For Now, This

Of course, I did not intend to stay away for so long.  

Of course, I won't regale you with all that didn't happen, namely my thoughts solidifying into a comprehensible mass. 

Of course, summer has bled into Autumn.

May kindness rule over the next few days, leading to the next post.  

Asked and Answered

Growing up my friends and family called me Debbie. At some point in adulthood, I became, Deborah and I corrected folks who slipped to call me Debbie or . . ugh, Deb.  

There was a regime change at my work a year or so ago. My new supervisor began referring to me as, Deb.

Other colleagues followed suit (mostly in emails and IMs).  I never made any moves to stop/correct them, convincing myself it wasn't that it wasn't a big deal.  

It isn't.  Really.  But, . . . .   

If you ask my name or what I prefer I say, Deborah.  Deb o rah

Last week a patient insisted on changing the pronunciation from Deb o rah to Dee BOR ah when she noted how I spell my name (the context being my name is part of my work email).

For the record, I detest the Dee BOR ah pronunciation; though technically many folks accept that way of saying Deb o rah. The conversation with the patient was more frustrating than the dozens of emails and IM messages that begin, "Hi Deb" . . . 

The saving grace was knowing I wouldn't have to speak with her again; her problem was solved, and her case was closed. 

It will feel weird to add in my reply to the Hi Deb emails with...oh, by the way, my name is . . . 

All things considered, there are greater issues with which to take umbrage.  

But if you ask me my name, I'll say . . . 

DebOrah

 

Thank You. 

On Theme

 

This photo was uploaded on 07/24/24 with the intent that I would have written and then posted the subsequent post. 

Here we are some days later, well into August and here I am writing and posting.  

In the interim one aunt celebrated her 94th birthday (she, the mother of an only daughter) and another, celebrating birthday number 87 next month expressed extreme frustration with her only daughter.  

This only daughter celebrated and mourned for deep, deep reasons in conversations with both.  

For the record, when I talk about family, aunts, uncles, cousins, it is primarily my maternal relatives I speak of. I don't really have a relationship with any of my dad's side.  I am virtually connected to a few cousins but we haven't spent any face-to-face time together in decades.  When they speak of our grandparents, their parents, and our shared cousins, I'm at a lost.  I don't have the comfort of the history they enjoy.  

Also in the interim of the posting of that lovely sunflower a neighbor died.  Our across the hall neighbor, with whom we had a companiable relationship, had gone silent to her distant (she didn't have any relatives in town) relatives. After a couple of days of her not responding to messages, they called our local police for a well check.  

Her brother (driver of a vehicle with Texas plates) is here to . . . do what needs doing.  He's been here for two weeks.  Neighbors who have seen, met him outside the building report he isn't doing well; he is deep in the grips of grief. 

I can relate.  Deeply.

For also since the posting of that lovely sunflower yours truly celebrated another birthday. Conversations with my brothers (one actual phone conversation the other a conversation by proxy--my older brother and I do not talk) along with conversations with other relatives and friends kicked up a bunch of memorial dust. m

Here I sit on August 14th . . .  well, basically it, here I sit.  I'm not making plans beyond the next 24 (okay, maybe 48) hours.  I am living in the moment, taking it all a day and a step at a time.  

My knees will not allow much more than that.  

In other news I have posted at least one post a month save June.  What happened in June?  Still, on pace to hit 1,130 posts before years' end.  (I'm at 1,128 LOLOLOL) 

Take gentle care, gentle folks; life is a celebration, Celebrate Life.  (of Fame -the TV show, fame).  

Verano

Some time ago I started working with one of the language apps to learn Spanish.  I have had some success but I have also stalled. I have been unable or unwilling to fully commit; I haven't done more than two lessons a day (though I do log in daily) I haven't (seriously) sought out other learning methods, no Spanish language listening apps, no written stories beyond that which is provided for free through the free app, and as important, no serious efforts to connect with other learners for real-time conversation.  I discovered that our local library has a group that meets once a month or so.  But short of finding and investigating sources, that has been the extent of taking the learning to the next level.    

