“Fireside Chat”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Fireside Chat.”

What person whom you don’t know very well in life — it could be a blogger whose writing you enjoy, a friend you just recently made, etc. — would you like to have over for a long chat in which they tell you their life story?


I continue to truly enjoy a wonderful time in the bloggerspher of WordPress. I have encountered various writers, poets, photographers and many other genres of bloggers who inspire my daily. I know of one blogger, writer, and poet who has touched the hearts of many bloggers and she is the Theempatheyqueen.

I would love to engage in a chat with her, to hear her life story and learn what inspires her writings.




“Two Right Feet”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Two Right Feet.”

What are the things you need to do within 30 minutes of waking up to make sure your day gets off on the right foot? What happened the last time you didn’t do one of these things?

I usually wake up between 5-6 am when I look towards the window and see the light of day breaking through the corner of the blinds. I noticed the sound of rain outside the window and I thought of a rainy day filled with reading.

I thought of many other errands I could do, however the sound of the rain was easing me into a trance of reading, so I reached for my iPad on the night stand and I began to read one of the novels on my Kindle application.

An hour has passed and I changed to another book, on the application and soon after a trip to the bathroom, I returned to reading with the blinds still drawn.

I soon hear the sound of thunder and realize I should at least look outside to see how bad the weather was, however, I just continued reading and another couple of hours passed before I lookout the window to see it was still raining and I returned to reading another novel.

It is now eleven o’clock when I realize, it is still raining and I’m almost finished with the novel but, I drift back to sleep. When I awake, it is 1:00 pm, and I’m hungry, so I lay in bed and realized I should have begun my day several hours earlier, with a shower, breakfast and a cup of coffee.

It was the sound rain lulling me into the trance of reading my day away instead of showering, eating breakfast with a cup of coffee, taking me out of my normal habit of getting out of bed within thirty minutes of waking.



“Re-springing Your Step”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Re-springing Your Step.”

Tell us about the last experience you had that left you feeling fresh, energized, and rejuvenated. What was it that had such a positive effect on you?

I recently experience a feeling of energized rejuvenation after a one and a half hour leg workout at my local gym. I worked my gluteus muscles, hamstrings, calves, and quadriceps, on several of the machines.

I finished up my workout with thirty minutes of a cardio run-walking and thirty on the bicycle. I was sweating profusely with a soaked t-shirt and shorts.

So. as I left the gym and walked to my car, I was feeling happier than a Blue-Jay singing on a bright sunny morning. My energy drifted to my feet as I began skipping towards my car, when suddenly I tripped over my own feet. I tumbled to the ground like a sack of russet potatoes falling from a truck to the ground in a mighty thud.

I rolled along the ground, springing to my feet like an African lion, mostly out of embarrassment, as I stood in front of my car. One of the regular patrons of the gym drove past me, asking if I was ok.

I turned towards her and quickly stated, I was practicing a stunt move for an upcoming play in a musical and I felt rejuvenated knowing I nailed the maneuver.

She chuckled, smiled and said. “You had a spring in your step before you began skipping”. I smiled and thought to myself, I did have a spring in my step but, I now had a dent in my ego, knowing I couldn’t skip without tripping over my own feet. She smiled and drove away.

I shook my head in disbelief and sheepishly entered my car thinking, I at least felt rejuvenated.


Please to Meet You

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Pleased to Meet You.”

Write a post in which the protagonists of two different books or movies meet for the first time. How do they react to each other? Do they get along?

With this prompt I think of my two favorite actors Robert De Niro and Al Pacino who both are well into their late nineties living in different areas around Palm Beach Florida during the winter.

One day they’re great grandchildren realized that neither has seen each other for several years and decided to take the two aging actors to meet at an upscale restaurant overlooking the ocean to meet.

The two men are slowly guided into the restaurant surrounded by their numerous grandchildren and seated at a table next to each other. Neither looks at each other as everyone take their seats.

Once settled into their chairs, the grandchildren become quiet when Robert De Niro turns toward Al Pacino and stares for a moment. No one is speaking and even the waiters are standing in silence, when suddenly, De Niro yells aloud, “You talking to me!” from the movie Taxi Driver.

Al Pacino doesn’t move a muscle or even blink, when he slowly turns his head recognizing and acknowledging Robert De Niro seated next to him in reply he yells aloud, “Wo Ah!” from the movie Scent of a woman.

Everyone including waiters and surrounding tables burst into laughter. The laughing became so boisterous that Robert De Niro began a cough fit. As everyone tried to give him some water to clear his throat.

Al Pacino with tears of laughter in his eyes, leans over handing his table napkin to De Niro, in his best Cuban accented voice from the movie “Scar Face,” says “Say hello to my to my little friend”

The table erupts into laughter again and soon they ordered food to settle in for a great afternoon of reminiscing of the past.



“Brain Power”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Brain Power.”

Let’s assume we do, in fact, use only 10% of our brain. If you could unlock the remaining 90%, what would you do with it?


The ability to use the remaining 90%of my brain power, I guess I would be typing this posting with my mind and not using my typing finger or voice. However, I would utilize my thoughts to make dinner and read several books simultaneously.

The purity of conscious thought would be something we all would relish or would we? The ability to read another’s thoughts would end lies, or would we bury our thoughts deep within our psyche to avoid unwanted thoughts?

There are many unanswerable beliefs with such brain power, that we cannot comprehend yet we have not evolved as a species to understand and control.

With every human advancement come many sacrifices and much wisdom, which humanity has yet to fully utilize.

By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.


“Connecting the Dots”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Connect the Dots.”

Open your nearest book to page 82. Take the third full sentence on the page, and work it into a post somehow.

New artist had reinvigorated old ideas and new records labels were springing up to give them a shot.

This sentence comes from the novel by Robert Gordon’s biography of the great Blues Singer, Muddy Waters titled ‘Can’t Be Satisfied”

The up-and-down life of Muddy Waters, who began his life in Mississippi as a farm hand to become a music legend, who literally invented electric blues and created the base template for the rock-and-roll band and its wild lifestyle.

The serendipity of connecting the dots prompt, reveals itself as a sentence connects the history of music, in particular the blues and its connection to Rock & Roll and the Rolling Stones.



“My Audience of One”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Audience of One.”

books are the most patient of teachers

As I begin decelerating from Interstate 70 west bound onto the straight as an arrow asphalt road in the Midwest, I become excited knowing I will soon be surrounded by family and food at my favorite aunts home.

I love the sights of passing row upon row of dark green vegetation ready to be harvested by large combines. My mind floats to a time when my mother lived with my aunt in hospice and the evening of her death.

I recall the evening with vivid details, I returned from town where I accessed the wi-fi for school and my mother was near death. As soon as I entered the room, my mother called my name and stated she was tired.

With my arm around her shoulder, holding her hand. I recited the lords prayer to myself, as my family surrounded her bed all praying as she peacefully passed.

Emotional thoughts of that time swell deep inside as I turn into the driveway and I rushed inside to eat and catch up with the latest of our lives.

After dinner, I take out several blog posting I brought with me to read to my aunt who sits and laughs at a few and becomes emotional with poems I read to her from the blog site the Empathy Queen.

She is pleased with my readings and I ask her why hasn’t she opened her email to check my blog postings. She just simply says I don’t have time for those electronics gizmos, plus I can’t remember my password.

So I help with accessing her email and she singed on and she is a daily reader of WordPress sites, just like my mother would have been.



“Prisoner of Conscience”

The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Bone of Contention.”

 Pick a contentious issue about which you care deeply — it could be the same-sex marriage debate, or just a disagreement you’re having with a friend. Write a post defending the opposite position, and then reflect on what it was like to do that. 

Prisoner of Conscience

Amnesty international protesting outside the Saudi Embassy in Vienna VA against the caning of a writer who had criticized the Saudi religious establishment

I rarely if at all post anything political on my Aspiring Writer site, however a daily prompt has forced the issue.

As an intern I write articles for an online site titled, Tremr.com and when I read the prompt several days ago, I immediately thought of the article I wrote about the issues bloggers in other countries have and who cannot utilize their freedoms of speech as freely as I do in America.

Raif Badawi, is a Saudi Arabian blogger who was imprisoned for starting a liberal online forum to encourage discussion and debate in his country.

