Tag: life

Inked (repost)

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As some of you may know, I lost my youngest son four years ago. Last Saturday I finally got a tattoo honoring him and my love for him.

My friend Tiffany at Tiffany Arp-Daleo Artworks had lost her mother, someone who meant as much to her as my loved ones do to me. Today she posted a lovely post about the tattoo she got to honor her mother.

Tattoos are not for everyone. But for those who get them, each one is special and magical. It takes a special person to share their grief and connection both in body ink and in a blog. 

Here is hers.

 

Inked

 
Tiffany Arp DaleoSan Diego ArtistWomen ArtistCalifornia ArtistSan Diego

I wanted to do something special to remember my mom, who passed away on December 9th. We often joked about getting matching mom/daughter tattoos, but it never happened.

When she was first diagnosed with dementia, she went through her things and got rid of a lot. Besides being a great artist, she was also a writer and wrote poems and stories, but sadly, most of that she threw away. While I was going through her remaining belongings, I found this poem on a small piece of paper and decided to keep it. She probably wrote it after my dad passed away.

It took some effort to find someone who was willing to do the tattoo on the specific date, and someone who could do the lettering exactly in her handwriting. I found my guy at Seventh Serpent Tattoo, and I couldn’t be happier with the final tattoo, he nailed it. 😊

 

The original handwritten poem

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Sunday Evening Art Gallery — Maarten Vrolijk

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Maarten Vrolijk is an Amsterdam-based artist and designer who considers it important to elaborate on the simple, unequivocal nature of a product or art work and has been creating his works for over 25 years.His aesthetic and ‘art language’ is particularly unusual because it consciously plays with shapes, colours and materials in an uncontrived way.

He also believes his pieces should also make people’s everyday lives that bit more beautiful through the many little details that evoke the unexpected.Vrolijk is perhaps best known for glass vessels with their outgrowth of colored glass fragments.The volatility in accomplishing the exceptional thickness of his vases creates a risky balance between strength and delicacy.The thermal stress caused when trying to equalize the interior and exterior temperature of the cooling vessels, is fraught with the threat of breakage.

To create each piece, a meticulously patterned bed of broken glass pieces is strategically laid down and heated to a specific temperature in order to be properly fused to a nascent blown glass form.

The temperature and timing must be precisely in tandem. It is a high-stakes process that results in a kind of frozen sense of chaos.

More of Maarten Vrolijk’s unique glasswork can be found at https://www.maartenvrolijk.com/

 

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Tattoos

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Tattoos are like stories – they’re symbolic of the important moments in your life. Sitting down, talking about where you got each tattoo and what it symbolizes, is really beautiful.

~ Pamela Anderson

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Quiet Saturday Mornings

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Just like smooth jazz, a mellow, drifting kind of magic from my friend Gigi over at Rethinking Life….

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Beauty….

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November 18, 2025

A close-up of a white bird preening its feathers.

I’m amazed at how beautiful this photo is
the delicate feathers
the gentleness of the sleep
the coloring
everything is perfect

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Always a Little Sadness Around the Corner

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No matter how happy we are one day, there is always something around the corner waiting to cut us down a notch. 

That’s life. I know. All the philosophy in the world doesn’t change the world of pain happening or about to happen.

My chocolate lab is almost 14 — a record in some ways.  She had a fall a couple of years ago and her back legs don’t work quite right. The other day she slipped climbing out of her cage (she goes in all by herself… I leave the door open) , and pulled a muscle. She’s not eating a lot, and defecating around the house almost every day. 

She is on her way out.

I know this has happened to very  many of you — possibly over and over again. This isn’t the first dog for us that we will eventually have to put to sleep.

How do you make that decision?

Many say it’s only a dog. This part I get. But the dog is my friend, too. Listened to me crying in my beer and walking the paths exploring the woods or fetching till she almost falls over.

Like you, I will know when it’s time. I will hate it with every bone in my body, but I will know. I won’t let her suffer, I won’t force her into a life of pain and confusion just to hug her one more time.

I really didn’t mean to share this today, but it just goes to show you that you are not alone in your confusion and pain. It’s something pet owners agree to do the moment they take those puppy eyes home.

Give your cat and dog an extra hug today. Make new memories.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still Cleaning Cobwebs

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A  cloudy, cool Caturday outside today. The boys are at the end of their fishing trip, leaving me to cook and clean up dog poop. (old dog) all by myself.  I’ve spread my current art project across the kitchen take like flood waters over the dam, but am a a stopping point, so  all is good with the world.

Sluggish-a-reno. Not even Haydn’s lively Paris Symphony #82 can get my mind nor body to function.

I don’t remember being sluggish like that at an earlier age. Life wouldn’t let me. With working two jobs, raising two kids, attending school functions, you had no choice half the time when you woke up and when you went to bed. 

But this isn’t a blog today about the good ol’ days. Most times they’re never as “good” as you remember anyway. A day was just a day, a certain code restricting your freedom depending upon your age and schedule.

Sooooo ….. Are your Saturday’s fairly free? What kind of things do you plan when you don’t have to cook for company or run your kids to soccer games?

I’d love to know how you all spend your Saturday. Perhaps it would spiff me up and get me off the sofa to hear what your weekends are like. Plus, you’re from all over the world, and I’m sure location, age, weather, social influences and would put a wonderful spin on your exciting lives!

Any takers?

 

Dream Food Part Two

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Waaaay back in June of 2017 I did a fun blog about Dream Food.  It was a stimulating, mouth-watering, magical blog about (what I thought) were the most delightful photos of the most delectable food on the planet.

I came across another amazing photo of food and thought I should share it along with more delightful vittles.

Enjoy!

 

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Faerie Paths — Elegance

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Elegance is not being noticed, it’s about being remembered.

~ Giorgio Armani

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Halloween

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You can call us pumpkins
Cuz we’re soft and round
We chase each other
All over the grounds.

We hiss and bark
Yet love to cuddle
We want your food
And are not subtle

We are your pumpkins
lovable as hell
Happy Halloween!
Wishing you well!

 

 
 

Faerie Paths — Some Days …

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Help, I’m steppin’ into the twilight zone
Place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned
My beacon’s been moved under moon and star
Where am I to go now that I’ve gone too far?
George Kooymans, Golden Earring

 

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Overflow

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Fill up your own cup, and let them fall in love with the overflow.

― Harry Styles

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Sky

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Once you have tasted the taste of sky, you will forever look up.

~Leonardo da Vinci

 

 

 

 

How Many Times Do I Say “NOW”?

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 16 Comments

Well, I’ve certainly not been bored lately. 

How wonderful, you all think. Something to do all the time. Someone to do it with.

While I agree with your assessment (I am indeed blessed), I am in need of some alone time, too.

Some people HATE being alone. Past experiences, relationships, current mind chatter, all work on our psyche for good and bad. One bad carrot in the bag and we tend to throw the whole thing away.

I’ve actually been trying to EAT my carrots lately.

I’ve been busy with grandkids, camping with daughter-in-law’s parents, rearranging rooms, and today I’m moving in all my plants because of the cold nights coming (The funny thing about that is … why does it seem there are many more to bring in than were brought out last spring??) I was busy making purse charms and selling them at the art fair, shopping for products for my next art project, and collecting pics for future blogs. That’s not to mention washing tons of laundry and the ever-hated full sink of dishes.

It’s about time I pay as much attention to my body as I do picking out glass beads.

I am the heaviest I’ve ever been. I’m the most tired I’ve ever been. I am the flakiest I’ve ever been. I’m the oldest I’ve ever been, although that is a mute point. I’m also, in some worlds, the happiest I’ve ever been.

But if I don’t start working on this weight I won’t be around long enough to make any more “ever beens.”

So ONCE AGAIN I am working on a behavioral modification. I don’t do the “D” word or the “E” word any more. Those words just reflect dozens of failed New Year’s resolutions and bright spring morning starts.

I hear some of you say well, it’s too late for me. I’m too old to change my ways.

No you’re not. If you don’t start changing now, you won’t have a tomorrow to complain about.

What do dietitians and life coaches and psychics say? One day at a time?

