Keeping Pace

Posted on by

wpid-20131130_120732.jpg

This is a photo I took while wandering near the boardwalk. These boats are all making an effort to get in to the marina, as their days have come to an end. It was a beautiful day out at sea, finally a bit warmer, even for south Texas.

These three boats in particular had me thinking. The two prodigious ones have such a presence out in the water, truly no fear. The other a cocky little sailboat who’s grin seems to be illuminating against the water. I am pulling for the sleek sailboat on the left. Its choosing to be near the others is symbolic for me. I can relate with its need to keep up. I identify with how straight and strong his mast is standing. The sailboat has a strange confidence about it and there is nothing more captivating than pure confidence.

Like the sailboat, I also need to continue to be straight, strong and confident in order to reach my goals.

I’m pulling for the sailboat. Aren’t you? I hope it kicks the colossal boats’ butts. In the last few minutes of its journey, I want the cocky sailboat to show its speed and push right past them all. Not in mean way, but more of a he couldn’t help it sort of way, the boat is what the boat is, respectfully.

Today, I’m beginning to see myself as this sailboat, the one with more assurance than it knows what to do with.

I feel it in my soul.

Yesterday, I felt like the small yellow kayak on the right, the one just getting past the stronger unknown in the nick of time. Wafting over the water and then using my oars to paddle to more merciful channels.

I’m over paddling away.

Winter’s Gift – Part 3

Posted on by

“Well, honestly? You’re an Angel. You’re sitting here with me right now. I didn’t even know Angels could do that, Necia. Your presence shocks me, your light silences me and your…your, well I don’t know. I mean, since you’ve arrived I’m not the same,” he shared as openly as he could.

Joe noticed the dirt on his dry, cold and chapped hands. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out his goat skin gloves. He put them on, instantly comforted in knowing he had hidden his soiled hands.

“Joe, I didn’t come to you because I had to, I came to you in spite of my calling. Would you want to be defined by what you do for a living? Aren’t you more than that? I know you are, I’ve watched you. It isn’t just what I am, but it’s also who I am, I agree. I’m also, Necia. I’ve come to you as Necia, I didn’t come to you with my badge first. You understand, right?”

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Try, I need to hear that you’ll try.”

“I can’t even look at you, Necia. How do I speak from such an unfamiliar place?” he asked as he focused on their tree.

“There’s time, I have time for your words, Joe.”

“Speaking isn’t what I know well, you see? I can’t say anyone has pushed back at me in such a way. I work, I maintain these grounds. I’m just a caretaker of sorts, this place is all I know. People confuse me, I haven’t taken the time to invest in this world. You must understand that speaking to you, in this way, is asking a lot of me.”

“Joe, you need to try and trust me. Please know that you are safe with me. Remember the first day…?” she offered to him as she followed his gaze to the tree.

He noticed how just looking at the tree softened her face. He wondered how it was even possible, she was made of such untroubled symmetry. The idea of her beauty going one step further seemed divinely generated.

Going back to their first encounter seemed much safer for Joe. He recalled what she had already told him, but there were still parts he couldn’t get past. In her narration of the first moment, she explained to him that she had seen him working. He had been cleaning stones like a father would tend to his child. Those were her words, not his. He was simply doing his job.

It took him back a few steps to learn that she had first seen him in early August, here at the cemetery and after work. He’d discovered a stone, something the ground had nearly over taken. A bush had been hiding the grave marker, but they’d lost the bush in the freeze last winter. It was August before he’d gotten around to digging it up.

The maps to the cemetery were long gone. Joe had memorized the newer graves and their markers long ago, it came easily to him. He’d figured that most of the really old stones were in obvious places, since there was no way of knowing how to locate each one. It had been some time since anyone had needed his services on that side. The space was left unattended to some degree. He did what he could, but he was only one man.

Grave Stone

He was clearing the rubbish away when he saw the corner piece of the stone peeking through the ground. He started pulling at the overgrowth of grass, which surrounded the quarry, and it revealed a stone.

The piece had engravings on it and his interest was sparked. Joe ran to his truck and grabbed his bag. There was a time when all Joe wanted out of life was to be an archeologist, the idea of uncovering lost treasures, bones and identification from long ago thrilled him. It was probably simple of him to get so excited over something so meager in comparison, pathetic really. After work, he often times found himself with his paper and lead. There was nothing better than being lost in a story he’d created, while being cautious of not abrading the limestone slab.

“You saw me at the Davis stone that evening,” he said watching her settle herself on to the tree trunk. “I wasn’t aware I was being watched and especially not by you.” Joe took his left glove off and slapped the side of his leg. He rubbed his hand down his worn out blue jeans. He allowed for a bit of friction between his hand and the jeans, unaware that this nervous tic of his was noticed by Necia.

“It was the first time I’d allowed you to notice me watching you.” she admitted.

“I don’t know what made me look up and over towards the brush. I’d heard a rustle in the leaves. I thought it was a deer looking for food. I was curious, I guess.”

“You were so busy. I enjoyed watching your face, as your thoughts had you transported somewhere else. I wanted to know where you were, and if by chance it was somewhere we could go together.” Necia admitted easily.

He was envious of her calm assurance when speaking to him. He couldn’t make his eyes meet hers. “Necia, you let me look at you. I couldn’t turn away. I worried that the slightest move would make you disappear.” Joe was well aware that she knew he’d be caught off guard, he didn’t need to remind her.

