The Memo


Apparently 3:00 AM is the new 6:00 AM.
I thought I would let you know,
in case there are those of you,
who didn’t get the memo,

like me.

Waking up at 3:11 precisely every morning, has some advantages.
It is very, very  quiet,
except for the furnace going off and on,
and the small refrigerator in the basement,
which seems to want to make its presence
known, as well.
Shhhhh!  I think the fridge is snoring,

after all,
it is 3:11 in the middle of the night!

I’ll be wide awake a couple of hours now,
writing nonsense rapidly, then, b-o-o-m!
Out of nowhere, man,
I’m sleepy. I stumble to the couch, barely,
and sleep for a couple more hours.

This is whack, man, really whack!
Not groovy at all!
Especially since I never got the memo.

©Elaine Wood-Lane


Insomnia is weird, especially when you go to sleep fine, sleep well, but then wake up in the middle of the night, wide awake and raring to go!   Oh well!  *Sigh*  What can you do except make use of this beautiful, quiet time to write, read scriptures and pray.  Prayer is good.  Maybe God just wants to hear from me?  Perhaps, I’m reverting back to babyhood, waking up at all hours of the day or night, just to keep life interesitng?  Anyway, I decided to write a stream of conciousness poem about this lovely time I arise each morning.

I sincerely hope everyone has a great Monday!

Peace and love, always,


Gratitude for My Readers and Followers…

See this ridiculous grin on my face?  That’s how happy it makes me to know there are people who read my blog and even follow my blog!  I can’t tell you how excited I get every time I get a new follower.  When I get new followers, I must admit it makes me teary eyed, but also very curious as to why they would follow ME.  As I’ve heard somewhere on TV, “I’m not worthy!!”  😀   Truly you honor me with your interest in my writing and I am so appreciative.  I’m glad I’ve met so many interesting people here and I love reading your blogs too!    

I’m a bit eccentric and write about a lot of different things, but my main goal in writing is to share love, hope and encouragement with others.  (The world needs a lot more of those things in my mind!)  Poetry seems to be my strong suit, which is good because I absolutely love writing poetry.  Poetry is one of those things that transforms my day from routine to mystically beautiful.   Anyway, thanks for stopping by and reading my meanderings!  I truly do appreciate it!

Peace and Love,


Catching Up With Myself

(I started writing this on March 12.)
One thing that many people don’t know or understand about fibromyalgia/chronic fatigue syndrome is that often the people diagnosed with the syndrome appear to have normal, even very high activity levels. From the outside, everything seems status quo, even to the person who has fibromyalgia. Often, I’ll find myself thinking, “Oh good grief! There is nothing wrong with me that a good swift kick in the pants won’t take straighten out! I can do anything I set my mind to do.”

This week I have been in my hometown and area meeting my new grandson, little, sweet adorable Milo (no, I don’t care for this baby at all). I’ve also been spending time with Milo’s parents, other grandparents, family, and dear friends. The weather has been beautiful, the drives across my beloved plains have been inspirational, and overall life has truly been beautiful. I mean, how could you not be happy and energetic with moments like this?


Or this?

Then comes Thursday afternoon and suddenly the bottom drops out. Your left big toe starts hurting like it is on fire. Your elbows get hot. You hips decide they want to feel like you’ve been practicing for the grand finals of Rumba dancing, and you realize you are sinking fast. You know you can make it to the next place you’re going (my sister Judy’s house), but you’re not very sure you’ll be coherent when you get there. The blessing of having a sister like Judy is she rarely thinks you’re coherent anyway so she doesn’t care or particularly notice that you acting “weirder” than normal. I tried to set up a printer for her, but since she doesn’t have wifi, it didn’t work.

(Wrote this today, Sunday, March 22)
Suddenly, I knew I had hit my limit. I told her I had to go, gave rather incoherent goodbyes, hugged her and her sweet fellow Palmer fumbling hugs, and drove away to my friends’ house where I was staying. Buddy and I managed to stumble to the bed, where I started writing this post, but somehow I fell flat asleep (for four hours) in the middle. So, now I’m completing this post a week and some days later. I ended up getting quite ill with a sinus infection and exhaustion. My drive back to Colorado Springs was gruesome to say the least. Every cell in my body hurt. At every town I wondered if I should stop and stay the night. I kept pressing onward, however, one town at a time. I finally made it home and was never so glad in my life to sit in my green recliner and just…be. I stayed there practically all week, taking antibiotics and regaining my strength and obeying my body’s commands on how best to take care of myself. That’s the thing with fibromyalgia. You have to listen to your body and respond accordingly. If you do that, you’ll be ok. If you don’t, and you push too hard, your body says, “Nope, you’re done for a while kid. You’re going to sleep now.” I have to admit, my body is smarter than I am sometimes. 😉 You know, though, given the same chance, I’d do it all over again just to be with my grandson. That grandmotherly love kicks in and is completely irresistible. Holding my baby grandson is worth any pain or exhaustion.