I want to walk across a soccer field without getting a winded pain in the chest. I want to be able to lift my leg up to cross it on my other leg without pulling muscles. I want to eat healthier, sit outside more often, and be able to bend over without going “AAArrrrgggghhhh….eeeeahhhhooooo… jeeeeeezzzz.

So this Monday morning, before making a grocery list, before listening to smooth jazz jams and making homemade breakfast burritos, I am patting myself on the head and saying, “Go Girl. This time is the real time. One day at a time.”

I want to be around for my grandson’s high school graduation … heck… my seven-year-old’s high school graduation. I want to plan vacations where I can actually walk across a plaza without having to find a place to sit and recoup. I want to eat fresh foods and learn to cook all over again. I want to learn to walk and dance all over again.

If i can do it, you can do it. Do you need to do it?

Let’s get on this atta-boy band wagon together!

Faerie Paths — Dance

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Nick Cockburn

 

Life is the dancer and you are the dance. 

~ Eckhart Tolle

 

 

 

It’s almost here…

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It’s almost here. Sneaking up on us like a cat stalking a leaf.

The breezy mornings, an almost all-the-way open window, clouds that roll overhead like bubbles from a bubble machine.

Summer is starting to pack up. Getting ready to move a little further south. And her sister Fall is pushing her way into her place.

This is actually my favorite time of year. I think it is for most people.

Most don’t like sweating in their underwear, nor do we care for barely moving under a pile of blankets when the temperatures dip below 30.

We enjoy life in the middle.

Very few of us  live at either end of the Extreme. Hot/Cold, Up/Down. We may prefer nudging closer to one goal post over the other, but for the most part we hang out somewhere in the middle.

Good thing.

The extreme spots are important — where else could you enjoy snowmobiling, surfing, snow shoveling, and water parks? There is a need for anchors at both ends of the spectrum.

But many make a living in the in-between, too — plant and seed growers, fair organizers, high school sports coaches and wedding planners all prefer the cool warmth of Spring and Fall.

Me — I enjoy sweatshirts and football and soups and stews. I’m easy to please in the spring and fall.

Even though I like to think of myself as creative all year round, there’s something to be said about summer and winter projects. They just FEEL different.

I hate to admit I have more project ideas than drive and time to do them all. But there’s something about watching the leaves start to fall and seeing your breath in the morning air that makes me realize I don’t have forever to experiment.

What is your favorite time of year?

 

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Rain

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Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.

~ John Updike

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Fire

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The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire.

~ Ferdinand Foch

 

 

 

My Non-Bucket List

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 15 Comments

I have returned from a week of springtime ocean waves and beach in Destin, Florida. I am sunburn (tourist), jet-lagged (19 hours of driving one way), and sweetened out (Buc-ee’s Beaver Nuggets). I also had a marvelous time with my hubby, son, grandkids, and assorted other family members.

One of the things I’ve always wanted to do was walk the beach somewhere. Florida supplied that magical moment, although, being a little stiff these days, I was also content to sit on my balcony and watch the crashing waves with a cup of coffee and a blanket.

Which got me thinking … was this a Bucket List moment?

I don’t have a Bucket List per se. There’s so many things I’d love to do the rest of my life that my bucket list would be more than 20 pages long.

Bucket lists are made of those things one wants to do before they die. I’ve known people who have put parasailing alongside kissing the Blarney Stone as Bucket List must-haves. Other lists include seeing the Southern Cross, eating macaroons in France and spotting a whale in the ocean.

All admirable goals.

There is something so final about completing one’s Bucket List, though, that makes me not want to make one.

I’ve never had one single overwhelming desire to do much of anything during my 70-odd years of living here on Earth. I have experiences in my past that I remember to this day that, looking back, could be counted on a Bucket List. I sat at the same table at Le Recrutement Café in Paris that I once saw in a photograph; I saw the King Tut mask when it visited the Art Institute in Chicago in 1977; I was at the Beatles in concert at Comiskey Park in Chicago in August of 1965.

These memories weren’t on any list — they were just opportunities that came my way through the years.

Yet standing on the beach watching sunset over the ocean was no doubt something I wanted to experience before I left this world. That moment of beauty, of cosmic connection, was something to experience. It was a different connection than watching moonrise over the fields or sitting on a tree stump in the middle of the woods, both of which I’ve done too.

My take on the whole Bucket List thing is that one needs to think about what experiences are actually possible and which will never happen. Honesty can be a downer, but I also believe in the lemons-to-lemonade theory.

You can cross things off of your Bucket List every day.

Can’t make it to the upcoming Van Gogh: The Roulin Family Portraits at the Museum of Fine Arts Boston? Attend a local art gallery’s exhibitions. Can’t fly to the Metropolitan Opera House to hear Rossini’s Il Barbiere di Siviglia? Listen to the Met’s Saturday Matinee Broadcasts on public radio. Can’t experience sunset on the Hawaiian shore? Find a quiet spot and watch the sun set over your own town or city.

I’m not downplaying Bucket Lists. I may start one just to narrow down what I’d like to see and do before I check out the big Taj Mahal in the sky.

Until then, I’m setting achievable Bucket List goals.

Don’t make a bucket list of things you’ll never do. Don’t wait to experience awe, inspiration, peace or nirvana. Make your own version of a Bucket List , and start to experience life NOW.

Do you have a Bucket List? What’s on your list?

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Dizzy

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As long as the world is turning and spinning, we’re gonna be dizzy and we’re gonna make mistakes.

~ Mel Brooks

 

 

 

Getting Older

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 23 Comments

I don’t often share personal information or emotions on this blog. I am a cheerleader for Creativity with a capital “C” and a lover of unique art and thinking, and try and share that enthusiasm with those who will listen.

I just recently had a birthday, and it has not been sitting well with me.

I am the oldest of our set of friends, and fourth oldest in our circle of families. It has been a natural progression, and for the most part it has been a smooth ride forward.

Yet yesterday there was a bitter taste in my mouth for having been on this earth 72 years.

YES, I am more than thankful/blessed/happy for all the life I have been granted. I outlived my mother (54) and am heading towards breaking the record of my dad (85).

But this year there was a little more bitterness about the fact that the road ahead is shorter than the road behind me. A crack in my happy facade. A waiver in the solid acceptance of the inevitable.

I suppose we all reflect and react on our limited time on Earth. That’s a very human trait. I was born before there was a vaccine for polio. Before the landing on the moon and the Vietnam War. Before computers, cell phones, and Barbie Dolls.

I was born before the Internet.

That’s just a weird place to find myself. Older people always muse that today’s kids will never know what getting their first TV was like. What it was like to use the Dewey Decimal System  cards in the library. What a typewriter was. That the only place you could listen to music was a transistor radio. All those weird inventions that were, at the time, amazing.

I admit it. I don’t want to get old. I don’t want to become irrelevant.

Yet after our grandkids’ generation we will become dust in the wind, just like our grandparents and great grandparents and great-great grandparents.

That’s why all we truly have in this world is living for today. And, if we’re lucky, tomorrow. And the Next Day and the Next Day, until one day it doesn’t matter anymore.

Make today count.

 

 

Brave Little Leaf

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 2 Comments

I was sitting out on my back deck this morning and noticed this little guy hanging on from the top branch of the tree.

Brave little leaf.

Was little leaf holding on precariously or with brut strength? With rugged determination or last moment panic? Most of  little leaf’s associates had long departed for lawns and trenches and woods near and far. What was little leaf hanging on for?

Brave little leaf.

Little leaf had endured much:  blazing sun, pounding rain, thunderstorms and whipping winds. Little leaf survived birds and bugs and still hung proud and flexible in the morning sunshine.

Would little leaf hold on long enough to endure snowy winter? Mushy spring?

Brave little leaf.

Would little leaf hang on until the next generation of leaves forced leaf off the branch and into the twilight of existence? Or will the coming-of-age leaves on the branch protect and keep the leaf safe an additional season or two?

As I watched little leaf twinkle and blow in the morning breeze, I realized the leaf was going to do what we all do. Hang around until we cannot hang around any more.

That’s the best any of us can do.

