How bad can it be if I start my daily blog post by quoting The Daily Bitch?
How bad can it be when I’m wishing that someone WOULD come from the future to stop us from widespread destruction, injustice, and greed?
How bad can it be in my other images for today?
How bad can it be when it’s National Hand Roll Day?
Here’s what I find on YouTube when I search for “how bad can it be?”
.
How bad can it be when I have wonderful readers like YOU?
Over my many years of blogging, I’ve created other posts with titles similar to today’s (including this, this, and this).
Today’s post could be titled Day 2957: Packed With Kindness …
… Day 2757: Party Animals …
… Day 2757: Anticipatory Grief …
… Day 2757: Celebrate Everyday Moments …
… Day 2757: Stronger Together …
… Day 2794: You’re probably going to regret a lot of things …
… or Day 2757: No Day But Today.
What do you think the title of this post is?
Of course, all my posts could be titled Day ___: Thanks. So, thanks to our amazing kitty Oscar, party animals, The Daily Bitch Calendar, Stop & Shop, Hallmark Cards, Idina Menzel, Dr. Seuss, Jane Austen, and YOU (no matter what your title is).
One of my best ideas recently has been to spend time watching the Ken Burns PBS series The National Parks: America’s Best Idea.
One of Ken Burns’s best ideas was to use “Sligo Creek” by Al Petteway and Amy White as the theme music for that series about the history of U.S. National Parks.
One of my best ideas has been to visit U.S. National Parks including Acadia, Arches, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Bryce Canyon, Grand Canyon, Great Smoky Mountains, Rocky Mountain, Yellowstone, Yosemite, and Zion.
When I couldn’t sleep recently and couldn’t figure out why, I shared this best idea by Dr. Seuss with my husband, Michael:
“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is better than your dreams.”
Do you see any best ideas in these recent photos?
A best idea is to drink herbal tea before bed. Also, veggie burgers are another best idea.
Another best idea is for my son Aaron (seen in this photo discussing best ideas with his mother) …
… to get tested for COVID-19 before he joins us at home on Wednesday. That photo also illustrates some best ideas of social distancing.
Please share any best ideas in the comments section below.
My best idea about ending my blog posts is to express gratitude to everyone, including YOU.
Yesterday, as I was looking for
I encountered the word “good” (and other good words) several times. Can you find the goods in the good amount of photos that I took yesterday?
Did you spot the goods?
Good people who have been reading this blog for a good many years might have recognized our good neighbor Karen and her good dog, Faxy, among all the other good images.
Also, I took two good shots of this good mural …
… during a good walk through the good Neponset River Reservation because my good son and good boyfriend were trying to guess what was on the missing panel (in the upper left corner next to the good bee). What would be your good guess?
What would be a good song to include in this post?
Gratitude is always good, so thanks to all who helped me create today’s good enough blog post and — of course! — to YOU, my good readers.
Sometimes, when I’m trying to make sense of what’s happening with my country, I attribute it to growing pains.
Here’s a definition of growing pains:
grow·ing pains
/ˈɡrōiNG ˌpānz/
noun
neuralgic pains which occur in the limbs of some young children.
the difficulties experienced in the early stages of an enterprise.
“the growing pains of a young republic”
Earlier this week, Vivian (who continues to grow since co-facilitating Coping and Healing groups with me over a year ago), sent me this in a text message:
Vivian (who is never a pain) also sent me this:
Obviously, Frances Cannon has undergone some growing pains and we can all benefit from those.
Yesterday, after a day filled with some painful growth, I left a voicemail message for a lovely co-worker — who is experiencing some growing pains at work — suggesting that she take a break from her pain and anxiety about potentially doing the wrong thing, by welcoming it. While that may seem painfully counter-intuitive, that advice comes from my own experience. In the 1990s, when I was experiencing growing pains and almost debilitating anxiety at my first social work internship, one morning I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “Ann! Today you are going to celebrate making mistakes and enjoy people getting angry at you.” That self-intervention helped me tolerate the growing pains of becoming a social worker, working within a hospital system, and learning to be a group therapist.
Let’s see if there’s any evidence of growing pains in today’s pictures, shall we?
It’s sometimes a pain for me to decide what music to include in these posts, because there are so many choices! This image …
… reminded me of the Pharrell Williams lyrics “Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof” so let’s do this:
Also, in honor of the Who being named world’s loudest rock band in 1976 …
… let’s do this, from an April 1, 1976 Who Concert in Boston (my hometown, where I’ve experienced lots of growing pains).
I’m looking forward to the comments section, below, growing with your comments.
