Category: relationships

Day fifteen

image

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?

Day Eleven

image

                  I have been with my best friend for twenty years now.  He is alot of what keeps me sane.

Day three

image

                            My first love I believe was the same as most little girls,  my father.  He is a deep thinker.  An intelligent man. He taught me about honesty and diversity.  And he was the most handsome man I had ever met.
                                  My first kiss was when I was in second grade. He was in a extra curricular swimming class I was taking.  We were bused there. It was on the back of the bus. It was sweet and innocent.  I have truthfully forgotten everything else about him.  Still the sweetness of the moment remains.
       

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.

Ah ha moments

                 In life I try not to judge the people around me. For you never know what road they were forced to walk. Today for me that point was driven home by a conversation I had with a man I have always considered to be very strong.  He was telling me that his Stepmother had passed.  As one would expect of a woman in her eighties.  But when he spoke of her and indeed when he ever speaks of his father…. I hear a sadness there. I had always believed it was because of the distance between them.  Tonight I saw a lot of what was under there. I still think he is strong, but perhaps there’s a reason for the strength. Perhaps in seeing  the vulnerability in the ones we see as strong we can allow more in ourselves.  We try to hold ourselves,  I think,  to impossible standards. Many  end up depressed because of said impossible standards. So for today I will accept my vulnerable side. I will stop pretending that all i am always strong. How about you?

The voice of a rose

                    This is the second time I have tried to do this post. My Facebook friends list is filled with writer’s. I did that on purpose. I surrounded myself on social media with writer’s and artists and crafty people, so i no longer felt as alone. This morning, one of the writer’s, Author T L Grey, posed a question. As she posted two pictures with it…one of her (a truly lovely woman) and one of a soft white rose with pink edges….I doubt that she wanted the answer I gave her. The question?  “If a rose could speak,  what would it say?” My response?  “That it was dying and missed it’s bush. The loneliness was unbearable.” Well at first she responded Carpe diem. Then she changed it to read “Why be one of several upon a bush instead of singled out and appreciated in the small space of time in which to bloom? The bush will bloom more flowers but this one particular flower has only a small time in which to shine.” I found this as thought provoking as the original question,  and a bit telling.  So I responded…”While that is true, most do focus on the ways that they are different.  To their own detriment.  The question was what a rose would say. I have always thought it sad that to enjoy a flower we have to kill it. So i hear the sadness of it’s own imminent demise. I hear regret that the rose did not appreciate the beauty of being a part of the bush until the bush was no longer there.  Thus I hear loneliness.”
                       Now understand please that I do realize the fact that my response was slightly morbid. However her question wasn’t what we hear from the rose’s unique beauty. It wasn’t what does the rose symbolize.  So I spoke what I feel any living thing would feel as they die. Death is usually a morbid topic.
                    As to her statement about being just another on the bush? Well have you ever seen a rose bush up close?  No two roses are exactly alike.  So it is a riotous community of individuality. I lived in a place once with three bushes. They were amazing. I admit the question and resulting conversation was an inspiration for me. So i did what my weird little poetic heart does. I did another poem for my latest volume.  And because I can,  I am sharing it with you…..

The voice of a rose

The voice of the rose
Depends on the ear
That hears and it’s
point of view.

The choice of a
Listening heart,
As to hear such
As sadness, 
Adventure or
romantic speech.

None less valid,
Each in their own
Way right.

For why can
The voice of the rose
Not be as complex
as the Heart of man.

*her rose*

image

*I found this one on Google. *

image

Insomnia demons and insisting muses.

                         Okay,  i am often treated to bouts of insomnia.  The reasons vary. Often it is just not being able to quiet my busy mind. Last night was the first time in over a month. I am up to thirty three poems out of the seventy I do in each volume for Life drops. I will likely share later one from that. I spent some time writing on the d20 game world that I have created. Lots of details still to do on that one. Managed about two fifty on my steampunk story, and another hundred and fifty on my drow novel. Didn’t get to the others. Helped my sister’s faeries do some for their Facebook page. Shared what i found worthwhile to my author page,  to my shop page,  and to my personal page. Still felt like I should have gotten more done.  Didn’t get my crafts done yesterday.  Still my mind isn’t slowing.  Have cut way back on caffeine.  Limiting myself to two cups of coffee a week and pretty much no pop. Heck even my tea is mostly herbal anymore.  Still there are days when i can’t sleep.  I’m about to try again for st least a short nap.  So until I return…. may you sleep well and have only sweet dreams.

Silence is cruelty

               April is child abuse prevention  month.  So many of my friends, myself included,  are survivors. The thing about surviving is we mostly don’t talk about it. It becomes a dirty little thing that gets hidden because no one wants to hear the truth.  We get told to be quiet or told we are lying. This makes trying to heal all that much more problematic.  One of my friends is waiting to write her story until her mother dies. Simply because every time she tries to speak of what she went through,  her mother tells her not to. The man who molested me was allowed to harm others because when I finally stepped forward no one believed me. It took another to send him to jail. Another friend worries about her son as his father molested him, and was court ordered visiting rights.  Speaking up only works when it is believed. 

My voice shakes… but I have not lied. So for those today whom are out there fighting what you have survived… you are not alone. Speak… no matter who tries to silence you. Write,  if only for yourself,  no matter who tries to stop you. What you say, even if you are afraid,  may help you find your bravery.

Rainy days and Sick Mondays

I woke up aching all over. Now my daughter had it yesterday. So I figure it may just be a spring cold. Then I look out the window….Ugh. It is a dreary rainy day. It would certainly not be the first time my body reacted to the weather. Today every little thing has been setting off my anxieties. So here I am, a true mess. Instead of getting anything accomplished…I have been aching and bellyaching. I think today will just be a wash. However I am refusing to let the rain and dreary knock me down. I am making homemade chicken pizza (From dough i froze a couple of weeks ago) to pick up the spirits of my angel and I. Then after dinner dishes i will sit and try and write….even if I delete it tomorrow…I think the discipline may help me be a little less anxious.

The Faeries of Birchwood Grove

The Faeries of Birchwood Grove
By Patricia Harris

Dancing about to and fro,
Look at all the faeries go.
Birchwood grove is a busy place
Where all the faeries dance and play.
Advice and help for you to care
are easily found in abundance there.

Tips on animals, food and herbs,
gentle fun and lots of preserves.
Goods made with Love and care
easily found over there.