Category: inspiration

Day fifteen

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To be honest this took actual thought. Quite a bit of thought.  Not much really irritates me…I am something of an easygoing person.  I even asked those who know me best to get a feel for what I would be perceived as having as a pet peeve.  My daughter figures my pet peeve (once I explained the term ) was her misbehaving and disrespecting me. I really don’t think of her random teenage moments (as she is actually a really good kid) as being worth counting as my pet peeve.  I am just her mother.  That means I hide the amusement when she is acting as stubborn as she does.  My boyfriend of twenty years just I don’t knowed at me….so I must not really have one that stands out to him. My sister told me it was stupid people. Okay uhm…yeah.  I really have issues with those who are purposely ignorant or hurtful. So my pet peeves list is a total of one… that’s not bad. 
                 What’s yours?  And why?

Crack the Cookie — Witches Of The Craft®

via Crack the Cookie — Witches Of The Craft®

Day twelve

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This really depends on my state of mind and how tired I am. When I am exhausted and in the sleep deprived silliness… Penis is the funniest word. Otherwise it really is more about context. Any word placed properly can be funny. Although I admit my humor is often very juvenile… uranus is able to elicit more snickers than I care to admit.

Day ten

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                 MANGO! It is stringy and tart. Generally it is overused and no where as good as other citrus options.

Day Seven

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              I have four.  A pentacle,  a blue rose piercing through a heart, a faery, a blue rose with an infinity symbol surrounding it’s stem.
                    They each have meaning.  Although in truth each of the tattoos were chosen merely because I liked them. Nothing more or less than that.
                      The pentacle is a symbol of protection.  It banishes the negative.  My tattoo artist was a high priest,  and as he finished the circle,  he blessed it.
                      The faery is a symbol of nature and of belief in the fantastic.  Mine is faded and nearly nothing but her wings and toadstool remains.
                      The blue rose is a symbol of death. Which is also a beautiful sign of life. The one that pierces a heart was my first tattoo.  I have wanted it since i was fifteen.
The other one is supposed to symbolize infinite hope.

Day two…only slightly late

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               My earliest memory is of a place. When I was three my mother and I moved to a small town in Greenbriar county, West Virginia. I Remember the farmhouse we lived in. It was brown and had a beautiful porch on it. Though the memory is hazy of the house,  I really remember the yard. It had a green hill on one side and lots of trees to the other.  There was ramps growing wild on the hill. And honeysuckle near the house. The lady who owned the house was plump and beautiful.  She insisted I call her grandma. She taught mama how to cook and treated us like family. 

Emotional secrets

                 Here recently I accused someone I love of having secrets from me. It caused a fight. I wasn’t saying in a cheating sort of way,  and I was right. He was hiding his misery.  Each of us do this.  We tell only part of our lives because we don’t want to be seen as weak or wanting.  We all want to be strong,  if nothing else as an illusion to ourselves. It is truly in human nature. We expect those around us to see what is bothering us,  and are often disappointed when no one does. 
                   Our minds are mazes that we even occasionally have trouble navigating. Add in the mental mazes that exist in those we love,  And that is where confusion lies. What makes relationships work, all sorts of relationships,  is a truly open line of communication.  Trust and honesty make for strong and lasting relationships.
              So next time you feel doubt as to what someone feels or may be hiding, Ask… Don’t accuse. It may make all the difference.

Waken and weep

Sleep is a dangerous thing
Hidden from me yet again.
Elusive as a butterfly
Once caught on the wind,
Drifting endlessly away.

Stress and worry
Steals easily,
Peace of mind
Leaking away
Like water through
A broken pipe.

Even when reached
No guarantee of peace
In the ever elusive sleep,
For sometimes all that occurs
Is merely to waken…
Waken and weep.

R.I.P. to so many

So many bright
Flickering pinpricks
Of brightly shining lights.
Just this year have quietly
Been doused into the
Darkness of the ever after.

For them eternity has begun,
But for those who remain? 
More and more of this drizzling
Grim and lonely rain.

For just a moment,
The light of their talent
Allowed us reprieve
From the pain.

Off to the eternal
So many this year.
Leaving only
To shed a tear.

R.I.P. Chyna

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                    I Grew up watching wrestling.  I was basically the only girl among a house full of boys.  And though I enjoyed wrestling…. you were what caused me to love it. To look forward to it. For you were equal to the men. You were strong and beautiful… you had an intelligence that was far more than was expected in your profession. Please may you rest in peace,  for your light will truly be missed here.