Gratitude always helps with the pain of growing, so thanks to all who helped me create this “growing pains” post and — of course! — to YOU.
It’s good to be tough
when things get rough
but it’s good to be vulnerable, too.
In every location
I see invitation
to huddle and muddle things through.
After every bad storm
it’s important to mourn
and also find strength in your heart.
So put on your mittens
and play with some kittens
and […it’s tough to come up with a good last line, so could you do your part?]
It’s good to see Tom Petty sing
Thanks for reading and helping my rhymes.
I’ll now express thanks several times.
Yesterday, I was here, there, and everywhere as I attended an illuminating presentation about large groups, hung around with great people and animals, went for walks near my new home, went food shopping with my boyfriend Michael, and watched the Emmys.
Here are photos I snapped there and everywhere.
Hey there! You’re awesome for being here, when you could be everywhere.
If you’ve been here before, you know I like to include music from everywhere. There’s this, from YouTube:
When I go here, there, and everywhere, I focus on gratitude. Thanks to all who help me create these posts and here’s special thanks to you, there and everywhere.
Yesterday, I bid a fond farewell to my beloved Mazda3, which I am donating to Make-a-Wish, a non-profit foundation granting wishes to children with life-threatening illnesses. Long may my Mazda and Make-a-Wish run.
That’s Mark, one of the many trusted and trusty mechanics from P & M Service Center. Long may he and his business run! Mark eased the pain of my goodbye yesterday by running by me several amusing and amazing stories of other people having trouble letting go and saying goodbye to their cars. For example, he told me about a relative who had decided to donate a car to a charity and then at the last minute said to Mark, “I love this car! I can’t let it go! I want to keep this car and donate my new car — which I hate — instead!” Mark said to her, “Sorry, that’s not going to happen.”
I told Mark yesterday how I planned to run this Neil Young song in today’s blog.
Long may Wikipedia run, which tells us that “Long May You Run” was
an elegy for Neil Young’s first car (which he nicknamed “Mort”), a 1948 Buick Roadmaster hearse that died in 1965 when its transmission blew in Blind River, Ontario.
Long may all those I love — mechanical, human, feline, etc. — run.
Long may my iPhone run, so I can take more photos like these:
Long may inspiration run for me and anybody else who needs it, here and now.
Long may you — all my wonderful readers — run!
(This post is dedicated to my good friend, Newell.)
Like most people my age (I assume), I resist some new things.
Like most people (I assume), I resist some new things.
Resistance to new things is pretty common, isn’t it? I mean, it would make sense, that we would resist something unknown.
Change engenders both hope and fear. How could it not?
I’m not sure whether I’m any more resistant to new things now, than I was when I was younger.
I can’t remember!
That’s not exactly correct. I can remember a lot of things. I’m just not sure how to interpret all that data, regarding this particular question: Am I more resistant to change — now that I’m older — than I was before?
My guess, right now, is that I’m more resistant to change if I have some fears about the changes.
And the more secure I am in my competence and skills in adapting to change, the less fear I will have, and the less I will resist a change.
And, actually, dear reader, I’ve been thinking lately that the trend, for me, is to become MORE secure as I get older.
I confess: I like getting older. Whenever somebody asks me, what age would you like to be? I always answer, “This one.” I never name an earlier one.
This makes me feel weird, to tell you the truth. Because I hear so much noise, out there, regarding fear of aging. And I understand it. I do! Because the more we age, the closer to (the big D) we are.
(I didn’t want to freak people out, by using the D-word.)
But, for some reason, aging doesn’t make me feel closer to death, for the most part. (Ooops! I used the d-word.)
Actually, I know the reason. It’s because I was born with a heart “defect”, and I got that message loud and clear from people around me: You probably won’t live very long.
And about two years ago (when I was 58 years old), a doctor finally said to me, “You know what, Ann? I think you’re going to live as long as anybody else.”
So this unusual life of mine has given me several gifts (I assume):
Just so you don’t think my mind is filled with rainbows and unicorns, I will say this: I’m still afraid of death (although I’m working on that). And there are down sides to being as much in the moment as I am. (I have trouble planning ahead, for one.)
However, I do see My Unusual Life as bringing many more gifts than drawbacks.
Now, some of you, at this point, may be thinking:
What the hell is the deal with the title of this post? What does THIS have to do with Tweeting?
Good questions, astute readers!
Well, my intent when I started writing this was to discuss how I have resisted getting on Twitter, and to wonder whether this reflected (1) resistance to change, in general and (2) resistance to a (relatively) new-fangled technology, from me, an older person.
But, as Dr. Seuss said ….
Thanks for reading, everybody.
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 