The Saga of Freewriting — Ten Minutes and Counting!


Freewriting again today. What is the subject? Truly the first thing coming into my mind.

For just a few years, I’ve worked on a manuscript, “Chattahoochee Child.” At first, there wasn’t a plot. Only characters. Now, I have the plot although I keep procrastinating about it. Here goes.

The story is placed along the coast of South Carolina, and the rivers of the Chattahoochee River, Columbus, GA.

Basing much of the story on characters I knew. For example, the protagonist is named Rebecca. All of her life she hungers for the love of her mother. The older she became, the worse the relationship with her mother developed. When Rebecca marries at 18, she moves away from her mother’s home, only to be told by her cruel mother that ‘she cannot take anything that belongs to her when she leaves, with exception of her clothes.’

Packing up her clothing, she asked her mother if she can take some of her childhood photos and her senior year picture.

“No. You ain’t taking nothing like that. I’m gonna burn all your pictures.”

Devastated at her mother’s cruelty, Rebecca leaves the mill village of Bibb City, refusing to look back. When her mother finds her, she realizes the relationship needs repairing.

Going back to her mother’s house, Rebecca is alone. Her framed senior picture is gone. When she asked her mother what happened to her pictures, her mother laughs a wicked laughter. “I told you I was gonna burn ’em and I did. Just a few weeks ago. There ain’t no pictures of you inside the house.”

Rebecca rushes outside. Tears pour down her face. She rushes to her car and leaves.

The soldier she married is fighting a war. Rebecca realizes it is time to bury the past and move on; however, when she sees her mother again, she is slapped, belittled and told she will never amount to nothing. Her mother claims she wrote a letter to her husband overseas, telling him Rebecca is sleeping around with every man in town.

“I hope he never speaks to you again. You ain’t never gonna keep a man happy.”

“Just like you, Mom. Right? You don’t want me to have any happiness. I suppose you want me to walk in your shoes, but I refuse to do that. I will have a life You will never destroy me!”

Leaving her mother’s home again, Rebecca decides that some people are not blessed to have a good mother. She vows to enter into a new journey while waiting for her husband to return home from war.

When he does, Rebecca discovers the man she married and waited for is a changed, tormented man. He loses his temper quickly, jumping almost out of his skin whenever a car backfires, or fireworks happen. At night, while sleeping, he straddles Rebecca, choking her while saying ‘Charlie is coming…’

Rebecca discovers her life is still not under her control.

This freewriting for 10 minutes is hard, but it is something I am forcing myself to do in hopes I will regain the confidence I once had in writing.

Life this summer was so demanding and unpredictable. My husband had surgery in late May. He is still struggling to regain his strength. The summer of 2016 was like a roaring, twirling tornado to me. All the plans for a summer of fun were changed, due to the demands of caring for my husband while struggling to keep the house and finances under control. Normally, during the summer I go to the beach on a weekly basis. My first visit to the beach this year was in September. Isn’t it strange how life is sometimes out of control.

Oops. Ten minutes is gone. That’s it for today.

 

FREEWRITING — T Minus 10 Minutes


And counting. My writing assignment for today is to freewrite. What is freewriting? Simple. You get either your computer or a paper and pen and write. Whatever comes to your mind. You are not supposed to edit or correct. JUST WRITE.

Easier said than done. When I type a mistake, I always go back and correct it – just like now. What to write today?

Heck if I know. I’m simply allowing my fingers to dance across the keyboard. I’ve written 80 words so far.

About? NOTHING!

Freewriting. I suppose I’ll write about goals since that is the topic that is dancing inside my head. My goal is to complete the story I started way too many years ago. Did I say it was a story? More like a title without plot. Yes, I had characters, but did not understand what the real story was until my mother died.

My mother died suddenly on 9-11… That is, a year after 9-11. She died on September 11, 2002. The day after she died, I received a phone call from my estranged sister. Her son told me “Granny is gone.”

His next statement horrified me. Apparently my mother died with some concerns from his lips, and my estranged sister’s lips. Both wanted to know IF I thought there would be an autopsy.

You must understand. I was home in bed with acute bronchial asthma. I was taking Prednisone. Prednisone doesn’t do to me what it does to others. Prednisone does not make me want to eat everything within my reach, nor does it have other side effects. There are two side effects I experience with Prednisone and they are cognitive abilities and the ability not to sleep. Every time I take Prednisone, I cannot communicate or think with an articulate brain, nor do I sleep.

