Just me!

All I thought today is to let you see the best of me. To show you the many smiles that I’ve found. There are too many smiles now. But I’ve put together just a few of my very favorite smiles in the year (or two) in review.

You may see that my life is full of family and I want to share my thanks to you all for sharing my many faces of joy. The girls have defiantly put a permanent smile and I would like them to have some to remember me by. Included in the pictures is our trip up the coast in our yellow car! This too is the year for the races! I love them and it shows in the great fun I’ve been having.

Every day of my life is full of wondrous adventures from a simple day at work to lying around the house. I can count my blessings and thank them all. I am so loved and wanted to show it. So for a simple blog pictures speak volumes. Here are a few of my favorite days!

Blog Memory for the Twins

I just heard you were coming. Like a Christmas treat in summer. When first I heard it was August 5, 2006. That’s right! Way before your coming. You were hailed with a gift for your grandma and grandpa of a little pink and blue bib. I thought then the last week before your announcement that you were coming. I kept my thoughts with a silent smile laughing a sly giggle all the way to see the family that day. We were so excited and happy! We waited for you and your spirit for a very long time. Last night I could not sleep. And I thought of the many times I’ll have to share with you. I feel full in hopes of sharing my days with you. I’ve decided to write to you now so you would be sure that you will get to know about your grandma and grandpa.

I will be making you a place here in our home so you’ll always know your welcome and at home. You’ll have a room with bright colors of yellow and sunlight for the grandest room in our home. Making plans for us to grow up together. I’ll be telling you in this journal about your grandma and grandpa. So much is new so today is just a small introduction. These will be your first words with your grand folks in the desert.

We do not feel old and we feel very much alive. We just bought a yellow sports car last week. We plan to take many road trips to see the sights of the country. We also work very hard and long hours. We’re 53 right now and it’s the middle of summer. We won’t do much in the summer heat but we will start our home decorating this fall.

Next week we’ll be going to visit your Mom and Dad to hear your first concert. Los Lonley Boys. I have planed on bringing with me a gift for your parents and a crochet blanket for you.
You will find me here writing from time to time. When I’m happy, moody, or sad and I’ll bring to you stories of us and our lives of future and past. I’m so glad your coming!

Time to Wake, Time to Write

What’s more to the point I’ve been way too distracted to write. It seems like yesterday the busy days of life piling together one on top of another. The weather… The Sun… The Heat one day… than it turns blistering cold. Way to cold for the desert. But here I am. Work, sleep, get up and do it all over again. Time to write time to think, but nothing ever gets done. It’s like trying to clean out a junk box, not knowing where to start. But oh, I want to finish. Finish fixing my house, painting, cleaning. Must start some where and here is ware it starts, one day, at a time. But always I’m rambling, between the days resting, playing, mostly TV brain. It seems the older you get the slower you are. Now here comes the push. Do we dare? I want to hurry. Hurry for the future! It’s coming. I think of all the possibilities. But I do fear all the days, the news, the fear of the Global conflict. Yes and Global warming. The endless mendacity of corruption of the government dare I say it, enough said! Life turns and all I want is one day at a time to get through the fear, the sadness, and reach for the good days.

So… time to write, time to listen. To me! I seem to have a new plan ahead of me a great wakening. Although it seems like I’m reaching for a brass ring trying to catch it as I go by on a Marry go round. Always out of reach. It’s a new year and a new future waiting. Lots of plans so large I’ll just have to take it as it comes. Here comes box cleaning time. Step one: Write as often as I can. Step two: write everything! Step three: write more poetry. I love that! I’ve decided to take that one day at a time and update you all when I can. About my life and my future now on to the news cast the daily stuff. Much time has passed though just a year I must tell you what has lead my path to this day.