He’s sleeping with the blanket I crocheted for him. I think this is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen in my life.

I hope everyone has a great week!

Peace and love,

Buddy, the Clean and Frisky Chihuahua!  

Buddy is all cleaned up and feeling frisky!! I even cut his toenails. Cutting a Chihuahua’s toenails is fraught with the same dangers as cutting a human infant’s nails except maybe even a little scarier if they have black toenails like Buddy.  It is impossible to see where Buddy’s toenail quick is so I’m always scared to death I’ll cut his quick and make him bleed.  I did that once and both of us cried for five minutes.  As a result, I never cut his nails as short as a professional groomer does, but that’s fine with me!  Today Buddy was so good throughout the grooming  process that he got two of his bacon stick treats for good behavior! 

Our big kitchen sink was the perfect place to bathe him because of the spray hose, the size, and the height so I didn’t have to bend over a bathtub.  (Don’t worry, the sink was cleaned and sanitized afterwards.)  The beauty of a small dog, especially if they trust you, is you can do their grooming yourself, IF you have the energy.  I had the energy, but now, alas, I believe it is now gone for the day!  Also, my hands and forearms have that tingly, pins and needles pain which means I should rest, even from knitting, for a little while.  Sometimes fibromyalgia really cramps my style, but we had fun and best of all, Buddy looks and smells mah-ve-lous dahling!   I hope everyone is having a beautiful first day of Spring and has a great weekend!    

Buddy the Clean and Frisky!

A Little Improv Can Go a Long Way with Dementia

An excellent blog post on both understanding dementia and interacting with parents and others who have dementia! It describes much better my mantra of “Whatever world they are living in today, go with them into it!”

Long Distance Daughter

improv-sign-crop2 Credit: Tom Magliery

Most days, dad sleeps a lot. But today, he’s wide awake. He’s on the phone, yelling at me. He’s so angry, but there’s sadness in his voice, too. “I don’t have any money, I don’t have a car. I don’t even have any shoes,” he tells me. “And I’ve got to go down and see mom and dad.”

Now, my dad is 92 and his parents have been gone for decades. He has money in bank accounts that he doesn’t remember how to access, and he has a car he’s no longer able to drive. These days, his shoes mostly stay in the closet. He wears his slippers when he has the energy to walk down to the dining room to eat with his friends Leo and John, or when he gets the urge to bust out of the skilled nursing wing where he lives. He heads…

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Openings At The U.K. Penguin Post Office

Looking for a change of scenery and career direction? Here your opportunity! I’m amazed by how many visitors this says there are to Antartica. I never would have guessed. I didn’t even know it was a true tourist destination!

Penguin Place Post

The Penguin Post has learned that there are plenty of people who want to spend five months in the bitter cold, sleeping little, be virtually isolated from the world, won’t be able to shower for up to a month and live in close proximity to three people and 2,000 penguins for five months, and work for the post office.

bransfield-house1In the two weeks since February 16th posting,  over 1,500 people have applied for only four positions with the Royal Mail—that’s 375 applicants per spot—to be an assistant at the southernmost post office in the world in Port Lockroy, Antarctica.  In 2014, the total number of applicants for the same positions was a whopping 82. Inquiries skyrocketed after a documentary about the outpost aired on the BBC and PBS, according to the organization that runs it, the UK Antarctic Heritage Trust.

Image296In addition to the cold and isolated conditions, the job is…

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What’s In A Name?

What’s in a name? This was a question asked by Shakespeare centuries ago and one that is still of importance today. If it weren’t, the question would not still come up as persistently as it does.

Many of you don’t know this, but my full name is Doris Elaine Wood-Lane. I was named Doris after my Aunt Doris, who was my mother’s youngest sister. I was always called Elaine from the day I was born, but nonetheless my first legal name was Doris and forever will be. I was the only child my parents had that was named after anyone in my mother’s family, which I always found significant. It revealed the deep love Mother had for her baby sister. The day I was born and Aunt Doris found out I had been named after her, she brought a beautiful little gold locket necklace with my initials on it up to the hospital straight away. I wore that locket for years and years until it was nearly worn out. Then I put it in a safe place, which as we all know, means I haven’t found it in years! I’m still hoping it will turn up someday, however, as I still have boxes of things from both my parents’ house and my own that I moved to Colorado.