 

 

 

 

Stine Writing: Repost

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I have been following Christine Bialczak at Stine Writing for a long time, but have been absent from visiting her blog lately. In returning to her most recent post I re-experienced the reason I followed her in the first place. Her poetry, her art, and her life.

I encourage you to take a look too.

Her Roundabout poem is great!

 

100 Forms of Poetry: #77 Roundabout

The Roundabout is a four stanza poem, with each stanza consisting of 5 lines. The poem is written in iambic and the lines have 4 feet, 3 feet, 2 feet, 2 feet and 3 feet respectively. The rhyme scheme is abccb/bcddc/cdaad/dabba. Roundabouts can be on any subject……..(more)

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Faerie Paths — Leaves

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Let your life lightly dance on the edges of time like dew on the tip of a leaf.
~ Rabindranath Tagore

 

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Trees

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Planting a tree is the easiest way to align yourself with the cosmic rhythm.

~ Amit Ray

 

 

 

 

Reality Check

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                                          (not my campfire)

Had a marvelous time camping … excelled at doing not a whole lot of anything for five days. Went the touristy route one day, walking through the woods/campground one day, solidifying a relationship with friends we’ve had for over 20 years every day.

Now I’m back to reality, and things are already moving too fast.

I remember when I was younger  and thought the day would never end. Of course, many of those days were work days. And I had 50 years of those five-day-a-week days. Now that I am retired I am doing more in one day than I did in several.

I’m not sure I want to be this busy.

I have to admit I’m having a ball being retired. Getting up when I want to instead of when I have to has changed my attitude for the better.

But now I’ve got mowing duties and a craft show in 10 days and my granddaughter’s concert and soccer games and baseball practice and plants to take outside for the spring and tons of laundry to do and I’m already tired thinking about it all.

It’s easy to complain about where you are in life. You’d rather be there than here. You’d rather your kids be self-sufficient instead of clingy all the time. You’d rather sit and read a book than do a sink full of dishes.

Then one day a very good friend finds cancer in their lungs or needs shoulder surgery and you realize all your complaining means nothing.

Life will go on as it always has. It will always be full of ups and downs and boredom and flash moments and there is nothing you can do about them except hold on.

Today I wish all of you bright hopes and peaceful days. Learn what you can from your experiences and help others going through theirs.

Sitting around the fire and talking with good friends was the therapy I needed to embrace the world and what little time we have left to do what we want to do.

Find your fire and sit around it when you can.

 

 

Faerie Paths — Eternity

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Mike Mackinven

 

Every action of our lives touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity.

~ Edwin Hubbel Chapin

 

 

Faerie Paths — Life

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It’s market day in Cortona
The piazza is an ongoing party,
and everyone is invited.

Clichés converge
at this navel of the world.
You almost want to laugh,
but you can’t help feeling
these Italians know more
about having fun than we do.

I eat a hot grape
from the market,
and the violet sweetness
breaks open in my mouth.

It even smells purple.

 

~Frances Mayes~
Under the Tuscan Sun

 

 

I’d LOVE to be your neighbor! Greet the Dawn (repost)

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I’d love to be Jan Beek’s neighbor! What earthly beauty, what magical poetry, what a wonderful outlook!

Do check out her love for life out at her Jan Beek …

Greet the Dawn

 

 

In My Life

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 14 Comments

Alan Aldridge

Reflections written on the 4th of July …. No drinking, no drugs. Just reflecting…

 

July 4th evening.

Here’s this old lady in a boho dress, matching pink crystal dangle earrings, sitting at a picnic bench all by herself, listening to a Beatles cover band playing in the park, all alone in my corner, singing along with every song, looking (and no doubt sounding) like a dork.

And, finally, after ALL these years, not caring.

Why did it take over 60 years to get to this place?

I’m not a pretty 70 year old. The willowy, fragile, blowing kind of older beauty groupie that could get away with singing with the band I’m not. This 70 year old is a bit scary if you ask me. There are big bags under my eyes, sagging skin, too many pounds — the whole kit n’ caboodle. 

But I’m one of those baby boomers whose life started with the Beatles. And whose life will most likely end with the Beatles.

It started many years ago with a state of mind not found in the world of 12-year-olds these days. A time when songs reflected the singers who projected themselves as innocent as they shared their hearts with innocent girls of the world.  The circle of love was pure, simple, and forever.

We didn’t know any better.

And that was okay.

I have tears in my eyes as I belt out the words to PS I Love You  and I’m Happy Just to Dance With You. At this very moment my heart hurts and I am short of breath. I am standing here by myself feeling 12 again. 

Now that there’s a break in the presentation I wonder why these days gone by mean so much to me. Why do I feel so much more of a reaction to the Beatle’s A Hard Day’s Night than I do to Purple Rain by Prince (or whatever popular song of the past 50 years comes to mind)?

Why did I come by myself?

At first I thought coming to this fun performance alone was a bad idea. Concerts are better shared with others.

Yet I am so glad I came alone. I travelled back in time, running all over the place, remembering duck taping empty album covers all over my bedroom walls and writing my first ever story about me and Paul McCartney and the Beatles concert I went to at Comiskey Park in Illinois when I was 12.

No one can hold a candle to memories like that.

And that’s why I came.

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Dessert

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 13 Comments

 

Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.

~ Ernestine Ulmer

 

 

 

 

No One Wants To Be Old

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 11 Comments

Let’s face it.

The only ones who ever want to be “older” are under 10 or near 21. Once they are “older” they will be able to do what they want whenever they want however they want to do it. No one to tell them what to do, where to go, what to eat; no one to tell them to sit up straight, don’t shuffle your feet when you walk, or make sure you eat a balanced meal.

One day you look around you and you wonder why no one told you not to eat that loaded pizza or date that iffy weirdo or to go to bed early.

There’s no one there.

I went camping over the weekend with good, good friends. No kids, just grandparents. Driving through one of the touristy northern Wisconsin towns, I couldn’t help but notice that there were nothing but old people walking the streets, shopping, eating, holding hands or walking 15 paces apart.

Where were the kids? The kids with their kids? Where were the lovers, the blind daters, and the honeymooners?

All that walked up and down the crowded streets were old people.

I couldn’t possibly fit into that category.

Old people were bent over and white haired and feeble minded and  wear North Face outerwear and tan sun block sun glasses. Old people scour the menus in restaurants for senior citizen discounts and always drive five miles per hour under the speed limit. They can’t see, they can’t hear and they’re stubborn in their opinions of the world.

That’s not me. That will never be me.

Now, if you believe that, I’ve got a three-eyed raven to sell you.

I am a senior citizen and then some.

I don’t like it, I don’t admit it, I don’t want it. That’s always the other person. Not me. I’m too young and bright and clever and amusing to be old.

Not like there’s anything wrong with old people, mind you. The world is full of old people. All shapes, sizes, colors, income levels, and energy levels.

The stigma of being “old” has been with me all of my life. Don’t know if it was bred into me as a kid, a fear and easement through my youth, an excuse for messing up, or fear of making the wrong choices.

But there’s no way I am almost 70 with a lifetime of tales behind me.

I found myself telling my hubby this weekend that I loved just sitting around the campsite in the peace and quiet just sitting. Not running after grandkids, not going shopping, not throwing in another load of laundry. Just sitting and looking at the trees, listening to the birds, and feeling the cool breeze across my face.

How boring.

How 70ish.

There’s so much more I want to do in my life. I’m done with Angel Tears for the season, but there’s turning a doll house into a haunted house I need to do with my granddaughter, Deer Hunter Widow’s weekend to plan, movies I want to watch, stories I need to finish, and books I want to read.

Not sitting around and watching the leaves blow.

The happy ending to this story is that at this point in my life I can do what I want, go where I want, be what I want. 70 or 50 or 15.

And there’s not one thing wrong in looking at the senior citizen menu. OR the blowing leaves.

 

 

Variety is the Spice of Life……….. — Boundless Blessings by Kamal (repost)

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 3 Comments

 

Life has much in store for you to receive, it is how open you are to receiving it is in your hands only. The importance of good people in our life they say is just like the importance of heartbeats. It is not visible but silently support our life. Either you can make the best […]

Variety is the Spice of Life……….. — Boundless Blessings by Kamal

 

 

Faerie Paths — Meaning and Purpose

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Don Quixote, Pablo Picasso

 

 

The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.

