A Cup of Caring We notice what we notice, and too often, we focus on not noticing. The painful things we ignore or suppress. We hide pain and forget joy. Pain, like joy, is all around us. I search for joy. I am not saying that I don't see pain; I do. But most pain is out of our control. Joy is always in our control; We just need to see it. I saw it this morning. I was early for our Tuesday morning coffee club. While I waited for friends to arrive, I had time to write, think, and get a glimpse of pure joy.   There in front of me is a young man who is a caregiver to an old man who is noticeably mentally challenged. Every Tuesday they sit at the same booth by the window. I had seen them there before but today would be different. I was seeing them for the first time with my heart, instead of just my eyes. The old man is drinking coffee and eating a muffin. The young man looks at his cell phone between lulls in conversation.  They both take turns looking out the w...

I do not walk in shadows but beside shadows cast by those who have left room for me to do so. There is no proof of their existence (present day) but their light, I carry with me. My face is warmed by the glow of the sun but also warmed from within, with memories and together we cast the shadows. By the grace of God, illuminated by the sun. My pics: Seacliffe Park. Leamington, On, Canada. 

            Wednesday May 27/2026 Todays golf game wasn't the best but the company like always was good. It was a hot afternoon but now freshly showered, I am enjoying a cool evening breeze on my front porch. The sun is hidden from the view only to stretch shadows across lush green grass. In front of me is a huge red maple. Leaves are rustling and are turned up looking for moisture.  The Robin's nest that was visible just a week ago is now barricaded in a splendor of red and green. I can hear birds chirping. Sparrows and Robbins compete for my attention. I like to presume that is the case. In the far distance I can hear a red winged black bird.  The other day a hummingbird stopped by and hovered above our Rose of Sharon. I wondered if it was the same one from last year. I have waited for his return. And the return of my morning routine of writing and looking out my window seeing my little winged friend dancing from one blossom to the n...

It was a night of bar hopping. I had a few fuzzy navels in me and a little liquid courage. I had been trying to get the courage to ask this girl out all night, I will name her Becky. My attempt at being macho had backfired. She knew who I was and I knew I wasn't fooling anyone. I could have used a better pick up line. There was a guy she liked who wasn't wearing five pleated le Chatueu pants and a short collared Alexander Julian button down shirt. No, he was rugged and void of anything that could called  style. He was a white tee shirt and jeans grease ball.  "Hey Becky! Why don't you get rid of Tony Danza so we make some music together!" This was not my best pick up line. I was never good at pick up lines. To be totally truthful I have always been intimidated by pretty people. It didn’t matter if they were male or female. In my mind I was an average guy with an above average phobia of pretty people. Tony Danza was not real Tony Danza, he just looked like him. And...

  The Do, Do Dodo I was sitting at my usual table at the café. I had my blog page open on my cell phone to collect thoughts. Thoughts always turn into stories, and I wanted to be ready when the juices flowed. What would be the flavor of the day? I am not referring to coffee here but in case you needed to know; large drip, two creams. The flavor I am looking for is a story. I often have a thought that wakes me up in the morning. A quick short sentence or a daily mantra. Sometimes I must write about another crazy dream I had the night before. Today I was looking at a blinking cursor. I had nothing. Eventually, a young couple walked in with a small child in a stroller. They looked up at the menu for awhile and were ready to order. The girl told the barista that she’d like to “do” a macchiato. The guy said he’d do a drip. I suddenly knew what the flavor of the day ways going to be, it wasn’t a flavor, more like a rant. This wasn’t the first time I heard beverages orde...

I am a late blooming baby boomer. That just means I didn't get busy until I almost couldn't get busy.  What a weird name. Baby boomers. What if one day we died of natural causes: Exploding. Just random people walking down street. Exploding. Zombies you can outrun but that overweight bald guy walking beside you. A ticking time bomb.  Nothing but booming boomers everywhere. No mask is going to save you. Better pack a slicker. The hell with the weather, you got bigger unnatural, natural disasters waiting for you. And walking down the street is no walk in the park.   Hey look! there's my old pal George. You shake George's hand and boom , he explodes. The only thing left of George is in your hand, his hand. Texting while driving suddenly doesn't seem like a big deal. Waiting at a red light, is a bigger deal. Especially, if the windows are down. The punk with the boom box that's sounds like he's trapped someone in his trunk is tolerable. That old lad...