Tag Archives: blogging

Bastards!

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I, along with what is probably half of the WordPress blogging population, despise the new block editor.

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I refuse to use it and have happily switched back to classic every time I compose posts on my phone.

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On the app, it’s one easy click and bam! Back to the simple, no frills way to post I’ve enjoyed since the day I got here. And then it happened. While fritzing around on my phone and seeing 11 of my apps needed updating today…. I scrolled down to WP.

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Noooo! The WordPress team assured me I could keep my beloved classic if I chose… and now I feel betrayed. Needless to say I didn’t update the app, which may forestall the inevitable. But for someone like me who has photo heavy blogs and doesn’t want all the added headaches of blocks, this is a nightmare.

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I’m not! No matter how many times you try to shove them down my throat. And hey, if you like and want the new editor? Fine. Enjoy it with my compliments… but why can’t they leave the old option open for those of us who don’t? Happiness Engineers my ass.

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Going out on a limb…. Part 3.

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You’re back! Even though your eyes hurt from rolling so far up in your head? I appreciate that. Try not to think of me differently, I’m still the same margarita swilling, rock obsessed, chicken loving  Mainiac (capital M thank you very much) you know and love. This is just another quirk to add to the list.

So that was strange experience number two. My reading with a psychic. It seems odd all these years later to even admit that out loud, but the simple act of rereading my blog from that time has lightened my heart again. If I took nothing else away from that weird and wonderful night it was the fact that our loved ones are never really gone.  I truly believe that now…. and it’s a great comfort.

So here’s my last episode of that spiritual adventure. The aftermath.

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I think I opened the floodgates….

Added: Wednesday, January 30th 2013 at 5:29am by rivergirl

Since my experience last Saturday, I’ve told a few close friends about the psychic I saw and how she made a believer out of me… if just for one night. I was a bit fearful of their reactions… expecting eye rolls and chuckles. But I swear it was like they were all waiting for that particular door to open so they could tell their stories.

It was completely bizarre…. A totally no nonsense conservative told me of visitations from his late mother. An old girlfriend I went to school with and thought I knew everything about, admitted she’s been seeing a psychic for 15 years. A down to earth grandmother of 7 told me about her numerous feelings of deja vu. A man that works with my husband, the most rigidly analytical mind in the office, brought these books for me to read and confessed he is a devout believer.

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I skimmed a few chapters of these and think this woman is a flake……but whatever. It was the thought that counts.

I guess what really struck me is most people don’t feel comfortable talking about this subject until they know you’re on board.

So… I’m putting it out there.

I told you of my mind blowing re-connection with my late father. Are any of you willing to share your other worldly experiences?

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I’d love to hear your stories… if you’re willing to share. And yes, I have a few more strange things in the archives. Experiences from time spent at my mother’s bedside during her last days in hospice. Maybe I’ll post those as well….

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Going out on a limb… Part 2.

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If you’re back this morning it must mean you want to know how my reading with the psychic went back in 2013. Funny, eight years later and I still have to pinch myself when I think about it. Roll your eyes, scoff, write me off as a nutcase… I don’t care. I would have done the same if I hadn’t experienced it myself. You know me…I’m a pragmatic chicka. A realist. There have only been a handful of things in my life I can’t explain…. and this was one of them. So jump aboard the crazy train and thank Swinged Cat  for opening up my archive with his request for sharing weird experiences.

My evening with spirits…. **Friends only**

 January 29th 2013 at 9:47am by rivergirl

I’m not sure I know where to begin.

And if I start rambling, please forgive me…it was a very emotional experience.

The psychic was a lovely woman who made me feel completely at ease. There was no incense, no crystal ball, just a table and the prerequisite box of tissues. She instructed me at the beginning of the session not to volunteer any information. Only to acknowledge or negate what she said. So for all you skeptics, there was no way she was pulling details of my life from me since all I said for an entire hour was yes or no.

I have to say it felt surreal. The moment we started she told me there was a man, who she felt was my father, waiting for me. I won’t go into all the details since none of you knew him….suffice it to say she had him down cold. There was nothing she related that wasn’t completely accurate. She had his personality, his job, his appearance, his love for my mother, his wartime experience, his poor health, his dry sense of humor, his love of the sea. She saw him surrounded by books, artist’s brushes, animals and gardens. She spoke of his grief over the loss of his brother when he was young, of his regrets in not being able to watch me grow up, his sense of duty towards his widowed mother and awful sister.

