DynoReads

Thank you for reading & task ng the time to write a rwvieq.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/rossalynwarren/a-woman-called-911-and-pretended-to-order-a-pizza-to-alert-t#.vt68o0Z1z She was smarter the story makes out. She kept her head and let the police know what she needed without letting her attacker know what was going on. I hope no one here ever needs this information, but should you be in a bad situation call 911 for delivery.

Yesterday was bittersweet. My sister sent me a text to write our older brother's obit. She had wanted to do it, but a crisis with her adult children interfered. It was also my younger brother's 37th birthday. The obit was simple, we had a max of 4 lines. XXX, 51, of XXX passed away on January 24, 2015 at UPMC. He is survived by 3 sisters and one brother. Preceded in death by both parents and 1 sister. Very sad summation of nearly 52 years. It says nothing of the boy I remember: The boy who helped me up the hill in the side yard while sledding with the dog and our younger sister (ok, he helped by putting a hand on my butt and shoving me). The boy who would put my baby doll's head back on after our cousins tore it off again (and hid the other doll when they visited to keep it safe). The boy who gathered scrap wood and built a refrigerator for my play kitchen. The boy who let Mom and I watch Wizard of Oz on the brand new color TV while he and Dad watched baseball on the black and white TV, and the look on their faces when Mom and I thought Wizard of Oz was all black and white and let them have the color TV (and his laughter many years later when I learned of our error). The boy who would let me have the corner where the door jam and barn door met so I was out of the wind while waiting for the bus. And the 11 year old boy who met me at the corner after school every day to walk me to the foster home and protect me from the bullies, even though he had been home from school for half an hour. The boy who hit me in the head with a rock, requiring 17 stitches. Teenage years changed him. Our foster sister introduced him to cigarettes and then marijuana. By his 13th birthday he was in reform school for drugs, alcohol and theft. He had several drunk driving accidents over the next couple years, mostly in the same curve where he was going too fast to make it. He brought home a german shepherd pup after a night of drunken partying and had no clue where he got it. I don't know why he took that path, our parents divorce, peer pressure, mom's mental illness, the bigotry we faced over mom's mental illness, or maybe he was self-medicating his own mental illness. It says nothing of the last 10 years struggle with his health. The middle of the night calls from a doctor in a San Diego hospital wanting consent to perform a procedure, but the doctor could not tell my why my brother needed it or why my brother couldn't give consent himself. The issues in the last few years caused by his alcoholism. There were times I didn't like him or what he was doing with his life, but I always loved him. 4 lines doesn't seem enough to sum up any one's life, but then again in a life with more failure than success maybe it was enough. *edited to correct grammar*

I started seeing a resurgence in beards when a couple TV shows had characters that prominently feature actors with beards. Duck Dynasty was one, but Sons of Anarchy is the other. I see a lot more bikers with the long scraggly beards now than I did 5 years ago.

In the early morning, the curtain rises for the dawn choir, yet all is still. No one is there to greet the sun. The gulls have fled to warmer spots; The crickets sleep, in cozy burrows, under snowy blankets. Sunbeams creep quietly over the lake. Climbing to the top of an icy hill, the light pauses to dance a lively jig, sparkling on the icy dune. A hop, a leap to the next dune begins the dance anew. Frigid water flows slowly beneath the frozen surface. Dunes push each other, until…

Happy Birthday

Thanks to all who've expressed sympathy. I know time will change this, just got to get through it.

My brother died this morning after a two week battle with the complications from flu. I've lost others before, both my parents, a couple close friends even a coworker. So I thought I knew what to expect from grief. Only I have this overwhelming sense of rage. At my brother whose drinking weakened his body so much that it couldn't fight off the flu. At his medical proxy and caretaker, both family members, who waited to get him to a doctor. At my sister who wasn't ready to let him go last week and put him through more pain and suffering. At having to make the choice to stop life support... I know how to handle the sadness and pain, but I have no idea what to do with the rage....

I saw this tonight and wanted to share: http://blogs.psychcentral.com/chronic-pain/2013/05/the-spoon-theory/#more-125

I have debated about joining in. I was attending Penn State at the campus this stuff happened, during some of it. Paterno was not the only authority figure athletes informed about the abuse/molestation/rape. Some of my neighbors were football players and they told me they had attempted to speak to the Dean of the university, Bryce Jordan. My point is that there were many who knew and did not go to the authorities, including other coaches, the Dean and football players. Paterno was made the scape goat for some reason. I personally would love to see sanctions brought against the dean.

Happy Birthday Bleu

Thank you. Glad you understood the Raid comment, the story isn't the same without it.

I really like this story and hope you continue soon. I wonder how much Jake will live up to James' image and how James will handle it if his brother is different.

Normal is just a setting on my clothes dryer.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday

Some people just can't face another day of the same things. Thanks for leaving a comment.

Thank you for the review, and the help polishing it.

I think that is the worst part of a suicide. The guilt and helplessness of those left behind. I should have known. I should have seen. I should have done something else. When there may not have been anything anyone could have done. Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment.

Happy Birthday

With howling winds and rain in icy sheets, Nature mourns what is to come. Dropping temperatures preserve her tears: giant icicles hang from branches, droop from eaves. The sun peeks over the horizon, the wind dies down, all is silent. Sun light glistens on frozen trees, dances across ice wrapped bushes. Inside, unaware of the frozen beauty, he makes his plans. Writes a letter, loads his guns, no need to pack this trip. A front door slamming shatters the morning calm;

Winter can be cruel. For those who take a moment, there is beauty too...

Short but powerful essay on the intolerance of difference. Very reminiscent of "The Rest of the Story." Despite a degree in computers I was only vaguely aware of Turing, from high school world history, but not his contribution to computets or that he was gay. Thank you.

happy birthday