Author: energywriter

I giggle at the least provocation and love to pass my warped sense of humor to anyone who will listen or read. My favorite activities are my individual play dates with my five great-grandsons. No, I'm not THAT old. My family just has a tradition of marrying at five years old. Seriously, I am retired from the State of Wisconsin where my favorite job was as an outreach coordinator for aviation/space education. I've been a reporter for two newspapers, a copy editor for an international agricultural program, and been published in several regional magazines. My degree is in Professional Communication from Alverno College in Milwaukee, Wis. While they didn't promote humor writing, the instructors fostered an atmosphere of looking at the world through a lens that would allow us to explore what was being said beneath the obvious.

Gratitude on Memorial Day

by energywriter, posted in Thoughts to Ponder

“Patriotism is merely a religion – love of country, worship of country, devotion to the country’s flag, honor and welfare.”
Samuel Clemens (Mark Twin)

Message

A grateful thank you to all men and women who have served our country in times of war and peace is due every single day, not just on Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day. We must also extend gratitude to those who waited at home for their loved ones to return, hopefully the same strong young men and women who left to defend their country or protect another country’s right to exist. Honor all those who have answered their nation’s call, in whatever way that they could: Victory Gardens, assisting their neighbors, prayers for safety.

At the same time I yearn for the day we no longer hear those calls. Are we humans capable of living in peace? I think of songs we sing in church and contemplate their confusing messages: “Onward Christian Soldiers” and “I Ain’t Going to Study War No More.”

All religions teach peace. Often we greet each other by bowing and saying “Namaste,” or “The sacred in me greets the sacred in you.” Even shaking hands indicates that our hands hold no weapons. These behaviors are ingrained into our daily lives, yet we forget or disregard the meaning behind them. Is this dichotomy the reason so many of our returning veterans are committing suicide? We send them to war. The next day they are at home and expected to act like the horror never happened. We can’t forget violence in 24 hours.

Meditation

Spirit,
Mixed messages about peace and war assault us on all sides. On one hand we talk about war to impose peace. On the other we see the damage war has caused to the minds and hearts of all involved. Our holy books teach us peace. We ask that you implant a stronger desire for peace than we have for dissention.
And, so it is.

If you know someone who would appreciate reading “Thoughts to Ponder,” please suggest that he or she contact me at: energywriter@cox.net

Sharon D. Dillon, energywriter@cox.net, http://energywriter.me
Chesapeake Bay Writers, Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop, Southern Humorists, National Society of Newspaper Columnists
Author of one of 14 stories in The Book of Mom: Reflections of Motherhood with Love, Hope and Faith, published by booksyoucantrust.com. Available in print and e-format at Amazon.com

Contents may be forwarded, but please give credit where credit is due and erase all email addresses on original message.

Sagging IQ and other drooping body parts

by energywriter, posted in Humor

Only a few weeks remain until the “mandatory” 50th high school class reunion. Mandatory does not refer just to attendance, no matter where you live, but you must also compete for the most successful, most beautiful, most hunky, most prestigious degree, and who can still Twist and Rock Around the Clock.

Grandchildren and great-grandchildren are discussed in whispers. Even though we’re all 68, we are not “old enough” to have such people in our lives. Some of us play tennis, golf and pickle ball, or say we do. The guys talk about their football heroics, not mentioning this is on the Fantasy League.

I can’t speak for everyone, but my mental acuity has slipped just a bit. From being above average, I now have to stop, think and hope I find the word I’m looking for so I can sound as intelligent as my much younger supervisors. Like many others my age, I’m retired but still working.

A few days of ago several of us had a farewell party for a coworker. When the bill came it had basic charges at the top, several paragraphs of text that no one read, then way at the bottom was the suggested tip and signature line.

Because of the huge gap between meal details and the tip/total section I became confused. Luckily, my twenty-something supervisor was sitting next to me and helped me decipher the receipt. I told her, “Don’t tell my boss I can’t read. She might fire me.” She assured me that as long as I can count change, I’ll still have a job. I signed the receipt, stuffed the credit card into my wallet and handed the folder back to the wait staff.

Soon another bill was presented to me, for the same items. I began to wonder what was going on. My supervisor looked at the bill, compared it to my credit card and assured me it was mine. Looking in my wallet I realized I had an extra credit card. I passed it down the table and went through the payment procedure again. This time I remembered how the system worked. Whew!!

