Oh, Yeah!

I saw you first
Yeah, you were there
All powerful
Demanding
Amongst the rest of your crew
Looking all cool and fascinating
Yes, you!
I felt nothing but intrigue
You were all my eyes could see

I approached you hesitantly
You would be a lot for me
Just look at your surroundings
Yet, our eyes locked
Yours shining
Mine craving
Suddenly I felt free
Heart quickening
Soul waking up
Life as we knew it – over
The submitting would take two

I asked for a moment from you
An agreement was made
We’d go for a quick ride outside
Sliding in took little effort
I’d waited a long time
Wondering how fast you’d take me
A shy girl with a thrill for a fast ride
One push from me
Fire created suddenly

With permission granted
You carefully took me
All those places I’d been craving
I’m not surprised
You knew what you were doing
Owning me by the first curve
My release finally coming
After admitting
I could easily dominate you

I sit here now satisfied
You with that stupid grin
I can’t wait to show you off
Dodge Charger
You couldn’t be hotter
You and your new car smell
My tomorrow’s Show And Tell

I love my new car!!

Thank You

I imagine
A tree
Strong
Growing
Nurished
Inside out
Green
Blossoming
Yet, bark, like skin
Scarred and rough
This tree
Just like you and me
Fed by the Father
Son
Holy Spirit
All uniquely
United to form One
Thank you, God
For bringing me
Courage
To be all I dreamed
Honesty
To allow sleep
Determination
To grow hearts
I Thank You
For all the transgressions
You forgave
Renewing the flesh
Which causes such pain
So one day
We’ll all live with You again

Tell Him Everything

Stop
Be quiet
Do you see him
Over there
I wish you could
Reaffirm he was my sleeper
Please
Relieve my fear
Proof that he existed
My only concern
When you find him
Tell him everything

He is
Tall
Mighty
Strong
Every breath of his
A word of beauty
Trust me
You’ll want a piece
A piece of whatever
He’s serving
Try to catch him
But when you do
Remember
Tell him everything

When he’s with me
I am complete desire
Back then
Twas all new for me
Thrilling
Yet, I haven’t seen him
Not in a while
When I wanted
All I had to do
Was wave my feather
His hands would come
Willing and ready
Dominant
Masterful
Teacher
Helping me
Create poetry
My advice, my friend
Tell him everything

He’d love you
Smart
Pretty
Lifelike
Confident beacon of light
You’d love him
Calm
Cool
Collected
A beautiful distraction
Exciting news
He may be searching for you
Look around quick
Spy his wit
Let him in
Tell him everything

Take the ride I denied
Please him
Let loose of your control
Give him your eyes
Undoubtedly
Tell him everything
Just do it slow
Enjoy the ride
Allow conversation to flow
Words of love and devotion
Pleased him ever so
Made me afraid
And now it’s too late
Gone
For me
No chance
Of telling him everything

He’s gone on searching
For his one true love
You must go find him
Whoever you are
He’s waiting
Just one thing
For me
A promise, please
It’ll stop my aching
Tell him
Give him
Allow him
Everything

A Story From The Truck Diaries

You have to know that the three sisters, Oldest, Baby and Middle, love Big Brother’s truck. It doesn’t matter which truck he has at the time, whether he’s found one that’s bright red or brown. We adore the significance behind them. They are the epitome of Big Brother and many, if not most, of our memories include him with one.

Can we back track a second? I feel like I should explain something.

Is it important? You’ve updated us on a few things along this path that haven’t been relevant, if we’re being honest.

I actually do find this important, because it explains why…just listen.  Continue reading

Not Another Award Post! No! But, It’s Me: Audrey

Okay, its award time. Trust me, this has been a long time coming. I am way behind in thanking everyone for encouraging me. I have to say that I was surprised at the amount of friends I have to thank. Some of you shocked me. I didn’t even know you were reading my posts. For the record, I have a special place in my heart for you quiet readers. I happen to be one on occasion.

This is a long post. I’ve tried to speed it up as best I can without taking away from the bloggers who truly need a push and the recognition. Please forgive my writing errors today. I’m not going to say I didn’t spell check, because it may be the only thoughtful correcting I did for you.

