Category Archives: Books

Best AI Quote EVER

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Happy Today!
Have a fantastically wunnerful up-coming week.
I love you. I appreciate you. You are wonderful!

Due to technical defrugalties, Coffee Break Escapes is late. My web mistress is working the situation and within minutes of its being cleared, you will find CBE in your inbox. The most honorable web mistress apologizes, as do I. But, she is marvelous, and you are now reading.

Trader Joe coming????

Since I’ve moved into the Tries, rumors float to the surface every so often that Trader Joe’s is coming! And maybe they are. Or not. The Trader looks at population and parking availability, according to an article in our newspaper, and they see the Tries not as one area of 300,000 population, but as 3 separate cities of (what, 100K each?) which isn’t enough. The article contained a link to put in our browser if we want a TJs—type in “Request a Trader Joe’s” or click here: https://www.traderjoes.com/home/contact-us/request-a-store. I’ve mailed them, periodically, letters requesting same, and never received a reply. But, what the heck, I filled out their form, and maybe, just maybe, enough other Tri-Citians will also fill it out, explain that it’s primarily the pols who see 3 separate cities, but us locals just see three neighborhoods separated by 3 rivers with more than 3 bridges connecting us. That we cross into each other’s neighborhood to shop all the time. Also to visit friends and we’d love to visit Trader Joe. So, if you have a TJs in your neighborhood, congratulations, maybe we’ll get one, too. eventually. maybe sooner! Hope springs eternal…

Travel

I’m going to be travelling for the next three weeks or so, not far, but staying with friends I haven’t seen in a long time, so there is a very good probability (high) I will be busy with friends and not writing the blog. But I shall return. Honest. Trust me.

Best AI Quote EVER!!!:

“I got in my car to drive the 200 miles between San Francisco and New York City. I should make it in about two hours.”

Book Reviews

Turn Up the Ocean: Poems by Tony Hoagland

This is Hoagland’s last book of poetry, put together by his widow a couple years after his death. He knew his was dying when he wrote several of the poems. I hope, if I have that foreknowledge and time, my poems will be written with the humor and pathos with which Hoagland wrote.

Hoagland is a writer I truly wish I could have met and shared a cuppa with. His very first poem in the book is “Bible All Out of Order” and I laughed from the first stanza, “One thing’s for sure; in the future, the morgues are going to be full of tattoos. / It’s going to be more colorful and easier to manage: / ‘Hey Jeff, move Dolphin-Shoulder-Girl to tray seven.” / “And get Mr. Flames-on-My-Neck out for the doc.” to the line, “It’s possible I have this all out of order.” to the last two lines, “while being tossed this way and that, askew and asunder, / in this blithering whirlwind of wonder.”

Just reading the Contents, is in itself a poem, and trust me, the actual poems are far more than the sum of the title’s worth! Gorgon, Immersion, Why I like the Hospital, The Reason He Brought His Gun to School: A Blues, Illness and Literature, On Why I Must Decline to Receive the Prayers You Say You Are Constantly Sending, Dante’s Bar and Gril, The Decline of the Roman Empire, Reading While Sick in the Middle of the Night, Peaceful Transition, with a whole bunch more. 

The book ends with “Peaceful Transition.” It begins with, “The wind comes down from the northwest, cold in September,” and flows to “I see the wren has found a way to make its little nest / inside the cactus thorns.”

Rest in Power, Tony Hoagland. Thank you for being, thank you for writing, thank you publishers for publishing your works, thank you for this last book of poetry. You are, truly, missed. 

The book is available from your favorite bookstore or the two linked below. And probably your library (but they’ll want it back).

Turn Up the Ocean: Poems by Tony Hoagland
Published by Graywolf Press, 2022
ISBN:  978-1-64445-092-5 (paperback)
ISBN:  978-1-64445-180-9 (ebook)
Bookshop.org              abebooks.com
5 Stars

The Beautiful Foolishness: poems by Wayne Lee

I love Wayne Lee’s poetry, I have two of his earlier books, and as soon as this one was available on pre-order, I pre-ordered. I love pre-ordering books for a variety of reasons: 1. It helps the publisher know how popular the book will be, 2. it gives the author a warm fuzzy and, 3. I tend to forget I ordered it, and then a month or three later, I receive a beautiful book in the mail like an unexpected and welcomed present. Another reason, some publishers base their royalty payments on pre-sales, and nothing else, and once the pre-sale is over, the royalty rate is set, and no matter how many books are sold later, royalty doesn’t change. 

Back to the topic, Lee’s book:  Lee is a Buddhist, and the peacefulness of Buddhism comes through in his poems, as well a deal of humor—foolishness—and the beauty of our world as it is. The first poem, “The Sky Has Spoken” begins with maintenance of life, “A magpie flies between you and the sun” and drops a dead bird at your feet, a raven flies overhead and drops the warm heart from a small being, “The sky has spoken in a language / you do not understand.” We ask questions, seek meaning beyond what was given, and our questions “rise like cottonwood fluff” and we “listen like a child / with a bright red crayon / poised above a pure white page.” 