Now that I’ve covered my still superior IQ, I want to talk about the “still beautiful” part. Not to brag, but I need full head-to-toe Spanx with old-fashioned rubber girdle reinforcement. By the time I get all the body parts to stop jiggling and drooping, I’ll have enough body armor to compete in the local police terrorism training. Actually, I’m willing to bet I could compete at any of the military installations in this area.

Can you imagine those young service members’ faces as this old woman wrapped in Spanx and rubber girdles walks through a hail of bullets, calling out “I’m rubber. You’re glue. What you shoot at me will bounce back and stick on you.” Meanwhile, they will be in full body armor, ducking and firing from protected positions.

My hair can look young again with the help of my local salon professional. She can wax my brows and upper lip and tint my hair to its former, glorious coppery strands. She can add “fillers” and extensions to make my hair look as thick as it was many years ago. I’m counting on her to weave so tightly that all my sagging facial parts are back in their 18-year-old position.

Guys, you might not get this, but any woman of our generation will know exactly what I’m saying. Our mothers braided our hair so tightly we thought our eye lashes grew from our brow line and our eyelids reached almost to our ears.

See, just a few minor touch-ups and I’ll be 18 again.

© by Sharon D. Dillon, May 25, 2014

Start where you are

by energywriter, posted in Thoughts to Ponder

May 14, 2014

“The long and the short of it goes something like this . . .
When one stops looking for the quick and easy way,
and just deals the what’s on their plate,
the quick and easy way soon finds them. . . .
Actually, what could be quicker than beginning
with where you are, or easier than starting
with what you’ve got?”
TUT, a note from the Universe

Message

Wow! Those words put us on the spot, don’t they? The author is saying, “No more excuses.” How many of us are saying, at this very moment, “I’ll follow my dream – when I have more time, money, energy, clean socks and have memorized the dictionary. Or, “I’ll go to the beach after I retire.”

This procrastination also applies to ordinary daily tasks, “I’ll do the dishes after I check email.” “I’ll go for a walk after I finish the laundry.” How about walking while the washing machine is doing its work? There are so many ways we use excuses to delay living life to the fullest. Yet, we know that if we just do it, the task is smaller and time goes faster than we thought.

The TUT quote says to begin with where we are, wherever that is. Barbara Brown Taylor carries that thought further, “If you are in the dark, it does not mean that you have failed and that you have taken some terrible misstep. For many years I thought my questions and my doubt and my sense of God’s absence were all signs of my lack of faith, but now I know this is the way the life of the spirit goes.”*

*TIME magazine, April 28, 2014

Meditation

Spirit,
Thank you for these messages that keep popping into our awareness, just when we need them most. Often they come from surprising sources. Please open our hearts and minds to absorb the messages that can lead us to a better life. We can’t always know where or what that better life is. We ask that you give us the courage to follow the prompting, whether it is a big neon sign or a barely audible whisper in our ears. And, so it is.

If you know someone who would appreciate reading “Thoughts to Ponder,” please suggest that he or she contact me at: energywriter@cox.net

Sharon D. Dillon, energywriter@cox.net, http://energywriter.me
Chesapeake Bay Writers, Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop, Southern Humorists, National Society of Newspaper Columnists
Author of one of 14 stories in The Book of Mom: Reflections of Motherhood with Love, Hope and Faith, published by booksyoucantrust.com. Available in print and e-format at Amazon.com

Contents may be forwarded, but please give credit where credit is due and erase all email addresses on original message.

Granny and Technology

by energywriter, posted in Humor

Granny’s journey with technology is long, but far from straight, path; specifically the technology used to create this blog.
She is so old that she remembers being excited about a new invention – the electric typewriter. When they added a correction option she was ecstatic.

After a few years Granny was assigned a desktop computer connected to a main frame in another city. All she could do with this machine was to check if a client’s unemployment check had been paid. Paper and telephones comprised all other communications.

Then along came Word Perfect and Harvard Graphics with 3.5 inch disks replacing 5 inch disks. Granny was in typing heaven. Not only could she correct, but she could attach a picture or a graph to her reports then merge them with a list of names and addresses. A friend suggested that Granny could type faster backward than forward. Possibly, but all the retyping gave her an opportunity to do some editing.

