Every now and then I repost something from when I first started my blog to share. This was first posted Sept. 24, 2022.
Coreopsis 6-e
“You were right in your assumption,” she spoke louder so he could hear her.
“Never?”
“No.”
“I envy you.” He drew a sharp breath as the cold water caressed his face.
“You know nothing about my personal life, don’t envy me.”
“You have freedom.” He reached out and touched her face. “Freedom to choose a mate that will be good to you and love you.”
“Your wife doesn’t love you?”
“Nor I her.”
“That must make for an interesting relationship?” She tried to keep the pace of the conversation as quick as she could.
“There is something about you; I don’t know what it is.” He gazed at her for a moment. “I feel like you can see right through me. As if you can see my secrets and my deepest fears; as if I am transparent.” He closed his eyes. “What do you see?”
Orion didn’t know how right he was.
She shook off all the thoughts rolling through her mind. “Shall I tell the Prince what he wants to hear or shall I be honest with the man?”
His voice was almost a whisper when he answered her. “Be honest with me. I feel not enough people are honest with me.” His clothes were covered with sweat.
She closed her eyes, “your son is your only source of joy.” She saw him reading to his son at different stages of life. In the blink of an eye, she saw them lying together asleep on a couch, his son wrapped in his arms. “Your sister is your sanctuary.” She saw him lying in his sister’s room. She saw them talking as they walked through a garden. She wouldn’t tell him the other things she saw. “Outwardly you’re a corpse. Bones wrapped in flesh. Your eyes are dark. They are lifeless and empty. You have wondered why you haven’t died. You wish death to end your physical pain but it never comes.”
His blood ran cold as she talked. How did she know all of this?
“I have never met anyone like you. You are different. I find it easy to be around you.”
“I was beginning to think you couldn’t engage in a conversation.” She smiled.
“There you go being a tease again.” He gagged. She helped him raise up. His breathing was rapid and shallow. She held him up until her arm gave out. Once he was able to lay back down on the couch, he faded to sleep.
When she had gathered her wits about her, she got up collecting a suit case from the closet where the porter put her bags. When she emerged from the bathroom, she had on lime green pajama’s and matching socks.
“Someone noticed my matching socks, look at you.” He ribbed.
“I just find it odd when a man matches. Usually they just put on whatever is in the floor. Well, the men in my life pick up whatever is in the floor.” She shivered, “is there no hot water on this train?”
He smiled, “Luke warm at best.”
She plunked her suitcase back in the closet, quickly folding her arms across her chest; then placed her hands under her arms. “Oh my Sweet Jesus.”
“Lay down.” He instructed calmly.
She sat there a moment just shivering. He got up, kneeling she thought, but in reality falling in front of her. She slowly lay down. He opened a compartment under her seat. It was full of pillows and blankets. Gently, he lifted her head placing it back down on a pillow.
“Do you want to dry your hair?”
“I never do. I don’t even own a hair dryer.” She chattered.
He then took out a blanket wrapping her in it. He even tucked it under her feet.
“I don’t think I can survive another shower like that.” She closed her eyes, snuggling into the blanket.
Orion became dizzy. He steadied himself with his hand on the edge of her seat. His lungs began to burn with a different ache. “What kind of perfume are you wearing?”
“Why?” His question caught her off guard.
His breath jammed in his chest. All he could feel was his heart pound in his ears. His senses were flooded with her smell.
“Please don’t wear it any more.”
“That’s all I brought.” She opened her eyes. His back was toward her now. She watched his head weave on top of his neck.
“I’ll buy you some at the next stop.”
“Is it that bad?” She giggled.
He covered his mouth with his hand to conceal his rapid breathing. She was afraid he was going to be sick again. “Quite to the contrary.” He crawled on his hands and knees over to his seat, stretching out with his back to her.
Okay, she thought. That’s never happened to me before. She shrugged it off, drifting into sleep as she became warm.
My last weight loss journey: here we go again
Growing up, my dad suffered with horrible acid reflux. He called it the ‘strong neck’ or ‘sour neck’. The 2 were interchangeable.
Many years ago I went to the doctor and had a barium swallow performed. I was in my early 30’s? Scared and stupid. Had to drink this chalky white stuff, got strapped to a table and moved around like a pour art painting.
