Finding Silver Linings in Strange Places

Sunset over Cadillac Mountain in Maine, with warm orange light spreading across layered hills and a forested foreground beneath a glowing sky.

When Life Hands You a Plot Twist

Sometimes life hands you a plot twist you never asked for. Not the kind you get when your plane is delayed and you’re stuck at the airport with a $12 sandwich and a dying phone battery. I mean the kind that knocks you sideways, steals your plans, and leaves you staring at a ceiling wondering what comes next.

And yet, every so often, those detours end up pointing us somewhere unexpectedly beautiful. You may have to dig a little to find the silver lining — sometimes with a shovel — but I really do believe it’s there if you look.

Little Richard Starkey and the Sanatorium Drum

I learned today that in 1953 Ringo Starr — yes, that Ringo Starr, the famous drummer for the Beatles — spent two years in a sanatorium after developing tuberculosis. Back then he was just little Richard Starkey, a kid from Liverpool whose world had suddenly shrunk to the size of a hospital ward. The staff tried to keep the children from sinking into boredom and loneliness, so they handed out simple percussion instruments. A triangle here, a drum there.

And that’s where Ringo first fell in love with drumming. A sick child, stuck in a hospital, discovers the thing that will carry him through the rest of his life. The thing that will make him famous. The thing that will make millions of people smile.

Stephen Hawking and the Two‑Year Diagnosis That Lasted 50 Years

It reminded me of another story — Stephen Hawking. Diagnosed with ALS at 21 and told he had two years to live. Instead, he lived more than five decades. His illness didn’t make him brilliant, but it forced him to think differently, to work differently, to focus on the kind of deep theoretical questions that don’t require a lab — just a mind sharp enough to wander the universe. And wander it he did.

Harrison Ford: Rejection, Carpentry, and a Chance Encounter

And then there’s Harrison Ford. Today he’s Indiana Jones, Han Solo, and a real-life hero who once flew a helicopter into Yellowstone to help rescue a missing boy. But before all that, he was told by a studio executive that he had no talent and would never make it in Hollywood. The exec even said, “When Tony Curtis walked into this office, I knew he was a star.” Ford’s reply? “I thought he was supposed to be a waiter.” Dry, sharp, and pure Harrison Ford.

He took the rejection, became a carpenter to support his family, and that detour put him in the right place at the right time. His carpentry work led him to George Lucas, who hired him to build cabinets… and then cast him in American Graffiti, and later Star Wars. The door slammed shut, and he climbed in through the workshop window.

The Quiet Truth Behind These Stories

All three stories hum with the same quiet truth: Bad things don’t magically become good. But humans are astonishingly good at finding light in dark places.

My Own Chapters and Silver Linings

And when I look at my own life, I see it as a series of chapters. When one ends, something else always seems to come along. Different decisions would have led to different results — who knows where I’d be today if I’d finished college and gotten my degree, or if I’d changed direction earlier and started writing sooner?

But my life today is good. It’s full. Everyday is an adventure, And as Elton John sings, I’m still standing — and as long as I am, there’s time for silver linings.

Deb’s Ready to Dive

 

Breaking News from the Feline Desk – Daylight Saving Time Moves Ahead

Banner and Balboa perched in front of the TV, one orange and fluffy, one black and sleek, looking like feline news anchors.

DST Déjà Vu

Well… here we go again. The House has once more nudged a bill forward to make Daylight Saving Time permanent. It’s not a done deal — it would still need to pass the full House and Senate — but the committee pushed it to the next step. We’ve been down this road before, so consider this another lap around the track.

Critics say keeping time saving daylight as a permanent fixture would mean darker mornings, groggy commutes, and kids waiting for buses in the shadows. Proponents counter that lighter evenings mean fewer accidents and a little more sunshine in our day.

Banner and Balboa have weighed in, of course. They love springing forward — earlier breakfast is a win in their book. But as for the concept of Daylight and Saving Time, “falling back”? Absolute chaos. Too many delays. Too much waiting. Feline outrage everywhere.

So what do you think? Would you want to keep Saving Time Daylight all year: good idea, bad idea, or “haven’t we talked about this every few years since the dawn of time”?

And finally, as Daylight Saving changes come up yet again, inquiring minds want to know your opinion.

Woke Up on the Blue Side of the Bed

“Me performing onstage with my red electric guitar, singing into the microphone. I’m wearing a black outfit with white lace sleeves and a pearl necklace, completely lost in the music. I loved that guitar — still can’t believe I ever let it go.”

I’m Not Singing the Blues Today

Hi Folks,

I woke up on the blue side of the bed this morning. For one thing, Banner and Balboa actually let me sleep — that alone should be cause for celebration. Maybe I got too much sleep. I can’t tell because my Fitbit isn’t syncing, but I do know I woke up at 6:45 instead of my usual 5:30. I was looking forward to a pat on the head instead of the usual “You had a restless night…” message. No such luck.

