Who stifles your thoughts and speech? Yourself? Your friends? Family? Laws of the land? Rules on the internet? Or is it a question of WHAT keeps you quiet? Embarrassment? Tiredness? Lack of motivation? An empty head? I have been pondering that lately….both for myself and for others.

I spent a few hours Saturday morning looking at random blogs, I have done that a few times this week. I was both curious what was out there and looking for blogs to add to my feedly reader. What I discovered is that some people have interesting things to say, but don’t blog regularly. If nothing is posted for a few days, I forget the context. I need to be invested in the blogger’s story and to see regular updates. Otherwise posts pop up in my reader and my biggest thought is huh, what, who are you? It’s jarring. It’s like seeing someone I know in church while shopping for groceries. They look familiar, but when not in the “right” context, I cannot figure out why they seem like someone I should know.

Then there are the vast majority of blogs that don’t pique my interest. I don’t want to know about sports or celebrities or clothes, shoes, jewelry and make-up. No longer do I care about child raising info. I might briefly be interested in great photos, homesteading, RVing or food blogs. Few keep my interest. It’s mildly interesting to read about where people have traveled and what they ate, but I need more. I want to know what people are thinking. What motivates them to travel? Do they just want to plunk down money for food, or are they exploring what each region has to offer?

For me, the more someone is into fluffy, on the surface stuff, the less I care about what they have to say. Apparently people actually care about the lives of people just because they make a lot of money, appear on a screen, wear expensive doo-dads or display conspicuous consumption. Why? Don’t you have your own interesting life to live? I want to know what has lit a fire under the people who are passionate about issues. I want to be inspired by people who see a need and fill it. I want to be challenged and re-energized. I want to be somehow better after they provoked my intellect or conscience. I am always looking for inspiration.

What keeps people from sharing their innermost feelings? Why aren’t we talking about things that really matter?

I was the very last in line at FNB today. I am eating seafood salad as I type. I got brioche bread, a zucchini, a summer squash and a dragon fruit. I never ate a dragon fruit before. I will have to look up how to eat one. At least I got squash for my morning eggs! On the way to FNB I met my favorite missionaries! πŸ™‚


When I came into the lobby, a couple stopped to talk to me. She wanted to know why my head, neck and back were so swollen. I knew I hurt there, but I didn’t realize it was noticable. They left. The woman who does my laundry came in and said the same thing! They hadn’t talked to each other.

Last night I went to bed because I hurt there and felt like I was getting pleurisy. I was in tons of pain, but fell asleep almost instantly. The chest to shoulder pain had been happening for days…..but now it was becoming obvious I have pleurisy for the bazillionth time. As long as I take 800 mg of Motrin every 6 hours, it’s bearable, but still awful. So, now what? I have been having the drenching night sweats, chills and fever, swollen lymphs and glands and now pleurisy. Must be yesterday was the calm before the storm. All those things were bugging me, but were on simmer.

By late this afternoon I was burning up and it was getting hard to swallow. Each time that makes me choke, my hernia rips some more. I am hurting. Despite all that, I took flower pics before and after going to FNB. It was another gorgeous day. And….my eyes haven’t been as droopy! πŸ™‚

I was looking up when I took neurontin and last time the neuropathy was bad. I had forgotten the hefty doses of meds and all that pain. As I was reading that, I reread about my life in SLC with Rhett. I had forgotten how awful it was. I am very thankful to the nurse who told me to change the locks! I wasn’t willing to give up. Looking backwards, I see I was nuts to put up with so much abuse 😦 I always gave him too much slack for all his mental and physical illnesses. He wasn’t incapable of acting nice with others…just me 😦 Sigh….live and learn.