From Root to Tip

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tree

(image credit: photo.net)

We are an eclectic band of misfits. Each branch of my family tree is twisted and unique. But life in my forest has been full of adventure and laughter. From the moment our family tree took root it was nourished by humor, surrounded by love and encouraged to branch out in any direction it was drawn towards.

The apples that fall from that tree do not stray far and we enjoy the camaraderie that only like-minded semi-delusional people can share.  We are nuts but we are family.

I had recently told a tale, based solely in fact, about how my brother tricked me into eating a petrified piece of dog excrement when I was only five years old. Although I was traumatized as a child, I can now see the humor in the “incident”. Perhaps that humor comes with the foreshadowing of future revenge but we are family and it is divine to forgive. (nobody said anything about forget)

It is my brother’s birthday today. I awoke thinking of this day as his pilgrimage into his 50th year. The common lines of the happy birthday song didn’t seem to do justice to our relationship and this new version flooded my brain at 7:00 am.

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you.

You’re one terrific brother,

but you made me eat poo.

I can only hope he finds as much humor and enjoyment in our gnarled family tree as I do. From root to tip we are certainly an odd bunch, but I wouldn’t want to hang from any other tree!

Happy birthday Jamie!! Love you.  xx

 

 

The Miracle of Life

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Winter seemed reluctant to release its hold

as the Earth yearned to welcome Spring.

The sun’s rays massaged the ground and the trees.

A warm breeze whispered,

playfully tickling the branches on its journey.

The smell of wet soil rose to greet the morning

as the familiar songs of new life began to play

their symphony of rebirth.

For just a moment, I was an instrument in that orchestra.

The sun kissed my cheek,

as happy to see me as I was to feel its warm embrace.

I was comforted by its nurturing essence.

But Mother Nature’s heart is frozen,

her resolve, stoic.

Her icy talons hold Spring hostage in their death grip,

encasing it in a cold and lifeless womb.

The new blanket of snow

wrapped so tightly, ceasing the flow of life,

suffocating the season.

But at the core of her being, she is a mother.

Her heart will fill with a need

to birth this new life,

to nurture it and watch it grow.

She will proudly watch Spring take those first steps

and her heart will warm once again.

~~

Written for the Speakeasy at Yeah Write.  I was more inspired by this prompt this morning after waking up to 8 cm of fresh snow!!  We were SO close to it all being gone.

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hang on — there’s rules:

  • Your post must be dated April 13, 2013, or later.
  • Submissions must be 750 words or fewer.
  • Submissions must be fiction or poetry.
  • You must include the following sentence as the FIRST line in your submission: “Winter seemed reluctant to release its hold.”
  • You must also include a reference to the media prompt.
  • The speakeasy is for submissions written specifically for the grid. Please don’t submit an entry if you intend to showcase it to another blog link-up. Such posts are deleted without notice.
  • Please don’t post long explanations before your post. We want your writing to be the star of the show. If you need to clarify anything, feel free to do so at the end.
  • The badge for your speakeasy #157 post is found in the sidebar. Add the code to the html/text view of your post before publishing.

And don’t forget to come back on Tuesday and add your link to the Inlinkz grid!

The Time Had Come – 100 Word Challenge

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As the sun sparkled on the water her paddle dipped purposefully into the lake.   With the skill of an avid enthusiast, her J-stroke carried her closer to her destination.

She could see smoke billowing from the chimney atop his cottage as she pictured his frame curled up in his chair, book in one hand and glass of wine in the other.  The sun continued its descent into the horizon and the hues speckling the water deepened in their intensity.

She could no longer pretend that her feelings hadn’t changed and he needed to know she was in love with him.

~~

(image credit: cottagelife.com)

Written for the 100 Word Challenge at Julia’s Place.

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I’ve been to the seaside for the week-end. Divine! So, your prompt this week is:

… as the sun sparkled on the water…

Please make sure you only use 100 words and put a link back to this post so that others can find us! If you are not sure what all this nonsense is about, do read ‘What is 100WCGU?’

The link will close on Sunday 20th April.

 

 

 

 

 

A few drops in the bucket

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Even if you don’t have one of your own, you’ve undoubtedly heard of “The Bucket List” concept.  It’s a list of things you want to accomplish before you leave this world.

Some people, like myself, err on the side of caution and have seemingly mundane ideas like writing a novel or meeting The Tenors (which I was able to cross off my list in December of 2013).  A friend of mine has a few crazier ideas and one of them is to get shot.  She is not seeking a fatal death-blow but she wants to be grazed by a bullet to understand the sensation.  Crazy?  Perhaps.  But regardless of the lunacy of its contents, a Bucket List is a worthwhile thing to have.