My sisters comments “Do you think they’ll do an autopsy,” left me wondering. At the time, I failed to answer their question, but I must say — that cold, uncalculated question left me horrified.

Oops. Ten minutes are up. I suppose I will write again tomorrow, since I have a challenge this week to write freestyle 10 minutes daily.

Did I catch your attention? More later! My freewriting time is up – for today!

 

Reflections on Thanksgiving


Dearest Readers:

Today is Tuesday, November 22, 2016. Two days before Thanksgiving. Today, I would like to reflect on the holiday of Thanksgiving.

As a young girl, my family of four girls, a father and mother, would celebrate Thanksgiving with our maternal grandparents. My father would either work, or celebrate with his mother until her death. Every Thanksgiving we were a family; unfortunately, extremely dysfunctional but together. My maternal grandmother did the cooking. I helped. Never could I make homemade biscuits like my grandmother, although I tried. I’ve decided the only dessert I can make from scratch are cookies and cake. Forget the biscuits, or the dinner rolls I attempted a few weeks ago. I used a ‘foolproof’ recipe. Foolproof, alright…definitely did not work for me. I baked those rolls in anticipation of having homemade dinner rolls for Thanksgiving. Tasting one after they baked, I decided the only way to enjoy these rolls was to toss them into the trash! Mission accomplished! My foolproof recipe certainly fooled me! If I serve rolls (and I doubt I do) they will be store-bought, not made from my hands!

After marriage, I made the Thanksgiving dinner at our home. By now, my mother and I were estranged. Twice, I attempted to have Thanksgiving dinner at my mother’s house, or apartment, wherever she lived at that time. My mother moved lots. Never was there a place for me to call home with her.  Both times, we had dinner together, we had words. Not kind words. Just words. She always wanted to tell me what to do. How to treat my husband…how to care for my child…how to live my life. She wanted me to walk in her shoes. I refused. After our last Thanksgiving together, I decided I would have Thanksgiving dinner at our home in Mt. Pleasant, SC. New traditions were made. My dad was invited to every Thanksgiving. For many years, he sat at the dinner table. His chair to the left of where I sat.

Although I didn’t think my dad noticed, every year our dinner table was sat for a formal occasion. Lace tablecloths on the table. Dinner napkins folded in a design. My finest china was used. The table was always dressed – formally. Forks to the left of the plate. Knives to the right.

Dad always said grace. We held hands while he prayed. On one occasion, he made the compliment to me: “Barbara. You really know how to cook and how to set a dining room table. I always look forward to dinners at your home.”

I was flabbergasted. Rarely did I get compliments from my parents.

On Thanksgiving, 2016, the table will be set for a formal occasion. My dad will not sit in his chair. Still reserved for him, I lost my dad on July 6, 1999. Our last Thanksgiving together, he struggled to swallow his food. How I miss him.

This year, my menu includes:

Roasted turkey breast

Mashed potatoes

sautéed green beans

Cornbread dressing

Macaroni and cheese

Gravy

Pineapple delight

Dessert:

Homemade Chocolate Pound Cake

Homemade Carrot Cake

Definitely not a Weight Watchers menu, but I will choose wisely. After all, this is Thanksgiving. A time to give thanks for life. Health. Happiness. Friendship. And many, many more moments of Thanksgiving.

No, I will not have my son, his wife or grandson at our dining room table. They have an open invitation to come, but somehow, it doesn’t happen. I really do not know IF my son celebrates Thanksgiving. I certainly hope he and his family do, but they are ‘busy with their lives…’ Oh, how they are missed!

To all of you reading this I wish you a joyous Happy Thanksgiving. If you are having dinner with your friends and family, remember to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. If they are doing or saying something you might not approve of, just breathe while giving Thanks you are together for this special occasion and holiday. Every year, I breathe while wishing my family could celebrate holidays together.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. If you have a loved one overseas in a combat, or military setting, pray for their safety. Happy Thanksgiving to all of us.