Time slips by way to fast that I want to give it a place to be remembered for all time, in the journal. Since I last wrote everyday was the same work week with a few sparks of fun between them. They were made all the best for spending them all being near and dear to my husband’s heart. I love doing things, making things. Most of all I like taking road trips. So this summer I made some Afghans, went to lots of movies, we even went to some summer concerts. That was fun! This fall we took our road trip in our new sports car now that was fun. We took a drive up the coast to San Francisco. We beat the rainy weather by a day then found our way inland to the redwoods. It was all too relaxing. We came back just in time to spend Thanks Giving with our daughter and her family. Now here… I’m really rushing. I did not explain the meaning for all this gibberish.
In August we were greatly pleased and surprised by the excitement of our Daughter having a baby she is going to have twin girls. So here is my wandering writer’s dream. The children! As any mother would know, is that life is so complete with children’s memories. And our hearts are full. I don’t want to talk of the sad times. But I would like you to understand that always my heart and memories are there in my children’s faces. I still dream of those days. There it comes, the sadness that was my loss, when my Son left to heaven, so did a piece of me. Here comes the happy days again! It is time to be full, time to enjoy, time to make memories, and give peace to those who have gone before us. Wake up you sleepy head shake it up! Tomorrow is a new day, a page not written, waiting for a memory to make real. And the story continues… Day One:

Cool Blue

I find in the quite times of the morning are the very best for writing. It is a time for peace, and solace, when I write. But most of all I find the best words come from the moment I see. The words can never come close to the feeling of that moment. My mind expresses the thought. I find it hard to recapture by the time I am able to place it on paper. I wish I had a recorder in my thoughts. When I see, the dream starts its trail. The words come pouring out as if a spring of water.

How hard it seems to capture, like slipping blades of grass through my fingers. How to stop time? So I may remind the viewer of the beauty of the sight. It’s like trying to describe color to the blind. You just can’t place a word to that. By the time you find the words, it has lost way along the path. So in my time that I chose to write I must place each word carefully. For time is fleeting and in that very moment I write all is but forgotten. Time now to remember and write. Piecing words like a puzzle hoping to find the right fit.

Truth can be the only glue to be used. So this is why I’ve decided to make this journal. So that I could write and remember that by writing and only then can you stay on the path to your story. I’ve had writers block and when you write you must find the reason. Sometimes it is just a word. One word that keeps gnawing at your brain till you can find a sentence. That sentence is the meaning of the truth, the very reason for the moment. The truth comes in the telling of the story. Every page written must have a truth, a reason, a lesson to be learned. When I write I try to tell what I have seen, learned. So that in the quite of the mind between you and your alter self. You find your truth, a light that helps you through the day.

What brought me to this thought was yesterday morning. While I was driving to work I had that feeling again. I was looking into the first light of day. That is usually the best and most pristine time for me. All the time in the world seems to slow and I see moments as if hours. In that brief minute a feeling in my mind of words spring from that day. I felt a perfect thought. Chiles sparkled about me, like nerves trying to awake. I had been there before. And now I still try to reclaim that essence. It was there in the light before dawn. The weather had to be just right, and the sun had to be there at that precise moment in time. I took that snap shot and have it held in my memory.

The cool air, the silent stillness, I take you there. The sky was brighter then dawn should be. More still then a cloud could remain present. Cool I remember, not brisk, but the thought remained. It’s coming! No sunrise of filament rays to behold. Only the stillness of the gray blue sky filling with light. Cool was the word. Bright white, but dawn was far from sight. I remembered back when I was a small child. That cool silent morning.

I was in a car beside the road sleeping. I was the only one sturing with one eye open. That same sky. I remember. It was all mine!
So this is my thought. What light breaks the morning sky? That is mine to behold. It is my peace. It is my hope. That in all the day there is no better sight than that of my bright waking hour. All mine, sacred to my soul. I was the master of my heaven. I knew that I had meaning in life. Though I know the day will be long, hard, and full of hardship. I will always have my soul, and the clear white light. Cool blue to remember that I’m alive in the world. And I have one Cool soul of mind that is mine.

A Letter For Dad

A Letter to Dad,

Today’s a day for thinking, reflecting. When I remember all the times you were there, for me. Deep down inside I knew I wanted to have you be proud of me. I looked for you every day, looking up to you. I did what I was told when I was a child so long ago. Silent, I kept the special me inside. I looked to you for the paths I would take when I was growing strong. For the guidance I would need when the world would fail me. When the world was full of such dangerous creatures in the night I was in fear those days. A word or two from you was all I ever wanted.