So all of my writers, bloggers, and poets with your next posting take a few minutes to appreciate the freedoms we all share while others cannot.

This concludes the once yearly posting outside of my norm.



Celebrating Dr. Martin Luther King.

I have a dream!


Dr. King’s birthday is January 15, however the federal holiday is celebrated today, Monday, January 19, 2015.

Let’s all take a moment to reflect upon the great Civil Rights leader who fought for all Americans rights that transcends the world over.

Let us apply his beliefs, ideas in all racial, religious, cultural and ethnic matters as this day is celebrated by millions around the world.

Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable… Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated people.

Martin Luther King, Jr.




In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Oasis.”

A sanctuary is a place you can escape to, to catch your breath and remember who you are. Write about the place you go to when everything is a bit too much.

Taking A Walk

During the summer after working fourteen hour days, for five days straight, I look forward to time away in my recreational vehicle at my local campground.

My mind and body yearned to achieve a stress free calm and peaceful easy feeling surrounded by the serene peaceful sounds of mother nature.

However, to seek this sanctuary getaway, I would of course take my children with me and over time I learned how to enjoy my time with my family and still find a sanctuary of peace.

I began my day by preparing a hearty breakfast for the children, giving each five dollars to spend at the arcade, check their backpacks to assure they had a second set of clothing and a towel. I walked them to the pool carrying my sanctuary bag of goodies.

My basket was usually loaded with sandwiches, snacks, bottle water, Capri-suns juice drinks, and I carried my chase lounge chair with several books in my backpack.

Once I watched the two enter the pool, I would set up my chase lounge chair in the shade of the tree line facing the pool to watch my children.

However, once I settled in with my baseball cap pulled low on my brow, dark sunglasses on, a book in hand, I usually had at most two hours of uninterrupted sanctuary time to myself.

My sanctuary place always seemed to be an open invitation to other parents who would stroll over from the pool and disturb my peaceful sanctuary with an unnecessary conversation.

I quickly solved the problem with a sign posted at the end of my lounger “Parents Sanctuary No Talkative Parents”.
Once my sanctuary was established, I truly enjoyed the peace and serenity, while being a dutiful parent.



“In Good Faith”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “In Good Faith.”

Describe a memory or encounter in which you considered your faith, religion, spirituality — or lack of — for the first time.


I guess like a lot of people, over the years, I have witnessed my fair share of horrors and miracles, humanity has provided. I was fortunately and uniquely sublime to go with a friend to view the scene where he and his wife drove off the roadway and into the river with their two children under the age of 5 on the back seat.

I was in the Army and stationed in West Germany when I was just a young twenty-one year old and, alcohol consumption coupled with the lack of basic commonsense was at a premium.

However, this situation led me to an insightful understanding and belief in my faith.

I was asleep when my friend called to ask if I would drive him to see something. I was a slightly hung over from drinking with him and his wife just four or five hours earlier, so with groggy reluctance, I drove to his home where he lived with his wife, two kids and mother-law.

As soon as I pulled up to the home he quickly ran to the car, frantically followed by his wife, and they both entered the car yelling at me to leave. They were still hung over, and anxious to get away from her mother who was scolding them for being out until 3:00 am with their two children.

They asked me to drive them to an area along one of the mountain roads leading out-of-town and as I drove we talked about that party and the people who attended.

As I drove five miles out of the German town, along narrow mountain two lane roads. The mountains were on my right and to my left, across the opposite lane of travel was the guard rail, and below the rail for fifty to seventy feet, was a steeply sloped area leading to a level grassy area, next to a small active small river.

Suddenly my friend yelled for me to pull over to the shoulder of the road, as he and his wife both stared at the area of a missing guard rail as I parked the car on the shoulder of the roadway.

They both exited the car, and walked to the missing guard rail. As they walk closer, they fell to their knees crying profusely while holding each other.

As I walked behind them, I saw the missing section of guard rail, however the carnage of debris from dirt torn up by what appeared to be someone who drove a car spinning its tires, destroying the beautiful dark green grass at the bottom of the hill.

I was shocked and surprised the car survived the first impact with the sharply sloped hill after leaving the roadway.

I could see where the driver attempted several times to drive up the steep hill towards the guard rail, and eventually sliding back down the hill. Tracks embedded in the grass indicated the car went into the river traveling against the rivers current.

With my friend and his wife still crying, I could see my they’re car, parked in a picnic area about a hundred yards away from where we stood.

As I pointed to their car, they began to cry aloud with joy.

We returned to my car and I drove them to the picnic area where his wife began to explain, how she left the party at 2:00 am driving their car because my friend was too intoxicated to drive.

With the children asleep on the back seat, my friend asleep in the front passenger seat, she fell asleep at the wheel and she awoke when the car collided with the guard rail.

She explained how she did not touch the car’s steering wheel as it seemed to float in air, and land on the grassy hill and slide to the bottom causing my friend to wake, but the children remained asleep.

She explained how she drove around and attempted to drive towards the roadway up the hill several times, but it was far too steep. She did not know the river was nearby by until she drove into water.

Once the car was in the water, she panicked and revved the engine to drive along the river’s bed, when at times the water crept over the hood of the car and there was water inside on the floor of the car.

She suddenly didn’t know why or how, but she turned the wheel to the right driving out of the river and into the picnic area, where she caught the attention of another driver who was traveling pass. After she exited the car and spoke to the driver, he agreed to give them a ride home.

My friend found the keys in the car, and it started. We drove to a local coffee-house where we sat for several hours in disbelief, contemplating, and realizing how fortunately blessed they were to be alive.

Later in the day, we all attended a late day mass at his mother in-law’s Catholic Church which made her very happy and I prayed for my friends and the blessings that allow them to survive their horrifying event.

Ever since that incredible Sunday morning, my good faith is believing since I’m unaware of my expiration date, I seek to inspire, help, aid, and teach others to be appreciative of the many blessed opportunities and experiences the world has to offer until the day I die.


“I Have Skills”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “I Got Skills.”

If you could choose to be a master (or mistress) of any skill in the world, which skill would you pick?


It has been some time since posting a blog as I have been reading several really good books along with writing and researching for my own novels. So as I read the above prompt, I immediately recognized the use of slang or the improper use of English to describe mastering a skill.

I have English teachers in my past who would eagerly mark my paper with red ink to correct my mistake of using “I got skills.” as a phrase or in a sentence.

So, in response to the prompt, I want to master the skill of the English language as a writer and public speaker.

Since elementary school where I began my journey to master the English language, I have written thousands of letters, book reports, essays, work reports, memorandums, blog post, short stories, and some poetry.

I have taken many English and creative writing classes, as I continue my journey to master the English language as an aspiring writer.



“For Posterity”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “For Posterity.”

Your blog just became a viral sensation. What’s the one post you’d like new readers to see and remember you by? Write that post.


After circumnavigating the earth by sailboat, my blog went viral upon the posting after my hike to the Summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, in Tanzania National Park.

It still resonates with my travel blogging followers as the most inspirational posting of my twenty-five year blogging career.

At 19,336, feet above sea level, I had a Go-Pro camera attached to the top of my helmet for the last few miles as we climbed to the summit. I was fortunate with great weather with a sunny day and very few clouds providing scenic views of Tanzania National Park and surrounding area.

Our ever-present escort on the climb, was several pairs of White-collared Ravens, who stalked our unattended packs, seeking food.

Their ever-present annoyance was matched by their majestic flights soaring high above, providing beautiful aerial sights as they glided on the gusts and thermals winds.

The wind was blowing at a constant twenty-five or thirty miles per hour. However nothing prepared our group of ten hikers, trudging along on our ascent, trying to temper the crescendo of excitement as we viewed the sign at the top of the summit.

It was to the left of the sign, about twenty yards away, we viewed a ravishing, copulating male and female on a yellow blanket they lay on the rocky volcanic ground.

Their frantic pace continued until they recognized our presences and they scrambled to their feet rushing to replace their clothing.

Their faces produced such an embarrassing look, as we all snickered and smile, except for a couple of the women who whistled for some reason. I assume he had nice hair.

Once we all reached the summit, standing next to the sign, we celebrated with, hugs and loving embraces as we took photos.

The embarrassed couple quickly walked past our group and began their decent. After several minutes on the summit, we began our decent to base camp. I was still filled with the excitement of  completing a bucket list item.