I languish at the basic learning level. 

What will be the catalyst to move the meter? 

Mientras tanto disfruta tu verano.  

I am going to enjoy mine.  

Take gentle care, 

oxox 

New Month

Happy July.  

In the wise words of Lorraine Hansberry, "Never be afraid to sit and think."  

Sitting.  

Thinking. 

Unafraid.  

Take gentle care.  

Apropos of Month-End

site for article

I was clicking and scrolling about the internet and came across an ad for Gorilla Sofa. Imagine my shock and awe when the search bar query yielded multiple images of multiple varieties of magnificence.  

Now, I can't imagine feeling the need to NEED to have such a thing in my living space but several folks across the web exclaimed just that. 

Different strokes and all that whiz. 

Happy End of May.  Happy beginning of P R I D E Month.  

Journal Art: A Start

Pineapple Art 

Berries on the vine

                                                               

Grapes

I journal.  I do art.  I'm recently endeavoring to do art journaling.  What you see here are my most recent entries. I am still deciding on a central theme; these efforts are more of daily practice sketching with a twist. 

Don't worry, I still have charcoal experimentation ahead; I still remember.    

Ninety Days

I am here.  

Again. 

Reset.

Rinse. Repeat. Return.

To the series of good habits for the well-being of mind and body. 

Ninety days. 

One day at a time.  

I can clear my system in 90 days

Annual Spring Shares

When I was a kid with brothers, cousins, and a great-aunt.  

Me, when my kids were kids. 

I have had a song in my head for weeks.  I heard it years ago in a TV program. And other than the hook I cannot remember anything more except that it is haunting, about longing, and for me, grief.  

I'm sure I jotted down a note when I heard it because it hit me hard; with the intent to look into it further toward adding it to a collection. 

My recent, not-too-furious search uncovered many songs with a similar theme and hook (or title). None of the samples I played resembled the song of my memory.   

At this point, I am not sure I can trust my memory.  I do trust the emotion dredged up by said memory. 

I won't keep looking for that song.  I shall spend time with songs I already have in the collection, songs that take me away from longing and grief, songs that lighten my heart and give me ideas of moving my feel.  

It is just an idea for I am a bit of a klutz and certainly don't want an 'oops, I've fallen' scenario. 

Happy Spring

Snack Happy

Recently I celebrated my tenth anniversary with my current employer. Please note that the folks who hired me are no longer with the firm (due to an amicable merger and eventual resignations due to other factors) but the spirit and the nature of the larger company still exist, most days. :-)   

Soon this space will celebrate an anniversary as well.  (March 29, 2006, was the first post) The second was published in May, 2006.)

I have ruminated over the last several months about both spaces; how long will working remotely be a perk that holds me in place? How attractive would a different position have to be to entice? Am I as ready to stop the grind altogether? 

And in this space? Should it remain Middle Girl (I have to admit to not being in love with the moniker)--I am a long, long way from the "girl" stage of life and have to admit more, I have an issue with referring to adult women as, "girl" (even in the cultural colloquial, "sister girl" manner). 

That's a blog for another day. 

But, re-brand to...what? 

Beyond what to call it, am I still drawn to publish thoughts, art, and beyond? Am I encouraged, motivated, and entertained, by the engagement of others (btw: yes!)  But, enough to work to grow, expand, and shift the focus for even greater engagement? Or Is the current level enough--and for how long, how much?   

Some folks who left blogging when folks were leaving to head over to the lands of other social media platforms have begun to return to this platform; each for their own reasons.  It isn't a flock by any stretch but, encouraging, to be sure. 

Not prolific recently as in years past, (140 posts in 2006) the space has begun to feel a tad abandoned, held taut by a slim thread.  That said, I have routinely felt more at home here than on any other platform, for what that is worth. 

Much, I think. 

Still, I also feel a pull for some kind of change. 

Or not; this is anniversary musing or the prospect of Spring. 

It is

 When I snapped this photo it was early in the month and now the month is nearly over.  

Wow. 

