Hello everyone. New post coming soon.  I promise it won't be long now.  Love ya. pat

What Would Poe Have Said Differently?

The integrity of the written word stands for nothing these days and I am just a little pissed about it!  I was just sitting and contemplating all the articles on TV and News programs talking about people being fired, or being denied employment etc about their social media pages. I know that there are many mean spirited and down right evil people out there many of them a heck of a lot smarter than me when it comes to computers but I think that most of us are just quite little folks with families and friend and we just want a place to vent, laugh, cry, celebrate all the simple minded victories that life has to offer to us. Years ago it was that one had to watch what they said because the busy body phone operators who had nothing better to do would listen in and then gossip about every ones business.  Then came the party line on your telephone and others could hear you and start gossip yet again.  Can you imagine if all the great artists, authors and the like worried about being politically correct. Just where would we be in  regards to these awesome works of literature and art if they felt they would be ostracised for their creative experiences? These folks did not worry about stifling their writings, they just let it rip!  They wrote and painted and socialized with many and were welcomed by more for their truthful representation of people with their stories.  They did not worry that they would be sued, or disliked by their peers or their employers or those who had the money to quiet them. So mind your ABC'S when you are writing but always write from your heart, your creative perspective. When your heart speaks, you should listen. If you write from a pure and creative place whether for fun or profit think to yourself, "What would Poe have said differently?"

Happiness Comes At A Cost

Man, Over this past week I have been so far inside my head I cannot see my way clear of anything! I have really been over thinking to many things and now I must stop. So today I make the conscious effort to just move back away from it all and just be present. We have been working on the outside of the house and it really looks great.  It is taking on a new life, our life and although I loved it before. I love it even more now.  The garden is growing.  Except those darn raccoons seem to like tromping through our garden leaving the neighbors alone, go figure. We have really nothing planted that they like to eat, so I am not sure why they have chosen us when my neighbors is lush with ready carrots, tomatoes, squash and beans. damn she has beans!   Our beans are terrible.  They cannot seem to get a foothold for some reason. The orchids are beginning to bloom and will do so all summer long.  We have some white moth orchids the size of sand dollars and they are so beautiful at night as their big white flowers dance off the moonlight.   So life is good in this house, our house.  I sit here at 5:00 am. I have been up since around 3:00am just waiting for the sunrise to breathe new fresh life into my brain. I am enjoying the quiet and just letting things kinda rattle around inside my head. It is my hope that a few things will just jump out and run on down the street, I'll not chase them I tell you! Today I will finish a few projects, put some things in the van to donate to the Sharing Center. I will be a big girl and make a few needed phone calls and I will play!  Thanks to all to ramble through hope you have a blessed day.  I will be up and running again soon.

It's Tuesday And The Sun Is Shining, Not!

I know, I know, I always said I would like to have a cheerful blog but damn it's been a bad day! When I worked on the ambulance we would always go to this one nursing home and the calendar that they put out for the residents was never changed so it always said, "Today is Tuesday, the sun is shining."  It made me laugh and smile every time I would see it.  I always remarked, "At least it is always pleasant weather!"  I liked that credo and always tried to follow it no matter what the circumstances.  Today was to be no exception until.....we took the family to Chic Fil La.(?spelling) It was family night. That meant lots of kids running around an already noisy restaurant, jumping up and down, in and out of their seats most with pieces of whatever they were eating dangling half chewed out of their mouths as they screamed in delight that they were going to the play yard! Oh God, I was in Hell!  I had a meeting tonight. part of my direct sales business.  I would just be a few minutes so we decided the children had been good enough we would make a date out of it and take them to dinner and a quick romp in the play yard. The minute I walked in I felt my cortisol levels rising.  Then without warning, my daughter launched into a full on wango tango. Why? She had seen the cow mascot and is terrified of the darn thing.  I was already holding her but she tried to climb higher up on my body and before no time she was on my shoulder with her body wrapped around my head!  No way out. My husband took her outside and was able to calm her down. But the damage was already done. We should have gone home but no we would conquer this and all would be well.  Not!  Once on the play yard she ran around all cute like with everyone in awe of this tiny little pixie until she started to slap kids and one boy she tried to bite, twice!  Then it was all her fault. Parents pulled their kids out of the play yard scoffing about somebodys mean little girl.  Trying to get under the table I politely apologized and prayed that the kids would tire and want to leave.  Oh no they would have stayed all night.  But then I was saved...by the return of the cow.  Thank God for the cow. We pulled the kids off the play yard. I think we got all their shoes, not sure and headed for the van before anyone else could comment.  Phew, safe.  Note to self. Never take a wango tango to family night. It is a recipe for disaster. It is now two hours later and finally the children have all been put to bed. Some because it was time and others because they were still so wound up they needed to be protected from themselves.  None the less, it is now quiet. I still do not feel calm. I am very frustrated. I want to sleep on the couch just to be by myself so I can contemplate on my credo, Today is Tuesday the sun is shining!  I pray tomorrow will be a better day.  Thanks for listening. Be blessed and well.