So, why am I saying all this today? Well, first of all, last week when I went to Lubbock, I felt an urgency to visit my Aunt Doris and tell her how much I loved her and how honored I had always felt to bear her name. I arrived in Lubbock on Saturday and went to see Aunt Doris on Sunday afternoon. We had a good visit. She noticed the tattoo on my arm that says, “Elaine” and laughed when I told her that way, even if I got senile, I’d always know my name. She pointed out that they would always call me “Doris” in hospitals and nursing homes, which is absolutely true. Every teacher, every doctor, and every employer has started out calling me “Doris” until I corrected them. Well, my doctor still calls me “Doris” and I just go with it. Perhaps I should add Doris to my tattooed arm so that when I am senile and someone calls me “Doris,” I’ll know that’s me!

Aunt Doris went into the hospital last Wednesday night and my sister Judy and I went to visit her Thursday afternoon. She was in good spirits and sharp as a tack. She never needed her name tattooed on her anywhere because she knew who she was and what she wanted. She had heart and blood pressure problems, which had been going on intermittently for years. Most of her siblings, including my mother, had heart disease. Her doctors had given her the options of a risky stent placement or medication. She decided to try medication first to see if it would work. Apparently it didn’t and she was expected to have a stent placement procedure today. Unfortunately, she passed away early this morning at 3:55 AM.

I’m so very grateful that I was allowed the opportunity to visit Aunt Doris twice last week and see her in such good spirits, being the sharp, witty person she has always been. Aunt Doris always said what she meant and didn’t hold back too much on what she said, but always with kindness and generosity. She helped so many people over the years, especially with her lively encouragement and love. She sold shoes at Famous Brands shoe store in Lubbock for over 40 years and loved every bit of it. Even Thursday, when we visited her at the hospital, she was talking about her doctor having on a lovely pair of super high heels that she admired. I laughingly held up my foot to show her my black flats and said I wasn’t a stylish shoe person as I went for comfort more than anything. She wasn’t too impressed, but laughed and said, “to each their own!” I think what Aunt Doris loved the best about her job was her customers. She had devoted, loyal customers who went to her for years to buy their shoes, even though they could have found less expensive shoes elsewhere. She made every customer feel special. She remembered their shoe size, what they liked, and took her time with them. She got to know them personally and asked about their families as she helped them. She embodied customer service in a way rarely seen these days.

Well, I didn’t mean to write a book here, but I if anyone deserves a long post, it’s Mabel Doris Gill Jorgensen. Aunt Doris, your spirit of love and liveliness will be deeply missed. Your beauty, kindness, candor, wit and generosity will never be forgotten. I might have to tattoo our shared name on my arm to remember us when I get senile, but nonetheless, I always want to remember you! You are definitely one to be remembered and I still feel deeply honored to still bear your name.

Moon Shine on Snow

3:30 in the morning, and my dog decides
we need to go outside.

I stumble into a robe,
my slippers,
and out the front door.
Buddy runs out into the new snow.

I look up and gasp in wonder.
A nearly full moon shines from
behind Pikes Peak onto
the brand new sparkly snow
below and I am shocked and awed.

This cold, cold snow that has fallen
and fallen and fallen and enshrouded
the country in frigid weariness and
cabin fever is suddenly…
breathtaking and beautiful, perfect.

I suddenly realize Buddy
is pawing at my leg, ready to go inside.
It is ten degrees and I am reluctant,
strangely, to leave the beauty.

Robes and slippers are no
barrier against the cold though,
so in we go, back to bed, to sleep,
perchance to dream of beauty
in the snowy night.

©Elaine Wood-Lane

Cabin Fever and T ‘ai Chi Ch’uan

I love this poem! It really describes how many of us feel I think, about being cooped up too long in the midst of the snow that has covered us all up.  It was written by Joseph Hesch.

A Thing for Words

It’s not that I wish
my creaky old bones
could still maneuver
a shovel full of snow
like a martial arts master
slicing the chrysanthemum air
with fancy sword or spear.
I’d be quite content never
again to clear pathways of
the imperialist white interloper
overtaking my home.

But the spray of snow
from the spout of a blower
carving egress from
my fevered cabin
sometimes entrances me
like watching the flowing silk
streaming from the ends
of those blades swung in
harmonious soft and hard
by Righteous and
Harmonious Fists.

I’ve believe I’ve been
cooped up here too long.

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