The poems are printed in four sections, each section its own, and each beautiful. I love “Approaching Home” which begins, “And then one day you realize / you’re close to home,” and ends with “to some familiar place / you’ve never been.” What a beautiful way  to say you can’t go home again, you can’t step into a river twice in the same place, the world never stops moving.

There is a whole section of haiku, and the first is one of my favorite, “sitting at the feet / of the Buddha / a child laughs”. The last poem in the book, “Flannel Shirt” begins, “It’s the way the shirt hangs” and ends, “on the chair just right”.

Lee’s poems don’t just breathe life and give joy, but give us permission to accept the joy of being alive and to grasp that life in both arms and dance and laugh with it. Buy it, read it, live.

The Beautiful Foolishness: poems by Wayne Lee
Published by Casa Urraca Press
ISBN:  978-1-956375-43-5
Casa Urraca Press       Bookshop.org      
5 Stars

Please support Independent Booksellers, and if you’re a writer, check out Indie Presses.

The Things You See…

I was walking the SamSam the other day, and found this on the back of a car in our parking lot. I thought it worth sharing—and maybe getting 😉

“His voice deadly calm in the way that makes people check their life insurance.”
—another AI quote

And then along comes…

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Y’all know how Auntie Lenora hates numbers. If you didn’t know that before, you do now. I do not enjoy math, and I detest algebra. To me, the wonton mixing of numbers and letters is an abomination. Kinda like a tossed salad mixed with worms.

And then along comes AI thinking it’s an author, writing stories worthy of narration and publication. “It was Wednesday, and Nathan came. We spent three days — On Thursday he went back…” Even I, Numbers Phobe Extraordinaire, knows that’s wrong. Sigh. 

My secret sin, I listen to way too many of these, I never comment, I do not wish to encourage more than I do by clicking on them, but I find them laugh out loud funny! The words are mispronounced, the abbreviations written are said incorrectly, and the stories are, well, think romance novels of the ‘70s and ‘80s. The SciFi ones are fairly well done, and fun, but again, very formulaic. The ones that come out of other countries are not always translated, often there are sentences and paragraphs in Asian languages, and I think I’ve caught Russian in a couple. But they are great escape from the Un-named Person (UP) the news generated by same.

The Red Hijab by Bonnie Bolling

I honestly don’t remember who recommended this book, but I wish I did so I could thank them. It’s about 70 pages of some wonderful poetry. As H. L. Hix says in the Forward, Bonnie Bolling “…lives a part of each year in Diraz, a village in Bahrain [and] is in position to offer, and does offer in The Red Hijab, an alternative to [news dispatches.” I would like to know why she lives there part time every year, because I’m curious. 

I found the poems engaging and telling of a life more as it’s lived than reported on the news. Yes, there are the sounds of shootings while a chicken cooks in someone’s kitchen. There is rain and a soaked housemaid passing wearing her red hijab. 

Bolling takes us on a tour of day-to-day-living in a culture very unlike ours, and while I don’t think I would want to live in that culture long-term, I found it beautiful in its honesty, and of course, had I been born into it, it would be all I would know. 

From the first and title poem, “The Red Hijab” which begins: “A hard rain falling on the corrugated roof / of the abandoned double-wide / across the steaming street,” to the last poem of the book, “On a Balcony with the Lunch Poems” which ends, “always the going, / always the returning, / the four of them wearing / Superman underwear.” (she returns to California and her sons) we are treated with the beauty of words, and a country I’ve never known and would like to meet. 

The book is divided into three parts, introduced by quotes by people as varied as Adonis, Virginia Woolf, Job, and Rumi. The word Azan appears many times, and when I looked it up, thinking it was a synonym for muezzin I learned something, which makes the book even more worthwhile. The muezzin is the man who calls/sings the azan, the call to prayer, from the minaret. There are several of the calls or summons to prayer on line, here is one classified as the “Most Beautiful Azan Ever Heard.” I cannot attest to that, because it’s the only one I’ve ever heard, but it is beautiful. 

The Red Hijab by Bonnie Bolling
ISBN: 978-1-943491-06-3
BkMkPress, 2016
available from Amazon
            I looked at abebooks.com and it cost twice as much plus an outrageous s/h fee. I could not find it on Bookshop.org. Amazon has new ones for $12.74
5 stars

First Goslings!

Our first goslings of the season were brought over to the small pond next to my office on Thursday. There were four of them. Parents very watchful and protective. A lot of folks don’t like Canada Geese, but they are family oriented. As more goslings come along, the families frequently band together, herding all the youngsters into a mass bundle of cuteness, and walk surrounding them, or swim surrounding them, to keep them all safe. Ducks don’t seem to be that caring. The drakes ignore the hens while they nest, so they must leave the eggs unattended while they eat, and when the babies come, the hens are protective of theirs, but aren’t smart enough to see banding together with other duck hens and young would add more protection. They will attack any duckling that wanders into their group or territory, as the usurper will steal the food of their babies. I don’t want to politicize our geese or ducks but they do rather remind me of our two major political parties. /meow/

I believe the gander is on the left, and the dame on the right. The four yellow spots are the goslings.