~Pablo Picasso

 

 

 

Life is always interesting, isn’t it?

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 12 Comments

Craig Haupt

Life is always interesting, isn’t it?

Just when you think you know something, something else comes along and pulls the rug out from under you.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, there’s a big foam pad to fall on.

I had a blog written for today, one that was about people being contradictions, saying one thing and doing another. It was a whiney little blog that, on one hand, was therapeutic, on the other said nothing new.

Then I talked to one of my best friends.

One who transferred jobs and picked up and moved three states away, leaving us friends back in Wisconsin forlorn and texting. 

It was a delightful conversation.

We complained about the usual things, laughed about family and people and personalities and told each other how important it was for us — for women — to have our own personal time and personal space, and talked about getting older and aches and pains, and shared camping stories. 

And the fog lifted.

Why do I bore you with this triviality?

To show you that it doesn’t take much to turn things around. To turn half empty to half full. To turn adversity into a learning, growing opportunity.

We all get into ruts. The same old job, the same old family disputes. The same dinner menu on Mondays and the same shopping schedules on Wednesdays. Nothing wrong with ruts, except you never get anywhere. It’s like being stuck in quicksand. 

All you need to get out of the rut is a shot of friendship. A meeting of the minds. A dip in the pool of Creativity. Whether you are connecting with an old friend, a new friend, or Vincent Van Gogh, all you need is a peek in someone else’s mind. A glimpse of someone else’s dreams. 

In making intellectual connections you are able to rise above the ruts and find a way to make a better life. Better choices. A chance to work on those dreams you’ve kept hidden for so long.

That’s why I am always pushing Creativity. In all its forms, all its diversities. The art of friendship is no different than the art of painting or calligraphy. All are enlightening, all are opportunities to shake off the gloom and moodiness that comes from ritualistic routines.

Talking to my friend reminded me that it’s time to get back into my own Art Experience. There’s always something new waiting around the corner. 

For you and for me.

 

 

Faerie Paths — Crystal

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Crystals are living beings at the beginning of creation.
~ Nikola Tesla

 

 

 

Walking. With Moment that Sticks. — Live & Learn

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Yin and Yang everywhere you look. All you have to do is look.

Take a few moments and read….

4:33 a.m., or so. You are so damn precise with your clock. I pulled into the Cove Island Park parking lot, my headlights illuminated her…sleeping. Hold that thought. It’s been 770 consecutive (almost) days on my daybreak walk. Like in a row. I was going to share a different story.  A running story. I page […]

Walking. With Moment that Sticks. — Live & Learn

 

 

 

 

Switch The Planets Around

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No offense, but, with a few exceptions, 2022 so far has sucked.

Now, I know that’s a surprising thing to hear from the Creative Faerie here, but for all the good will and wishes and well-meaning gestures and intentions and utterances, 2022 is still a handful.

And it’s only March.

I wonder idly if the planets are in retrograde or if one of Saturn’s 82 moons is a little out of sync. Maybe its the Butterfly Effect — you know — the flapping of a butterfly’s wings in South America could affect the weather in Texas (meaning that the tiniest influence on one part of a system can have a huge effect on another part). Maybe its just invisible planetwide ice coating that everyone keeps slipping on.

Whatever it is, I wish it would take a break.

Not only did I have the heartbreak of the century when I lost my son; I have a friend battling cancer, a friend with rheumatoid arthritis, friends with heart problems and others with Crohn’s Disease and friends who can’t find a job and other friends who are going through their own deep grief. The list, the line, goes on and on.

And that’s just on a personal level. Don’t get me started about the horrors in the world.

I’m sure your life is no different.

It just seems like $hit keeps hitting the fan (pardon my French) and getting spit back at me. I/we keep coping and adjusting and accepting and fixing and understanding and it all still sucks.

Now if all the 2022 misfortune so far is because of Mars in retrograde or someone across the street broke a mirror, I can handle that. It’s cosmic rules.  Stuff happens that we can’t do anything about.

But what if it’s as simple as bad luck? If it’s as simple as the tornado hitting one house, skipping the one next to it, and destroying the next?

The funny thing is that this Creative Faerie has no answers.

Life is life. Plain and simple. We deal with the hand we are dealt. Sometimes we’re given four Kings and an Ace; other times we have one of each number and suit. You can hope the others at the table are bluffing when placing their bets — after all, you’re bluffing too.

These are the days that you treasure the blessings you DO have. Your grandkids. Your health. Your weekly paycheck. Going to your parents house for dinner on Sunday. Having your parents in your life. Starting and keeping a garden. A journal. A cooking class. Painting a picture or swinging on a swing or playing dolls with your niece.

The answer is as simple as love. Love love love. Feel it, pass it along, share it, cherish it.

Stuff is going to happen. You can’t stop it. No more than you can replace one of Saturn’s moons or travel back in time.

It’s what you do with the cards you’re dealt that make all the difference in the world. To your heart, to your soul, to your friends and family.

Don’t give up.

We still have nine more months to go in 2022!

 

 

Faerie Paths — Sparkle

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Maybe our sparkle comes from somewhere deeper inside, somewhere so pure and authentic and real, it doesn’t need gloss or polish or glitter to shine.

– Mandy Hale

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Galaxies

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I promise you that the same stuff galaxies are made of, you are. The same energy that swings planets around stars makes electrons dance in your heart. It is in you, outside you, you are it. It is beautiful. Trust in this. And you your life will be grand.

— Kamal Ravikant

 

 

An Observation Not a Poem

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This is the kind of morning I’ve waited for my whole life.

Bright. Cool. Quiet.
Nowhere to go. Nothing to do.
No job. No children. No blaring TV.

At the moment
The world is standing still.

I am neither young nor old
Sickly nor healthy
Fat nor skinny

I am not a writer, a data analyst, nor a sales clerk
I am not retired nor working.
I am not a grandmother, wife, nor best friend

I am not worried about Covid nor my car breaking down nor being a cancer survivor.

I am not plagued by memories of bankruptcy, moving, nor losing my parents and in-laws.

Sitting outside on the morning deck
For a few moments
I am here.
Only here.

I am the warm sunshine on my face and the tinkling windchimes in the wind.

I am the bumble bee that stops to feed on my butterfly bush and the frog singing in the damp field and the strange bird that chirps just out of sight.

I am the plastic ornaments that sparkle tirelessly between the railings and the blooming cactus patiently waiting for my turn in the sun.

I am the airplane high above the clouds and the song of flying geese passing by.

At the moment
I am not worried
About life or death.
Breathing or not breathing.
An afterlife or a void.

In this moment
The only thing that matters
Is the beauty of life
The fragility of now

Sixty-eight years have run through this body in the sun
A brief thought of sixty eight more flashes through me

But this morning
This moment
Is enough.

 

 

Faerie Paths — Quest

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Today we still yearn to know why we are here and where we came from. Humanity’s deepest desire for knowledge is justification enough for our continuing quest. And our goal is nothing less than a complete description of the universe we live in.
― Stephen Hawking

Life Doesn’t Care

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Life is always taking a swing at us.

No matter what we’re doing, what we’re feeling, it always stands behind the curtain, waiting to catch us off guard.

It’s not always sadness waiting around the corner; it can also be excitement, satisfaction, or a myriad of other positive vibes.

But no matter what “vibe” life throws at us, dealing with it is another matter.

Yesterday my chocolate lab herniated a disc in her back. Who would have thought she could do that? She’s in perfect shape, loves running and swimming, and is of the run-run-run variety. Well, somewhere in all that running, she messed up one of her discs. A quick run to the vet got her medications and crate rest for four weeks.

One minute running and fetching and happy just to run around in the yard with us. The next, semi-paralyzed back legs, curled tail, whining, and pain. Lots of pain.

This can happen to people as well as our furry friends. And, as we get older, pulls and falls are much more in the scope of reality than ever before. 

Life doesn’t care.

Life doesn’t care about your pain, your bad luck, your body falling apart. It doesn’t differentiate between cancer and car accidents, between colds and Covid. 

