February Eighteenth Twenty Thirteen

Updated Wednesday, February 18, 2015
It has been a year two years  and as most who have lost a loved one, particularly a parent experiences, it feels like today. Like no time has elapsed. Pain. Sharp. Deep. And seemingly, never-ending. It will lessen, I've been told. Not today. Likely, not for a while, yet. Still. 

Per her wishes there wasn't a service but I did write something to honor her and sent it along to family and friends so that they may have . . .something.

Mom's Corner

Every Time I Feel The Spirit*

At 7:14 p.m. on February 18th, my mother breathed her final breath and with that achieved her desire to go home. The last few years presented a multitude of challenges. She prayed for the strength to go on and as the challenges continued to mount, she turned her prayers to those of resolve to move on . . . 

Where He Leads Me* 

Mom spent her time in our world in caring compassion to those around her. She tended her relationships with cards, letters, and other tokens of stewardship. She did what she could to improve the human condition and to beautify her corner of the world, giving as much of herself as possible. 

Pass It On*

Mom's commitment and ministry to community was very strong. Even in the face of her own challenges she gave her time and energies to a variety of outreach programs that aided the homeless, hungry, and disenfranchised, particularly ex-offenders, women, and children. 

Here I Am Lord* 

Even her final act was about giving, having donated her body to science and research. A lifetime of caring, compassion, loving, and giving cannot be summed up in a few hundred words. Nor can such a life and life experience go by totally without notice or report. 

Mom loved to laugh. In going through her possession I located a card sent by a friend that contained the following quote: "laugh as often as possible. you must, because the world will offer you every reason to weep. So as often as possible you laugh! That, I think is part of the GREAT LOVE!" ~Maya Angelou 

Mom's faith was important to her. Each of the starred stanza headings are some of her favorite hymns. John 3:16 was her favorite scripture. For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

My mother lives on in all our hearts and minds.

You who know me, know I am not a believer but my mother and ALL other relatives and friends are / were of the faithful community. As noted in the beginning this was for them. I drew comfort putting it together as finding her wishes offered a bit more insight into the woman my mother was, strived to be. 

"I will always love my mama, she's my favorite girl, she brought me in this world .  " 

Welcome to Wednesday:* MONDAY MeMe (2) Edition

This was the meme that started it all so perhaps,  meme (1) would be more appropriate, but since I'm answering and posting it second, well, number 2 it is. 

1. When was the last time you cut your hair? Because I keep my hair short I cut it pretty often.              This example is longer than I usually keep it. 
      Did you like the haircut? I liked the idea of it right from the start (when I first started                        cutting it very short, several years ago). I've had to grow into the style and learning HOW       to cut it myself in a way that is agreeable. 

2. Grapes with seeds or seedless? So long as they aren't green, I'm good. Green grapes suck. 

3. When was the last time you went to a fancy party? Probably 5 or so years ago. A golden                               anniversary part for an uncle and is wife. 
     What did you wear? My finest slacks and a shimmery shirt. 

4. What colour is your bedroom wall? In my mind, lavender. In reality, white. 

5. The worst smell in the world is… Chitterlings. Or rather, Chit'lins. 

6. Last thing you spat out.  Some chicken trying to slide down the wrong pipe. ::cough:: 

7. Do you sing when no one is around?  YES What do you usually sing? Often, something from the               "Wizard of Oz"  Lately, "Shake it Off". 

8. Your least favourite name (and it’s okay if it’s Melissa; I can take it).  Olga. And, Clementine. 

9. Did you like the food served at the last dinner party you went to? I did. The dinner was in honor of an aunt's birthday and held at a Brazilian steak house. Mouth-watering good. 

10. What is your most prized possession? Photos of and notes and cards from my mother. 

Would you kill a unicorn in order to save your most prized possession? I'd be so stunned to be face-to-face with a unicorn I don't know that I'd have the presence of mind to do anything but stare. Likely, I'd think I'd died and well, the possessions . . . rather insignificant, at that point. 

#Microblog Monday

*2/18 will be a difficult day. I'm trying to busy myself but it isn't working. 

Dosey-does

Love is a two way street. 

