Ahhhh! What’s that!

No! Don’t TOUCH it! It might bite!

That’s better! Stay back!
Taken at the Roanoke Science Museum, December 2021.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: lips.
Ahhhh! What’s that!

No! Don’t TOUCH it! It might bite!

That’s better! Stay back!
Taken at the Roanoke Science Museum, December 2021.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: lips.
I went to the post office Monday. I am in a rental house, and get packages every so often for the previous renter. This time I realized at the post office that one was misdelivered and was to the house next door. Ooops. But the post office said they would redeliver it.
I love snail mail letters. I have colored pens and stickers and stamps. The whole thing makes my inner child very happy. Once I got a letter from my mother-in-law saying that my letters are national treasures! I kept that letter.
I haven’t written myself a letter, but maybe I should. What would I write?
I sent the envelope above out, but it came back. I will be driving home soon and wrote to a friend on the way, but I must have the wrong address. I bought the stamps here. The stamp pads were expensive, though, so I only got two!
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: post office.
The first photograph is a close up of an arch at Arches National Park. We went early, so it was not too hot at first.
This arch.

It is all gorgeous and alien. Essence of rock.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: essence.
I see someone in clinic with a difficult boss.
This brought up work stories. Now, are these coping skills or manipulation or a bit of both? You decide.
Long ago I work in a lab at the National Institutes of Health. We are super busy and doing a lot of overtime and have some media pressure as well. Our boss gets us together and gives us hell, about making mistakes. I am annoyed, because I’ve been really careful. I stew. I write a letter, what I think he should have said, which is telling us all great job, you’ve worked super hard, we are under pressure and also we need to not make mistakes. I circulate it to the four other lab techs, who enjoy it. The lab cheers up a bit. Eventually I get brave and give it to the boss. He likes it and reads it to everyone, who try not to laugh. A year after I leave the lab, I visit, and he has that letter up on his bulletin board.
Long ago I am made chief of staff at a hospital. My goal is to finish the monthly meeting in an hour. I have two senior doctors who always blow up about something in the meeting. I decide to be proactive and go to each one before the meeting and prime them. I pick a topic, say I am worrying about it, and what do they think? They each then blow up in the meeting, but now they have no opposition so there is no brawl. I prime them about something that is not really controversial. I do get the meetings done in an hour.
One year I go to the lake with my family. My children are small. My father has been drinking heavily. I call ahead and say, “Will you treat our tent site like my house and not come there if you are drinking?” “You don’t own the lake land,” says my father. “We don’t have to come.” I reply. He agrees not to drink at our tent site.
He is angry, though, and pretty much won’t speak to me. I ask if he would come to a family sing at my site. He says no. I think about it for a while and ask my cousin to hold a sing at her cabin. My father agrees to that, not knowing that I am the instigator. He is happy at it because he’s said no to me and yes to her, and I am happy too, because I love to sing and sing with him.
My father was one of eight people to start Rainshadow Chorale in 1997. I sang with him in the chorale from 2000 until the year he died.
Where is the line between manipulation and coping with a difficult person?
I think this is a time travelogue, so let it be my Ragtag Daily Prompt for today.
The photograph is of my father in 2012. He died in 2013.
Do these look like giant delicious rolls?
Or maybe the front one is the Starship Enterprise and the back one is an enormous rabbit chasing it.
I do miss bakeries. I still go in with my daughter and sniff all of the delicious aromas, but I can only eat the things without gluten. Never mind, I could eat whatever I wanted for half my life.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bakery.
My daughter, her housemate and her housemate’s parents came Friday night. We all went to Arches National Park yesterday morning. This is part of the Parade of Elephants.
This morning we went to the Colorado National Monument again.
My daughter and I both practically backed away from this optical illusion. CUT THAT OUT! NOT FUNNY!