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Hiking My Dreams at Grotto Falls:


Dearest Readers:

A few years ago, I wrote this story, managing to get it published many times. I’m hopeful you will enjoy the story as much as I did writing it, and hiking at Grotto Falls. If you are ever in Gatlinburg, treat yourself to this fabulous hike.

Hiking My Dreams at Grotto Falls:

In June 2005, I kissed the corporate world of America goodbye. Tired of planning and coordinating events, answering to corporate rules and schedules, I decided it was time to follow my dreams.

So, off my husband and I go to Gatlinburg, Tennessee where I’ve scheduled my first research trip for my new career as a travel writer. While driving through the mountains, we discover a sign. Grotto Falls just ahead. I tap Phil on the shoulders. “Let’s stop and take a hike. Phil looks at my feet, still embraced in sandals. “Don’t you think you should change your shoes?” He asked.

Reluctantly, I rush to the back seat to get my socks and sneakers, furious that he is still telling me what to do. His controlling nature is about to get the best of me, but I take it in my stride. With digital cameras ready, we stroll up the mountain as a slight rain kisses our faces with raindrops. At first, we could stand under the trees and not get wet. The more we plunge into the falls, the wetter we get. Taking our time while gasping for breath, I shoot several photographs, continuing our ‘easy’ hike. Decaying trees, fungus and moss, along with the thickness of the woods make interesting images revealing a story my fingers itch to write.

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Our first tease of a waterfall at Grotto Falls.

 

What seems to be an endless walk going nowhere takes us at least an hour just to see the first tease of the falls! Stopping at this trickle of water, we are revitalized. With this first tease of rushing water, the falls can’t be much further! Now, the rain isn’t just kissing my face, I’m drowning, at least my face is, and I look more like a raccoon with blackened eyes than a human. When we started this excursion, rain was only a slight mist, refreshing and cool, now my hair is sopping wet and sticky from hair spray. I must look like a squirrel, but I dare not ask my husband. I wipe the rain pouring down my face. My hands are covered with black mascara. Phil stops to remind me to be careful; he was concerned I might fall. He knows what a clumsy woman I am walking on hardwood floors, or simply walking. My knees are weak from years of dancing on stage, but I was determined to show him, and I finally snapped if he didn’t hush, I’d make certain he fell, or slipped, or something—! Breathless, but determined, I refuse to go back. I enjoy a nice hike, but this was almost torture, not to mention, what would happen IF one of us fell, or managed to get bitten by wild animals on the prowl! My dream was to see a bear in the woods. We never saw any wildlife!

A family of hikers, dressed with back packs, sticks and bottles of water in their hands meet us on the narrow, slippery path. I look at the tiny boy drinking from a bottle riding on his father’s shoulders. I can almost taste the moistness as he gulps the water bottle dry. “Hello,” I say, wishing they’d offer us a bottle of water. We move closer to the edge. The softness of the path moves under my feet. I look down, thinking if I fell, the doorways of Hell would open up and swallow me.

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The second “tease” of an upcoming waterfall — or — is THIS the waterfall?

That’s when I realize rules are made for a reason, and some rules should be followed, like the rules of hiking. Be prepared – we were not. Carry equipment – like first aid kits, bottled water, and wear good hiking shoes. Sneakers are comfortable and they certainly beat sandals during a hike, but some rules should be followed! What would happen if Phil or I were bitten by a snake, or if my spaghetti like ankles give out? What if I broke a leg? Some rules, even those made by the Corporate World, should be followed!

Phil nods to the family asking, “How much longer?” The small boy atop his father’s shoulders whimpers, “A long, long, LONG ways!” His father snickers.

“Thanks,” I say, sarcasm spilling over. “Appreciate that.”

Phil scrutinizes me as I lean on a tree stump. “You okay?”

Huffing and puffing, wishing I had my inhaler I nod. “OK. Let’s go.”

“Take a break,” he responds, listening to the wheezing in my chest. “You’ve got your inhaler with you. Right?”

My look says it all. Knowing me as he does, I can almost read his mind. I’m certain he’s thinking, ‘Your inhaler is in the car. You should’ve remembered it!’

Furious with him, I think about the edge of the cliff, wishing to move him closer. The sarcasm returns to my voice and I ask, ‘Did you remember your cell phone?’

He pats his hip, removes the cell phone. “No service.”

“Great. Just what will we do if I fall, or get bitten by a bear?”

