Checking the Message Board

Ahhhh, when the day is over, dinner is cooked, served, dishes done, shower over, I waddle in here to check this message board.  It is my only message board.  The one that I blab out all my heart upon, tell all my truth, hope to see some friends, have a good discussion (I love that part even though I do not put my two cents in very often) answer a few posts if I have the nerve, read evey thing and go off to bed.  Sometimes, I think about what I should have said and was to backward to speak, but mostly I am glad to be accepted in this group of real authors. 

Today, the FedEx truck came to deliver the refrigerator tray for my refrigerator door.  He drove right on up and was stuck...stuck like glue.  He was very upset and said, "You need to get me out!  I have deliveries and will be docked and fined!"

You can imagine how badly I felt, but he was very stuck...  I tried to pull him out with my truck,,no way,,,,I put boards under his wheels, no way, called all the neighbors, no way.  An hour and a half later he was still stuck no matter what my great ingenuity could come up with.  My David came home and he was out in three minutes. 

Ahhhhhh.  By the end of all of that, he had calmed down a lot.  Funny how men are.

Love,
Betty

It was not your fault.

Alice, I do not make it rain and I do not make mud.  If I could I would...  What power I would have!

Just think!  Just think about the mud.  Mud is, well....wet dirt.  My mind is in a boggle about the power I could have if I could just make mud willy-nilly!  Snort!!!! 

Actually, mud has not much redemption unless it is coupled with straw and/or grass and made into adobe. Then it would be a building block...for houses or roads..or old Catholic churches....or Roman roads...
Or mud pies, which really do not taste like chocolate.

I love you, Alice.

Love,
Betty

I could write a book of all the things men have told me were my fault - a series of books -

Then the second series would be all the things my children told me were my fault.

.. and none of it was your fault.

I remember TS Eliot calling the river a "great brown God" that men "choose to forget."  Rain and dirt make mud - that is Nature's Way.  She didn't plan for the truck driver to ignore Her product and drive into Her puddle, so it wasn't Her fault that he got stuck, any more than it was Betty's, Just as those books of things were not DK's fault.Any more than the books I could write about the men, or children (sometimes it was hard to tell which was which) in my life

I carried around a lot of "faulty baggage" for a long time before I came to see that other people's issues were never about me.  They are always about the fault-finder.  It is their "mud," not ours.

Betty, I get why you come here.  I feel the same way about this message board and the authors that keep coming back.

I have been rereading Colleen McCullough's book, Morgan's Run. It is about a man who was treated unfairly by the incidents in his life, but he accepted the things that happened to him and did the work that was in front of him to do, no matter how hard, menial dangerous or demeaning it was, he persevered and came through without faulting anyone, including himself.  Jack Thorne's ancestors were a lot like that man. I am getting a much cleared picture of Jack now.



Annie

I wonder why he didn't call AAA instead of waiting around 1 1/2 hrs. They'd have sent a tow truck to pull him out.  I just called it myself a couple of days ago when I left my car door open and the battery ran down. FedEx must have some kind of protocol when this happens. I'm sure they don't expect their drivers to wait around for their customers to help them out.

What LC said.

Abe,

The guy was clearly not a genius by any definition!

What Victor said.