“I waited a few minutes, so you could relax in hopes that you’d remember me when I returned another day.”

“I may never forget that moment, Necia. When I saw you it was like seeing a ghost.” Joe mentioned while watching a feather being caressed by the wind, as it floated to the ground. He fought the urge to grab it, the sudden start and stop of bending down he hoped went unnoticed, as he tried to focus on her.

“I knew the first time would be the hardest to comprehend, so I came to you venerable, Joe.” Necia said as if understanding where his mind was then. She bent down and lightly picked up the feather and placed it into his left hand.

“I appreciate that. Resplendently venerable, I’d say,” he whispered remembering the sight of her wings. He was taken off guard by his hands, they were shaking. Joe looked up quickly just sure that she’d vanished.

(Winter’s Gift Parts One and Two)

Grave Stone (Photo credit: patrick.ward04)

Mental Canvas

Posted on by

Doesn’t a long excursion to the country sound extravagant during the Christmas season? Who has time for that, right? I want one anyway and I aim to get it. I do some of my best thinking on an empty road. Today, I prefer an open road, one without much traffic and very few trees to block my view. I want to see for miles.

Do you ever feel like the city walls are closing in on you? I’m thankful that in the surrounding areas of Houston we have nature reserves, lakes, bayous, and plenty of lifestyle nature parks for a quick retreat. Unfortunately, parks aren’t what I’m looking for this morning.

I recall having a conversation with my Grandma K while driving near Superior, Wisconsin years ago. I was up in the northern part Wisconsin visiting her and the neighboring areas. We had decided to rise early, drive to Lake Superior, then board a ferry all in an effort to experience Madeline Island for the day. I made a mental note to acknowledge how important this time with my grandmother would be and I’d chosen not to let it slip away once my visit was over. Time with our beloved grandparents will slip away from us, we all know it will.

Our wilderness drive was producing a lot of laughter. We’d successfully updated everyone in the car on how life was going and even pulled off at a road side store to purchase cheese curds. Stopping for cheese is a welcomed event. An experience you don’t put off for another time just because you have a scheduled day ahead of you. We were relishing our time together. We’ve never had enough time together.

Stop. Back to the cheese. I can’t focus until we talk for a second about Wisconsin cheese.

Northern Wisconsin is an adventure in of itself, but they also have great cheese. When driving in this part of our country, buy cheese when the cheese curd opportunity beckons you from the side of the road. You pull over and you purchase more than you think you need. You must eat cheese when you see cheese, and you’ll do it happily. Trust me. There is no other way, not if you’re going to pay homage to the cheese respectfully.

Okay, back to Grandma and my need for a lucid drive.

Anyway, we were on the road and I think every story she or I shared had been interpreted. This delay was by me saying something similar or even exactly to, “Just look at the trees, Grandma. They’re everywhere and so beautiful, you must never get tired of looking at them.”

To that she replied with an absolute reaction. “I can’t stand them.”

Yea, that’s Grandma K, she doesn’t mince her words.

She grew up in Wisconsin, raised her family in Kansas, and moved back north when I was a child. She went on to tell me that she didn’t appreciate the tall oaks, cedars and pine trees blocking her view every day, usually all day long. She explained they inhibited her ability to see everything around her. She simplified it by comparing northern Wisconsin to Kansas. She noted that moving to the grasslands of Kansas had been startling, because she could see across the great plains for miles.

What she helped me realize is that none of the topography she encountered in Kansas blocked her mental canvas. Apparently, she preferred a clear view, and now I’m beginning to understand why. The open road of life provides a beautiful picture of this miraculous world we’ve been given. It’s satisfying to get out and experience it.

This story remains in my mind fifteen years later. At the time I remember thinking that she had a point. I can’t tell what’s beyond  the next curve, either. And yeah, it does feel a bit like the trees are closing in on me. Yet, I still found myself lost in the idea of what could happen inside those trees. I still look at groups of trees and create stories. I enjoy being surrounded by them.

What’s really funny about the whole day is that this conversation, out of all the important conversations a granddaughter should remember having with her aging grandmother, is the one that resonates with me. Our discussion still comes to mind when I go for a drive. She nailed it. She and I are similar in this need to fight our way out of the junk, which can smother our view. My mental canvas also needs an open road, if only for a short drive.

Today, our conversation weighs on my mind. Grandma’s right, being able to see the sky from left to right and witness the horizon in front of me, is what I routinely crave, as well. My drive needs to be where I can see this abundance of life that God created. I feel this gravitational pull to remember that there is a bounty of life we miss out on when we don’t get out for a drive . I owe it myself to go looking for an open road. I owe it to my mental canvas.

Great Grandma Elsie

Posted on by

At the end of the day a brown mending basket and sewing kit sit next to the bed,

Buttons to sew and seams to stitch all in a neat pile, please fix this, they said.

When did Grandma Elsie’s patching duties submit themselves to Audrey?

Choosing to blink, now dreaming of ingredients to couple with yeast.

 Yes, its possible, a modern woman working the flour, is it only me?

Will recipes materialize, should be better than the garbage we eat.

Slow progression to Great Grandma Elsie’s bakery, it seems.

I look in the mirror at this red curly, crazy hair.

I can’t help but see her familiar stare.

Who the heck is this person I see,

 When did I

become

Elsie?