I downloaded the video from the Go-Pro and realized it captured the pair copulating, with the stunning vistas of Tanzania National Park in the background.

Nothing sexual inappropriate was visible and their identities were not known. After including the video with my blog posting, I was surprised to discover the posting became a media viral sensation with bloggers referring to the photo as, “The Mount Kilimanjaro, Mountain Lovers Club”.

The photo’s background of broken white clouds, against the, azure blue sky and the sun escaping in streaks against the vistas, surrounded by a base of dark volcanic rocks had made the photo famous.

As the viral media hype continued, I was contacted by the German couple who gave up their anonymity and became a media sensation, appearing on morning television shows around the world.

I continued blogging for many years after, however the viral sensation known as the “The Mount Kilimanjaro, Mountain Lovers Club” established many more copy-cat photos, that continue to circulate the internet and some are hung in art galleries around the world.
The posting was my crowning accomplishment as a blogger.


“Daring Do”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Daring Do.”

Tell us about the time you rescued someone else (person or animal) from a dangerous situation. What happened? How did you prevail?


Many years ago, I took my dog Kassie, a one year old black Labrador Retriever to the lake for a swim in the middle of January and the temperature was around 32 degrees on a cloudy overcast winters day.

She was walking ahead of me off of the leash, when she went into the water from the shoreline and swam out twenty or thirty yards and swam back where she shook off the water.

I carried a large beach towel to dry her off and wrap her in, but she ran towards the newly installed floating dock like a child seeing a new toy.

She ran to the floating dock and took a flying jump into the water, and immediately she began to flail her front paws in a panic attempting to swim.

I was fraught with shock and horror and ran out to the dock, and jump into the lake to save my Kassie. However, just as I landed in the soft cold mud, the water’s depth was just over five feet, and Kassie, miraculously regained her swimming ability.

While I stood in waist deep water, with my white athletic sneakers, in five or six inches of mud, my Kassie, dog paddled away from me while barking at some Canadian geese.

I struggled to move my feet and keep my shoes on as I trudged my way out of the lake towards the shoreline, thinking I have to walk three-tenths of a mile, to my home in the middle of January soaking wet.

As soon as I walked onto the shoreline, Kassie runs towards me to put her leash on and we begin our walk home with the beach towel wrapped around my waist and my soggy muddy shoes.
I never understood why she panicked, however, I guess my Kassie didn’t realize that jumping in the water may have taken her breath away, since it was her first time jumping from the dock into the water.

An hour or so later after a hot shower, starting a fire in the fireplace, and sipping a large cup of coffee, with Kassie laid across my feet, warming them, as she looked up at me with those eyes, I realized we rescued each other.

With me, jumping into the water, to show her the water was not too deep, and she warming my feet, that were still chilly from the lake.


Blogging 101: Introduction

Blogging University 101 Badge

Ok, I have blogged for the past 5 months and I have truly enjoyed and developed blogger friendships from around the world.

The daily prompts inspires my short stories, flash fiction and poetry. I’m taking the class again to sharpen my blogging skills, knowledge as I continue to broaden my base of bloggers contacts from around the world. 

My site began as a retirement lifestyle blog which continues to evolve in this chapter of my life. However, my site will be morphing into a photography and travel blog site as I become the nomadic traveler of locations beginning in the US.

So stay tuned and see what I have to offer.




In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Cliché.”

Clichés become clichés for a reason. Tell us about the last time a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush for you.

quote snow sunset

I’m not a risk taker at anything in life and wisdom has taught me the proper detail planning will assure I have what is necessary to achieve or complete what I need to accomplish.

I have learned and believe in the “Cliché” a bird in hand is worth so much more than seeking, hoping, or taking a chance on more than what I need to accomplish any task or endeavor I seek.

I have met & seen many people chasing dreams and endeavors without a backup plan, all the while not properly planning for the initial task at hand.



“Tight Corner”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Tight Corner.”

Have you ever managed to paint yourself into the proverbial corner because of your words? What did you do while waiting for them “to dry”?


As a young parent of a kindergarten child, I was anxious to volunteer and support his teacher, and the school he attended in any way possible.

My enthusiasm overwhelmed my alligator volunteering mouth, painting me into a corner, as I found myself over extended with volunteer duties, from the school office, to substitute when not enough parents were available and chaperoning children on a school outing.

Several parents in my child’s class would ask me to cover their volunteering duties which I gladly did without hesitation. By the second semester, parents from other kindergarten classrooms were also asking for my assistance and I willingly volunteered.

The word “Assistance” is used to invoke volunteering, however when volunteers ask another volunteer to cover their volunteer duties, more than once, I see an irresponsible volunteer.

By late spring, I was inundated with requests by parents asking me to cover their volunteering positions which they originally signed up for weeks in advance.

In an overwhelming majority of the times, I was the volunteer who managed the signup sheet. Yes, I had that position. I surely painted myself into a “tight corner”, agreeing to volunteer.

I was feeling a little disenchanted with volunteering towards the end of the school year, then one day in April, I was asked to meet with the assistant principal in her office.

Sitting in the assistant principal’s office, it was surreal, as I began to reminisce of my elementary school years in the principal’s office, when, I was the average hyperactive child. LOl!

When the assistant principal entered her office followed by the principal, they began by thanking me for my dedication to volunteer duties and praised me for my involvement.

They both asked that, I not take anymore volunteer duties from parents who originally signed up to volunteer unless it is a true family emergency, and for the parents who are signing up and don’t perform their volunteer duties, I was to pass the information on them.

They both explained how they wanted me to encourage and develop additional parent volunteers.

I was a little surprised with the conference on volunteering, but I took their recommendation and suggestions and began refusing parents requests who wanted me to cover their volunteer duties.

I reported the parents to the principal while encouraging the parent try again and praised them for at least giving me an initial notice.

In late May, after the kindergarten graduation, the school’s principals,administration staff, along with the school superintendent presented me with a volunteer of the year award, which surprised me beyond belief.

I was completely shocked with the award and I was emotionally moved with the presentation, which came with a $50.00 gift certificate to a local restaurant.

Now, on a hot August morning, I sit in my car looking out towards the school district’s administration building, and I suddenly realize it has been twenty-five years since my child began kindergarten and today I begin my last year as the paid volunteer coordinator for the entire school district.

Volunteering pays off



“Be The Change”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Be the Change.”

What change, big or small, would you like your blog to make in the world?


I have various ideas as my blog morphs into a nomadic lifestyle.

A nomadic lifestyle, beckoning my soul to wander the North American continent.

I seek scenic vistas, to photograph, that will inspire my followers to find such beauty for themselves.

One destination and one photograph at a time.



“New Skin”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “New Skin.”

If you could spend the next year as someone radically different from the current “you” — a member of a different species, someone from a different gender or generation, etc. — who would you choose to be?


On how I love these prompts, they have inspired my thoughts for my writings, short stories, and poetry. Well, I digress, so let me see, if I had a year to live as someone or a different species, I would wish to spend the year as a seven-year old American Bald Eagle.

I would weigh around 14 pounds, with a wingspan of 90 inches, flying and hunting in Southwest Florida, fishing the tributaries, small lakes and the Everglades.

I would hunt an area between 1,700 to 10,000 acres, I would glide at an altitude of 10,00o feet, choosing my food items from the buffet below.

I would share my time in the skies, with my mate and as we glide the heavens together enjoying the scenery for miles around with our keen eyesight.

We would share the duties in the nest for our young who live nearby and on occasions we meet after retrieving a meal from the local waters.

In 2007, my species of Eagle was taken off the endangered species list and we have thrived to enjoy the skies around the US.

I am the national symbol a great country and the inspiration of many. I am at the top of the food chain, perched high atop a tree peering out towards the my horizon, my profile is majestic and I plan to live forever.

The first post of 2015, Happy New Year!


“My 2014 year in review”

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

I’m really appreciative of WordPress providing a statistical breakdown of my past 12 months as a WordPress blogger.

I seriously began blogging in August of this year and in September, I participated in WordPress’s University Blogger 101 & 201 programs.

The University blogger experience was beneficial in the discovery of everything blogging. I love developing short stories based on the daily prompts and I truly enjoy reading the daily and weekly blogs of my blogger friends from around the world.