“The holiest place on earth
is where your greatest
enemy stands.” –unknown

Blatant Self-Promotion:
I’m sorry, but every so often I really need to self-promote
Saying Goodbye to Thomas.
If you would like to asigned copy, contact me.
The cost is $23.00 including shipping and handling,
otherwise, please check your local indie bookstore, Bookshop.org or the other place.
If you buy from me, I will donate the ENTIRE amount, split evenly, to
ALS Association and Death With Dignity.
Whatever royality I receive from bookstores/publishers
is also divided equally.
I make NO money from this book.

Hiking With the Elderly

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Happy Today! May your week be Fantabulous! I love you. I appreciate you.

I found an old file on my computer the other day, and in wandering through it, came across this piece I wrote several years ago, and thought y’all might get a chuckle out of it.

Hiking With the Elderly

My stepdad, Sandy, had at least four weeks of vacation per year, and we often spent that camping with my Grandma and Skipper—what everyone called my grandpa—my mother’s parents.  One year, my best friend Pat was invited to join us.  Two teen-aged girls, for four weeks of primitive camping! What was my family thinking?

Our first camp site that year was in central Oregon just south of Bend, on East Lake, which is east of Paulina Lake.  The adults would spend most of the day out on the lake fishing, and Pat and I would spend our time hiking, wandering around, reading, and checking out the guys.  The latter took very little time, as there weren’t many our age worth checking out.  And the ones there were, were far more interested in fishing than us girls.  Their loss.

One day, Skipper decided to take us on a hike to the fire look out tower at the top of Paulina Peak, almost 8,000 feet elevation.  Now, Pat and I decided we’d go easy on the old man, after all, we were teenagers, and he was in his 70s.  So off we went.  We drove to the trail head, and started up. It being both good etiquette and common sense to allow the slowest to lead, we let Skipper lead us up the trail.  We went up.  And up.  And up.  We finally got to the top.  The view was spectacular, as I recall, and we spent a little time there, then it was time to go down.  And down.  And down.  No, only two downs.  It was three ups and two downs.  I’m positive of that.  

Back at the campsite, with a couple hours of daylight left, Skipper went fishing – Pat and I collapsed into a long and wonderful nap.  We woke in time to eat supper, and then slept all night long.  We were pooped.  So much for giving the old man a break.

Several years latter, when my son was in his early twenties, I bought a new pair of hiking boots.  We decided to take them on an inaugural hike.  I found a trail close to my apartment, a ‘wandering creek trail’.  I thought that would be a nice easy hike, following the creek.  A good way to break in my new boots. What the trail name failed to tell, and the map failed to show, as it wasn’t an elevation map, was that the wandering creek wandered as it fell over several hundred feet – the trail went up and up and up.  One of the steepest trails I’d ever been on.  Aaron and I hiked and climbed and when we got to the top, where it leveled out, we walked. 

The view was spectacular, and there was a nest of well-marked and maintained trails at the top of the plateau.  I later spent many afternoons and weekends exploring those trails.  Though I seldom took the wandering creek trail again.  Oh, and when we got back to the apartment, Aaron collapsed into a long and deep nap.  I went grocery shopping.  Once again proving old age and treachery will win over youthful exuberance.  Or is it that history repeats itself?

Caliche Road Poems by David Meischen

This book has been in my to-read stack for several months. I finally got to the book, and am so sorry I waited so long to get to it. Caliche Road Poems should have been at the top of the stack and it should be at the top of yours!

As Meischen says in the note at the beginning of this powerful, accessible collection, “These poems originate from a particular place and time—the Meischen family farm in the Dilworth community of Jim Wells County Texas, 1948 and the years that followed.” The poems are about his youth, and his family, and friends as he knew them and remembers them.

As a city gal who, especially as a young, romantic, girl, dreamed of marrying a farmer or cattle rancher, I found this collection both informative and fascinating. And, I think, I’m glad I stayed a city gal, though I do prefer towns to raging cities.;-)

I love the images—his parents dancing to Glenn Miller, the air conditioned shop in Corpus Christi, the trees, the play of children, the dangers of farm life. I could smell the mesquite, my back ached harvesting cotton.

And any grown man (or woman), who still calls his daddy Daddy, has my undying love and admiration. The Meischens are a family I’d love to know, to sit with a cup of coffee or iced tea and just converse and enjoy their company, a slow Texas breeze, the scenery from the kitchen or the porch. Thank you, David Meischen for sharing your family and home, dogs, cows, everyday life. I look forward to returning several times in my future.

Caliche Road Poems by David Meischen 

ISBN: 978-1-962148-03-0
Lamar University Literary Press, Beaumont, Texas
Bookshop.org

This book deserves a place on your nightstand. Delightful poems with which to end your day.

Sunday Service

I know I’ve told you about Rev. Dr. Staceypants and her Sunday Sermons. It’s the first time in 40 years or more that I’ve actually looked forward to Church on Sunday, or any other day of the week. For those of you who don’t know her, at least electronically, you might want to check her out. Today’s sermon: “Is It a Sin to Cheer for Iran?” And, no, she’s not a closet Muslim, and she’s not anti-American. For an interesting sermon, by an atheist, recommended by another atheist, click here. And don’t forget to call out, Amen at the appropriate places!

