Waking up with the sun

Monday morning last I lay abed, so I could see the first rays of sun come through the windows of my bedroom.

Couple that with the birdsong in the trees just beyond my sill.

It doesn’t get any better than that.

The apartment manager called this room with seven tall windows the sunroom.  I call it the best bedroom I ever had.


Needing some positive thoughts right now.

Spinners, crazymakers. We all have a name for those people that go around in circles, making more out of every decision, chore, or upcoming life event than it merits.  As if the very act of circling it will somehow get it done sooner, more efficiently, or change its outcome.

Sometimes, we are those people.  We get a thought in our brain, we just can’t shake loose.  We go round and round in circles getting nowhere fast.

I’m usually a cut to the chase kind of person. I get things done while some people are still thinking about it.  I take all the bumps in the rode in stride, going over around or through,  and I just keep moving.

But as this minor knee surgery draws closer, my mind has taken on, well, a mind of its own.  I’m having to rein it in, write down several positive mantras to recite whenever those doom and gloom scenarios rear their ugly heads and try to play with my well-being.

There are times when I wish life came with a remote control, so I could fast-forward to the day after such life events relegating them to one more thing I’ve lived through.

This is one of those times.

— Thanks to authors: Rhonda Byrne (The Secret, The magic), Joseph Murphy (The Power of Your Subconscious Mind), and Wayne Dyer’s PBS special, I Am.

Some things are meant to burn.

My candles are lit, as I celebrate the turning of the wheel of life, and greet Persephone as she ascends from the dark lord’s keep.  It’s time to welcome spring with small ritual.

I don’t understand people who buy gorgeous candles and never light them.  What’s the point?  I remember a gathering at Thanksgiving dinner a year or so back, we gathered at table and after in the living room.  There were lovely candles on the table in candelabra, and a lovely arrangement on the ornate coffee table complete with large candles.

I asked who was going to light the candles, and was politely told. “Oh no, we never light the good ones.  They’re just for looks.”  I was astonished, but as a good guest asked no further.

Can a candle be called a candle if it’s never allowed to burn brightly. I don’t believe so.


It’s getting green out there.

It’s getting green.  Spring speaks of rebirth a renewal of things after the long dark sleep of winter:

The small determined shoots of grass spring from brown lawns. 

The small lace of green leaves grace once barren boughs.

The azaleas bloom gloriously at the top of my stairs. 

Camus can have his invincible summer; give me spring. 


RIP my dear friend Snoopy

Joyce Norman’s Writing mini seminar.  3/17/12 – Writing prompt
Write a eulogy for a favorite Comic Strip or Cartoon Character.

Here’s Mine

The dark and story night he had written of so often got him Tuesday last.  While our dear friend Snoopy sat atop his doghouse rooftop typing away, the clouds crept in unseen in the dark night, and a stray bolt of lightening took that sweet Beagle from us forever.

He didn’t just write on the page.  He was want to entertain us with his flights of fancy by acting out his stories.

Who can forget Joe Cool with dark beat glasses and insouciant attitude, or the WWI flying ace taking on the red scarf flying out behind his determined countenance with aviator goggles pulled tight.

He was a friend to the peanuts gang as well as the feathered flock of Woodstock.

He was a friend o mine as well.

I shall miss him dearly – no more stories, only good memories.

I am gladdened that if he had to go, he went out in style – atop his rooftop banging away at the keys on a dark and stormy and night

Spring Forward

One moment  it was 11:15 p.m. on a Saturday night, and in the next, it is 12:15 a.m. Sunday morning.  I moved my few clocks forward, so I wouldn’t forget later at bed and oversleep on the morrow

I usually go to bed at midnight, but regardless of what the clock says, my head knows it’s not really midnight yet, and so it will be an hour or so before I slip between the covers and finally douse the lights.

Strange thing, time.  There are days that pass in the time it takes for an ordinary three, and others pass in the seeming blink of an eye.

