Diary Entry from May 16, 1998


2020MarDiary5 16aI decided to clean out my filing cabinet during this Corona virus time and found an old tablet diary in my handwriting from back in May 14, 1998.  I typed the entries into the computer.  Some of them I’m sharing, after editing…here’s the first one:

I sit in the love seat alone, stretched out, reading a book and watching TV in between commercials.  My dog jumps up and visits with me or lies by my side.  My parakeet flies over and visits, too, chasing the dog off of the couch.  My husband sits in the easy chair next to me, shuffling papers, reading the Bible.

The gas fireplace burns brightly and the dog lies in front of it now and then.  He yawns, sees me watching him, and comes to visit.  The bird flies over, the dog leaves, the bird leaves, the husband shuffles papers. A continuous pleasantness.  Quiet love rules at this present pleasant moment.

Poet in the Guard Shack

My younger sister works as a security guard and when Christmas is over, it gets very boring, so to perk her up I asked her to write about it in poetry.  Here they are…

Sitting in My Little Guard Hut

Sitting in my little guard hut,

Hardly anyone coming or going, but

My mind wanders to and fro:

Grocery lists, to do lists, time passes so slow.

The gate opens, “Oh! Some excitement now,”

but men are just working, so I crinkle my brow

and concentrate on writing this poem

to pass the time until I go home. (sigh)


Power Outage

We have a power outage today.

So, no heat in my guard hut and I may

freeze to death from the inclement weather.

I wished for double socks and an additional sweater.

But I’m stuck here and therefore I must make do

so I ordered from Doordash (they bring food to you).

Two cups of hot tea arrived after awhile.

My hands on the hot cups thawed me out and I smiled.

I just might survive today without getting sick.

I’ll know tomorrow if the hot tea did the trick.

A Last Fling


My mother was an exciting woman.  Survived the Great Depression and WWII in Missouri.  Roamed the desert in Phoenix, Arizona with her horse and dog in her early twenties. Worked for Western Union.  Joined the Navy for four years and served as a radioman in the 1950’s.  Married.  Had three girls.  Helped Dad through chiropractic college.  Moved with him until ending up in San Diego.  Girls grew up.  She and Dad retired, sold everything to buy a 5th-wheel trailer, a dual-wheel, 4-door truck and traveled the states for eighteen years.  Over beautiful places they rode hot air balloons, helicopters and bi-planes, and rode on swamp boats, air boats, all-terrain vehicles through unusual places, and went white-river rafting even in their seventies.  The hardest adventure for them was to learn how to deal with Mom’s Alzheimer’s and paranoia, broken hip, and other aging illnesses.  Mom’s greatest adventure is one we’ll not hear the story of until it’s our turn: passing through the portals of death on the soon to be sunny, hot morning of June 7, at about 5:00, at the age of 87 (or 39, whichever).