Summer Afternoon in Ohio

Summer Afternoon in Ohio

by Riverwatch

netanimations.net

                                     
                                  

                                                                                        

It is a dark afternoon and I am most thrilled! 
No lightening, of course, or my excitement would twist into anxiety, an easy turn for me. 
The low-slung clouds shift even lower giving the Ohio wind a dramatic boost our way.

“Hey! Ain't this great?” shouts Markie, waving his stick in the wind.

“Hell”, muses Carolyn cautiously. She, being the oldest sibling and self-deceived about the importance of her role within our small group, tries to decide whether to proceed further on our woodland hike and risk a cloud burst, or whether to turn back home to a boring summer afternoon.

Naturally Carolyn does not discuss the workings of her mind with me and Markie. This top-dog-isolation is part and parcel of her straight-A-student aura.

That is OK, her not needing our brain power. She will not try to turn us back. Now that I am 13 and Markie is 12, we are much harder to influence. No power struggles have ever ensued among us. Carolyn's decision-making power only means she will be the target for the fall-out from any choices we make this day. She does not have the power of choice.

Markie and I have the real power, the power to remain blameless.

So we go deeper into the darkening green of the woods. Youth swirls around us like an energy field, cleansing our blood for purer oxygen uptake, stretching our nerves to the transparency of fairy wings, clearing parental voices from our heads, and erasing all thoughts of failure. We are alive with hope.

Markie promptly runs off to the left and disappears beyond the crest of a mossy ravine. Carolyn watches, unsmiling and mute.

I imagine Riley coming over the out-cropped rock to the right. Accidentally, of course. I imagine his surprise, his yummy smile of gladness to bump into me! Darlene is not with him, of course.

Markie returns, bored without his female audience. “Hurry up!” he commands us. My reverie ends abruptly but the wind hugs me firmly in my sudden feeling of aloneness.

Carolyn turns her back on Markie, knowing some personal power exists in denying him audience.

She trudges straight ahead.

Markie snarls his face silently at her departing back. I laugh and he relaxes, good humor restored. We follow slowly behind our sister.

“Nathan Frost likes you”, Markie offers by way of conversation.

How has my brother figured out my crush on Nathan? I am mortified. I say nothing.

“Really,” he doggedly pursues.

I still say nothing, and I hurry ahead to catch up with Carolyn.

Riley, not Nathan, is the one I allow to walk softly through my dreams. Riley is a wounded young man, a lonely only child, somewhat abandoned by his father  in the horrid heart-wrenching aftermath of his mom's untimely and sudden death.

I love feeling sorry for Riley.

Nathan, on the other hand, completely scrambles me.

Nathan is athletic, scholastic, class leader and likes everybody. Even walking beside him makes me mute but I do love walking beside him!

But this is my business and is none of Markie's business and furthermore, I do not like the fact that I sometimes see Nathan talking to my younger brother!

Just then the skies open up on us! The cloudburst is sudden though not without warning. 
The forest trees offer no protection whatsoever. Carolyn has already turned back towards home and Markie and I follow her but in front of her.
“Get moving!” she orders as small rivers of water begin cascading down the hill.

Markie breaks into a run.

Carolyn breaks into a run.

I do not feel like running, especially after them.

The rain is stinging my face and arms. Suddenly Carolyn and Markie outdistance me and disappear. Now I feel like running.

Finally the cloudburst is over but we are soaked, muddy and still panting heavily as we straggle up the graveled path to home.

Carolyn climbs the steps to the porch. Mom is standing in the doorway with arms folded. Carolyn speaks as an adult to Mom. “Some of your children are idiots.”

Mom does not correct her.

“Markie is the real idiot”, I say for no apparent reason as I pass Mom.

Markie grins. “Did I tell you Nathan loves Betsy? He likes you. He loves Betsy.”

“Serves all-you-all right”, Mom says matter-of-factly, looking at our plight. “I told all-you-all not to go.”

