Cleaning out and organizing my Creative Writing binder I came across the following original third line of my "Prayer" piece.
"I would that we had a new Australia where the world could exile the radicals from every color of the religious spectrum, where they could enjoy their hatreds and leave the rest of the world in peace, with respect for one another."
This is a bit cumbersome so you got the shortened version in my recent post.

Here are my contributions to our Creative Writing presentation at Gilda's Club on October 10, 2012.

Medical procedure authorizations

Everything under the sun MIGHT happen.

Be aware.

Fret not nor worry.

Hope for the best.

Cross no bridges before you get to them.

Deal with issues as they arise.

-------

May our elected officials abandon their extreme partisanship and start solving our country’s problems.

May our children and grandchildren have a better life than we.

May the world’s religious radicals shut up

And leave the rest of the world at peace with respect for one another.

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I frequently find myself gritting my teeth and/or yelling profanities at the gross abuse of English grammar on television.  It is as if my language professor father had super-glued the response onto my inner being.  Inevitably such episodes remind me of Fibber McGee’s friend:  “It is I, Digby O’Dell, your friendly undertaker.”

The verb “to be” is followed by the nominative case.

The verb “to be” is followed by the nominative case.

The verb “to be” is followed by the nominative case.

The verb “to be” is followed by the nominative case.

------….

It is important that you share your thoughts and feelings with your partner.  Neither of you is a mind reader so you must speak your hopes, your dreams, your plans, your fears, your complaints, and your praises.

As important as speaking is, listening is even more important. Really listen!  Don’t just remain silent, hoping that she will end this tirade so your can watch the game that has already started.  Listen, even when no words are spoken.

Farming Mentality

Mulling over my childhood memories looking for blog material I came across these two goodies.  Both are from the time that I was seven or eight and Jerry was five or six.

The back yard of our house in Riverside was rather large.  Our father wanted to plant a vegetable garden.  In the way of that activity was a large patch of burr clover, reaching from one side of the yard to the other.  Jerry and I were charged with removing the patch.  This we did by rolling it up like a carpet, pulling up individual roots as they appeared.  The subsequent garden provided vegetables for many dinners.

One Easter Jerry and I received a baby duckling.  That Thanksgiving we had roast duck for dinner.  I am not sure how I did not come to hate life on the farm after that.

Reading Our "Poetry".

The highlight of the most recent creative writing series was the opportunity for each classmate to read several of their works to an audience.  The venue was a luncheon gathering in Gilda’s Club’s main hall.  Attendees were folks who had earlier that day participated in a number of cancer support groups.

Here are my contributions to that event:

                        Love

Meals prepared and shared

Dishes washed

Trash taken out

Beds made

Dogs fed

Hands held walking to the movies

Love is often shown in ordinary ways.

Rising in time for a 7:30 AM departure to the hospital

Sitting beside my bed in pre-op for six hours

Waiting another hour for surgery to complete

Driving home from Loma Linda to Thousand Palms in rush-hour traffic

Love is sometimes shown in extraordinary ways.

            My Latin Wife

Loving Latin wife,

Evelyn showers love on

family and pets.

My Puerto Rican Mama

is the best thing in my life.

Note that, except for the instructor, Ted, I was the only male in the class.  From my perspective the ladies were much more creative than I.  It was a privilege to participate with them.

Bob's Dream (or Nightmare)

It has been a long time since I last posted to this blog. I had run out of inspiration for new posts. Gilda’s Club offered a series of creative writing classes. Hoping to find inspiration I signed up for two of the sessions. We studied right-brain and left-brain functions. We were exposed to word clusters, Chakra, and all forms of Japanese and English poetry. (That is all kinds except the rhyming kind.) I did not find inspiration to continue this blog in the original vein, but I did come up with some material from my homework assignments. I shall share some of them here from time to time.
One assignment was to go through a Chakra meditation sequence, expecting to stimulate a dream. Thus, “Bob’s Dream (or Nightmare)”

Bob’s Dream (or Nightmare)

The dogs are barking.
Someone is at the door.
Lots of people,
some with cameras,
some with balloons,
some with flowers,
Dave Sayers
with Publishers Clearing House
with a big check
for $5000
a week
for life.
Find Food Bank
Mexican convent
Six kids
Taxes
My accountant died
What now?

More later,

Bob

ps: Evelyn, my Puerto Rican Mama, has a web site, www.eviesbabies.com , where she is selling some of her handcrafted rag dolls.