I haven't started using the charcoals yet but am starting to get back into my daily sketch practice.  I haven't sketched "daily" in recent weeks but certainly more than in the weeks preceding the first new sketch in several weeks; nine in the last month.  

Woot.  

twenty twenty four

We are now twelve days into this new year.  Twelve days of . . . well, honestly, same old stuff.  I didn't set any specific intentions for the new year other than continuing on the path of better...everything; eating, walking, working, playing, thinking, laughing, loving, writing, sketching, and maybe even some painting.  

Actually, there is a specific intention... I was gifted some color pencils and charcoal sticks.  I haven't worked with charcoal since high school.  The intention is to dig into reacquainting myself with that medium. 

That should be fun.  

The forecast for the next several days is winter at its most wintery; cold, snow, and more (deep) cold.  If you're in a part of the world experiencing some extreme weather (or some other extreme) be careful and be safe. 

One day, one step. 

Photograph and Memory

 

This is my third grade class.  I left this school after third grade so most of the folks pictured I never saw again.  This class photo is but one of two I have throughout my years in elementary school.  The other is a photo from kindergarten.  I'm sure (mostly) that there were photos taken but I don't have them.  they were either lost in one of our many moves or...   

It is also possible that I missed class photos as I transferred to a lot of schools.  Spending half a year in one and finishing in another.  I may have mentioned that by the time I was in 8th grade, I'd attended eight elementary schools.  

While I did spend the 4 years in a single high school; I didn't make friends easily and didn't really feel comfortable in school until my senior year.  

I was mildly excited to put all those years behind me.  

Except they were never behind me.  Or, at least, not for a long, long, time.  

Two Years

 

Some years ago a couple of FB friends introduced a game(?).  If you commented on their post indicating you wanted to participate, they give you a year and you post a memory.  

I'm 37 Year 1997: 

What I remember: Upheavals 

In the workplace, CEO of parent company died;  beginning of a period of uncertainty which lasted over two years.  In the home, marriage crawling to an end; having to maintain some semblance of equilibrium, to provide guidance for 15 year old son and 12 year old daughter.  

I'm 27 Year 1987 

What I remember: Kindergarten.  Son and two orientations in two schools due to an unfortunate incident forcing our little family unit's move from one apartment to another.  I counted blessings for having found an apartment within two blocks of the initial orientation school only to find out we were two blocks of that that school's zone. Thus, an orientation at the second school. In addition, toddler turning two during this year.  Beyond these events? 1987 was basically a blur. 

To be honest, the 80s were a blur except for all things child related; feedings, diapers, training, walking, talking, schools, lessons, learning, laughing, crying, and being.  

   

   

September ? ! ? !

 Do you remember

The 21st night of September?

Love was changing the minds of pretenders

While chasing the clouds away*

My son mentioned in conversation the other day, "we're coming up on my favorite months...the 'ber months; September, October, November, December!" He went on to say why, though I already knew.   I love how my son speaks to me as though I didn't give birth to him and lived with him for at least half of his life.  Admittedly, he's formed some insights and outlooks since being out on his own for many years now, but, still, . . I know he's a lover of autumn and (early) winter. 

Otherwise in the intervening weeks since last I visited here, a paternal aunt died, a maternal aunt became seriously ill (recovering), I snipped a bit of my hair--not a lot, just a couple of inches--amazing what a difference it makes. It's a mindset.  I also told a fib. A (casual and equally remote) co-worker asked oh so matter-of-factly, if I had a FB account. I replied, in kind, 'No'. (a fib) I wasn't up for the back-and-forth about how I don't invite any co-workers to any social media space, how I need a bit of separation, how I have very few FB friends that I haven't met F2F or haven't known virtually for many years now (or both).  

Fact is, my social media (FB anyway) days are feeling quite numbered.  I quit the last art group a few days ago. The mission of the group shifted and with that, two of the three admins opted out. Several other members quit and after a bit of navigation, I just wasn't feeling the vibe of the new scene.  I dropped out.  

I did put in an application with another sketching group with a mission more aligned (per their introduction) with my own.  I'm waiting to hear. 

