Overcoming Bloglessness


Susceptible State

Maybe I shouldn’t pick up my own prescriptions anymore. By the time I got away from the pharmacy window yesterday, I was on the verge of tears.

I saw my husband approaching, with a grocery cart and an amused smile on his face.

“What?”  I may or may not have sounded defensive.

“That looked like quite an ordeal,” he said.

“Why? What did you see?”

“Just that old lady, hugging you. And the pharmacist looked kinda stressed.”

The white haired, blue sweater lady  was ahead of us now, in the main aisle chatting with another little old lady.  All the old ladies know each other around here.  She was probably relating what just happened, Praise the Lord.  I steered my husband down the greeting card aisle so she wouldn’t see me.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I paid for her meds.”  That’s all I could get out, before the tears came.  I rummaged through my purse for a hankie and found tissue.  I was glad there was no one else in the card aisle as I dabbed my eyes.   My husband looked like a puzzled emoticon.

“How much was it?”

“Fifty bucks.”  His eyebrows went up.  “I can’t talk now.  Let’s just go.”   I needed a minute to compose myself.  He couldn’t focus on the grocery list now, wondering what the hell?    I didn’t know why it was hitting me so hard.  We walked it off in silence, down unoccupied aisles until our brains could focus on grocery shopping again.

On the way home I got the story out. The blue sweater lady and the rickety old man were at the window when I arrived; half a dozen prescriptions laid out on the counter. They had their wallets out, looking for The Right Card, but the pharmacist rejected every card they produced and tried to explain what they needed.

“Well then, how much is it going to be?” asked Rickety. The pharmacist gave them the price of each prescription. “Well, Praise the Lord, I guess,” he said. “What else can I say?” Rickety stuffed his plump wallet back into the pocket of his belted, suspendered jeans.

“Do you  want to get some of it?,” Pharma asked, separating the pills from the $75.00 inhaler.

“How much for that?”  asked Blue Sweater Lady.

“Fifty dollars.”  Pharma looked up to see how long her line was getting.  Just me and a man who was made impatient noises behind me.  I was getting impatient too.  This was taking so long.

“Well then, I guess I can’t get any of it.”  Rickety had given up.  Blue sweater lady shuffled the bottles around and made suggestions, but Rickety couldn’t deal with it anymore.   Neither of them knew what to do next.   Pharma was showing some stress now.

That’s when I got that lump in the throat feeling, just thinking about folks that age, unable to pay for meds.   What kind of society treats its elders that way?   To my way of thinking, their medications should be free.

I went off. I couldn’t take it any more.  I stepped in between Rickety and Blue and told the pharmacist I’d pay for their meds.   I paid for the fifty dollar pile of pills.

Blue thanked me and hugged me, all lit up and asked my name and do I shop here often and do I live in town?  She said she’d pay me back someday.

“That’s okay,”  I told her, patting her blue sweater.   Rickety wasn’t sure what had just happened when old couple tottered away.

“That’s so nice,” said the pharmacy lady, misty eyed.

“Well, we can’t have folks going without their meds,” said I, anxious to get away.

I got my three dollar anti-depressant and finally, I was done at the pharmacy counter.   I think the pills are helping; no bad side effects anyway. Still, I’m very susceptible to emotional stimuli. Anybody’s emotions.

Lest you think I’m being braggadocious, I’ll admit it wasn’t all brotherly love.  It was an impatient, impetuous, reaction to an inefficient system and fear for the aged.

Plus, it was worth fifty bucks just to be done! I hate waiting in lines.

Daily Prompt via State of Your Year.


Bear Map

It was like a weather map, in my dream, only it wasn’t tracking high and low pressure systems. The color coded markings on this map of North America indicated the routes of grizzly bears.
The lines on the map squiggled all around Montana.  A few lines headed west and some trekked a northerly route to the east coast, as if they took the freeway.  This was exciting new information! Who knew  griz migrated so far? Nobody knew. Just me, in my dream.

What does it mean?

It  means the weather map is the most interesting part of the local news.  It means I need a road trip.

It  means it’s that time of year when we say,  Let’s go look for bear.   Mr. Raven and I headed north one evening looking for bear and found two.  Two!   Almost like we knew right where to go.  Timing is everything.

One big, beautiful bear crossed the road ahead of us.  It might’ve been a grizzly, it was so big, but we didn’t get a good enough look (fumbling to get this bad photo) before he disappeared into the woods.  It’s pretty coat was dark underneath, fading to golden up top.


Down the road a piece we spied a little black bear, moseying along the edge of the road.
It was too dark by then to get a bad picture, but he sure was cute!


More scenery from that excursion. Elk and deer in the fields.


Today I was excited to see the Sandhill cranes not far from my house. I’d heard them, I knew they were close, but today I finally got to see them.  :)   I bet they have babies nearby.


Daily Prompt: To Sleep, Perchance to Dream.


Enveloped in Lilacs

Weekly Photo Challenge Enveloped.

My name is Susan and I am a lilac thief. Every spring I look for a massive hedge where a few sprigs won’t be missed and I steal a little lilac bouquet. Lilacs are abundant here, enveloping fences and small homes.


I’ve tried to do the right thing. I’ve planted three lilac bushes of my own. One died and the other two don’t have enough blooms to bother picking. I’m going to buy another lilac bush.


It’s my favorite scent. I have to have it. Lilac junkie.

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Someday I’d like to get my fragrance fix from my own yard. Until then, I lead a life of crime.
But only while the lilacs bloom.



Un- Fancy Nancy


Daily PromptThe Clothes (May) Make the (Wo)man.
How important are clothes to you? Describe your style, if you have one, and tell us how appearance impacts how you feel about yourself.

It’s a bit of a stretch to say I have any style.  I dress for comfort and I like a bargain.  Jeans and a cotton shirt, fun socks and comfortable shoes; that’s my everyday style.

Dressing up is fun, but shopping for the right outfit is not. Trying to find a mother-of-the-bride dress was grueling.  Sales ladies suggested expensive backless, strapless, slinky, slitted styles that required special foundations or tape.   It sounded risky and just not me. The bride approved my simple, sleeveless sheath dress in black and white floral print.   It was comfortable, flattering and worry free.
No adhesives necessary.



Forces of Nature

Weekly Photo Challenge – Forces of Nature.


Old enough to know better and young enough to feel invincible, these kids sneered at the warning signs and climbed down to the edge, closer to the churning water.


I would’ve done it too, at their age, but now I’m old enough to feel like scolding them.

That’s very dangerous! You kids shouldn’t be down there!

They probably wouldn’t hear me over the roar of the water, and if they did, they’d probably just ignore me or flip me off or make some vulgar suggestion.


I can’t blame them for wanting to be closer; to better feel the power of nature all around.
I bet you could get some great shots down there.


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