Celebrate Good Times, Come On*

 The beginnings of a birthday feast. 

My daughter's gifted me with her talents, her company, wrapped around a baseball game. 

(NYYanks over the ChiSox) and fireworks. 

It was a fun day, a fun and restorative weekend. 

Officially Fifty-Five and feeling pretty good. 

*thank you Kool&TheGang

#MicroBlog Monday  click the link for more MicroBlogs. :-) 

Wealth

My insurance producer license expires in four days. Renewing the license would have meant spending $180.00 plus the cost of a continuing education class (24 hours of course study, 3 of which must be in the classroom ethics). I would have had to be CE compliant up to 10 days prior to the license expiration date. 

I remember being laid off from my job two years ago and making the decision to go into insurance sales. I remember beginning the process; of taking the classes, and studying for the 4 hour exam. I remember being so very proud at having passed and earned the license needed to continue on the chosen path. 

Today I work for a medical billing company. And while the insurance knowledge is not a direct linkage it has helped over going in cold. And now I am getting the opportunity to study and train for the ICD-10 conversion; to become a certified medical biller. After having completed four modules I can state without equivocation, this is going to be a grand challenge. 

But, I'm looking forward to the education for not only will it help secure my present (and future) it will enrich me, I am sure.  All learning does. Onward. 


“Anything that you learn becomes your wealth, a wealth that cannot be taken away from you; whether you learn it in a building called school or in the school of life. To learn something new is a timeless pleasure and a valuable treasure. And not all things that you learn are taught to you, but many things that you learn you realize you have taught yourself.” 
― C. JoyBell C. - Writer

#MicroBlog Monday

Bottled Frustration™

Time is not on my side.

#SixWordSaturday click to see other six word offerings. 

For Some, It Is That Time

My daughter with drink in hand. 

Summertime and the living is easy.*

*for some folks, don't you know.

*for some of the time, for sure?

*credit DuBose Hewaard and 

the Gershwins (George and Ira) 

#Six Word Saturday     

Today

That is all.

#MicroblogMonday

Welcome to Monday

With this shirt, I enter a Monday. 

And away we go. 

#MicroblogMonday

#ProudToLove*

color me amazed by the decision.

#sixwordsaturday

*youtube celebrates marriage equality 

Welcome to Summer

dad and his mom early '60s?

Summer of 1973. By this point my parents had been separated for about five years.. There were the usual battles most of which involved his promising to come get us for an outing and not showing.

Mom covered for him as much as she could. And while losing confidence she never failed to ready us for a "dad" day.

Summer of 1973 I was graduating from elementary school. A big deal under regular circumstances made bigger being as I'd skipped a grade and was at least a full year younger than most of the other graduates.

Tickets were limited and given the track record of the previous five years, mom decided dad wouldn't be invited to the ceremony. Following some heated, some hushed conversations, dad announced that there would be a day of celebration, just the two of us.

All decked out in my green and white maxi dress, white pumps with matching handbag, and pearl necklace with matching earrings, I sat on the sofa, nervous that once again, he wouldn't show. Steeling myself for the disappointment.

But, he did show. We had lunch in a fancy restaurant where he ordered me a drink topped with fruit, stabbed with one of those paper umbrellas. After lunch we went to a play and while I've long forgotten what we saw, I remember having kept the playbill for a long time. After the play we went for ice cream sundaes.

I am not prone to hyperbole, but that day . . . best ever.

That day wound up being one of very few that we would share. That day is the one I held close when we were so far apart. The memory of that day helped lead us to an eventual reconciliation and what prompted the letter I wrote to say, good-bye.

Summer of 1973, the standard bearer for all subsequent summers.

Thank you, dad.

#MicroblogMonday

Better, but SO Much Room for Improvement

Same shit on a different day. 

#SixWordSaturday

Welcome to Wednesday* CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

All the words in the world won't stem the pain, won't wipe the tears, won't erode the knots growing beneath my skin.

Put on A Happy Face

Ready or not, time has come. 

#SixWordSaturday 

Drive Time

So, I drove a car a few weeks ago. I know for most this feat is no big whoop. But I haven't owned a car in many years and haven't been behind the wheel in at least three.

My daughter considered taking a Saturday shift at a location with sketchy public transportation. She asked if I would pick her up if she reserved a Zip.

The idea made me nervous. But I said, "sure" with much more confidence than I felt. She booked the gig and reserved the car. I had a week to think about it, tried not to dwell, tried not to be filled with dread.

The day, the hour arrived. I accessed the vehicle, churned the engine, and navigated by way to the venue.