The daily prompts have influenced my short stories, along with inspiring developmental ideas for the novels I plan to write.

I want to thank all of my fellow blogging followers for your support and I look forward to an exciting 2015 of continuous support and exchange of wisdom, knowledge, and blogging fellowship.

My next blogging adventure and discovery will be photography, so all of my followers stay tuned, for great winter photos of Southwest Florida.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 3,300 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 55 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.


“Mystery Box”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mystery Box.”

You wake up one morning to find a beautifully wrapped package next to your bed. Attached to it is a note: “Open me, if you dare.” What’s inside the mystery box? Do you open it?


As I read this prompt, with someone secretly entering my home and placing a beautifully wrapped package next to my bed with a note stating open me if you dare.

I immediately was thinking about who, and most importantly how did anyone enter my locked home?

As I type this, it terrifies me to believe that I would sleep so soundly to allow someone to enter my home to leave a wrapped package next to my bed.

Call me paranoid, but the law enforcement instinct in me will always have me suspicious of anything unusual, especially a package found in my bedroom when I awake in the morning.

However, I did receive my first incredible fathers-day gift one year after ten plus years of fathers day gifts ranging from beautifully painted ceramic clay hands, colorful ties, lighted ties, embroidery ties, golf balls, Bar-B-Cue utensils, a construction paper design of me and daisy chain bracelets.

I have a 5 x 5 x 3 plastic container filled with these unique gifts, I have saved to present at a father’s day celebration, when my children have children of their own. Yes, I see a gran-parents pay back for both of my children.

On this, fathers day, I was presented with a beautifully wrapped gift and father’s day card, wIth my son and daughter standing in front of me, watched as I read the card.

I smiled and hugged them both, then I began ripping the wrapping paper away from the boxed gift.

I was moved to tears as the side of the box revealed the words Olympus digital camera. I thought for a moment they may have put something inside the Olympus box, but as I looked at them both, they were just as excited as I was.

Removing the rest of the packaging revealed a 8 mega pixel digital camera made by Olympus.

My mouth was gaping for several seconds as I was soon moved to tears, so much so that my daughter, with a genuine concern look on her face and tears in her eyes, asked was I alright.

I hugged her tightly grabbing my son and saying I love you both, this is the best fathers day gift I have ever received.

Now that is the way to get a beautifully wrapped packaged gift!



“My Hero”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “My Hero.”

Who’s your hero? Tell us a story about why that person plays such an important role in your life.

The word “Hero” is defined as a person who is admired for great or brave acts and or fine qualities.

When I was growing up in the 70’s, I never looked upon any particular person as my hero. However, as my life moved into becoming an adult, I have been influenced, impressed and able to understand and define the word Hero.

My definition of Hero is a person who holds a high moral standard, honest, extremely knowledgeable, filled with wisdom and most importantly a person who influences others by their actions, whether verbal or non-verbal.

I have been a hero to many people, who recognized my life and the actions I have taken which has inspired, influenced and changed someones thinking about their own way of life.

As I raised my children, I realized, I had earlier lived among two of my greatest heroes, my father and mother and who are my only heroes.

They are both deceased, however, before their deaths, I had the opportunity to learn and understand their lives and what influenced their decisions well before my birth to become my heroes.

My parents are the base model for me defining the word “Hero.”

I have met many people during my life who never earned the title “Hero”, and although most people relish in the glory of the word seeking its fame and recognition from the masses.

I believe a hero never wants acknowledgement for what they do, which is basically performing daily something that each and every human should be doing, during the course of their daily lives.



“Secret Santa”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Secret Santa.”

You get to choose one gift — no price restrictions — for any person you want. The caveat? You have to give it anonymously. What gift would you give, and to whom?


Over the years, I have played the role of Secret Santa either at my church, work office and my community home owners association.

However, one of my fondest poignant memories of playing the Secret Santa role was for a young woman named Cecilia Armstrong who I had known for just over nine years when I played the role.

We met as commuters when Cecilia and I shared seats on the commuter bus from suburban VA into Washington DC. She recently completed her doctorate in a field of study that was well above my understanding and the day before she returned from her honeymoon.

Her husband Kevin also shared in her field of study, but worked for another government agency and took another commuter line bus into Washington DC.

As I looked back over the years our relationship developed into me being the older brother, she never had, as we shared stories of our families as the years passed.

Over an eight year period she had three children and sometimes she would talk of being stressed over the issue of having her mother babysitting her children while she worked.

However, the holidays brought on more stressful times when her children’s school teachers would ask her to commit to providing snacks for several after school events.

One year, all three children each participated in individual productions of a Christmas play, two dance recitals, three music recitals, two soccer championships games, on the weekends ,all between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

She felt guilty, she could not find the time to cook from scratch cookies and cakes as most mothers did. I told her on several occasions to allow her mother to make the snacks or at least buy the bakery needs from the local grocery stores.

Over the years, she relented and used a bit of both, however this always depressed her. On many occasions she left work early to bake the items needed and as a last resort she would buy the items needed.

It was always on the commuter trip home she would realize she needed to buy snack for an after school event for one of her children.

Cecilia spoke of approaching events with regularity, so I arranged for a local delivery service to deliver three dozen assorted cookies, two small cakes and a coupon for a free dinner at a local restaurant to be given to her as she exited the commuter bus.

I had the delivery driver to approach our bus driver Terry Davidson to arrange for the delivery to be given to Cecilia.

Cecilia, looked into the bag smiled and turned to me, saying that her husband Kevin arranged the delivery.

She suggested that I assisted, however, I was able to convince her with the help of Terry the bus driver and the delivery driver who claimed some guy arranged the delivery from the commuter lot. At this point, Cecilia was convinced.

Several years later my wife and I were invited by Cecilia to attend her oldest child’s high school graduation.

The graduation was wonderful and later as we gathered at a local restaurant, Cecilia’s husband, Kevin pulled me aside and with tears in his eyes he thanked me for being the “Secret Santa” some years earlier.

I was stunned and speechless, as he went on to express his feelings and gratitude for me. He briefly explained how much stress their marriage was under when I arranged the delivery of cookies, cakes and the coupon for dinner.

He never told Cecilia that he did not buy the bag of goodies and I agree not to bring it up to Cecilia.

The Secret Santa act forced him to realize and appreciate Cecilia, and how much more he should be doing to make a contribution to their children. We shook hands and embrace each other and enjoyed a wonderful dinner.

My wife and were retired when we attended the backyard graduation party celebrating Cecilia’s youngest child from college, when she and I were seated talking, about our children.

She stopped me and said, I want to thank you for the Secret Santa Gift you gave me years ago. Kevin would never have thought about giving me a hand with the kids.

However, it was the result of the Secret Santa gift that forced Kevin to appreciate me, because I filed for divorce and was to have him served the following month.

Thank you for being my Secret Santa.



“To Be Resolved”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “To Be Resolved.”

How did you do on last year’s New Year’s resolutions? Do you anticipate there would be any leftover items to be carried over to next year?


New Years resolutions are made by many who want to begin the year anew. I have always strived to do my best in all that I do and have never put much faith into doing something in January that I should be doing all year long.

I believe the first month of the year should be reserved for marking the calendar for the up coming year. I believe the first is preparing paperwork for taxes to be completed. Confirming major purchases or repairs to the home or work needed for a car or motorcycle.

The first month of the year is a great time to determine what non-profit organizations to volunteer for or give monies to. This is a excellent opportunity to decide what college courses to take to expand the mind.

The opening month of the year is great for confirming the destination of the family vacation, preparing for the family reunion, or any other activity to be planned and organized involving family.

Hopefully, the daily routine of eating healthy and exercising is incorporated into your everyday schedule of life and not something done during the first thirty days of the year.

I believe it is more important to merge all the above and many more on a routine basis, instead of focusing on one particular element of life to start the year off.

If there is one issue I didn’t mention was slowing down life to de-stress to read a book, write in a journal, and generally enjoying the moments of life.



Cause, Meet Effect.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Cause, Meet Effect.”

I love walking along the beach in the morning viewing the sunrise with a cup of coffee or tea. I spend some days at the beach kayaking paddling through the nearby mangroves, exploring and enjoying the silent solitude, and viewing tropical birds.