A barium swallow is an X-ray imaging test using a chalky barium drink to coat and highlight the throat (pharynx) and esophagus, allowing doctors to diagnose issues like difficulty swallowing (dysphagia), reflux (GERD), ulcers, blockages, tumors, or muscle disorders in the upper gastrointestinal (GI) tract using fluoroscopy (moving X-rays). Patients drink barium, and radiologists watch it move, taking X-rays to see the structure and function of the upper GI tract. *Google Overview
When it was over, the doctor tossed a pamphlet at me about GERDS and left. I guess my suffering wasn’t high class enough for him? Or I was intrupting his lunch break? In my 30 something head, I told myself if this wasn’t important enough for a doctor, then I was making too big a deal out of it.
As I get farther into my 50’s, I’ve learned that your health is only important to you. And your family, if you are fortunate enough to have a family that gives a damn.
If you read my blog often, I’ve been adding more protein to my diet. There is a history of diabetes in my family tree. High carbohydrate foods are not really the best foods to combat diabetes.
Well guess who’s showed up for dinner?
This makes twice in 4 years that I have had a prolonged period of acid reflux.
I get so discouraged sometimes. It seems like I get one thing going only to have something else show up.
Here is an overviews for you to enjoy.
Foods to Enjoy (Triggers to Avoid/Limit)
- Grains: Oatmeal, brown rice, whole-grain bread, quinoa.
- Proteins: Skinless chicken, turkey, fish, tofu, beans, lentils, egg whites.
- Vegetables: Green veggies, root veggies (carrots, sweet potatoes), celery, cucumber, lettuce.
- Fruits: Bananas, melons, apples, pears, berries (non-citrus).
- Dairy: Skim milk, low-fat yogurt, low-fat cheeses (in moderation).
- Fats (Healthy): Avocados, nuts, seeds, olive oil, fatty fish (in small amounts).
Foods & Drinks to Avoid
- High-Fat Foods: Fried foods, fatty meats (sausage, bacon, high-fat beef).
- Acidic Foods: Tomatoes, citrus fruits, tomato-based sauces.
- Irritants: Chocolate, mint, onions, garlic, spicy foods.
- Beverages: Coffee (caffeinated & decaf), alcohol, carbonated drinks, chocolate milk, orange juice.
Lifestyle Tips
Eat smaller meals more frequently, Avoid eating right before bed, Stay upright for a few hours after meals, Chew gum after eating, and Maintain a healthy weight.
Always consult your doctor for personalized advice, as triggers vary by individual.
Cottage Cheese Fudge?
Am I kidding? No. And this is really good. My only complaint is that I couldn’t get the cottage cheese creamy enough. My fudge was a little lumpy.


1 bag of chocolate chips, melted. I melted mine double boiler style. You can melt them in a microwave; just make sure not to cook them.
1 cup of cottage cheese blended until smooth.
Mix together
Pour out on a pan with wax paper.
Refrigerate until set. Slice and eat.
The chase
Big black dog, nipping at my heals.
I know you.
You chase me.
Bite me.
Catch me.
Smother me.
Your weight is more than I can bare.
We fight.
Wrestle.
I run. You chase.
I hide. You sniff me out.
If I’m inside, you’re outside.
If I’m outside; you’re inside,
waiting to pounce.
Big black dog, nipping at my heals.
Can we be friends?
Can you give me peace?
Only when I lose myself where I can’t find me.
*Doyle used the phrase ‘the black dog’ as a metaphor for depression in his Sherlock stories. Many times Watson refers to Holmes being chased by it. Google says that it was popularized by Winston Churchill.
Coreopsis 6-d
Orion was lying on his side, staring at her. She had the most adorable round face, with a playful little chin.
“What?” She asked with her nose still buried in her book. When he didn’t answer, she looked up. He was breathing heavily, “Orion?”
“Nothing,” he thought for a moment. “What color is your hair?”
“I call it dishwater blonde.”
“May I see?”
She looked at him almost confused. But she did take her hair down. To Orion when she shook her head, it was in slow motion. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders resting on her breasts.
“It’s beautiful.” He panted.
“Thank you. I don’t like it because it’s not a color.” She ran her fingers through it. “When I look in the mirror I see strands of white, blonde, gold, and light brown.”
“That is why I like it; it suits you. Hair as complex as the personality wearing it.”
“What would you know about the complexity of my personality?”
He moaned, “Based on the women I know. You are the most complex.”
“Would you care to explain?” She closed her book staring at him with utmost curiosity both professionally and personally. She put her book on the seat beside of her then went over kneeling in front of Orion. He was sweating profusely. She wiped his face with her hand, “Orion.”
“My mother is a loyal devoted loving woman.” He panted, “My sister would have been better suited to meet you. She is in it for the now.”