Standards Not Force

Those of you who want to resist, and for whatever reasons can’t do marches, etc., please consider checking out Standards Not Force. for Substack, and Standards Not Force on YouTube. They have a way for us old folks to pull our part.

Be well, be happy, be safe

Billy the Kid

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Before I begin, here is your Monday Public Service Announcement:

Happy Monday. Have a great rest of the week. I love you. I appreciate you.

When I lived in Albuquerque, I started working on a book of poetry about Billy the Kid, aka William H. Bonney, aka Henry McCarty—his birth name. I was still in the research stage when life happened, and I moved back to Kennewick, and became involved in other things. I still dream of going back to New Mexico, Fort Sumner, etc., and doing research, and writing the poems, but then, I’m a dreamer, eh?

In the meantime, someone in my critique group recommended a book last year, Coming Through Slaughter, a fictionalized biography of New Orleans jazz pioneer Buddy Bolden and is partly set in Slaughter, Louisiana, by Michael Ondaatje. I enjoyed the book, so when I found The Collected Works of Billy the Kid also by Michael Ondaatje, I had to read it, too. And I was not disappointed!

There is not a great deal known about Billy, but there is some information out there, and Ondaatje did a marvelous job of using what little is known as a springboard for his poetry and prose. It reads like a journal, or maybe a better description is a collection of his (Billy’s) papers, what were found, often without beginning or ending. Some of the poems actually have titles, or at least attribution as to who wrote them, as “Miss Sallie Chisum” by Sallie Chisum describing Billy “As far as dress was concerned / he always looked as if / he had just stepped out of a bandbox.” She goes on to describe his clothing, finishing with, “he was the pink of politeness / and as courteous a little gentleman / as I ever met.” From what I’ve found about Billy in what little research I’ve accomplished, this was a fairly accurate description of him.

By many accounts I’ve read, Billy was a gentleman, at least where the ladies were concerned. He dressed well, he was polite, he was bi-lingual (English and Spanish) and possibly tri-lingual. There is some information out there he spoke Gaelic, probably learned at his mother’s knee.

If you’re looking for a good and plausible book about Billy, I highly recommend The Collected Works of Billy the Kid.  It’s great fun. If you’re looking for a scholarly account of the young man’s life, this isn’t for you. And yes, there is the conspiracy that Garrett shot the wrong man, claimed he was Billy, buried him, and collected the reward and that Billy once again escaped, made it to Mexico or someplace, lived a quiet life as a law-abiding citizen, married, and had a family, etc., etc., etc. Billy was a master at aliases and escapes, so this isn’t entirely unbelievable.

Oh, and in the interest of transparency, or just kinda interesting stuff, when Daddy was a youngster, he met a man who knew Pat Garret who is credited with killing Billy the Kid. We are closer to history than we sometimes realize.

My Friday

Those of you who know me, know I’m not really a morning person. Oh, I get up early enough, because when I wake up enough to answer the early morning calls of bladder and dog, I’m up. I try not to get up before 4am, but sometimes it’s earlier, and if I go back to bed, I just lie there for a couple of hours and I might as well be up and at the computer with my cuppa joe. Like this morning, Sunday. Yes, I’m up, but I’m not cognizant, I’m not ready for thinking, for talking, for doing much beyond watching something on the computer and maybe, if I’m lucky, getting a few words written on the virtual paper before me. Somewhere around 9am, I actually become functionally awake 😉

So, this past Friday, I signed up for a poetry workshop, that started at my time of 7am. It was something like 3 hours long, and very interesting. I actually got 4 poems written during that time. No, they are not ready to be abandoned, but they are good enough to warrant some editing and maybe submission. Then, later that afternoon, I attended my weekly workshop of prompts, and wrote two more poems, also pretty good first drafts. Aren’t you glad I don’t share all the poetry I write with you? Since 1 Jan this year, I’ve written 90. Boy Howdy, do I know how to have fun!!! 😉

How Many Days Until Mid-Term Elections?

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You really think we’re going to have them? Nope, they ain’t gonna happen, my gentle families and friends. That’s why we’re in an undeclared-by-Congress war, so the Unnamed Person can claim an emergency, and take over and cancel elections, or have them with his goons manning polling places. Yep, we’re closer to history than we realize.

(Please, prove me wrong. Please, please, please.)

be happy, be well, be safe!

Unbuilding (a Book Review)

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Just finished reading a fun book, Unbuilding by David Macaulay. It’s children’s lit, but great fun. In 1989, a Saudi Prince buys the Empire State Building, has it dismantled, labeled, etc., and put on a ship to Saudi where it can be reassembled. This is the story of Unbuilding the Empire State Building. It’s full of pen and ink drawings, and if you have any budding architects, engineers, or builders in your sphere, you might want to consider the book for them. It’s available from Bookshop.org or if you don’t mind a used book, from abebooks.com. Or from your favorite indie bookstore.

