Each labored breath means he is still here with us.
Each gaze makes me wonder what he thinks.
Each beeping machine reminds us he is vital.
Each passing moment,
Held tightly in my heart.
My dad is fighting for his life after a bad fall. And the rest of the world has fallen away as life has become all about just being here for him and with him.
Why do you need to be right?
Why do I need to be right?
Why can’t we both just be?
Our truth of today
Is not our truth of yesterday,
Nor will it be our truth of tomorrow,
So why argue it so vehemently?
Look inside yourself.
Life changes us along the way.
We know this to be true if we face ourselves with honesty.
But sometimes it’s easier to perpetuate the lie.
Because, in facing the truth,
We need to look in the mirror
And say to ourselves
“I was wrong.”
photo credit: h.koppdelaney via photopin cc
This morning, after walking on my treadmill, there was a break in the rain.
I stepped outside, barefoot, and stood looking into my woods.
Just breathing. Connected to the earth and sky. Being thankful. Taking in the autumn beauty. At peace.
As I looked up to the top of the tree in front of me, a leaf released itself and danced it’s way down to the ground.
It was a dance. A flying dance of freedom back to the earth that gave birth to that tree and nourishes it through the seasons. Through times of leaves falling and times of leaves re-emerging.
And that single leaf floated back to the ground to become nutrient soil again. For next year’s leaves.
I looked back into my woods and saw oh so many leaves dancing their way to the ground.
I’m sure there are many metaphors in this. But I’m not going to try and find them. Instead…
Go. Stand under a tree. And let them find you.
photo credit: Nick Kenrick. via photopin cc
Just a little bit of silliness….
I want to start a petition. A petition to Webster’s Dictionary or the dictionary gods that be, to reverse the definitions of lose and loose. I’d go after the founders of the English language, but they’re long gone. And who were they, anyway, and what were they smoking?
Does anybody besides me mix up these two words when writing them? (I know you do, and you should sign my petition.)
Think about it. Just say the word loose, as in “the dog got loose from it’s chain.”
Now say to word lose. As in, “I hate it when I lose my keys.”
Now say them one after another. Which one is drawn out, like the mooooooo of a cow?
Lose is, that’s which one. And it only has one “o.” While loose has two. Does that make any sense? Shouldn’t the word that draws out the “o” sound have more “o”s in the spelling?
Yes! It should! It would be more logical, and would result in less spelling mistakes.
I know you agree with me. As soon as I write up my petition, I’ll be asking you to sign it. Or, you could let me know you agree in the comments, below.
I’m not sure where I got this recipe – so I apologize in advance for the plagiarism- but I wanted to share it because regular oatmeal is so blah for me, now. This is my favorite cold-weather breakfast! And it makes enough for at least 3 breakfasts (3-4 cups).
- 1 3/4 cup water
- 1 cup old-fashioned oats
- 1/2 cup raisins (use organic, please)
- 1/4 tsp coriander
- 1 banana, sliced
- 1 cup chopped or grated apple or apple sauce (use organic, please) – I just chop up 1 whole apple
In a saucepan, bring the water and salt to a boil and stir in all the above. Simmer, uncovered, for 5 minutes.
Then stir in:
- 1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries (use organic, please)
- 2 tblsp ground flax seed
Cover and let sit for 2-3 minutes.
You were born one of a kind,
here for a reason,
The world tried to make you
just like them,
But you don’t, do you?
I know just how it is.
You walk around pretending,
all the while wondering
why this world feels
But it’s not this whole world.
Because you feel at home
with the animals,
and the people who,
know that most of the world
got the story wrong.
What do you do when…
Your feelings need to get out,
Your thoughts are milling about,
All. You. Want. To. Do. Is. Shout!?
What do you do when…
Problems seem so strong,
Everything feels so wrong,
The day is oh…soooooo…long?
What do you do when…
Your emotions are running high,
Your reserves are running dry,
You wonder why oh why?
I’ll tell you what I do….
photo credit: Lívia Cristina via photopin cc
This post may not be popular, not at all. But I want you to think about what I am about to say….
Every time September 11th rolls around I cringe. Seriously, I want to curl up and hibernate until it is over. And for the few days leading up and following it.
Because I don’t want to remember that day. It was a horrible day. I really don’t need to say anymore. We all know.
Lives were lost. Heroes were made. It was a day that probably changed most of us forever. But why do we want to relive those feelings every year? It doesn’t change the events. It just brings us sadness.
Why do we choose to remember bad stuff? I feel the same about people’s death anniversaries. Why remember a day that was so very sad? Why not remember all the days they were with us rather than the day they were taken away?
When we focus on things we give them power. Let’s not bring up the pain of the past. Let’s leave it there, where it belongs. A moment we have lived. A turning point in our lives. A thing that hopefully made us love more, live more.
Let’s focus instead on bringing that love into the present day and our future, so we can heal the world from 911s.
Love and peace,
There’s a nest of hornets under my deck. They come back every year. This year, they nested right near the water spigot that I use to water my back gardens.
I’ve been gingerly turning on the water, moving slowly so as not to alarm, as they go in and out of the lattice work that blocks off the ugly under-deck.
Until two days ago. This past weekend Andy was working on the deck and got stung. He kept working there, assembling the beginnings of our pergola, but he told me “don’t make any loud banging noises!”
The dogs also got stung by nosing around near the nest.
The next day, as I stepped in gingerly to turn on the water, a small army of hornet guards flew forcefully out. I stepped back. Then I tried again. The next round of guards flew out at me.
Okay, okay. I got the message. I asked Andy what he thought we should do. He thought we should wait until the end of the season then take down the nest. I need to admit, I was starting to think “exterminator.” But I quickly dismissed that thought because I don’t want chemicals sprayed at my house (could they take it down another way?) and I did some research and found out hornets are predators for a lot of harmful pests in my garden.
So I figured I’d run a hose from the front of the house, through the garage, to the back. It’s only for another month, really, that I’ll need to water. Only before I did that, I decided to try late night and very early morning watering. That has seemed to work. The hornets are either in for the night or lazily flying in and out of the latticework as they used to.
We’ll warn anybody who is visiting about the nest. But we won’t try to take it down. Humans can live with nature instead of destroying it. We can use our brains to be resourceful and figure out how to deal with a less-than-ideal-for-us natural occurrence.
The hornets love it under our deck. Sure, I wish they’d nest elsewhere. But if that’s not to be, I welcome them to our home.