Category Archives: happiness

I’ll have hysterics with a side of dry pants please

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The weekly writing challenge immediately made me think of one photo and I scoured through my pictures to find it.  As you may notice from the stellar 70’s and early 80’s decor this picture was taken many years ago.  If I had to guess, I would say it was 1986 ish.

The challenge is this:  For this challenge, we want to see a photo of someone looking truly happy. Not “I’m-smiling-for-this-photo” happy, but really, deeply, twinkle-in-the-eyes happy. When we’re smiling a genuine smile, our whole faces get involved — our whole bodies, for that matter. There’s a light in our eyes. We look relaxed; there’s a forced tension in a fake smile.

Then we want to know why: what’s going on in the photo? What are you (or they) thinking about at the exact moment? (And if you really want to get into it: what happens next?)

My Nana used to think I was the biggest brat on the planet.  Hard to believe, I know, but that is a true story.  I was a high-spirited child with a penchant for making my presence known and I can see how, for adults, the novelty would have worn off quickly.  Thankfully as I evolved into a teenager and young adult I no longer felt the need to be the centre of attention and I climbed the rungs of my grandmothers favoritism ladder.

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This photo was taken during Christmas holidays.  Each festive season my grandparents would pack their car and make the pilgrimage north to enjoy the spectral portrait of our white Christmas.  Nana and I would spend hours in the kitchen cooking, baking and harmonizing to any Christmas Carol we could.  My dad would occasionally chime in and it became a three-part harmony and these moments became some of my fondest holiday memories.

After the casserole was in the oven, I left the kitchen to spend some time with my Grampa as he sat the recliner watching television.  My cat had decided that the recliner was the perfect post to sharpen his non-existent nails and began to rub his front paws on the side of head rest.  Grampa leaned around to see what was causing the movement to his chair and my cat stealthily, and with the grace of a fighter, smacked my grandfather in the face with his right paw hard enough to break his glasses.  Had there been a cartoon balloon hovering over my grandfather’s head it would have been filled with words similar to the descriptive fights in the old Batman comics.  Whap! Pow!  It was feline poetry in motion and my cat sauntered away, satisfied he had made his point.

As my grandfather slowly collected his mangled glasses from his lap, my giggles began.  I tried my best to control the laughter.  I knew Grampa was annoyed and my snickering was only going to add fuel to his fire.  I quickly made my way back to the kitchen to tell Nana what had happened and we laughed.  And we laughed some more.  We couldn’t seem to stop.  I replayed the assault in slow motion and we laughed harder.  Tears were streaming down my face and I had trouble catching my breath.  When the last of the giggles were wrung from my body my ribs ached and my eyes were swollen and bloodshot.  There was enough vision left in those ocular portals to see my Nana sneaking down the hallway to change her pants!!

I have many fond memories of visits with my grandparents before they left for the world they now inhabit.  I hope they remember this moment with as much fondness as I do. (at least I hope Nana does!)

Puppy love

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For all intents and purposes, my dog is my child.  She has been in my life for 5 1/2 years and has completely wrapped herself in my heart-strings.  Decisions I make are based on what would be best for her and how my decisions will affect her.  Since my divorce, I have not spent a night away from her – until last night.  I went to the city for a work function and left her at home.  My neighbor graciously agreed to come and tend to her needs but it was difficult leaving her behind.

I can only imagine how a parent feels leaving their child with a babysitter for the first time.  The feeling of anxiety was overwhelming as I drove out of my driveway.  My intuition assured me she would be fine, but my guilt kept prodding at that intuition and the inner struggle was awful.

The Guest Appreciation night was a great success, but several times during the evening I felt the pang of regret knowing she was home alone.  I’m sure she slept the whole time and enjoyed having the bed to herself but I could not disregard the fleeting moments that my brain was distracted by thoughts of my furry friend.  As I write this, I find it a little odd that my connection with my puppy dog is that strong but she has been my friend and confidant through many tumultuous times and I would be lost without her.

I awoke at 6:30 this morning and, as I always do, called her name.  When my bloodshot eyes focused on my surroundings I realized that I was in a hotel two hours away and I missed her.  Had I not been giving a ride home to two of my coworkers, I would have hastily thrown on my clothes and driven home at that moment.

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All is right in my world again.  I arrived home to her welcoming smile and an exuberant greeting and we have assumed our usual positions – me on the couch with my laptop and Callaway curled in a ball at my feet.

Do your pets have the same hold on you?  Or am I slowly going crazy?

All is fair in love and war

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The art of building and maintaining a relationship is a craft that is sometimes difficult to master.  There is a fine balance between debating and fighting and it is a balance that every couple has to find.

