reversing decisions

In my Journaling class the the assignment is to write about a decision I have made that I would reverse if I could.

This is my story

Reversing a decision that I have made could result in very serious consequences to not only my life but probably the entire world.

You may think that I have over stated my premous and you may be right. In fact the odds are that you are right. But who can say or even know what chain of events happened because of actions they have taken. It is my belief that because of something I did or a decision I made the world is a better place. I have no idea in what way the world is better but I have to believe it is better. So if I selfishly decide to reverse a decision I made in hopes that it will make my life better, I may change the world and make it worse for you. Therefore I opt not to reverse any decisions I have previously made. I make this decision in order to help my fellow writers.

However I reserve all future rights to reverse the decision not to reverse any decisions that I have made.


the good, the bad and the ugly

Seems like I am stealing a title from somewhere so I will be honest, I am.
I stole this title from the movie or rather I am borrowing it from the movie.
They can have it back when I am done.
Also my sequence of the title will not be in that order.
I should call it:
"the bad, the ugly and the good".
It is always better to end on a high note.

the bad....
                I have owned my own business for thirty years. It is a small lettering shop.  We do silk screening, embroidery, tackle twill and chenille.  I have 10 to 15 employees, depending on how busy we are.  I am not getting rich.  In most years we barely make enough to want to stay open.  My wife supplements our income as a hairdresser.  But it is "our" business and we get by.
We have never had an accident in our shop.  No employee had ever been hurt.
This year we got a visit from Cal-OSHA and we just got our notice of a hefty fine for safety violations.
No injuries, no employee complaints but we were fined anyway.

the ugly.....
               Two weeks ago I got a virus in my personal lap top that I used to write with.  It ate my internet card, my sound card and who knows what else. It will not allow me to drag and drop or to copy and save and it will not allow me to load an anti-virus program.  I thought I was protected but somehow it got through.  Since I back up everything on a memory stick  I thought I was OK.  I took the stick to work to download  a story I was working on.  I put the unfinished article on one computer and then took the stick to another computer to down load some pictures I needed.  I guess the virus was on the stick because both hard drives on my business computers totally crashed.  Three computers down the stinking drain, and incidentally all of my writing.

update on virus
I am still not sure if  I can recover all my writing.  I do have a lot in my note books but will probably never go back and re-type it all.

I bayed at the quarter moon last night and that seemed to help.

the good....
               In the mean time, we have puppies, lots and lots of puppies.  Chewy, our gray and white Schnauzer had 4 puppies one week ago and Shy-lo, our black Schnauzer had 8 puppies Thursday morning.  They have all been to the vet and are in good health.  Chewy's  puppies are fat little butter balls but Shy-lo's puppies are small and look like little black moles.  The father of both litters is Lo-Jack, our gray and white Schnauzer.  He is rather perplexed by the whole thing.  He is curious and wants to check them out but Shy-lo and Chewy will not let him get near them.  Since Chewy only had four we gave her two of Shy-lo's so that each mom would nurse six.  It seems to work out quite well and both mothers treat all the puppies as there own.

Shy-lo is my on personal dog or rather I should say that I belong to her.  She follows me where ever I go (except to class).  Wednesday night I was on puppy watch but around 4 A.M. I fell asleep in my recliner with Shy-lo on my lap.  I was sure she would not have the puppies that night because she didn't seem to be in labor.  I woke up at 5 A.M. with shy-lo cleaning herself and a little wet puppy down in the side of the chair.  She had the puppy while setting on my chest.

Don't ever hire me to guard your house.  Thieves could take what they wanted to, Cal-OSHA would fine you, your computers would go wacky and you would end up with a house full of puppies, while I peacefully dozed away,


I write.....I change........I am alive

When you get old the physical changes are not so obvious to other people. No one can see your aches and pains but you feel them. I accept the aches and pains as reminders that I am still alive and still in the game. I am grateful that God has not benched me.

The changes that are occurring in me are mental.  These are also changes that others cannot see. These changes are more than the normal age changes of the mind. They have nothing to do with forgetfulness that I have from time to time because of my age.

My mind changes have to do with my writing.  Writing has forced me to  see things more clearly and to  ask more questions and to listen to what is being said. I have learned that writing requires me to think and look deeper. Writing is different than talking. When your thoughts are published they cannot be denied. When I present something in writing it requires thought and honesty.  When I write I have to write what I know and not what I think.

I have to evaluate what I am going to write. I want  my writing to be as honest as possible. When I look at a scene or a person I think, "how could I write what I am seeing so that a reader would clearly see what I see"?   I now realize that if I want others to read and enjoy what I write it requires a lot of time, thought and effort on my part.

I have learned that as long as God leaves me on the playing field, I need to strive to get better at what I do. I need to work at improving myself, not only as a writer, but also as a person.

I have learned that since I have started writing I have become more sensitive to the world I live in.

I have learned that I am not a man cemented in the "Stones of Age" but a man still mold-able and changing.

I am writing, I am thinking, I am changing, I am alive.


blind sided

The other morning I was blind sided by the morning news.
Hey, my wife yelled as I was taking my shower, there's a way to make money with your blogging.
They are going to tell you how in a minute, hurry up.
Oh no, I groaned to myself.  Now blogging is going to be a job.  Damn, I thought, I just want to write some thoughts.  I do not want it to be  a business.  I knew what was coming.  Join Ad Sense and get paid for advertising.  Advertise your business on your blog and the readers will spend all their money on your product.  I groaned to myself again.  I finished my shower and joined my wife in front of the TV and I was right.  The local news jockey was explaining to her all about ad sense and making money on your blog.
See,  she said,  you can make money with your writing.  I didn't say it out loud but the only money I ever want to make with my writing is by selling it.  I answered that I wanted people to come and read what I say and not be worried about fighting through the ads.

