How WordPress Helped Me Conquer Having Dyslexia

Reblogging this incredible story from Hugh

Hugh's Views & News  

Once upon a time, there was a boy called Hugh, who hid a secret. In fact, it was not only a secret but a monster that had haunted him since his childhood days. He had locked the monster away since the first day he realised it was following him. The monster was called Dyslexia, but in February 2014, Hugh turned the tables on Dyslexia.

He had never admitted to having Dyslexia and his school told him there was no such monster and that it was all make-believe. So, Dyslexia became part of his life and he decided to lock it away and throw away the key.

Over time, some would have their suspicions that he was hiding something, but no one would say what they thought the secret was. However, one day he met his lifetime partner, John, who confronted him one day and uttered the monster’s name.

“There’s no such monster”…

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Rubbernecking Duckie

Rubberneck 1Rubberneck 2Original art by Kathleen Holdaway Swain

We endured periodic visits from Mother’s bizarre  relatives, Cookie and Uncle Riley. Whether or not they were actually deranged was debatable, they definitely teetered somewhere between eccentric and maddening. Most people who had to interact with them on a regular basis held out for just plain crazy. Both held Master’s Degrees, Cookie’s in Education and Uncle Riley’s in Mathematics. Cookie was head of a large public school system in Texas. Uncle Riley worked for the government as a mathematician in the 1950’s. I won’t press that any further, except to say that somehow, they miraculously collided and produced Cousin Barbie, The Wonder Baby. On their way to an Easter visit in 1957, Cookie and Uncle Riley made a few stops.


I digress, but needed to set the scene for their visit. Because my mother had married a blue-collar worker, a man they considered “beneath her” and had three children, Cookie and Uncle Riley held the impression that my parents ran an orphanage and would be grateful for any gift of apparel, no matter how useless they might drag in. This particular trip, they came bearing refuse from a fire sale: ten pairs of boys black high top basketball shoes in a wide range of sizes, six identical but slightly singed, size eight, red and green sateen dresses trimmed with black velvet collars and waist bands, six dozen pairs of size two cotton satin-striped Toddler Training Pants, and three six-packs of men’s silk dress socks in a nude tone, a color I’d never seen anyone wear. In addition to these useless prizes, they’d stopped by a fruit stand and gotten a great deal on a box of fifty pounds of bruised bananas and an Easter duck for Barbie. By the time they’d reached our house many hours later, four-year-old Barbie, Easter Duck, and Bosco Dog had romped in the back seat and pretty much-made soup of the bananas. Fruit flies circled the old black 1943 Ford merrily as it rocked to a stop. Uncle Riley, the mathematician, anticipating breakdowns didn’t believe in wasting money on new car parts. He always carried a collection of parts extracted from a junker in his back yard to keep his old clunker running. He also split the back of his old jeans and laced them up with shoe strings when they got too tight, but that’s s story for another day.


I know Mother must have dreaded their visit, with its never-ending pandemonium, especially since for some reason, the only thing they shared with Daddy was a healthy contempt and barely concealed animosity for each other. The five of us kids were always delighted to see them, in spite of their bizarre offerings. One pair of the smoky-smelling shoes did fit my brother, but shredded in a few steps, due to its proximity to the fire. The dresses were put back for “Sunday Best,” Thank God, never to be seen again, since neither of us girls was a size eight, nor was partial to singed, scratchy dresses. Fortunately, for my parents, at the moment, they had no size two toddlers for the training pants, though they did manage to come up with a couple just a few years later. Easter Duck, however, deeply interested four-year-old Billy.


Sensing misfortune in his future, Mother tried to run interference for Easter Duck, fearing for his health. For some reason she was distracted by the madness of intervening between Daddy and her whacked-out relatives, getting dinner ready for the whole crowd, dealing with out-of-control kids, and finding places to bed everyone down for the night. Not surprisingly, her concerns for Easter Duck were pushed to the bottom of the list. Never having been deprived of anything she wanted, ever, Barbie had no intention of being parted with Easter Duck. Billy needed a better look, and having had plenty of experience dealing with mean kids, patiently waited for his chance. Forgetting Easter Duck, Mother and Cookie went back to their visit, leaving the two four-year-olds to play. As you might expect, before long, they heard the screaming. Barbie held poor Easter Duck by his head; Billy had him by the feet. Between them, they had stretched the poor duck’s neck way past anything God ever intended, even for a swan. Neither exhibited the Wisdom of Solomon and was determined to maintain possession, at all costs. Poor Easter Duck paid the price! Though he was rescued, sadly his neck was not elastic and did not “snap back.” He didn’t get to spend the Easter holidays with his new friends, Barbie and Billy.



The Accident

Reblog fed from Vanbytheriver. Listen to that little voice.


Sometimes the Universe gives you a subtle nudge.

And sometimes, it knocks you down to get your attention.

In a very chance meeting at a flea market, I struck up a conversation with a young man selling his record collection. He worked at a local teaching facility that was looking to hire. I had been thinking about a job change for a while, and decided I’d pursue the opportunity.

He suggested that I drop off my resume, and schedule an interview with the staff director.

Without doing the proper research, I showed up the next day at the facility.

As I arrived, I stepped out of my car and turned my foot outward into a small break in the parking lot pavement.Girl_crutches-thumb-300xauto-101

I had done this before many times with little consequence. So, I brushed myself off, dropped off my resume and went about my business.

A few hours later…

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New Featured Sunset Header for March 2016

Reblogging from Before Sundown about one of my good blogging friends. Please check both of them out.

Before Sundown


Sunset by David Brian Paley

Vancouver Visions

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David Brian Paley is from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. David believes that he lives “ In one of the best metropolitan areas on this planet.” His photography proves it.

Not only does he take beautiful photos, he also writes. He’s been inspired to get back to writing, and trying his hand at a full-length novel. The working title is Shadow Warrior, a Science Fiction Fantasy with an emphasis on fantasy. At the start of 2016 he “managed to cross the first 3,000-word threshold.” Welcome to the writing world, David.

You’ll want to visit his blog site and check out his photo gallery. There are beaches, birds, flowers, seagulls, sunsets, Vancouver sites, and much more.

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