50 Shades of Gray Hair

Reflection

Today’s Reflection comes…why?
Because it’s Friday?
Because it’s the 70th Anniversary of D-Day?
Because it’s the last day my baby boy will live in his 20s?(eek)

Maybe
Maybe not
Why then
Why Reflect
Why Reminisce
Why Record
Why Remember

Why not?
Does there have to be a Reason?
Do we need an excuse?
Does there have to be a catalyst?
Why not just because today is as good a day as any?
Better yet, why not just because I feel like it?

A double edged sword, to be sure
As many will make us weep as make us smile
Some take us to unhappy times in unhappy places
Some remind us of simple pleasures, small joys, and the blessings we enjoy
While others bring back the people, places, and things, that helped shape who we are, for better or worse

I like to think they are all of value in our lives
Lessons in patience and tolerance?
Lessons in loving and winning or losing and letting go?
Lessons in living in the moment so we may appreciate what we have and not focus on what we don’t?

Sure…all of those things, and more
It could be said there are as many Reasons as there are Reflections
And it could also be said there are as many Reasons not to

But I’m a survivor of the past…yet I believe in ghosts
I may have my windows open in the present, but the back door is still unlocked
Should I close and lock that back door?
Set my sites strictly on what’s ahead?
I could, but there’s just something…in spite of it all
That I can never and will never, leave behind

I’m an old soul
And that’s okay
I’d rather see and know where I came from
Appreciate where I am today
Than worry about where I am going
Because one thing is for sure…

We all end up here, in some form or another…we all end up here

And it all matters…it’s all worth
A Reflection

I wanted to share some of the beauty I found while in London during the fall of 2012. One of my favorite days was spent wandering the winding paths through Abney Park Cemetery with probably the only person I know who appreciates it as much as I do, but perhaps for different reasons.

I did feel the history as well as the sorrow of what once was, yet was at once at ease in my surroundings. I saw nothing ugly in the tilted and tipped over stones; felt no outrage at the lack of care for each individual plot. It felt as natural, and looked as beautiful, as any place I’ve ever seen. Most laid in that hallowed ground, have been there longer than my own country has existed. Imagine. The moments of reflection and wonder spent there will be with me forever.

Adapt

We begin as seed
    the idea of life

Aided by elements essential to thrive
    we become what we are meant to be

In times of stress, turmoil, and destruction
    we adapt, if only to survive, but still hoping to grow

The inevitable of life is death
The key to living is change
The joy is in making the most of it

Damsel Shadow

We are never alone as long as the sun shines

That is what I see.
What about you?

Time to Jump

I’ve racked my brain these last couple weeks trying to figure out why the muse has left the park and the carnies have picked up and packed away the games whose prizes used to fill my virtual toy box with fun and imaginative bits and bobs, but are now just cheap trinkets and sad, stuffed critters gathering dust.

Have I gone deaf? Or have the barkers stopped barking, the ringers stopped ringing, the poppers stopped popping?

Why can’t I smell the smokey, the sweet, the salty aromas that used to make my nose smile and my mouth run with meaty ideas and sweet and savory anecdotes?

Has my mind’s eye gone blind to the flash of the Ah Ha light bulbs, the story weaving fabrics of the neon rainbows, or the strange and beautiful oddities on two legs and four, that once teased a tale worth telling?

Yes, these last 6 months (plus the 12 before that if I’m honest) have been some of the weirdest of my life.
And yes, most of that time was spent in The Heartbreak Hotel or The House of Horror or for that matter, The Halls of Magic Mirrors.

While I did share those tales from the crypt, once the telling was done, the park went dark.
The tent spikes pulled, the manure cleaned up, the coming attractions came and went.
And once loaded, the train hit the rails and headed for someone else’s parking lot.

So what’s next?
Do I stand by the side of the tracks like a hobo with my life filled bundle-on-a-stick?
Do I then jump on the next box car that passes by, hoping to find “it” down the line?

Or…do I drop yesterday’s bundle, step over the tracks, and begin a new leg of my journey?