If you read my blog I am sure the ads that you have seen are only the ones forced on me by
I have purposely stayed away from "ad sense".  I know my wife and a lot of other people would say I am not so smart not to want to make money.  Maybe I am a little on the short side when it comes to brains but I want my writing to be enjoyable for me.  I have fun writing and I feel as long as it a hobby I can enjoy it.
Now my wife will want to know when the check is coming.

When I feel a blog is being used only to sell products I quit reading it.  But I now I am in trouble.  I spend a lot of time writing and blogging and my wife is now convinced that I will get rich or rather, "we will get rich" with my blogs.  The world will go nuts about my blog and click and click and click and click on the ads and at a penny per click we will be rich.  No amount of hemming and hawing will dissuade her.

 So in order to keep peace in the household I an going to to join ad sense but not on this blog or any of the other blogs I write.  I have created a new blog devoted to animals.  Actually it will be mainly devoted to dogs but all animals will be included.  If any money is generated I will donated one half to animal shelters.
I will link to this blog on each of my other blog posts.

I am hoping with this plan I can solve two problems with one blog.
                                                                                                                                                                                  Love Dem Puppies

This is the famous "Kentucky Fried Chicken" dog.  Obviously bread and raised to protect the colonels private coop



Richard awoke with a start.  He wiped the drool off of his short beard and rubbed his eyes.  His glasses had fallen on the floor and the room was a blur.  He had sat down to cool off with a cold beer after mowing the front lawn. He fell asleep before he drank half the beer.   He had dreamt something  weird  and it had left him in a cold sweat.  He sat there in a daze trying to remember the dream but it wouldn't come back.  He took a sip of the beer but it was warm.
The dream bothered him.  He felt nervous and jittery like there was something wrong but he couldn't figure it out.  His body felt strange.  He seemed to have lost control of it.  He couldn't move.

The room seemed strange.  He knew it was his and part of the house he owned.  Maybe he felt strange because he rarely spent time there.  There were too many painful memories.   The furniture, pictures, decorations and books were just as his wife left them.  He hadn't changed a thing but everything seemed different and the room was as if it was in another world.  He wondered if he had fallen asleep in someone else house.
The chair had always been comfortable and now it seemed lumpy.  The room had always been bright and cheerful but now it was cold and damp.  He was sure someone had moved the paintings but he couldn't remember where they belonged. He wanted to get up and leave but his body wouldn't move.  He struggled to get up but he had lost all control over his body.

His eyes focused on a picture of his children and suddenly it was important that he touch the picture.  Somehow he willed his body to move towards the picture.  He felt as if he were in a trance and that he wasn't walking but gliding across the room.  His hands grasped the picture and pulled it to his chest.  He held it tight like it was alive and not just an object.  To him it was alive, it was his children, it was his life, it wasJoe, Mary and Kaye when they were ten, eight and six.
The picture came alive.  He felt the warmth of their bodies.  He could hear them laugh and giggle and hear their voices saying "we love you daddy".  He felt better.  He felt warm again.  As long as he held the picture he knew he was alright.

The pictures brought back memories of them as they grew up and he felt a tremendous desire to be with them.  He wanted to touch them, hug them. hear them laugh and talk.  He needed them to need him as much as he needed them.  Vivid memories of the last time they were together came to him.  They had arranged a party for his 50th wedding anniversary.  They had invited all the old friends and all of the relatives that could attend.  It did not matter that his wife, their mother had been dead for ten years.  It was a wonderful gift and one that he had not expected.  Now they were gone.  He missed them and he missed his wife,  He was so alone and the house was so cold. He looked at a bigger picture in the room.  It was his wife.  He thought back to when they were first married and he remembered her as his bride.  He remembered their courtship. his proposal, their wedding and their honeymoon.  His mind did not dwell on the physical union of their first night together.  His mind could only see her bright blue eyes and her radiant red lips.  Her eyes always had a sparkle and her red lips always formed a smile.  His mind longed to see those eyes  and that beautiful smile again.  He remember that her eyes sparkled and her lips smiled even as she was dying of cancer.  Why, he wondered, had God taken her?  Why had god taken his children?  Why had he been left all alone?

He wanted to see them again but they were all gone.  First his wife had died of cancer and then his children were killed in that horrible plane crash while flying back to their homes in the east.  The plane went down and he was alone.  His body moved itself.  He found himself looking at a shotgun in the closet.  His hands moved as his body had.  He couldn't or ' wouldn't stop them. The picture fell to the floor smashing the glass.  The sound startled him and as he looked down he could see the faces of his children through the broken glass.  He could hear their voices pleading to him to stop.  "No daddy,  we love you and want to see you but not like this.  Please daddy do not pick up the gun". He began to weep.  He did not pick up the gun but instead walked outside into the sunshine.

The sun warmed him and felt the coldness in his soul recede.     He sat down on the steps of his porch and wept.  As his body shuddered a warm tongue licked his face and his dog Judy nuzzled him with her nose.  She had been his only companion since his wife had died.  He hugged her and felt her warm heart beating.  He looked into her brown eyes and said, no old gal, I won't kill myself.  I need to stay around to take care of you.  How about you and I going for a walk.    

About Me

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So Cal, United States
I am an apprentice writer of short stories and I also attempt a little poetry.