The endless path to nowhere continues as we plunge our bodies forward.

“I think someone lied to us,” Phil says cynically. There’s nothing ahead.”

“I’m not stopping. If there’s a waterfall here, I intend to find it.”moving-closer-to-the-falls

Another ‘trickle’ of a waterfall

 

Phil grows more irritated with me every moment. Perhaps he doesn’t like this determined woman I am now. Corporate America has changed me for the better in many ways.

I think about the conversation I had with the girls at the office on my last day of work. Phil had called numerous times that day, and I threatened to throw him overboard when we rode the rapids.

“Look over here,” I said, leaning over a bit. “If someone wanted to get rid of somebody, this would be the perfect place. I bet it goes all the way down to Hell. Who’d know?”

“Eventually it would smell. You trying to tell me something?” He asks, lifting his eyebrows suspiciously at me.

“No, just thinking out loud. Suppose it’s the writer inside me, asking those what if questions.”

“Whatever. Let’s go. Time’s wasting.”

Reluctantly I stretch my aching legs.

“You wanna go back to the car?” He smirks.

Another group of hikers meets us. I’m in hopes they found the falls. One of the ladies in this group holds a wooden stick.

“You’ve got a while still,” she says, inhaling deep. “About two more miles.”

The guy next to her punches her on the shoulder.

“You are kidding, aren’t you?” I ask.

The group laughs.

Phil and I continue the pursuit. Now, he’s gasping for breath too as we climb steeper, placing our feet carefully along the slippery mud puddles. The rain is torrential now, as if someone turned a water faucet on high. My hair no longer feels like cotton candy with syrup on it. It is soft, as if the rain has washed all chemicals and mousse away.

What seems to take forever, a stroll all the way to the Heavens feels like it was hours away. My arthritic knees ache, but I am determined. I will not be defeated, even if it is the last adventure I complete in my lifetime. I inhale, exhale, stretch my legs, and plunge higher. I hear the sound of water. “It’s just the rain running down the mountain,” I say to Phil. We hear the sounds of falling water and move closer. The falls are just ahead. I feel a sense of accomplishment! Glancing at my sneakers, I discover my legs, socks, and sneakers are covered with mud.

“Thank goodness we have a washer and dryer at the cabin,” I said. “My socks and shoes were white this morning.”

Startled at my determination, Phil sees the new and improved me standing before him. Excited to see the world as a new adventure, I’m energized, like the non-stop Energizer bunny. I grab my camera, zooming in to capture the pure, flowing, sparkling falls. This is heaven. I wipe the splashing water from my eyes, unaware if it is rain, or my tears.

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Our first view of Grotto Falls, Gatlinburg, TN

 

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Beautiful, breathtaking Grotto Falls, Gatlinburg, TN

IF YOU GO:

  1. Don’t break hiking rules. Carry a backpack with supplies, first aid.
  2. Be prepared for steep hills, slippery rocks, and tree roots.
  3. Wear hiking shoes. Sneakers work, but hiking boots recommended.
  4. Carry a camera. The view is well worth the hike.
  5. Bottled water recommended. You will get thirsty as you climb higher!

For more information about Grotto Falls, visit the web site: www.southeasternoutdoors.com/public-lands/national-parks/smoky-mountains/grotto-falls.html

Photo credit: Barbie Perkins-Cooper

Barbie Perkins Cooper is a talented, award-winning writer of travel guides, screenplays, fiction, non-fiction, plays, and numerous articles for regional, trade and travel publications.  In her spare time, she enjoys photography, boat riding, relaxing on the beaches of South Carolina, and listening to good music, especially jazz and hiking.

 

 

Social Media Regrets…


Dearest Readers:

Yesterday, after quickly surfing on Facebook, I made a decision to leave social media for a while.

‘Why?’ Friends and readers ask.

Simple. I’m so tired of the racism, bigotry, and hatred discovered while reading some of the posts. I discovered the hatred and racism during the Presidential campaign of 2016. I hoped the hatred would disappear once the election was over. It hasn’t. If anything — it has intensified.

As all of you in America know, Donald J. Trump is our President Elect. Yes, he is a hot head. Yes, he has a toxic mouth, spitting cruelties out before he realizes what he has said or implied. Did I vote for him?