I’m going to have to try his other books. Well, some of them. He’s got bunches and they look way fascinating. He’s got at least 25 listed on Bookshop.org. ranging from Castle to The Way Things Work to Mammoth Math: Everything You Need to Know About Numbers to Rome Antics. I’ll probably skip the Mammoth Math—it’s hardback, and I prefer softback /snort/. (for those of you who don’t know, I prefer letters and words to numbers and equal signs)

However, since I’m on the topic of books, when Covid hit, I attended a book launch by Arthur Sze of his book The Glass Constellation sponsored by Rain Taxi. It was via a zoom-type of program, so no one was crammed in a seat next to 100 of their new best friends, we were all given our own little “room” on a screen. Sze was maybe a quarter of the way through with his presentation, and I had already ordered the book. I’d never heard of him before that night, but that’s how impressed I was with his poetry. When my book came, it’s a compendium of several of his earlier books, all bound together with new and selected poems. I literally consumed the book withing r or 5 days. I have since added several other books to my collection, including his latest, or one of his latest ones, Into The Hush. Not only do I love the book, but I was invited to join a group of poets who will gather for 6 meetings to study the book, its poems, and do writings inspired/based on his poems in the book. 

The small group I am in (3 per group) decided to study/work on Letter to Tao Qian. Thanks to Favorite Daughter, I have The Silk Dragon II, a book of Chinese poems Sze translated, and the first 5 poems are by the Ancient Chinese poet, Tao Qian. It’s very interesting to read those 5 poems and find the references in Sze’s poem. Homework has never been such fun. 

My Winter Gift from me to me this year was Sze’s book, The White Orchard. It is a collection of some of his interviews,  essays, and some poetry. The most interesting parts to me are the areas where he talks about how he writes. He often uses disparate phrases and fragments of sentences for his lines, but all of the lines are deliberate, and in a deliberate order. Because we all bring our own stories to the ones we read, we are each given our own interpretation as to what his lines mean. Is he telling us to stop, relax, breathe, acknowledge there is evil in the world, but to spend more time on the beauty? I have started writing “like” Sze, but not like him. My mind is trainable, but I don’t want his voice, I want his style. I want to keep my own voice. I want someone to read my poem and say, “Ah, she’s read Arthur Sze!” It is very difficult for me to think in segments and fragments, but I have written a couple of poems with one-line stanzas, in disparate fragments. I am also working on a long, sectioned poem like he writes, with each section being in a different format. Those are the poems that caused me to order The Glass Constellation.

Of course, there are many poets out there I really like—the ever-gracious Naomi Shihab Nye, the late Lucille Clifton, the late Paul Monette, the effervescent Diane Seuss, and the incomparable Eduardo C. Corral. But I am in Literary Lust with Arthur Sze 😉

Imagine You Are Madame Dorion

So, I log onto YouTube and am looking at the videos on my home page, and notice a photo of buffalo in a snow storm that looks familiar, like one I took, and then I look at the words, and it IS one of my photos from when my friend and publisher of Madame Dorion put together a promo video for my book. Wow! Something from ten years ago showed up—a whole video of my photos.  On my YouTube home page. If you didn’t get it on your home page, it is here — a smidge under 7 minutes. And, if you haven’t read the book, you can find it at your favorite bookstore (they may have to order it) or at bookshop.org. Historical fiction at its finest, not that I’m biased—or bragging. By the way, the cover on Madame Dorion was painted by a descendant of Madame Dorion.

And Remember

If you don’t yet have your copy of Saying Goodbye to Thomas, you may pick up, or order, a copy from your favorite bookstore, or order a copy here, at Bookshop.org. All proceeds go to the ALS Association and End of Life Washington/Death With Dignity.

William Stafford Challenge

Today, 16 February 2026, is the 31st day of the William Stafford Challenge. The Challenge goes from 17 Jan to 17 Jan (his birthday, and we write a poem a day), on the 17th of January, I had written 22 poems, having started on the first of January. By this morning my number of poems written is currently 68. More will come this day, I am sure. 

Now, they aren’t all good poems, though a couple are, but they are all seeds to go back and edit, revise, and have good poems emerge. 

A fond memory of my road trip through the Southwest a couple years ago. The tall skinny ones are saguaro cactus. It was warm. Blessedly warm.

Be Happy, Be Well, Be Safe

Did She Cheat? Is She Bad—Or Smarter Than the Average Groundhog?

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Okay, the first few sentences of this post are being written on Tuesday, 2 February 2026. Those of you who are calendar savvy, know that today is Groundhog Day. Those of you who know your favorite Auntie Lenora, know today is her birthday, and she is therefore, a Groundhog.

She woke this morning a few minutes after 4am, that kind of wakefulness that said that if she rolled over to go back to sleep, it would take at least 2 hours to drop off for another hour of restless sleep. Sigh. She might as well get up and at least make the dog happy in letting him out. As she stood at the door, half past 4 in the morning, she remembered it is, in fact, her 83d anniversary of flying around old Sol, so she stepped outside in the cold and did not see her shadow, thereby bringing all of you, her favoritest people ever, an early Spring.

Yes, she knows, her Cousin Phil, of Punxsutawney fame, saw his shadow, but he’s in Pennsylvania, and doesn’t believe in getting up before sunrise. Your Auntie Lenora doesn’t  believe in the latter, either, unless it’s winter when the sun doesn’t come up until after 7am. It’s been suggested that she is thereby cheating, nothing against her Cousin Phil, but just maybe it makes her smarter? But he and she do have a gentleperson’s agreement, he gets to foretell the weather east of the Rockies, and she get the west. The Rockies are on their own, she guesses.