All-in-all, not a horrible experience but I'm good letting others do the driving, for the most part.

#MicroblogMondays

Six Seven on Saturday

                                1. Shut Up and Dance With Me!

2. Strawberry Letter 23 skating party gold.

3. Celebrating the lasting sweetness of Sugar.

4. And then I look at you . . 

5. The classics, they live on forever.

6. It isn't summer yet, but soon.

7. Dance me to the end, love.  




#sixwordsaturday

On This Day

Thanks to a nasty cold, I've spent the better part of the last two days horizontal. Sleeping, whenever I wasn't medicating, coughing, sneezing, blowing my nose. And as such, have spent little time thinking about the party we hadn't planned, the meal we weren't having. My mom would have been seventy-five today. It is hard to remember the smile that traveled a mile, the laugh that went on and on when the mood struck just right and not be sad that it has to be a memory and not present to experience.

Still, to have had moments of glee, pockets of pleasure in our time together is something to be grateful for and certainly cause for celebration. Someday.

Happy Birthday, mom.

Poof. The Time Went

Cinnamon and cleaning do not mix. 

The plan was to post on Saturday. But, early morning meandering, and then cleaning, and then, more meandering and poof, before I knew it, Sunday. A new day, a new plan but--well, chores, errands, and stuff and then, well, fudge on a stick, it is Monday.

Monday came and went like an order of fried green tomatoes with extra sauce. That is to say, fast.

Suddenly it is a (now expected) cool-ish Tuesday beyond the middle of the month, in center of the season. Folks all around are clamoring about Summer (and requisite plans) where I feel barely settled into Spring and having, "not done a thing."

And really? Not wanting to do anything yet wanting to do everything to take my mind off the twenty-sixth of May, a week from today. As much as I lament the loss of time and feeling like precious time has been flying by with little to show, I am hoping that each of the next seven days truly are an order of fried green tomatoes.

with extra sauce.



.

Hit. Miss.

Our schedules are in sync lately. We keep running into each other during the morning commute. I was hoping that her reason for leaving earlier these days meant she wanted time before checking into the office, to sit and have a sip in the park across the street from our respective work places. But I haven't seen her there. 

Yet. 

I know she sees me, our eyes meet, hers sparkle. I hope mine do the same. Yet, she gives nothing more away. I'm reluctant to do much more than smile, nod. It is the bus and even the friendliest of conversations are awkward on the bus. Especially our bus. Too many school children free-ranging their way to school. At least, hopefully, school is the eventual destination. 

Two weeks. I get off two stops ahead so I could get in extra steps, go get coffee and then to the park to sit, sip, and think. I know she can see me from her office, I don't know that she cares, I think she does, I hope she does. I don't know why I'm not more forward. Yes, I do.  

Hurt. Fear. Wrong. 

******************************************************************************

And thus ends the snippets of a re-curring dream, the snippets culled together to form a narrative. Is it just a story? Or more? 

Welcome to Monday. 

Random questions: How many times do you have to unsubscribe before it "takes"? How many times do you give it before complaining?   How long do you give websites you are not so familiar with to load before saying, "F" it and move the frack on, several seconds, one minute, more . . .? 

#MicroBlogMonday 

It is the ninth of May

*click image for artist page*

There is music in the air. 

#sixwordsaturday

Real Talk

**click image for link to shop** 

I won't gummy this up with a bunch of sugary sweet platitudes. I love these cards. Period.

Let's face it, shit happens and often times a crap load of shit happens to our parents, lovers, best friends, bloggers with whom we have an incredible bond, whom we love dearly. . .

And often times we are struck for what to say, fearful that we'll say the wrong thing, muddy up the waters with too much sugar. Folks dealing with serious illness need to know we care and many need us to deliver real talk, if we're going to say anything at all.

 A couple of FB peeps posted about these cards and I thought I'd share.

#fuckcancer

Welcome to May

*click image for link* 

     

May is National Bike Month. Next week is National Bike to Work Week with the events culminating on Friday, the 15th, National Bike to Work Day! That out of the way, rest assured Melody and I will not be biking to MY workplace as I am on the other side of the average spectrum.

My workplace is not within five miles of home base. My workplace is over 10 miles from home base. Further, I am a good distance away from being in the kind of shape that can do 10+ miles once a day, let alone, twice.






Never-the-less, I do plan, hope, and expect to increase my time aboard Melody. I will pedal the month away as the weather and my body allows. May Spring bleed into Summer and good biking weather be the norm rather than the exception. Happy pedaling.


#MicroBlogMonday

Number Nine Hundred

YOU are always on my mind. 

#SixWordSaturday