To cheer myself up, I took a little trip back in time through my blog stats. On July 13 last year, I had 1 view and 1 visitor for the entire day. Yesterday? 366 views and 353 visitors. WOW. And they came from all over the world — the U.S., Hong Kong, Belgium, Singapore, China, Spain… even Nepal. I guess I should be dancing in the streets.

It occurred to me that happiness is a choice. So I’m making that choice today and shaking off this blue mood. Nothing annoys me more than people who complain on a loop, like a broken record. I refuse to be one of those.

Neil Diamond sings in Song Sung Blue that you can sing it with a cry in your voice, and before you know it, you get to feeling good — you simply got no choice. That’s what I’m going to do.

So back to writing. Banner and Balboa will interrupt me and demand treats. My routine will go on, and before you know it, I’ll be feeling good. I’ve simply got no choice.

Have a great day, everyone.

 

Some days The Dragon Wins

A green dragon lounging against a tree in a grassy field, casually using a knight’s lance like a toothpick. Pieces of defeated knight armor are scattered around, with a castle visible in the distance. The dragon looks relaxed and victorious, as if enjoying a quiet moment after winning a battle.

Some Days the Dragon Wins

Retirement is great… until it’s not. Anyone on a fixed income will tell you that making ends meet at the end of each month is the biggest challenge. Us old folks have medical bills you whipper snappers can’t even imagine, plus the aches and pains that remind us we’re still alive. On top of that, we have to watch every penny. Creative accounting becomes a skill set. I’m pretty good at it — but today wasn’t one of those days. Some days the dragon wins.

Everything Hits at Once

Today is grocery shopping day. I like to stock up when things are on sale so I have a freezer full of options on the lean weeks. Today’s list was pretty basic. While I was checking the old cash flow, an alert flew across my phone: Forever stamps are going up to 82¢. What!? Wow. That’s a lot. Almost a dollar just to pay a bill. And of course the only bills I still mail are the medical ones — the ones that make paying online feel like earning a college degree.

And then the rest of the week decided to join the party. Chewy hits on July 10 for $89, and Kitty Poo Club is shipping the same day for another $91. Pet essentials — no negotiating. You can’t delay food, and you certainly can’t run out of litter. That would be the feline version of me running out of toilet paper. Absolutely not happening.

Meanwhile, the Postal Service is raising Forever stamps on July 12. Naturally. Add it to the pile.

Good thing I still have a stash of Christmas Forever stamps from back when they were around 45¢. My tiny inflation win for the week.

Well… it is what it is. At least I stocked up on toilet paper last week.

 

 

The Feline Geneva Convention: Peace Talks in the Kitty Jungle

Two cats rest together on a carpeted floor near a window. A black cat is stretched out on its side, and an orange cat is curled up beside it. Soft natural light from the window creates a calm, cozy scene with a cat tree in the background.

Two cats sit together on a carpet near a glass door, the orange cat upright and the black cat lounging beside him, both looking like they’re deep in important “cat business.”

Go away hooman. we’re busy

The Great Truce of the Kitty Jungle

I don’t know what’s going on in the halls of cat chaos, but Banner and Balboa seem to have worked out a truce of sorts. Looks like they’ve held thier own Geneva Convention and come to terms of some sort.  Balboa is usually the temperamental one, yet lately he’s been right there beside Banner like they’re co‑captains of calm. Maybe there’s hope for World Peace after all.

Summer Sunbathers & Squirrel Watch

Maybe it’s just summer. These two love lounging in front of the slider on warm afternoons, soaking up the sun like tiny furry sunbathers. Mornings have them nose‑to‑screen, vibrating with excitement as squirrels race along the top of the fence like they’re running the Indy 500.

I had high hopes that adding a sock of birdseed to my flower basket would attract sparrows or finches to entertain the boys, but it’s been a couple of weeks and still no interest. We get a few birds on the fence, but none come to visit the hanging basket. We aren’t allowed to have feeders on our decks — the folks on the first floor complained — and honestly, I can’t blame them. Still, I was hoping for at least a few visitors.

Fireworks, Hideouts, and Evening Drama

Evenings are quiet in the condo, mostly because the neighbor is shooting off fireworks every night. As soon as the first bang goes off, Balboa vanishes like a magician’s assistant. I don’t even know where he hides. Banner, not so much. The noise doesn’t bother him — but then, not much does. He’s such a laid‑back kitty cat.

The Cat Grass Chronicles

Both boys are leaving my little AeroGarden alone now that they have their own cat grass. Balboa visits his garden every morning, and usually after dinner I’ll find him poking around in it. Thankfully he seems to have stopped chewing it. When the first garden sprouted, he plowed through it like a furry lawnmower and deposited a pile of cat‑grass straw right in the middle of the hallway. It looked like a slimy haystack. No repeat performances, thank goodness.

Closing Thought

For now, the Kitty Jungle is calm — no zoomies, no turf wars, no dramatic monologues from Balboa. Just two cats enjoying summer, sunshine, and the occasional squirrel show. Peace may be fragile, but I’ll take it while it lasts.

Squirrel in a tree