#SixWordSaturday 

Welcome to Wednesday: MeMe Edition

And so, my friend developed these questions and so, I'm answering: 

1. What topic is so interesting to you that you could talk about it for days? 

I'm sure I could talk about my  son and daughter for days. But, those two aside . . . pipe cleaners; home crafting golden product.  Okay, I'm kidding.  Popsicle sticks! I kid you not. 

2. Dream home: cottage at the beach, river house in the woods, lake house, penthouse in a city, farm house, castle in Europe, family home in a burb? Something else?

This one is tough and after much thought, lake house.  

3. What talent would you like to have that you don’t have already?

Piano. Hands down. playing, not building, just to be clear. 

4. If you could make one food that’s not good for you, good for you, what would you choose?

TIRAMISU 

5. The one piece of advice you would give to everyone and wish they’d follow.

Sock and a sock, shoe and a shoe. Not, sock / shoe, sock / shoe.  Oh, and kindness wins. 

6. What period of history would you want to visit as a tourist?   Edwardian.  

7. Do you have a hobby?    Slow dancing, swaying to the music.  (Arts.) 

8. If an animal could talk, which animal would you want to talk to? Buttah. I'm aching to know what kind of home he lived in before he was ours. How it was he wound up on the street, not the safest even for a cat with all four paws clawed. 

9. If you could be friends with a fictional character, who would you choose? Kay Scarpetta's niece, Lucy Farinelli. 

10. Introvert or extrovert?  All together now, i-n-t-r-o-v-e-r-t. 

Another blogger created another list of questions and I've decided to answer those as well. Next Wednesday.  Have a wonderful rest of the week. 

Him

The Look of Love 

Dapper Man and Machine 

The Look of Love II

The actor opened 2015 with his foot solidly in the door of stage acting. He has booked three shows (two of the three are Shakespeare plays) with the rehearsals for the first beginning soon. He's auditioned for a number of on-screen performances hoping to add more of that type of work to his résumé.  He's decided that directing is not for him, at least not now. He is passionate about performing , being a teaching artist and of late, music. More on the music later, but for now, happy birthday to my funny, serious, passionate young man. May your realities and dreams collide in several grand explosions of good, better, best.

Which? Why?

Which life button, pause or rewind?




#Six Word Saturday 

Super. Bowl. Snow.

#Microblog Monday 

All this and the Patriots won. Better days coming round.                                       Yes? Yes.

Sing, Sing A Song

"If I only had a brain."

*click for link*

#Six Word Saturday 

Looking Back

#Microblog Monday

If you'll recall, his time tlast year I was struggling to get through the Mandala prompts. And as recent posts relay, I'm still working to complete the 31 prompts. Number 24 (Desire here I come.) I was also frustrated over the sounds of silence from a particular person. Later in the year I lamented over the loss of a friend.. The friend and a particular person, same.

Silence, still.

Going back to January two years ago, my dad had died the previous September, it was cold and well, There is much going around these parts, most of which I have yet to truly wrap around my head and wear it brightly. I'm worried about a some friends. I'm distressed over job, work issues. I'm fearful for my mom. I am harried, heckled, haunted, and hounded much.

I ended post on a positive tip, trying to walk toward the very faint flow at the end of the tunnel.

Well, that light was doused when my mother died within a month of that post.

And now, looking back over 2013 and 2014 combined there were certainly more low points than high Despite my determination to find that silver lining around every single dark cloud; I tried to keep my spirits high, the creativity flowing, and life moving forward.

More than anything I tried mighty hard not to wallow.

Some days I wallowed. Some days I wallow, still. .

Yet, I look back to look forward; to finish what I start, to create opportunities to c-r-e-a-t-e to embrace my memories, to be present and to rev the engine as needed.

Girls Love Mail

#MicoBlog Mondays

Much of my time (especially) in recent weeks has been spent on letters, reading letters, writing letters, thinking about writing even more letters. I love writing letters, I love getting letters--but will write them with or without prospect of a reply.

Thus, my involvement with letter writing campaigns. Combine letter writing with a cause close to my heart, opportunities to up-lift and / or enlighten and I am all in

Like writing letters? Think about joining Girls Love Mail.  It is great fun and a fantastic cause.

