proud democratic American way of life....

Child reading in front of the Miami Public Library

Personal Note: Frances was a well-known writer for Ottawa County and a frequent visitor of the Miami Public Library while I worked there from 1972-74. She was one of the many women I came to respect and regard highly for her standards and skills. I thought it appropriate to share part of this article.

After reading Frances' column on politics, I asked myself, have I lived so long that I'm watching history repeat itself over and over; do we really not learn from history?

Thank you Hemingway. This had no place in the golf history, but apparently it struck a cord with me. I could easily digress into political thoughts, but my heart has other paths to travel. This one led me to my old acquaintance, Frances Baker and a few insights into our lives yesterday and today.

Frances' columns appeared in the Miami News-Record from the late 1950's to 1977. The internet was not an option for her research. The public library was a second home for her. In my quick research of her words I found this tidbit:

  "Wanted--Magazines for research. Will pick up. Frances Baker Boswell--

dial 674-2216."  

 *Miami News Record January 27, 1977.

More than anything, what struck me most about Frances Baker's  "Personally" column in the Miami News Record is that her stories came from the heart. In one column the problem seem to stem with husbands who didn't help their wives in more ways than household chores. 

Frances had her head stuck under the kitchen sink, repairing a leak when her neighbor walked in. Frances finished her task and set about a cup of coffee for the two of them to share. Both women were accomplished (not licensed) plumbers, electricians, roofers, gardeners, wall paper hangers, cooks, fisherwomen who did not understand why their husbands couldn't do those jobs. After the neighbor chatted with Frances about her worries and troubles, Frances responded, "You're kidding. Don't worry about a man like that who isn't worth five minutes of your valuable time. There's other men you know."

Silent for a moment, they both giggled until they hurt. After sharing a personal story of her husband's death, Frances went on to say, "I told my friend that there are limits to everyone's ability to be what those we love expect of us. For life would be dismal indeed if we did not dream of complete understanding with those we love." **

Frances Baker
1911-1079
Quapaw, Ok.

Dear Frances, thank you for your long lost words.  I needed that reminder this
evening. This last week I've wondered how my husband and I, who love each other with full and giving hearts, can be so different and so uncommunicative with each other. Sadly, our lack of communication can hurt each other deeply.  Then I realized that I am dreaming of complete understanding, and that may not happen in this lifetime with my husband nor our children. 

Somehow this evening I stumbled from Hemingway's words to Frances Baker's words; from 1920 in Paris to 1975 in Quapaw, Oklahoma. Now here it is the 2020's in Norman, Oklahoma and at age seventy-four I am still searching for answers and understanding to marriage and children, not so different from Hemingway or Baker. 

As Grandma Baker said, "when a couple gets married they both expect to find a 'flitter tree and a honey pone,' meaning hot cakes and honey all the way." It seldom works that way. Thank you Frances Baker Boswell. 

* *Miami News Record March 2, 1975.

Murphy Doodle's Fun Run

today I galloped across the prairie without a lease, i am still pretending to be a buffalo

waiting on letty to catch up

letty said i could run free without the lease because i new how to old bay, i think old bay is good because i bay on the day when the loud si run blows and letty rubs my ears

i did not run very far today like i do when there are clouds over the sun, i ran to the shade tree until letty caught up, then i ran to the next shade tree and rolled in the cool grass, she gave me hot water to drink but i did not complain, it tasted good,

after three good runs we came to a lot of shade trees and she let me play on my own and smell the animals, she laughed at me and said it looked like i was smelling the flowers,

i wish she could understand what i smell, i think if i use my nose i can tell her when another dog has been here because it smells musky and i could tell her she needs to run away from danger if i smell something fright full

if i smelled danger i would run and she would chase me, then we would both be safe but today i just kept leaping from shade to shade chasing flying critters and bugs, i even catch flies at home and jack always says GOOD MURPHY, 

nose down and sniffing

we sat down and both had a drink of water, she said her water was hot too, we heard a noise, she looked around and pointed at the clouds nearby, she called thunder and we decided to walk back to the car, but along the way i smelled something fusty, that made me so happy that i rolled and rolled in the fusky filthy grass  

letty had walked on to the next shade tree to wait on me, so i kept exploring and rolling the brown grasses, it felt so good until i noticed that letty was not in the shade, oh no no no i barked, she showed up, she was teasing me by hiding

i ran lickety split up to her and around her and the trees like a galloping pony, suddenly she started yelling at me that i smelled RANK, RIPE, REEKING OF A PUTRID ANIMAL, yippee i barked, i smell fresh and like a buffalo,

when she said murphy sit i stopped running and sat in the sun, i was so hot and tired that my tongue was hanging out, she put water in the red bowl away from me in the shade and i walked over there to drink it up, i laid down to drink the water and stretched out on the grass

she just stood there watching me shaking her head back and forth, she even put her hands on her hips and looked mad, i rolled over on my belly

should i come or should i go

after a long time for her to think she said in a mean tone, murphy you walk by me now, we walked together back to the car, i did not have to wear the lease because i was a good dog, on the way back i got to thinking maybe i was not a good dog because he did not rub my belly

at the car i just wanted to jump in and be cool but she made me wait until she found my old towels to put on the seat, i jumped in and the car was cool, 

on the way home she kept asking me what i rolled in, i hung my head because i new she wouldn't understand that it was important for me to roll in dead animals bodies 

when we stopped the car in the garage she opened all of the doors for me, and that was confusing, i picked one and ran to the door but it would not open, i had to go around back and stay

i guess you now how my story ended

it ended in a bath, a long soapy in my eyes and ears bath, but letty is happy now