But, as we have only the clock to tell the time by, there’s no real way to prove how interminably longer one day is from the other. I’m reminded of Einstein’s train, and some days I feel as if I’m on on that train and holding on for dear life.


Tune out the noise and tune in to you

If I can offer you one thing to add to your resolutions, it is this.  Keep a journal.

Once a day, put pen to page and write whatever comes to mind, what you are grateful for, what bothers you, what you want from days to come.  Turn off all the outside noise: TV, phone, radio, ipod, computer, etc.

Tune in to you.  Take a little time to have a conversation with yourself. 

Go back and read what you have written and get a little insight into this unique person that is you – you might surprise and amaze yourself at who you really are. 

Me and My Shadow.

As a child I watched my shadow with awe

after reading My Shadow.

I wondered if it was an entity

just a little separate from me.

I’d turn quickly to see if she

was doing something different

instead of just mimicking me.


Never caught her in the act

Did You Vote?

Did you Vote?  Our right, our freedom to vote, comes with the responsibility to vote. 

I hope today you exercised:

Your Responsibility

Your Right

Your Freedom

To participate in the process of choosing the people that govern us, make and enforce our laws.  These things were hard fought and long in the making of what they are today.

“The history of voting in the United States has not been characterized by a smooth and inexorable progress toward universal political participation. It has instead been much messier, littered with periods of both expansion and retraction of the franchise with respect to many groups of potential voters.” Grant M. Hayden, Hofstra University law professor in the Oxford Companion to American Law.

There were fewer opportunities to exercise the right to vote in colonial America. The English king appointed most governors, though there were exceptions.

Typically, white, male property owners twenty-one or older could vote. Some colonists not only accepted these restrictions but also opposed broadening the franchise. Duke University professor Alexander Keyssar wrote in The Right to Vote: The Contested History of Democracy in the United States:  Some colonies required a voter to own a certain amount of land or land of a specified value. Others required personal property of a certain value, or payment of a certain amount of taxes.

John Adams wrote in 1776 that no good could come from enfranchising more Americans:

“Depend upon it, Sir, it is dangerous to open so fruitful a source of controversy and altercation as would be opened by attempting to alter the qualifications of voters; there will be no end to it. New claims will arise; women will demand the vote; lads from 12 to 21 will think their rights not enough attended to; and every man who has not a farthing, will demand an equal voice with any other, in all acts of state. It tends to confound and destroy all distinctions, and prostrate all ranks to one common level.”

Benjamin Franklin lampooned them when he wrote: “Today a man owns a jackass worth 50 dollars and he is entitled to vote; but before the next election the jackass dies. The man in the mean time has become more experienced, his knowledge of the principles of government, and his acquaintance with mankind, are more extensive, and he is therefore better qualified to make a proper selection of rulers—but the jackass is dead and the man cannot vote. Now gentlemen, pray inform me, in whom is the right of suffrage? In the man or in the jackass? “

Property restrictions gradually disappeared and the 15th Amendment in 1870 enfranchised black men, followed in 1920 by the 19th Amendment which enfranchised women.

These amendments were hard fought and won and we should appreciate the freedom they give us to make choices for ourselves and our country.


Shattered beyond Repair

Sometimes relationships, like things, break beyond repair.  I asked for a sign, and a favored cup that I cherish and drink from daily slipped from my grasp and as if in slow motion, it fell, shattered and strew itself across the floor.

My answer was simple.  Yes, it is broken beyond repair.  Sweep up the shards and toss them out with all the other refuse of  living.  Move on, find a new one.  This life’s too brief to mourn what was, and miss what is yet to be.  I’m moving on, looking forward not back.

It was a sad realization, but a necessary step in my evolution.  A shattered relationship, like the shattered cup needs be discarded.  Like Humpty Dumpty, not all the kings men…, nor I, with any amount of glue or care, can put it back together again.

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