Niener, niener, niener—I told you so!!

Just last month, I mentioned Dr. Computer, and this morning (3 Feb) on Jeff Tiedrich’s column, Everyone is Entitled to my own Opinion, he has a quote from a video of Dr. Oz. He also has the video posted.

The quote: ““there’s no question about it, whether you want it or not — the best way to help some of these communities is gonna be AI-based avatars.”  Now, to be honest and transparent, our favorite Wizard Oz, did say, promise, and guarantee (say that in your best Cajun drawl—gar aaahn teeeeee) the Avatar would ONLY do the prelim part, then connect the patient to a real live, living, breathing licensed (not sure he said licensed) human doctor. Yeah. Right. With AI becoming what it’s becoming, how would you know? Anyhow, the clip is short, watch it. (No wonder Dorothy preferred leaving Oz to go back to Kansas! /snark/)

And this morning, 9 Feb 26, I came across this information from Medical Economics


“Oz claimed that if a patient went to a doctor for a diabetes diagnosis, it would be $100 per hour, while an appointment with an AI avatar would cost considerably less, at just $2 an hour. Oz also claimed that patients have rated the care they’ve received from an AI avatar as equal to or better than a human doctor. (Research suggests patients are actually more skeptical of medical advice given by AI.) Because of technologies like machine learning and AI, Oz claimed, it is now possible to scale ‘good ideas’ in an affordable and fast way.” [emphasis mine]

And now for some Happy News!

As you may remember from past posts, Thomas asked me to be his Literary Executrix. I have all his thumb drives, a delightful insight into his work, especially his memoir that he worked hard to finish while he could still type. He tried dictating but never got the hang of it (it’s harder than one may think). 

He had mentioned to his good friends Phoebe and Paul owner and editors of The Raven Chronicles, that he wanted them to have first right of refusal to publish it. A minor detail he neglected to tell me, by the way. However, when I finished minor editing for clarity, I mentioned it to Phoebe when she came to my book launch, and she suggested I send it to Paul to read. That he’d know what to do with it. I sent it to Paul quite a while ago and heard nothing beyond he’d received it and would get back to me. Unbeknownst to me, Paul also worked with Phoebe, who is the Editor in Chief of Raven Chronicles, where Thomas also worked as an editor. I knew they were friends, and that Paul wrote stories and novels, but not that he worked with Phoebe.

All of that is to get us to this week when I had a Zoom meeting with Phoebe and Paul, and they have accepted Thomas’s manuscript, plus some other writings of Thomas’s, and will publish it sometime in 2027. It was during that meeting I found out he’d told Phoebe a long time ago that he wanted her to have first right of refusal. I’m so glad that I mentioned his manuscript when she came to my book launch! Although, to be honest, I probably would have asked her advice on it anyhow. 

Be safe, be well, be happy!

“Mitákuye Oyás’iŋ” We are all related ~ Lakota Saying.

Ready or Not, 2026 is Here!

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9 January 2026

Well, this is embarrassing. I wrote a post on the first (see below) and tried to post it, and something was amiss, so I contacted my webmistress, and she got it fixed and let me know a couple days ago all was well, and I forgot to go in and post it. So, now it’s a double post.

Except this one will be extra short 😉

And I wish you all a bang-up marvelous 2026. May goodness outweigh badness to the nth degree this new year!

1 January 2026

2025 is now in our rear-view mirror! And you know what I’m thankful for? Groundhog Day, the movie, is pure fiction. Lordy, lordy, but I hate even the shivery thought of having to repeat 2025. Ever.

True, there were some good things that happened, most notable being that Saying Goodbye to Thomas (Finishing Line Press) is now published and available at your favorite bookstore. And, should you not wish to purchase from the big A, and not have a store near you or it’s too cold to go out, I suggest www.Bookshop.org. True, you’ll have to pay s/h, but not much, and a certain percentage of the purchase price goes to independent bookstores (you can even choose your favorite).

And, of course, your favorite Old Auntie survived the identity theft and resultant aches & pains—many thanks to the help of Favorite Daughter. To be honest, I’m not sure I could have survived without her help.

I did get some poetry written and published (Thank you Quill & Parchment and Dos Gatos Press). Watched way too much YouTube. Not too much on the political front, as those tend to add to the depression I’ve been fighting, and mostly winning, for the past 14 months. The new AI stories, most on revenge, and pretty funny. The stories, the obvious lack of I in the AI, especially the so-called military ones. No, I do not leave comments, nor click on them. I’m pretty sure many of them are out of China, but if you listen, you can tell they’re AI. Maybe A+ would be a better descriptor? A-?? Also one of the ways to tell if the news you’re watching by your favorite pundit is really Pundit or A+/-. Listen. You’ll know.