I will not reveal who I voted for; however, I will say, I considered WHO was the lesser of the two evils. Hillary Clinton vs. Donald J. Trump, or is it — Donald J. Trump vs. Hillary Clinton?

I have not missed any election since I was allowed to vote at the age of 18. I am proud to vote. I take the election seriously. All elections. I review. I research and I make a pro and con list for every election. When I walk into the polls to vote, I have my homework done, and I vote. No, I do not allow others to influence me. My vote is MY decision. No one else can change my mind.

Years ago, my husband and I talked about politics. During one election [sorry, I cannot recall which one] we had a heated dispute in a restaurant. My husband did his best to intimidate me, to make me change my mind, but on Election Day, I voted – for the person of my choice, not the party. After that election, we decided it was not a good idea for a husband and wife to discuss politics. This year, we did not discuss who the best candidate was. Why? Simple. Neither candidate was ‘the best.’

I will go on record to say I think the time is now for a woman to be President; however, after all of the lies, and most especially, how Hillary Clinton broke the law by not keeping government e-mails “confidential” I lost complete respect for her. Years ago, during her husband’s presidency, women wanted her to divorce Bill Clinton. I remember saying “Hillary Clinton will not divorce Bill. She has a mission planned.”

And what a mission she planned, only to lose the election. Reportedly, on Facebook and other Internet sites, there are many reasons she lost the election. Other sites had her winning the election. In fact, there is so much material flying across the Internet; I will not even attempt to list any of these sites. To quote Hillary Clinton during the Benghazi hearings: “What difference, at this point, does it make?”

I listened to the Benghazi hearings. When I heard her infamous statement, I turned the television off, remembering how frightened I was during my husband’s Tour of Duty in Vietnam. If I were one of the family members, her cold, uncalculated statement meant a lot. Lives were lost. Had the USA reacted, those words, “What difference, at this point, does it make?” were some of the most profound words spoken. How would Hillary Clinton feel IF those words or a similar story affected her daughter? http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2016/09/11/what-benghazi-attack-taught-me-about-hillary-clinton.html

After this discovery, additional lies and deceptions continued, especially how Hillary did not follow through with keeping her confidential e-mails ‘confidential.’ I will assume those of us who do live and vote in America, know about these stories. There are just too many to discuss here in this post. Hillary Clinton would not take responsibility for her actions, and that is why I did not think she is strong enough to admit her mistakes, or to serve our country as the next President Elect.

“Well, what about Trump?” You are asking.

I am aware of those accusations happening over 20 or 30 years ago. My question to all of those women who came forward is this – “Why has it taken you so long to come forward?” Isn’t it strange how those accusations occurred during the election debates? Because I respect myself, if any man said those words to me, it would not take me 20 – 30 years to come forward.

I was so tempted to write in a candidate for President. Mickey Mouse was sounding better every day.

Undoubtedly, the Election of 2016 was one of the dirtiest smear campaigns ever. It is so sad that this election happened during the time when a woman candidate attempted to make history and break the ‘glass ceiling.’ Now, with the election over I read disgusting stories and that is why I’ve decided to be quiet on Facebook for a while.

The media still reports about the protests after the Election 2016. There are over 28,000,400 sites on the Internet discussing the election. If you would like to read them, simply type ‘protests after the election 2016’ on Google. Yes, the news media is having a field day reporting the information. Now, I must ask, just how true are these sites?

The anger is horrifying. Yesterday, while reading Facebook, I read comments from someone [I shall not reveal the name – after all, “What difference at this point does it make?”] The words were chilling. Yes, the person was a ‘friend’ on Facebook, not anymore. I’ve unfriended this person, and earlier, when I checked the site, the person’s name is not listed with Facebook now. I do not know why; however, it might be related to the post listing about children will get raped now with Donald Trump as president(???) and the hatred this person felt after the election. There were so many of these types of posts it made me ashamed to be on Facebook, and to be active on social media sites.

This is America. We are proud of our country, and we are grateful and protective of our children. It is my hope and prayer that Facebook and other social media sites will get their act together to screen some of the posts listed by members who join Facebook. Hatred does not need additional feeding sites on social media sites. We can step out in America to see hatred everywhere. America was not based on hatred, although now, it appears that hatred is the fuel these people have to promote more bigotry, racism and hatred.

