If you have been to my blog before you will have read everything below the italics, and very possibly you are one of the reasons I keep getting up in the morning and fighting the good fight. If so, I sincerely thank you. If not, welcome. Just click on which part of my writing and life you are interested in in the titles on the right, then click on the lead in sentence to see the recipe, rambling or poetic rumination as written and formatted. Feel free to donate if you are in a position to help, but you are also helping me by listening to my musing. You are also helping me by helping any others. Compassion is not a competition. Doing good for anyone does a little bit of good for all. So even if it is just smiling at a grumpy driver at the stop light, or buying the coffee of the guy behind you, make someone’s day better and you have helped us both.
I have always liked big words, although recently the big words in my life are descriptions, and diagnosis, and medicines and yet one more way to make me feel my core needs threatened in someones pursuit of payment.
I used the phrase “I have a prodigious vocabulary” in first grade thanks to my father bringing home a copy of a (then) just printed book he felt I would enjoy called “A Wrinkle in Time”. It was my second chapter book (My first was “B is for Betsy”). L’Engle’s book of tesseracts and awkward children went on to win awards, I went on to start many a story with a dark and stormy night and a new found fascination for the depth and magic of math, and to repeatedly use the word “prodigious” because I liked the way it felt in my mouth. My debt at the moment is prodigious, at least to me. I have had more in the past. A mere $1000 would stop my overdraft fees, $2000 my late fees. Less than $10,000 would stop the hospital from calling twice a day, every day. But right now the $35 to fill my gas tank is prodigious, never mind if the belts go (2001 Chevy Prism).
I still read, I still write, and I still choose words for their sound and feel as well as their meaning. I am pretty much a regular 50+ yo survivor who tries hard to make the world a better place for having passed through it. I want things and need things. I even have 20 wishes, or some would call it a “bucket list”, on that list are such things as becoming an Urban Homesteader; finally receiving a Bachelor’s degree; complete a full triathlon; travel to Antartica and Australia; take a long train trip across Asia and visit Chernobyl. Like I said there are 20 of them. But right now my needs are more basic, meet my rent and utilities, buy a few groceries, keep my body and my car running well enough to work another day, another week, another month. Hence this blog.
This blog is my conversation with others (hopefully) who are working on dreams and “unreasonable” expectations of how they can change themselves and their immediate world. Nothing is impossible, doesn’t mean everything will happen, so I am asking for help. I probably won’t write much about why I need the help, other than to assure you if I do get all the medical bills paid off, I will either take down the donate button or make it clear your funding my BSN or trip to Antarctica, whichever comes first. For now, know that all moneys that come here get directly applied to debt brought on by illness, the life altering kind.
I will continue to write about my Urban Homesteading efforts as they evolve; recipes, books, music I embrace; and maybe a few poems and always my geekery. Thank-you for joining this conversation. Please feel free to “talk” back, as much as I ramble, I really do prefer listening.
My medical bills are enormous and I am drowning in debt that has nothing to do with credit card abuse, hence the donate button. I don’t feel sorry for myself, but I am uncertain what else to do. So with that, feel free to contribute or not contribute. If you do, I promise to pay it forward next chance I get. If you don’t have means or inclination to donate, then just join the conversation. All are welcome. What is your Impossible Dream.