On this particular day, mother-nature was displaying its awesome splendor of an azure blue sky, and a warm gentle breeze blowing

One day after three hours of paddling around the mangroves, I arrived back on shore, where I take my bicycle and pedal towards one of the nearby local Bistros lunch.

Upon peddling back to the shoreline, I sit in my beach chair, with a good book in hand to begin soaking in the beauty of the day.

Twenty minutes into my book, I thought it would be a great idea to strap on my personal floatation vest, hop into the kayak for an afternoon paddle.

I paddled away from the shoreline when just about a mile away from the beach, I noticed the wind speed increased and was constantly blowing. I turned to look back and saw a thunderstorm on the horizon, possibly a half hour away. I immediately turned the kayak around and began paddling towards the shoreline.

At just under a mile, I can clearly see the beach front, and my car, however, after ten minutes and what seem to be a couple of hundred paddle strokes, I recognized, my paddling efforts towards shore were in vain. With every stroke of my paddle, I barely gained one or two feet at the most.

Now, I’m just the average hard-headed, determined male, so I double my efforts when I realized the tide was heading out away from the shoreline.

Now, for those of you who don’t know much about paddling a small water craft in these conditions, imagine the swirling current of water circling your kitchen or bathroom sink, and me paddling against the current in the opposite direction.

This effort became a wonderful afternoon workout, better than any aerobic Spin, Step or Zumba class.

After five more minutes of paddling, I’m not making any headway towards the shoreline which is a little less than half a mile away. On shore, I can see my vehicle and my group of friends starting to gather.

I continue in my power stroking when I take one end of the paddle dipping the bladed end, into the water to check the water’s depth, I smiled with enthusiasm when it touched the sandy bottom.

I immediately, take off my personal floatation vest, jump into the water and began pushing the kayak ahead of me, as I swam in its wake.

After fifteen or twenty minutes, I walked out of the water and onto the beach with stiff arms and legs, dragging my kayak out of the water towards the car.

My beach friends, start to gather around, when my friend Samuel stated “I thought, you knew, you don’t go kayaking in the afternoons in southwest Florida, because of the afternoon storms. ”

Embarrassingly, I explained how the beauty of mother-nature, with her warm gentle breezes and my kayak lured me into the water for an afternoon workout.

We all laughed aloud until a clasp of thunder took our attention away as we all looked to see the ominous dark clouds drifting out of the south-east to deliver its scheduled afternoon thunderstorms. 

I learned a very valuable lesson that day, which is to check the tide times and weather forecast before kayaking and if you can see an approaching summer thunderstorm do not put the kayak into the water.

Some days it is best to be satisfied with the casual relationship of sitting on the beach, listening to the tranquil sounds of the water lapping against the shoreline, feeling the warm gentle breeze against my body, and reading a book.



Final Trio

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: ”

For our final trio prompt of the year, write about any topic you wish, but make sure your post features a bookcase, something cracked, and a song you love.

Several days ago, my Christmas spirit was fully operational as I enjoyed my new bluetooth wireless headset, which is an early Christmas gift to me.

I apparently was humming a little loudly because I caught myself earlier and tone down the volume. I was listening to Mariah Carey’s, singing, “All I want for Christmas is you” from the 2003 movie “Love Actually”.

As I walked along, I recognized a book on the floor, so, as I approached, I spun to my right, picking up the book and spun back to my left when my bum collided with the shelf knocking a couple of books to the floor.

I was in such a majestic Christmas spirit, that I spun to my left again and picked up the books placing them on the shelf. I faintly heard in unison someone singing the lyrics of the song playing in my head.

I stopped and noticed several patrons were singing along with my humming.

I was slightly embarrassed, however I easily walk away turning down the volume as I smiled at everyone.

As I continued to walk towards the rear of the building and before entering through the service door, I spun around bowed at the waist and several patrons clapped, except one who held her little finger to her mouth, mimicking the shushing sound.

I immediately thought of Charles Dickens Character, “Scrooge” and silently said to myself, “Ba Hum Bug” there always one.

But aloud I said, Merry Christmas, and stepped backwards into the storage area of the library.



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Getting Seasonal

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Getting Seasonal.”

The holiday season: can’t get enough of it, or can’t wait for it all to be over already? Has your attitude toward the end-of-year holidays changed over the years?

Christmas in America.

There was a period in my childhood, I look upon Christmas as one of the most incredible times of the year, with Christmas pageants, plays, food and of course gifts.

After I started middle school and high school the Christmas plays and pageants continued although, the gifts were not as many, however, I was taught and learned the spirit of Christmas was in my faith.

Now, after I began my life as an adult, the season became a time of decision-making about what gift to get and give to a specific person.

Once I was married with children, it was always an incredible sight to witness the joy and spirit of Christmas as my children experienced and learn the religious meaning of Christmas.

The memories of reading the night before Christmas to my children, and seeing them take part in their Christmas plays and pageants are memories that will last a lifetime.

After many years of decorating homes, attending holiday parties and reading the factual basis of how the holiday began, along with witnessing the commercialization of Christmas beginning in October with Christmas music being played twenty-four hours a day before Veterans Day.

I now celebrate Christmas two weeks before the Christmas Holiday, as not to burn out from all the activities and celebrations.

What has jaded me over the years is seeing people celebrating the holiday and not its spirit during the rest of the year, as it should live within the hearts of anyone who celebrates Christmas.




In Due Time

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “In Due Time.”

What’s your next, most pressing deadline? Are you excited, stressed, or ambivalent about it? What’s the first thing you’d like to do once you’re done with it?


Deadlines? I don’t have any deadlines.

I have future aspirations and dreams, I desire to fulfill however, I have come to believe that hurrying through to get them done would be similar to my life before retirement.

I’m heading into my fifth year of retirement and I have found and read my day planners and calendars from the latter half of the 1980s and I’m now a true believer in keeping a journal.

Because of the calendars of my past, I recognized the hurried life I lived. I have come to realized and appreciate the vacations I took were so important because they were the only time, I slowed down to enjoy life and my family.

However, slowing in other parts of my life would have made life a lot more enjoyable.

As time, has passed, I have come to appreciate my desire to hurry less, and take everything at a slower pace to enjoy every moment of life.

I still get excited to wake and great everyday with the desire to write my blogs, build and develop the characters of my books and short stories.

So, I will publish a book, and I will follow my heart and soul that desires to continue my nomadic travels of the world, “In Due Time”.



The object of my dejection : The Powder Room

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Object of My Dejection.”

Tell us about the object of your dejection — something you made, a masterpiece unfinished, or some sort of project that failed to meet your expectations. What did you learn from the experience? How would you do things differently next time?

After 17 years in my home, I completed various do-it-yourself projects, to include remodeling all of the bedrooms, rear deck, kitchen, dining room and living room. I learned a great deal from these projects, which possibly led me to become a little cocky as I increased my exotic tastes in up grades.

The remodeled my main floor powder room twice in ten years which led me to feel a little cocky about my third remodel. So I began by replacing the ceiling fan, the door and frame, kick-boards, toilet, cabinet, mirror, and lighting.

Now for the flooring I took the idea a little too far when I decided on using natural white marble ceramic tile. Once I began planning the layout of the tile, I soon discovered that it was like putting a jig-saw puzzle together to get the natural design of the tiles matches and this took three hours.

After the grout cured and the bathroom was ready for use, I quickly learned that water and ceramic tile don’t mix well and can become an injury causing magnet, as I almost slipped several times, causing me to cover up the beautiful tile with area rugs.

I became a little dejected when purchasing rug sets that decorated the powder room.

When I entertained guest, I had to cover up the floor with an area rug to prevent friends from injuring themselves.

I was proud to show off the room, although dejected in knowing its purpose was similar to the dinning room, and living room, all show with hardly any use.

fine-grained Italian white marble of the Jurassic period, with soft grey decoration caused by graphite deposits.

Fine-grained Italian white marble of the Jurassic period, with soft grey decoration caused by graphite deposits.


The Language of Things

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Language of Things.”

You have to write a message to someone dear to you, telling that person how much he/she means to you. However — instead of words, you can only use 5-10 objects to convey your emotions. Which objects do you choose, and what do they mean?

