Advice from the backseat

With the hiatus over
Feeling my mind’s engine re-tuned and re-charged
Tooling down the back roads of my imagination
Cranking on all cylinders and picking up speed
I listen as the tires kiss the dirt
And the rocks fly up to return the favor
Like tea leaves in the bottom of a teacup
I see signs in the streaks of bug goo on the windshield
And in the contrail of dust following my every turn
And hear, as I often do, whispers of wisdom
Rise over the headrest to tickle my ear
With the hiatus over
Back behind the wheel
Pedal to the metal and bound for anywhere
I let the vehicle take me where it wanted to go

This is where I landed!

Kids in the back seat cause accidents

tell me another

Accidents in the back seat cause kids
kyle oy face

 

LoL
Maybe I could steer just a little
😉

Mr. and Mrs. Smite – Prologue (as it turns out)

This post has been in my head and heart and groin (yeah, I know, but it has) for a long time now.

There have been times over the last couple years I’ve come straight here, to this screen, knowing exactly what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it.

But to date, I’ve yet to get beyond the first word.
I think I’ve been too embarrassed, ashamed, confused, conflicted, to go any further.

If I don’t chicken out today, I’ll get to the end, knowing I need to get it out.
If I do (chicken out)…then I hope I find the courage to finish tomorrow.
Or even later today.
It’s still early right?

Whether this is the place is another question.
It really doesn’t matter though, as this is the only place, and these are the only ears, I go to, to be who I am and say what I need to say.

Good or Bad
Right or Wrong
This is where I first found my voice and it makes no sense to shut up now.

So…pull up the big chair, smoke ’em if ya got um, get ready to flex the wincing muscles, cause you’re gonna need ’em.

This ain’t gonna be pretty; looking this intently in the mirror rarely is. But it is gonna be real.
And for what it’s worth, I don’t think I’ll be alone, even though alone is a very familiar and all too comfortable place to be.

It’s the tale of 2 bodies and 4 people (in other words, a couple).

Me and ‘The Mrs’
Him and ‘The Mr’

Now, I know all of us (and I mean ALL of us) are multi-faceted individuals.
We are, at times, everything to everybody.
We are not one-dimensional, nor are we unique.
Our struggles with the day-to-day of the human condition are nothing if not universal.

That said…we are though.
Unique that is.

We could, all of us, be presented with like scenarios, similar circumstances, the same quandaries, and yet, come up with a myriad of reasons for or solutions to “IT”.

I get that…but for my part, I own this.
Or we do…as the case may be.

I stand before you, naked and afraid, but determined to share a burden that weighs heavily on me.
(You’ll appreciate the verbiage of that soon enough).

It weighs heavily enough that it runs a loop in my brain like THE worst ever episode of ‘This Is Your Life”.

There are some here old enough to remember that show…for those too young, perhaps it’s like seeing your life flash before your eyes as you die and you think “Shit…who did I piss off to deserve that?”

Maybe…I don’t know.

This is difficult. Maybe more so than sharing with you past traumas in my life that were not dealt with until I was facing my own 50 Shades of Gray Hair.

I thought those shares would be the end of my life as I knew it.
But they weren’t.
In fact, very little has changed (to any degree)
I’ve found that people, like water, take the path of least resistance whenever possible.
And I understand it.

But, I also understand, it cannot matter to me what other people think or do.
Anymore.

It only matters what I think and what I do.
Not easy…never easy to be consciously selfish.
But necessary.

I’m very close to scaring myself out of continuing.
Think I’ll go pour myself some liquid courage.

I’ll be back…

I hope

PONDERING

As I was lying around, pondering the problems of the world…

IMG_1965

I realized a few things…

  • At my age I don’t really give

a rat’s ass anymore.

  • If walking is good for your health,

the postman would be immortal.

  • A whale swims all day, mainly eat fish, drinks water,

but is still fat.

  • A rabbit runs and hops

and only lives 15 years

Meanwhile…

  • A tortoise doesn’t run, does mostly nothing,

yet lives for 150 years.

Exercise you say?

IMG_1967

Pfffft….it’s Nap Time!