On 1 June 2018, I welcomed a rescue large Chihuahua named Sammy, into my life. He was literally afraid of his own shadow, of dead, dried, zombie leaves that ran at him to eat puppy brains, any other human that spoke to him, dogs on leashes, ducks on his sidewalk, thunder terrified him, as well as fireworks. With thunder, he becomes highly (lowly? his legs are pretty short??) agitated, and he jumps off the bed, goes under the bed, then back on the bed, and repeats until the offending sounds finally quit. I changed his name to Sammy Brave Dog, hoping it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Last night, New Year’s Eve, the fireworks started somewhere around midnight (I assume) and I braced to become his launchpad off the bed to the floor when he nosed his way under the blankets and snuggled next to me, and didn’t so much as shiver or shake the rest of the night. In checking my smart watch, I see I was awake for a little over an hour roughly between midnight and 1:10am. When the fireworks were going off. And my puppy slept through it!!! 

And the zombie puppy-brain-eating-leaves that attack him at the whim of the wind? For the most part, he now just raises is back leg and tells them who the boss is!

While visiting a friend the other day, I was struck by a black/white photo of a white wolf in snow, on her wall. The outline was there, but it was almost all white except the eyes and nose. So, I came home and started playing with my camera and my mini-wolf. He is an extremely shy dog, but here are a couple photos, one as he looks, and the other in my feeble attempt to make him a white wolf. 

Sammy Brave Dog as he is.

Sammy Brave Wolf as he thinks he is.

Are You Adoptable?

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Oh for heaven’s sake. Somehow, when I copied and pasted, I dropped the lead paragraph: This is a reprint from my now defunct blog, Odds n Bods, from a different tim, with a few changes, and additions. /sigh/

I read an article the other day that got me to thinking a tad bit about old age, growing older, and all the related implications.

The article, “He was one of millions of Chinese seniors growing old alone. So he put himself up for adoption.” is by Emily Rauhala at The Washington Post, May 2, 2018.

It is about an 85-year-old Chinese man, a widower, with children who had long since moved away and had lives of their own. The old ways in China are dying, if not dead. Modernity has come, and with it the fact that children are not always in a position to care for aging parents as once was the norm. Han Zicheng, tired of being alone, of having no sons to care for him (he claimed he had two, one of them said there were three), posted a note in a public place asking for someone to adopt him so he would not die uncared for, alone.

Loneliness is a terrible thing, and we, as a species, seem to feel it more when we are surrounded by people, strangers. I wrote a blog about it December 28, 2015, Are You Lonesome Tonight? on a now defunct blog and even had a link to Elvis singing his popular song. Fortunately the YouTube link to The King’s recording is still available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XVdtX7uSnk.

My memory of the article about Mr. Han is he was “needy”—he complained about his plight, he didn’t want to do for himself, he expected others to do for him. He refused to go to a nursing home. There were people who maintained contact with him, sporadic at best, but not his family. 

I’m sure we all know people like Mr. Han, I certainly do. They are very needy, and though surrounded by people, no one pays them much attention because they are always angry or complaining. Most of them are also excellent manipulators, and often one doesn’t realize what is happening until they’ve been sucked in. Needy people are exhausting people. They don’t want to help themselves; they want someone to “fix” it for them, whatever “it” is. There is a reason I never became a counselor. 

Someone sent me a quote by Cynthia Nelms the other day, “Nobody cares if you’re miserable, so you might as well be happy.” It’s good advice. Truly, nobody cares. Oh, that’s not to say, when the now and again calamity hits they don’t care, but it gets jaded hearing nothing but complaints from people, even when couched in such a manner they think they’re being cute and people won’t notice. Complaining is a habit, and like any habit, it can be broken with a little work. Okay, a lot of work. Still it’s a habit that can be broken. Or continually reinforced. Pay attention to what you think, speak, and write. Is it positive, or is there a hint of whine? Cheese not included. 

I read an article the other day by a counselor, and I now wish I’d marked it, written it down, but I didn’t. Old age, ya know? Anyhow the counselor said that forgiving someone isn’t about them, it’s about the one who forgives. You can hate someone for your whole life, and guess how much sleep the hated person loses over it? Yeah, none. How much do YOU lose over it? The counselor suggested even if you don’t really want to forgive the offending person, pretend to forgive them. Every time you think of them, and start getting angry, etc., stop and say something like, “(Name) you really hurt me. I forgive you.” and then go one with your day. Repeat as often as necessary. Eventually, you’ll really forgive them without really noticing, and you’ll start to feel better than you’ve felt in years.

At some point in my life it came to me that I’m probably going to be alone far more than I’m going to be coupled, and if that’s the case, I’d darned well better learn to like myself, because I’m going to be the best, and possibly only, company I’m going to have as I age, grow old, and die.

By the way, this idea of being afraid to die alone is rather odd, if you think about it. Two things we always do alone are being birthed and dying. There may be friends and or family present, but when push comes to shove (pun intended) we’re gonna do it alone. If it frightens you, I suggest you do some searching as to why it frightens you, and then act and change so it doesn’t. Educate yourself. If the face of the god you worship is a vengeful, wrathful, frightening one, consider finding a more forgiving, humorous, and loving face of your god to worship. As Reverend Mother Odrade, BG, said, “Face your fears or they will climb over your back.”

Are you lonesome? Want someone to adopt you? Are you adoptable? Which baby do you gravitate to—the happy, bubbly baby, who loves to burble and smile? —or the grumpy one who would rather cry and whimper and scream? Who would you adopt?

