Ya, right! But honestly, I like the noise and organized chaos that is our weekends. The only problem is it can trigger fibrofog and even headaches. I woke up three times this morning. At 8:30 the alarm went off to take pills. Then at 9:30 the canine alarm went off to feed her and her …
I am so pleased to have found Anna! It is great having a partner who understands chronic pain and accepts the fact that I am sleeping at 3pm and setting up websites at 3am! The website, now called http://www.globalmediamavens.com is up, though a shell of its future self! Lady, I am happy to ride wit you!
I’m going to try to add the video from whatever song title I’m using. It doesn’t always work because I’m basically a the computer village idiot, maybe one step above. You see when I was growing up, there was not really such a thing as a personal computer. There was no Skype, or video-conferencing. There was no Facebook, Twitter, Periscope, Yelp, or any of the other dozens of tools at our virtual disposal now. I had typing class. That’s right, on a typewriter. It’s a brave new world.
It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. I was without a computer for most of last week. The guy at the smoke shop screwed me (not terribly surprised), but, luckily for me, a lovely lady agreed to help me pick up some slack. Let me explain. Lydia at Being Lydia, whom I met through blogging, then joined my invisible illness support…
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My parents did quite the opposite of Mrs. Edison and I felt it for years. This whole post is something we should all read and practice.
The story went like this.
One day, Thomas Edison was sent home from school with a note to his mother. With tears in her eyes, his mother read the note out loud:
‘Your son is a genius. The School is too small for him and we don’t have enough good teachers to train him. Please teach him yourself.’
Many years later when his mother died and Edison had become one of the greatest inventors of the century, he found a note among his mother’s papers. It was the note from the school which said:
‘Your son is addled [mentally ill]. We won’t let him come to school anymore.’
Edison cried for hours and then he wrote in his diary: ‘Thomas Alva Edison was…
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