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Adela Crandell Durkee Posts

Pause, Breathe, and Take Stock 2017-8

This weekend truly gave me an opportunity to re-set emotionally.  I got away from the news, spent some quality time with Loved-One, in one of my favorite places, Chicago, and answered an unexpected invitation to connect with a nephew.  All good for me.  All a welcomed distraction and relief.  Thanks to a little re-set, the my list of gratitudes comes easily and reminds me of the abundance in my life.  A very sunshiny and WARM weekend.  I even saw someone laying on a blanket in her front yard. Long walks with Love-One. It’s about time we both started moving more.…

1,000 Words worth 2017-7

Each week for 2017, To find out more click here.   “How do you work it again?” “Just stick your paw in here like this, and flip the food out.  It’s supposed to be more a more satisfying way for us to eat.” “What makes you say that?” “Woman-servant said so.  She bought it for us.” “You mean the same servant who said I was fat?” “She should look in the mirror and see who’s fat.” “Remember what we did when the man-servant bought us that cheap litter? Don’t worry, we can stop this anytime we want.” “Did she tell…

Pause, Breathe, and Take Stock 2017-7

I’m mellowing into our new political climate.  Perhaps mellowing is too sedentary a word.  This weekend I began to see some plus sides.  I’m not one to use the phrase, “all things happen for a reason,” or even “it must be God’s plan.”  However, I can see that people can be energized toward good when they see the unsavory side of human nature, and we can do God’s will in the wake of tragedy.  I love our new environment stimulates so many people to demonstrate, boycott, listen, discuss, get involved in local government, etc.

Most of my sadness has abated and I can see sunshine in my days. I’m sure it helps that I literally see more sunshine and the days are getting longer, as well as warmer.

Here’s a few more things, in no particular order, that I am grateful for this Monday morning:

1,000 Words worth 2017-6

Each week for 2017, To find out more click here.   “I don’t know why,” said Liz. “It feels like such a treat to go out to breakfast.” She cradled her coffee mug in both hands. “Me too.” Fred leaned toward Liz, elbows on the table, palms reaching toward her as he spoke. “I have a surprise for you. I found a place for us to live.” Liz ran her tongue between her top lip and her teeth. “Where?” She picked up her coffee cup, still in both hands and held it against her forehead. “You know that Tiny House…

Recycled 55-gallon drums make music

I’m blessed with a wonderful photo-journalist job.  It’s a small paper.  It’s a local paper. It’s a free paper. The best part about it is I get to meet the most interesting people. Plus, I learn a lot. Last week I Matt Potts and Anthony Houston. Matt makes steelpans out of used 55-gallon drums.  Oh my goodness!  I never heard of these instruments before.  He starts with a sledge-hammer, using smaller and smaller hammers, until the harmonics are just right. Hop on over to McHenry Chronicle to read more by clicking here. Here’s a video of the Matt and Anthony…

Pause, Breathe, and Take Stock 2017-6

Ahh… I’m feeling a bit better this Monday. The sun is out, the weather is a bit warmer, the Super Bowl ads were heart-warming, and I am getting back into a move-more routine.  I interviewed two very interesting people this week.  One is a young man who makes steel pans, musical instruments made of recycled 55 gallon drums.  The other is a middle-aged mother who attended the Women’s March in Chicago.  She takes serious the mantra of “connect, protect, activate.” I’m beginning to feel on firmer footing. The NFL ad “Inside these lines,” gave me the chills. As an un-fan…

1,000 Words worth 2017-5

Each week for 2017, I’m posting a photo and a bit of flash fiction. To find out more visit here. “I wear gloves,” said Hershal.  He looked out the window, turning his head away from Mavis.  His hands stayed threaded together on the cafeteria table.  “What’s it to you, anyways?” Hershal kept his eyes on the pair of swans in the hospital’s cooling pond just outside the window. “All the time?” Mavis said, her own hands sunk deep into the pockets of a too-big coat with frayed cuffs.  “I mean your hands look so soft.” “Our mother is dying and…

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