There seems to be a payback for beautiful sunsets and primeval woods and flowing rivers and fields of bright flowers. It feels like there’s always a price to pay for love and companionship, for satisfaction and achievement.

Maybe “payback” is a bad choice of words. Life is not punishing you for being happy — it’s just letting you know to beware — there is always another side to the coin. A yin to the the yang and all that.

Life moves forward, whether you want it to or not. That moment of nirvana cannot last forever. Nor can the pain of inconsolable grief. 

We have to let both flow through us, around us. Like the river constantly flowing around the boulder, we have to BE that river, ebbing and rushing and sometimes still as night, flowing around obstacles that are immovable.

I am hoping puppy will be better in due time. I am hoping you will be better in due time. Just take the good and bad, the ups and downs, feel them and then let them flow away.

Remember — there’s still a lot of life out there waiting to take a swing at you.

Faerie Paths — Illusion

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Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is like a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue. 

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

 

Seeds of Survival — Ivor.Plumber/Poet (repost)

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A beautiful start to a beautiful Friday. Have a wonderful voyage!

 

https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2021/05/08/seeds-of-survival/

Life is a journey of discovery An ordained roller coaster ride Of tall crests and deep valleys And if we knew what our voyage would be We would not venture beyond the cabin door And sail the world’s unpredictable oceans Those stormy swallowing vortexes Of tall tsunami’s and deep ravines But our passage of life […]

Seeds of Survival — Ivor.Plumber/Poet

 

 

Anthro … What?

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I hate being anthropomorphic.

No — that’s not a political state of mind, nor a medical condition. The word comes from Anthropomorphism. The attribution of human traits, emotions, or intentions to non-human entities.

I am very anthropomorphic.

This is not to be a conversation/discussion of if and how animals think and feel. I will leave that to philosophers and researchers. 

I just hate feeling three-dimensional about animals. 

Most emotions are straight on. Agree, disagree. Understand, Don’t Understand. Understand yet don’t like, don’t understand.

Sifting through the emotions I feel when I see dead animals on the side of the road or in healthy zoo environments is not always an easy line for me to follow. 

I went to the zoo today with my family. The Zoo is a wonderfully clean and organized sanctuary for endangered and non-endangered animals. The animals have doctors, caretakers, chefs, and zoologists to take care of them — more than many of us have. If it were not for zoos many people would never know what some animals like rhinos or giraffes look like.

So I get it.

But when I look into the eyes of a gorilla or a seal I sometimes feel they are speaking to me. Talking to me.

And it creeps me out.

Thinking that orangutans are reading my mind or giraffes are asking to be set free in the wild is, for me, a step across the line. I mean, free the giraffes just to have them be eaten by lions or starve to death? Thinking the gorilla is wondering in human words “What are you looking at?” when he has no idea who or what ~I~ am, does nothing but arouse unneeded guilt, grief, and remorse in me. 

This cosmic picture is much bigger than I am.

I think this all goes back to the life and death and life-after-death thing. The one-minute-you’re-alive-the-next-minute-you’re-dead thing. I don’t deal well with that topic so I try to think about other things, which leads my wandering mind to think about others trying not to think about it either, including animals.

One reason I shouldn’t dwell on these things is that my mind is so convoluted when it comes to mixing reality and fantasy.

I’m glad I got to see the animals with my grandkids, and hope I instilled a respect and reverence in them for life in general and zoo animals in particular. Sometimes that’s all you can do.

Don’t overthink things. Don’t put your thoughts in someone else’s head.

Even if that head belongs to a giraffe.

 

 

Faerie Paths — Building Blocks

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Don’t let mental blocks control you. Set yourself free. Confront your fear and turn the mental blocks into building blocks.

Dr Roopleen

Faerie Paths — Cactus

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Rita Faes

 

 

I’m an observer of life. I like to watch people, and I like to watch cactus. I like to talk to mountains and communicate with my friends in the other spheres and dimensions.  

~ Frederick Lenz

 

 

 

The Passing of Indian Summer

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I love Indian Summers.

For those who live in a perpetual warm climate year round, an Indian Summer is a  period of unseasonably warm, dry weather that sometimes occurs in autumn in temperate regions of the northern hemisphere during September to November.

It’s a beautiful time.

The days are warm and often sunny, the nights chilly and clear. The air seems to sparkle with highlights that still linger from hot summer days. 

Of course, here in the Midwest, the trees shine in glory with their pageant of the year, turning colors of gold and bronze and red and a warm, soft orange. They remind us that nothing lasts forever … beauty, vitality, all are in a moment’s glory. That as much as we wish it to be otherwise, life turns and twists and goes on.

Today is the madness of the election for the president of the United Sstates. Never in my 67 years have I seen such chaos, hatred, and ignorance from both sides. If there is a true heart that beats for the wellfare of the people, it is well hidden under layers of misunderstanding, frustration, and sensationalism.

Perhaps it is in the folds of warm November days and cold November nights we can find solace, one way or another.

The U.S. Sun wrote an article shares the origin of the phrase “Indian Summer”:

It’s claimed the term was first coined by the Native Americans, and it was used there in the late 18th century. The first reported use of the word was recorded in Letters from an American Farmer in 1778 by American soldier turned farmer J. H. St. John de Crèvecoeur.

“Then a severe frost succeeds which prepares it to receive the voluminous coat of snow which is soon to follow; though it is often preceded by a short interval of smoke and mildness, called the Indian Summer,” he wrote.

 The world has been observing this second warming of the land ever since the pilgrims settled in America; since Europe started building castles, since the Chinese started building dynasties. It may skip a year or two; it may be hot as sin one day and snow the next. 

Nature is wonderful in its beauty and ebb and flow.

The waves of politics will always ebb and flow, too. All we can do is hold on, seize the day, and continue doing what we were brought onto this Earth for.

Continue to live — to live and love and walk with the sun on our faces and the breeze in our hair. To find the good in each other and nurture that feeling so it flows as easily as fall to winter or day to night.

Let the good moments surround you and become a part of you.

Like Indian Summers.

 

Faerie Paths — Travel

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The true traveler never arrives.

~ Edgar Degas

 

 

You will find meaning in life… — Purplerays

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A beautiful thought, beautiful feeling, for the morning …..

 

You will find meaning in life only, if you create it.

It is a poetry to be composed.

It is a song to be sung.

is a dance to be danced.

 

Osho photo credit: Richard Sagredo – unsplash – Text and image source: The birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees https://www.facebook.com/695285933892742/posts/3407209282700380/

You will find meaning in life… — Purplerays

Epiphany amidst the cacophony

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A wonderful repost today from a blogger I’ve followed for quite a while. A reflection of what is going on around us … yet hope for the future.

Archita's avatarPicture this life..

At 6 AM everyday, I see an old man sitting alone in the park, sipping hot coffee from his Peet’s mug. He keeps his mask under his chin, and watches the birds flying above. I try to keep the social distance, tip-toe, and  balance my steps with my foggy glasses and cotton masks. Yet I wonder why he is there, for months, at that time of the day, alone.

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Faerie Paths — Morning Meadows

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When I first open my eyes upon the morning meadows and look out upon the beautiful world, I thank God I am alive.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Faerie Paths — Beauty

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The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes. If you foolishly ignore beauty, you will soon find yourself without it. Your life will be impoverished. But if you invest in beauty, it will remain with you all the days of your life.

― Frank Lloyd Wright

 

 

 

Faerie Paths — Let Go

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Luncheon of the Boating Party, Renoir

 

We must be willing to let go of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. – Joseph Campbell

 

 

Show Me Those Aliens!

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Well, the Day of Invasion of Area 51 is finally over.

Out of the one (or two, depending on which news report you read) million people who threatened to show up and storm our not-so-secret military base in Groom Lake, Nevada, only a mere 100 (or couple dozen or handful, depending on which news report you read) showed up. 

There was reportedly one die hard explorer who ran behind a reporter in the “Naruto run”, a weird run inspired by Naruto Uzumaki, a Japanese manga character who runs with his head down and arms stretched behind him.

There was AlienStock in downtown Las Vegas and, at this posting, an alternative — the original — Alienstock in Rachel, NV. There was no invasion of Area 51, a couple of arrests, and relieved maintenance workers, secretaries, and Air Force generals standing guard inside the compound itself.