We’ve got to get to this quick, as you all know how much work goes in to posting and pasting all of this important information. I want to make sure I get it correct for all of us. Just please know I am thrilled to have my badges on the side of my blog and am thankful for such a supportive group of followers. Okay, this is going to be fun, I promise.
Continue reading

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

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!

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!”

Yesterday’s Regrets

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.

 

I’ve Got To Empty My Brain

Well I’ve gone and done it again, folks. I’ve put myself right smack dab in the middle of poetry writing pandemonium. I went forward with a decision I now see was made in haste, yet I feel compelled to let it ride at this point.

In a weak moment the other night I decided to go for it. I became part of a critique group. I’ll be sharing my poetry, some so raw you won’t see it here, but I feel a need for feedback. (Let me know if you’re interested.)

Well well well, feeling brave are we? You could say that or you could chalk it up to seriously bad judgement. I fear it’s a bit premature.

Can I be perfectly honest? This stuff is fighting to come out.

If you’re feeling the urge to make a run for it, I would. I’d do it now. Things could get a little scary around here for a while. There will still be a lot of other writing going on, but I’ve given you fair warning that there may be more poetry. Mostly, because I can’t make it stop.

I’ve packed a bag. It consists of:

* Tissues

*CDs of 80’s Big Hair Bands (Mostly because I can’t get past the guitars, I play a mean air guitar. Guilty.)

*ZZ Top’s Rough Boy on CD ~ constant replay (guitars…)

*My Bible (any guitars in there?)

*Books (to share which ones may reveal more than you care to know)

*LOTS of Emotion (I’ve got voices who’ve been cooped up inside of me for a long time. I think they’ve taken over and agreed to this nonsense, now that I have time to reflect.)

*A Lack of Better Judgement

*Honesty

*Truth

~ Of You

Forces of the unknown, I keep you close;

Feel the push and pull, it’s all self-inflicted.

I read then reread words, admiring your clarity.

Speaking clever exchanges, my mind blissfully addicted,

This fresh interest continues, yet anonymity.

I pursue musing thoughts, here, here and here;

An affinity of the best kind, creatively defined.

*Let me try and explain what I tried to do. If you read from the left and to the comma, then from the left again to the comma and on down, it’s an anticipated daily process. Then if you read from the comma and over, then the comma and over again, and on down its…well, it is what it is. Finally, together, for me, it makes it whole.

She Waits With Music

“The Theme you play at the start of a number is the territory,

and what comes after, which may have very little to do with it,

is the Adventure!” – Ornette Coleman

She Waits With Music

by: Audrey Dawn

Patrons walked by her.  They paused to take a look, but then chose to move on, often times with a glance back, as if  wondering whether she’d be okay. Yes, it was late and she’d been there awhile listening to the light leftover sounds of the imaginative and free style jazz music coming from Basie’s place. A woman isn’t normally out by herself on a street full of dark alleys; short streets filled with dirty puddles which contain the smells rejected by most. She couldn’t allow herself to go inside the bar.

What if she missed him walking by that corner over there or there. Her eyes drifted side to side. She’d decided that the open air, coupled with waiting close by, would allow her to see each visitor who enjoyed this part of town. This time of night. Ambrosia knew she shouldn’t wait outside alone, yet she’d told herself she’d engage in the hopes of finding him. Continue reading

It’s Been A Long Time Friends

Today is a silly story kind of day. I’m feeling very happy and extremely energized, so right off I’m thinking today is going to be fantastic. For starters, I’m not working! Yay, half day of uninterrupted writing for me. This is so super exciting, are ya feelin’ me? Then on top of that, we get to discuss friendship tonight, oh boy. 1095037_538267882889558_1712157000_n

Do I have something to say about that! 