I think back, far back, when you were young. I was so tiny against your world. Thinking back it was the day you took me to the park that stays with me every day. That day I remember thinking, “Look here’s my Dad. He’ll take good care of me.” I watched as I put my small fingers out to feed the ducks. Thinking, I must remember this day. I was daddy’s little girl that day, I was three. Bright and shinny my face was, as you held me close to you.

You gave me hope that day. And I took it with me every day as the world grew too large for me. I looked to the books on the wall the gift you gave us all. And dreamt of worlds I would conquer. Places I would go, and I was there, trapped in the pages. I knew then I would write. Finding the words was not so easy though. Time passes to quickly and now the words have all faded from view. But today the words are mine. And deep inside there are the stories I write.

So here is my gift in return. Thanks for giving me a path, a world of books, and the words, to find my way. Although our paths have never been the same, the words I write today would have the meaning of thought and love behind them. I have a great deal of respect for you, and all you could give. I’m so glad these days to spend my time with you, in your world and mine. Although the days are short, and time moves to quickly I still remember all the days you were there in my life. Greater still to be left with the knowledge you sought to share. It is your love that is in my world. And your words are in my heart! I’m proud of you dad! I’m looking forward to the days to remember, tomorrow. Happy Fathers Day,

Being A Woman

When I think about being a woman, it is that we are brave, proud, and we endure. It is the never ending task of sharing. We share our families, our lives, and ourselves. To each day we bring to life the light a in our eyes. With daily tasks we work unceasingly. Never complain. Never tire. Never question. And in the end of the day, when the family is put to bed, we stay vigilant over their bedside. We are the guardians of the spirit. We are the caretakers of our children. We are the ladies, who share our thoughts with our beloved. We are the women, who look into our parents eyes.

But who defines us. Who are we without those who keep our spirits lifted? We are one, sisters all, we are only the moms, wives, and daughters. Our demeanor is quite and mild, shy and soft. We do our best to be the most important lady of the day. All we ask is that your smile belongs to us. Your kindness leads us with tender care through the day. To describe ourselves we take all things to heart. So all we ask is to be by our side, loving us all the while.

We define who we are, by believing in our selves. It is the path we take. It is the less traveled path, but it has made all the difference. I wouldn’t have had it any other way... The trials and tribulations, life’s not easy. But we endure... Believe that we are unique in the world. Bright as a summer day, light as a rainbow. Shine stay bright! Stand now at the horizon and see yourself! Believe in who you are!

Finding My Muse

I suppose music is great. Even just to listen. But for me. I would find it to tempting to remember a verse from a song and write it into my piece. I do love to listen to music... preferably the Blues. Sometimes I may use the flavor of an old forgotten melody to post a phrase that would be noted to that memory. When I write however I like peace and quite.
To find my muse, before I write a word, a thought comes to me. Perhaps while driving, or looking at the horizon in the early morning. One word roams in my head. Then I take it to a place with a sentence. Sometimes that sentence, a subject will mull on me for weeks. Like a nag. I have to find a place for it to spill. Sometimes they are lost. But when I get to writing them down there they are. I have to have complete silence. Sometimes TV is ok. But to get interrupted is the worst. I rant and rave, in fear I will break the chain. Getting up in the middle of work. I will lose the scene of the word. Trying to find it again never seems the same. Still I make it through even with the constant irruptions. I’d write way into the wee hours of night or dusky morn. There I’d be tapping away at my Computer. Writing pen to paper. Well I never go there except to jot down a note or two for remembering that poem.
First thing is that I write for me. Something I know and love to take about.
Second I put it aside. Rewrite it.
Then read it as a third party looking into it as if the first time.
And ask myself. Does this piece mean anything to me? Or send a message to the reader?
Will the poem pass the test of time? Time meaning will all the clues to the puzzle still solve the answer in the end.
Then! Write again for you the reader. Who would be first to see a fresh page waiting to be read.
I hope that makes some sense. Find the muse. Write from the heart. Then Write again.