From the Desk of Patty L. Fletcher of Patty’s Worlds and a few of our Sponsoring Members and Friends

Thor’s Day (Thursday) August 22, 2024

Moon Phase Waning Gibbous

What’s Up in Patty’s Worlds?

Hello to everyone. I hope this post finds you doing well.
Here, the coffee is hot. The weather is cool, and Blue and I are Walkin’ on the edge of the rules. 😊
JK.
Well, in his Upcoming ‘Team Blue’s Boneyard Detective Agency series it will be real, but…
In the meantime, there have been and continue to be lots of wonderful things happening today.

The first was my Free to Be Me – Books and More call which happens at 1 PM eastern in the ACB community.
What’s that? You ask. Read below for more.

1pm: Free to Be Me- Books and More

A place to enjoy conversation about books or whatever’s on your mind.
Come as you are. Ready to have fun.

That was a blast! I hope to visit you there again next week.
Sadly, no Pathways with Patty call, but no fear, I’ll be working on the planning stages of another call soon. You’ve asked for some iPhone demos on FB, and I’m work in on it.

I also attended a call about the summer Olympics and those who provided live audio description for all the events. It was quite a feat to behold.

To get things started I’m going to send it over to Leonard Tuchyner. He’s a piece sure to capture your attention from first word to last. Let’s see what he’s got for us this evening.

Leonard, I’m glad it survived the migrations.

Strange Things Remembered

By Leonard Tuchyner

Hi Patty, and all

This piece is another one that predates 3 generations of computers that needed reformatting. Hope you enjoy it.

I would say that there are strange and unexplainable things that everyone remembers from childhood. You know, eerie stuff that doesn’t make any sense. I would say that, but I’m not sure it is true of everyone. Certainly, there must be many. There are, after all, a lot of souls in this Earth, but perhaps we’re in the minority. I wonder if your own recollections will be bumped up by reading these accounts.

The earliest memory is from my bassinet. That’s right, my bassinet. At least I think the contraption was one of those things. I’m pretty sure it was situated in the kitchen. There might have been an old sash window off to the left, though that recollection might just be later experiences getting mixed up with this episode. What I am quite convinced of is that there was a narrow fresco painted on the wall I was facing at the time. The wall itself was painted some kind of nondescript beige or tan. The fresco was dark brown.

I lay there looking up at that painted strip. There isn’t much more that an infant can do at that age. But I wasn’t looking at some dead design. What I saw were gnomes and a hollow log. I didn’t have names for those beings or their log, of course. I don’t think one has much language at bassinet-appropriate age. You could call them elves, if you like.

They weren’t very colorful. They wore brown outfits and these pointy, floppy hats, just the way they appear in storybooks. Walt Disney’s depictions of the seven dwarfs weren’t really dwarfs at all. They were elves, or gnomes.

My gnomes weren’t sitting there as though they were posing for linotypes. They were very busy. They were crawling into that hollow log at one end and coming out the other. Don’t ask me why. I didn’t ask them. But to an infant like me, they were very entertaining. My action-spoiled mind of today would get bored rather quickly, but a baby’s mind is brand new and unspoiled, or so they say.

As an adult, I asked my parents about that kitchen. They confirmed that there was a brown streak painted on a tan wall, but it was a little lower than I remember.

Now here are a few questions that bear consideration. For example, how does a baby know about gnomes? Another question is, why do these gnomes conform to the conventional picture of what they should look like?

About fifteen years ago I was wandering through a crafts fair. I was taken up short when I encountered a wax sculpture exhibit. There were my gnomes, just as I remember them. They were perfect replicas. They didn’t have red caps and other colorful duds. They were all in brown clothing and Caucasian colored skin. The artist told me that folklore throughout the world depicted them as such.

Apparently, I was in touch with the archetype as an infant. I’ve run into young people who claim that they see fairies, gnomes and other elementals all the time, or from time to time. I’d really like for my gnomes to pay me a visit. I miss them.

So much for gnomes. Now let us consider cannons. I’m not sure what vintage cannon I’m talking about. All I know is that they were very large, semi-portable, and manned by several uniformed soldiers, of which I was one. These cannons showed up in my dreams when I was still in the crib. I think it was before I had complete control over my bladder at night. I knew how to stand, and I knew how to talk. But what did I know about cannons?

I don’t see how I would know anything at all about them, or even that they existed. I’ll admit this was at least two years into World War II. But my parents never talked to me about guns.

