Tuesday
So long, so far away
Things have been rather busy here, in the world of me. Stuff to do, people to see, work to do. Work, work, work. It makes me a very dull girl some days. I seem to be missing out on some very important things in life.
On the verge of being a less-than boring girl, if all the stars align. Send good thoughts - life is about to get VERY interesting.
Monday
Destination moon
Autumn is usually the best time to see a gorgeous moon out my window. I was pleasantly surprised last night to find this when I took the dog out (really, Ezmond, you need to go out AGAIN?)
I forgave him. It was harder to forgive my daughter who used the camera and didn't charge it. I'm never pleased to hear the "I'm shutting down because I have no juice" noise. After 4 shots. Especially when I just charged the darn thing.
But the moon was pretty, the dog played happily in the moonlight and life was peaceful for a few moments. I'm grateful for that.
But the moon was pretty, the dog played happily in the moonlight and life was peaceful for a few moments. I'm grateful for that.
Sunday
Seven
Days a week
Dinners to cook
Times to tell her I LOVE YOU
Hours of sleep
Promises to keep
Did I mention dinners to cook?
When you have not been given an end date but you know the end is near, it's the little things that show up in your dreams.
7 Dragonflies
following the sun as it sets
Trying to say goodbye
To people who just don't get
that what it is
is what it is.
I talk to her 7 times a week.
Shes lucky to hear from her daughter
7 times a year.
Poor little thing, she doesn't know
what she missed.
One day becomes every day
Every day becomes the one.
And I will sing seven songs of joy.
Dinners to cook
Times to tell her I LOVE YOU
Hours of sleep
Promises to keep
Did I mention dinners to cook?
When you have not been given an end date but you know the end is near, it's the little things that show up in your dreams.
7 Dragonflies
following the sun as it sets
Trying to say goodbye
To people who just don't get
that what it is
is what it is.
I talk to her 7 times a week.
Shes lucky to hear from her daughter
7 times a year.
Poor little thing, she doesn't know
what she missed.
One day becomes every day
Every day becomes the one.
And I will sing seven songs of joy.
Friday
Pardon the interruption
Where do I find an hour shop?
You know, a place that will give me an extra hour a day to do the things I WANT to do (like write, paint my toenails lime green, take a long bath) and not spend every waking moment doing things I HAVE to do. Like feeding the hungry children, walking the dog and trying to make someone feel better for some unknown wrong that was done so long ago that I don't think it's in the deepest recesses of my memory banks.
Speaking of memory banks, I just received my first Christmas thank you note. Ever. Seriously, I send them off the day after I get gifts and never look back. But I have yet to have received one ever from a nephew or a niece for a gift. Did I say EVER?
Because of this, I gave the kids permission to send them only if they wanted to - or to sign mine, as well. Of course, they signed the family thank you and were pleased as punch to not be locked in a room and "...don't come out until you're done!" Yes, I'm that mom.
So, can you imagine my surprise when a thank you note was received from my least favorite brother and his wife and kids? I was so surprised, I had to look at the envelope to make sure my mom hadn't sent it.... after locking them in a room at her house and telling them they couldn't leave until they had written all their note. Or else. nNow, if my favorite brother had sent one off, I would have had a heart attack and a serious need for some Strawberry Haagen Dazs ice cream. And that's saying something.
But there's a punch line, and a funny one at that. Out of the note fell a small piece of paper from my sister in law. It said, "We missed getting personal notes from each of you this year."
Well, considering that I can jump to conclusions and assume the worst, I decided to set it aside and think about it and read it later, when I wasn't so conclusion-jumping. Nope, it still feels like a slight bash. So, I started to pen a nice little note to them, to thank them for their thank you.
"Dear (insert name here),
Thank you so much for acknowledging the gifts we spent a bit of time selecting at the dollar store. We are pleased as punch that you liked the fuzzy purse/football/cheap statue of jesus. However, in the future, if you would please put your note in an envelope any color other than yellow, we would be very appreciative."
Sigh.
Sorry, sarcasm just shows up, no matter what I do.
Anyway, I've been busy writing elsewhere and have spent a bit of time on this new story idea. The one about the census takers being an alien species that are here to take over, they act disturbingly like bees from a hive (they all know everything that they each learn) and our heroine is the only one who can see the oddities occuring. Everyone else is oblivious. She's highly sarcastic. Has great boots. Who is it that she reminds me of so strongly...?
Anyway, I hope to show up more frequently here but can't make any promises. The story just can't wait, you know, and we wouldn't want it taking over, or anything.
So, what's up with you?
You know, a place that will give me an extra hour a day to do the things I WANT to do (like write, paint my toenails lime green, take a long bath) and not spend every waking moment doing things I HAVE to do. Like feeding the hungry children, walking the dog and trying to make someone feel better for some unknown wrong that was done so long ago that I don't think it's in the deepest recesses of my memory banks.
Speaking of memory banks, I just received my first Christmas thank you note. Ever. Seriously, I send them off the day after I get gifts and never look back. But I have yet to have received one ever from a nephew or a niece for a gift. Did I say EVER?
Because of this, I gave the kids permission to send them only if they wanted to - or to sign mine, as well. Of course, they signed the family thank you and were pleased as punch to not be locked in a room and "...don't come out until you're done!" Yes, I'm that mom.
So, can you imagine my surprise when a thank you note was received from my least favorite brother and his wife and kids? I was so surprised, I had to look at the envelope to make sure my mom hadn't sent it.... after locking them in a room at her house and telling them they couldn't leave until they had written all their note. Or else. nNow, if my favorite brother had sent one off, I would have had a heart attack and a serious need for some Strawberry Haagen Dazs ice cream. And that's saying something.