Who cares whether Mom cares or not. It doesn't matter. Nathan loves Betsy.

Essence

Essence

A poem by Riverwatch                                  

Ahh, the desert.

In a sunlit land, life is different.

Golden light,

   immense moonbeams

      that let the sun in after the stars come out.

Ahh, the desert.

Where life is clear.

Where the spirit moves free with the wind

      to rustle through the spiny plants

         to blow the dust from off the mind.

Ahh, the desert.

The heart is bleeding in the desert.

The wind, it dries a leaky heart

   and whispers to the mind

      erasing footprints, terraforming.

Where life begins, not ends.

Ahh, the desert.

Where an unfamiliar dimension

   is miraging on the shimmering horizon

      and will not be dispelled.

Life has changed.

Layer after layer after layer blown away

   leaving only the message of the Creator

      and the essence of the created.

Ahh.

The desert.

Spiritual.

Superior.

Unpretentious.

Apropos, the desert dwellers.

Spiritual.

Superior.

Unpretentious.

Kind.

Fun.

Drop by Drop

netanimations.net

'He who learns must suffer

And even in our sleep

pain that cannot forget 

falls drop by drop upon the heart,

And in our own despair,

against our will,

Comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.'

Aeschylus
                                                                                                      

thanks for dropping by,
hoping you return again,
Riverwatch 

Educators

I don't know how it is in your church,

or mountainside open-air cathedral, 
or lake side beach chair,
or even cassino,

but in the church I attend, every Sunday there is a portion of the worship service where we can turn in cards requesting prayer for a specific person or circumstance.

Not only do we get to pray for each others' concerns and dilemmas as Pastor leads us in prayer, but we also get to hear the concerns and dilemmas of the crowd.

This Mother's Day Sunday we prayed for several people, war-torn nations, weather and travel.
But the prayer request that pierced my heart was the prayer for education and educators.

I believe that was the first time I heard that prayed over.....
or maybe just the first time it pierced my heart.
My daughter, a school teacher, had called me the night before in such anguish over how education has gone in our nation.
My heart was open to the anguish of educators.

As I have added education and educators to my prayer list, I wonder what specific should I pray for?
It is all complex even in America.........
                     and fraught  with many  issues,
                                  dangerous issues, in some other lands
                                                       and for some other peoples.

But since science disproves science (again and again), I will start praying for lifelong learning for all of us.
We must be ever learning .

Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere,


                                                                                                     
                                                                                                                                        fotosearch.com






Go tell it on the mountain.

zoeaustrailia.org


I appreciate you and your visit,
Riverwatch



2 Timothy 1:7   For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power,
                          and of love, and of a sound mind.

The Classroom

I have learned that the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person.

Sweet Dreams

 



Sweet Dreams Into Nightmares

Sweet dreams are so important to the well being of our being.
Well, my daughter says it is actually travel, concerts and celebrations in real life that are the ticket to fortified well-being.
It is not that I disbelieve her.  It is just there is none of that in my life at present, nor is there anything on the horizon.
I have to opt for dreamland.

I read that nightmares are caused by dehydration and if you want  Sweet Dreams you must go to bed fully hydrated.
I drank a half pitcher of clear, cold, pure water and retired.

Oh, my gosh!!  The man I love was there in full and living color.  He was, of course, old, while I was so young and, probably pretty.  He was so sweet to me and he was thinking I was 20!
I secretly laughed wondering if it would be a deal breaker when he found out I am only 19!!!
          
                                 eugenblackwell16.typepad.com

Then I woke up.  Slowly
Reality hit like a thunderbolt out of nowhere.
O M G!   I am 72 !  
The living nightmare, the gap between 19 and 72,  was so bad I suddenly knew why some people kick the bucket during their sleep.

What physical turmoil can occur when you awaken from a Sweet Dream 

and realize you are OLD !!!!

