Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I couldn’t believe it!  My oldest childhood doll, Chatty Cathy, was waddling toward me!  I rushed over and gave her the biggest hug!


Chatty Cathy!  What are you doing here?

CHATTY CATHY DOLL:  I heard you were visiting these parts and I had to see you!

OMG!  You look great!

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Well, I’d look better if you hadn’t given me a bad haircut back when you were a little girl. I still don’t appreciate the bald spot in the back of my head.


I’m so sorry.  My sister and I were playing barber.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: I guess you felt you had to wash my hair with Ajax, too?

It probably didn’t help the texture.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: But I loved you anyway!  You were the best little girl!  We had the silliest imaginary tea parties!  And the craziest times playing house!  And I loved when you shoved me on the make believe school bus with all the rest of the dolls and your sister pushed us all around the room in a giant chair.

Yeah, you just went around and around and around the room and never made it to school.


Yes, they were. And I’ll let you in on a secret.  I’m still a little girl.  I still love to play and play and play and play.  It’s just harder to find someone to play with as I get older.

CHATTY CATHY: I’ll  play with you!

You will??  I would love that!  What should we play?  I mean, I’m not into having an imaginary tea party or playing house anymore. How can we play with each other now that we’re both older?  What can we play?

CHATTY CATHY: Hmmm…I’m not sure.  I should tell you the “talking ring” on the back of my neck doesn’t work anymore.  When you pull it out, the spring is broken so it just snaps back.

It doesn’t matter, I don’t work as well as I used to either. I guess if we’re going to play, we should play about something that matters in our lives right now. 


I know! 


Hear me out. I’ve been thinking about adding a little pink or purple in my hair for the past few years. But, I don’t want to bleach my hair to do it. Also, I’m wondering if I’m too old to walk around with that look.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: So, what made you think of it now?

I just noticed L’Oreal came out with a new one-day color spray product.  You can spray pink or purple in your hair and it will wash out after one shampoo!  So if you don’t like it or feel foolish, one hair wash and it’s gone.


Well, I’m still kind of afraid, so…

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: You want me to do it.


CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Actually, I could use a change.

I’ll tell you what.  I’ll just do your bangs.


Here I go…


Wow!!!! You look amazing!!!!

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Thanks. You know what?  I love it!  This is really uplifting and fun!

It was fun for me to spray you, too!  Like when we used to play barber, but better. Because this time you actually look good.

Did you notice you got some on my dress?

Oh. I’m sorry.  I’ll wash it.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Now spray some pink in YOUR hair.

Um…I’m still afraid. I don’t know…Should I do it???



Who still plays with their old toys?  Come on.  You can say it.


Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I came to an Amusement Park with a Horror House.  I went inside, but instead of encountering a ghost or skeleton, I came across something much more frightening: the word “The End.”  Of course, I had to begin a conversation…


Uh, so, you’re “the end?”

THE END:  Yes.  But I’m a complete failure. I hate my life.


THE END: You know, I think maybe I was a really horrible person in another life, so I came back as the word “the end.”  Everyone hates me. It’s ongoing torture.

I can see how people wouldn’t like the sight of you because you represent “the end” of a great book…or “the end” of a fantastic movie.

THE END: Not to mention, “the end” of a vacation, “the end” of a romantic date, “the end” of an era…

But that’s assuming all those experiences are good ones.  If you’re “the end” of a bad movie, everyone will welcome you.  If you’re “the end” of a terrible vacation, people will be happy you show up.  Know what I mean?

THE END: Yes. But no matter what, I represent change.  Transition.  People are always intimidated by me. It’s so horrible.

Listen, in my older age, I’ve given a lot of thought to the meaning of “the end.”  One thing that seems to be true is, when something ends, something else always begins. So it’s not like “the end” represents total nothingness.

THE END: You mean, like…when a beautiful day ends, a starry night begins?

