Blistered

I am pleasantly boggled as I reflect on the things I have done with my life. I wish to share with new friends just a very few of these. I have been a professional donut slinger, have published a faith-based book and can say I have a dang Library of Congress number for it, AND! - I have even changed the U-joints on a pickup truck. Well, somebody had to do it! In fact, most of what I did was because no one else wanted to but had to be done to maintain life as we know it. Now at my age I do as I darn well please and I do it to the best of my ability. If I could do what I want to do most, I would surely be happy to look at my hands and say goodness gracious, I have me a blister! None of my past accomplishments have brought as much satisfaction like the instant gratification a good ‘ol blister does.

There was a time when even writing was sure to produce a blister on my finger as I held a pencil or pen. Oh! Golly did I ever get a set of beauties from a project using crayons! My artwork is really simple and comparable to a child’s but it pleases me anyway. Well, obviously when I make up my mind to do something, I work very hard at it. The thing I will never be able to do is write something which exhibits any evidence of any real intelligence. But I’m happy to keep my writing simplistic and fun. Otherwise, my attempts might yield reactions such as “ignorance prevails” on the comments following my posts. And besides, I would rather be applying my energy to doing useful things around the house, or for someone in need that no one would critique as having merit or substance - like earning a blister.