Just get in the groove

and stop your moping

“life’s too short”

~ a mom somewhere says to her offspring

Who said that?

At least a dozen times a day in her children’s younger years — a mother filled with heart squeezing love for those kids.

They’ll always be kids


in the eyes of a mother who can’t distinguish the age from the act regardless of chronicle years.

Never try to disarm an aging mother Yuppy with even attempting unintelligent charm.

Once any women reaches 50

creeping towards “old age” she panics.

By 60 the Bullshit Meter is permanently turned off

As in who really gives a flying Flweet cut?

There are still some of us who remember the planning and strategy it took in advance of Mother’s Day.

Carefully plotting to win kid-of-the-year title that comes with acknowledgment + thankfulness for leading the way for your children. As a young child of poverty, language barriers, educational misgivings a mother was someone who lead by example:

There was never an excuse for anything less than impeccable cleanliness that could transform battered wood into antique heirlooms because she had a spectacular skill and creative eye able to envision the transformation from elbow grease.

My mom was always impeccably dressed. She taught herself to sew so she could try to sew her own clothes. And ours. Sunday church was a grooming ritual and visualization of the Van Trappe Family from “The Sound of Music” all perfectly matched, down to the curtains bought at rummage sales magically transformed into dresses for my sister and I.

I remember in the 80s, long before any wireless ways, we had to try and try and keep trying to get a connection while dialling a rotary phone. There were no contact buttons. [so you had to manually dial and wait until it returned to the original place before you stuck your finger in the next round hole for the next number, repeats including.

The mini syllables conversations that are the most a mother today can hope for: the exact same time it took for her to just get through the act of motion

Before the busy signal symboled to start over again. Perhaps their stems the tenacity a mother is known for.

From years of tactical planning to say thank you.

Telephone companies made hand over fist profit for air time, just consider the numbers. Whereas with flowers you had something to show for the money spent.

Perhaps that evolved from being born and as children during the World War II era. Where going without was the norm for the kids happening immediately after the stock market crash. When it wasn’t unusual to have money stuffed in mattresses before trusting a bank. Being taught by thrIFTIness wasn’t cHEAP and clean could improve anything.

Thank you for giving me this mini escape from reality.

I no longer expect along with I don’t even care.

Here’s what I’m posting right now:

I’m tweeting that I chose “Game Winner” to win the #KentuckyDerby and included, tagged a coupla others.

Try something to get a practice warm up and jumping into SOCIAL MEDIA


Rooting for a sports team is the easiest means. You challenge your self to including a hashtag >> # << in each of your tweets or Instagram posts.

Facebook isn’t fazed by hashtags, they ignore em.

Google tried that with the plus symbol in front of an ID fighting with getting multiple multitude of groups.

That’s probably where the worm got in.


TRY THIS YOURSELF FOR A POST:

Good humour is best

when turned inward.

] COPY + PASTE [

Add your own photo you create on your iPad with the fun image creation tool APP

] FACE MORPH [ < link for $ale

Add the hashtag quote >> tag moi for a HEART >> engagement on social media = increased follower tribe. Add #RT on Twitter to cast a wider net.

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