Yes. Or…when a pregnancy ends, a child enters the world.  When a caterpillar’s stage of life ends, its life as a butterfly begins. When the rain ends, the sun comes out.  When  you come to “the end” of a beautiful hiking trail, you might be at the top of an amazing mountain.  

THE END: Or…when graduation ends, you get to have a party.

Something like that.

THE END: Okay, but let’s stop beating around the bush. Let’s get to what’s most frightening about “the end.”

Which is?

THE END: Death.  What happens after you die?  No one knows if that’s “the end.” And since I’m so incompetent, I can’t answer that either.

Maybe we can look at it this way… When something ends, something new always begins.  So why would death be the one and only exception?

THE END:  I don’t know.

And,…when we pass on, others remember us.  Thoughts and messages we share seem to live on with those who are still on the earth.  In that way, we don’t end.

THE END: Hmmm…

So, maybe the answer is…as long as we’re fortunate enough to be here, we can just go on trying to make the world a better place.  We can keep searching for ways to make our lives meaningful to others.

THE END: You’re pretty good at this.  Do you want to switch places?  I’ll be a human and you be “the end?”

No thank you. But I’m glad we had this conversation. Are you feeling a little better?

THE END: Yes.  I mean, no.

No? Why not?

THE END: Because, once again, “the end” is coming.

“The end” of what?

THE END: The end of this post!!!!!  We have nothing else to say to each other, so it’s over!  “The End!”  Oh!  I hate my life!!!!

Hang on. Maybe the post is ending, but the comment section is beginning.


So maybe others who are reading this post will have something to say.  Or maybe they’ll click the “like” button. In that way, a new part of this post is beginning.

THE END: But what if no one comments?  Then it will really be “the end!”  What if everyone forgets?  Or what if everybody hated the post?  Or what if they’re too busy to write a comment?  Or what if they can’t think of anything to say?  Or what if….


Dear Blogger friends, please write SOMETHING in the comment box or click the “like” button.  Save my sanity!     🙂                            —Cathi  


CONVERSATION WITH…An Elderly Shark…Reflecting on the shark inside her

On a hot day Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I decided to go for a swim in the ocean.  Suddenly, a shark swam over!   Aaaah!!!!!


Shark! Don’t eat me!  I’m older!  But I’m too young to die!

SHARK:  Calm down. I have no intention of eating you.

I thought sharks ate people.

SHARK: If you confuse us, we’ll take a nibble.  Otherwise, we prefer other delicacies.  Just don’t confuse me.

 I won’t confuse you.

SHARK: But I should tell you, I do have one other eating related issue. Many years ago, I ate another shark.  I mean, some sharks do eat other sharks, but that doesn’t make it right.  I feel bad knowing I have a shark inside me.  I still have nightmares about it.

If it makes you feel better, I have a shark inside me, too.

SHARK:  Should I be swimming away from you?

No. Not that kind of shark.  It’s a metaphor for a really aggressive side of myself. But it’s strange.  I’ve noticed as I grow older, I don’t feel the shark inside me as much as I used to.  I don’t know what’s happening to me.  Am I settling for less?  Am I depressed?

SHARK:  I’m not sure I understand what you mean.

Well, when I was younger, if there was a job opportunity I was passionate about, or I had a creative goal that meant the world to me, I felt a “shark” inside me that drove me toward what I wanted with incredible force. 

SHARK: Ooooh.

And when that “shark” inside me took over, I didn’t hurt anyone physically, but I might have hurt others emotionally along the way without realizing it.  I was so focused on what I was going for, I’m not sure I was completely aware of my behavior.

SHARK: Ugh. What about now?

Now I feel more like a tuna fish. When I’m passionate about something I want to do, I meander steadily toward it, but I look from side to side and take in what’s around me.  If something doesn’t feel quite right or off balance, I stop, think about it, and make changes till I’m in sync with the universe.

SHARK:  If you don’t mind that I’m adding my two cents, it sounds like what you’re doing now might make you feel more grounded. And when you get where you’re going, you’ll arrive with perspective and wisdom.

Is it possible this is actually a good thing about growing older?