Some might argue – if this is done it is censorship. I think not. Facebook is a social media site. Just because you might read destructive things on this site does not mean the posts are true. They are opinions. While I do not know for certain, I imagine some of the listings on Facebook and other social media sites could be to seduce someone to click on to read, only to have a hacker inside the computer. I want to protect myself and my computer, and that is why for a while, I might jump on to Facebook, but the only way you will see my actions are when I post on my blog. For me, I am taking a sabbatical from social media…to rest…regroup, and recognize I need to find inspiration and motivation to write again!

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HAPPY VETERAN’S DAY


Dearest Readers:

It is with heartfelt pride I extend a proud and Happy Veteran’s Day to all Veterans who served our country. I have a heart filled with love, respect and pride for ALL VETERANS, especially the Veterans of the “Vietnam conflict.”

9th Inf Div, Commo Platoon_Aug_2007DSC_0170

As my loyal readers know, I am married to a Vietnam Veteran. Married only three months when he shipped out for Vietnam on Thanksgiving Day. What a broken-hearted Thanksgiving that day was for me. I remember crying and praying all day long for God to keep my soldier husband safe and to bring him back to me.

Years later, after watching my husband burst into rages, I researched to see what was going on within him. He would not talk to me. When he was tormented, I heard these words: “It don’t mean nothing.”

The fights and rages continued and each time he said, “It don’t mean nothing,” I realized his words meant a lot, especially to me. He was careful. Never did he show his rage in public. He only showed them to me. Never did others see him choking me during nights of fitful sleep. “It don’t mean nothing,” certainly meant something horrifying to him. When we saw the movies about Vietnam, one of the lines by a fighting soldier were: “It don’t mean nothing. Man. It don’t mean nothing.”

I tapped my husband on the shoulder. “You say that all the time to me.”

He looked at me in the darkness of the movie theater.

Once, after playing golf with his closest Vietnam friend, he came home and said: “Jerry thinks I have PTSD.”

“Oh,” I smiled. “Jerry thinks you might have PTSD. Guess what! I KNOW you have PTSD.”

A few weeks later, Phil decided to meet with his doctors at the Ralph H. Johnson VA Medical Center. The doctors confirmed he definitely had PTSD. For those who might not be aware, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder [PTSD] wasn’t diagnosed until 1980. http://www.ptsd.va.gov/professional/PTSD-overview/ptsd-overview.asp

In this household, PTSD existed much earlier while watching my husband jump practically out of his skin whenever he heard loud noises. Let’s not discuss fireworks. He shivers like a frightened child when he hears them. In the middle of the night, he would straddle me. Hands around my neck, squeezing and choking me while muttering something about “Charlie’s coming,” and a few words I could not understand in a foreign language – Vietnamese style.

On Veterans’ Day, I do not want to digress about Vietnam.

Today, after the election, there is so much hatred in America. How I wish all of those angry people would go to a church and pray — to rid their bodies of the hatred they have. We in America, need to give our new President Elect a chance to make America Great again. We should not beat others, knocking them out of their cars, kicking, screaming cursing at them simply because “You voted for Trump.”

We must move forward. We must fly our USA flags proudly, not burn them. We must say to a Veteran, “Thank you for your service.” Most of all, we should not hate.

To all of you who served our country, I shall say again: “Thank you,” and “May God bless you, and all of us in the United States of America, as we move forward to a new President.”

May God bless the USA. Welcome Home Veterans. HAPPY VETERANS DAY.

[The photographs posted are from the HHC 3rd Brigade, 9th Infantry Division. I love each and every one of you and your families. Happy Veteran’s Day! Photography credit: Barbie Perkins-Cooper]

 

 

 

 

 

ELECTION DAY 2016 — BATTLE OF THE SEXES


Dearest Readers:

Today is Wednesday, November 9, 2016. The day after Election Day 2016.

During the campaigns between Hillary Clinton and Donald J. Trump, almost everyone in America was convinced Hillary would win. The news media fed us stories about how the electoral votes would go to Hillary. Imagine their shocked faces last night while listening to the election reports.

I watched the news reports until a bit after 11:00pm. For months, I have prayed that the best party would win. After listening the pros and cons of each candidate, I decided the lesser of the two evils was Donald J. Trump. He is arrogant. Boastful. He lies. He is arrogant…He Lies!

