For the Historical Record, this is how the Trump presidency responds to American citizens.

My website comment at https://www.whitehouse.gov/contact/: Regarding: “POTUS TODAY, This afternoon, President Trump will lead a prison reform roundtable. Later, The President will meet with his National Security team.” Thank you, President Donald J. Trump, Countries are judged by how they treat the least of their citizens, and today the American President Makes America Great Again by giving attention and reform to citizens in prison who, while in prison, contribute the least to our society. President Trump is making America kind. This is a proud day for those who are compassionate. What will we do in seven years when we have to go back to the kind of politicians we had before, who can’t, w

Remembering a day when Spring was full bloom with the promise of rain in the air.

The day was May 7, 2010, and I had found a note by mother’s chair, upon which she had written: “When Annmarie was 8 to 11, her grandmother would get put out (sic). Why, she would take Annmarie and Carla to a fair(s) and/or carnival. She would give them each the same amount of money. Annmarie would spend all of hers on herself and Carla, and Carla would roll around in the back seat of the car, counting and crowing over her money!!” I remember that, Carla would beg me for treats, saying that she had no money left, so I shared mine with her. They say character changes slowly, but that it does change over time, even so my sister’s character does not appear to have changed for the better

Jealousy

Prior to this life-crushing dump into old age, I tended to be amused, and a little firm with myself about not doing it too often, whenever I made some trivial life error; when I forgot a familiar fact and had to look it up, when I left a light on that should have been off, when I forgot to change the water in my pet’s bowl in the morning, or when I peeled golden sweet potatoes for dinner instead of the white russet potatoes that I had intended, that sort of thing. I was a very well organized woman, it came naturally to me, effortlessly, and it was mildly pleasant. I recognized what a nice life skill I had in my orderliness, and I appreciated it. Whenever I made a small, ordinary life mist

a conversation with a bea

When I emailed this life story of mine to Rick McMullen, who is a retired editor, this was his reply: “It was AMAZING! I have read a great deal throughout my life, much of it trash and not worth the ink, but this, THIS was different. This has real merit, emotion, feeling, smells, sights and sounds. It has immediacy, which is something ALL writers, amateur and professional, struggle to achieve. “I read it without stopping, and I felt uplifted and saddened by it. If you can stir emotions in anyone, especially me, your writing is MORE than worthwhile.” In the late 20th century, there was a vast privately-owned wild animal display located near Peoria, Illinois, USA, called Wildlife Prairie Park.

Dustable Collectibles

After my mother was diagnosed with dementia in 2007, I would go to garage sales to find inexpensive, hand-sized (easier for her to manage) gifts to cheer her up. I went garage sailing once or twice a week for about five years, until mother’s passing in 2013. So, I know about garage sales in Bloomington/Normal, Illinois. I can tell you that early afternoon on Thursday is the best time to go, as that is when many sales begin. IMHO (in my humble opinion) Downstate Illinoisans have the best garage sales in the country, perhaps the world*. They sell really good knickknacks at really good prices. Mother grew up here and my garage sale finds were of a style to her liking. I enjoyed the light

Nine Questions

What is your bliss? ─ Seeing someone enjoy my gifts. Why are you here on Earth? ─ To understand and help wherever and whomever I can. What is a kindness you recall? ─ When people of all sorts offer to help old me lift things when I shop, people of all ages, colors, and walks of life. They are endearing. What is one of your talents? ─ Being able to articulate my perceptions. Who is someone you can always count on? ─ Myself. What vacation would you like to return to? ─ Without a doubt, my mystical home of Norway. What is your favorite time of day? ─ Early morning, I enjoy seeing and hearing the day start, when people begin to move about with purpose. In what way have you changed the most? ─ I