Wednesday’s Window: Show and Tell

Posted on by

It pains me to consider what I’d do if my bookshelf went up in flames today.

I find this little show and tell situation a bit daunting. Who could choose just five books? Well, I know I couldn’t, let’s start there. I decided that in order to make this a bit easier on myself, I’d simply choose one from each shelf on my bookcase.

No, I didn’t go and rearrange my favorites in order to save them. I think that limiting myself to a shelf at a time helped to increase the atmosphere. You know it fed into that philosophical way of thinking that we all share:

RULES IS RULES, PAL!

I’m quoting Spanky from the Little Rascals, incase you need a reference. He’s President of the He-Man Wuman Hater’s Club, if you want his credentials before agreeing to my strict guidelines. 😉

1. A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness – I choose this novel based on the way the author writes her men. My heart starts beating faster just thinking of Harkness’ Matthew. This one is an extreme guilty pleasure because it’s about vampires and witches. Two photos come to mind when I think of this book:

944280_690414064309872_187882962_n

603921_711701105514501_1334659147_n

2. The Bible. No other explanation needed if you’ve been reading my blog for any time at all. I relate to Moses. Kindred souls, are we. Well, not the killing, the breaking of the Commandment tablets or 40 day walk, but more like,

Exodus 4:10 Moses said to the Lord, “O Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.” 11 The Lord said to him, ” Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? 12 Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”

Yeah, more like that measure of Moses, the burning bush version.

1452155_710840148933930_835310946_n

3. The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway

Have you ever needed to go so far deep into yourself to find courage that continuing on down the black hole of your soul frightens you? And then were you shocked that you found peace there? You, too? We should talk.

534060_709168652434413_13496229_n

4. Fall of Giants by Ken Follett

I’m choosing this one, because I started it thinking my friend, Wendie, was crazy for recommending a book this size. I didn’t have time to read this beast of a book.  The book was humongous, extremely historical and most of all…bloody fantastic. I never thought this genre would sweep me off my feet, but it has a way of going about it. Sneaky, it is!

1455842_709713925713219_2083097523_n

5. As You Like It by William Shakespeare

*** “All the world’s a stage

And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts …” ***

We must remember to play each of our given roles, am I right? Oh, I think we need coffee for this one. Nothing like a good story about reconciliation and forgiveness, the countryside, forests of France and a chance to read about every aspect of love in one place. What am I doing? I can’t even begin to find the words for how much I enjoy this one.

1012466_700457789972166_1935091483_n

That’s it, I’m done!! Play along or don’t play. It really doesn’t bother me either way. That rhymes… 😉

( I hope there is never a fire, because this little “get to know me game” stressed me out. Hope my books forgive me.)

Tuesday Teachings: Writers Are Affected

Posted on by

*Definition of  – *

sus·cep·ti·ble [suh-sep-tuh-buh l] 

3. capable of being affected emotionally; impressionable.

** So that means **

non·sus·cep·ti·ble [non-suh-sep-tuh-buh l]

3. incapable of being affected emotionally; nonimpressionable.

*** Either way, we’re affected ***

Affected to stay the same or affected to change, I’d say.

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

Writers Are Affected

In spite of everything, remember, when life’s dead-end is staring you in the face:

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.
-Richard Bach

Your moment is coming, in spite of everything…

Nonetheless, if nothing else, please know that you are more than allowed to:

Risk more than others think is safe.
Care more than others think is wise.
Dream more than others think is practical.
Expect more than others think is possible.
-Claude Bissell

You are allowed to be you, if nothing else.

At any rate, frankly, when the easy choice is to walk away:

When you feel like giving up,
remember why you held on for so long in the first place.
-unknown

A Community is here to help you, if you chose to stay, when the easy choice is to walk away.

You teach best (Photo credit: Thalita Carvalho)

Monday’s eMotional Oldest Daugher: December Rituals

Posted on by

When we put our family Christmas tree up we assume our specific tree trimming roles graciously. It amazes me every year. Boy, we are a trained bunch. Whose fault is that? Yeah, probably mine. My husband gets everything out of storage and assembles the tree. Bless him, he even fixes the lights when our tree’s lights get unruly.

Pre-Lit Christmas trees can have some of the most unruly lights. I’d throw the tree through the window, but not my husband. Cool as a cucumber, he’s over there deciding on his plan of attack. He’s the cool blonde type. I’m the temper flaring red head type. It’s obvious that this is the role for him. He’d prefer to handle the lights, as replacing windows isn’t his idea of fun.

With everyone sick over Thanksgiving Break, we had plenty of time on our hands for a slow tree decorating event. Why is everyone always sick during the holidays? Can’t a girl get a break?? Anyway, here’s how our Christmas tree turned out:

wpid-storageextSdCardDCIMCamera20131201_2213580.jpg.jpg

My role is to unpack all the ornaments, because I’m pretty obsessive about how they are to be unpacked. Original packaging is a must, so steady hands on deck only. Let me be honest, I take my job very serious. I look forward to the oohs’ and the awwwws’, as I reminisce over years past. I enjoy looking at how the kids have grown. My face reacts pleasingly as I reveal that the ornaments from my childhood survived another year:

wpid-20131201_211002.jpg

Have I mentioned how much I enjoy card playing? I’m looking forward to a lot of that in a few weeks while visiting Nebraska and Kansas for the Christmas holiday. Our group favorite is Pitch, but if the three sisters have their way we talk Big Brother, or at least one other person, into playing Pinochle. It’s just the best card game ever. The Card Playing Bear ornament was given to me close to 18 years ago. It reminds me of my cut throat card playing family.