(And let me tell you…she had her down pat also. My hateful aunt who the psychic called spoiled, entitled and bitter. Fittingly, she is as alone in death as she was in life. Nice to know you really do reap what you sow. 👍)

I think the most amazing thing I came away from this experience with was the knowledge that our loved ones are always with us. My father said he was glad I had found a good man who loved me. That we were secure financially, that we were happy. He knew my husband had been in uniform and was older than I. He spoke of the big building project we had undertaken (the barn!) and how well we worked together as a team. He said he had been worried for me in my early teenage years right after he died because I, how shall we say….ran a little wild. (Which I totally did!) He said he appreciated the fact that I care for my mother… and to please have patience with her… as he had to, for she is not a strong woman.

The psychic told me of my father being there the night of the Marine Corps ball and how lovely he thought I looked in my dress. Of how proud he was of me for finding my own voice after so many years of being a shy wallflower. (Yeah….I know, hard to believe but at one time I was.) He wanted me to know that our beloved beagle Hiram was beside him now as he had been in life….which made the animal lover in me rejoice. He told me to lead the life I wanted to lead…that it is the regrets we take with us. And even though I never felt neglected as a child, his biggest regret was that he worked too hard and too long and didn’t spend enough time with my mother and me. He spoke of many little childhood memories I had all but forgotten. He spoke of the grief he carried over the loss of my brothers and sister. (My mother had multiple miscarriages early in their marriage) As I said…it was surreal.

Though I did choke up a few times….I didn’t babble. Which is surprising because even after all these years, I can’t often speak of my father without crying. I think I might have been too stunned for tears. My jaw was probably hanging open half the time because even though this was exactly what I had hoped for…part of me didn’t believe it could really happen. I’d happily crossed over into the Twilight Zone… and no one could have been more surprised. But aside from the other worldly vibe? The over all feeling of the evening was peace.

And love….above all, love.

For 35 years I have missed my father…. and wished over and over again that he could have shared my life as a teenager, as a young woman, as an adult. And now, the most remarkable thing I realized?

 He has.

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I’m going out on a limb here….

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I’ve been meaning to share this with you for a while now… ever since Swinged Cat  asked me about it in the comments of this blog. 

“It” being strange and/or supernatural events. If that’s not your thing, no problem….  feel free to skip the next few posts.  It wasn’t my thing either. Until it happened to me. Not so easy to ignore then.

As most of you know I lost my father when I was 14.  I was an only child of older parents and a total daddy’s girl.

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Dad and me, baby

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His loss shook my world to it’s core. Heck, I’m 57 years old, and to be honest I still haven’t gotten over it.  Anyway…. back in 2013 my best friend gave me a very odd Christmas gift.  “An Evening with Spirits” which was an hour long private session with a psychic. Now before you roll your eyes (like I did) it should be noted this was her daughter’s old college roommate and not some loon on the street corner. She’s traveled the world, studied numerous religions and spiritual disciplines, worked with the most respected people in the field ( you’re rolling your eyes again, I know…  because I did it as well). But I assure you, my girlfriend is the most down to earth, no nonsense, grounded New Englander you’re apt to meet so if she said this woman was the real deal and forked out a major amount of money for a reading? I had to go along.

The following is copied from my old blog site, and while I normally don’t do that type of thing…. it was written right after the experience and was a harbinger of things to come. Read on if you’re interested.

A Twilight Zone moment….. For Friends Only

Added: Saturday, January 26th 2013 at 6:38am by rivergirl

Friends only because I really don’t need a larger crowd of people thinking I’m crazy.

As you know, I’m using my unique Christmas present this weekend and will be visiting the psychic I posted about earlier. Me, seeing a psychic. And they say pigs don’t fly.

So yesterday I’m sitting on the couch reading an interesting book about Tibet. It was full of legend and lore and spirits and demons…..which got me thinking about my upcoming reading. Basically I was wondering if it would be amazing or a total waste of time.  Contact with my late father would be a dream, but we all know how rarely those come true. Flooded with bittersweet memories of my father, I put the book down and looked up at our mantle where an antique English clock of my father’s sits.

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It’s a pretty little thing that my mother gave us 29 years ago when my husband and I moved into our first home.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. Hasn’t for the entire 29 years we’ve owned it and since it has a rather special pedigree….

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I never wanted to take it to just any repair shop to be fixed. Call me lazy, call me cheap… but there you have it…. it doesn’t work.

Until yesterday when I was sitting on the couch thinking about my father and the damn thing started ticking.

I’m not kidding…. I almost had a heart attack.