But, I think I have, just this very moment decided that, while I won't likely leave the platform altogether, my engagement will be much, much less, likely toward an eventual departure.  Granted a some friends are still there are are engaging in some way. We'll see.  Still, if the art group chooses me, I may pass.  

Whether I'm in a FB group or no, I will keep sketching. I will keep sharing somewhere, here or IG. (or both). 

Oh, and I lost 100 lbs.  Well, I lost and found the same 10 pounds ten times.  Same thing.  ::smile:: 

Enjoy what is left of your summer.  

I hope you're welcoming fall with open arms and warm hearts.  

*September songwriters: Allee Willis, Al Mckay, and Maurice White  recorded by Earth, Wind, and Fire, released 11/18/1978

 

 

.  

And Just Like That (Again)

 

An entire season gone and no posts.  

Wow.  

That certainly was not the plan, but here we are.  

And to be frank, this isn't a post inasmuch as it is a, "hey, I'm still here" notice.  

So, I'm here.  

Still sketching (though, there too, lapses. Oy) 

Still haven't cut my hair though I do think it is thinning some. Que sera sera.  

Still working the 9 to 5 (remotely--thank goodness!!!) 

Still trying to . . . (oh, so much).  

Until next time (before the end of the season, is the plan) be kind, be present, and 

take extremely gentle care.  

This world.  

Wow.  

Fiction (from a prompt)

 

She is cold.  

There is a barely there light filtering through the window. 

The cold and the sliver of light are enough to awaken Nina's body.  

Her mind is slow to follow; too busy manifesting a way to get warm and perhaps 

lure her body back to sleep is all the mind can handle.     

Somewhere between asleep and the opposite; Nina heard a noise.  And then, the familiar aroma of a most decadent pleasure wafted throughout the space. The excitement, the growing expectation, the taste was nearly dancing her tongue.  

Nina's mind and body are now fully engaged for soon she knew the door would creak open and Adrienne would sidle close to the bed, gently set down the tray with the steaming cups . . . 

After everything that happened last night, Nina had to have that cup of coffee this morning. 

She is warm now.  

**meant to publish on the 29th the birthday of my blog in honor of my pal, Nina.  Happy belated birthday to Middle Girls and to Nina.   

   

     

  

Ten Years

ten years ago last saturday my mom drew her last breath.  the moment is forever (at least so far) etched in my memory, forever written on my aura.  

yet 

i try not to dwell on the pain of the loss, endeavoring to churn energies toward the joy of the being. 

the existence, her existence in my life, the fact of my life.  

if not for her, i wouldn't be here.  i wouldn't be who i am. 

i won't sugar-coat and wax all philosophic about our lives together.  

it wasn't all good. in fact, much was not so good. 

still, she made the best, gave the most, and cheered like no other has or likely will.  

love. adore. cherish.  may the smiles fuel all the tomorrows.  

love, me. 

Two for Twenty-three

Some days ago my phone died.   

No warning.  No precursor. No forward.  

Just, one second on and the next, blank. 

            Frustration ensued.  

A new phone was acquired in relatively short order thanks to insurance.  The new device is mostly set-up.  Familiar and regular virtual destinations are more-or-less re-established.  

            More-or-less.   

One place has been resistant to let me back in.  I stressed about it the first day.  Stressed less the second day.  And now, moving in on the third... 

             I may resign myself to being away.  

             I'll give it a few more days.  

I hate to just disappear without a word to the communities I frequented.  But I may not have any choice. Maybe the universe is navigating a change for me, my time and energies.  

We'll see what happens in a few days.  

Happy January.  

        

And Just Like That

The holiday season is officially (or unofficially, depending on who you ask) over. 

There were precious few viewings of holiday movies (no "Love, Actually" though I did try--once I couldn't, the thrill *such as it was* for most anything was squashed). 

There was a marked avoidance of all holiday specials and except for promos, no holiday music.  

There were no Christmas cookie baking as we are not big Christmas cookie bakers / eaters.  

For all that wasn't there was much talking, laughing, eating, and acknowledging how grateful we are to have our health and miles and miles of good cheer.