Happy Monday!! 

I've Got Letters on My Mind

Think, then and now. Just think. 

Six Word Saturday

Micro Monday*

Last January I was given a gift. And here I am this January submitting the twenty-third of 31 (well, 32--there was a bonus)prompts. I was well beyond January 2014 when I thought I was ready to tackle prompt number twenty-three. I was wrong many times over. 

And while it was (IS) acceptable to skip over, to move on, I couldn't. And even as I have not completed the assignment I still feel stuck or maybe conflicted. 

Trust, that which has been placed in others, has proven quite the jagged journey leaving me ragged rather than rugged--some days. 

*MicroBlog Monday 

Saturday, Here In the Park

l

Six Word Saturday 

Let's not talk about the weather. 

And So It Has Begun

MicroBlog Monday 

Nothing says "Happy New Year" like cuddling up with your long haired orange tabby and having said tabby sneeze in your face. Wiping cat snot off one's glasses at 4 in the morning is the pinnacle of woo-hoo, let me tell ya.  

Or, in other words, business (and beginnings of days) as usual. Buttah, the catdog, is ramping up his campaign to be top pet. That, and the colder weather drives him (and his elusive brother, Pete) in my room more often these days, causing the pooch's anxiety level to rise. 

The day proceeded apace with the usual things happening at pretty much the usual time for Friday was a workday; the shift filled with explaining to various patients why they owe what they owe, what their insurance didn't cover and in some cases, why. And, talking with insurance companies to follow-up on non-payments, providing the necessary information so they claims may be reconsidered. And reconciling accounts, applying credits to debits and sending out statements. 

And then, it was time to come home where the pooch, long-haired orange tabby and is ever elusive brother wait to be tended. 

Playing behind the scenes of the business as usual days are the other things; books to read, things to do, stuff to get, music (ear worms, like the themes to TV shows, I'll spare you which) 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th quarter goals and / or projects and words, and images. Words and images. Words and images, popping in and out of my mind. 

And speaking of words, inspired by my friend, I present to you my word of the year: c-r-e-a-t-e, manifested artistically and otherwise. The otherwise will likely revolve around the pooch, the long haired orange tabby, catdog and his ever elusive brother, Pete. 

Bienvenida a Miércoles

click on image for link 

Just a couple of thoughts on this, the last day of twenty-fourteen: 

 Did you know that the Morton Salt Company's tag line for a long while was, "when it rains it pours"?  No one was injured by the wall of salt or the collapsing wall.

Daughter was telling me a story a while back and during the telling of the story she used the term, "funeral park" which was used in place of cemetery, which she couldn't remember the name of the place where the dead are buried at the time. And since then, well, funeral park is now our term for cemetery.

Son said just this morning that he wants to act, sing, dance, and play music like Nina Simone-with a reckless, yet purposeful abandon. He is learning to play the harmonica and acoustic guitar. Just this past Sunday he got on stage at his favorite club during the weekly jam session. He is turning into a Mississippi Delta blues man before our very eyes. So fun.  

I don't really want to look back on twenty-fourteen except as to recall the ideas for work, learning, and . . . growth and how best to expand upon those ideas. Moreover, finding a way to stay the course, so to speak, in terms of not only getting projects off the ground but executing to fruition. 

On that note, the Mandala Discovery journey begins again tomorrow. I didn't sign up for another go 'round as I didn't finish the first. But, finish the first (as well as possibly repeating some of the prompts) will happen within the first quarter of twenty-fifteen. 

The second anniversary of my mother's death is looming and even as I type that, the emotion wells. The tears flow, not quite as often, but  . . still. At the end of "Cooley High" one of our (me and mom's) favorite movies there is a funeral scene and the song, "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday" is featured. I was finally able to load the dvd into the player, but cannot watch it to the very end. 

While not particularly driven by gadgetry, I wish I had a device that would record my thoughts without benefit of me having to speak (or write). For, many ideas come on the fly (so to speak)  and more often than not, an inconvenient time and place. Try recalling any of those thoughts, ideas, epiphanies later. 