When I fly into my mid-west home, I always arrange to have ham my beautiful mature sister pick me up as we treat myself to my favorite comfort foods, that softly soothes my soul, with two slices of soft bread, encasing a fried shrimp egg foo-young without the gravy, surrounded by lettuces, onion, with a slight spread of mayonnaise.

This is why I look forward to my beautifully mature sister picking me up from the airport, because only she and I can seriously bond over such gorgeous comfort food.



Unsung Heroes: Nomadic Adventures

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Unsung Heroes.”

We all have our semi-secret, less-known personal favorites — a great B-side, an early work by an artist that later became famous, an obscure (but delicious) family recipe. Share one of your unsung heroes with us — how did you discover it? Why has it stayed off everyone’s radar?

I have read these prompts for the past six or seven months and my responses are influenced by the process of recalling my past and considering the current chapter in my life, which is retirement.

My lessor known semi secretive personal favorites are the great outdoor adventures I seek and my desires to write. These two desires, drive the B-side of my life, however, I’m not endeavouring to become famous.

Since I have become a pescetarian, I have developed an obscure egg white omelette recipe, filled with seafood or fish with a mixture of just about any type of vegetable, and I have titled this recipe, “Vegetable Omelette Salad”.

In my research to become a full-time recreational vehicle (RV’er) owner, my unsung heroes have become those who have assisted me in fueling my discovery, whether through, podcasts, online forums, and online blogs.

I have traveled across the US from Key West Florida to Fairbanks Alaska, by motorcycle and when my children were younger we used a RV touring the east coast and portions of the western US which only tickled my nomadic lifestyle.

This has never been a hidden bucket list plan, as my family and friends have always been aware of my nomadic lifestyle and now my blogging family is aware also.

Within the next several months, my blog site will have a drastic change as I will write about the transition along with providing photographs from various locations, so stay tuned.



Kicked the Bucket, the anti-list.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Kick the Bucket.”

What are the top items on your anti-bucket list — those things you never, ever want to do, places you never want to visit, books you never want to read, etc.?

Well, before I retired and before the movie, “The Bucket List”, I had a top ten lists and over the years I divided the lists into the most urgent items I wish to conquer before I die.

As I approach my fifth year of retirement, I have accomplished two or three items a year, however, one aspect of my list that probably will never change, and they are cliff diving, skydiving, and bungee jumping.

These last three listed items are further down on my list because the chance of death is instant, with no recovery.

I have an adventurous soul, so there isn’t too many experiences I will pass on, or places I not travel to visit, except, I will never eat bugs unless sautéed and flavored in a sweet and sour sauce, but the anti-bucket list item is, I will never visit or tour North Korea.



Alphabet Soup

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Alphabet Soup.”

Write down the letters of the ABC. For each one, choose a word that begins with that letter. Now, write a post about anything — using all the words you’ve selected.


A – Always
B – Best
C – Child
D – Dressed
E – Excellent
F – Friend
G – Going
H – Hurt
I – Instinctively
J – Jumper
K – Kittens
L – Leg
M – My
N – Never
O – Old
P – Parents
Q – Quickly
R – Running
S – Small
T – together
U – Underneath
V – Violet
W – We
X – X-ray
Y – Young
Z – Zebra
I was 6 years old running at the local playground with my best friend Penelope who was dressed in her violet jumpers-set when we found a green-eyed, black and white striped kitten meowing near the bleachers. The stripes on the kitten reminded me of a Zebra.

Together we took the kitten to the water fountain for a drink, that’s when we noticed the kitten had a hurt leg.

We walked towards our parents and Penelope’s mother asked, where did we find the kitten, and when we pointed at the bleachers, we saw a larger cat, that looked like the kitten’s mother.

My mother, said the leg was broken and we immediately drove to the local pet hospital where they took x-rays and put the kittens leg in a cast.

Six weeks later we adopted the kitten and I named him Zebra, and every time we went to the playground we looked for the kitten’s mother but we could never find her mother.

Now twelve years later, as I awoke to leave for Marine Corps boot-camp, I found Zebra still asleep at the foot of my bed and I couldn’t wake him. He apparently died during the night possibly knowing I was leaving.

So on the way to Armed Forces recruitment office, we stopped by the same animal hospital Zebra received the cast on his leg years earlier.

My mother and I said a prayer as we left the animal hospital and we cried along the way on the way to the recruitment office.

As I exited the car, my mother and I embrace with a long hug, as she kissed me goodbye, she said I lose you and Zebra, in the same day and with tears on my eyes, I replied, “But in six weeks you will gain a Marine mom”.


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/alphabet-soup/”>Alphabet Soup</a>

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/alphabet-soup/”>Alphabet Soup</a>


Sweet little lies

In response to the Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Sweet Little Lies.”

As kids, we’re told, time and again, that lying is wrong. Do you think that’s always true? In your book, are there any exceptions?


Around the age of three or four, I was told to never tell a lie. I was baptized promising never to tell a lie, as it was part of the “Ten Commandments”.

When I became a Boy Scout, I took an oath and promise to never tell a lie. When I entered the military I took an oath and promise never to tell a lie, as a Military Police Officer.

I took an oath for the state of VA promising to uphold the law both to state and local and again to never tell a lie. I was deputized as a US Marshal and took an oath again to never tell a lie. When I married I took vows and promised never to tell a lie.

I maintained my oaths and promise to all, however I’m divorced because I told the truth about her weight and several other questions she asked.

So, I guess I should have lied if I wanted to stay married. I have learned lying to children about certain holiday characters and my ex-wife are the exceptions.



Ready Set Done! (Timed Creative Free Write)

In response to the Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ready, Set, Done!.”

As it’s been a while since our last free-write,… set a timer for ten minutes. Write without pause (and no edits!) until you’re out of time. Then, publish what you have (it’s your call whether or not to give the post a once-over

about writing_ernest hemingway

It has been just a lovely day of reading another autobiography and just before I finished reading Condoleezza Rice’s memoir, of her struggles of being raised in Birmingham Alabama during the civil rights movement.

A portion of the book exemplifies the idea of whether being born of privilege or not, the human desire to succeed is derived from within ones soul. However, a person’s desires and potential can be driven by parents family, friends, or coached, to succeed.

The statement, “They were born to lead” or “They are just naturally gifted,” has been adopted by many to describe some people’s successes. However, there is no proven way to measure what influences cause successes, unless a person’s environment can be monitored from birth, to decide, was it nurtures or nature.

The future success in the field of human biotechnology monitoring, could one day offer a monitoring device, implanted into an infant or child providing parents or scientists with the data needed to end the debate about nature versus nurture.

I know these statements are simple and provides not much detail, but this is a timed creative writing exercises, so who’s ready to digitally marked their child for success or science?



All or Nothing; Peaceful Easy Feeling.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “All or Nothing?.” “Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.” — Sylvia Plath


Which do you find more dangerous: wanting nothing, or wanting everything?

I find neither wanting nothing or wanting everything is dangerous, as, I spent the past five days engrossed in a book, and enjoying life.

I have realized, I have an expiration date, so rushing through life in anticipation of the expiration date is not enjoyable or fulfilling for me.

Wanting everything is not an option, however, not wanting everything is a consideration.

Last week, I attempted to write a response for this prompt and I could not concentrate because my wish to read was stronger than to write.

Now I could have attempted to read a little and write some, however, the decision to focus on one desire, made for a more enjoyable read.

In my response to the prompt, it is not dangerous wanting nothing or wanting everything, it just a simple decision.

We all have an expiration day, we just do not know exactly the date, so I subscribed to the “Peaceful easy feeling” belief,from the Rock Band “The Eagles”.



Feeling Fancy

In response to the Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Feeling Fancy.”

You are given unlimited funds to plan one day full of any and all luxuries you normally can’t afford. Tell us about your extravagant day with as much detail as possible.


For me to enjoy “Feeling fancy,” I would take in a day of luxury pampering in the form of a man day spa.

Several years ago, I visited my son when he was in Hawaii and the Hilton hotel I stayed in included several luxuries in my stay, I never experienced.

The one luxury, I experienced and enjoy beyond belief, was the day spa. Now, as a male in his late forties at the time, I never experienced a massage or was treated in a way that made me feel like a king.

When I arrived, I was given the most luxurious over-size scented robe, scented soaps and gels, to shower and bathe with. I enjoyed a multi directional shower, and bath filled with scented oils. I sat in the jacuzzi and was offered a cigar along with my favorite alcoholic beverage, two I might add.

