Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Election Day - Where's my famous motivation? Poem: Where the Hell am I ?

Township Commissioner emailed, "Weather tomorrow is going to be wet and messy.  It will be easy just to stay home but more important to get out and do your civic duty.  Embrace the day and what it represents."

Spoken by a true leader, Sam, who runs Buxmont Transportation.

Scott and I got there nice n early. So did the whole town.

"Well," I said to Sam, "we're here tho it's wet and messy."

I had an appt with my endocronogist, Cecilia. Brought my notebook with my diabetes stats and headed out, directions in hand.

Construction ahead! Could not go further.

Then Scott re-routed me. Couldn't find the place.

The rain was unbelievable!

Wipers:  ta-da, ta-da, ta-da!

One of the worst storms I've ever driven in.

At home, went to bed for a little lay-down. Listened only to the noises on the street and myself berating myself for missing my appt.

Knew I was sleeping bc of the funny little dreams I was having. Just snippets that made no sense.


November is Novel-Writing Month. Registered on NANO.

They wanna know everything about you.

I immediately went off, ooh, it was so frustrating!

Started my novel. For research, went to the Upper Moreland Library and stared at their fish tank.

Just brewed some Dunkin Donuts Coffee to help work on my novel. Good progress! Just finished Chapter One.

Columbo is on YouTube. Watched two great episodes. Scott remembers them well.

The great RUTH GORDON, of Harold and Maude fame, starred. Check her out at Wiki here.

Garson Kanin and Ruth Gordon 1946.JPG
She played a famous crime fiction author, who killed.... oh, you go on YouTube and find it your own sweet self.

Where will YOU be on Thanksgiving? I am awaiting a response from someone.

Am sitting here in the warmest sweater I have, othan the Penguin sweater I bought in a Louisiana, I believe, outlet store.

Confession: Am wasting time now before I write a poem.


You've heard of hell,
Hades, Valhalla,
I was heading there
down a road whose
name I did not know:
Killer Pike.

Windshield wipers
kept their pace
faithfully, as
car lights blurred my vision
in front and behind.

Save me! Save me!
I cried inside.

Blair Mill Road, read the sign.
I slithered in front of someone,
and made a right.

No one on the road, yet.
Yes, here they come,
galloping behind.

I know where I am!
Stopped on a wet hill
at the red light.


Will I slip and slide down?
God protect me!

Light turns green.
I press my pedal.
Car obeys like
Smarty Jones
going for a trot.

Home! Home! Home!


Old photo of window sill, full of sacred objects, including plant from Judy Diaz, a gift for my kidney transplant in 2011. She is living out in Colorado, as is Dr David Robertson, who I no longer view on Facebook, cuz I ain't on it, no more!

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