Karma

I read that George Zimmerman will be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.

It is a bit ironic that the very situation Zimmerman created has led to him living in the same state of fear in perpetuity as a result of his own action.

I can almost -- almost -- accept that as justice. ~~GH
[Tomorrow: Your Very Own Dolphin]

Bounce With It

So my next-door neighbor, Pogo Stick Boy, has assumed a new persona. He is now Basketball Dribbling Boy. He practices bouncing a ball over, and over, and over, and over, and over. Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, ad infinitum. 

It's soothing, in its own way -- repetitive, comforting in its sameness. 

Like Chinese water torture.

I suspect this child is my Karma for the tennis ball bouncing I did all those many years ago. I hit tennis balls against our garage door for three to four hours a day, every day, seven days a week, weather permitting, for about a dozen years.

No wonder Mom drank. ~~GH

P.S. to Karma, Valley Bell, etc.

Karma worked overtime the other evening. Not only did the fun connections referred to below take place, but even more happened.

I found a beautiful photograph of that morning's sunrise in my hometown. It was stunning, truly unusually beautiful (not at all like what you think of when you think of Charleston, WV). I clicked on the photographer's Facebook page, to see who he was, to possibly ask permission to use that photo. He used a nickname, not an actual name, so I clicked around his page to see if I could determine who he was. Lo and behold, I discovered he was the same man who maintains the site with the link to the flood where I discovered all that information!

It truly is a small world, and Karma is just awesome.

Karma, Facebook, and the Valley Bell

Karma is so cool. Tonight on Facebook, some folks were discussing a huge milk carton that used to be on top of a dairy in my hometown. It looked like it was pouring milk into a glass (had a twirling effect and looked "real"). One guy said his niece or someone doubted it was true. So I went looking for a photo online for him.

Back in 1961, my family was involved in a deadly flash flood where over 1500 folks were made homeless, and 22 died. One of those was my best friend. I watched her die, and have been traumatized by it for fifty years. So traumatized that I could never remember her name. What does this have to do with anything?

By searching for that photo of the milk carton, I came across a site with newspaper clippings about the flood. My mother's name was listed among the injured treated at the local hospital, along with our address. From that address, I was able to read through the other newspaper articles and discover my friend's name from her address (which I had never known and no one in my family is alive who is older than me to ask).

Now, after 50 years, I can rest knowing my friend's name. Nancy Lou Simonds, I loved you. May you rest in peace. ♥

So by trying to do a good deed for someone else, a good deed was done to me. Thanks, Karma.

Link to site about the flood: CLICK HERE - OPENS IN NEW WINDOW