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Will they offer to pay for male employees to freeze their sperm?

Interesting news out about Apple and Facebook offering to pay for female employees that want to freeze their eggs so that they can work longer and plan for mommyhood later.shutterstock_semen

I’m all for women’s rights (minored in Women’s Studies in college) but I wonder if Facebook and Apple and other tech companies will offer the same perk to their male employees? What say y’all?

A letter to 7

The assignment: “Writing 101: To Whom it May Concern. Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29. What jumps out at you? Start there, and try a twist: write in the form of a letter.” The nearest book was “The Adobe Photoshop Lightroom 4 book for digital photographers” by Scott Kelby. What “jumped out” at me on page 29 was the number 7. Here’s where it led… 

 

7

Dear 7,

I’ve been wanting to engage with you for so long, not once or twice, not three times, “not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” And now I see that I don’t have much time left. But I know you’ve got plenty of time and have an endless supply, you’ll be around forever.

Maybe it’s supposed to work out just like it has for the last 58 years and I’ve not been aware of it. Maybe you’ve kept yourself out of reach from me for a reason.

I can’t say for sure when I’ll leave, but I know it’ll probably be sooner than later. You’ve seen millions go before me 7, many of those left without your help, I don’t want to go before getting a little help. I don’t need much and you probably wouldn’t even notice a dent in your supply.

7, my plea to you is heartfelt. I won’t be writing to you again. I know you probably have more important things to tend to besides reading letters from folks like me. But if you can find the time to give me just a little before I have to check out, it will sure make for a wonderful ending.

Thanks,

TC

October

fallen leaves

naked trees

chilly breeze

long sleeves

pumpkins tease

All Hallows’ Eve.

An autumn tale: Fall. The end.

The Park

The Daily Post Writing 101 Assignment was writing something from three different points of view. The prompt: “A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.” Here then is my rendering from three different points of veiw; first the man, then the woman, lastly the old knitter. 

 

Holding her hand was like holding on to a warm wet sponge. But it didn’t keep him from gripping it harder as he noticed the red sweater. Terrifying, suffocating, he could still feel the weight of it covering his head. Could still feel the strong grip of those giant hands clasping around his waist. That little red sweater an old lady was knitting, she was sitting on a park bench as they walked by, knitting and singing something, a lullaby? “Hush little baby don’t you cry, momma’s gonna find you….” His thoughts trailed off, the wet sponge moved up to his elbow and he looked down at it, watched as it materialized into a hand, a diamond sparkled, the hand belonged to the only woman he had ever loved, the diamond ring, the only ring he had ever given to any woman. He slowed as they moved past the old lady, the red sweater, that lullaby, why now? It had been over 45-years ago, they found him wrapped in it, in a box, outside the door of the old Catholic church. He started to cry, something he had never done before.

~~~~~~~~

She could never explain nor understand why her left hand sweated when being held. This was the worst it had ever been and she was afraid the brand new diamond engagement ring she was wearing would slip off. She gripped his hand a little tighter, embarrased by the amount of salty water she knew was emanating from her palm onto his. But he never seemed to mind, had never asked her about it. She thought he would for sure now. The old woman knitting there on the park bench, a child’s sweater, red, she suddenly remembered. Sweat started pouring out of her palm like a river, how could he not notice? She remembered how hot it had been that day, unusally so for late autumn, so many years ago, she was playing under the big oak tree, her favorite spot, when she noticed a large squirrel sitting on one of the lower branches, wearing a red sweater. Funny, but not odd to a little girl who loved squirrels. She picked up the largest acorn she could find and tossed it up to the squirrel who caught it with one quick swipe in its bushy tail. She smiled, remembering how silly the squirrel looked wearing a red sweater. The sound of someone blowing their nose brought her back, it was her fiance, and he seemed to be crying.

~~~~~~~~

It was time for her daily walk to the park, her favorite bench, the late autumn sunshine felt as warm as a sweater. Her knitting bag (with an apple and one large peanut butter cookie inside) seemed to get heavier and heavier with each passing day. She thought it might be the extra large cookie, or the big Honey Crisp apple that made it heavier today. She forgot about the pain as she began walking the four blocks to the park. Arriving at the park she saw Mr. Devonshire again, always snooping around that large oak tree for something she knew he’d never find. He noticed her and walked hurriedly away, She never saw him sitting on her favorite bench under the oak. If he ever were to be sitting there when she arrived she would most certainly have him removed. She settled down on the well worn bench, noticing a couple walking towards her in the distance. As she began knitting something reminded her of an old lullaby her mother used to sing to her: “Hush little baby don’t you cry, momm’s gonna find you…” Her thoughts were interrupted as the couple came into focus just in front of her, they were holding hands, and slowed as they passed. She noticed how the young lady seemed to be gripping the man’s arm ever so tightly, and he seemed to be crying. She couldn’t stop the tears. The red sweater was complete.

A Late Start (Part One)

I need to engage in writing exercises that’ll help me polish up the dull habits I’ve formed since leaving college in 2006. This will be Part One in a “Writing 101: Serially Lost” assignment.  

46-years ago that old Kay acoustic guitar was just about as big as I was. But I somehow managed to fumble around with it enough to learn three basic chords: G, C, and D. You can play a lot of songs with just those three chords. I was 12-years old and when I finally learned how to play Houes Of The Rising Sun things around our house had started to burn like the sun!

They’re painful memories, memories best left buried. But they’re a part of who I am, I’ve never written much about my childhood, partly because I’m afraid of what I’ll write, and I’m also quite apprehensive about how it might be taken by members of my family. I suppose I can try to dig up a few bones. I’ll have to pick at them, for now anyway.

These bones

 

The Letter

Writing 101 Assigment: Be Brief 

“Mom, nevermind, I guess I’ll just leave…”

That was all it said, seven words. I was on my way to the mailbox when I spotted a crumpled up piece of paper lying in the yard. Those seven words, and the image following them – a sad-faced emote, made me wonder. I stuffed the scrawled note in my pocket, put the letter to my Mother in the mailbox and raised the flag.

The next day one of my siblings called to tell me that Mother had passed. I looked out to see if the mail had come yet, the flag was down.

 

Atheism is a religion

TC Conner:

I believe God likes the Atheist that wrote this!

Originally posted on Mindful Digressions:

atheismI hear that a lot — that atheism is a religion — from people who are not atheists. And, of course, we atheists have our snide cute, catch-phrase responses:

Atheism is a religion like abstinence is a sexual position.
Atheism is a religion like bald is a hair color.
Atheism is a religion like not collecting stamps is a hobby.
Atheism is a religion like health is a disease.

But seriously folks, atheism is a religion like the Bible is a history book and like creationism is science.

I think part of the reason that people believe that atheism is a religion is because most people don’t really understand what it is…and what it isn’t. In fact, for some reason, some people are actually intimidated by atheism.

According to a recent Pew Research Study, atheists are one of the most universally disliked groups in America. Atheists are in a virtual tie…

View original 858 more words

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