Continue reading

Calling all Ken Follett Fans: We Shall Wait Together

Edge of Eternity will be out in less than a year. I agree, we should all pause for a quick dance around the room, possibly a jig if you’re into that kind of thing. I have been waiting for this announcement since I read Winter of the World, by Ken Follett this past spring. I’m glad to finally have a date, September 16, 2014. Let’s pause to add that to our calendars, shall we?

waiting, waiting, waiting

waiting, waiting, waiting (Photo credit: gilles chiroleu)

I can’t stand this cat and mouse game, but it comes along with reading a series discovered on the front end of its entirety. Sadly, I have a growing list of books I’m waiting to read. I allow this so I can either continue a story in progress or obviously, so I can wrap the series up into a little bow and shelve it away. I like little bows.

I’ve been known to finish a series that I’ve lost investment in just to clear up any resolution issues that may result in the lack of sleep.  In this case, Ken Follett’s Century Trilogy, has me waiting impatiently over how he’ll creatively finalize his characters, but not on where he’ll abandon us in history when the book is through.

I should explain why I’m so apathetic about our history after his series ends. It’s safe to assume that I’m okay with it because he’ll dump me off right where I am, historically speaking. It’s my presumption that I can take it from here, for obvious reasons.

I can head on down to the book store or local library and find current non-fiction books on what’s truly happening around the world OR I could find a trusted newsroom on television that’ll keep me informed. The latter being a bit more of a challenge.

I find myself getting a bit nervous when I begin to think about where his characters, whom I’ve grown to love, will go and what they’ll do. In his third, and final installment, I stop to consider what their fictional fate may be as a result of historical events.

Are you following me? Stick with me…

When I started reading Fall of Giants, the first book in this trilogy, I was, once again, thrown off at how easily I fell into the book’s rhythm. I suppose I’ll always be surprised when I begin a book that I’d previously decided wasn’t for me.

Book + Pushy Knowledgeable Friend = Book Love Affair, every time.

It’s a welcomed relief.  Ken Follett has a keen way of investing us early with an emotional look inside his fictional, yet historical, Century Trilogy.

Cover of "Fall of Giants (The Century Tri...

Cover of Fall of Giants (The Century Trilogy)

The proof is in the first few pages, as it is a genuine lesson in the emotions of  Britain’s Welsh miners. The man, that Follett guy, knew how to grab me, didn’t he? From there I was easily transported into a world of times past.

They, Follett and his staff, have taken measures to make sure that the series runs historically accurate and I appreciate their chivalry, and thrive on it. It’s astounding how quickly this series has sent me into researching further details of the world he brings to life.

I must say, that I’ve found WWI and the Russian Revolution much more interesting the second time around. I know the reason for this is because Follett has discovered a way to make me, Audrey, sit up and listen. It’s our fantastic world history mixed in with the gripping serial drama he’s created. Hook line and sinker, I fell. I’ve fallen hard. I’ve learned so much.

Thank you, Mr. Follett.

Side note, I believe we should start a movement where adults after age 40, are required to take history courses again, one a year. You know, just add it to the list of requirements we have agreed to in order to get our vehicle licensed or possibly receive our tax refund in an orderly fashion.

Why you ask?

Well for one, it would help educate our country on how we’ve placed ourselves into our current intersection.

Or my front-runner, the notion of it, quiet frankly, making my day.

Anyone? Anyone?

Move forward, shall we?

Okay.

Forward ho! (Quick reference to my favorite time period, but I’ve digressed.)

I waited with bated breath for Winter of the World, Ken Follett’s second book in this series. I knew I’d see my beloved characters again, but didn’t take into account that I may have needed to reread Fall of Giants to prepare myself. I recognized right away that the time between books was, seemingly, too long a pause to keep the names and relationships fresh.

I had a tough time remembering whose child belonged to whom, but that didn’t stop me. A quick revisit to Fall of Giants caught me up to speed.

Side note, this is why I’m an advocate for reading a series after the final one’s been written, it’s so you can read the books quickly and consecutively, which eliminates the need to back track, especially in this instance. (Bonus for anyone who’s just now starting to read the series, you’ll be in prime position come next September!) I recognize how this creates quite the problem for authors who need to get paid sooner than later but, I mean come on, there’s a lot to remember and if you’re going to invest in reading time, and especially for a large series like this, its best to either wait, take notes or familiarize yourself with the genealogical cast of characters at the front of his novels, first.