I even added part of a snowflake to the picture. Watching snow fall during our visit home this year would be great. Not sure who I turn that request in to… We don’t see snow in this part of Texas. By then, I know my family will be tired of seeing snowflakes, but we’ll expect them to humor our enthusiasm over the white fluffy stuff.

The two children in this family have the job of stringing beads and hanging ornaments. I’m so glad they’re getting better at placement. See how nicely they’re spacing them out this year:

wpid-20131201_211634.jpg

It sure beats the signature move of clumping ornaments on one single branch. All toddlers go this route at some point, although its super cute and picture worthy at the time. Now I’ll only have to go back and fix this tree’s treasures a little bit, or this will be the year I leave the trimmings as is. The verdict is still out.

What’s your opinion? Do you rearrange the placement of the ornaments or do you leave them alone? Every year I say I’m going to leave them, then my husband sees me sneaking in after everyone has gone to bed. I can’t help it. 

Mostly, I look forward to the reason for the season. I look forward to the Christmas tradition of Advent and allowing it to remind me of why I believe what I believe. I love being reminded of how Jesus’ birth brings us hope.

This week I’m going to remember that we have hope:

wpid-20131201_211349.jpg

As I type this, while looking at our tree, I may even have a glimmer of hope that I’ll leave the ornaments alone…hmmm. 🙂

~Oldest Daughter

(I don’t know how to work this camera. I don’t know why the bear photo is so much darker, it is closer, I’ll admit. Anyway, I’ll get better at photo sharing.)

Fiction Friday: Winter’s Gift – Part 2

Posted on by

The first part in this series can be found here. Winter’s Gift: She Rewarded His Anticipation 

*****

Necia reached her hand out to touch the light fluffy snow, the branches around them seemed to cradle the snowflakes as the winter wind blew around. Joe watched her move towards the tree he had found. She gazed at the tip of her finger as a single drop of snow raced down.

It was the longest finger he’d considered holding in ages. He placed another feather in his pocket, he silently zipped the opening as if to trap the treasures inside.

“It’s the perfect tree, Joe.” Necia offered as she turned around to face him.

“I wasn’t sure it would work at first, but after a closer look, I think it’s just as you described. I wanted you to see it first,” he replied while focusing on the pine tree. What he wanted to tell her, was that it was her approval he anticipated. He hadn’t been able to produce the reaction in her that he craved, he wanted to see her mind travel back in time. 

“I didn’t expect this so soon, I have to admit. I figured we had a few more weeks before we’d need this tree. It is the perfect one,” she admitted as her mind trailed off somewhere else. She reached up to touch more snow. “You know, for me, snow has always been the first gift of the season. Beautiful evidence, proving that the Christmas was upon us.”

Snowy pine tree branch

He was beginning to understand that it had been years since she’d seen it. He was suddenly envious of the snow and the emotions it composed inside Necia.

“I’ll take care of it then, if you believe it’s the right one,” he decided. It hadn’t occurred to him that she would agree so easily. Did she realize what the tree meant, more so what it meant that she was using words like we and need? He relaxed a bit in that moment. She had included him on a future event. Finally, as if for the first time, it made him appear as more than just someone merely existing.

Her attention towards him released a desire he’d thought was gone forever.

“Joe? Do you mind if we stay a little longer? Are you too cold to stay?” Necia asked politely.

“We can stay, I…I’ve got my jacket,” he stammered, showing his excitement, probably too quickly.

He watched her gracefully walk over to a fresh tree stump. It was the remainder of the tree he’d chopped down recently. She considered sitting down on it’s rather large trunk , which had fallen close by. He instantly felt regret. He should have finished this particular project the other day. It would have only been another hour’s worth of work, but he was anxious to get started on a side project.

Then again the unfinished work had provided a place for them to be together today. He was suddenly filled with ease over his procrastination. Looking at the trunk reminded him that he should have his axe looked at, mostly sharpened, as winter would only get tougher as the season progressed.

The muscles in his forearms twitched as he considered how he’d remember to get the axe serviced. He didn’t trust his retention with her around.

Joe never tired of watching her. She moved in such a way that he found himself obsessing over her. He welcomed the moments when she wasn’t aware of him. They finally allowed him to show his weakness for her.

“I’m clearing this spot off, if you don’t mind, Joe. I think the wind will break just behind us, if we sit here. We have an unfinished conversation I’d like to visit, if you feel up to it.” Necia proposed. Her hands wiped the icy snow away from the bark of the tree trunk.

Joe witnessed her wings flow with her as she completed the simple task of clearing a spot to sit. He observed her intently. How come she never seemed too cold or concerned for herself? It was shivery out here, but she wasn’t human, he reminded himself so rationalizing seemed like a lost cause. They had no history, yet he had a desire to shield her from the wintery conditions.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wanted these unspoiled moments to continue, the feelings to stay. Necia had caught him off guard when she emerged last week, and he vowed to take advantage of what today could bring, if she came.

Joe exhaled, she had come.