I have to cut this off here as I must get out the door within the next 8 minutes to have any hope of getting to work on time. But, lastly and not at all least, this: The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing is on the January 2015 calendar page. And on that note,  feliz año nuevo 

A Simple Thing

"We are living art, created to hang on, stand up, forbear,

continue, and encourage others." 

~Maya Angelou

Two and a Half

MicroBlogMonday

As I remain challenged to stitch together much in the way of coherence please indulge a thimble full of random thoughts:  

1. The work (of more import, commute) week is shortened by two and a half days.To that I scream a resounding YaY!!  Well, the commutes will still be three full days as I must return even after the half day of work. But, still . . yay.

2. You shall be pleased to read that after much hand wringing and hair pulling, I have finally decided my contribution to the eve breakfast potluck: deviled eggs.

3. A joyous noise moment: the company holiday party won't happen until the ninth of January. It shall be a casual, family affair. In a bowling alley. To that I scream a resounding YaY!!!

4. The pooch (don't worry, she has since had her face done, eyes no longer hiding behind all that fur) and the catdog, Buttah continue to  navigate a, "I'm the favorite" course.  Neither need not worry. Plenty of love for them both (as well as for the more aloof, Pete.)

5. A condolence card arrived the other day which confounded
and astounded in equal measure. Quite moved by the outpouring of kindness expressed therein.

6. Birds are a common theme in greeting cards. Birds are a common holiday theme. My comfort threshold with birds is low. Not so low that I'm overly quacked out by images alone. But should I come face to face with a gaggle of geese, a covey of partridges,  a murder of crows, and so on . . way quacked out. Still, I shall be looking for every and all opportunities to shrink the bird themed greeting card collection currently in my possession.    

Mon., Tues., We . .

given the givens not a bad week, but certainly 

room for improvement. 

Like Pulling Teeth

 The title, until about five minutes ago (it is 11:52 pm) was going to be . . "I've got idioms on my mind"  (you know, like sung to, "You Are Always On My Mind") which is in reference to the fact that I was going to write and post this entry last night might one thing and then another thing and then . . well, I went to bed thinking and feeling like the entire week (and it was only Wednesday) was like . . yeah, the title.

But when I got up this morning the title was gone. Vanished. Out of my mind. All day I was trying to remember and all day nothing. Na da. Zilch. Finally, I just said the hell with it, forget the plan, do something about idioms (in general) and move the frack on. Hence, :the new title idea.

After an evening of quality time with Cinnamon and Buttah (Pete requires no such interaction save the sneers exchanged when kibble is dropped in his bowl) heating and eating dinner, cleaning the kitchen, beginning and finishing two holiday greetings (with "love lists" enclosed to be posted Friday I sat down to dash off the, "I've got idioms on my mind" post still hoping to get to bed by eleven. Until someone woke from their mid-evening slumber eager to share a rousing, amusing, and winding tale of a dry cleaner's passion, fake Valentino suits, sweat stains and more . .  

It was in the midst of that story where the original idiom (like pulling teeth) that prompted the idea or the post I was going to write last night, that was lost during the course of the day, reappeared. Waving hello, howyadoin? like nothing ever happened.

And now, still, not saying what was on my mind to say last night (or rather, Wednesday night, for it is now very early Friday morning) it shall have to keep for another time. For time, is no longer on my side. Five AM will roll around much too soon and . . . damn, now Cinnamon is pacing. Must get dressed so she can poop. She only paces when she needs to poop. Or after vomiting. Since she hasn't vomited, out we go.

Happy Friday getting here was like pulling teeth.

Something Old, Something New

The idea of getting up at the ass crack of dawn the day after Thanksgiving to brave crowds, mania, and in most cases, horrible weather to score a killer deal on __________ whatever is as attractive as sticking hot pokers in my eyes.

Now, I like sales and bargains as much as the next penny watching consumer. But, there are limits. And that which embodies the so called Black Friday is at the top of the limit list.

My Fridays after Thanksgiving have historically found me eating leftovers, watching holiday movies, getting a jump on weekend chores, playing board games, reading, writing, in short, chilling the frack out. The plan was for this one to be more of the same. Even more so since I'm fighting off the emotional tides of grief.