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(image courtesy of Google)

When they say all is fair in love and war, what they are really saying is – it has to be fair.  There are things everyone needs in their relationships and everyone’s needs are different.  You may need to feel supported or you may need to feel challenged, but everyone has a need.  It is up to you to figure out what your needs really are and, at the end of process, to be fair to your partner while fulfilling those needs.

I was talking to a good friend recently about what he needs and we talked about “the list” – taking the time to write the list of what is important to you in a relationship, what type of feedback matters to you and writing those needs on a piece of paper.  If you put those feelings out into the universe and let the world know what you need, it WILL find you.  And that is part of being fair to yourself.  Being fair to your partner comes as part and parcel of that relationship package.

It may seem trite, but if you can admit to yourself what is important to you, you have a much better chance of finding that partner that will possess all the things you need and will be fair in the love portion of your relationship as well as the war portion. Dialogue is crucial to a successful relationship.  That dialogue may be saturated with verbosity destined for a soap opera or it may be immersed in a battle fit for Judge Judy.  Regardless of the definition that banter needs to be suited to what you need in your life or it will never succeed as a relationship.

When you consider a potential partner, you need to assess what parts of love and what parts of war you require to make you content with that alliance. If you need that person to challenge your opinions, than find someone who will thrive on that debating process.  If you need to be supported and not challenged, than find a lover who will never second guess your intentions.  Ultimately you choose the person that is privileged enough to share your life.  Pick the piece that fits your puzzle.

What are the most important qualities you would put on your list?

I get by with a little help from my friends

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I have always been a very independent person. Even as a young child I would get angry when people tried to help me with things that were proving difficult for me. I seemed to get the sense, even at that tender stage of my life, that I was somehow failing if I couldn’t do it on my own.

Over the years I have been able to let some of that stubbornness go, not all of it, but enough to allow me to see how a helping hand can smooth the rough edges that I used to cut myself on repeatedly. As individuals, we are porous rocks. We are permeable and sometimes allow too many of the negative things in our life shape the person we become. We have bumps and impurities and we develop jagged edges to protect ourselves from unwanted encounters with anyone outside of our realm of comfort.

As we journey through life, we collect friends much like a beach collects grains of sand.  And akin to those grains of sand, our friends help smooth our rough edges.  They help transform that rough exterior and, with love and compassion, they help us to become more polished by eroding our jagged exterior and finding the beauty underneath.

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(image courtesy of Google)

My beach stretches for miles.   The many grains of sand that comprise my shore come in all shapes and sizes and although some stay close to me and some remain on the periphery of my seascape they are all equally important parts of that beach.  I try to take as many long walks as possible along my shorelines and appreciate each grain of friendship in my life.  And though I may not make it to the outer boundaries very often, know that each of you, near or far, have contributed to the beauty of my shoreline.

Those elusive birds

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The Daily Prompt today truly got me thinking….and on a Monday that is slightly painful.  The challenge today is this – Clichés become clichés for a reason. Tell us about the last time a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush for you.

bird in the hand

(image courtesy of Google)

This may be a reverse approach to this challenge, but this is where my brain took my words.

Truly appreciating what you have without looking at what better things may come along may be easier said than done.  There is always the outward pressure of ‘what if’ that will make us ponder the value of what we have now versus the value of what may lay beyond.

We take the risk of upsetting the balance in our lives, that sure thing, to forage the unknown.  And perhaps the excitement of the mysterious is part of the allure.  Perhaps the elusive birds in the bush hold the key to something we have not been able to realize with the bird in hand.

It’s lofty to dream, but as long as we don’t let greed cloud our vision, each of us will always have that feeling of wanderlust.  It’s how we choose to act on that feeling that is important, and so far, I have never let that voracity interrupt the path that I have chosen.

What does it taste like?

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The envelope stood alone in her mailbox, her lawyer’s name etched on the top corner.  The papers had come and it was finally over.

She headed to her favorite restaurant and bought a bottle of Cakebread Cabernet Sauvignon and brought the glass to her nose.  She could trace the hints of dark berries, Cassis and mocha.  The aroma penetrated her nose and she savored the scent.  When she finally let the glass brush her lips the wine spilled over her taste buds. It was heaven.

The bartender was curious and asked her, “What does it taste like?”

“It tastes like freedom.”

100 word challenge

This was written for the 100-Word Challenge at Julia’s Place.  I just stumbled on it, and I do love a challenge.

I’m sure the water is fine – Trifecta Challenge

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I’ve never been afraid of the water.  But perhaps after spending five years trying to calm the waves in my marriage I have been left with the slightest hesitation about diving back in.  Divorce can feel like a Tsunami, like the calm before the storm.  There is a sense of peace and strange tranquility and then the rush of emotion comes like a tidal wave engulfing everything in its path. And like the Tsunami, you know that wave is coming but it’s nearly impossible to get to a safe haven.

tsunami

(image courtesy of Google)

The dating pool, although seemingly non-threatening compared to the violent storm waves, beckons and standing on the edge of that pool is just as daunting as watching that tide surge forward.  The water may seem calm on the surface but the hidden dangers lie beneath that placid sheen and the potential for another storm gives me pause.  The slightest touch of the surface causes ripples and pushes me back from the edge of the pool.

