I saw a blog the other day that made me think. The blog writer was wondering if alcoholism and/or drug abuse was a matter of will power. Everyone has opinions on this and everyone can have a differant opinion. I don't think that it is a matter of will power at all. I used to drink too much. Way too much. I would promise my son that I wouldn't EVER again and then I did. Something that I am not proud of at all. Except for once, I haven't had anything to drink since 1989. I can't. However, I do know this. There came a time in my drinking that I hated myself and what I had become. Was ashamed of myself.Couldn't stop at that time. It seems that ghosts of old memories would find me hiding in a bottle way too often. I finally ( with help) stopped and now I choose not to drink at all. To this day, I know good people, sensitive people that drink or take drugs. I don't think that anyone is proud of that. I think that they are caught in the claws of the monster and can't get loose. This may change the way that you feel about me. I hope not. Today, I am sober. Today. I started thinking about writers that drank. Writers whose lives were cut short by alcohol and drugs. ( mostly alcohol). I would almost bet that NONE of them wanted that. There was a study done in 1987 that stated that 60% of writers are/were alcoholic. 60%.. that's huge. The list includes Truman Capote, Hemingway, Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen Crane, Theodore Roethke, Jean Stafford, Herman Melville, F.Scott Fitzgerald, William Faulkner, Jack London, O'Henry, Zelda Fitzgerald, Sinclair Lewis, Dylan Thomas, John Steinbeck, and many more. People that had talent, people that had worth. Some of them committed suicide, one died in a fire in a insane asylym. All of thier lives cut short. Will power? I can't think of anyone that would CHOSE to die that way. Chose to live that way. My hope is this. When you meet a alcoholic or an addict, please don't judge them. Be thankful that you are not living in that Hell. Willpower? I really don't think so....

I was going to post about something else today but I am sooo happy. I am a millionaire 10 times over. Well, not really BUT if I counted up all the letters that I have recieved in the last week alone, I should be. In the space of one week ( yes, I counted) I have been the Lucky receipient of 34 letters from Nigeria, Sudan, and China. I didn't realize that I knew so many "His Honor's, Her Highness and Barons'".It is amazing that "I touched all their hearts and they want to leave me a rememberance". It is very, very simple. All that I have to do is send them MY FULL NAME, STREET ADDRESS, OCCUPATION, etc. Then they will contact me and I can send them the handeling fee. Of course, how inconsiderate of me not too. On a serious note, these people piss me off. I am aware that there are people that will do these things. Desperate people. Poor people. These crooks need to be lined up and shot. They prey on people that have lost hope. I usually send them a letter back stating " that when his highness and I had tea last year, he said that I would NEVER have to send anything for his money. Please send ASAP.". So far, I haven't heard back from them. There needs to be a way to make people aware of these scams. Have you won millions lately through this? I really am mad..

Have you ever caught a brief wisp of a smell going by on the wind? In your mind, just that smell will take you back to another time in your life. That happened to me yesterday. I was going on an errand south of town and had my car windows rolled down. Looking at the cattle and lambs, horse and ducks that live on most of the farms around here. I caught a fleeting smell of hay. No big deal, I was riding by farms. But this time, My mind took me back to the farm that my grandparents lived on. This was a farm in Iowa. My Sioux Grandmother and grandfather farmed 80 acres. They didn't own the farm, they rented it. They were very poor. As I started getting older, I would wonder how my grandpa could work so hard, knowing that he would never even own it. I would follow behind him, sitting on the combine seat with him, as he gathered hay, feed and milked the cows, tended to the hogs and worked himself to the bone. I would follow grandma as she gathered eggs, gathered herbs or went to help a " neighbor woman" have a baby. WE had no running water, no inside bathroom, nothing. Many nights, the cold Iowa winter wind would blow through the cracks in the house. Grandma would heat bricks, wrap them in flannel and put them at our feet in the bed. One of my most valued possesions is a bone china rolling pin. Years before I was born, the family on the neighboring farm all got "scarlet fever". My grandpa was the ONLY person that wasn't afraid to go help them. He would do all of thier chores and then come home and do his. That family lost two children to that illness but when the parents and the rest of the children recovered, they gave my grandpa that rolling pin to say thank you. I am the only person that I know that can wring a chickens neck, slaughter a hog, or drive a big combine. I don't DO any of those things But I could... I remember going to "town one day with my grandpa. He was desperately poor but needed a new tractor. All of these years later, I can remember the banker shaking my grandpa's hand when the deal was done. NO cash downpayment, no signature scrawled on a line, Just a handshake. His reputation for honesty served him well. The ROCK ISLAND LINE railroad would roll down the tracks just across the hiway from the farm. Several times a week a hobo would jump off and come to the farm hungry. Grandma would always invite them in and feed them. Feed them and make them feel welcome. Sometimes what the hobos ate would be our supper and we would eat corn mush instead. We never minded that. It was an honor to serve a "guest". Times were hard for them, and they died poor, but I will always remember what they taught me. Help others, work hard and be honest. They left me a fortune with just that knowledge. I miss them....

I was thinking this morning about women. When I was younger, I had few female friends. I got along better with men. I played poker, shot at traps, went fishing, all the things that men like to do. In the South women are expected to be "ladies, Southern Belles" and that certainly wasn't me. As I got a little older, I started looking at women, really looking. I started to need women friends. I started to appreciate the gentleness of women. The all encompassing hearts. I now know that I cauldn't live without women in my life and I appreciate the things that they have meant to me, when I didn't even realize it. My grandmother, silent and strong. She never told me that she loved me, but I know that she did. She showed me in so many ways. She taught me about herbs, and animals. Taught me how to read "signs" in the sky. Tried to teach me to be strong and able. My other grandmother was English. very refined. Very much a lady. Taught me how to set a "proper" table. Taught me the love of words and the wonder of discovery. My friend Sharon. Sharona or Nightingale to this blogsite. The one person that has NEVER betrayed me. Never would. Never could. MY sister of my heart, for many , many years. Women... welcome new life to the world and close the eyes of the ones that have left this world. Women.... the ones that always say, "I'm really not hungry" when there is one peice of chicken left. Women... Making food and giving hugs when visiting someone grief stricken or just hurting. The heart of a woman is a wonderful thing and I am so very grateful that I finally know that... really, really, know that..

Some of you may have already heard this but it bears thinking about.
One evening an old Indian warrior told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside all people. He said " My son, the battle is between the two wolves that are inside us all. One wolf is evil: It is anger, lies, superiority, ego and selfishness. The other wolf is good. It is joy, kindness, sharing, helping, peace." The grandson thought about this for a minute and then he asked, "which wolf wins"?
The old Indian simply replied "The one that you feed the most".

I have been thinking about this little story quite a lot lately. I am worried about something quite a bit. I need help from another person. This person won't help. It would be so easy to MAKE him help. Financially,and in other ways. I could ruin his career. I could be evil and mean. But.. I am thankful that I can't. I have to realize that you can NOT make someone care. Care about being there, care about responsibility, care about anything. All that I can do is the best that I can and know that things will work out the way that they are supposed to. They always do. I need to continue to feed my good wolf. Thanks for listening..