Having an IT professional hidden in a tiny basement office gave her the courage to try new things. She knew that if she made any mistake smaller than blowing up the office, the IT guru would rescue her. Then along came Macs, MS Word, burning cds and storing War and Peace on a single thumb drive. Wow! The old lady was floating on air.

After years of growing and learning and doing more fun things with a computer/laptop, she ran into a roadblock — a big one with those cement blocks used to redirect traffic during construction. She expected a steep learning curve when she bought a laptop loaded with Windows 8. What she didn’t expect was that the learning curve wound its way up Mount Everest and when she reached the top she’d just fall off.

Being a cautious consumer she also purchased a copy of Windows 8 for Dummies. That little yellow book showed her how to do some basic word processing and do some things that were not on her wish list. Feeling frustrated, Granny signed up for two Windows 8 classes. There she learned a few more ways to work with the new program.

Then voodoo struck her laptop. It could run basic programs, but attempting to do anything related to the internet was like choosing by eenie-meenie several times an hour. After a few minutes working with email or the internet the wireless connection would shut down. Granny took her laptop to the repair shop twice to no result. She tried a different shop who suggested she call her internet provider. After working with two different IT professionals she learned a trick to keep working and sending messages, though not to its maximum capability. Each time the wireless connection failed, she could restart the laptop and continue her project. This was a nuisance, but it got the job done.

She still faces a problem that no one seems to know how to correct. How does Granny keep the wireless connection working all the time? Does it take gold, diamonds or just a serious threat?

© by Sharon Dillon, May 12, 2014

Thoughts to Ponder – May 7, 2014

by energywriter, posted in Thoughts to Ponder

“Here is God’s purpose –
for God to me, it seems,
is a verb not a noun,
proper or improper.”
R. Buckminster Fuller

Message

Why are we here? What is our purpose? What is God’s purpose?

Fuller explains it so succinctly that I could stop right here. But, I won’t, and you know it. I believe, like Fuller, that God is a verb. God, may or may not be an entity. God is the way we act and speak. Are we kind to others – and ourselves? Then we are God. Every kindness done with a glad heart is God.

Oprah Winfrey explains it like this, “. . . The energy you create and release into the world will be reciprocated on all levels. Our main job is to align with the energy that is the Source of all energies, and to keep our frequency tuned to the energy of love. . . ” (O, the Oprah Magazine, November 2013, pg. 172)

In other words, what goes around, comes around. We experience what we put out in the world. Have you noticed that when you smile, other people smile at you? When you frown, others frown at you? What an easy concept to understand and practice.

Many of us will say, “What about all the horrible things that happen in the world?” The same concept applies here. “. . . The energy you create and release into the world will be reciprocated on all levels.” These people are not tuned to the frequency of love, so they do not experience love coming to them.

The decision is ours. We can choose our path; peace, love and joy or not.

Meditation

Spirit,
Thank you for teaching us that God is a verb, rather than a noun. That reminds us to act and speak in a way that we think a Higher Power would. And, so it is.

If you know someone who would appreciate reading “Thoughts to Ponder,” please suggest that he or she contact me at: energywriter@cox.net

Sharon D. Dillon, energywriter@cox.net ; http://energywriter.me
Chesapeake Bay Writers, Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop, Southern Humorists, National Society of Newspaper Columnists
Author of one of 14 stories in The Book of Mom: Reflections of Motherhood with Love, Hope and Faith, published by booksyoucantrust.com. Available in print and e-format at Amazon.com

Contents may be forwarded, but please give credit where credit is due and erase all email addresses on original message.

Updated energywriter site

by energywriter, posted in Home

Hello,
Welcome to Laugh your way to peace, love and joy.

This is a brand-new site using Windows 8 and I’m a bit confused. I hope you’ll have patience with me while I learn how to operate this program.

My focus is on Humor, Thoughts to Ponder and Whimsy, which is whatever else I write. I plan to post Thoughts to Ponder each Wednesday. The others – well, when I get a good idea. I welcome all comments.

I’m Sharon Dillon and am seeking my path and a way to share that knowledge. My thoughts may not be yours, but I hope you’ll read my entries and comment. We could have some great conversations. I live in Virginia’s Historic Triangle and enjoy visiting all the great historic sites in the area. If I have questions there are many here who can answer them.