Then came an event called The "New" Black Friday. I discovered the event through my good friend Maxine and it sounded tailor made; something I could do from home, creating lists, sharing with a community of folks IF you wanted.

Hello. Yes.

So, in addition to some usual household tasks, watching movies, and laughing with my son and daughter I spent some of Friday (and beyond, to be honest) creating love lists, gathering materials, and beginning the constructing of same.

Great fun. A project that will occupy some of my down time over the next couple of weeks. Not, that I needed a new project, mind you--but this is well worth sliding others to the back burner temporarily.

Welcome to December 1st*

*micro blogging Monday            

T = together. time. . . .

Daughter has Mexicana radio flowing, soup simmering, grill fired up, sous chef Cinnamon at the ready. Son has stories. It is fun to be on the sidelines, watching, listening, learning, laughing. May your day be spicy or sweet, whatever your heart and soul desires. Happy Thanksgiving.

Monday. Monday.

MicroBlogMonday !! 

That. Is. All.  Five AMcomes much too quickly. 

for now. 

Well, it is Wednesday

And welcome to it. Before turning in last night the news was all about how we (the region) have suffered record (for this point in November) low temperatures and now the S word and how it would affect the morning commute.

Well, the pooch and I were outside about forty minutes ago and low and behold, no snow. On one hand I feel great because who wants to trudge to work in the snow, get all wet and have to pack extra socks and some indoor shoes for sitting for subsequent eight hours?

Not his girl. Not this morning anyway. So, thank you weather forecasters for being wrong and weather pattern for changing course or whatever happened. However, on the other hand, I was kind of looking forward to the snow because, well, trudging. Extra effort to walk meant using extra energy which meant calorie burning.

It is coming. Just not today. (Or not this morning).

Welcoming this Wednesday morning is a scale date. I decided on November 5th when I got on the scale at it read a few ticks beyond 260 and I would 1. weigh myself every other Wednesday 2. Work to have the needle move in the  away from the 260 mark (in the lower register, just to be clear) and 3. To try to sustain the efforts for longer than a month, longer than 2, longer even than 3.

Oddly enough, the image I found this morning for this post is exactly depicts what my scale read this morning.

One day at a time, in two week blocks. Welcome to Wednesday. Welcome snow, whenever you arrive.    

       

Cold As Ice

#microblogmonday

One day last week, once I am not-too-comfortably seated on the first of two buses for the commute home, I open messages left throughout the day. (Work rules dictate that I cannot have my mobile device on my person while at my workstation). There, out of the dark, lay a voicemail from my father's second wife.

Chilled.

My father died Septenber 6, 2012. Five days after his 74th birthday. I didn't know it then, but my mother would die just barely 5 months later.

My insides have been as chilled as our outsides (temperatures plummeting from 60s to 30s in a twenty four hour cycle and staying there). My father's second wife (okay,  okay . . my step-mother's) message did not warrant a call back, in fact, she didn't leave a call back number--so I didn't call her back. She called my brothers as well and they in turn (of course) eventually called me. A family issue and decisions. I know if she had had a choice, we (my brothers and me) would have been out of the loop.

To the bones.

Tears have been a large part of the last several days. Tears steeped in annoyance and more. The annoyance for the folks this call put in my world, put in play.Their ignorance of me (us) their incompetence and their intrusion. The more; grief, memories, lonliness for my mom's presence.

 The upcoming week will mean more of the same for nothing is settled (yet). The issue at hand stands to haunt for many days beyond as one brother is out of sync with the other (and me). I trust this will hamper our becoming closer--for there has been little movement in that regard since our post mom's death discussion.

So, so cold.

The outside as well as on the inside for which no amount of layering will remedy.

waist not. want not. again.

microblogging monday

I'm heavy. Again. Not as heavy as I've ever been but heavier than I want to be. Heavier than I should be. Heavier than is prudent to be.

Again.

As much as I don't want to bethis heavy try as I might, I am having a devil of a time pulling together a string of successes; caloric intake, consistent and meaningful movement.

Hence, heavy remains. And in recent weeks, inching ever so toward -ier.

As I've been where I am before I know what to do. I am just, as I said, struggling with sticking to a routine and making the routine stick.