This was a recurring theme in my dreams. I was a soldier helping to fire or maintain that cannon. There were other cannons similar to mine, also in the field, firing at the enemy. Of course, the enemy, whoever they were, were firing back, and I always got hit. The sensation I felt was not one of pain. I never experience pain in my dreams. I experienced the sensation of wetting my diapers. Lo and behold, I’d wake up with the yellow river overflowing its banks. I didn’t experience fear either, in these dreams. The experience just was.

I once discussed this dream in a group, and they thought it had Freudian overtones. It certainly does. But that still doesn’t answer the question of what does a toddler know about the existence of cannons? When that brief period of my life was successfully completed, I never dreamed of cannons again. I don’t miss those things.

There was another incident which was somehow related. I was three or four years old at the time. It was during the day after a snowy night. I was young enough to be sufficiently short for some of the snow drifts in the front yard to come up to my head. I felt something funny going on with my lower lip. I thought I might be bleeding, but it was too cold for it to hurt. So, I went to the front door and called up to my mother to confirm whether or not there was blood on my lips. When she saw my condition, from the top of a flight of stairs, she almost fainted. My lip was hanging off my face. A piece of ice had cut it.

Her alarm disturbed me, but not extensively. What did get to me was the arrival of the ambulance. I am quite sure I did not know what an ambulance was. In fact, I’m not sure that it was an ambulance. It could just as easily have been a police car. What scared the hell out of me was the red light. That blinking red light. I don’t know why it terrified me.

It seems to relate somehow to those damned cannons. When they went off, they made that red color somehow. I think there were tracer bullets whizzing in both directions. They made lights, as well. Or maybe there were ambulances involved after I got shot. I don’t know.

When I was about five, during the Christmas season, I was at Macy’s department store, when I met a clown who had a nose that lit up like a bright red light. I took off like a bat out of hell. Maybe the grotesque idea of a misshapen creature like a clown, that has a nose that lights up, is enough of an explanation for my reaction. Or maybe it was those flashing red lights again.

I don’t remember ever being afraid of such things past that period in my life, although why anyone would think that a person with an electric nose is something to laugh at is beyond me.

There is just one other incident that comes to mind, which falls into this early mystery category. It’s when I had my tonsils removed. I am not clear how old I was at the time. It could have been anywhere between four and seven. Back in those days it was like being bar mitzvahed, baptized or circumcised. It was like a passage of life that everyone had to go through. No big deal, and pretty routine. I remember getting ice cream afterwards. That was part of the tradition.

What in retrospect, was strange about the whole affair is that I watched the operation from above. It didn’t seem strange to me at the time. There were no memorable emotions, and I can’t give you details, except for the overall setting. In fact, it wasn’t until young adulthood that I realized that this experience had a weird aspect to it.

So that’s all I can recall right now. It isn’t that weird stuff didn’t happen later in life. But it no longer went through an unfiltering brain. It no longer was happening in a field of unjudging acceptance. It was, and is, subject to interpretation. In some ways, I miss that ignorant bliss.

Leonard I. Tuchyner, Author

https://www.dldbooks.com/tuchyner/

A Word from more of our sponsors.

These announcements and columns have been brought to you by our totally talented Patty’s Worlds Sponsoring Members. Let’s have a word from them below.

First up, a very active Sponsoring Member, author and poet Abbie Johnson Taylor.

Wishful Dreaming #SixSentenceStoryThursdayLinkUp #WritingPrompts #Inspiration
I couldn’t believe my luck. Here I was, at my senior prom, dancing with the most handsome boy in my class. I didn’t remember him asking me to the prom or even asking me to dance, but I didn’t care,
Continue reading at the link below.

Wishful Dreaming #SixSentenceStoryThursdayLinkUp #WritingPrompts #Inspiration

Next up, a voice we’ve not heard from in quite some time.
Pranav R. Lal shares his experience when accompanying his father on his last journey.

Here’s Pranav with more.

*Note*

Please accept my condolences Pranav.

When the unthinkable happens
by PRANAV · AUG 22, 2024
My father died on 17 August in hospital. I am not going to elaborate on my emotions in this post.
I wanted to experience every minute of his last physical journey. He was placed on a stretcher which was probably made of bamboo. I rode with his body in the hearse. ‘
I do have my organic memories of that ride but wanted something tangible.

Please continue at the URL below.