SHARK: Who knew?

Oh wow!  Thank you so much for your help!

SHARK: Hold it! What about me?  I still feel bad about eating that shark years ago. Any words of wisdom to help me through it?

Well…on one hand, I guess you shouldn’t have done that. On the other hand, lots of sharks have eaten other sharks, so it probably felt like a natural thing to do.  On the other hand, at that time, there were probably other things to eat in the ocean, so choosing that shark was a bad idea. On the other hand, sometimes we have to learn from our mistakes.  On the other hand–

SHARK:  Aaaah!  You’re confusing me!  I told you not to confuse me!

 I’m outa here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Do you have a shark?  How’s it doing?

CONVERSATION WITH…THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST…Her New Year’s Resolution: Letting go of her water phobia later in life.

This is an older post, but I feel we can all benefit from the witch’s words. At the very least, she’s entitled to speak her peace as 2018 begins,  Here goes…

On sunny days, the Wicked Witch of the West is seen a lot here on the Yellow Brick Road.  She has a neurotic side.  It’s obvious she has severe water pobia, but she’s not completely crazy.  If water splashes on her, she’ll melt.  Here, as a new year begins, she agrees to talk to me about her efforts to finally let go of her lifelong fear.

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Wicked Witch, what’s inspiring you to try to end your fear of water after all these years?

WW:  Fear of being touched by water has prevented me from experiencing so much in life!  It’s strangling me! I finally want to be free of it!!!!  It’s time!

Yeah!  Water avoidance must make your life a total wreck!

WW:  To sum it up,  I can’t take showers or baths, can’t go swimming, can’t go to the beach. When I cook, I can’t spill water on myself or wash the dishes, so I always pick up take-out. And the obvious one, I can’t go out in the rain.

I definitely understand your feelings.  I’m phobic too. I can’t stand being in elevators, planes, tunnels, total darkness…to name a few.  And I can’t stand getting MRI’s.

WW: That’s the only reason I agreed to talk to you.

Thank you.  But in your case, you have a real reason for being water phobic.  You could die if it touches you.  Has something extreme happened in your life recently that has changed your perspective and made you less afraid?

WW:  Here’s the thing. My sister died.  You know, she was just walking around Oz, minding her own business, when a house came down from the sky, dropped on top of her, and killed her. That blew my mind, and now I see we’re all out of control in the universe and never know what the next moment will bring.  Why not take chances?

So how are you gonna change?

WW:  I’m going out in the rain.

Wow! But if water splashes on you, you’re still as likely to melt as you were before.

WW: That’s why I’ll wear a wet suit, scuba mask, flippers, a rain slicker, a rain hat, rubber gloves, and carry an umbrella.

I see you’re taking it in small steps.

WW:  Exactly.

Well, I admire your courage and I wish you the best of luck in the new year.  Also I appreciate that you haven’t ordered winged monkeys to tear me apart.

WW: The day isn’t over.


What are you willing to let go of in the new year?




Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I noticed an elderly nose limping along with a suitcase.  I caught up with her and started a conversation.


Hey nose, where are you going?

NOSE: I’m outa here. I’m leaving Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road. I need to move on. I don’t know what else is out there for me, but I need to find it. If not now, when?  But…I’m scared.

Scared about what?

NOSE:  About not being blessed.


NOSE: Here’s the thing. I’ve always been around others who know me. They bless me every time I sneeze.  I’ve had so much emotional support in my life Every time I sneeze, someone says “Bless you!” And when I’m stuffed, I hear, “Bless you! Bless you! Bless you! Bless you!” Constantly! I’ve become dependent on it.

I can see how that could happen.

NOSE: But! You know when NO ONE blesses me?  When I’m in a place where I don’t know anybody!  Like, let’s say I’m on a random bus or train, or in an elevator. If I sneeze, no one blesses me because they don’t know me! Or…if I sneeze and people do say “bless you,” they mumble it awkwardly, like they’re not sure if they should have said it in the first place.  I know that’s gonna happen again and again and again if I’m not with others I know!  I won’t be blessed!