Life is short and thinking of the things you want to accomplish or participate in is a very grounding way of keeping motivated.  And it doesn’t have to be something you come up with when faced with the possibility of the end drawing near.  A Bucket List can be created to keep you stimulated to just live your life to the fullest.

Pure-Bliss-Yoga-bucket_list

(image credit: pureblissyoga.com)

That bucket can be a driving force in helping you succeed in the areas that you would never have previously challenged yourself.  You could decide to learn yoga, take a new course to expand your education, sleep under the stars or jump out of a perfectly good airplane. Your Bucket List is your own.  Nobody can tell you what to wish for and they certainly have no authority to coach you on how to achieve those goals.  Some may want to change the world and others just want to alter their own world.  There is no right or wrong.  You make the list, you create the rules, and it is entirely up to you to follow through and slowly cross the items off your list and fulfill the journey you created for yourself.

Whether that list is designed because the end of your life is looming closely or because you simply want to set some goals in your life…..see it through.  That list was created from a desire deep within yourself to see an idea to its conclusion. Just remember to keep filling that bucket and don’t ever let the passion that fueled the driving engine behind those bucket contents ever run out.

What’s in your bucket?

Gone but not forgotten – Gargleblaster

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I don’t see her the way I used to,

but every so often she is a shape in the clouds,

she is two leaves forming a pattern

or she is the warm air that lulls me into sleep.

Gone, but not forgotten.

~~

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This is my first submission for the Gargleblaster challenge.

Gargleblaster: this week’s ultimate question

Is everyone recovered from last week’s gargleblaster binge? Fabulous! Take a deep breath and get ready for the next round. This week’s ultimate question was provided by yeah write editor Michelle, who found it on page 42 of Broken Magic by author and yeah write alum Eric Sipple:

Do you see her much?

Let’s see how you answer this question in 42 words. Be creative!

There’s a moose loose in the hoose

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‘In the wee small hours of morning, when the whole wide world is fast asleep’ ~ David Mann

I, among many of the population on earth, need a solid night’s sleep – uninterrupted, pleasant, dream-filled, cozy under the covers sleep.  Until recently I had absolutely no trouble achieving this state of bliss, however an unsettling combination of extended winter weather and unwanted house guests has altered my sleep patterns.  No longer do I crawl under my duvet and let the weariness of the day pull down the blankets of my eyelids.  Gone are the nights that the vivid colors of my dreams paint my continually sleep filled nights.

Like an imperceptible alarm clock, disease-infested rodents descend into my walls at approximately 2:30 every morning.   As I lay in what should be my haven, I am disturbed by sounds that are amplified enough to make me think I have underestimated the size of these cute, furry little creatures.  With an imagination as over-active as mine I picture a sentinel of unearthly mutations methodically surrounding their acquired target. Their tyrannical approach into my home has left me reaching into my arsenal for a full on war.

Akin to a good soldier, I have adapted to my situation with weapons that I have on hand.  There is no delay when you are under attack from a known enemy who can wreak absolute havoc in an otherwise stable environment.  My walls are my fortress.  My house is my oasis.  The gnawing sounds coming from inside my home in those wee hours are my motivation.  These adorable looking vermin have threatened to devastate the structure and integrity of my humble abode and I am a woman scorned.

mouse

 

(image credit: en.wikipedia.org)

Human nature dictates that we all yearn most for what we cannot have.  I  retain my defensive stance in this fight and vow to achieve what I yearn for – that unadulterated, all-encompassing feeling of being swallowed into a vast sea of dreams.  As I imagine just a small rind of an orange sun on the horizon of my sleep, I will be awaiting the moment that the canvas of my night will be splashed in a new landscape of color. Au revoir, rodents!!