And Yet I'm Still Inspired!?

Several years ago I asked God for a do over.  You know what that is don't you?  A promise that if you do the right things for the right reasons God will give you the strength to make your life right.  Well at least in my mind that's what a do over is.  So I tried it.  It took me a long time not to worry about the people I would hurt, or might hurt, let alone those gossip mongers who would make statements that would be less than kind to me for being so selfish that I could disrupt what they believed to be the truth.  It was difficult and to some extent still is but it does get easier when you just believe it.  So I decided that in this new truth that I would be inspired. Inspired by those who seem to have it all together. The list for me is long. They aren't just the famous folks that we all see everyday on the news, or magazine covers. They are the normal people that I come into contact on a day to day basis.  The cashier at the grocery that always has a smile or kind word.  The person who holds the door for you when you are going into the post office. There are so many! My Grandmother Mary was a huge inspiration for me.  She always had a smile on her face. Only later in my life did I learn of the hardships and diversity that she had in her life. The one common denominator was that these folks had passion, they were inspired.  I know they have obstacles that cause them stress but the passion wins out in the end.  So I decided I wanted to be like them.  I would choose to be happy. To do the right thing, always. To be inspired!  Perhaps it is more about living your authentic self. Your truth. No matter what your "station" in life is if you do the very best you can everyday and be inspired by those who are trying their best than you can aspire to be inspired!  I am not perfect by any means but I do the best I can (mostly).
There is a beautiful song by Skye Dyer called You Inspire Me. If you get the chance YouTube it and be inspired! 

It's Not Just A House, It's A Home!

My husband and I purchased a house that was built in 1963. It is in an older neighborhood and had only one owner. The original owners of the home were both school teachers, they raised two children and over the course of those forty or so years had various family members living along with them in the house. Their daughter lived here in the house along with her daughter (their grand-daughter). According to the neighbors this child was a "holy terror" and often threw fits and had terrible destructive behavior.  Her room was painted black and the carpet on the floor was dark red.  We have also learned that this child has been in and out of foster care since she was nine years old. When we found the house it was interesting,  kinda qwerky but had potential.  My husband drove into the yard and said he felt he was "home."  He called the broker from the front yard and made a good faith payment without asking me about it!  The first time he brought me to see the house, I too felt like I had been there forever, it was home. The house had/has some work that needs to be done, but little by little we are getting it done.  Ironically, I have been in this house before. While working as a Paramedic I responded to a call in the night and in the rain.  When I saw the house again, it all came back to me including the weird little picture that is nailed to the front door just above the lock.  It is the olive tree of life and it remains on our door still today! There are things that make a house a home, gives it character. These are the things we will never change. The child that was here carved into the bathroom door. "Hate me because I need you", how tragic is that?  One afternoon we were sitting on the front patio while the children were playing and a car drove up. We knew immediately the young women who got out of the car was the same child that used to live here( she is now 17). She was shy and introduced herself to us and said she used to live here.We told her about our adopted children and she was so happy that there was love and laughter in her house again.  We talked quite a bit about her life when she lived here mostly with her Grandmother.  She said she loved this house and always felt like it was her home.  My husband nodded to me and I asked her if she would like to come inside. She was so excited and graciously thanked us for allowing her to visit.  I brought her into the living room and the house just shone like gold and glistened as if to say; "welcome home Emily" it was awesome!  I showed her the changes but also showed her the things we will never change, like the door picture, the key holder, her Grandfathers mirror and yes even the scratching on the bathroom door.  We told her that this was her home and would always be. It has been passed onto our family to honor and cherish it forever.  She cried.  It was a good day.  So many times a house is just a house, but it is always the people who make it a home!

"Quiet Quilt"

Since my last post I have been contemplating what I should post next. I have thought many thoughts about my trip to Orlando and because I live here I didn't feel I would be affected by re-entry. Boy was I wrong! I spend most of my days now thinking about the women I have met, their stories and how they relate to mine. I think of their joy and the opposite their heartaches. The one thing I noticed was none of them seemed "hardened" by their experiences, and this to me represented resilience. I wrote this poem about 5 years ago and somehow today it seems relevant.  I hope you take some emotion from it.  Thanks (please excuse my grammar call it poetic license)
Quiet Quilt
She sits quietly with her voice, trapped silently behind still walls.
Alone and afraid of the coming of the next day. 
Her secret desires buried like old quilts at the bottom of a seldom used trunk.
A treasure just waiting to be discovered, as if for the first time seen by anothers eyes.
Once found, this beauty is renewed, no longer silent but displayed and adorned with a new voice and a most prescious vision.
Behold silence, nor afraid, a new day.
No longer trapped.
No longer silent.
Ever still, but with comfort and with peace