Their first encounter suffered from awkwardness, as he was lost in such disbelief over Necia. He’ll never forget how she emerged through the trees. On foot, her wings spread out, each white feather just shorter than the other as they cascaded down her back, she appeared.

Snowy pine trees frame a view of blue shadows

Her feet lightly moving her along, while she made her way towards the area of the old cemetery he’d been working in. She stopped a safe distance from him and offered a shy smile.

Without eye contact, he took in as much of her in as he could without revealing the longing he’d instantly felt. She looked as though she’d caught who she was searching for, she seemed relieved.

He found himself transfixed on her glow as his voice fell through to his stomach. In that moment, Necia had taken his words right from him. She petrified him.

“Joe?” she nudged.

He flinched, instantly placing his hand on his pocket of feathers. His cheeks reacted quickly to hearing his name,”Yes, Necia, this will work fine. I’m sorry, I was thinking about, well you and our first meeting.”

“Yes, and what were you thinking about?” she challenged.

There she went again, his natural inclinations couldn’t handle the moments when she spoke so directly to him. He found himself working on finding a way to breathe. His mind was reeling over who she was and why she was here. Why did she move him so?

Who desires someone like her? It just didn’t add up right, in his mind. He fought his feelings, yet his body seemed to override his knowledge of Angels, and the job they dutifully held.

(Photo Credit: Pine Tree: Mike Rohde &  Photo Credit: Happy Sleepy)

Siblings

Posted on by

Time spent with family is a priceless gift. Enjoy the laughter, make memories and remember those you can’t be with today. I plan on calling my siblings this morning, so I can remind them of how adored they truly are by their Redheaded Sister. I don’t know who I’d be without them.

Blessings to you, my friends. I am a better person because of this blog of mine. The two voices, which never get heard, are singing loudly every day and shine through each post. Thank you for reading and for being a friend. Happy Thanksgiving!!

Siblings

Home

Miss home,

acquainted voices,

familiar contact,

identical laughter.

You

Miss you,

stories unheard,

parallel memories,

similar existence.

It’s Going To Be One Of Those Weeks, Huh?

Posted on by

This week while everyone is packing for trips back home, warming their kitchens in anticipation of Thanksgiving and planning their Black Friday shopping, I’ll be doing plenty of this, writing. A whole week off allows for me to catch up here, to read and relax with family and friends, who I’ve missed while trying to blog, teach, raise a family and eat.

All of these events I look forward to, but they won’t fully satisfy me this week.

I’ll be missing Big Brother, Middle Sister and Baby Sister too much to feel completely content. Unfortunately, this means everyone in our home will suffer greatly. We’ll be listening to a lot of very sad music and possibly be seen in our pajamas too much by the neighbors, but again, it’s an entire week off from school, so we’re entitled.

I laugh, but it’s true.

I look forward to Thursday, and all the cooking we’ll do as a family. We’ve never stayed home for Thanksgiving. I’ve never made a turkey, so this ought to be an experience, one I may never live down, but we charge forward anyway. I mean, Carpe diem, right? I’ll make everything that Grandma Maxine used to have on her table, all but the oyster stuffing. I can’t say we’ll have anyone making requests to have this at our table.

We’ll give thanks, enjoy each other’s company and relax while we call home to see about the family.

I may even throw in a few terribly clichéd family movies such as Smokey and the Bandit, The Man From Snowy River, Weird Science, Overboard or Six Pack. I have clearly carved these movies out in my mind as family movies, because Big Brother always had control of the television or VCR.

Imagine three sisters being forced to endure these movies. Yeah, seemed a bit brutal back in the day, but now I stop to watch them. It seems they provide a nice little day-dream about being with my siblings during the holidays.

When everyone goes to bed, I may then watch movies that remind me of my sisters. First up, I’ll watch Finding Neverland, which is about my favorite playwright J.M. Barrie. This movie will remind me of how much fun we had playing as children. Not near as much fun as the children on the screen, but we enjoyed each other’s company. Imagine as a child having an influence like J.M. Barrie. Yes, go on, imagine it.

What a delight it would have been, huh?

I’ll move on to girly movies like When a Man Loves a Woman, Dirty Dancing, Sixteen Candles, and Mermaids. I’ll save Mermaids for last, because I’ll need to make sure everyone is fully asleep before I cry my eyes out. This one, is truly only meant to be watched with Middle and Baby on either side of me on the couch.

Since we’re not together this year, I’ll go it alone.

After I watch a few brother driven family favorites and cry through a few lonely sister movies, I’ll find myself needing to eat something. By something, I mean everything I can find, which is what one does when feeding emotions. Of course, I’ll eat food that reminds me of home. Mostly it’ll be comfort food and then a side of beef, because you don’t come from Middle America and eat fish when missing family, you just don’t.

I’ll make sure I’ve stocked the pantry with chocolate, everything I need to bake my famous chocolate chip cookies, salads with pudding as a main ingredient, pasta with lots of cheese, chips and dip, and a small appearance by Little Debbie’s snacks.

So yeah, it should be fun and you should definitely stick around this week and see how it plays out. It may turn into an on-screen love affair with J.M. Barrie. It could be that my two children will created havoc about the house, like the children in the movie Overboard.

Oh, and I wouldn’t count out the possibility of a dramatic finish: my death by Little Debbie, often a coin flip when I’m not with my siblings for the holidays. I giggle at the thought, yet look forward to my week.