Two hours later, I sat in a soft plush comfortable chase lounger on a shaded patio, with the smooth jazz music of Kenny G playing in the background. The lounger faced the sunny blue waters of the South Pacific.
I could have slept in the lounger on the patio for the rest of the day however, I still had the deep tissue massage and facial scheduled.

The massage was definitely a new experience, as I was intimidated and timid to allow a woman who I recently met, massage my body.

Now, after this most extremely relaxing and exhilarating massage experience, I must say, the masseuse was so good, I would have given this woman my credit card, my savings account number and the keys to my house back on the mainland.

When the masseuse repeatedly said, “I’m finished sir,” as she walked out the door. I slowly rolled off the massage table and immediately began attempting to balance myself on wobbly legs, while gathering my bearings.

I wrapped myself in the soft luxuriously scented robe and spotted a lazy-boy type recliner where I sat for a period of time. I soon heard a faint Asian accented voice say, “Are you ready for your facial?”.

I had fallen asleep and must have been snoring, since she seem a little embarrassed to wake me as she guided me to another room where I was seated in a massage chair where she began massaging and cleansing my face, applying a mask and pealing off the mask to massage in scented oils.

Up to this point in my life, I shunned the day spa’s experience as a luxury believing, I could not either afford and I would never permit a stranger to massage my body.

I soon felt ashamed and ignorant, because in all of my travels I never took advantage of this luxury available at many of the hotels, I stayed in over the years.

I’m here to tell anyone, to treat yourself to something similar and your troubles will wash away.



The “Play”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “One at a Time.”

In response to the Daily Post’s writing prompt: “One at a Time.” Today, writes a post on the topic of your choice — using only one-syllable words.


With the lights dimmed in the gymnasium, fifty children of the Paulson Youth Center, all below the age of eight, dressed in white gowns and red Santa caps, slowly walked into the church holding electric candles flickering against their faces as the tune the little drummer boy played by a teenage group of six and song by another youth choir.

The play was magical and the pageantry of the choir of thirty local college students singing with the teenagers playing the little drummer boy brought tears to the eyes of many of the parents.

As the smaller children assembled in front of the choir singing, a little girls voice could be heard. “I want to stand with Brian,”. She made this request several times as she pulled away from her mother, running towards her brother who was standing in the front row with his candle in hand recognized his sister and opened his arms to welcome her who stood next to her older brother.

The mother slowly walked towards the groups, and stopped short when the director nodded to the mother, acknowledging it was ok.

It was a beautiful moment when the older brother shared with his little sister, the electric candle to hold.

Suddenly the little girl looking up towards her brother pointing to the Nativity scene to her right, and she could be heard saying, is that our baby brother. The older brother attempted to keep her from speaking, but she continued to ask the question, and finally he said, “No we have to wait on the storke for our little brother, and dad says it will be a while after you”.

She calmly accepts her older brothers answer and returns to holding a portion of the candle, while staring at audience bewilder while the audience laughed. Slowly a smile came across her face as we recognized, a stage star is born.



Recently Acquired

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Recently Acquired.”

What’s the most important (or interesting, or unexpected) thing about blogging you know today that you didn’t know a month ago?


The most important, interesting and unexpected experience I discovered during the past month and including the past four months since I began this blogging journey is the incredible connections I have developed with bloggers from around the world.

The interesting creative writing topics, of poetry to sooth the mind and soul, the provocative wisdom of men and women of all ages from around the world, keeps me inspired and engaged everyday.

Examples of my favorites are;

The inspirational messages from Bloggers like “The empathy queen” http://theempathyqueen.wordpress.com/2014/05/22/the-empathy-queen-looks-for-ms-truth/
The lovely Angloswiss with her amusing tales, brings a welcome chuckle to my morning coffee.


and the inspirational wisdom of Eric Tonnison


The phrase from the song “it’s a small world after all” is a perfect analogy to explain my experiences of blogging.

It’s a small world after all!



Gut Feeling

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Gut Feeling.” When’s the last time you followed your instinct despite not being sure it was the right thing to do? Did it end up being the right call?


I believe women hold a distinct ability to listen and follow their instinctive inside voice better than men, who have heard a screaming instinctive voice yelling don’t deep fry the turkey on the back deck, don’t put the hot fireplace ashes in the plastic trash can inside of the garage or when men where children and told don’t run with scissors in their hands.

All of these are examples of commonsense ideas and beliefs, that go intentionally or unintentionally disregarded.

Usually, it is the arrival of the fire department extinguishing the deck fire, the garage fire, or as a child receiving stitches to close a 5-inch laceration to the left leg.

Now these are all events I have witnesses, and it is the result of these events, I listen very closely to the little instinctive voice, gut feelings, and in most case just reading the owners manuals.

However, I still have not found the owners manual for not running with succors.



Make It Anywhere

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Make It Anywhere.”

“If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere,” goes the famous song about New York City. Is there a place — a city, a school, a company — about which you think (or thought) the same? Tell us why, and if you ever tried to prove that claim.


The phrase “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere,” helped me through a 2-mile military forced march with a gas mask on, and I used the phrase again during one of the coldest winters in the frozen tundra of the Northwest Territories of Canada, hence the reason I will never leave the warmth of Southwest Florida. After those two episodes early in my life, I was never truly intimidated or fearful of too much as my life progressed.

To develop the mentality to overcome anything, I believe I developed early on when my mother forced me to take a typing class during the final semester of my senior year of high school.

I felt so angered with rage, the heat from my body could have burned down my bedroom. My idea of the final semester of high school was to make use of the afternoons off and play around.

I recall the anger I felt on a freezing January morning complaining to my friends as we walked to school. Little did my friends know how intimidated I was by the thought of taking the class, however it was a dreadful fear that over took my mind when I seated myself in front of the Smith-Corona manual typewriter.

I dreaded this class so much. I would have traded the typewriter in for a hot-humid August day of running wind sprints during football practice. But, as the class began, my dreaded fears slowly subsided as I looked around the class and realized, I was the sole male student in the class. When the teacher began the lesson plan, my dreaded fears slowly eased, as I looked around at my female classmates who smiled back.

Being forced to take a typing class my high school senior year during the final semester, initially angered me to no end. However, eight months later, the typing lessons became essential during my first semester of college as I sat in the student library typing my first paper for an English class.

As I sat pecking away on the typewriter, I thought of how I overcame those hot summer football practices, and taking a typing class I dreaded and I realized I could take on anything, because if I made it through those tough times, of high school, I could make it anywhere!



Wronged Objects

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Wronged Objects.”

If your furniture, appliances, and other inanimate objects at home had feelings and emotions, to which item would you owe the biggest apology?

My 1991 Ford Explorer

For the past 19 years I have maintained a 1991 Ford Explorer, and as the ever frugal wise man I am, I keep on driving this original SUV. However, family, friends and especially my son, suggested I trade in the “Exploder,” as he calls her. I named the Explorer, “Betsy” and, she has traveled across the US pulling a popup camper as far west as South Dakota, along the East coast from New York to Florida.

Let’s face it I’m a frugal guy and I see no need to purchase another vehicle especially when Betsy satisfies my transportation needs in retirement of hauling my kayak, bicycle, golf clubs, in Southwest Florida.

I do apologize for permitting her to be parked in my garaged for just over ten years while I drove a company car. I also apologize for not providing a good wax job, along with paying for the detail work needed and not washing the salty snow from the sections that are now showing rust, for this I do apologize. I will however, after completing this posting I will treat her to a car wash, with sweet smelling deodorants and a wax.

With over two hundred thousand original miles on her body, I know her days are limited and I will one day move on to another vehicle, but I am proud of my girl and for the time we have left together, I will care for and treat her to all she deserves, my Betsy.




Not for Thee

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Not for Thee.”

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever received that you wouldn’t give to anyone else? Why don’t you think it would apply to others?


I have received excellent advice from my parents especially as a young child of 5 years of age when I would skate along the sidewalk in my back yard as they said to me do not skate on the lawn.

In my backyard I was daring, courageous and adventurous, however, I wasn’t the best listener and I didn’t take the advice to heart.

As I watched various cartoons on television from the sixties and early seventies, I watched the character’s speed along on wheels, jump and safely land.