Me, myself and I

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“If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.”
Jean-Paul Sartre

~~~

It is a terrible thing to have to admit I still have the winter blahs in April.  The ground is still laden with mud-speckled snow, the mercury is still dipping below zero at night and, although the sun is trying to warm the earth, winter still has its death grip on spring.

Perhaps the overwhelming winter weather and extended season has been the cause for my hermit-like habits over the last five months.  Or perhaps with each calendar year that passes I am less excited about dressing in less than comfortable clothing and venturing out to brave the elements.  Regardless of the reason, the majority of my evenings are spent at home enjoying my own company.  Callaway is always there with me, but her conversation skills are still somewhat lacking.

hermit

(image credit: alpinequest.com)

I am a big fan of spending time at home.  I have no trouble passing the endless hours of those cold winter nights because I am comfortable enough in my own skin to enjoy the time alone.  My neighbors are close enough if I ever need help, but at enough of a distance that my sanctuary can still remain tranquil and remote.

In the summer, when the resort is in full swing and there are over 100 people on the property at any given time, it is comforting to know that I will find that same solace within my four walls or ensconced in my gazebo when I go home.  The many leaves that grow create a canopy of shelter so I feel even more hidden than before.  It is true bliss.

Spending that time alone helps me refuel and prepare for the barrage of stimulation I encounter when I leave the sanctity of my shelter.  Sometimes solitude, for me, can be the best companion.

How do you feel about spending time alone?

 

 

 

One more orbit for this girl

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I “borrowed” much of this post from last year on this very day because new words would not come today.

Today is an important day in my life…..today I am acutely aware of the number of years I have been on this ever revolving planet.  A birthday is not a number to me but a moment to celebrate the day I entered this life. (and it’s 45, but I still feel 29 so that counts, right?…..right?)

Today, however, is a difficult birthday.  This is my first birthday in 45 years that my mom hasn’t been the first one to call me in the early hours of the day with birthday wishes.  I did awake at 12:11 this morning and could have sworn I saw my mom and dad standing side by side.  No words were spoken but I guess they were the first to wish me happy birthday in their own way.

I celebrate with many people, some I know well, some I’ve never met, but there is one important celebration that mirrors mine – my Winnie The Pooh.  My mom created a stuffed version of the beloved character for me when I turned one and, to this day, I still have that somewhat tattered foam-filled creature.  McCall’s created a Disney series of patterns in the 1960’s that she duplicated for my brother for his first birthday and again, almost four years later, for my birthday.

He has seen his share of joys and tragedies.  He has undergone facial reconstruction and some botched plastic surgery (thanks to an over-excitable Labrador Retriever that belonged to a roommate) but he still never fails to hang in there to share year after year with me. He and I have weathered many successes and many ominous periods together, but he still remains the same source of comfort he has always been.

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Although it may seem somewhat childish to hang onto a toy that I have long outgrown, Winnie still holds an immeasurable value in my life. He represents a part of my childhood that I hold dear and he continues to represent the faith that I hold in my friendships.  He and I may not be able to communicate on the level that is deemed normal for friends but I still feel comfortable confiding in him, knowing that he will always be there to listen when I need him.

He has been a valuable part of my grieving process over the last three weeks and has found his way back into that comfortable position, tucked into the crook of my arm while I sleep.

Happy birthday Winnie…..may we continue on our journey and have a very long life together!!

Night breezes seem to whisper

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Dreams

(image credit: panktimehta.blogspot.com)

I have always been fortunate when it comes to dreaming. Not only do I have very vivid dreams splashed with a vast array of colors but I also retain most of my dreams in my waking moments.  Last night was no exception to those rules.

Last night I dreamed of my mom.  It is not the first time she has been in my dreams since she passed a couple of weeks ago but this dream was the first time that she was the main character in the night-time production of my subconscious.  During the wee hours of my REM sleep we were able to have a conversation.

In the bizarre circumstances of my dream she had already passed away but when I was the only other person in the room she would become magically reanimated and we would talk at great length.  When others entered the room she remained still, not a word escaped from her lips.  When I awoke this morning, rather than feeling perplexed I felt deeply comforted and peaceful.  I don’t recall many of the words she uttered to me in my sleep but I do feel a great sense of warmth and a feeling of relief that she is content on the other side.  She no longer carries the chains of the physical limitations she endured with her illness and, finally, she truly feels fine.

Have you ever received messages in your dreams?

 

 

Last Trifecta

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A chorus of silent voices,

joining in harmony around the globe.

Embracing passion,

creating relationships,

making friends.

We placed a bet on the Trifecta,

wagered everything we had.

We all came in first.

trifecta

~~

(image credit: trifectawritingchallenge.com)

Written for the last ever Trifecta challenge – 33 words of our own choosing.  It saddens me that the doors to the Trifecta lounge will be closing but I am thankful for the friends I have made in that lounge.  Thank you to the creators of Trifecta for giving us the opportunity to hone our skills and choose our words wisely.  And thank you for creating a community that will live on in our newly developed friendships.