As for Hillary Clinton, I lost respect for her during the Benghazi hearings. Watching her press conferences, I lost additional respect. Why? She lies! SHE LIES…All she can do is LIE!

Did I mention she was accused of using her personal computer to conduct e-mail business on confidential matters? She is a government employee. She should know better, especially since many of those e-mails were confidential. Shame. Shame. Hillary. If she did this, just WHAT will she do if she is elected.

Both candidates are liars, but the ‘lesser of the two evils’ was Donald J. Trump.

If you read my blog on a regular basis, you will know I am a feminist! A few months ago, I was leaning towards voting for Hillary. Listing items on a pro and con list, I realized my numbers were now leaning towards Donald J. Trump. I simply could not vote for a woman, just because she is a woman.

News reports came out about Donald J. Trump touching other women. I will not list those reports here because they are not believable, especially since those reports should’ve been reported 20-30 years ago. As a woman, it would not take me that long to charge a man with sexual harassment. I brushed those reports away, still leaning towards Donald J. Trump.

Yesterday was election day, 2016. The people have spoken. While the news media shared election day results, they should’ve had mud on their faces. Previously, the media did its best to convince America Hillary Clinton would be our next president, and she would make history as the “first woman President.”

Surprise! Donald J. Trump is our President Elect. If he is a man of his word, and sometimes that is questionable – I pray he will be the President he spoke about. The President who would make ‘America Great Again.’

After I heard that news at 4:00am, I fell back to sleep, dreaming about Hillary Clinton, of all people. In the dream, she was in a hotel room with Billy Boy. She was shouting at him, beating his chest as tears rushed down from those blinking eyes. In the dream, she blamed him for her losing the election. Someone strapped her in a strait jacket. That is when I awoke, almost feeling sorry for poor little Hillary.

According to news reports she is having a press conference at 9:30am. I can only imagine what she will say this time. Will she blink her eyes like she did at the debates? Will she nod her head and appear a bit confused?

Poor little Hillary.

I simply could not punch my finger by her name yesterday — to vote for her, just because she is a woman.

I believe she was counting on women to support her and vote for her. This one did not. Does that make me less of a feminist???

I think NOT!

 

 

The Top 10 Workout Songs for November 2016


FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

The Top 10 Workout Songs for November 2016

Fort Wayne, IN – November 1, 2016 – This month’s top 10 workout songs span a wider tempo range then normal—with the fastest song clocking at more than double the speed of the slowest. Moreover, that’s just the beginning of this playlist’s variety. So, with no further ado, let’s get into the mix.

On the lower end of the spectrum, you’ll find new tunes from The Weekend and Lady Gaga that are perfect for warming up, cooling down, and stretching. At the other end, you’ll find lightning fast tracks from Green Day and Dagny that will give you an extra boost mid-routine. Those tracks alone incorporate country touches, Scandinavian melodies, pop punk, and Daft Punk. Elsewhere, you can find remixes from Ellie Goulding and The Chainsmokers alongside soundtrack hits by Years & Years (from Bridget Jones’ Baby) and Christina Aguilera (from The Get Down).

Whatever your tastes, new faves await. When you’re ready to make tracks, here’s the full top 10 list—according to the votes logged on workout music site Run Hundred.

Christina Aguilera & Nile Rodgers – Telepathy (Rare Candy Radio Mix) – 123 BPM

The Weekend & Daft Punk – Starboy – 93 BPM

Green Day – Revolution Radio – 180 BPM

The Chainsmokers & Halsey – Closer (Wuki Remix) – 108 BPM

Dagny – Ultraviolet – 150 BPM

Lady Gaga – A-YO – 75 BPM

Years & Years – Meteorite – 120 BPM

Maroon 5 & Kendrick Lamar – Don’t Wanna Know – 100 BPM

Bruno Mars – 24k Magic – 107 BPM

Ellie Goulding – Still Falling for You (Jonas Blue Remix) – 123 BPM

To find more workout songs, folks can check out the free database at RunHundred.com. Visitors can browse the song selections there by genre, tempo, and era—to find the music that best fits with their particular workout routine.

Contact:
Chris Lawhorn
Run Hundred
Email: mail@runhundred.com