Maybe you should trust the silence. And trust your instincts even if you’re not feeling supported or blessed. 

NOSE: What makes you so sure about all this stuff?

Because I’m going through the same thing, but I’m one step ahead of you.  As I’m growing older, when I want to try something new, I’m finding I don’t care as much if other people don’t “bless” what I’m doing or approve of it. Maybe it’s just something that happens with age.

NOSE: You think so?

Maybe. I mean, these days, if someone doesn’t like something I’ve written, or painted, or what I’m wearing, I listen to what that person has to say. But then, I think to myself, “Maybe there’s no right or wrong answer here. Maybe we’re just two different people in two different ‘places’ in the universe at the moment. Our perspectives are different, but there’s room for both in the world.”

NOSE:  I see your point.

If I feel centered in what I’m doing, I’m not as afraid.

NOSE: You must be in therapy.

You know? Maybe you and I are blessed in a different way.

NOSE: How?

Maybe we’re blessed that we have the freedom, time and health to go out in the world and experience it differently.  It’s a privilege.  It’s a different kind of blessing.

NOSE: I can get into that.  Thanks for the suggestion.

You’re very welcome.

NOSE: Haaa-chooooo!

Should I say it?



How are you blessed?


Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I passed an abandoned house.  In the attic window, I noticed a tarnished Emmy Award.  Since the house was empty, I wandered upstairs and had a conversation with that poor, neglected award.


Emmy Award, what are you doing up here all alone?

EMMY AWARD:  I’m tarnished.

Yeah. I’m surprised you’re not made of real gold.

EMMY AWARD: That’s my million dollar secret.  And since I’ve been sitting here in the window for years, the sun has faded me to silver.

Wow. On a positive note, your upper arms look amazing! I mean, holding up that ball for years has given you great upper body strength.


Your arms are so sleek and toned.  Mine are so flabby I bet if I moved them up and down fast enough I’d fly away.

EMMY AWARD: That’s enough about my arms. Here’s the bottom line. There was a time when I stood for someone’s dream come true.  I stood for that happy time. It was amazing, but that ship has sailed.  I represented a dream, but I don’t think it’s possible for two dreams to come true in a lifetime.

I don’t agree. I think no matter how old we get, our creativity can carry us to new places if we let it.  More than one dream can come true.

EMMY AWARD: Not for me. I’m pretty much forgotten forever.  I’m not seeing myself standing for anything important anymore.

 Actually, I have an idea. I write a blog. Other bloggers read it, make comments, or let me know they “liked” a post. At this time of year, I’d love to let them know how much I appreciate them. They add so much to my life.  I’m most grateful.

EMMY AWARD: So what does that have to do with me?

Everyone who reads my blog is most deserving of an award.  So I’d like you to become the official Blogger Emmy Award.  I’ll call you the “Blemmy.”

EMMY AWARD: The Blemmy.  I like that.  Has a nice rhythm to it.  I’m in.

Great!  Okay…so……dearest Blogger friends who are followers, commenters, or who have tapped the “like” button on “Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road,” I am presenting this Blemmy Award to YOU.   IF YOU ARE READING THIS POST, YOU ARE A BLEMMY WINNER. Your category?  Best Blogger in a Supporting Role. Thank you thank you thank you for supporting my creativity.

And! Since you’re on the Red Carpet, if you’re up for writing your acceptance speech, I’d LOVE to see it in the Comment Box!

Your acceptance speech can include thanks to other bloggers who have helped you become the blogger you are today (please include their links). LOL.

Happy Holidays to you all, and may all your dreams and wishes come true. 



Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I took a walk down a horse trail.  Suddenly, an elderly horse leaped out of the bushes and blocked my path.  On his back, he carried The Headless Horseman! From The Legend of Sleepy Hollow!  Since the Horseman had no head, he couldn’t speak or hear. When I cried out in fear he just shrugged. So, I shouted at the horse…

headless horse


HORSE:  Relax. We’re harmless. When I saw a human walking down the path, I galloped over.