I believe so.

I’ve been standing here waiting for too long now.

Time to scrape what’s left of the elephant shit off my shoes and get moving.

Synchronize: 6.1.2014 at Now O’clock
Starting Point: West of There ~ North of Then
The New Heading: East to Here ~ South to Now
The Destination: Unknown ~ Anywhere ~ Everywhere

Take a walk with me…let’s talk

First Step…trading shit-kickers for walking shoes.
Next Step…trading four walls for open space and the keyboard for the camera.
Each Step Thereafter…we’ll see what we see and share what we feel.
I want to know…and I want to hear it.

Snap. Crackle. Pop.

I see it…SNAP
You see it…CRACKLE
We tell it…POP

A word, a sentence, a poem, a memory, a feeling…
No matter how short or how long…
Be it funny, sad, truth, lie, fact, or fiction…
I want to hear about it.

This is the path for now…
The idea is Show and Tell
The questions are…

Do You See What I See?
Do You Feel What I Feel?
Do You Hear What I Hear?

It’s where I’m going and it’s how I’m hoping to re-open the amusement park that once thrived in the ordinary and mundane being anything but.

I look forward to welcoming you along.
And who knows? You may just find a junction of your own.
An inspiration that leads you to hop on a new train, or off the one you’re on.
Anything’s possible on the road to Anywhere.

See you soon and I’ll bring the ordinary…

You bring the extra.

Do you know why?

In preparation for Memorial Day, May 26th, I’d like to share with you an event that happened in September 2013.

In France.

An event that was not overly (if at all) publicized in the US, though it should have been.

Thankfully, we have friends here and abroad who believe we need to see.

To visualize…just what it is we are memorializing.

Excellent History Lesson

A large percentage of our country doesn’t know of (or therefore, care) about Normandy during WWII.

Has it been removed from the History Books? Do they still teach about D-Day?

British artist Jamie Wardley, Andy Moss, and nearly 600 volunteers, took to the beaches of Normandy with rakes and stencils in hand to etch 9,000 silhouettes representing fallen people into the sand.

Titled: The Fallen 9000 [http://thefallen9000.info/]

The piece is meant as a stark visual reminder of those who died during the D-Day beach landings at Arromanches on June 6th, 1944 during WWII. The original team consisted of 60 volunteers, but as word spread nearly 500 additional local residents arrived to help with the temporary installation that lasted only a few hours before being washed away by the tide.

9,000 Fallen Soldiers Etched into the Sand on Normandy Beach to Commemorate Peace Day on September 25, 2013

A visually stunning reminder of why.

Don’t you agree?

Save a moment during the upcoming ‘Holiday’ to say a word of thanks to all who have, do, and will…serve their countries with one thought in mind…

Our Freedom

God Bless and Godspeed

‘Tis the Season

And so it begins

The Season

Visitors

Week Long

Visitors

Mother-In-Law plus 1

Visitors

Oh Goody

32 years as a Daughter-In-Law

10 years of hoping

(I’d disappear?)

Almost…(Once)

But not quite

Another 21 of tolerating me

1 year of resignation

What next?

Will I finally pass muster?

This week may tell

I leave you with this…

Just kidding

In all fairness, it’s more like this…

Oh alright, it’s not THAT bad

They are just house guests after all

Right?

What’s the worst that could happen?

See ya next week

Maybe

ps) Kat…hope you don’t mind my stealing two of your gifs

pss) B…if you still read this blog, laugh now.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Now, I hope you all know me enough by now to know that I am picking fun here. My Mother-In-Law is a strong, intelligent, sensitive woman and we get along famously. It just took us some time to find our own relationship, as it did my husband and his Mother-In-Law. There is love and there is respect and that is all there needs to be.

It’s important to let the seeds of this relationship grow naturally, organically, outside that of the child/spouse connection.

There is nothing in the rules of marriage handbook (and I’m sure there is one out there, somewhere) that says you have to love or even be friends with your spouse’s mother.

It helps, but it’s also okay if not.