All the hoopla because of the search for alien life.

I cannot help but be amused at the explosion of interest about just what’s being hidden at a secured site way out in the desert. It sounded like a blast — people dressed up as aliens, tin foil hats, signs and spaceships and, I’m sure, plenty of alcohol and other “enhancements.”

I can just imagine what would have happened if the visitors DID find a few aliens buried behind the barbed wire.

Personally, I don’t think human beings can comprehend what an alien would really look like. Be like.

Some one — some thing — travels millions of miles just to check us out — what for? Any life that has developed outside our solar system would be based on a totally different cosmic scale. We can only imagine alien life based on our own interpretation of life. Our own carbon-based DNA. Their makeup, their world, their philosophies would be so different to us as to not be understood.

Maybe that’s why some think there are beings being hidden in the depths and darkness of Area 51. 

We are all fascinated by things we don’t understand. Face it. Don’t you love wondering how magicians do what they do? How lightning happens? How every snowflake can be different? How the human body really works?

We all know there are real physical explanations for most everything. That everything magical has its mundane side. We are fascinated by things we can’t see, things we will never see. Ghosts, galaxies, the inside of an atom. It’s just not possible. Not in this lifetime.

But we can dream. We can imagine. We can pretend. And we can believe.

We can wear tin foil hats and demand the government tell us all its secrets. We can dream of aliens visiting us or dinosaurs roaming through our backyards. 

That’s what’s beautiful about being human. That’s the blessing, the gift, of our humanness. To imagine there will always be more to learn. To see. To experience.

And how lucky we are to have a video of dozens of people practicing the Naruto Run just in case they decide to break down the fence at Area 51 and dodge the bullets and machine gun fire and bust down doors and run down ten flights of stairs just to see those aliens.

 

 

 

Do It Today!

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Working till noon today, then off we go to the North woods with the grand kids for a couple of days. Grandpa already has plans for the four of us to camp out in the living room and  play games and eat popcorn and watch dumb movies and stay up past 10:00 pm and sleep on whatever couch we find. There is fishing to do, grilled cheese to make, take the dog fetching in the lake — a full schedule before the parents get there.

It’s great life… One that is moving way too fast for me. I’m trying to take life one day at a time, But as you get older, one day feels like 12 hours, Not 24.

I try not to let that part get to me. But it always does.

I day dream a lot of things when I get away from my responsibilities. My day writing job has not turned out like I thought, some family and friends around me are not doing well, and I feel like it’s only a matter of time before a shoe drops on my head.

I have great plans for once I retire which is only a 112 days away. But you know Sagittarians…  we plan big and carry out average and end up small.

I still have the dream of Paris or Ireland. But that dreams on hold until I get this writing thing together. And as I work on starting a proof reading/editor business, my grand kids are starting soccer. One is 4, the other is 9, so that works out to 2 games every Saturday.

These games bring me back to when my own kids played soccer. Was it really so long ago? 10-15 years ago I sat on the sidelines watching the loves of my life run up-and-down the field. No matter what the weather, we were there. There was really no time to write back  then. Life was too busy being a mom.

But I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.

Now their kids are starting out running across those same fields and no matter what the weather, there I am, sitting on the sideline, watching the loves of my life run up-and-down the field.

There’s not much time for writing these days either.

So what you must do — what we all must do — is take each day as it comes. Period. Plan if you can, laugh if you can’t.

For everything you do can bring you joy.

Get out of your mindset that it has to be this or that that makes your full heart beat. Do what you need to do, find time to do what you love to do, and hope that everything eventually comes out stuck together in one big happy giant ball.

I probably won’t see you till Sunday night in the gallery. But do me a favor.

Do something fun this weekend. Do something magical this weekend. Just reach out and grab that magic that’s right in front of you and make it yours.

Always drive home down A, B, C, D? Try driving home A, B, K, R, D. Take a view of your world you don’t often see. Always look at that same tree driving somewhere? Stop for a minute an take its picture. Write about it. Paint it. Pretend there’s a swing on it. Connect with it. Always eyeball that ice cream stand in the next town? Stop there! Get some ice cream! Big deal!

Do it alone, do it with someone. Put your face in the sunlight or the wind or the rain and just be there. Let go of self repercussions and self hated or frustrations and just go wherever the moment takes you. Forget about housework, looking for a new job, loosing those extra pounds.

Just take the moment and see what you see.

I know I’m going to.

Pillow fight in the living room!

Faerie Paths — Choice

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There are thousands of directions you can go every day —

Why settle for just one?     ~Dream Regret

 

 

A Poem for Today

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Wherever you go
There you are
Early or late
Near or far
It doesn’t pay
To worry ‘bout
Where you are
Or where you’re not
Wherever you go
There you are

 

 

Faerie Paths — Magic

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Magic exists. Who can doubt it, when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars? Anyone who has loved has been touched by magic. It is such a simple and such an extraordinary part of the lives we live.

― Nora Roberts

Do You Suffer From Money Envy?

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Oh, my friends, I am overwhelmed with feelings of envy.

Let me make this perfectly clear — I am very happy where I am. My husband, my grandkids, my own two kids. I couldn’t ask for more.

Yet here I am, asking for more.

I think I watch too many TV shows where there are actors making $20,000 an episode, the CEO of Ceasar’s Palace and the Vice President of Food and Beverage at Ceasar’s judging Hell’s Kitchen finalists, Gosford Park where the really rich do nothing but eat and languish while the servants have a world of their own, restaurants that serve exquisite meals that make unique appetizers at $30 a hit, people who vacation in Hawaii then the Alps then France and barely feel the breeze on their hair.

I am suffering from rich people envy.

I will never be in that world. Point blank. I will never have the money to stay at an exquisite resort in the Rockies or have a beach front apartment in Honolulu or have a cocktail at the top of the Eifel Tower. And in some realms that is okay.

I have taken the slow road through life. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, I have worked all my life in order to have a comfortable place to call home, send my kids to school, pay for their sports and their pizzas and some of their college. I tried starting my own business, which didn’t take off as I thought it would. So backwards the finances went, until I found a job at a catalog distributor.

I will never be able to take off for the weekend to New York City or dine at Guy Savoy’s in Caesar’s Palace. Most of those things don’t matter to most of us. And it doesn’t matter to me most of the time.

But now and then I feel a bit melancholy that I never became a money maker in life. That I never became a vice president or executive director of anything. I never became a famous author or consultant. I never have been able to live in the top third income bracket.

Yet I am okay where I am today.

Maybe it’s because the road in front of me is shorter than the road behind me, and you can’t change your past. I suppose if I were to do my life again I’d change a little bit here or there, but I would still go bowling with friends where I met my husband and driven my kids to school every day just so I could have a conversation with them.

Would you change any part of your life? Just a smidge?

Do you ever suffer from “money envy”?

Sometimes I’m ashamed that I envy the money life. Why be envious of a life you will never have? Your family never had? Would I trade anything I have today for that golden ring?

I think a lot of this insecurity comes because I’m almost old enough to retire, and my past was never on the money path. It’s easy to look back and think I should have done this or that and it would have made a difference.

But that’s not true.

I may not be an executive of a company, but I’ve worked hard and well in all my jobs, traveled to Cancun and Las Vegas with my husband, I go camping and on ski weekends and I’m blessed to have both of my kids in the same state. I may not vacation in the Bahamas but camping in Sturgeon Bay is just as rewarding.

I think we all suffer from money envy from time to time. It’s what we do with that envy that counts. Acknowledge it, thank it, and get on with your life. You can’t change your choices, so embrace the ones you’ve made.

You’ve made them for a reason.

Positive vs Negative Affirmations

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comedyDo you ever get confused with all the positive affirmations floating around the Web?

Life being what it is, do you find it hard to reconcile your own confusing ups and downs with the positive verbiage that  continually pops up on your Facebook and Twitter and in your emails?

Beautiful thoughts build a beautiful soul.

The thankful heart opens our eyes to a multitude of blessings that continually surround us.

Nothing exists except atoms and empty space; everything else is opinion. 

