Siblings

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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.

The Woods

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SAMSUNG

Tall trees; surround me.

Mossy vines, branches connect; a canopy.

Shepherd him; obsessively.

Beams of light, born of the sky.

Blankets of leaves, kept dry.

Chaperoning a character; offering a cloak.

Red, brown and black; colors connect.

I walk; my short story I try to protect; mind a wreck.

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

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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

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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

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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

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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!

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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!

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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.

Yesterday’s Regrets

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Today, while focusing on my class during recess, I noticed a woman walking towards the church. I immediately observed that as she walked, she also alternately carried or rolled a suitcase behind her. It was folded up flat and it blew around with the wind as she fought with it. The suitcase held a flowery print and it was black in color, it seemed that the two wheels attached to the bag were in good working order. The bag was empty. She had a bit of a messy walk about her. I have no idea whether it was due to her age or if a substance was controlling how she managed herself, but either way her walk caught my eye.

English: Schopfheim: Catholic Church Deutsch: ...

I can’t recall the colors that would reveal how she was dressed or if her shoes seemed decent for the cool 40 degree weather we were experiencing. The aging woman didn’t have a coat on her thin body. She wore long pants and sleeves, this I cataloged in my mind.

It takes a while to walk to the back doors of the church from the rear parking lot. It was a long distance for someone who appeared to have walked her way into the area. There was no need for me or the children to feel threatened. I gave a quick thankful prayer that the food bank was inside and available to fill so many needs. I watched her clear the weed infested crumbling curb without much trouble. She walked the cold sidewalk and entered the double doors like she’d visited the church previously. She walked inside.

I can only assume she was probably feeling relief as the warm air healed her cold hands. I didn’t think of her again. She was out of my sight. I turned my attention back to the children. I found comfort knowing she would be taken care of shortly after finding the correct office.

A few minutes went by, probably fifteen, it would have been less if she would’ve had the ability to walk in a quicker fashion. When she reappeared, faster than I had expected, I was instantly reminded of the hour. I watched her walk away from the heavy church doors. Her head hung down and her bag was no longer being carried by her arms. It was rolling behind her now, bouncing back and forth, from one wheel to the other like an empty trailer being pulled by a truck going way too quickly down a highway. She wasn’t going swiftly, but it was obvious that her temperament had changed. It occurred to me quite readily that she hadn’t gotten what she had walked so far to receive.

The reason her bag was still empty was obvious, and it hit me hard. My heart hurt instantly and still does. She had missed the opportunity to fill her bag due to the time of day. The hours had expired, as well as any chance of finding someone who had the authority to get to where the food was kept. I wanted to run out to her, and ask her if my assumptions were true.

Excuse me, Ma’am? By chance, were you in search of food to fill your bag?

Yes. I will have to try again another day.

No, we’ll go. We’ll fill it together. Just let me get my class. Run quickly little darlings, we’ll just be gone a minute. Let’s go down to the corner, no one will miss us if we just hurry.

No Ma’am, they aren’t all mine. I just tend to them a few hours a day.

Now, do you need three cans of this, how about four of that? We’ll get them all and you can decide how to prepare them. Yes, all of them and I’m very sure.

No, let me handle that.

I enjoyed our ride, too. I must hurry back…

Then, as the children played happily, I realized I was still on the playground, nothing had changed and she was gone. I have no idea if she turned left or right. I’d lost her.

From that moment on, I feared that I should have made the effort to run after her.

I unknowingly had played the moment out in my mind. I watched myself grab her hands as I walked her to my vehicle. I saw myself driving her to the store on the corner. I visioned us walking the isles. I grabbed everything in my immediate space, while dropping items into our cart I encouraged her to get everything she needed. I saw myself checking her out and putting the food inside her bag. I saw myself then driving back to the church and dropping her off right where she had first caught my eye.

I saw her walking away with both wheels on the ground. I saw that the bag weighing her down and settling her path. I watched her walk steadily away. I can’t tell you what her face looks like. I may never forget her walk.

My mind is on rewind. I picture her bag constantly. The knots in my stomach send me to my knees. Who was she, did she have children to feed? A husband too old to walk with her, was he home hungry? What was running through her mind as she walked back the way she came? 

I keep replaying this moment today.

Had I grabbed the children and ran after this woman would I be in jail tonight? I assume it was the only fear that I had. It kept me from jumping the fence and pushing a stranger and gaggle of children into my car, as I cried out that we were headed on some sort of field trip.

I find myself no longer being able to sit with myself. I fight the urge to walk the dark streets of a neighborhood, one I know nothing about, in an effort to find her. It seems the only way to forgive myself for not acting out today. In essence, to right my wrong.

That blasted empty bag and crooked walk needed me. I came home and cooked. I stuffed my family full. Portions out of control, it occurred to me that I was trying to find a way to fix how I still felt. What am I to do?

Thankful

 I’d rather remain in bed, 

I’m thankful You raise me.

I’m shouting frustrations,

I’m thankful You calm me.

I’m lost and wandering about,

I’m thankful You’re with me.

I’m weak as tears roll down my face,

I’m thankful You see through me.

I’m not who You created me to be,

 I’m thankful You stand beside me.

I’m feeling emptiness in my heart,

I’m thankful You work to find me.

I’m content with evilness inside me,

I’m thankful Your grace reminds me.

I have doubts I am who You say I am,

I’m thankful You made me.

I don’t know,

I’m thankful You do.