He thinks of everything.

Ken Follett

Ken Follett (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A genealogical casts of characters is undoubtedly the greatest life-changing, hand-holding, sweetly thinking what’s best for Audrey, add-in ever. Ever.

(Can you imagine? Follett thinking what’s best for me. I can…) Suddenly he and his silver hair have become my muse… Just look at him.

Winter of the World.

Yes.

That’s right…

For me, this book’s subject matter was tough. No doubt about it. The content was roughly more depressing, as it should be, and difficult to accept in regards to the factual history involved.

For example, you know that man from Germany and his obsession with blonde hair possibly coupled with blue eyes, yeah well we meet him during the author’s description of, seemingly, the world’s toughest ‘winter’ due to Stalin and Hitler’s cold as ice presence. Follett, takes me on a historical journey that is, at times, bone chilling. We all know how this time in history collapsed.

Sad.

Yet, at the same time I’m getting a back door view of the English hierarchy and the rise of our American influence, which Follett doesn’t hold back on, as he paints a terrible picture of Pearl Harbour and it’s casualties.

Can you imagine my intense desire to read his final book? What I find most interesting about this series is the history I’ve been given a second chance to learn. Mostly, I’m thankful for the American history and the stories Follett dreams up to lay out a lesson on America’s power; even an early look at what Prohibition may have done for and to this country. All this centered around an abundance of multi faceted fictional relationships, which have continued to keep me invested in our world’s history, created through the work of Ken Follett’s mind.

I’m worried about my inability to wait nicely for my chance to read Edge of Eternity, this final book, which holds the ending to a treasured series.

Will you wait with me?

Call To The Post; But, Oh Look, a Squirrel

It’s finally quiet and I can write in peace for the Daily Prompt: A Bend in Time.

The hum of the television is on in the background. Thankfully, it’s just the right amount of noise to persuade me to tune out the world and gather my thoughts.

I hear Robin William’s voice in the air as the house catches his premier episode.

Side Note:

Is he still funny? I’m torn. There are moments, while listening to his voice, that remind me of the days when he was spot on in his delivery. Now, I’m thinking it’s mostly forced and I’m not really into it.

Okay, bye.

Thanks for trying. (as the door slams OR the mouse clicks the X) Sorry, Robin. RV is still a family favorite.

For those of you who can’t agree with me, but can’t count my opinion out either, I thank you. Thank you for allowing me a little more time to convince you to continue reading.

I promise there must be something in this rambling brain of mine that wants to be heard. I know this because it’s been a few days since my fingers felt like race horses. Yeah, lately I’ve been housing ten little race horses that love to get out and run.

Literally, since this afternoon, I’ve sat down at the computer atleast six times. I’ve giggled at a lot I came across on WordPress, enjoyed some very thoughtful posts or pictures, and sat in awe while listening to a particularly smart story.

Anyway, I’d sit here at my desk and allow my fingers to start rubbing the keys. Then they’d bounce with the featheriest of clicks. I hadn’t actually given the green light to allow enough pressure to make the letters appear on the screen, but I could feel it coming. Can you picture it? My fingers just lightly diddling along waiting to be told it was time.

My ears waiting for the, Ding!

Do you have that visual of the little black horse, too?

You know the one. He’s the horse a few of us love to bet on when we’re attending the Kentucky Derby for the first time.

Or maybe that was just me.

Horse racing event

Horse racing event (Photo credit: tpower1978)

He’s the long shot horse that seems to shine as bright as the sun, he has muscles that twitch with excitement as he hears the familiar crowd around him. He’s the animal no one will see coming or sadly he’d been counted out long before race day. Quietly, he’s proven that he’s up for the challenge and worthy of attention.

He’s ready to do his job, he’s ready to race.

I can actually see him trying to climb over the gate. That little swinging door, which is the only piece of material that holds him back from running, from charging forward, with all his might, eagerly approaching the goal they, the horse and his people, had been working towards. The gate holds him back, he snarls with frustration and something narley comes out of his nostrils after hearing, from behind him, that he’ll need to wait a bit longer….