Anyhow, the outdoors is my feed, nourishing and amazing all the time.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: feed.
My now adult children call their father “The fossil”. Maybe they call me the relic, I don’t know. I love this photograph, taken in about 2003, of my daughter and her father. This is what turns parents in to relics, right?
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: relic.
Older
bolder
golder
told yer
moulder
soldier on
What is older? Anything and anyone older than me? At one point I have 5 women who are over 100 years old as patients. Two are 104. One is local indigenous tribe and tells me about white women moving to another pew if she sat down near them in church, back when she is in her twenties. I am apologetic at that visit because it is hospital week. Our pacific northwest hospital has chosen cowboys as the theme so being a bit oppositional defiant, I have braids with one feather hanging down. I swear that EVERY ONE of my indigenous patients comes in, including the 104 year old. I apologize, but they mostly seem amused by my rebellion.
They also influence me. Now when a 72 year old complains about being OLD, I say, “You are not old in my practice.” They look confused. I say, “I’ve had five people over 100 all at once, so you don’t get to complain about being old until you are 90.” People laugh, but they also usually look pleased. Over 100 is a LOT older than 72. When someone is over 100, I don’t really doctor them much. I might say, “This is what the book says we should do.” “I’m not doing that,” says my 101 year old. “Ok, cool.” I say. It’s hard to argue with.
And the joke about the centurian? What do you like best about turning 100? “No peer pressure.” Um, yes. I want them to tell ME what they’ve done to reach 100. The one thing that they all have in common is that they are all stubborn. I don’t know if stubbornness is what gets them there or if we just get more stubborn as we get older. Both, perhaps.
By stubborn, I don’t mean that they don’t learn and do new things. I had a woman in her upper 70s who I diagnosed with diabetes. At the next visit she said cheerfully, “I found these five apps for my phone. This one tells me the carbohydrates, this keeps track of the distance I walk, this one tracks my blood sugar.” I don’t remember what the other two did. This was a decade ago. She was retired from Microsoft. I wanted her to teach a class for me and all of my other diabetic patients.
My grandmother took classes in her 80s in lip-reading. She was going quite deaf and her hearing aides were not terribly helpful. She had videotapes and a rather shy teacher who would come to the house. She would glare at him and the videotapes. She attacked learning it like a piranha and was furious that she couldn’t learn it faster. I am like that too and my son learned some patience from the violin. He couldn’t play well immediately and found that practice works.
At what age is someone old? I think that’s moving target and the older we get, the older we think it is. I do think 104 is a lot older than 72. When does your culture think that people are old? My fierce grandmother said that she would look out her window. “I see little old ladies across the street and think, oh, poor things, they are so old. But then I think, OH, I am older then they are!” She died at age 93, fierce until the end and curious about death too. Her last words to my father were, “Look, Mac, I’m dying.” He said, “I’m looking,” and she stopped breathing. She was always curious and funny and could tease quite terribly and she and my mother butted heads and loved each other. She loved my father too, and me.
The photograph is my maternal grandmother, Katherine White Burling and it’s one I took.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: older.
For Ceeβs Flower of the Day.
The word monument makes me think of a memorial or a statue, not a huge park with rock formations. That is a national monument: “a place of historic, scenic, or scientific interest set aside for preservation usually by presidential proclamation”, according to the Merriam Webster Dictionary on line. The Colorado National Monument is from 1911 and by President Taft. The 23 mile Rimrock Drive is two lanes, switchbacks, tunnels and pull offs for hikes and views. It was not very crowded on Sunday but there were multiple bicycles and really little or no shoulder. We were very careful to have a stretch that we could see before we passed anyone. It certainly will put anyone in shape to ride that road!
The photograph is of window rock. There are few railings in the monument, but there is one by the window. With a sign saying “Do NOT go out on Window Rock.” I agree and we didn’t.

Right now there are 121 National Monuments in the US, according to this site. They are different from National Parks and National Forests. Let’s go visit them ALL! That would be an interesting bucket list and I would be that someone has done it.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: monument.
Home to the Longette!
Intelligence that is not artificial: we are real.
BLIND WILDERNESS
in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Or not, depending on my mood
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain!
An onion has many layers. So have I!
Exploring the great outdoors one step at a time
Some of the creative paths that escaped from my brain!
Books, reading and more ... with an Australian focus ... written on Ngunnawal Country
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Coast-to-coast US bike tour
Generative AI
Climbing, Outdoors, Life!
imperfect pictures
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
En fotoblogg
Books by author Diana Coombes
NEW FLOWERY JOURNEYS
in search of a better us
Less Noise. More Meaning
Art from the Earth
π πππππΎπ πΆπππ½π―ππΎππ.πΌππ ππππΎ.
Taking the camera for a walk!!!
From the Existential to the Mundane - From Poetry to Prose
1 Man and His Bloody Dog
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