Fiction Friday: Winter’s Gift: She Rewarded His Anticipation

Posted on by

Joe walked up behind her, bending down fluently to pick up yet another feather that had fallen from her wings. It was like finding a penny on the street as a boy. His left hand was filling up rapidly. He noticed how pristine the feathers were and how hard it was to know where they came from as he took in the beauty of her back.

He let out a sigh of relief, yet he couldn’t make eye contact. Slowly the air left his lungs. There was a time when he could slow his own heart rate down, her standing so close to him right now didn’t allow for him to accomplish it.

One of her finest qualities was her ability to be seemingly perfect and pure, yet she was here with him. She had agreed to meet him.

nunhead cemetary

McCollin’s cemetery was a lonely place, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone needed to drive this far down the quiet road. In spite of that, this place was still his to care for daily. Tending to the souls who found rest here, his only job.

It was his assumption that getting her here would be the hard part. Angels didn’t take meetings with regular guys who had dirt under their nails. Men who could use a shave. Or so he’d thought. She was beautiful, rightly perfect and by far the best listener he’d found out here.

“Will you walk towards that tree with me?”  he asked noticing a feather float side to side all the way down to his boot. Swiftly he was down and back up without notice. Was it normal for her to lose those soft whispers? Did she know he’d kept them all?

“Yes, you know I will.” she admitted almost soundlessly.

Shocked, still he recovered with little effort, did she know she had all the control? He wanted to show her the place he’d found today, he stuffed her feathers inside his coat pocket. He made a wish for them be there later when he was alone. His proof that she existed.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Joe admitted refusing to walk behind her. He found comfort walking just ahead of her scanning the area for anything that could harm her.

“I’ve always come to you. Have I never?” She replied as she pushed back.

It was a sight to see her walk across the grounds, she proceeded slowly. Seconds had past, yet they were already looking at the perfect tree in front of them. It startled Joe at how quickly they walked together. The pine tree had been covered by this morning’s snow. In spite of the snow, he was sure she’d still understand what drew him to this place.

“What do you think?” Joe asked after choosing to glance just over the top of her head, purposely avoiding her eyes. He just allowed his left hand to lay silently in his jacket pocket, surrounding itself with pieces of her. “Do you think we could use this one?” he whispered quietly towards her, waiting to hear if the tree provided the same feelings in her, as it had for him.

A Moment’s Desire

Posted on by

I’ve been working on another moment in my short story, She Waits With Music. This poem came to me last night. 

My Muse

Ask with eyes casted down, will you give?

Reveal my slow hands, do you receive?

Feel every heart beat, can you handle it?

Fall as any woman would, do you accept?

Lost in your eyes, as blue as the sky.

A classic story; I’ll be yours, you’ll be mine.

Minds crescendoing; another night’s dream.

I’m a Shoulder Raiser, But I Make It Look Cute

Posted on by

I wasn’t going to do it. Then I decided I was. I decided again that I wasn’t. But then I decided I was…in the end, I didn’t.

Have you ever had one of these days? I’m having one. I admit that I am notorious for being a terrible decision maker. I may even have a bumper sticker that says so. I don’t have one, but I suppose I should. I’ve been wrestling with why I’m a constant shoulder raiser and shrugger. Admit it, you just raised your shoulder a bit and then dropped it while thinking, “I don’t care…” I’ve not come up with any hardcore reasons of explanation for my inability to make a decision, but these three could be part of the problem.

I could say that it’s because I was raised with three siblings who always had an opinion on what to do for fun, just ask them, they’ll agree. Yes, possibly, it’s in my personality to be a bit of a pushover. At some point, don’t we grow out of requiring ourselves to be polite and agreeable towards going with the flow? I can’t say for sure this is the reason why. The only other explanation I have is that I truly enjoy living life through other people’s eyes. I’m game for just about anything, as long as it’s reasonable.

Growing up with siblings taught me a variety of lessons. I’ve already given you a small look into our roles with my post on birth order and how it seemingly shaped our relationships. Many of us, who were raised in a family with siblings, can relate to the concept of taking turns during childhood. We’ve all been pulled along for a sibling’s big event. We’ve sat through their wish list opportunities over and over again. We learned how to rationalize why often times their need turned out to be a bit more important than our need or wish on any given day. Taking turns is what we do to survive growing up. It still isn’t without its struggles.

I understand that as children we didn’t quietly hand over the baton. I have the battle wounds to prove it. Let me just get real with you for a second, long finger nails do serious damage to arms. Ouch. So I’m not saying we were good at it in the beginning, but in the end we got it figured out and learned to enjoy each others accomplishments. As a result, we often times prefered each other’s company and enjoyed the randomness of our events, because we were also friends. It was easy to allow for their ideas to be the best idea. I relied on it often, it was easier on me.

Yeah, I’m also a pushover, yet I prefer you call me a pleaser, and it gets me into trouble. I’ll never forget the year I agreed to be my son’s first grade room parent. The yes’, the sures and the I’d love toos are in major abundance when you take on a job like that. I had no idea what I’d agreed to do or that a year’s salary would go towards keeping that classroom afloat. Wow, now that’s some going with the flow you can’t prepare yourself for, no matter how you slice it. There are way more qualified people for that job and they want it, so I gladly hand that over and take on the role as the doer. You live and you learn, my friends.