Sharon D. Dillon,
energywriter@cox.net
Chesapeake Bay Writers, Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop, Southern Humorists, National Society of Newspaper Columnists
Author of one of 14 stories in The Book of Mom: Reflections of Motherhood with Love, Hope and Faith, published by booksyoucantrust.com. Available in print and e-format at Amazon.com

Contents may be forwarded, but please give credit where credit is due and erase all email addresses on original message.

Nude Hiking??

by energywriter, posted in Whimsy

This is something I couldn’t resist writing after reading a local columnists take on the subject. It’s old, but I think, still funny.

Copyright by Sharon Dillon, May 6, 2009

 Recently the Daily Press printed a brief article about Germans hikers who have scandalized their Swiss neighbors by hiking the Alps wearing only backpacks and boots. This was followed by a lengthier piece, “Nude in the News,” by my favorite Daily Press columnist, Tony Gabriele.

Tony researched this practice and learned it is called freikorperkultur, literally translated as “free body culture” or more accurately “let it all hang out.” He advised readers to “invest in German sun block lotion companies.” Tony proceeded to reduce me to giggles discussing the history of nude warfare and potential political results of future attempts. However, he missed some vital complications to nude hiking.

While Tony mentioned the sun block issue, he did not address the problem that, for most of us, certain body parts have not been exposed to fresh air and sunshine since – well – ever. Oh, wait; my mother did explain the old-fashioned method for healing diaper rash.

Those of us whose ages are north of 50 have body parts that are not creeping, but rushing quickly, toward the Equator. But this is just a matter of pride. I want to talk about more serious problems. Shall I enumerate them?

  1. We live in an area where mosquitoes rule the world. So, do we invest in buckets of insect repellant or risk lumps on our rumps? If we go for the risk, how do we explain to our co-workers that we are scratching body parts that are not, shall we say, socially acceptable? If we choose the other route, other questions arise. Do sun-block and insect repellant work together? And, how can we feel confident greeting other hikers when we reek of “eau de yuck.”
  2. Ticks may cause another big problem. People who work outside tell us to wear our pants tucked into our socks to keep the miniscule critters from migrating to “warm” body areas.” Hmmm???? If we are letting it all hang out, what do we tuck in where? Once we’ve contracted Lyme disease, imagine our physician’s face when we bare the classic target rings.
  3. Lunch time? When out in the woods, most people tend to take their lunch breaks while sitting on fallen logs or tree stumps. What lives in fallen logs? Well, all sorts of tiny and not so tiny creatures. We are all familiar with the office-mate who is Johnny-on-the-spot whenever cookies cross the threshold. This person is a slow poke when compared to an ant looking for a picnic. Imagine the ant’s path as it climbs, by the shortest route to the crumbs on our chests.
  4. Weather is another issue. Do sweat bands work effectively when perspiration is rushing down our backs and fronts to puddle in our boots? Does that much moisture in our boots cause blisters? On the other hand, being from Wisconsin, I’ve known many serious winter campers. Weeeeelll, we all know what happens to our various appendages in cold weather. Not a proud site to greet another hiker. This could also lead to another trip to the doctor to explain a frost-bitten whatever.

On a balmy, late spring day before the mosquitoes buzz, this hobby sounds appealing. I might be tempted to join the fun. But two things stop me; I wouldn’t want a lump on my rump or a tick on — whatever.

Generations – a poem

by energywriter, posted in Humor

 

Life flows, from year to year.

Many generations, come and go.

How many? I don’t know.

I, remember, seven.

Great-grandmother, a wise woman;

Dressed in the old style;

From Civil War, to men in space

She was content, with few smiles.

Grandfather, a victim of life’s ills,

Especially, winter chills.

Even lightning strikes, and WPA

Formed his rocky pathway.

Parents survived the Depression

and World War Two.

That heavy load, could only,

Lead to stern, determination

Turmoil, and Vietnam, were

Softened, by my three.

Tiny smiles erase harsh news.

Time to wash, who do I choose?

One, gave me two, who

brought perspective anew.

Life is about loving,

not crying and enduring.

They gave me three

Boys! – Can you believe it? – All boys!

Do I have, to learn sports?

Or how, to climb a tree?

As life comes, it also leaves.

Now the oldest, of four generations,

Some say, I’m matriarch.

What does, that mean?

Am I now, wise, kind, loving?

I can trust, only The One Source,

And those, who went, before;

To teach me, all I need to know.