Public Service Announcement: I sent two checks off to the ALS Association and End of Life Washington today, in memory of Thomas, each for $80.00. Thanks to all of you who bought the book. And thanks to all of you who will buy the book, the next check will go out in February.

Lenora

“Don’t take life too seriously. You’ll never get out of it alive.” –Elbert Hubbard

Lost Files and Box of Books

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Lost Files:

As mentioned a couple posts ago, I had my identity stolen last April—the nightmare that keeps on giving.

Once I had my computer back (note: the thief didn’t steal the actual computer, he hijacked my iCloud files) from the thief, I took it to a trusted computer store, and had it ‘scrubbed’ for any trojans, viruses, etc. that the thief may have planted. It came home all squeaky clean—and missing about four and a half years of my poetry. I thought my files were backed up, but, alas, not to be found. Talk about grief and depression! 

The thief also stole my phone number, and many thanks to the crew at our local Verizon store, I got it back the night before my number was to go back into the pool of numbers and beyond retrieving. We had to take my phone back to factory settings to get the thief’s phone number off it. Which meant I’d lose all the apps I’d put on. No biggee, just a pain. Well, one biggee, I’ve not been able to find the solitaire game I had enjoyed. The new ones are subpar in my opinion.

Sooo, last Monday night, I saw an app on my phone I didn’t remember seeing. Called “Files.” Now, I’m just a tad leery of clicking on things since the Great Hijacking. But eventually I had to click on it. And there were my Document files. Would my lost files be there? I wasn’t sure I wanted yet another major loss, and it was with a great deal of trepidation I scrolled down and there they were and are. Depression cured. 

When I was spending so much time in Kirkland, with Thomas, I started saving everything to the cloud so I could access files I needed/wanted from my iPad. Then, after I came home, where I had my computer, I forgot about it. Apparently, when I started backing everything up to the cloud, a magic app appeared on my phone, which I never saw (wasn’t looking for it). I couldn’t figure out why the thief would want to delete them, and seriously doubt he did. Not sure where they went, but I’m beyond delighted to have found them. 

Box of Books:

I ordered books from the publisher and received 15 pounds of books in a box the other day, direct from the printer. Books ordered from the publisher in ones and twos, such as pre-orders, should be arriving in your mailboxes this week. I am thrilled with the way it looks. The cover photo by Sherry Walker turned out great! Thank you, Ms Walker!!!

I haven’t received my hardback book yet, but I’m sure it, too, is gorgeous. If you haven’t yet ordered your very own copy, please consider ordering from the publisher, your local indie bookstore, or any of the online stores. 

Saying Goodbye to Thomas
by Lenora Rain-Lee Good
ISBN 979-8-89990-036-5 First Edition
Finishing Line Press (dot) com

Paperback: $17.99
Hardback: $27.99

Remember, all royalties will be divided equally between the ALS Association and End of Life Washington (and no, it isn’t suicide).

Please consider ordering a copy, and if you’re in the Kirkland area of Washington State, please consider combing by The Book Tree from 5:24 to 8:22 pm on August 2, 2025 for a Special, Remembering Thomas, and the official launch of Saying Goodbye to Thomas. Enjoy a great night of poetry by poets who knew and loved Thomas.

“A poet who reads his verse in public may have other nasty habits.”
~ Robert A. Heinlein

Hello! Remember me?

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Your friendly, neighborhood poet. And do I have news for you!!! Saying Goodbye to Thomas has been released by the publisher. If you pre-ordered a copy, I thank you, and it should be in your hands maybe next week. If you didn’t pre-order, that’s okay. In fact, perhaps you’ll be glad—there is also a hardback book, if you’d rather not have a paper/softback copy!

This book is available from your favorite bookstore. Admittedly, you’ll probably have to order it, as not every bookstore carries every book, but…. 

All you need is          the title: Saying Goodbye to Thomas, 
                                    the author: Lenora Rain-Lee Good
                                    the publisher: Finishing Line Press
                                    the ISBN: 979-8-89990-036-5

                                    paper back: $17.99
                                    hard back: $27.99

I will be holding a book launch at The Book Tree, in Kirkland WA the afternoon/evening of 2 August 2025, starting at 5:15pm. This was Thomas’s favorite indie bookstore. If you’re in Kirkland area, come on by!! There will be other poets there, who knew Thomas, so it will be a Thomas night superb.

Speaking of Indie publishers and bookstores—support them when possible. Buy books from the publisher, buy books from the indie bookstore in your town. 

Remember, I make NO money from this book. ALL royalties received will be divided between the ALS Association and Death With Dignity. Incidentally, DWD is not suicide, it is a hastening of certain death, usually slow, painful, and robbed of personal dignity, that will happen within the next six months or less.

Please consider buying a copy.

“In a world largely uncomfortable with death, Lenora Rain-Lee Good writes through the process of embracing grief as it approaches, “It’s so easy to be brave / when not required,” she writes, yet these poems remind us that every day, each moment, requires its own bravery—that even the rehearsals for the great performance of death demand our presence, demand that we connect with one another, insist that we open ourselves to love even thought it will break our hearts–because it is the only way to live.” —Zach Hively, Author, Owl Poems