#Dailypostprompts

I Believe

/ Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 13 Comments

       The Daily Post Prompt –  Believe

After years of writing and hiding my words by a stream in a cow pasture, I have found my voice, and I know what I believe.

I am a conservative, southern woman, a mother, grandmother, and a retired nurse, having served in the nursing profession from 1972 until 1995. Reading, writing, family, and friends are my passion, not necessarily in that order.

  • I believe in God, that He is in control, even when I’m not.
  • I believe knowledge is power and investing in the future of our country is not only my duty but also an honor. I believe in standing.
  • I believe in honoring every man and woman who rises each day to protect family, my country, and me. They are far braver than I.
  • I believe our history, the good, bad, and the ugly, is worth remembering.

“I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.” ― Maya Angelou – Tweet This

  • I believe family is the foundation in which our country will either succeed or fail and being a mother is my greatest accomplishment and responsibility.
  • I believe we all must be kinder than necessary to others. Everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
  • I believe satisfying a short-term goal, on an impulse, at the expense of a long-term goal; will cost you something, which matters much more in the end.
  • I believe we would be better off if we returned to practicing the values of honor, respect, integrity, hard work, gratitude, and appreciation.
  • I believe in friendships that last a lifetime and laughter the best medicine.
  • I believe books open more hearts minds and the doors to a world of imagination better than any device we possess.
  • I believe learning to lose graciously is more valuable than a trophy.I believe it is not our mistakes or failures that define us, but what we do with them.

“When you come to the edge of all the light you know, And are about to step off into the darkness, Faith is believing one of two things will happen, There will be something solid to stand on, or you will learn to fly.” Patrick Overton – Tweet This

What do you believe?

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Join the conversation. Talk to me or tell me your story. I’m all ears.

Deny All You Want

/ Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 8 Comments

The Daily Post  Prompt – Deny

There are times I get distracted. You know:
  • Going into one room to do something only to have another something catch your eye …
  • Bending down to pick up a cracker crumb from the kitchen floor and noticing the nasty baseboard …
  • Walking into Walmart for one item and coming out with a cart …
  • Searching for a document on your computer and spending the day re-organizing your entire file system …
  • Starting one story and getting highjacked by another …

I have a name for this and no, it isn’t dementia (Although, I wouldn’t ask my husband) – I call it – the squirrels are loose. More recently, however, I’ve come to realize it’s something more sinister  – Mother! 

Yep, the ghost of my mother is haunting me. She’s not only dancing in the middle of the squirrels, she’s leading the choir.

Women can deny it all they want that they’re nothing like their mother, but the older we get, the more we become our mothers. And, don’t give me that sappy crap, “I would be honored to be like my mother.” Bull malarkey! Okay, maybe one or two of you … but, I digress.

Growing up, mother was our version of Mr. Clean, and let me tell you, baldy couldn’t  hold a candle to mom!

By the time I was a teenager, I knew how to vacuum, mop, strip and wax floors, scrub tile grout, baseboards, and make windows sparkle! You would have thought the Pope was coming for Sunday dinner (we were Baptist, but still).

When she cleaned house, she supervised. At the time I thought I had the meanest mother on the earth, but I did learn some valuable lessons along the way:

  •  “If you don’t do it right the first time, you’ll just have to do it again.” 
  • “You don’t have to have a lot of money, but you can be clean.”
  • “Hard work never hurt nobody.”
  • “I know the definition of elbow grease – “Put some elbow grease in that.”

I’m sure there are more, but my mind has wandered. So, back to my long, drawn-out point – See?

Last week, while picking up a crumb, I noticed my baseboards, which lead to me (yes me) painting every baseboard in my line of sight, 4 doors, reorganizing my junk drawers, pantry, closet, re-installing my computer software, and joining the Chapter Buzz, 10,000-word Challenge for October!

My arthritic body is faring better than I expected, but my mind is tired as hell. I think I might be possessed.So, yes deny all you want that you look, act, or say things like your mother – but it happens to the best of us, like it or not.

So, yes deny all you want that you look, act, or say things like your mother – but it happens to the best of us, like it or not.

P.S. Did I tell you I’m making homemade sweet potato jerky for my Bichon because they’re her favorite and the stores stopped carrying them?!!

Jesus, mom! Give it a rest!

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Join the conversation. Talk to me or tell me your story. I’m all ears.