Porch Poet

porch collage
P inkish hues of spider’s silk
O ranges, yellows, whites like milk
R eds and greens in varying tints
C apture the sun’s rays as they glint
H ere on the mums, there on a wing
P rompting retreat to shade covered things
O ppressive, this air you can cut with a knife
E ven the bird, like dragon, still life
T oday’s one for dwelling, musing, no movement
S o hoping tomorrow will bring some improvement

 

Laboriously Laboring and Languidly Lingering this Loathingly Liquid Labor Day

Labor Day.

The last holiday before the official end of summer.

And this is a steamy one for sure.

Humidity levels are through the roof so if you venture into the sun, you’ll braise…not bake  🙄

It is a day to celebrate the working person.

A day to ‘not’ work [as long as you don’t work in retail, then it’s a day to go Christmas shopping].

I know, right?

Anyway, since I don’t work outside the home, it is just another laundry day, with the added bonus of baking turtle brownies. (turtle brownies:  nuts and caramel in the brownies, um yeah mama)

Baking?  Today?  In this heat?

Ummm, my indoor thermostat says 68, and as he knows me well…he knows that should his digits read below 68, I shall haul off and punch him in the face!

So yeah, it’s a baking day  🙂

brownies

As happens in the summer, more bloggers are out living life rather than inside writing about it, hence, less blogging more jogging. At least it seems so to me.

And while I wasn’t out there jogging (God forbid!) I was ‘out there’.

So Labor Day does tend to remind me that it’s time to come in once in a while and ease back into the fall yarns (get it?) so when winter comes, I’ll be knitting stories with the best of ya!

I don’t have any particular “What I did on my summer vacation” tales to weave, but I do have a snap or two that do paint (crafty eh?) a pretty picture of some of the fun we had.

Like…the time Matty spent back in the lower 48. Three weeks of sun and disc golf and beachin and boozin (ahem) and cousins and Grandfolks and…well, you get the idea

labor day collage

For myself…most of my time was spent in the same places as the boys…I just had my hands on something other than a beer bottle.

[Ah shit, that’s a lie. I had one hand on a bottle and the other on the camera.]

Okay? Geesh! Can’t get away with crap around here!

So my time was spent catching mountains and moonlight…

labor day collage 2

then rivers, lakes, and lilly pads, roads and bridges too.

labor day collage 3

I had a couple days where the pickens were slim; a tree and some deer, and an old car pullin in. A whirlygiggly butterfly and dead people’s ground; a downpour and a pond sign for an absconded pond.

labor day collage 4

But you all know what I’m like, always a barn or two; then Supe with his sidekick, and a damsel lunching, eew eew…

labor day w Collage 5

This is a glimpse of what I’ve been laboring with. And if I do say…
Life is Good!

Hope you all had an enjoyable, relaxing, family and fun filled summer.
I look forward to seeing more regular attendance now that Blog U is back in session.

🙂 R

The Fickle Pickle

fick·le ˈfikəl/ adjective:

changing frequently, especially as regards one’s loyalties, interests, or affection.

I’m in a pickle ’cause I love slap and tickle but taken alone I hate a slap but love a tickle am I fickle?

 

No…not quite like that.

Here’s the thing…I was sitting on the porch this morning, as is usual, with my coffee and smokes, thinking…

“I love this” followed immediately by “I hate this”.

That thought alone, occupied my brain for the next 2 hours. Through my second cuppa, my third smoke, changing the sheets, checking my mail, taking my shower, love/hate, love/hate, love/hate…

Enough with the fickle pickle already!

So…to clear my head of this love/hate dialogue that was making my head spin, I thought I could put it down on paper and try to figure out if I am, in fact, ficklish.  (That’s like being ticklish only not as much fun)

Or, am I just someone who can NOT make a damned decision and stick with it.

I found it was much easier said than done. Mostly because there are waaaaay too many; way, way, too many; did I say way to many?

However, not to be deterred, and despite the shear number…I’m giving it another go.

Only this time, I’m limiting myself to one fickle per letter of the alphabet. I don’t know yet if I’ll have one for every letter, just as I already know I will have to choose between more than one for some others.

But…if a letter is empty, then I’ve got nothing.

Yet!

I know…it’s a bit ridickle!

And I also know, limiting some of the letters to one thing is going to be near impossibickle!

But, I shall try. Because, my hope is, by the time I’m done, I can look at the list objectively and do one of two things:

Decide which side of the coin I’m on.
or
Embrace the pickle and be tickled that I’m fickle.