My plan was to gather enough speed along the backyard sidewalk jump into the air, across a patch of lawn 1-2 feet wide, and land on the concrete patio.

So before I started, I tightened the straps on my skates, check the tightness with my skate key, and off I went on my attempt.

I pushed my legs so hard, I probably looked like the “Road Runner” and knowing I had enough speed, it was only my wheels colliding with the edge of the lawn, launching me into the air over the 1-2 feet of lawn and onto the concrete patio, scraping my knees, and hands.

As I turned over, I heard my brother laughing so hard he was crying, then my mother quickly approached with hydrogen peroxide, bactine and several band aids.

When she finished, she took my skates off, hung them on a nail up high in my father’s garage and I never used them again. Over the years, I would look up at the skates knowing if I had another chance, I would have made the jump.

Now as an adult, I realized how fortunate I wasn’t seriously injured, during a time before elbow pads, knee pads, and helmets. However, I would never would advise my own children not to skate in the backyard as they would never have worn those skates.



An Extreme tale

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “An Extreme Tale.”

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” — Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
When was the last time that sentence accurately described your life?

The prompt for today, “An Extreme Tale,” directly applies to when, I was motorcycling along the Alaska Highway. In my motorcycle travels across the US, I have viewed various forms.


One sunny morning while traveling along the Alaska highway on my motorcycle pulling my motorcycle trailer, I spent most of the morning dodging frost heaves along the roadway and I must say, the state of Alaska is diligent in posting orange cones marking these locations to alert drivers of the road hazards.

Sings were posted advising of the various types of wildlife to view and watch for as you travel, however, nothing prepared me for a herd of 30-40 buffalo roaming directly in the roadway as I traveled one morning.

At first, like all travelers the sight is incredible, however, as I sat on the motorcycle parked with my kicked stand down taking photos of the buffalo in the roadway licking the asphalt, which apparently they lick the salt left over from the winter, it became clear I  parked on their feeding grounds.

When an approaching tractor-trailer from the opposite direction blew its air horn startling the herd of Bison, they began galloping along the roadway trying to escape the path of the approaching tractor-trailer. Of course, the galloping herd was galloping in my direction, and my only form of transportation.


For about two-seconds I froze with fear realizing one of these 400 – 1000 pound behemoths will collide with me and the motorcycle. So I fired up the Honda Gold Wing, kicked up the kick-stand, released the clutch, and sped away like a rocket leaving earths orbit, weaving in between the massive beasts. When I checked my mirrors, I, saw stunned drivers determining how to avoid being stuck.

When I passed the tractor-trailer driver, he waved at me, as I shifted from third, to fourth gear, realizing I just survived a Buffalo stamped.

Me, and the ” Wanderer, the name I gave the motorcycle” continued along for a mile before slowing down and recalling my harrowing adventure and thought.

“That was the best of times and the worst times.”



Someone Else’s Island

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Someone Else’s Island.”

We’ve all been asked what five objects we’d take with us to a desert island. Now it’s your best friend’s (or close relative’s) turn to be stranded: what five objects would you send him/her off with?


Marisa Hudson, at the age of 60-plus, I will never tell her real age, has been my friend for well over forty years. We first met at Columbia College our freshman year. She is a worldwide marketing executive headquartered in New York City. For the past fifteen years, she gets through the last two months of a calendar year preparing for the holidays with the vigor of a twenty-five year old. Her marketing group has performed exceptionally well, increasing profits for the company and providing substantial bonuses to her staff every year.

However, every January she takes a month-long trip to a secluded island in the South Pacific which has no form of communication except in emergencies. So, in all the years she has taken these vacations, I have never had any communication with her. However, several months ago I listened to her voice mail message that explained the following.

I have fallen in madly love with the most beautifully wonderful man, named Tongo, here on the island. There is a plane that arrives once a month with supplies and we send messages out through him. I have retired from the company, sold the condo in Manhattan across from Central Park, and my staff will clean out my office. Can you send me the photos in my home, Love Marisa.

I was shocked beyond belief as I was listening to the message several times. I did exactly as she asked, although I sent the following as mementos of our friendship.

  1. Photos of her hair styles of the past twenty years,
  2. Several packets of her favorite Starbucks coffee.
  3. Photos of her favorite New York restaurants.
  4. A schedule of Broadway Plays for the upcoming year.
  5. A photo of the New York City skyline facing Manhattan.


So, let’s all raise our glasses as a toast in honor of Marisa & Tongo’s marriage, as they settle into life here on the island of Manhattan in New York City!



Golden Key

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Golden Key.”

You’ve been given a key that can open one building, room, locker, or box to which you don’t normally have access. How do you use it, and why?


As we approach the beginning of the holiday season, and the end of the year, my thought wanders to thinking of helping people for the time that I have left on this planet.

I would love to be the owner or finder of the key that unlocked the building where inside I would find men and women who are gallant fighters of peace, righteousness, and happiness for all on this planet.

Hopefully the key has the ability to unlock the room where their armor is available for them go forth into battling the evils of the world no matter where.

I would try the same key on the locker holding the health of all who seek to end their pain from their ailments.

I would use this only once as no one would take an interest in such miracles unless it is for their personal benefit. So I would settled with just helping a few people and hopefully they will pay it forward.

Enjoy your day and remember the Monty Python song, “Always look on the brighter side of life” to get you through your day.



Waiting Room

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Waiting Room.”

“Good things come to those who wait.” Do you agree? How long is it reasonable to wait for something you really want?


I agree and believe good things come to those who wait, although after many years of life, it is also patience, that becomes a virtue, to build wisdom to learn how long it is to wait for something you really want.


Optimism 101 – Some Life Lessons for a Thinker Learned Along the Way

Originally posted on theempathyqueen:

surround yourself with dreamers

There are plenty of happy people who are saying nothing and sad people who speak from the heart and experience. The sad people are much more interesting.

Life is not always perfect and it is not always kind. But if I can hold a dream ahead of me, without knowing how or when, then I have something better to look forward to.

Positive change is much more fun than status quo (even if it is scary).

Dreamers have enough imagination to let each person find his or her way in their own good time.

Thank you for stopping by! I am holding up my smile as best as I can.

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“A Moment in Time”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “A Moment in Time.”

What was the last picture you took? Tell us the story behind it. (No story behind the photo? Make one up, or choose the last picture you took that had one.)


I often travel several times a week to the beaches of Southwest Florida to capture the beautiful sunsets, and the photo above was taken on January 21, 2015.

It was another beautiful evening for photos of the sunset along the Sanibel Florida Causeway. With gentle 75 degrees warm breezes, without a cloud in the sky for miles around.

I sat for just over an hour photographing the setting sun absorbing the relaxing moments of a magnificent ending of an incredible Southwest Florida day.

Sanibel Island FL. Beach Sunset

Sanibel Island FL. Beach Sunset



Originally posted on R Scott Boyer:

After taking time off to enjoy the holidays and then struggling with the flu for nearly two weeks, I am happy to report that I am finally back at it.

For those of you interested, I am currently working on editing book three in the Bobby Ether series, while simultaneously sketching ideas for book four. At the same time, I have begun work on a new MG/YA series that I hope to write. So far, I have just the general outline and some characters banging around in my head, but I am thrilled at the prospect of a new series and eager to see where it leads.

In the mean time, I thought I would share with you something I jotted down a while ago.

I’m not normally one for acronyms, but I thought it would be fun to create one based on one of my favorite expressions: “writing is rewriting.”…

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Retirement Lifestyle / Nomadic Adventurer:

Words of wisdom on untethering to see the clarity of life.

Originally posted on Eric Tonningsen's "Awakening to Awareness":

“If experience is the best teacher, there’s nothing that comes close to the experience of life.” ~ Michael A. Singer

I’ve not discovered a cure for a major disease nor have I invented something that radically changes how we live. And it’s probably fair to say that neither have you. Still, we are significant; why else would we be here? Each of us is making a contribution to humanity simply by living in full expression of who we are. For whatever or however you are contributing, I honor and respect you!

Life is about continuous progress; the ability to move forward and achieve your own version of greatness. To get there, however, some of us need to let go of things from our past and listen to our inner voice that can urge us toward a space that seems both unclear and at times, crazy.

When we listen to our…

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