The Golf Gypsy--KICKS THE OLD WOMAN OUT

Letty and Hayden 2022 Celebration Golf 2022

In the heat of this summer, on a 100 degree day I found something I had lost a decade ago. I noticed it on the first hole at The Trails Golf Course when my drive nearly reached the creek. I couldn’t believe my eyes when we pulled up beside the ball and I had the longest, not the shortest drive of the threesome. Smiling inwardly my voice emitted a slight grunt of accomplishment. On hole #14 my body, usually tired, sweaty, and limp after thirteen holes of golf I realized that I hadn’t lost it. My swing felt young, my step felt light and springy. I hit my second shot onto the green pin high. Walking up to the green with putter in hand I felt younger but the temperature was climbing to 102 and the heat index blazing in RED. What exactly had I found? Where did this distance come from?

The sixteenth hole, a par three over water, over a winding drainage ditch, and between two bunkers filled with sand, a player may find the green at a 130-160 (195 for men) yards away. I had become so weakened with old tight tired muscles and lazy butt syndrome that I often pulled out a club that carried the water and gave me an opportunity for a decent chip shot to the green. Lately, I’ve been bolder and daring, like those decades of being 10—65 years old. At 74 I’ve felt my age and let it shrink me inside and out.

I stepped up and envisioned my tee shot flying to the green. I settled into my ready golf position, slowly swinging the club back, and allowing my hips to turn back right, with hips and legs working together then pulled the arms and club downward to contact, and through to the target, and on upwards until I completed a full swing.  My eyes briefly saw the ball land on the green. Instantly, I jerked back to my ready golf position and wiggled and jiggled over the ball, relaxing. My feet danced. I knew what I had lost had been found.

My legs and hips were stronger. My core was tighter. I felt muscles pulling the club downward and muscles pushing it forward and my feet vibrated with energy at contact. I nearly danced a jig on that tee box realizing that I had SHUT THE DOOR AND KEPT THE OLD WOMAN OUT, at last. The fact that my tee shot was on the green in regulation added to my delight.

Having played golf most of my life, I have spent many hours since 2008 in and out of physical therapy, all of which have kept me walking and playing golf. The last few years I could see and feel that I was not progressing nor getting stronger. I vowed to remain active not matter what.

Last fall I quit playing golf. I hurt, too much and the pain caused stress that my body could no longer handle and remain healthy. I continued to walk and stretch regularly but noticed that I could not strengthen nor relax my muscles, the old woman was taking control.

Then I learned about “pelvic floor exercises."  I had these issues and a few more, with which many of us over 70 are facing.

Symptoms Treatable by Pelvic Health Physical Therapy

• Difficulty with normal activities such as, sitting, rising from a chair, standing or walking 
• Difficulty with recreational activities 
• Pain in the groin, buttock, low back, hip, sacroiliac or abdominals 

P T Central in Norman, Ok

Step up strengthening, helps lift the foot off the ground. 

Psoas stretch, helps to life the legs for steps and loosening hips for turning. 

In mid-May I began weekly appointments with a PT Doctor who specialized in pelvic floor issues. By July the gentle work she performed on me loosened my tight hamstrings. We then began to work on the hips, lower back, and the connecting muscles, tendons, ligaments, and surrounding tissues.

*I highly recommend needling to loosen our tight muscles.

I can jump, not high, but I can get off the floor. I didn’t realize as I grew older that one day I would not be able to play hop-scotch, jump rope or that my muscles would be so tight that I lost all flexibility to be physically playful. In two and half months of 3-5 workouts weekly I’ve regained what I lost. I have two sets of workouts at home: Odd days and Even days. I use stretching, 2-5 pound weights, and stretch bands. Stretch bands and home health workout.

Like the old commercial, Relief is Just a Swallow Away 1958 or in my case “relief is just a knotted muscle away.”  (If nothing else laughter is the best medicine and these old videos will cause hysterics.)

My youthful exercise guru, Denise Austin, now 65 years old still exercises regularly but not like she did in her 40’s and 50’s. She writes, “I’ve always said there are three important elements of fitness, and I do them every week: cardio, strength training, and flexibility: cardio I walk, no more high-energy aerobics; strength training involves light weights and resistance bands; I maintain my flexibility by doing some form of stretching every day.”

If physical therapy is not an option then at least consider using a tennis ball to roll away those knots in the hips, buttocks, lower back, and leg muscles. Place the ball on the tight spot on your leg, hip, or buttocks area. Back into or lean into a wall keeping the ball between you and the wall. Doing squats or slide movements, roll the ball up and down or around stopping each time you come to knot or painful location. Stop rolling, lean into the knot to release the tension, letting the ball press into the muscle. I only do this for a short period of time once or twice a week, but it does give the muscles release of deep tissue massage.

Above all else: Release the tension and build up strength to KEEP THE OLD WOMAN or MAN OUT.

Tennis Ball Therapy use these ideas on the floor or on the wall, which ever is easier. 

Tennis Ball Therapy