I watch as the ripples dissipate.  The soft blue glow seems so inviting, but the dormant threat still lurks under the veil waiting to lure me closer to the edge, waiting to gently touch my skin and pull me under when I am blissfully unaware of the current below.  I can’t swim, not now.  Maybe sometime soon I will remember how wonderful it felt to float in that water, how comforting it was to be surrounded by its warmth and to feel buoyant.  Maybe soon, but not now.

I’m sure the water is fine, but I don’t think I’m ready yet to hold my breath and jump.  For now I’m content to sit on the edge of the pool and exhaust every argument in my head as to why I shouldn’t just take the plunge.

~

This was written for the Trifecta Challenge:
EXHAUST (transitive verb)
1a : to consume entirely : use up <exhausted our funds in a week>
b : to tire extremely or completely <exhausted by overwork>
c : to deprive of a valuable quality or constituent <exhaust a photographic developer>
2a : to draw off or let out completely
b : to empty by drawing off the contents; specifically : to create a vacuum in
3a : to consider or discuss (a subject) thoroughly or completely  

Please remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone.  Please join us.

Draped in his fabric

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Another post for Edward Hotspur’s Romantic Monday

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he covers me like a blanket

he wraps around my heart

as much as I pull and stretch his fabric

it never falls apart

he drapes over my shoulders

shielding me with his presence

warming every part of my being

comforting me with his essence

I fall into his softness

I feel safety in his shroud

I feel the heat beginning to burn

my murmurs breathed aloud

his touch rubs gently on my skin

every time is like the first

his voice falls like music on my ears

his groan a staccato burst

we lay together, wrapped again

his arms provide the veil

keeping me warm, keeping me safe

his blanket will never fail

 

Losing sight of what is important

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For all intents and purposes, I am a still somewhat of a virgin in the blogging world.  I started this journey in August and have been doing my best to stay true to what really means something to me.  But as it is in many cases, I felt somewhat lost along the way.  I spent a great portion of my time watching the stats on my blog instead of focusing on what was truly important – the honesty and sense of self in the words that I write.

I began this journey because of a deep yearning to free the ideas in my mind, to let loose the writing demon that was trapped in the confines of my cranial matter.  I spent my days off this past weekend utterly disconnected from the outside world.  I turned off my phone, ignored my television, refrained from playing any music and just lived in the silence.  And within that silence, I found my inner voice.  I connected with what it was that brought me to the blog world in the first place – the love of writing.  I finally allowed myself the chance to be what I desperately yearned to be – a writer.  Although there was no looming deadline and no urgency to put ideas on a page, I fervently followed a passion that has recently been rekindled.  I conceded to the power of the words so desperately trying to form themselves into ideas and let them paint the landscapes of my prose.

For me, watching the stats on my blog almost made me forget why I began this journey in the first place.  I don’t write for anybody other than myself.  That may sound like an extremely selfish statement, but it is based in pure truth.  I write because I want to, not because I feel pressured to write.  The fact that other people enjoy what I write makes me utterly ecstatic and urges me to continue along that path of creativity.  Throughout this journey I have met a great many people who not only share the same passion, but who are becoming friends in the process.  They are people who have found a forum to let their inner voices escape and meet in a place where they are not only accepted, but adored and applauded.

Losing sight of what is important to me may have momentarily altered my bigger picture, but spending a day listening to the writer in me brought me back to reality.  It refocused my yearning to write, if for nothing else, than to put words to a page and to connect with others who can translate my voice into their own words.

I had the rare opportunity to regain my vision and recapture what holds a true place in my heart.  My writing is my passion and I will never lose sight of that again.  The otters in the video below remind me that it is not about the people who are watching, it really is about getting back to the things that are truly important to us and forgetting what is happening in the world around us.  It is holding true to the things we value the most.

Something feathered, something blue

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It’s February – blah.  I shouldn’t complain too much about the weather since this past weekend was gorgeous, but now it’s Monday and the rain has been falling continually for a couple of hours.  Any of the beauty of yesterday has been washed away and the trees no longer seem to be stretching to reach the sun.  Their branches have resolved to reflect the mood of the weather and are hanging limply, not even attempting to fight the rain that saturates their bark.

I took these pictures on Saturday and wanted to post something uplifting to help me hold the memory of the sun that kissed my cheeks on the weekend and the canvas that the wind created in the sky by using soft bristles to paint the clouds.

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