Nausea assailed me.
 My heart raced.
My mind bent double back upon itself.
I survived that awakening. but I had a peek into why some people die "in their sleep".  They don't die in their sleep! They die waking up from a Sweet Dream to the Living Nightmare.

Later I met my son for a diet coke at Del Taco.  Our talk had died down into boring, so I told him about my Sweet Dream/Living Nightmare.
He laughed.
"Oh, Mom, don't worry.  Someday you'll be 98 and have a Sweet Dream that you are 72 and wake up screaming in a panic because it isn't true!"
                                                                                               



Well, life may be all about perspective, but let me tell you all this:
tonight I feast on Doritos  before dropping off into sleep.


snackoree.com



Let the well-hydrated have their Sweet Dreams.

Living Nightmares are not all that bad as long as they don't appear suddenly and without warning.

Oh   My   Gosh!     I am 72!

Loving life in a terrifying way
and loving you for visiting,
Riverwatch

Oh, Doctor, My Doctor!

Cosmetic Surgery

Who is at most risk? The surgeon or the adolescent patient?

My darling granddaughter, Christina, decided to have  breast reduction surgery.

A stunningly beautiful girl, she was TIRED, TIRED TIRED of all the humiliation that is directed at over-endowed females in public.

Nobody encouraged her to have cosmetic surgery except her surgeon, her therapist, and her grandmother Riverwatch the RN.

Being an adolescent 19 years old without money, Chritina's parents did have to buy off on the procedure.
 Doesn't mean they approved.

My theory is that every woman deserves a running chance in public!

The female surgeon's theory is I might as well make the money as some dude surgeon.

Her therapist's theory is no other modality of treatment has worked so let's call this surgery a modality.

verywell.com

Dr. Wonderful was stunned at how her “mature and intelligent” patient turned into a freak of all freaks post-operatively.

Thank goodness for Smart Phones which can track and reach a falcon on a cloudy day!
verywell.com

Dr. Wonderful had no place to hide.

When Christina fell on her chest and created nice big hematomas, pictures flew back and forth over the wireless even in the middle of the night. Dr. Wonderful's return pictures were of NORMAL hematomas (there is no such thing) so Christina could compare her hematomas with normal ones and she could see how normal and non-life-threatening were those bulges of blood.

There was so much drama.

huffingtonpost.com

 I was calm. I merely said, with typical lack of nursing sympathy, “Whatever possessed you to double up on your LorTab dose and then repeat it in an hour? No wonder you fell!”

I won't bore you with all the screaming Christina did or all the hard-nosed crap she threw at her world renown cosmetic surgeon.
I felt sorry for the acclaimed woman who took on this case surgically.

But Dr. Wonderful is not renowned for nothing!

When the surgery was all over and pronounced “ excellent outcome” , this surgeon hired my fragile granddaughter!

Dr. Wonderful said to her,  “I want to hire you because you are highly intelligent and already a certified Emergency Medical Tech, and such an interesting patient, and I have only had one other patient like you and I need to have you educate me as to how and why anxiety is released so suddenly and abundantly by the surgical process. 
It will be such helpful education for me to help me with other patients. I will pay you for your time to visit with me for a couple of hours, talking about your feelings and even what your therapist has talked with you about.”

Christina was so enthused with this honor!
She forgot her anger at Dr. Wonderful as she unloaded (for pay) on this savy savy woman who certainly knows how to pull the net around a freako.
Christina willingly and enthusiastically broke her own confidentiality of therapy and let the whole nine yards hang out.
For money, of course.
Paid.
Paid to educate her world renowned surgeon.

Christina will never sue. The outcome was so good and her anger is all gone.

But should she freak out downstream because milk for her newborn won't come in, or some other oddity crops up, she can never sue Dr. Wonderful.
Oh, she could try to sue.

But Dr. Wonderful has all the 411 on Christina.

It was worth the few bucks and a 2 hour time investment in listening (and recording) .

I had to laugh.

Thanks for cruising by,
Riverwatch