No…seriously.  I need to do this.

I need to challenge myself to be more/do more/try more/embrace more…things that I love.
To a greater degree than not doing more/trying more/being more/embracing more…of the things I can change.

Because…the ‘hate side’ is…simply put…FEAR

Here goes ~ The Fickle Pickle of Love/Hate Relationships A to Z

Aging
I love that I’ve earned my stripes.
I hate that that they are on my body, so I undress in the dark.

Beaches
I love when the beach is empty and the waves are crashing.
I hate the bikini strewn, human oil slick, so I beach in winter.

Crowds
I love the excitement that creates a crowd.
I hate feeling alone in one, so I avoid them.

Dreams
I love hearing about dreams.
I hate having them, so I don’t (at least I don’t remember them).

Equality
I love the idea of it, in all things.
I hate that sometimes, I am part of the problem in remaining silent.

Flying
I love the journey,
I hate the hassle, so I don’t (very often).

Google
I love that you can have an answer in a flash.
I hate that it has replaced looking things up in the encyclopedia and the dictionary, but I’m guilty too.

Humidity
I love what it does for my skin.
I hate what it does to my hair, I’m a chia pet!

Immigration
I love that American means Everyonecan.
I hate that it has become counting pennies vs. counting kids, but that’s the reality we live in.

Jingles
I love knowing them, singing them, and recognizing the product by the tune.
I hate knowing them, singing them, and recognizing that I just might be a couch potato!

Kayaking
I love the idea of being ‘one with the water’, especially in the quiet, early morning mist, just as the sun rises.
I hate the spidery hidey hole where I can’t see my feet, so I don’t.

Love
I love love, being in love, being loved, giving love.
I hate what happens to me when love doesn’t feel safe.
I hate losing a single second to that most of all.
Shying away from love for fear of pain may be a form of self defense.
But it’s the worst offense against yourself there could ever be.

Motherhood
I love being a mother, for there is no love like it in the world.
I hate being a mother, at times, for there is no fear like it in the world.
(Though this, I would NEVER change)

Nakedness
I love the rare times I’ve allowed myself the freedom, wishing it always felt that way.
I hate the majority of my adult life has been spent trying to avoid it.

Obsession
I love the passion it takes to have one.
I hate the control I lose when I do, which is often.

Porches
I love being a porch dweller; morning coffee, afternoon wine, thunderstorms…
I hate being a porch dweller; going out to smoke, checking the spi-dar for spiders, being spied upon by the people driving or walking by, an oddi-tee in a nigh-tee!

Q

Rainbows
I love the spontaneous way they pop up hither and thither and yon, alone or in pairs, nature at it’s best.
I hate the feeling of ‘somewhere’ I get when I see one.

Smoking
I love smoking
I hate everything about it, but here I am

Technology
I love how the human mind works, developing new technology to solve the world’s problems
I hate that technology has replaced some sadly lacking human qualities…like kindness, empathy, compassion, and common sense. Definitely one of those ‘double edged swords’

U

Vermont
I love Vermont, you know I do. I am as Green Mountain blooded as I am red blooded.
I hate Vermont, and I’ll leave it there.

Wine
I love what it does for me
I hate what it does to me.
Let’s face it, beer drinkers go deaf and shout and have their beer-bellies.
Wine drinkers go soft and fuzzy and have wine-wattles!

Xray
I love xray technology for finding broken bones and cancerous tumors.
I hate xray for finding things we cannot fix.
I do wonder if I’d rather not know if that’s the case.

Yoda
I love Yoda for his wisdom, manner, sense of humor, and common sense 🙂
I hate Yoda because to look at him reminds me that Superman is mortal 😦
As are we all…but still.

Zoos
I love the zoo for obvious reasons.
I hate the zoo for even more obvious reasons.

So…the challenge to me is to address the love/hates and see which are hurting me or preventing me from growing as a person.  Granted, some will remain as they are…we can’t love everything, but nor can we hate everything…and we can certainly have a bit of both now and then.

As a shield…hate sucks.

As a tool…hate sucks.

As a rule…hate sucks.

As a reminder to do better…hate can work.

Challenge yourselves…and if anyone has a love/hate they’d like to share, I’d like to hear.

xo

R