But there's a punch line, and a funny one at that. Out of the note fell a small piece of paper from my sister in law. It said, "We missed getting personal notes from each of you this year."
Well, considering that I can jump to conclusions and assume the worst, I decided to set it aside and think about it and read it later, when I wasn't so conclusion-jumping. Nope, it still feels like a slight bash. So, I started to pen a nice little note to them, to thank them for their thank you.
"Dear (insert name here),
Thank you so much for acknowledging the gifts we spent a bit of time selecting at the dollar store. We are pleased as punch that you liked the fuzzy purse/football/cheap statue of jesus. However, in the future, if you would please put your note in an envelope any color other than yellow, we would be very appreciative."
Sigh.
Sorry, sarcasm just shows up, no matter what I do.
Anyway, I've been busy writing elsewhere and have spent a bit of time on this new story idea. The one about the census takers being an alien species that are here to take over, they act disturbingly like bees from a hive (they all know everything that they each learn) and our heroine is the only one who can see the oddities occuring. Everyone else is oblivious. She's highly sarcastic. Has great boots. Who is it that she reminds me of so strongly...?
Anyway, I hope to show up more frequently here but can't make any promises. The story just can't wait, you know, and we wouldn't want it taking over, or anything.
So, what's up with you?
Black Coffee
Blowing steam
off her cup
she watches silently
as all her hopes
and dreams
and future plans
shatter
in a moments breadth.
A deep sigh escapes as,
once again,
life disappoints.
She realizes things are not always
as she had hoped.
“Is there any whiskey for my coffee?”
That cute waiter.
Caught kissing
the busboy.
A little private Flash 55 for my friends. You can see more by visiting GALEN.
Just don't tell him who sent you...
Monday
Eyes melt, skin explodes... everybody dead!*
My age is beginning to get to me.
Not because I feel anywhere near the age I actually am,
but because, when people ask me how old I'm going to be on my birthday
and I tell them
they always, always, ALWAYS ask,
"what was it like....in the 80s?"
Well, people, I'm here to tell you... it was UGLY.
There were those shoulder pads.
Everyone smoked Players cigarettes
and wore leather jackets.
"Frankie Say: RELAX"
Neon yellow puffy paint.
Baggy jeans that were too short AND tight at the ankle.
AIDS.
"I'm just a Gigolo"
and that movie about the whore that every man fell in love with.
We won't even talk about ass pants
(for my son's sake)
(OK, now I have to explain - blue jeans so worn-out that the ass had rips -
and I WORE BOXER SHORTS OR MEN'S LONGJOHNS UNDERNEATH - I SWEAR)
Short, spiky hair.
Advertising.
Party, party & more party time.
"I'll sleep when I'm dead"
My high school yearbook shows way too much BIG hair,
too many girls with too much eye makeup
and a severe shortage of good taste.
Me? I wore levis 501s and my grandfather's old suit jackets.
Converse high tops.
Shopped resale.
Bowling shirts, wife beaters, doc martins.
Carried a messenger bag. Dated a messenger.
Ate butterscotch candies
Bought swatch watches and wore the box.
Everyone thought I was weird.
I did have feathered hair, but you can forgive me that.
Right?
(Oh, no, I wonder if they saw the lime green dress)
(I wore that to Frankie Goes to Hollywood open for Power Station)
(Oh, Damn)
Please?
(*Name that 80s movie - be the first to tell me who said it and what movie it came from and I'll send you a monkey. I love monkeys...)
Wednesday
a New Year to stomp
It's almost that time again. The evening full of sparkling cider with the kids, good-bad movies (you know, a bad movie that doesn't take itself seriously so it's... GOOD) and board games.
The dog will sleep at my feet, after a long walk. My son will be elsewhere but I'll get a midnight text. There will likely be a long bath.
A part of all of this is usually the list. You know, "resolutions". I laugh at your resolutions and substitute my own. Oh wait, that's supposed to be reality, not resolutions. But I think it works.
Here's my list. Laughter is allowed and expected.
NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS
Be happy
Be grateful
Be centered
Be peaceful
Be baking lots of cookies
Be condescending of people who take life too seriously
Be optimistic
Be supportive
Be grace
Be silent
Be outrageous
Be trouble
Be docile
Be flamboyant
Be angry (but not often)
Be giggly
Be content
I choose 17 things, every year, that I want to remember to focus my energy upon. Last December, the list included 17 things about finding a job. I wanted a job that made me happy, helped me feel whole again, had lots of fun people to work with. That worked. I got it all AND a Madge and a Tom. Joy.
This year, it's me I want to improve. Wait. I don't mean it like that. It's me I want to GROUND. I want to rediscover joy in little things, be happy with what I have, work less and complete more.
Have you made your list?
The dog will sleep at my feet, after a long walk. My son will be elsewhere but I'll get a midnight text. There will likely be a long bath.
A part of all of this is usually the list. You know, "resolutions". I laugh at your resolutions and substitute my own. Oh wait, that's supposed to be reality, not resolutions. But I think it works.
Here's my list. Laughter is allowed and expected.
NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS
Be happy
Be grateful
Be centered
Be peaceful
Be baking lots of cookies
Be condescending of people who take life too seriously
Be optimistic
Be supportive
Be grace
Be silent
Be outrageous
Be trouble
Be docile
Be flamboyant
Be angry (but not often)
Be giggly
Be content
I choose 17 things, every year, that I want to remember to focus my energy upon. Last December, the list included 17 things about finding a job. I wanted a job that made me happy, helped me feel whole again, had lots of fun people to work with. That worked. I got it all AND a Madge and a Tom. Joy.
Have you made your list?
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