 

Uh oh, Grandma’s in Trouble

/ Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 13 Comments

The Daily Post Prompt: Thorny

As you may have read, I recently took a trip to Washington D.C. I typically visit D.C. twice a year to see my youngest daughter who has been there almost six years. This time, however, it was a treat to take my oldest daughter and my two lovely granddaughters with me. It was the first time flying for the young ones, and I was interested in how they might react to the security checkpoint. Their mother and I gave them a brief summary of what to expect, and we got in line.

I have a pacemaker. I can walk through the x-ray machine but must avoid the wan. As a result, I frequently get the pleasure of the pat-down; which I have no problem submitting to. I’m not one of those who scream civil rights or whimper about being ‘touched.’  So, pat away. They want me to strip? No problem. I’m past the age of being offended. All I’m interested in is getting on the plane, having an uneventful and safe flight and arriving at my destination in one piece.

Everything was going smoothly until the officer swabbed my hands. My daughter and granddaughters went through without a hitch. They were grabbing their things off of the conveyor when an alarm sounded. A woman next to my daughter said, “Uh oh, Grandma’s in trouble.”

To which my daughter replied, “Nah, she has a pacemaker; she’s fine.”

“Nope, that was not her pacemaker. She set off an alarm.”

Talking about a thorny situation … I was watching my granddaughters, not paying much attention to the officer swiping my hands. Then the alarm sounded, and I glanced at the monitor. “Stay here,” the officer said, calling to another officer. Puzzled I looked at the monitor and my eyes widened; it was flashing in big letters – TNT!

“Holy s*@&! What the hell had I touched?” TNT?? Seriously? 

Yep, that’s yours truly at the beginning of my second and more thorough pat-down. I thought my flippant remark about stripping was about come to fruition – that or a cavity search.  Lucky for me, it didn’t get that thorny!

I was eventually cleared and allowed to board the plane, but I was certain, somewhere, some dude was typing my name onto a  watch list.

The girls had a good laugh at Nana’s expense, of course, and we had a blast in D.C. Oops! I mean fun! FUN. If anyone’s listening out there  – I meant FUN!

Maybe, my daughter should come home more often. It’s getting hard to take me anywhere.

Here’s a travel tip:  hand lotions with glycerine will test positive for explosives! Who knew!

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Join the conversation. Talk to me or tell me your story. I’m all ears.

 Theorem 31 

/ Sheila McIntrye Good, Author / 4 Comments

Daily Post Prompt: Rhyme

 Although I would never call myself a poet under any circumstances, I can’t imagine a girl alive that didn’t at some point try her hand at writing poetry. Usually, and I’m guessing (wink, wink) every girl has poured her young heart out in rhyme and unreasonableness. I’m sure my cow pasture journal was filled with sappy attempts. I don’t have the remnants of those but I do have one special poem, written while in high school with an amusing little back story.

I would rather have been tied to a stake and set afire than forced to take algebra. However, back in the day (don’t ask, it was a long time ago), if you wanted to go to college, you took algebra. My teacher was a young man fresh out of college and for some reason took a special interest in this struggling student. In fact, had I accepted a dinner date with him (sworn to secrecy, of course) I could have come out with an A. I turned his generous invitation down and instead wrote a poem, which he rather liked. I’d take my chances on the grade.

 Theorem 31 

Oh, that teacher in 1st period
his Theorems and his Proofs!
the more I try, the harder it gets
and, the Lord knows that’s the truth

The corollaries and postulates,
know them one by one
now, get to work and state the Proof
Of Theorem 31

I proudly state the given
then comes L1=L2
man, on my way, am I
and AB=BY.

I look again at what
I am proud to prove and
suddenly see despair

I know that Mr. Morgan’s near
I sense him in the air.
He’s standing there right over me
With ruler in his hand

Sheila that’s wrong,
dear heart
Erase it and try again

Oh, that teacher in 1st period
his Theorems and his Proofs
they’re driving me up the wall
and, God knows that’s the truth.

With a long, deep
and sad, sad sigh
I begin to erase it
I begin to cry

The shreds of hair lay
All around
My tear-stained face
Is streaked

So here, go again
compose yourself
don’t look so stunned

Sheila, it’s really very easy
now, take this sheet
Quit pulling your hair
now, prove Theorem 31

 

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Join the conversation. Talk to me or tell me your story. I’m all ears.