And lived to tell about it

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Photo by Haus of Zeros on Unsplash

Dang, that went by fast. The I Am Sober app informed me of this milestone today — 186 days — 6 months. Well whaddya know!

Yep, half a year ago today, I unceremoniously decided to stop drinking. I made no lifetime commitment, I just decided that I don’t like drinking anymore.

Well that’s not exactly true. I love drinking. OMG a cold IPA with a hot pizza is the best combo going. Or a big ol’ glass of full-bodied red (or three) with a plate of Pasta alla Puttanesca. Stop it. You’re making me hungry. And thirsty.

My drinking career…

Just keep moving your feet

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Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

A few weeks ago, a very wise GoDaddy customer service person may have just changed my life.

You see, I have this semi-expensive habit of purchasing domain names. Some of them have been in use for years as legit websites, but most just sit there, waiting to be used — or not. Sometimes I just think it’s a cool (or dare I say brilliant) URL, and someone will pay me big bucks for it. Alas, that has not happened. Yet.

As these things expire, and are automatically renewed, it’s become a bit pricey. I mean, they’re just sitting there. So…

This introvert thinks so

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Photo by Joshua Sortino on Unsplash

I’m a photographer, and a writer — mostly. I have a bunch of other interests/side hustles, and I’m continually distracted by the next shiny thing. I sell art on Etsy, T-shirts on Threadless, and puzzles on Redbubble. Oh, and I have a full-time job, too.

My inner life is rich, and I live to create. And along with all this creating (and selling, ideally), comes sharing. I put my stuff out there — on Instagram, and Facebook, and Twitter, and right here on Medium.

The internet really is a beautiful thing. I mean, I can sell my work and I…

It’s about time the subject came out of the WC

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Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash

Poop is gross. Ain’t nobody gonna deny that. But it’s a part of everyday life, if we’re lucky — and talking about it should not be so taboo.

Recently, I had to poop in a bucket. Then I had to add a bottle of liquid to it, box it up, and send it to the lab. I was not looking forward to doing this — and avoided it, until I could put it off no longer.

I mean, in the natural order of things, we poop into the toilet, and flush it away, and we have no further interaction with…

And keeping this weight OFF

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Photo from

At 59 years old, I just lost 23 pounds. Again. The last time I lost this much weight was about 6 years ago — and it took me that long to put it all back on.

Oh, I could’ve gained it back much faster than that, but I do try to stay on top of these things. Let’s see — 23 pounds divided by 6 years — that’s less than four pounds a year. No big whoop. As it’s happening, it’s barely noticeable.

Then all of a sudden none of my clothes fit, and I can barely squeeze into my…

Take it from me

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Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

At the beginning of 2020, I weighed 170 pounds. I was a lethargic couch potato with a desk job, prone to eating big bags of chips and/or pints of Ben & Jerry’s in one sitting. Many evenings, I also enjoyed drinking several high alcohol content beers along with said chips.

Going way back, I was a chubby, introverted kid, who discovered cigarettes and alcohol around age 12. I liked both things very much, and continued to (ab)use both for the next 35+ years.

I put down the smokes around 50, but continued to enjoy my brewskis, or wine, or whatever…

And other pleasant surprises

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Warren Zevon, one of my favorite musical artists, died of lung cancer in 2003. I watched David Letterman interview him, just a few weeks before he passed. He admittedly never went to a doctor — and by the time his symptoms of lung cancer manifested, it was too late.

This stuck with me, because I am also a bit doctor-phobic. And as an ex-smoker, lung cancer has been my biggest fear — especially since I am in the high-risk “30-Pack-Years” category (meaning I smoked a pack a day for 30 years).

So when I was told to get a lung…

Now kindly unfriend me, please

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Photo by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabona on Unsplash

A while back, I “unfriended” someone on Facebook because of his blatantly racist posts. At first I just “unfollowed” him — meaning we were still friends, but now I would not see his vitriol pop up on my feed. But then I thought, oh Hell naw, why do I want to have any association with this person at all? I don’t. So bye.

For some reason, I decided to take a look at his page yesterday, and it did not disappoint. He is still a fire-breathing racist, evidenced by a meme showing the Kenosha shooter, with some “funny” text on…

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Susanne Jutzeler on

How will you be remembered?

As Covid-19 continues to prevent working with hospice patients, we volunteers have been gathering virtually. The topic of this week’s meeting was all about our individual legacies, and what object represents our unique existence. What will we leave? How will we be remembered? What are we known for now?

Our legacies are as unique as our fingerprints. And that was evidenced as we each took our turn showing or describing our “object”. …

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Photo by Krishnam Moosaddee on Unsplash

My father was a gentle giant, and despite enduring many hardships that would make some bitter, he spoke softly, and was a kind soul. A little rough around the edges — despite my mother’s attempts to polish him — he was not to be changed.

Apparently, my mom was drawn to him because he was a bad boy. Unlike the other guys, who took her out for ice cream sodas — this older and more worldly suitor, took her to taverns, for beers and dancing.

They were married for 57 years when they died, within weeks of each other.


Linda Horton

Born a photographer, but prone to writing haiku on public transportation, or baking things. Death Doula in training.

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