My jaw dropped, and I think I started shaking.

I jumped up to make sure I wasn’t hearing things and I swear by all that’s holy the stupid thing was working.  After more than 29 years.

WTH!

Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Crazy lady hearing things? I’d be the first to say so if it hadn’t happened to me. The clock ticked for almost half an hour, and naturally stopped right before my husband got home from work.

Other people talk about experiencing weird things like this and I scoff. But I’m here to tell you when it happens to you? All bets are off.

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So, Skoon.

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( Yes, I’m really going to blog about cat litter. Dudley is a new family member and the boring minutia of his daily life must be shared, just like mine. Enjoy! )

The weird cat litter came in the mail today.

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And it must be seriously odd, because look at the expression on that cat’s face.

First impression?

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The pieces are large, tis true… but their claim of being dust free is an unadulterated lie. A veritable lung clogging cloud rose from filling the box which you can see by how much stuck to the sides.

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The very high sides of yet another box I purchased in the ongoing how do I stop the litter flinging saga. This is number 5…. but who’s counting?

As for Dudley –

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He wasn’t impressed. After walking around it a few times…

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He put two feet in…

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Then turned around and said, WTH mom? You can’t blame him, the poor guy has had a new toilet every week since he moved in. But I’m a determined soul, and will figure out a solution if it kills me. Me, and my wallet.

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The April squirrel.

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In the continuing saga that is my kitchen calendar ( Bless you my loyal readers, the content here at River’s World is sometimes less than thought provoking ) we have now arrived at April.

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The rodent featured this month seems to be knee deep in a pagan celebration of spring. But seeing that we live in Maine, where May can bring snow …. our resident red bitch from Hell is probably not celebrating in kind.

No, more than likely she’s gathering up dead grasses and leaves in anticipation of building a nest for her future demon offspring in our one of our eaves.

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The battle continues.

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It’s official…. I’ve seen everything now.

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Apologies to my male readers, but this really needs to be shared.

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Kegel exercises have now gone digital.

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Yes, you read that correctly.

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Video games for your pelvic floor. And thanks to me, you’ll never look at a joystick the same way again.

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Easy to follow directions are helpful.

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But the reviews are a complete riot.

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Almost worth the Hell I’ll have to pay for clicking on them.

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Now I totally want to make my significant other fly across the room.

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Ha!

Women rule, no doubt about it.

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Get thee to a hair salon!

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Covid has changed our lives in a myriad of ways, and while I’d like to say I’ve come to appreciate the smaller things and learned I don’t need things like dinner out, travel, shopping trips and concerts ( though I do, I really do! ) what I’ve discovered is somewhat different.

Basically I need two things.

#1….. I need to step away from the bacon, cupcakes and potato chips. Who knew sitting on the couch blogging while stuffing your face with snacks for a year could lead to none of your clothes fitting properly ? Not me, that’s for sure.

And #2….. I need to find a hair salon ASAP. Because along with socializing and vacations, the other thing I haven’t done in a year is get my hair cut.

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Last spring it was healthy and perfectly layered, this spring it’s dry, full of split ends and suffering from my crazed butchering with the kitchen scissors.

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No layers, no shape, no bounce. I’ve never gone this long without a stylist working their magic and it’s beginning to show.

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And no, I haven’t touched the color, it’s just different lighting in the photos.

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To be honest I thought a solid year of unchecked growth would result in more inches but it only seems to have lengthened on the top. Leave it to me to have weirdo hair.

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Staking his claim.

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You never know what part of the house cats will gravitate toward. We’ve had desk felines..

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Bed felines….

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Chair felines….

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Bubba on chair (2)

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Even motorcycle felines.

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And now it looks like our newest addition has chosen my mother’s old bookcase.

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Yes, Lord Dudley Mountcatten has laid claim to this spot in our bedroom window.

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From it he can recline in the warmth of the sun….

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And hover over the birds who seek shelter in the bushes directly underneath.

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I think I’m going to have to remove that planter. It seems to be migrating closer to the edge everyday.

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Time Traveler Part 2.

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More words from the year of my birth.

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Clearly I was born in a strange year.

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Consigliere?

Leave the gun, take the cannoli’ Best movie quote… ever.

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Cryoprobe.

I don’t know what it’s used for, but my sphincter is tightening just thinking about it.

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Delete key. Now we’re talking! I’ve been correcting my husband’s reports and letters for 37 years… it is my very favorite button.

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Diddly squat. A strange turn of phrase if ever there was one.

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