When the unthinkable happens

We continue with guest contributor Sally Cronin. Sally contributes to the Health World Column in the Writer’s Grapevine Magazine and Sips of Wine from the Grapevine Magazine as well.
Here she is with tonight’s #HealthWorld contribution.

Smorgasbord Health Column – A-Z Family Health – The Kidneys – Function – Kidney Stones by Sally Cronin
Posted on August 22, 2024

This series originally ran in 2021, and I have updated with any recent research into the conditions I am featuring and hope that you will find helpful.
Many common health conditions are improved with simple treatments and dietary changes and in this series, I am going to look at some of these health issues in more detail.
The Kidneys – Function – Disease – Kidney Stones
The kidneys are major organs that can have a dramatic effect on our overall health. As they are linked closely, I am also going to take a closer look at urinary tract health for both men and women in upcoming posts.

What is kidney disease?

Click or copy and paste the following URL for the full article.

Smorgasbord Health Column – A-Z Family Health – The Kidneys – Function – Kidney Stones by Sally Cronin

Thanks, Sally, for that informative piece.

Next up, I’ve a piece by Sponsoring Member Marlene Mesot.
Take-it-away Marlene. By the way, happy belated birthday.

Birthday Essay
By Marlene Mesot
07/23/2024

There must be an incentive to keep going. Whether this incentive exists depends largely upon attitude. Your birthday is a good example. How do you feel about yourself? Some people embrace birthdays as a time to celebrate “me”, whereas others feel it is not proper to single out oneself for such recognition.
Each life is a precious gift and each life has choices and numerous possibilities for paths to follow. How we view ourselves will have an impact on how we view others and how we treat others. It is natural for a very young child to want to be older and for a very old person to want to be younger it seems. This is one aspect of life that we do not get to choose as time always moves forward only. The only adjustment to this status we can make is in our attitude.
My very best friend since early childhood and her husband have the unique distinction of celebrating their birthdays on the same day of the same month, but a year apart from each other. As we are now in the older people category, I recently wrote to her in an email correspondence.
“I am remembering both of you on your special day that we don’t acknowledge anymore.” I made the assumption that she, or they, wouldn’t want to be reminded of the day that marked another year older. Fortunately, she set me straight with an optimistic reply.
“Well, I acknowledge my birthday because God has chosen to give me another day to make amends if need be. Correct anything I must. I do accept that life has changed not always the way I’d like it to be. But each day is an adventure.”
Each day is an adventure. What an exciting way to view the day, as a new opportunity. This reminds me of the Bible passage that says that God’s mercies are new every morning. Each day is like a renewal, a new start, a way to continue on. Meditate on the Bible passage.

The LORD’S acts of mercy indeed do not end,
For His compassions do not fail.
They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3: 22-23 (New American Standard Bible).

This is the day which the Lord has made;
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24 (New American Standard Bible).

During the 1960s singer Andy Williams used to end his television program by singing, “May each day of the week be a good day. May the Lord always watch over you.”
There is a cycle, a rhythm, to each day and each season on this earth. We now measure the time of day in a 24 hour cycle, but before we became so precise, day was measured by the rhythmic pattern of darkness and light, moonlight and daylight, sunset and sunrise. I put things in this order because of the Creation put forth in Genesis, the first book of the Bile.

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light day, and the darkness He called night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day.

Then God said, “Let there be an expanse in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.” God made the expanse, and separated the waters which were below the expanse from the waters which were above the expanse; and it was so. God called the expanse heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, a second day.

Genesis 1:1-8 (New American Standard Bible).

According to a Google search, Circadian rhythm is the body’s internal 24-hour clock that regulates sleepiness and alertness cycles by responding to environmental light changes. It’s similar to a daily schedule that determines what to do based on the internal time of day. Circadian rhythms are the physical, mental, and behavioral changes an organism experiences over a 24-hour cycle. This may be a good explanation for jet lag, because our body has to adjust to an altogether different environment when we travel to a region in a different time zone from the one we are used to. This backs up the establishment of a pattern or cycle to our day, the influence of the cycle of the sun, moon, earth relationship and its importance to our lives and existence. It is said that environment has an effect on our well-being and general attitude. Seasonal changes can affect our moods and behaviors, which are all part of the rhythmic cycle.
Like a birthday, which marks a life’s beginning, the earth also had a beginning. Do celebrate the special day of your birth because as David proclaimed to the Lord:

I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well.

Psalm 139:14 (New American Standard Bible).

