The Following are “Notes” from my Facebook Page. A good place to start!
First, my Facebook Profile About Me Thingy
Woman on the verge, perfect in my imperfections, overwhelmed underachieving overachiever, bitch, (once in a blue moon) lover, (peace, love and harmony!) child, (in the very best of ways, of course!) mother (and a damned lucky one at that!) singer,(but I can’t carry a tune in a bucket) dancer, (I got rhythm in my 2 left feet) artist, (I can draw pretty lollipop trees and lazy daisies!) happy girl… all of these things and so much more…
Oct 3, 2009 I Believe!!
In what, you may ask? I believe that fairies dance in rings of mushrooms, of course! And I believe in Santa, and lollipop daisies, and in art and music and dance! I believe in love, real love, giving and honest love, expressed or silent, willing and vulnerable. I believe in open hearts and open minds, accepting, tolerant, creative and OUT LOUD! I believe in joy and happiness, and in embracing those joy-filled moments that are all too rare. I believe in quiet moments, solitude, time to think, and mediation. I believe in friendship, loud crowds united in a cause, trusting in one another and in their voice. I believe in unity. I believe in my rose colored glasses. They are transparent, and don’t filter out the bad. I do see the world’s horrors; war, poverty, hunger, anger, hate, grief, confusion, manipulation, sickness… but I also see love. I see people working to change things for the better, and they do that with and thru love. I see people holding hands, embracing each other with a genuine light in their eyes… that is love. This world goes on despite all the terrors and horrors and incongruities. This world goes on and even progresses because you and I love one another. And thru that love we inspire and we create, and we live.
Dec. 13, 2009
Allrecipes Profile
I just ran across this on my Allrecipes profile. I wrote this little blurb several years ago. Made me kinda miss my Memaw and my Mommy! 🙂
My grandmother was the epitome of Southern graciousness. She loved trying and sharing new recipes, and she always had a tin of fresh baked cookies ready for us when we visited. Meals were always a production, from breakfast, to evening cocktails, (for us it was Shirley Temples and or Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla with Chocolate syrup). She made lima beans sublime, and her Red Velvet Cake will never be equaled. My mother, too, is a fantastic cook. Without knowing it she has taught me everything I know about the kitchen. We didn’t always have tons of money, but somehow she made us feel like royalty when she served us a mayonnaise sandwich. It’s all in the attitude! My favorite things to cook I love to bake! And I love to present, and to explore and share new flavors and culinary experiences. My favorite family cooking traditions Cookie baking at Christmas, big family pot lucks at any gathering. My cooking triumphs Pralines, Memaws chocolate chip cookies, Memaws Chicken and Spaghetti, (everyone’s favorite!) My cooking tragedies burning sugar in the microwave at the coffee shop where I worked. ARG!
Oct 9, 2010
Go Away, Big Green Monster!
At last, I’m comfortable with who I am. I like myself. I will never again allow anyone, (not a man, not a preacher, not my father or mother, not my ex-husband…) to cause me to question who I am at my core. I strive to love from my center. I fail, but that’s ok. I seek to forgive, but I allow myself to experience anger and pain, because balance is absolutely key to health, and to repress emotions of any kind does not allow healing to happen. Pain, both physical and emotional, is a cue to self correct, ( NOT to place blame or allow oneself to become victimized). On the other hand, healing cannot happen if I allow the sources of the pain to continue to wound, therefore I have to excise those sources when I can.
June 27, 2010
It’s Only Words
You know what I love? I love words. Words may not always be the most efficient way to get our thoughts across, and we may not always know just what words to use to communicate what we want to say, but words are what we have. Words are the medium most of us use to create our lives, and to understand the lives of others. Words begin and end relationships. We use words to play with each other, to fantasize, to dramatize,(and sometimes over-dramatize). Frankly I pretty much suck at using words, especially when I am hurting and need to say so. I get lost in my head, worry about the misinterpretation of my words, or that my words will alienate the very person I’m trying to draw near. Or I just get stuck and can’t find the words I need. The letters swim around in my head and can’t connect to one another in a comprehensive way. Kind of like emotional dyslexia. But still, I love words. Words from a trusted source comfort me. They validate my thoughts and feelings. They let me know that I am safe and loved, (or sometimes that I am not safe and loved). And words let me comfort and validate and communicate my emotions. Words are the tether that connect us to one another, whether we are sitting in the same room, or miles and miles apart. A simple word on a plaque can be a powerful reminder, (S I M P L I F Y). Sometimes someone else s words make our own thoughts gel, (I love quotes!). Three Little Words can bring intense joy when whispered softly, or intense pain when remembered in vain. I Love You… heady words! Of course the use of words must be within a framework of trust, and should be used wisely, cautiously, compassionately, honestly, and with great care. And yes, sometimes a touch, or a glance, or a gesture can speak volumes. There are those who use their precious talents with paint, or clay, or music to speak for them. I’m deeply envious of them. But for most of us it comes back to words. Simple, without rhyme or meter or melody. I love words. I just wish I could use them better!