Yeah, that was me. Each time I sat down to write my thoughts something else came up and I’d have to wait.

All of it was valuable, I don’t want to complain in the least, but truthfully they were all distractions. Work, my husband, children, friends, creative blog posts, jaw dropping videos spewing creativity filled with arrangements which further my interests, they all got in the way, yet I welcomed them.

Great distractions, I can’t stress that enough.

Nevertheless, when Friday gets here I’m just itching to get to the screen for some extra uninterrupted writing. Possibly, some coffee shop journaling should be done and mostly a lot of expected research about how I could/would/should improve my abilities is required.

Now that’s a list in itself, so I try not to get too worked up about how far behind I am or when waiting is the only option. Heaven help me if speculations find their way into my thoughts. Thoughts of how elementary my musings seemingly are compared to other seasoned writers.

We all go there once and a while and just thinking about some of it makes my skin crawl. I have to fight off my feelings of throwing in the towel.

I mean, seriously!

Okay, one more Side Note: (pause for my, the crazy lady’s, rant)

How is it that I’ve known this woman for, Oh, I don’t know… how long???… and I’m just NOW learning that she’s an inspiring local writer and someone I could have been talking to all along! Okay, I’m seriously crawling out of my skin about this discovery.

Honestly, we all know from past posts, I’d never actually talk reasonably or rationally about my dreams with her, but wow, I’m stunned, silenced and, actually, I have a bit of a crush on her now. She’s doing what I want to do and she does it effortlessly well.

See this is the reason why she’s multi-talented and I’m just here trying to find someone who wants to read this post. It all really just makes so much more sense now. She walks around in our circle of friends just radiating loveliness, peace, grace and normalcy, which is why I always react to her fondly. However, I should have also listened to myself when I wondered about what she did for a living, all the while blocking it out, because the right thing to do was to wait for her to mention it.

Anyway….blah blah blah…she’s the real deal. Love her.

I’m a hot mess. I can’t even find time to edit work a bit more thought-provoking for you tonight.

Y’all are stuck with this mess. Thanks for seeing this post through til the end. Now I just wanna go back to reading about someone else’s awesomeness.

My ten race horses apparently only needed to prance around a bit and then requested we head back to the stables for bed.

Tomorrow’s breakfast is rumored to be fit for Champions. So, there’s hope yet my friends.

A Reading Nightmare

My other half left, again. I don’t mean my spouse, if any of  you were suddenly reaching for your phone. Let’s not get crazy! What I meant to say is, my other personality, no that’s not right either.

Oh, I’m painting a fantastic picture.

What I”m trying to say is that the reader in me has left, again. She does this from time to time, and I hate her for it, as it seems she has no respect for my attachment issues. She waltzes in at the beginning of the summer and starts pulling books off the shelf at the local library. She actually gets there early and finds time to sit on the floor of the new book section with a few rolls of Smarties and starts a running list.

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My ‘No Matter What’ Friends

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Do you have people in your life who enrich it to the point that it begins feeling disingenuous? I have been considering this for some time now. I have been blessed with some of the most encouraging friends and for the life of me I don’t know why. I don’t feel like I have returned their encouragement as well as they have given it out. I often walk away wondering, what I’ve done to deserve their love and acceptance.

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I’m up…I’m down…

A few months ago…

I went to Starbucks this morning, wow it can be loud in there, for a much needed jolt to my day. The woman asks for a name for my cup. I say, Audrey. She smiles, says “pretty”.

I walk down to the end feeling good. Yea, I guess I’ve grown used to my name and yea it’s pretty. The absolutely adorable, young, chic, artsy woman making my coffe says “is yours the extra hot coffee?” I say, yes. She looks at the cup and says…”Audrey, what a classy name.” I say, thank you, because its so loud, and smile. Wow, I do have a great name.

As I’m walking to the car everything is serine, the grackles are chirpping, the smell of Spring in the air, the 70° has no humidity attached to it, and I have a beautiful name. I pause to thank my parents for such a nice name, thank God for a great morning and then look down at my cup…..TRUE STORY PEOPLE!!! Back to where I started…

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