(I don’t know why, but Fathers-In-Law relationships do NOT have the same dynamic)

Love doesn’t happen just because she birthed your spouse nor for the fact that you happened to choose her child as a life mate.

That just opens the door. To be welcomed in and invited to take up space in their hearts, you must be worthy in your own right.

If there’s any hope for a relationship, there has to be respect. On both sides. And, because you’ve both earned it.

Respect is one of those things we each feel we deserve.

Just because.

Not so.

As with any relationship in life, whether personal or professional, we can respect the title/position, but the person in it, must earn it.

Also, as we cannot choose our blood relations, we do our best to love them because of our common link, but we often find ourselves in the position of not respecting them for various reasons.

Love but don’t respect – common in relationships to those we are born into.

But for those to whom we have no connection other than by proxy via our spouse, if we do not/cannot develop a familial love, we can at the least hope to develop a relationship based on mutual respect.

If not (especially if your spouse is close to your In-Law) then personally, I’d say your marriage has a boot on its neck.

Especially evident when you and your spouse have kids of your own…

Becoming a Mother-In-Law can be daunting if the relationship with the new son/daughter lacks respect as well as the love connection.

Could you imagine becoming a grandparent to the little seed of your precious apple in a relationship fraught with tension and stress because either you or your In-Law or your spouse were always on the defensive?

Nahhhh…that’s for the birds and a bit like cutting off your limb to spite your trunk, if you know what I mean.

So, this Mother’s Day, it is with high hopes that all the wives and husbands who share porch space with me here, boast a happy, healthy, loving relationship with your respective Mothers-In-Law. If not, I sincerely hope you share one of mutual respect.

If not yet, work on it. It’ll make all the difference in the world…to ALL of you.

If you’re a newbie, or a work in progress, keep at it.

The door opened the day you got married…it’s up to you to be welcomed inside.

Conversely…to all the Mothers-In-Law out there still struggling with the addition to the family…

It is with respect I say this…

“They are married.

You didn’t lose one, you gained one.

You did your job, now enjoy the fruits of your labor while they make fruits of their own.

Resist when you’re not asked.

Be there when you are.

And if you can’t…try harder.

Should you choose the right road, and it IS a choice, you’ll end up smack-dab in the middle of the intersection of Love Lane and Respect Avenue.

HAPPY♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥MOTHER’S♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥DAY

Mom and Bertha

I love you

The Latest FuZZy BuZZ on Spring Fashion?

**Does this color make my ass look fat?**

There I just needed a bigger size — **There**
**I just needed a bigger size**

Fair Weather Friends

I have a new guy in my life.

Yup.

His name is Lenny and he visits me every day the sun shines.

He likes to laze around, sunning himself on the porch steps while I putter in my pots.

Pots, people…flower pots.

Yeah, he’s not much of a talker, but that’s fine. If I want noise, I’ll listen to the voices in my head.

He’s a bit shy of strangers. To be honest, he can be down right rude when my neighbors pop by to ooh and ahh over this spring’s bounty.

He turns his back and wanders off without so much as a ‘howdy do or by your leave’.

I really should talk to him about that; he’s ruining my street cred. I’ve heard the whispers…

‘Why does Rhonda spend so much time with Lenny the Lug, he’s so rude!”

See what I mean? Yeah, it’s time for a good chin wag with my fair weather friend.

The sun’s in and out today, so I’ll have to keep an eye out in case he shows up.

I’m running out of refreshment ideas though. (I wonder if that’s what keeps him coming back? The num nums?)

Well, I suppose I can mosey on down to my mailbox, which seems to be THE spot where the local buggaboos hang out.

I’ll just have to find a way to entice that crowd onto my porch steps; introduce them to Len so he can have them ~~over~~ for dinner.

So, let me introduce you…

Friends…Lenny Lenny…Friends

Leapin’ Lizards…isn’t he cute?

Lost and Found

Yesterday I visited a too-long forgotten toy box brought to mind by a friend.

Today I found something I’d thought lost when an earlier laptop decided to commit Hara-Kiri.