Fat Enough To Hibernate

A trick of the camera, or am I really this fat? It is hard to say, it depends upon your perspective. For scientific analysis of viruses that may cause full-moon bellies, and for Bollywood-style (Hindi cinema ) illustrations, see video on Professor Nikhil Dhurandhar’s studies: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzrEobx70n8 “Nikhil V. Dhurandhar is a university professor who has published details about the proposed adipogenic effect of the human adenovirus AD-36 on laboratory animals and also its association with human obesity...” Wikipedia.com Fat Enough To Hibernate poem by Annmarie Throckmorton, 2006 I think that I am fat because, I am getting ready for a cozy hibernation, From life’s cares

defining words

Urbandictionary.com had a cold-hearted definition for the dancing anklets called payals (see screen capture). It makes me wonder again how young women endure the rampant misogyny of the alternative media in the twenty-first century. I have seen videos on-line of grown men in the media cursing women, calling them names, expressing scorn toward them. It turns my stomach. In my day most men had the dignity to hide any contempt for the gentler sex. Many actively sought to protect the weaker sex. Anyway, so in 2010 I posted a corrective definition for payals on Urbandicitonary.com (see screen capture). Long ago I wore payals, and they make you feel light-hearted, merry, and flirty. It is

Mottled Migraine

How can I do life’s work when I have such vertigo that I cannot sit up? I slept from yesterday afternoon until this morning after sickness. I have bruises from falling. I will try ginger ale and toast, then back to sleep as I am tired from wakefulness in the middle of the night, with my vision so mottled that I could not read. This was not my plan for aging. Caption: Betrayed By A Mottled Migraine, by Annmarie Throckmorton 2018.

...admonishments...

When I was an infant just learning how to stand up, I remember my father putting me into my crib each night and admonishing me to lay down quietly and go to sleep. I would pop up, cling to the rails, and try to get him to pick me up. One evening when he shook his finger at me in admonishment, I got the bright idea of playing the gesture, and I shook my baby finger right back at him. He laughed with appreciation of my audacity, me a baby correcting him the head of household. It became a favorite story of ours, he said I was still doing it. Correcting the adult male of the human species is risky business though. When I was in my mid-forties, studying and teaching sociology in the Master’s

Bastille Day Memorial – 2016

This memorial is for the 84 killed and 202 injured when a terrorist drove a heavy delivery truck through family crowds celebrating Bastille Day in the French seaside city of Nice, on July 14, 2016. I created it so many ways, because there were so many impacted. Caption: Bastille Day 2016 Memorial, 1-5. by Annmarie Throckmorton.

In Memory of my mother, Phyllis Marie Throckmorton, DOB 01-28-29, DOD 10-07-13.

Mother's obituary read: Phyllis Marie Throckmorton, (née McGrew), B.S. (accounting) from Fisher College of Business at the Ohio State University, PA (Public Accountant), CFE (Certified Fraud Examiner) was an Assistant Auditor for the State of Ohio for 17 years. Phyllis was the beloved wife and “the most intelligent woman I ever met” of Peter Eugene Throckmorton, PhD a retired Senior Research Chemist. Phyllis is preceded in death by her father Loren, mother Hazel, sister Betty, and brother Edward. She is survived by her husband Peter, brother Loren, sister Mary, 3 children (Ann Marie, Carla, Peter), and the children of daughter Carla and son-in-law Robert Hertz (Jason, Tristan, Michael & d

IN MEMORIAL for my father, Peter Eugene Throckmorton, Ph.D.

BLOOMINGTON — Peter Eugene Throckmorton, Ph.D. (organic chemistry), of Bloomington, passed away at age 88 at 5 p.m. Monday (Jan. 18, 2016) at OSF St. Joseph Medical Center, Bloomington. Peter was a retired senior research chemist. Peter was preceded in death by his mother, Carla Margaret Throckmorton; his grandmother, Anna Strim; and his beloved wife, Phyllis Throckmorton, a retired assistant state auditor. He is survived by his three children, Annmarie, Peter and Carla (Robert), and three grandchildren, Jason, Tristan and Michael. Peter enjoyed reading a wide range of science and world news, with memberships including American Chemical Society (emeritus), American Association for the Advanc