I like being a little worker bee, just give me the job and I’ll do it. I’ll do it quickly and correctly. I’ll do it that way because I have my own agenda and would like to get back to it. Yes, I’m a bit selfish, too. I’m happy to help, but I like what I like when I like it, so don’t push it too far.

What’s wrong with going with the flow? I like making people happy. To me, it seems natural to devote time to their event and watch the faces of those I love enjoy life. Recently, I was asked to help make a decision on where to have dinner. It seems easy enough and you get to offer up an idea that will make you super happy. Should be a no brainer, right? Don’t ask me that one. Especially if you also don’t make decisions well, we’ll be on that merry-go-round for a long time and the bottle of wine we drink while deciding, will keep us from going anywhere. We’ll have to order in. Be my guest, decide where we’re going. I’ll give you my opinion and if I’ve been there recently, I’ll let you know, but I’ll still go with you.

Yeah, I know, lay down on the couch, Aud.

When I have a great idea we’ll get to it, I have faith we will, so no hurry.  I’m much easier to entertain than some folks, but what I do have an opinion on rarely gets modified. I dig my heals in. Shrugging my shoulder seems, simply enough, like an allowance of the opportunity to enjoy, so take me up on it. What I really want to do, I’m usually doing already, so the joke could be on the other person. It’s their time and attention I was craving, so I already got what I wanted.

This spoken by a true sister.

Rude! You, Madam Are Rude!

Posted on by

I was subjected to two events this month which left me annoyed. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them. The first of the annoying crimes was at a book signing, yes I blame myself, it was my choice to attend. The second, was at a day conference on National Educator’s Day at the Houston Zoo, yes again I agreed to go, but it was work related, so I didn’t really have a choice.

Both events had one person in attendance that caused a ruckus. Done so rudely that it made this red head want to turn around and smack’em. Yes, that’s what I said. Can I explain why? Strangely enough the same sort of offense was acted upon at each event, and it happens to be one of my biggest pet peeves. Shall we go back to the crimes, so you can live their offense through my eyes?

During the question and answer portion of the recent book signing I attended, a woman clear in the back, where it was all shadowy and dark, had her daughter ask a question. For the record, I do not blame the child for the offense you are about read. And as a side note, she should come live with me because the mother will ruin her daughter if this type of travesty continues. (Okay, well I may be overreacting a bit.)

The daughter was dressed super cute. Her hair was combed well. She wore clean and pressed clothing, which were used to help disguise the little darling. Worst of all the young woman had a sweet smile, so it was easy to call on her and ask her to share her adorable question.

The poor author, she just wanted to talk about her book. No one wants to handle an under age heckler.

This is the question I heard from fifteen rows behind me: “My mom says that on page 187 (or whatever page it was) you used “to” instead of “too”. It is obviously incorrect. Why did you do that?”

Oh mercy, the nerve of some people. To use a child to further your personal ridiculousness is so offensive to me. Come now!

The author then had to spend time, what precious time she had to talk about her book, to explain copy editors. For crying out loud, do you know how many questions we missed because of this mother’s question? (One, possibly two, but that’s not the point.) The need this parent had to look smarter than the author, or possibly slap it to her, makes me wonder. I just shake my head.

Do you think I’m right? Should she have asked that question, what was her motive, or just politely over look the mistake?

Moving on!

National Educator’s Day was the perfect date to sign up for continued hours of education. It just so happens that the Houston Zoo had a well thought out conference for teachers to attend. It offered a chance to learn new science facts, a bit of freshening up on the subject, a wide look into the relationship between trainer and animal, and how it translates into the classroom. I was happy to learn at the Houston Zoo with fellow teachers. We looked forward to quick crafty ideas for our younger children, science ideas and an overall experience that would create teachable moments back in the classroom. It’s what we all signed up for, all but one of us, that is.

Our day began at 9:30am with an early morning show by the sea lions. It was an opportunity to witness the relationship between trainer and animal. An easy translation to the student teacher relationship and the care needed for the child to benefit, yet remain who they truly are inside. Teachers invest time learning how each child operates. We want to know what it is that gets them excited, so we can best teach and serve them. Educated, even dedicated, zoo trainers also have an obligation to love and learn from the animals they’ve spent their entire lives studying.

Teachers and trainers want to enhance the God given talents of those we are trusted with on a daily basis. It was interesting to see that some animals have a trust level, as well. Yeah, I got it. A sea lion is a child and our children are sea lions. Pretty simple concept, I could relate and it was going to be a great day.

English: A sea lion at the Houston Zoo

A sea lion at the Houston Zoo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It was a day full of science. We all took information away that was useful in the classroom. Pure, simple and a fun way to further reach the children we educate daily. The Houston Zoo did a fantastic job. My last session of the day was a full on question and answer series with the Director of Trainers and Education and his top Sea Lion Trainer, yep we were about to wrap it all up into a pretty little bow.

A quick look inside the life of a trainer, a glimpse into why they chose to hold numerous degrees in this field of work, and why they love what they do for these animals.  That’s all it was, just a chance to learn a bit and have a laugh about how easily I could take my teaching experiences and become a sea lion trainer.

Ha. Children and sea lions, they really are very similar beings.

The questions were flowing and the trainer held our attention well. He was dressed as if he’d just come off safari. Yes, let us take a moment to relish how that looked…okay, done? A minute more then? Sure. Yeah, he was easy on the eyes and a bit of a flirt with the crowd. The sea lions were not fools, they’d do anything for their favorite fish. It appears teachers will do just about anything for a bright smile and a bit of enthusiasm, but I digress.