“Instant gratification?” she got up to get some water from the bathroom.
He reached for her, “no, don’t.”
She held his hand as he struggled, “then keep talking to me.”
“Not instant gratification,” he continued his conversation about his sister. “She’s willing to wait on something’s. I call it the ‘Now Factor’ it’s whatever gives her the quickest greatest amount of pleasure.”
“Why would she have been better suited to accompany me?”
“This train makes five stops before we get to our destination. She would have enjoyed the shopping.” He groaned in pain.
“Then why are you with me?”
“Honestly. My parents are worried to death. I think they thought it might help me.”
“I can understand that.” He gripped her hand with amazing strength as he continued to breathe heavily. “What is wrong with shopping?”
“Nothing, it just isn’t something I enjoy.”
“You don’t strike me as a man’s man?”
“Why is that such a bad thing?” He hissed.
“I never said it was.”
There was a long period of silence; he was trying to breathe; trying to keep some of his self-composure. “The other woman in my life is my wife. She’s just, for lack of a better word, cruel.”
“I thought you said you ‘was’ married once? I took that the mean that you used to be married.”
“I did.”
Sarah could see that keeping him talking was actually helping him through this. She was confused as to how to keep it rolling. She wanted to call him a big freak and a weirdo but she didn’t. Instead she asked, “Then why marry her?”
“I didn’t”, he gagged, “have a choice.”
“Dr. Carter asked me if I would come to visit him. He told me he worked for the House of Morian. Am I to assume you are the Crown Prince? With the people that I’ve met on this adventure calling you Lord and sir”
“I am.” His chest was on fire. His lungs burned and his ribs ached.
“I’ve read reports that you are ill. It always did amaze me that the press makes so light of it. And Jack is an excellent doctor, for him not to be able to help you is dumbfounding.”
“Why are you here?”
“Jack only told me he needed some advice.”
“Jack?” He scoffed. “He has worked at the palace for 12 years; I never knew his first name was Jack.” He gagged, “Oh dear God make it stop.”
“You really should let me go so I can go to the bathroom. Water and a towel would be really helpful right now. Or I can call the porter.”
“Keep talking to me.”
He squeezed out, “are you married? You never did answer me.”
Pour art 2
I did another pour art project and I hated it.



Coreopsis 6-c
Sarah studied Orion’s face as he stared at his glass of wine. He didn’t look happy at all. There were no little laugh lines around his mouth or eyes. The flesh around his eyes looked dark and sunk in. He reminded her of a sack of bones. Every time he moved it seemed to pain him.
He looked up at her. “What?”
She shook her head, “Nothing. Sorry.”
Even his eyes were lifeless and dull.
The waiter entered with their soup.
“This smells wonderful.” She purred.
“Thank you,” replied the waiter. “I will extend your compliment.”
Orion took three spoonfuls of the soup. He didn’t touch the bread, and only sipped at the wine.
“Not hungry, my lord?”
“Please, don’t.” He sighed, “My name is Orion.”
“As you wish.”
“No, I’m not.” He sat back in his chair. The waiter removed his bowl. Orion looked across the table at Sarah. “Do not hurry because of me.”
“I won’t because this is really good.” She wiggled in her chair.
He smiled almost laughing.
“He can smile.” She teased.
After dinner, he escorted her back to the sleeping room of the train car. He took off his white coat exposing a white tee shirt underneath. He hung the coat in the closet where the porter stored her bags. He then kicked off his shoes side by side as if he had bent over and placed them there.
“White socks,” she remarked.
“I was in a white mood this morning.”
“I see.”
He turned, walking back to his respective seat. A groan escaped him as he clutched his abdomen.
She watched him, “are you okay?”
He leaned over his lap. She sat down beside of him rubbing his back. She could feel all of the vertebrae along his spine. It amazed her that he was able to stand upright.
“It will pass.”
“Is there anything you need me to do?”
“No, I will be fine.”
She got up, returning to her seat. He stretched out, falling asleep. At some point he opened his eyes. She was still fighting with her book, but had gotten a pen and was making notes as she read.
“Feeling better?”
He sat up. “Food makes me sick.”
She placed her pen inside the book, closing it. “That isn’t natural. Our bodies are designed to use food. Does all food make you sick?”
“Don’t play doctor on me.”
“As you wish,” she opened her book continuing to read.
He got up disappearing through a door beside the one that lead to the dining room. When he returned, he said, “That is the bathroom.”