HORSE:  Well, for starters, I’ve been carrying this man on my back for centuries–

Right.  Is the Horseman still searching for his head?

HORSE: Yes! Every night after midnight we ride around and around and around the graveyard looking for it. But I’m getting too old to do this every night for hours and hours and hours.  My hooves are worn and I can’t see as well as I used to. I don’t know where the heck I’m going half the time.

Is the Horseman aging, too?

HORSE: Uh huh.  He has back pain from sitting on me year after year.

I imagine he does.

HORSE: But he’s incapable of admitting it. The problem is, the Horseman has no head so he’s totally led by his emotions.  He only follows his heart. He’s blindly driven to find his head.  But he’s not the only one in this relationship. I’m here too, and I say it’s time to slow down before we both get hurt.

I understand your situation so well.  I’m in a longtime relationship, too. A marriage.  I’ve slowed down a bit because I’m beginning to see the world differently. My husband does too, but not as much as I do. He keeps working very long hours and doesn’t know how to stop himself.   It’s hard to slow down as a couple.  I guess we all don’t slow down at the same time, but we have to find a way to make it work somehow.

HORSE: At least you and your husband both have heads. You can talk about it. What am I supposed to do?

It will be hard at first, but maybe you’ll have to be the assertive one. Maybe the next time the Horseman steers you toward the graveyard for the hundredth time, steer him back toward the barn.  Put your foot down!  Or, in your case, put all four feet down.

HORSE: But the Horseman is pure emotions!  He’ll get angry!  And he’ll feel so sad because he’ll have to accept he might never find his head. His heart will be broken.

This is a definite turning point–

Oh! The Horseman desperately needs a head to advise him when his feelings overtake him!

Actually, the way I see it is, the Horseman will be okay because he already has a head.  It has been there for a long time and will continue to be there for years to come.

HORSE: Whose head is that?


copyrightoverthehillontheyellowbrickroad 2017


Dearest Blogger Friends, In the meantime, if you happen to see a random head floating around, please let me know and I’ll pass the info on to the Horseman and his horse.  Thanks!




CONVERSATION WITH…The Wind…What Keeps It Blowing Through Time

I was at the tallest peak Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road. Suddenly, something pushed me down. It was the wind!


Thanks a lot, wind.

WIND:  Oops. Sorry. Didn’t see you there.

That’s okay. It’s just that you came out of nowhere.

WIND: Always have. Always do. Always will.  That’s how I roll.


WIND: Hey, you don’t look familiar. You’re not from around here, are you?

No. I’m visiting– trying to figure out where I belong in the world as I grow older.  I’m looking for my spark.

WIND:  Well, don’t sweat it too much. I’ve been around forever and I just keep going and going and going and going.

How?  Is there a thought or idea that propels you along eternally?

WIND: I just keep doing what I do.  Like, when I see leaves on a tree, I rush over and do a dance with them. It’s always new.  Every dance is different.

That’s so great.

WIND: Flags do a pretty funky furl, too.


WIND: And when I see chimes hanging on a porch?  I rush over and blow them into a song that’s being heard for the first time.  No two songs are ever the same.  I love that.

Me too–

WIND: And when you see a cloud in the sky?  Maybe it looks like a fairy or a unicorn or an elephant’s butt?

Yeah?  You blow all those clouds into those shapes?

WIND: I do.

You’re an amazing sculptor.

WIND: Thank you very much. Even when I blow over a glass of milk or a whole bunch of trees….the look I leave behind is unique every time.

This is so interesting. So I guess maybe you’re saying, as long as we’re here, our creativity will be with us and can carry us through?

WIND: That’s how I see it. And now, if you’ll excuse me… I gotta go.

Where are you going?

WIND: I don’t know.  But I’m on my way.