Trust me. No one enjoys (or needs) positive vibes more than me. I like that when the rain clouds come (and there’s no accompanying thunder to rattle my soul) there are positive vibes out there that let me know that tomorrow’s another day.

But positive affirmations don’t help me feel better at the moment when I make mistakes at work or when I can’t get my hair to look more than a flat bathing cap or when I walk in the door and the dog has shred important paperwork.

It’s those times my mind wanders to those “other” affirmations that are more like the beginning of an anger management class.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

You know nothing, Jon Snow.

Eat my road grit, liver lips.

I mean, come on. Didn’t you secretly enjoy Chevy Chase kicking the crap out of the Santa and reindeer in Christmas Vacation? Didn’t you do a little huzzah when Rhett told Scarlet “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” All the wrongs of the day disappeared with one snarky word or movement.

Sometimes I plain like my negativity. Sometimes I enjoy the fantasy of punching out someone who has crossed the line too many times. Sometimes I love standing in the middle of the room and shouting the “F” word five times. We’re not psycho — we just need an instant relief from the stress of whatever. And that moment of fantasy lets the pressure out of our pressure cooker.

The trick is to let those negative flashes happen,  and then let them dissipate, our angst and frustration dissipating with them.

Like Captain Kirk in the Final Frontier.

Damn it, Bones, you’re a doctor. You know that pain and guilt can’t be taken away with a wave of a magic wand. They’re the things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are. If we lose them, we lose ourselves. I don’t want my pain taken away! I need my pain!

I think that’s what life is all about. We are who we are from the highs and lows we’ve experienced. I do believe we need to take negative situations and get positive results from them. I don’t believe in living in the past, for we can’t change what has happened. But we can change where we go with that experience.

As you get older, your well of experiences goes deeper and deeper. You learn to let go of what you can’t change, and to make the world a better place from what you’ve learned. To protect others. To teach others not to make your mistakes. And, if they have made your mistakes, how to correct them quicker.

Life is one big cliche. And there’s nothing wrong with that.  Affirmations make the truth easier to swallow. Winter will bring snow, the sun will shine, and you will smile again.

It’s the circle of life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the circle
The circle of life

Oh geez — now I need a shower from that sugar bath —

Unicorns and 2015

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 9 Comments

Well, here it is, December 29th, 2015. Two more days/evenings until New Years Eve, three more days until we roll on over to a new year.

Soon our favorite bloggers will be writing beautiful prose and poetry about letting go of the old, embracing the new, Father Time, memories, love, sentimentality washing over us until we feel bad about feeling so good about feeling so sentimental.

What I want to do now (seeing as New Year’s Eve I’ll probably be playing Gauntlet (video game) with my kids, I’ll play my Tarot cards now.

Two of Pentacles.  My two grandsons came to live with me/us this Fall, the pentacles of love and childhood. Soon they will be off in their own house, but, I tell you, as much as I adore them, I understand why childbirth and childrearing is left to women under the age of 50.

Queen of Swords. I admit I’ve gotten sucked into Game of Thrones, including the hype and spoilers (after I’ve watched the episode). I raise my sword in salute of poisoning, White Walkers, the God of Many Faces, Sand Snakes, incest, dragons, wights, High Sparrows, and the Wall. A bit of mania wherever you look.

The Hermit. Can’t tell you how many times I just wanted to burrow into my bed and not come out until a week later. I take the role of Drama Queen seriously, you know.

Nine of Wands. This reflects the number of edits on my novel. The wand is the pen/typewriter, and the nine is the number of times I gave up and went to my Art Gallery instead. Next year is the year.

Wheel of Fortune.  Riding the highs and lows of work, I look forward to the days of getting snowed in. Oh darn. Car is stuck in the driveway. Let’s go back inside and write a blog.

Ace of Cups. Got my lack-of-sleep thing under control this year, cut back on some meds, and generally back on the middle-aged road to energy. The Ace of Cups toasts my clean mammogram. Did you get yours??

Two of Dreams. Not a real Tarot card, this card represents the continuation of my two favorite blogs. I love writing, I love unique art, I love magic and I love the shadows between the stars. I love my family, my music, my books, and my followers. And the blogs I follow. And sunrises. And warm summer breezes. And IrishFest in Milwaukee. And cats. and spaghetti. And chocolate.

Wait — that’s more than two dreams.

Hope you are thankful for more than two dreams, too!

 

 

When Is A Holiday Not A Holiday?

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 10 Comments

grandmaI am beginning to see for myself why older people act and think like they know so much. Why their opinions are so die hard. So know-it-all.

I’m getting to be that way, too.

Sometimes the world seems so stupid. I know that’s a demeaning statement; it’s not fair to the rest of the world who is struggling to make it (just like me). But it’s a blowing-off-steam statement as well. For how many useless things and actions thread through our personal tapestry every day that sidetrack us from getting what we really want?

You know I don’t mean the obvious roadblocks — we all deal with them as they come. I mean the events that can (and should) be avoided that are always haunting us.

Being an “older” sprite, I can see the futility of trying to change a person, of wanting to be a vice president with a high school education, of trying to visit the capitols of Europe on a retiree’s budget. I mean, if you could you would. But some things aren’t meant to be. But instead of accepting what you cannot change (that wonderful adage), people spend hours and days and years trying to do just that.

Maybe it’s just that the older I get, the more roads open up before me. There are lots of roads that are closed, buried in rubble or sunk under the sea. But it’s like the roots of a tree — more sprout out every day. And when I see my friends, my acquaintances, my new found peeps, spending all their tears and energy and lifeforce trying to make it “better”, I get ticked off. For I find beautiful flowers trying to push the boulder out of the way instead of growing around it.

Take Thanksgiving and Christmas, for instance. Big, emotional holidays filled with nostalgia, made-up memories, and TV propaganda. People get so wrapped up in “family” and “being together” for the holidays they lose common sense. Their hearts are broken because A had to work or B got the flu and couldn’t fly in. They dwell in the mist of “this may be XYZ‘s last Thanksgiving with us” or “Why can’t Christmas be like when I was a child?”

Don’t they know that every dinner is Thanksgiving? That every day you open your eyes, take a breath of air, and see the sunshine, is Christmas?

Why do we need a particular day to focus our energy on our friends, our family? A particular day to give gifts, to cook a turkey, or to go to church? A has to work? Get over it! Nurses, waitresses, truck drivers, TONS of people have to work on the days you lay back and sing Christmas carols. B‘s got the flu? Better to stay home and get better than bring the germs cross country to incubate in the stuffing.

The same thing is true about remembering birthdays, anniversaries, and other man-created important dates. Maybe I’m biased about remembering these things because my hubby barely remembers those actual dates.  I don’t get flowers or diamonds or fancy dinners on those exact dates. But I’ve got a hubby that’s stuck around for 33 years, and we squeeze in dinners and buy plants in the spring, and it somehow has always worked out.

I don’t judge my life by the rememberance of wedding anniversaries or Christmas presents. I judge it by the times I’ve been able to say “thanks” over a meal, or by the number of sunrises and sunsets we’ve been able to share. I know I’m too old to start a new 9-5 career, but not too old to develop my writing one. I’m too old to play the “if he/she loved me they would ____”  For if he/she really loved you, they would. Period. It could just be that, for some reason, they cannot. And so it is.

I don’t think I’m a hard realist as much as I am an experienced dreamer. I have had dreams shattered, plans never come to fruition, loves lost. As I look through the tunnel backwards, I see how I could have turned a lot of keys sooner. How I wasted years angsting on things I couldn’t change. Things that didn’t matter.

Perhaps that’s what the older generation sees. They wonder why we worry about getting together on the holidays and worry about getting together tomorrow.

And that makes a whole lot more sense to me.

 

Ahhhhhhhhh….

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 4 Comments

baby-flash-games9How quickly we forget — how quickly we remember.

I live in a small town in Wisconsin; a town filled with college students, farmers, business people, teachers — and kids.

Lots of kids.