“Thank you, I am sure that will come in handy.” She didn’t look up from her book.
“I’m sorry. I had no right to snap at you. I will not let our resident doctor near me.”
“Afraid of doctors?”
“When I first became ill, no one could diagnose me so I gave up.” He stretched back out on the seat.
She looked up from her book. “You don’t make noise when you sleep.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just an observation; I’ve never met anyone like you. You lay down and that’s it.”
He rolled onto his side to face her. “What noises do you make?”
“I moan and groan; so much so that you might want to get another car. I toss and turn. I have horrible allergies sometimes so much so that I can’t breathe and I wake myself up snoring. Most mornings I wake up more exhausted than when I went to bed.” She paused for a moment, “and I have horrible nightmares that makes sleep difficult.”
“What makes you think I will be the one looking for a new place to sleep?”
“I’m not uprooting myself to accommodate you. If you don’t like it, leave.” She wiggled her nose.
“Do that again.”
She looked stunned, “what?”
“Wiggle your nose.” He smiled.
“Why?”
“I like it.”
“I shall not wiggle my nose until it’s time.” She wiggled on the seat.
“You big tease,” He smiled.
“So what if I am?” She stiffened up at that comment.
“Are you married?”
She scoffed, “what does that have to do with this conversation.”
He took a deep breath, “no.”
“What about you?”
“Once,” He paused running a finger over the white mark on his ring finger. “Do you ever sleep? We’ve been on this train 12 hours. I haven’t even witnessed you yawn.”
“You have been asleep most of these 12 hours; you would be hard pressed to know when I sleep.” He kept changing the subject on her so she thought she would point out his obvious oversights.
He just looked at her, anticipating her answer. She noticed that his chest was moving rapidly and that he really wasn’t focused on anything.
“Not much.”
“Interesting?”
“How so?”
“It’s just interesting. He rolled back over facing the ceiling. She assumed he was asleep. He didn’t move a muscle. She got lost in her book again.
Pour art 1
As I was scrolling through YouTube, I came across a video of someone doing a pour painting. As I watched; the thought filled my head, “I can do that.”








Lost Past; A Star Trek Story
Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation.
Who’s dreaming now?
Westerfield appeared to be sleeping soundly in his bed. He let out a moan.
“No, no.” His dream was more intense than any dream he had ever had. Voices filled his head.
“You will choose the first to die.” The voices spoke, overlapping voices that sounded almost demonic.
“No. No one needs to die.”
“Yes, someone will die. People have died. The blood of many will be spilled in the name of Westerfield.” He moaned. “No.”
“You are a bad person, Westerfield. The bad in you out weighs the good. You CHOOSE!”
“No.” He persisted.”
“Will it be your old friend Captain Picard?” Picard’s image floated across his mind.
“No.” He thrashed in the bed.
“Will it be your nagging sagging battle axe of a wife?”
He saw his wife waving her fist at him, screaming at the top of her lungs because he stayed late at the office again. He felt a surge of bitterness. “No.”
“Will it be your daughter? She was supposed to be a boy anyway. Now who is going to carry on the Westerfield line?” She was walking down the aisle with the man he wouldn’t have picked for her.
“No.”
“Will it be that secretary that you shipped off? She tried to bring charges against you because you got her pregnant. Just think about what that would have done to your reputation in Star Fleet.” He was giving her the envelope with her transfer papers in it. She was near tears. But would not give up the child inside of her.
“No “
“How about your son-in-law? He is the monster that married your daughter.
That bastard. Unfit to marry the only Westerfield left on Earth. TRASH!” He saw them sitting on a bench kissing in his backyard. It made him sick to think of his daughter with him.
“No.” He wildly kicked the covers off of him.
“I know. What about Data? You hate Data. It’s no secret. He knows it. You know it. He got something you couldn’t and you hate him for it. Make him pay.” He saw Sher and Data talking. She was smiling that big smile that he loved to see. Data was holding her hand across the table. He filled with bitterness at the thought of Data kissing her.
“No.”
“Well then how about your granddaughter? She should have been a boy.” She went skipping across the grass. Her little blonde locks bouncing as she hopped.
Westerfield smiled to himself. If there was one person in the world he could love, it was her. She didn’t hold it against him that he didn’t get promoted or that his hair was turning gray. She held no animosity toward him.
“No.”
“Then who?”
“I have never killed anyone.”
“No?” Questioned the voices. “But you tried.”
“No!” He shouted waking himself up. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears. There was no one in the room but him.