such a long drive for such an old woman, and for nothing

Yesterday I obeyed a letter from the presiding judge over the Law Division of Cook County Circuit Court in Illinois instructing me to appear on 01-18-18 for a hearing before a trial judge in my late father’s loss of limb lawsuit against his former nursing home; even though I had argued in half a dozen motions and telephone calls over the past two months that a trial hearing should not be required at this time as the motion judge had ruled that one of my co-defendants was in default for not answering my summons, and the other co-defendant had evaded service by not opening his door to accept my summons (security at his luxury homes in a nice Chicago suburb and Miami Beach, Florida facilitated

Words In The Old Style

I miss the twentieth century way of communicating, by letter by hand. I preferred to write with a fountain pen because I could feel the romantic draw of the ink against the paper, and so many beautiful inks were available. In the seventies I had assorted seals and sealing wax. The post office, which was a kinder, gentler institution then, delivered my wax-sealed missives intact. I kept an assortment of stationary for different purposes, for business with matching envelopes, for remembrance on the holidays, fine papers for loving words, and cute or comic cards for fun. Girlfriends wrote to me about their family activities, the new additions, their worries, hopes, and joys. They wrote it a

...the meaning of man...

Putting the women of the world, essentially half of the human population, linguistically aside for a moment—here is a conundrum for the stout of heart. Ordinarily, when referring to nationalities in the English language there appears to be a valuation that may no longer be intended, but which haunts the word “man” with prejudices from the past. Consider that when referring to the nationality of the English, the French, the Dutch, and the German, one says Englishman, Dutchman, or Frenchman; and then German has the “man” built directly into it. One does not refer to an American or a South American as Americanman or South Americanman, but as an American or a South American, leaving off the “m

Boxed Colors

I enjoy the form, color, composition, and emotion, but underneath I fear the jingoism. There is a fine line between jingoism and nationalism to keep Us safe from Them. Caption: Boxed Colors, by Annmarie Throckmorton 2018.

Dear Lord hear our prayer, protect this world from war.

The world needs everyone wide awake and working with a kind heart for the betterment of ourselves and future generations. Hawaii, mainland America, and all sixteen territories must be fully awake to be strong and safe, especially during this North Korean crisis. So, thank you to commentator Alex Jones for the work he does to wake us all up to reality. Alex Jones reports on new news for a safer and saner world, which is surprising because he frequently lapses into insane speech and mannerisms. So goes the human condition. Caption: Commentator Alex Jones Contemplates The Nuclear, screen captured and framed by Annmarie Throckmorton on 01-14-18.

There are from 40,000 to 80,000 white whales worldwide. Is that enough?

I did not see any white whales during my cruise up the arctic coast of Norway, but pods of white whales live there. White whales are considered small for whales, weighing around 3000 pounds with an average length of 12-14 feet. They can dive to a depth of over 2000 feet. They have a bulbous forehead, upward curving mouth, and a satiny white body. When I saw them glide by the viewing window, they did not seem small, they seemed very large and pitifully cramped into that small tank. And, these captive white whales lacked the bulbous foreheads of healthy animals. Can the zookeepers not see that? If they are in that tank for life, they will be there for thirty to fifty years, able to dive

my father’s new orthopedic shoes

I do not know if there is anyone in the world who would recognize the pathos in my late father’s shoes, with his eighty-plus years of weight and exertion worn into them, as art but the way this image pulls at my filial heartstrings tell me it is so. What a huge effort I made to overcome his fearful, elderly resistance to change and get him into the car so that I could take him to the podiatrist to be fitted for orthopedic shoes. And what huge happiness when he felt how comfortable those orthopedic shoes were. Then such sadness just half a year later, when he had an awful stroke and needed only one of his orthopedic shoes because he lost a leg at the nursing home. I still cry. On a lighte

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