Last night was a fund raiser at Culvers (Yeah Culvers!) for one of the grade schools. So like a good granny, I trudged along with my kids and grandkids to have a Butter Burger and some cheese curds. Oh — and some overly-sweet custard. As you can imagine, the place was packed with kids. Lots and lots of giggly, loud-talking, visiting-friends-at-other-tables kids. Pity the older couples who picked last night to eat out.

Years ago I would have been quite taken with all the rumpus. BG (before grandkids), the world was quiet. Quiet job. Quiet house. Quiet hobbies. But then life reanimated itself in guise of a grandkid. And it hasn’t been the same since.

Waiting for our food to be delivered by one of several guest gradeschool servers, I just sat and watched the dynamics around me. Mothers in ponytails and sweatshirts, dads in ball caps. Kids sharing food, laughing, talking to siblings and friends at other tables, junior servers walking around and around looking for number 50 or 37, some with trays bigger than they were. I was “introduced” to Hayden (who didn’t have a clue what to say…even to my grandson), and other kids who told me their life story of the day.

Some college kids took the corner table; they were as polite to the little servers as they took their cold burgers and chicken strips. Moms toddled behind those too small to serve alone; we all laughed and smiled and helped out when we could.

It was loud and chaotic and it didn’t bother me a bit.  I realized I’d rather be a part of the madness than stand outside looking in at it. That the point of life is to get involved in circles bigger than my own now and then. And not to care. To go with the flow.

As we get older we tend to spend too much time by ourselves. Now, sometimes that’s good. An evening, a weekend alone, brings peace and quiet and does wonders for the psyche. But isolation as a substitute for personal time, even with a full time job, is dangerous. The more time you spend alone, the more time you want to be alone. The more segregated you get. From society, from friends, from family. You have no one to bounce ideas of off, to complain to, to dream with. No one else to complain to.

And pretty soon you are left with only your own thoughts, your own opinions, which slowly whither into shadows, as you care less and less about what’s going on around you.

Going out to the madness of Culvers wasn’t necessary what my psyche needed after a long, tiring day at work. But going out to eat, watching families do family things and couples do couple things lightened up my spirit. The madness didn’t bother me because I didn’t have to take it home with me. Like a voyeur, I could participate for a little bit, then leave the kindergartners and their siblings behind.

I’m not encouraging you to spend hours in the middle of a group of kids or shoppers or football fans. Find a way to weasel your way into the party, get your chaos fix, then move on. Maybe it’s shopping the day after Thanksgiving. A live concert. A high school or college football game. Even a bowling tournament. Watch the people. Laugh at the people. Be one with the people. Just enough to get your adrenaline going and your reactions moving. Then go home to your quiet abode and feel good about being a part of something bigger than you.

Life is too short not to take part in the madness. For that too shall pass, along with the chance of getting one more song in, one more school play, one more tailgate party.

And nothing is better after spending a few hours with children than going home, sitting in your favorite comfy chair, taking your shoes off, and going, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Silence.”

Another Chance

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 4 Comments

Hot Flashes and Cold FeetAs I’m always saying, the clock ticks eternally forward. While we all notice the seconds, no one feels it as much as one who has already spent a good deal of their life counting.

I’m not going to lie. I want to live forever. I don’t have a strong, religious faith in place, so I have no idea what’s in store once I close my eyes for good. I haven’t left a whole lot behind for posterity, except maybe a refinanced mortgage and a unicorn collection. I’ve made a few people smile with my writing through the years, but standing on the beach or walking through the woods or watching a funny TV show leaves a smile on their lips, too.

And sooner or later my name will blow away in the dust of time, as billions have before me. But I will have had an accomplishment that will keep its mark in me through the Great Barrier and beyond.

I’m a grandmother for the second time.

This time my grandbaby’s entrance was a little shaky. It’s amazing how something that seems so simple on the outside can be so complicated inside. Life is a miracle. There is no doubt. How we get from a spermy and eggy into a president or opera singer I will leave to the biology majors. But so many things can go wrong on the familiar path we all walk that you have to stop and think — and thank — something, someone, else for getting all parties through.

Second grandbaby is a boy, and he and mom are doing just fine now. It brought back memories of one of my past pregnancies — one where the outcome wasn’t so positive. But that was 35 years ago, and this is now, and fate has smiled on our family and friends and brought another soccer player into the family. His older sibling is starting kindergarten tomorrow, so what a better off-to-school treat than a baby brother.

How appropriate his arrival came after my last post about Getting On Track. About sometimes feeling like a loser because I go up to the cabin to write but I often do anything BUT write.  Half way through my retreat the Goddess and Buddha and whomever else had other plans for my idle time. And it wasn’t writing. Nor was it windchimes in the breeze or naps in the afternoon.

It was welcoming another being into the world.

It was being there for mom and dad and CJ and Papa and Nana and Great Grandpa Lyle and Great Grandma Katie as the new baby came wrinkled and breathless into this world.

It was preparing the world for a new chance to get it right. It was dreams of baseball and homework and trick-or-treating with yet another child of the world. Another chance to get it right. To make the world right.

You can’t ask for a better chance for an afterlife than that.

Growing Corn

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 2 Comments

“Granny…one day this corn will be bigger than me.”
“Yes, Bay Bay…one day it will be bigger than you. Bigger than your dad. Bigger than Grandpa.”
“Then what, Granny?”
“We cut it down, feed people and cows and deer and start all over again.”
“Oh. That’s okay. We can come back here again.”

Yes, my little man, we can do this again.

CAM01635

 

Spring? What is That?

~ humoringthegoddess ~ 5 Comments

CAM01111 (1)Dare I whisper — Spring is (almost) here in Wisconsin!

With my luck, a snowstorm of epic proportions will fall on me for saying that, but what-the-hey — I think the medicinal qualities of semi-warm air is worth the test of a last, lone snowstorm.

I’ve been reading blogs and Facebook entries saying that Spring has already popped in some Southern venues. I’ve seen pictures of flowers and birds all around the Net. Well, I can tell mine is coming, too, for it’s Mud City outside my front door.

People in Wisconsin don’t have the same kind of Springs that other people have. Oh, we have flowers peeking up through the ground and birds singing their little hearts out…but we also have grills popping with bratwurst and people shopping in their shorts and sweatshirts.

My grandson and I practiced our first “don’t tell mom” episode over the weekend…he was riding his Hot Wheels down the hill/driveway, trying to make a sharp right turn at the bottom. There was only one tip-over in the mudsnow…he was getting the hang of it. Alas, he couldn’t continue down the straight part and turn left and downhill to splash in the huge puddle in the middle of the driveway, for he couldn’t get enough traction to speed through the mud.

That will come next week.

Why do we do such wild things the first day the sun shines and we don’t have to wear gloves? We wear a sweater instead of a coat, seeing as even though it’s 29 degrees in the morning it will be 48 by the time we get out of work. 48 degrees. That’s Popsicle weather for most folks. We drive with our windows down, turning on the heat only out of necessity. We sing Beach Boys and Bon Jovi songs at the top of our lungs, the cool…er, cold… wind barely tossing our hair. (It is fresh air, you see..) The snow isn’t even melted yet and yet we’re planning barbeques, Fests, and trips to the zoo. We are eating more fruit and veggies, hoping to take a pound or two off before we put on that bathing suit, and cleaning and oiling our lawnmowers — just in case.

I’m sure every area has its quirks when it comes to Springtime. Most of us have woken up in the dark and come home from work in the dark for so long that any ray of sunshine is a ray of hope for humanity. So any ritual to bring Gaia to her feet is welcome.

I think part of it is that we are celebrating another year of life. Another year of being alive. Another chance to make it right. When I drive with the windows open and smell Mother Nature’s scent, I thank Her for allowing me one more year of puddles and flowers, of sunsets and crickets, of bonfires and marshmallows.

So the second you sense Spring in the air, GO FOR IT! Walk out on the porch in your underwear or ride your motorcycle or go buy bulbs and seeds or bring out the barbie and cue something juicy. Embrace the change of seasons — and of life. And just say thanks. Again.

After all, you never know if they’ll have grills and brats in heaven…

He Will Be Missed

~ humoringthegoddess ~ Leave a comment

'Star Trek' PhotocallLeonard Nimoy

1931-2015

His last Tweet:

A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP

 

 

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Live Long and Prosper