CONVERSATION WITH…An Aging Ambulance…About What’s Exciting  vs. What’s Frenetic

Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I passed an aging ambulance in front of a deli.  It was lunchtime, so the driver was inside getting a hot pastrami sandwich.  I started a conversation with the ambulance.


You know, I’ve always wanted to talk to an ambulance. This is an honor.

AGING AMBULANCE: Thank you. But…why?

Well…I have a dream I don’t share with many people.  I’ve always wished I could have an ambulance of my very own.

AGING AMBULANCE: You’re kidding.

Nope.  I started dreaming about it when my children were in elementary school and had playdates in my house.  I worried what would happen if someone got hurt.  It would have been so calming if I knew an ambulance was parked in my driveway at all times.


And now that my kids are young adults and my husband and I are older, having our own ambulance would totally calm our nerves.


I mean, for example, last week my husband had bad stomach cramps and chest pains late at night.  It turned out to be a stomach virus. But since he’s a bit older, when he was in pain, we were concerned it might have been something more serious.  Having an ambulance in our driveway would have been a dream come true.


Plus I’m a hypochondriac.

AGING AMBULANCE: Well then, I’ll let you in on something that embarrasses me. As I get older, my exciting, dramatic life as an ambulance doesn’t feel exciting anymore.  It feels frenetic. The sound of my siren is just overwhelming noise and gives me a headache.

I can relate.  It’s embarrassing to admit, but large cities feel that way to me these days.  I used to find all the sounds and crowds of people stimulating.  Now I’d rather be in a quiet place.  I’m changing.

AGING AMBULANCE: Me too. When I have to speed down a highway to get to a fire, I just want to go home.  Or when I have to weave through traffic to get to an emergency, it’s not exhilarating anymore.  I’m changing.

I understand.

AGING AMBULANCE: But…I still want to be helpful.  Somehow. Somewhere.

Well then, dare I ask? Would you consider a permanent job sitting at the end of my driveway?

AGING AMBULANCE: What would your neighbors say?

Nothing. They know me.

AGING AMBULANCE: Okay then!  I’m in!

This is wonderful! I guess you just never know when a dream will come true.


CONVERSATION WITH…A Gallery of Art by Bloggers

Today I arrived at the “Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road Art Gallery.”  It gave me an idea…

Hey Gallery, is there a manager I can speak to?

ART GALLERY:  I’m the manager.  As long as my walls don’t crumble and my plumbing works, I’ll keep running this place no matter how old I get.

Yeah—you must be really proud of all that you hold on your walls.

ART GALLERY:  It means the world to me.  I carry thoughts, dreams, visions, statements.  I carry the hearts of so many gifted people.

Totally. In that case, would you mind if I set up an exhibit here?  There are five bloggers who have invited me to guest post or have shared my blog on theirs.  Their art, photos and writing is so beautiful.  As a way to say a heartfelt thank you and let the world know about their work, can I set up an exhibit of links to some of their best creations?

ART GALLERY:  Absolutely.   I’ll keep it here forever.

Okay bloggers reading this post!  Click on each link, and you’ll definitely smile:

1.Linda has invited me to post as a “Guest in Jest” on her site on February 2. Her blog is about “crazy stuff that happens and things that amuse me.” I’m in love with Linda’s skunk photos. Click and scroll up to them here:

2. Da Al invited me to share my post about a kitten I found Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road.  She posts on arts/cooking/dancing/joy/writing/tales and tails.  I have a special place in my heart for a piece she calls “silk hand and eye.” Click and scroll down to it here:

3.Raili was inspired by one of my posts and shared it on her blog. She’s always “creating magic with words” through poetry, stories, and thoughts about health and well-being. I can’t stop staring at her purple tree photos:

4.Elaine did a very kind shout-out to my blog. Elaine paints and writes while “living and following the light.” I especially love her fantasy work. Here’s her display of amazing paintings.

5.Barbara shares every single one of my posts on Facebook. She does incredible paintings and photographs.  The expression in the eyes of every animal she paints blows me away:

That’s all for now!  Hope you enjoyed the art show!