In this passage, fearfully means with reverence, with awe, not being afraid. It is a celebration of life, that what God has made is good. Each person is an individual, a unique creation. There is no one else exactly like you, not even an identical twin. Each creature created is unique.
The question is, if birth is the beginning is death the end, or could there be something more?

Visit Marlene at her website below.
https://www.marlsmenagerie.com/

WOW. This was pretty amazing. What food for thought Leonard and Marlene have given us tonight.

I’d love to know your thoughts, and I’m sure they would too.

Next we’ve Stephen Halpert. His posts are thought provoking, but they’re wonderfully funny too.
Check it out below.

Doom and Gloom

By Stephen Halpert

Perry White, staunch editor of Worcester’s legendary newspaper The Tough and Grisly stormed into Clark Kent’s cramped cubicle. His face was red, his mouth grim. He slapped Kent’s recently completed 4th of July overview of America down hard on his ace reporter’s desk. “What’s the meaning of this kind of tripe Kent? If I want drivel, I can go hire some kid fresh out of high school.”
“But Chief, everything I’ve written here is true. America’s on its knees. Between the floods in the mid-west, the rampant fires in California, the veritable collapse of the mortgage market, over the top oil prices, not to mention a President who’s worried about war with Iran, why our readers haven’t got a chance.”
“So what?” Perry White bellowed. “No need to rub their noses in the obvious. At times like this a good daily newspaper must evoke optimism. It needs to guide everyone through those roads less traveled and to focus upon reaffirming the blessings of liberty. We must strive to put a smile on the faces of our readers. That way they’ll feel good about going out and buying what we advertise.” He smirked and pulled at his suspenders.
Clark Kent shook his head slowly. “With what money? Who’s got money anymore Chief?”
“Everyone, Kent,” Perry White barked, “When it comes to spending, and you’re assigned to make sure that that message gets across. After all we owe a vote of confidence and gratitude to our esteemed advertisers. Priority spending. That’s what you gotta remember.”
The reporter sighed. “But what about loyalty to our readers, Chief? Those hard-working dedicated folk throughout Worcester County who dig down deep in their pockets just to get our tidbits about the Red Sox and a chuckle or two from Beetle Bailey?”
Perry nodded vigorously. “Exactly, Kent. Our readers want to be amused, not educated. Let the Internet break time-sensitive stories. Our job is to provide greater insight and depth: How to cook up a perfect crock of clam chowder. What laptops and iPod are on sale over at the Mall.” He paced back and forth, or tried to. “Sales, Kent! People want to be told what to buy. Penetrating information like that Kent. That’s what our readers want to know, not some poppycock about America going broke.”
Clark Kent took off his eyeglasses and polished them on his tie. “But that’s the case, Chief.”
Perry bumped his knee on the desk and stopped pacing. “Who cares? Besides who says so? Some cynical network news anchors? A handful of snide commentators on cable in love with their factious, fancy vocabularies? This is Worcester, Kent, not some high-end watering hole somewhere on Long Island.” He rubbed his knee.
His reporter peered at him seriously. “But sir, we’re talking about the 4th of July. Our most passionate holiday when Ben Franklin gave fireworks to Tom Paine and young John Quincy Adams and insisted they speak absolute truth to America’s new citizens.” Kent’s forehead wrinkled in dismay.
“Hah!” Perry White put both hands on the desk and leaned in. “Bananas, Kent! Today it’s more a day of retail triumph, the selling of America. A day to buy everything you think you want even if you don’t know for sure if you need it or not; maybe that new car, or a trip to a seaside resort.”
The reporter shook his head. “How can people even go celebrate at a beach when they can’t afford gas to get there?”
Perry snorted. “Then let them have back yard barbecues, sit around some neighbor’s pool and feel proud. Never tell Americans that they have lost their way. Why that kind of tripe is downright un-American. Besides it’s not true.”
Kent eyed his article. “Better than 88% of those surveyed in recent poles would differ with you Chief.”
Perry shook his head. “Who cares about pollsters? They’re all in the back pockets of the lobbyists. I want live news Kent. You want to break a story? Go to the mall and find out how popular Blackberrys are these days. Hear me Kent, we have a holiday weekend at our throats. Tell people what they want to hear, what sort of dogs for instance are up for adoption at the pound?”
Kent smiled. “These are dog days Chief. Best to avoid them lest you get bitten.”
Perry frowned and wished he had a chair to sit down in, but the office was too small to hold more than the reporter’s desk and chair. He sighed and rubbed his hands together. “Do you realize how much advertising dog food manufacturers buy each day in The Tough & Grisly? This is our market Kent. not those defeatists who look for excuses when they can’t pay their bills. What you must understand is that it’s the words around the ads that put the readers in a good mood to go out and buy.”
Clark Kent looked up at him searchingly. “So you’re saying that daily newspapers are becoming nothing more than—” he grimaced, “shoppers?”
Perry smirked. “No becoming about it. We’ve been that way for years. That’s why our advertisers still buy in.”
The reporter shook his head. “But Chief, hardly anyone can pay their bills anymore. Debt has become a nationwide epidemic.”
Perry grinned. “Then we’ll sell advertising to bankruptcy lawyers. Forget about truth, Kent,” Perry White stood up straight and nearly banged his head against the low ceiling. office. “Remember Kent that words are used to doll up the ads. You want truth, justice and the American way? Go write for a comic book and forget about daily newspapers. Our job is basic, Kent: keep the advertisers happy. And if that doesn’t continue to happen, we’ll all be selling apples on the corner.” He turned and left the small office, a smug smile on his face.
Clark Kent shook his head and stood up. Carefully, he removed his jacket, shirt and tie. As he completed his transformation, he took his eyeglasses off and set them down. “Well, at least I can go catch some crooks,” he said, and he opened his office window stepped out.