© by Sharon Dillon, August 25, 2010

The plant bandit

by energywriter, posted in Humor

Recently I read an article about a man who robbed two banks in the New York area by carrying his “give me your money” note in a bouquet and a potted plant, respectively. This news led me to begin thinking about what might happen if this should become a fad.

Short robbers could disguise themselves in a hydrangea bush. Taller thieves might try crape myrtle or wisteria camouflage. Bad guys from the south would look like trees covered with kudzu.

“Hey, Y’all give me yore money. Don’t make me pull mah gun. Aw, fergit it. The kudzu ate mah gun.”

Why stop there? This could become a marketing tool similar to the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile and delivery cars with  giant dominoes on top. But let’s think vegetation.

Perhaps Asian food could be delivered by a leek driving a car disguised as a stand of bamboo. A mobile jalapeño driven by an agave plant (worm is optional) or a cilantro plant might deliver Mexican food. Italian food possibly could be delivered by a bundle of basil, oregano and wheat.

A bunch of wine grapes would, of course, present our French food. German food could be offered by a basket of hops or cabbages. The Irish might deliver their food via potato or corned beef spices.

One drawback might be that most of us would need to take a botany course to be able to identify what food was coming our way.

“Officer, the runaway car was a leek. No, I think it was a wheat or maybe bamboo. Oh gosh, I don’t know. It was green.”

Another potential problem would be that no one in my acquaintance speaks plant. Most of us talk to plants but we do it in our usual language, whatever that is. So how would we communicate with these plants? Would they be bilingual and speak the local dialect as well as plant? Imagine a cross-botanical delivery.

“Amigo, mi nombre es Cil Antro. Here’s your tacos, no jalapeños.”

“What’d you say? Come ag’in and speak plain Tater.”

Just some potential scenarios to keep you awake at night – or haunt your dreams.

 © Sharon Dillon, August 9, 2010

I am not alone

by energywriter, posted in Whimsy

 Since my mother passed several people have asked if my siblings helped take care of her and make funeral arrangements. When they discovered I am an only child they look shocked and say, “You went through all that alone! I’m so sorry!”

While I know these comments are offered in love, I have no idea how to respond. I was not and am not alone. Although my parents were supportive, some things were mine to handle. I learned early how to entertain myself and handle difficult situations.

One advantage of being an only child was that I had no “discussions” with siblings about what Mom would want. She rejected delaying actions such as surgery and chemotherapy. She had a living will and a prepaid funeral and burial. Her wishes were clear.

Family and good friends called or texted me frequently during the two months I was many miles from home. They offered love as well as advice and care packages that brightened those weeks. A special Mother’s Day gift was a video my daughters made of mom’s great-great grandsons.

Other visiting friends provided laughs and comfort. My best friend from our school years still lived in the area. She listened to my woes and shared what she had learned when her dear ones passed.

During the last couple weeks at her apartment three cousins and a volunteer sat with Mom while I went shopping or did laundry. Her neighbors visited and did small favors to make Mom’s last days easier. This support gave me the opportunity to do what needed to be done. My home meditation group supported us through prayers and assurances that life on the other side will be wonderful. Two pastors answered questions about the afterlife. Mom listened while I humbly offered my beliefs about that subject. It seemed to comfort her.

I can never express enough gratitude for the fantastic Hospice staff both at Mom’s apartment and at Hospice House. They listened to my worries and offered comfort as they provided optimal care for Mom. When she breathed her last Earthly breath, they were there with hugs and kind words. They and the funeral directors took care of all the details. All I had to do was to notify family and sort Mom’s belongings, a daunting task.

My school friend went along to make final arrangements. On Memorial Day she made sure I was busy and entertained. Other friends and cousins provided their loving presence and delicious food. My children drove several hundred miles to attend the visitation and funeral. They helped sort Mom’s belongings and gave lots of hugs.

The morning following the funeral my daughters and son-in-law left with the mementos they had selected. The next morning my son left with his car full of chosen items.

Then I felt alone. I couldn’t wait to leave that tiny, empty apartment and be home. The apartment complex manager agreed to handle what was left.

The next morning I hopped into my overstuffed car and headed home. Once here I was able to relax and enjoy hugs from my family and friends. I feel sad that my mother is no longer with us, but I am too surrounded by love to ever feel alone.

 © by Sharon Dillon, August 1, 2010