ERJ, my eastern redbud that I’ve written about multiple times on my blog, has been slowly dying all summer and now into the fall. Strangely, he had the most beautiful blooms this year he’s ever had. This past spring, I mean. He’s got borers. They did their damage. I tried everything, but I couldn’t save him. I knew I wouldn’t be able to, but I tried anyway. The loss of this tree really hurts. Some parts of his branches are still pliable, but most are brittle. The bark now splitting from lack of life. But I noticed today a bright spot of pink. And then another. Arising from the broken, cracked bark and perched alongside seedpods as brittle as dead leaves, ERJ blooms one last time.
ERJ – photo taken October 10, 2025 ERJ – photo taken October 10, 2025
I’m a finder of lost things and valuables that belong to others
And animals that are lost or hurt
I found her struggling on the sidewalk
I halted my walk in more ways than one
Scooped her up in my hands, and she desperately tried to fly
She had no visible injuries
Not to my eyes
I took her to my neighbor’s where I thought she might find some blooms
I offered her water from my tiny bottle cap
She did lap it up and for a moment, and I thought that was that
But she still could not fly
Even though she desperately tried
So I brought her home in a shoebox with some flowers
But that’s not the part I really want to talk about
I want to tell you how she recognized my voice and how her antennae responded when I talked to her kindly
I want to tell you she was perfect with not a spot on her to explain why she was dying
I pet her little body and talked to her sweetly
I told her she was beautiful, and although she couldn’t get to her destination
She would stay here with me
I hoped for a miracle overnight, but I knew better
At first light, I checked her shoe box and she was nearly dead, so weak she was, ants were crawling on her
I brought her in the house and showed her all the plants
I told her I loved her and would take care of her
I put her in a plastic bag and placed it in the freezer
(This is how to humanely euthanize butterflies when they are already dying)
I took her out twenty four hours later and laid her on the table. She looked the same, but her body wasn’t contorted anymore. Her antenna relaxed to a normal position rather than contracted in a sort of grimace
They say butterflies don’t feel pain. I don’t believe them.
I want to know why a beautiful, gentle creature meant to migrate thousands of miles only flew a few feet before starting to die
And other malevolent beings are granted the gift of a lengthy, destructive life
I want to know why
Regina trying to flyHer shoebox full of bloomsRegina I, Danaus plexippus
One of my biggest pet peeves is seeing the word “loose” used incorrectly to mean “lose.” I cry in Proper Grammar when I see this on social media. It makes me sad. It makes me want to pick up my red pen and start editing. Yes, I am the Grammar Police, and if I catch you, you will not get loose, but you will definitely lose!
My job asks a lot of me and my brain. For ten hours, I am essentially a computer analyzing data with some math computations thrown in. Music playing the background is a distraction, as is anyone talking. The birds are welcome to talk amongst themselves outside, and even yell at me for not putting out the peanuts quickly enough, but other than that? Silencio.
Yes, Disturbed covered this song, but I prefer the original.
The ability to judge what is worth pondering or taking on. The insight and intuition to decide that something isn’t for you. The capability to decide that if something isn’t for you, you can leave it and go on about your day.
The wisdom to own your own shit and know that other peoples’ shit is not yours to own. To not give a fuck if people don’t like that you curse.
To determine it’s perfectly acceptable to water your plants wearing your bathrobe and your slippers. To go out in a very nice outfit, but not wear a stitch of makeup on your face. (This is closely related to wearing a bathrobe to water your plants.) Also, with age comes the knowledge and the understanding that what people see on the outside is not who you are on the inside. And who you are on the inside is much more important than what you look like.
My birthday is tomorrow. One more trip around the sun. Susie passed away in my lap this past Monday, and my best friend’s mother died about five hours later. It has been a difficult week, and I have scaled it alone, save for several good souls. And I have made it through. With age comes inner strength you didn’t know you had.
With age comes discernment. With age comes the knowledge that grief is love. You learn people can only ever treat you the way they feel about themselves. Sometimes you can do everything possible, but if you are misunderstood by others, it won’t make a difference. And you have to just let that shit go.
I have learned pets are a gift from above. Animals do not offer conditional love, theirs is only unconditional. They love simply because that’s what they do. For people who don’t know the love of a pet, or specifically a cat, I’m sorry. Your life has not been enriched in the way that mine has. Tiny humans grow up and they begin to place conditions on their love. It’s what the world does to us. But a pet never does. A 17-year-old cat still loves unconditionally, the same as when they were a tiny baby. My birthday wish is that humans may strive to be less conditional with their love, and be more like “animals.”
List three books that have had an impact on you. Why?
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston – this is my all-time favorite book. I needed three credits in English so I took a summer course at my university and was introduced to the Harlem Renaissance. It’s not an exaggeration to say it changed my life. There was something magical about Ms. Hurston’s use of language. It envelopes and evokes. I still have the copy of the book for that class tucked away safely on my bookshelf. I do not let anyone borrow it.
My copy has this cover
2. Outlander by Diana Gabaldon – this is my second all-time favorite book. I had no idea what I was getting into when I started this book and series. I sent an email to the author when I finished this book and she replied. I printed it out and tucked it into the paperback, which has been read so many times it’s earmarked with love. Yes, I have the rest of the books too. Yes, I waited for what felt like 65 years for the show to be created. Yes, I’m waiting on season eight during the usual Droughtlander. But, I should say upfront the books are nothing like the series because the books are typically 1000 pages of genius storytelling, and though the series is based on the books, it in no way comes close to the original. This book is impactful due to its ability for the reader to step through the stones, as it were. It’s a place to get lost in if you’re looking to get lost. 
This isn’t my copy – mine is old and well loved and also I do not think it states on the cover that it is a New York Times best seller
3. Love Match by yours truly
Yes, it might sound a little strange to say this book impacted me a great deal, but if you’ve written a book, you know what I’m talking about. It doesn’t matter if your book was published or not, if you have written a book and it is yours, it has changed your life. If you tell other people, and they read your book, it changes you even more. When people start to have opinions about your words, that is probably the greatest impact. It takes a lot of courage to write and have other people read what you’ve written. One could even call a blog a type of book. It’s a book that keeps writing itself each day. It’s something that means something to the writer, but also it’s something that the reader takes part in. And it takes courage from the author to post their words. Words on a blog can be equally if not more impactful than an entire bound book. But that’s a different subject for a different day.
My Book
Incidentally, when I was looking for an image of my own book to post here, I found out my book is being sold on eBay for $29.08. Just a suggestion: my book isn’t that expensive brand new. I’m not sure that the seller is going to make any profit after shipping – unless of course, they found a brand new copy of my book. But another question then begs to be asked: where is my royalty check?
Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?
Are we talking about baby books that older adults read to you? Are we talking about the first book you read to yourself? Are we talking about the books you would buy at the Scholastic book fair? The fair they had every year in the trailer, and you would walk in and it would smell like new books and you knew this was your place? Or are we talking about books you read as an older child, the books that formed who you are and showed you other worlds can exist. And not only can you read them, you can write them.
I am sure they’re all in my memory somewhere, but they all exist as one.
Probably one or two of you know I had a previous blog which is not deleted, but is archived. WordPress informed me today I started that blog twelve years ago.
Nothing much came of that blog, but I created a new one, which is the one you see now. Still though, twelve years? Maybe a suitable gift from WordPress would be new daily prompts!?
Happy birthday, original blog. Thanks for being here, everyone. Let’s have some cake! 
“It's Amy,” I said. 