A graduate of Emerson College, Stephen Halpert has been a published author since the 1970s. Most recently, his weekly column “American Scene,” which ran in The Grafton News from 1989 to 2022, featured humorous vignettes of his life with his wife, Tasha, and serial fiction. In 2018, Halpert published his first collection of fictional tales, Abracadabra Moonshine and Other Stories, available on Amazon. His next writing venture is titled “Mona Lisa’s Eyebrows and other stories.” Contact
Stephen to learn more.

StHalpert@aol.com

Now, here’s the other half of the Halpert team, author and poet Tasha Halpert.

Heartwings Love Notes 2049 My Personal Search

Heartwings says, “You won’t know what’s around the corner until you’re there.”

Life went on, my children grew and went to school, and I became a Yoga teacher. Like many important changes in my life, it happened serendipitously. With five children and a busy life, I was getting very stressed. Having trouble sleeping, I resorted to memorizing long poems, reciting them to try falling asleep. One day I mentioned this to a friend.
Several days later he gave me a book on Yoga by Richard Hittleman. Telling me it might help me relax, he said it had fallen into his hand the day after I had told him my plight. More serendipity! I studied the directions and followed the exercises. Soon I no longer needed to recite the long poems. I was falling asleep easily and sleeping soundly.
Sometime later a woman I knew announced she was teaching a Yoga class. Thrilled to have an instructor I eagerly signed up. Although it ended after twelve sessions, I continued my practice. Later on, as I was talking about Yoga with a friend; someone overheard me and invited me to go with her to a gathering of Yoga teachers and students in a nearby town. I jumped at the chance. The day we were to go, she had to cancel out.
Deciding to do it by myself, I drove to the address and found myself in a large room full of leotard clad women, none of whom I had ever met before. They all had Yoga mats! I didn’t. So I laid my coat on the floor and feeling glad to be there, followed the teacher’s instructions. At the end she led us in several chants. Something about them made me feel as though I had really come home.
As the session ended, I discovered she had a studio not far from where I lived. Immediately, I signed up for classes. At almost the same time, the wife of the minister asked me to teach a class at my church. The coincidence was very helpful because I learned at the studio and taught what I learned. Some years later, my teacher taught a teacher training class that enhanced my knowledge. Eventually she had me teach my own classes for her in various places.
Having been uncoordinated as a child, I found Yoga to be very useful for gaining physical skill and coordination. I also grew proud of my newfound abilities. Better still, in a year or two, my teacher opened a larger studio and had monthly gatherings of spiritual teachers. Asked to be on the welcoming committee, I was able to interact personally with many of them.
The long lasting practice of meditation that evolved from my study of yoga, as well as the wisdom I gained from the exposure to the many spiritual teachers she featured has been one of the most helpful experiences of my long life. While my journey had begun long before, it was given a gigantic boost by these two new additions.
To be continued

May you discover new helps to your journey.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

Comments, questions, suggestions? I so enjoy hearing from readers. Do write, please?

A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective.com/pujakins.

Closing…

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Blessid Be.