I love these reminders that I’m getting old…because now when I think I’ve lost something irreplaceable, I can at least hold out hope (if I remember to) that I’ve just forgotten that I took steps to make sure that didn’t happen.

It’s like that AH HA moment of opening the freezer and finding your favorite pair of underwear!

“Ah Ha! Now I remember, I put you in there to help with the night sweats.”

I’m not the only one.

Right?

RIGHT?

Okay, sure, whatever…I’ll just say it made sense at the time and I’m glad all I did was forget I put them there and not that I forgot I had them, or that I lost them, or shit….now I’m so confused.

What was I looking for?

Oh, wait…I found something. That’s it.

I found something I thought I’d lost because I forgot I saved it just in case I lost it because I had forgotten to save it.

Ahhhhh. There…that’s better.

Right?

So…what did the Old Lady That Lived in a Freezer find?

1200 photographs of her ‘once in a lifetime’ trip to London.

I KNOW right? What a thing to think was lost and gone forever!

I was crazy pissed off at my(self) laptop for dying with my magical mystery tour locked inside.

But…I must have had a non-senior moment the day I put them all on DVD, which I found in the last box of ‘stuff’ pulled out of the garage because hubby finally got my bookcases put together.

And imagine my ginormous, humongous, silly ass, what in the hell did you do this time comes spewing out of the hubby’s mouth as he comes running to see what’s happened cause the wife is going ape shit, reaction?

Yup…like that.

Seriously, I swear I’ll never get pissed off when I lose something again (if I remember to) because chances are I’ll remember I just forgot and I’ll find what I lost, or remember what I forgot to remember about where I put it or…crap!

This is too much work. I’ll just try to remember next time that I might have forgotten something.

Right?

Oh…and for the foreseeable future, I’m heading back to London. I’m sure I’ll find something to share.

One stop on the memory train

I read a post today that transported me

That happens quite often doesn’t it?

To all of us?

We’ll hear a tune drifting out the open windows of a passing car and no longer are we standing on a hot sidewalk in line at the ATM, but magically taken to an ‘out of school for the summer’ beach trip with our best girlfriends, laughing and flirting while sand filled our shorts and Sun-In made us all one shade of blonde or another.

Or we’ll catch a smell in the air that immediately takes us back. Maybe to a warm and tiny kitchen in the back of a house shared with the post office; where a grandmother is frying donuts in a big cast iron pot and where too, the back porch isn’t just a place to take off your muddy boots before tramping into Gram’s small but tidy nook…but a place where Gramp sits grinding fresh horseradish, tears rolling down his stubbled cheeks as easily as the sweat pours off his shiny bald knob.

And there are times, we’ll read something, like Tink’s post today, that’s like peeking into that too-long forgotten toy box in your mind’s attic…the one where you keep all your found treasures and best memories of childhood…waiting for a day like today.

Sometimes, these trips down memory lane can cover us in a cloak of sorrow or pain, bringing us back to a time and place we’d rather not go back to, for one reason or another.

Other times, happily I think most times, the places we go in our mind are…

…the places we want to be and in the company of people we want to be with.

This is where I went today, when the toy box opened…with thoughts of long candy counters and a shop owner with the patience God gives older folk…

It sits there still, where it always did.

Across the road from my where my grandparent’s lived, and up two from where I did.

One of two one-room shops in our town of less than…

where one holds the memories of a barrels of chocolate drops, returning bottles for a penny, wood smoke, and men laughing.

while the other is made of children’s dares and double dares to see who’ll go buy the ice cream from the ‘mean old lady’ behind the counter.

And this is who joined me in today’s trip…Gramp in his engineer’s cap and Gram looking the same as everyday I can remember.

And though this is where they are now…

Their permanent home is here…always here…

I thank Tink and her Crazy Train for the ride today. It was welcome and reminded me that I have enough in my heart and my mind to get me through whatever life wants to throw my way.

And maybe someday, when he’s older or I’m gone, this one will hear or see or smell something, some small thing, that will take him back to a time when he knew he was cherished.