Raquel Martina Martinez

For the last four years, I have blogged once a week, every Monday at 6 am. Why? 1.     Discipline.  It started as an exercise, forcing me to come up with a topic, forcing me to write it with economy, and forcing me to break out of my introverted shell. Once I promised a weekly blog, I had to keep my word for those who have come to expect my Monday ramblings. 2.     To test my voice.  I love to write.  It is what I do.  Writing is my “creative thing,” my dance, my song, my form of expression, so I write to test and practice my voice. 3.     To create an interest in my writing.  I blog to communicate with others, to chat, laugh, and comfort those who look forward to my weekly blogs. I sometimes write about the craft of writing.  Sometimes I journal, sharing memories or beliefs in hopes that they resonate the same in the reader’s thoughts.  Sometimes I just want to offer comfort or a good laugh.  It is what I do. 

Things in life are never just black or white; sometimes they are grey. Because I am a firm believer of judging things on my own, I bought the Fifty Shades trilogy last year and set out to see what made it so successful.   From all the raves, maybe it had some redeeming qualities that would moot all the controversy I saw nothing spectacular about Book I.  The writing was weak and eager to please. The characters were boring and uninteresting, but then – Bam! – I got to page 97.  In a matter of seconds, Ms. James took me from a maudlin PG-13 story into a Rated X anatomy lesson. I kept expecting one or both of the characters to show less skin and more character, any character at all, but I winced my way to the end of the book without much hope.  Since there were two more books in the set, it was obvious Ana’s resolve at the end of Book I wasn’t going to hold, so I picked up Book II and made it as far as Chapter One before I had enough.  I even cheated and read the last chapter in Boo

“My funny valentine. . . “ My father has been gone over nine years, but my love for him still exists. He was among the best of fathers and I admired and respected him for that. He had a knack of making each one of his children, sons and daughters, feel as if he or she was his favorite. He loved to laugh and joke and tell us how much he loved us, something a child never tires of hearing.   “You make me smile with my heart.” HoneyBunch came along at a time in my life when everyone around me had decided I was Mom, Grandma, and Senior Citizen. Nothing more. There wasn’t any room for anything or anyone else. They weren’t being selfish; they were protective of my feelings and of theirs.  Along came HoneyBunch and he upset the status quo.  He found me youthful and wanted me for his wife. A day does not go by that he does not make me smile. “. . . you’re my favorite work of art.” My arms and heart ache for the years when my grown children were little.  They would squirm when I squ

I turned sixty-five recently, Medicare age. Much to my husband’s chagrin, I often confused Medicare with Medicaid, so being a retired teacher, I started my quest in July by informing myself about my options. I learned that I had a seven month window to enlist in Medicare without acquiring a penalty; I learned there were several parts to Medicare – the most important being A, B, C, and D; I learned I could do it easily online without having to go to the nearest Social Security Office. If I started in October or November, I could get this over and done with by the start of my “birthday month” – January. This is the story of my snipe hunt: First week in November – The Texas Teacher Retirement System (TRS) called and demanded my Medicare number ASAP! (So much for my seven-month window!)  My current health insurance with them had enrolled me in a new prescription program but they needed my number by early December!!!!  I also received a packet from TRS. If I wanted to stay with my