Hodge Podge

Obviously, I have a thing for cemeteries. They are so quiet, so peaceful. I don't believe ghosts walk there. Those spirits are whereever their memories take them, I think.

It is dreadfully warm with a hint of autumn in the air. We are desperate for rain. I see Bedford has declared a drought emergency; this county only does that as a last resort, I think. The officials are not exactly farmer friendly.

In the news, I see the media's circus about the Ramsey thing has blown up in its face. Good. Too much time is spent on things that mean nothing and no time is being spent on the things that matter very much. (Yes, I know, the death of a child isn't "nothing" but it happened 10 years ago. You can't tell me no child has died in the time this story hit the streets last week. Where's the scoop on that?)

How about a profile of how's the current economic policies are affecting real people? Or a story on the loss of farm land in the nation? Or the water crisis, which is very real and being completely ignored? Anything but celebrities or wannabe celebrities.

The husband called and he passed his physical. His cholesterol numbers are very low, etc. etc. His only trouble is his hearing, which seems to be common among firefighters. He will have to get some testing done for that, although I was quickly informed that a hearing aid is not on his purchase list.

He will probably outlive me, she of the high cholesterol. No matter what I do, I can't make those numbers fall. I refuse to take the medicine that is for that. The side effects are incredible; they would kill a horse. I have a tendency to react poorly to many medications, and to me it just isn't worth the risk.

Had a brief e-mail correspondence about poetry and a Hollins professor, Jeanne Larsen. She is presently head of the creative writing department, has a string of degrees, several published books, etc. She was my favorite teacher as an undergraduate student. I took a number of classes under her, and wrote some good poetry, some of which was published. I worked with her for about eight years, because that is how long it took me to go part-time and obtain my four-year English degree.

Jeanne had, I was told, great expectations of me (she never said a word, though). I suspect I have fallen short. I am not a poet, or a fiction writer. Just a news hound.

In the end, it is my lack of direction that has done me in. It lingers there like my high cholesterol, an obstacle I can't figure out.