Let me speed this up a bit for you. He explained to us how he gained the trust of the sea lion to better care for them and learn more about what they need, but also to showcase what they’re capable of doing effortlessly, once trust has been established.

Then the crazy lady raised her hand. Again I had sat myself front and center, because if I don’t I become a teachers worst nightmare. I become the class clown and find myself jockeying for the attention of the guy on the stage. I can’t help who I am.

Anyway, if I had been behind this lady I could have warned the trainer that her mannerisms were tainted at best. Her question had something to do with whether or not zoos should exist, mostly if the animals deserved to live in the zoo’s unnatural environment. After she asked her question, I turned around and looked at her. Her face wore shades of red and the scowl she had permanently tattooed to her face wasn’t friendly at all. She had an agenda. She wanted to debate, she wanted to call him out and possibly throw red paint all over him, but this was just my take on it. She had a series of questions planned to just slowly bait him. I saw it coming. I couldn’t stop it, I was only one person.

The red head in me started making a move with my right hand, I was about to get up and defend. I had to hold my breath and force myself to turn back around. This was not the time nor the place. I wanted to tell her that the platform for this type of questioning was one for another day or possibly out those doors over there and down the street.

The poor trainer probably gets accosted multiple times a day with questions about whether or not zoos are the best environment for wild animals. He was adorable, just trying to make a living by doing what his boss asks of him (this question and answer pony show), and in the process figure out how to work in his agenda to save these animals. He handled it well and he encouraged her to come to him at the end for a discussion. It was his body language during this volley back and forth that I watched, it obviously made him uncomfortable, I sensed that it made him uncomfortable because he also viewed it as out of order.

He offered her the chance to come down afterwards so they could have a discussion on whether or not zoos were evil. I think, it was a fair offer. Her attacking him during class, not fair. I have no doubt that the conversation would have been interesting. Smart points given for either side. This event was not created for that discussion and she knew it.

It annoyed me.

She was rude.

I don’t like rude.

Do you want to know if she came down at the end of class? What do you think?

Of course she didn’t!

No, the spotlight was off of her and she slithered out of class. The woman wasn’t truly interested in the debate, she just wanted to stir it up.

To both of them I say, “Rude! You, Madam are rude!”

Audrey Dawn, Stop Seeing The Good In Everyone!

Posted on by

Okay, so am I the only one who’s forgotten that people watch and listen to what we say? I totally forgot. And they do! They really, really, really do! The people we live life with pay close attention. They’re even mindful of who we are and how we conduct ourselves. It’s a scary thought. It’s always good to find out that I’m being listened to and that friends are paying attention to what I have to say. I appreciate their thoughtfulness. Recently my simple words of encouragement got me singled out. I got a verbal hand slap. I was shocked! I was just conversing with the people around me when I was called out for routinely standing up for others.

It wasn’t gossip.

I refuse to call it that because I was being positive.

Apparently, I see the good in everyone. It’s a news flash people, sit up and take notice.

It was brought to my attention the other day. I’m still trying to make sense of it all. It seems that I come off as being a bit too positive and rational. This tragedy has allowed others to see the goodness inside the human beings we share life with daily.

Tisk tisk tisk!

Then to further perpetuate the situation,  I also have the audacity to then share everyone’s best qualities, unknowingly, to others when names come up. I guess the instigator sees me as entirely too positive.

Who do I think I am? Gesh, the nerve of myself.

I know, I’m sorry.

No, I’m not.

I just don’t see any other way. I’ve known a few Debbie Downers in my lifetime and I love’em. I tend to take them on as projects to some degree. I try to help them see the goodness that life has to offer and not the yuck of it all. I’ve listened to their ho hums and it makes me sad to hear that they aren’t enjoying much. It affects me and I want them to change. Life’s too short.

I wanna shout, “Grab the horns people, let’s go! We’ve got stuff to do and simply no time to do it in.”

I’m a positive person. I like to see the goodness in everyone else, shoot me right where I stand.

The woman who called me out on it is also an extremely positive person. Quiet frankly, I see her as the Positive Polly way more often than I see myself. I mean honestly, we both tend to wear those pretty Positive Polly pants as often as possible. So when she called me out I was shocked, yet then kinda proud of myself, cause I know what scurries around my brian most days.

I also see the annoying things that people do, the nutty way they live their lives and the choices that they make, but I can’t dwell on it. I have plenty of my own bad choices, so I refuse to start picking up sticks and poking eyes.

Does being so positive leave me vulnerable towards falling for anything? I suppose it does, but I’d like to think I see through muck. I was born with a keen ability for being able to shuffle through the B.S. My parents did not raise a fool. I’m happy to see the good in everyone and to pass your goodness on to others, but don’t be fooled. I am well aware of the shenanigans of others. I do my best not to judge.

It’s a daily reminder for me not to judge anyone. I’ve been on the other side of judgement and it hurts. I’ve taken what I’ve learned over the years and tried to make an effort to see commendable aspects of the people around me. I try to amplify their positive traits in hopes that they will hear of it. My hope is that they’ll then try harder to be the person I know they truly are. I suppose in the end I do wear pretty Positive Polly pants a lot, it could be worse.