'Tis critical, this heavier thing. My blood pressure is higher  My knees are achier. My clothes are tighter.

Massive

Critical.

Five years ago I had the Shrinking Piggies to help me work through my weightiness. This time around, to be brutally honest, I hold little confidence that participation in that group, fantastic as those folks were, would yield much in the way of positive results.

But, something must be done.

Now. Consistently. For heavier, this much heavier is not the place to be. Ever. Again.



 

Five for Five*

Tomorrow is election day. We have a couple of pretty hotly contested races. The ads have been furious and the rhetoric fierce. Thankfully, early voting opened up a bit over a week ago and I was able to get my voiting in several days ago.

If a mailing I received a few days ago is to be believed, this election will make the the fifth straight in which I've voted. Again, if the mailing is to be believed, the habit of voting is typical behavior for my neighborhood.

micro blogging monday

The purpose of this mailing, beyond touting my voting habits and comparing same with that of my neighbors, extolling our excellent active participation in the process, was to remind me (and the other recipients of this particular mailing) that November 4th is Election Day!   Go. Vote

I don't know (yet) out of whose pocket the dimes for this mass mailing came. I do consider the spending of these dimes an egregious waste--reminding folks who have voted in four of the last four elections--that election day is near. I am willing to bet that most (like me) had already cast their ballot prior to receipt of the postcard.

Then again, perhaps the mailing was so massive that it included folks with less than four stars on their election activity record, though I can't imagine the wording of such a missive. Still, do these folks care that Tuesday is Election Day?
I'm
Perhaps some do. I'm holding out hope that most do care and that most (who haven't already) will indeeded
vote on Tuesday, November 4, 2014.

Polls open at 6 AM.

*of course I've voted consistently since becoming of age.

.  

They Work

A favored route to work features, among many business, a locksmith. The front of the building is painted very brightly, with a patriotic theme--good ol red, white, and blue--touting the name of the business, phone number, other services offered, and their mantra: 

We Make Keys That Work! 



In multiple locations  across the front of the building; large and small, with red lettering and then, with the blue. Over and over, again and again: 

We Make Keys That Work!     

My first thought was if there were locksmiths who were of the habit of making keys that didn't work. Oh sure, now and again a key might not work. But, they can't possibly stay in business very long if that kind of ethic is habit rather than  happenstance. 

We Make Keys That Work! 

My second thought was if it--the proclamation--is working. Or, has worked.  How many folks have chosen them over other locksmiths? And if the choice made because of the slogan. Or rather, mantra.   I don't know, I tend to be a bit dubious of entities screaming from the rooftops about whatever it is they do--or want me to believe. I wonder, who are they trying to convince, me or themselves?

The business is located much too far away from my homebase for me to consider trying their services. I suppose, given that they are, in fact, still in business (over 30 years!) they must be doing something right.  And that something may very well be, making keys that work!       

Over One Hundred

My first blog post is dated March 29, 2006. In 2006 there were one hundred and forty others for a total of 141. Each year through 2010 yielded over one hundred posts with 2008 being the most prolific with one hundred and seventy. 

There were over fifty posts in 2011 but since then, less than. 

With the inaugural post (as you may choose to read) I mused a bit about where this thing is going to go. At  the time I had two adult (children) at home. I still do, except the son is back rather than never left. In addition, two cats and two dogs (though not at the same time, RIP Diva Dog )  have been added. 

There have been other life events along the way; sexual orientation declaration, graduations, career changes, relationship statuses, and the like. The biggest life event over the last eight years; the death of my dad and then, my mom. 

Over one hundred. 

Now, with over 850 published (and a couple of drafts) as much as then, I still don't know where this thing is going--but going ON it shall/ I have mentioned this before. I don't know that I've ever stated here in my own space, why I blog:  Simply put, I must. Now, more than ever before.  

Despite all the talk of numbers, over one hundred, it isn't about the quantity--though I beat myself up something fierce when I go for more than a week without one. With all there is on my mind to say, I can't (consistently) bring myself to write.

Weird, that.  . 

Anyhoo...consistency. discipline. re-discovery. re-awakening. pro activity over reactivity.  

