Once again, not deliberately anyone…


Sorry I haven’t been around to post, or check out the latest on all of your blogs, my WordPress friends.

I’m going through a rough time right now and just haven’t felt up to blogging.  I will be back when I can.

Hugs for all!


To the atheist tone police: stop telling me how to discuss my abuse


An excellent piece by someone who has greatly suffered at the hands of those loving religious folks.  If you want to see my reaction to it, scroll down to the comments (after reading, of course! ☺) and look for my reply.  (Hint, same username… Wordsgood. 😄)

Commenting Policy

​Comments are always welcome.

That said, please note that I moderate all comments and reserve the right to not approve any I find offensive or that appear to be spam. Also, there may will be times I am unable to attend to this site for several days, weeks or even months, but I will return when I can.  At which point I will moderate all waiting comments, as well as post and reply to all legitimate comments.

I will not tolerate bigotry, racism, sexism, misogyny or any anti-LGBT+ rhetoric, anti-military (from or directed at any of our Western allies.  If you want to show off your your personal prejudice and hatred, please to it elsewhere and not on my blog.

Thank you for stopping by. Hope you are having a great day! ☺

Postage Stamp: Poem by William Hart-Smith

Not my usual kind of re-blog or post. But it was too good to pass on. From Barbara Pyett’s blog. Enjoy. 🙂

Barbara Pyett

On Canberra busses in the 90s they had poems displayed, maybe they still do. It really made the journey so enjoyable. One poem I remember was called ‘Postage Stamp’, written by William Hart-Smith. This poem is such good advice for someone going through a separation.

If you should ever have to part from someone dear,
tear yourself away.
Be sure the tear is where the perforations are.
Please, please do not ever recklessly sever,
shear yourself from some one other
so that their stamp is torn
and you have part of their living,
bleeding flesh at your side worn.

From Selected Poems 1936-84 Angus and Robertson


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Trouble in Threes

So a couple days after my last post about sick furballs and stress, it would seem the third member of our elderly furry trio, was feeling a bit left out.  I swear, this time he managed this out of sheer jealousy at all the money not spent on him!

Aries, the rotund, bratty middle child who was doing just fine, waddles up to me one morning a few days after my last post about the other two, and stares at me.  Two inches from my face with his big eyes wide open.  Sort of.

His right eye is a little weepy, but nothing too odd.  No icky goo leaking out, it’s just a bit damp.  No biggie, he could have just irritated it with his paw or a dust bunny.  I reach up with a tissue and then I notice something odd.

The eyeball itself has morphed into a lizard type eyeball, while the left side is perfectly feline.  What the…???

Okay, he might be named after an ancient, mythical god of war – and like most gods, does have a petty, vindictive streak (no offense to my religiously inclined friends) – but as for being actually being physically tough and stoic…

Oh sure, he struts around the house all proud and manly.  And has the most ferocious sounding fights with the neighbour cat…with the glass door firmly closed between them.  The hiding from loud noises?  That’s just him performing tactical retreats to plot his next move.  Tormenting his furry siblings…all in good fun.

And he has dealt with some very traumatic injuries.  After all, there was that time a couple of years ago when I visciously mangled a front paw pad while trimming his nails.  It only took bright daylight and a flashlight to reveal the deep gash I had cut into him when he wiggled.  Why it broke at least one layer of skin, possibly even two!  And it was a long cut too…3 to 4 millimeters!  The only reason it didn’t bleed – not even a single drop – was through a sheer force of will on his part.

Obviously, I was never forgiven for this heinous crime, so off we go to the groomers every 4 to 6 weeks now.

But I digress.

Now that we’ve established what brave and ferocious warrior Aries Cat is, imagine my alarm upon realizing that he was now transforming into an entirely different species!  Or at least has one eyeball looking distinctly un-cat like.

And not a whimper out of him.  That should have been my first, no, make that second clue.  The first had been the night before when he was exceptionally needy and cranky all at the same time.  Even for him. Sigh.

Several phone calls to the vet’s office and 24 hours later, we’re back in there with Lizard Cat in tow.  See, cats have this 3rd inner eyelid that normally only comes out and stays out, in response to illness, injury or the trauma (to the body) of being treated for one or the other.  This condition is called Horner’s Syndrome.  Yeah, I didn’t know about this one either.  And my pets have a long history of developing uncommon health issues.

But the good doctor could find no evidence of injury or illness, was very stumped, knew we had just spent a fortune for the other two.  She didn’t want to order tests because if her suspicion about it being Horner’s was right; there being no actual test and the treatment, if needed, being the same in most cases.

Off we went with instructions of what to watch for.  Still worried and sucking up apologizing for the kennel, car ride, thermometer in the butt and manhandling by strangers, we worshipped him even more than usual for the next couple days.

He lapped it up like a sponge and about two days later, suddenly started acting as though the eye hurt.  There was no sign of physical distress whatsoever until then.  Aries is always very clear when he feels any level of pain or discomfort.  But this time we’re not sure as the pain seems to come and go…depending on the audience factor.

Sigh, more call’s to the vet.  She is just as puzzled as I rattle off anything that night possibly, even by the most tenuous of threads, be related.  Finally, at my request, she prescribes non-steroidal, anti-imflammatory drops that won’t hurt him, but will help if he’s actually in pain.  A week and $200 later, his lordship’s eye returned to normal.

We still don’t know if it actually was Horner’s Syndrome, or a boo boo.  But I would not be at all surprised to find out it was self-inflicted.


Oh, on the upside, they gave him a complimentary toe clipping.  Ha!  Bet that wasn’t part of his plan!

March 21, 2014: Technical Difficulties

Hi.  I changed my theme and for reasons I can’t explain, not all of my newly revamped links are showing up when you click some of the menu choices in both custom menus.  If you happen to be looking for a specific post, please just dig through, they are all still there.  When I can find the energy at some point in the next few days I will attempt to fix the problem.  Even if it means having to return to a previous, letter visually pleasing theme.


15 Book Spoilers In One Sentence

For fellow book lovers. But be warned, if you hate Spoilers, don’t read this!

101 Books


You heard it here first. If you’re anti-spoiler, like my friend who got mad at me for ruining the ending to The Great Gatsby—nearly a century old—then you may hate this post.

If, on the other hand, you dive head first into the world of spoilers, then this post is just for you.

The catch here is that these spoilers are only one sentence long—so as not to give away great detail while helping you get the “essence” of the novel’s plot.

Also, these are mostly famous books, so hopefully you’ve read most of them anyway.

Let’s go.

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