I feel like a five year old. Here I am! Look at me! My very first blog! Even though I am an insatiable auto-didact, technology eludes my little brain. As I age I find many more things elude me. It’s ok, I am lucky enough to have most of my wit still. A two year learning curve to create a blog? I can only laugh at myself. I only learn so much from books and the written word. I was on books four and five when I called in a mentor. (Thank you, Mimi!) I hope to be patient with myself while I get my blog up and running. Mimi was very patient with me.
I write some poetry, some fiction, and these little essays about things in our society that bother me, like Big Food, Big Agriculture, Big Medicine, Big Pharmaceutical, Big Industry, Big Banking, Big Business and other bigs, and smaller more local things like real food, homelessness, volunteering, self health care, gardening, cooking, recipes, and parenting. Most of these irritants were supposed to have been fixed in my lifetime – yes, I fly a hippie flag – but it seems they’ve gotten worse. Frankly, because the silliest things aren’t fixed yet, I’m a little cranky. I’m here to tell the truth from my point of view. I read widely across many disciplines and genres and am also a woman of age who has earned the right to voice my concerns in this world, I am taking advantage of what technology sinks into my little brain to expound upon those thoughts. Being a woman of age I remember the old ways of my grandmothers as I see the new age unfold. Many of the old ways can be adapted to the new ways. Not all the old ways should be abandoned. Not all the new ways should be implemented. It’s a delicate balance.
Most of my essays have come from a search for better health. My first major illness I remember was when I was seven: chickenpox. I was very ill for two weeks. Around this same time I had my first dental visits and my first silver-mercury amalgam fillings in my teeth. I’ll detail my host of ills in another post, but this search has made me political by default because so many of our available choices these days are dictated by government and politics. I’ve never liked politics, and still don’t because it makes me angry when another person thinks they can make up rules for me if I’m not hurting anyone and doing my best to help. Some rules make sense, some don’t. Traffic rules make sense because we share the roads: follow the rules, take few risks, watch for fools who are taking risks, pray for safety every mile, and you are likely to have few unsatisfactory experiences. Other rules don’t make so much sense. Common sense seems to have disappeared along with manners. Then, through excruciating experience, the rules can change depending on who you are. Yes, mom told me life is not fair. Will I get over it? Never. I am as good as you, you are as good as me. Unfortunately, money is the great equalizer, and if you have it you get to make more of the rules. If I don’t like the rules I feel it is my duty and responsibility as a citizen of this United States of America for the last almost sixty years, to say what might be changed for the better, even if, especially if, I don’t have money. Guess what? Money is what I don’t have; words are what I do have.
I might rant, I might rave, I might be profane, I may was poetic. I will always, however, be grateful. Rather than blather on in my first introductory post, today I am grateful for: my blog mentor, Mimi and her infinite patience; my own personal computer I do not have to share with any other member of my family; several women blog writers and other female authors whom I enjoy reading and inspire me to use my own voice; water, running, hot and cold; a solid roof; my bed.