Telling the tale, real or imagined. 

Peace. .  

The Power of Two

My daughter celebrated another birthday on Saturday. In spite of our very tough year (with tough times still looming ahead) we had a grand time hanging out. She prepared a simpe and very tasty dinner. And thanks to a gift card she finally got to use 2 years later, dessert was divine.  

In addition to being my daughter's birthday iting was also National Coming Out Day. I can say without reservation that my daughter is and has always been my biggest supporter, my grandest cheerleader. The year Neta came to town my daughter donned her 'I Love Lesbos' tee shirt and joined Neta and me at Chicago's pride parade, where she got lost in a sea of gays. She  kept her sense of adventure and sense of humor throughout. 

I love her, without question. I also like her a great deal. She is a joy as a daughter and a great find as a friend. I re-dedicate this piece to my daughter, my friend, my number one fan. And to all the other supporters over these last few years, ♥ ♥ ♥  I wouldn't be here without you all !!! 

#Microblog Monday.

Friend. Missing.

go here 

I have a friend. At least, I think I still do. We met some years ago
and had what felt like, an instant connection. That connection grew deeper with our daily interactions and seemed to continue even when our daily contact came to and end.

Until it didn't.

I don't know what drives her moves to silence. My imagination roams deep with possible explanations. The end result however, is the same, her silence brings about confusion, an intense concern for her well-being and extreme sadness over the lost.

I am at a loss to understand. To reconcile.  

I miss her. 

Sinking. Sunken. Thinking. Not.

What? click on image. 

Cause all of me loves all of you

Love all your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose I'm winning

Cause I give you all of me and you give me all of you.*

I'm about three days and four hours from pulling my profile from the one meeting / dating site I have been on for the past several years now. Am I over the prospect of meeting someone to shower with affection and be showered in return? No, not at all. I just have so much on my mind and my plate that there is no room and frankly little appetite for romance. It is all I can do to govern the day-to-day.   

Still, the languages of love are bookmarked, catalogued for use  . . . whenever.      

*Chorus to John Legend's All of Me 

Poetry. Girl.

click image for info on Microblog Mondays 

i like it when we talk
the way you smile
the way you walk
like you got places to go
i watched you in far away places
seen you amongst different faces
and now you're laughing at my jokes




the first stanza of  fresh by Kim Ransom

Drift Away

"I want to get lost in your rock and roll and drift away." 

Transformation

>

Transformation: Not easy. In some cases not planned and thus, not welcomed. Constant challenge to embrace change, absorb the fall-out and transform into the newest "model" of me.  Understand, I'm not looking for a new me, not re-invention. I am struggling that has happened and with moving onward with what IS tthe current reality. 

Welcome to Friday. 

Next Mandala lesson: Trust

Monday, Monday

Remember Mandalas?  Well, I was part of the Janaury class. I am on lesson number 22 (of 30 and one bonus) TRANSFORMATION I will share that lesson image and those that follow in this space. For yes,  I intend to finish. Perhaps not during the month of September along with the September class, but certainly during the current calendar year.

Want to know what Microblog Mondays is all about? Click the image.

Ta ta for now. :-)

Eight Hundred and Fifty

posting the pic to get a post up 

for, too many days have gone 

without one. 

the next shall follow 

soon(er) 

rather 

than

too much later. 

Happy September!! 

welcome to wednesday

Re Invent?

bklynboihood.tumblr.com

You know the problem with purging? You inevitably bump against things that spark memories; good and bad. Things that ignite debate; again, good and bad. Things that bring about a paralyzing numbness.  This, is most often bad for numbness certainly serves to impact that, "putting one foot in front of the other" method to tamping out . . shit.  

As difficult and troubling it has been both physically and emotionally, to begin was necessary and to continue, even more so. 

Thus, the project lives. 

Permission has been granted to move methodically. Or haphazardly. A quick dump. Or a more deliberate study and sort. There is no deadline. The freedom created by the structure-less structure eases the anxiety (a bit) and cures the nausea (some). 

Re-invent? At this juncture it is more about re-discovery. Or . . . recovery. 

One step: it is okay to be able to see the floor of the closet.