June 11, 2011
Status Redux (I use this one a lot, tho I change the stuff I enjoy)
We focus so much on our fears and conflicts, and not enough on the bounty and comforts that already exist in our lives. So today I give myself the freedom to relax and enjoy all that is mine: love, a roof, iced coffee, hugs, bitter-sweet goodbyes, belly laughs, juicy strawberries, occasional flights of whimsy, a glass of wine in the evening, good movies and Kettle Corn, sun-loving wild roses, frog song at dusk, more hugs, love, love, love.
Sept 4, 2012
Once in a Very Blue Moon
Would you like some whine with your cheese?
It was only a flat tire and a dead battery; problems easily fixed, really no big deal, nothing to have a meltdown over. But I did have a meltdown. Because in reality these little problems underscored how very broke I am, how very dependent on others I am, how alone I feel. It’s not like I have a partner to call to come get this tire changed. I had to borrow someone else’s partner. And ten dollars to fix a tire, (that really should be replaced) might as well be $1000 to someone who struggles to choose between paying the bills and putting food on the table.
I’m exhausted from trying to put all of these disorganized, muddled, broken pieces of my life together to form some kind of picture that makes sense. I know it sounds all pop-psychology-esque, but those thoughts of I’m not enough, I’m not smart enough, not young enough, an inadequate parent, inadequate daughter, inadequate worker, just plain inadequate, too fat, too skinny, (and yes, you can be both at the same time) just not good enough are a constant plague.
Open the mailbox, another disconnect notice. Kids come home from school, more supplies need to be bought. Need to go visit Mom, buy school clothes, mow the grass, tend to the swamp in the back yard, fix the washing machine, paint the house, get the headlight fixed on the van, take the dogs to the vet, prep lesson plans, bake cupcakes for an order, get the plumbing fixed, find a new dr. and make an apt. to see about this little “place” on my back, pay the bills, go to the grocery store, make Mom’s birthday cake, and all the usual house cleaning stuff… all perfectly normal. Not one of these things is a huge, insurmountable mountain of a problem. But they all have to be done by me, alone, right now, with $000.00. And it’s Madi’s senior year, a wonderful rite of passage that deserves celebration , but how in the hell am I going to find the money to pay for all the things she deserves to have? Prom, graduation, driving, (no, she’s not driving yet)…
I don’t even want to talk about the loneliness. There is Someone Special, but he’s far far away, (a fact he highlights constantly). Besides, who in the hell would want me, (see above)?
Ok, ok, I know. I have a job. I have good health. I have a house. I have amazing daughters who hold me up. I have a wonderful family who are willing and able to help me out any time I ask, (but OMG, that gets emotionally draining to have to ask). I have talents; I have some intellect, and some ability. The house painting can wait. We are working around the plumbing, washing machine, and a few other issues. I’m not looking to create Nirvana, or Neverland, or even PixieCorner. I just want to be able to take care of my family and my home. And sometimes I just don’t know how.
Again, I don’t feel this way all the time… just once in a very blue moon.
Sept 20, 2012
You Want A Piece of Me???
To forgive is somehow associated with saying that it is all right, that we accept the evil deed. But this is not forgiveness. Forgiveness means that you fill yourself with love and you radiate that love outward and refuse to hang onto the venom or hatred that was engendered by the behaviors that caused the wounds.” Wayne Dyer
Yeah yeah yeah, all well and good. Forgiving from the divine spark of love deep inside trumps chronic anger and resentment. I so get that. But once we decide to forgive, does it happen instantly? Is there a sudden paradigm shift that occurs in the spirit? Maybe. Sometimes. But maybe sometimes it’s an ongoing, evolving process of the spirit. At least for me, in some cases where the wounds are deep, I find that forgiveness ebbs and flows. I convince myself that I have forgiven, that I wish him well with all the love in my heart, I even interact with him in a very positive and genuine manner. And then another time I am confronted by his successes; he’s got a new car, or a great new job, or a wonderful new relationship. I feel my heart swell with resentment, envy, anger. If I allow it to, it eats away at every aspect of who I am, the way I behave with others, even the person I see in the mirror. But every time it becomes easier and easier to let it go, and talk myself back to a place of peace. Maybe it’s like exercising a muscle. The more you exercise it, the stronger it becomes. Ok, yeah, I know the petty little green monster is my smallness, but hey! I’m a work in progress. And as it turns out, I’m bigger than that that little green monster gives me credit for! (Apologies to John Mayer)
November 12, 2012
Let Me Hold Your Crown, Baby
Despite the fact that I have been as happy as I have ever been over the past few weeks, (or maybe because I have been happy) The Silent Voice of Dissent has been my constant companion for the last couple of days. “You’re going to sabotage this.” “You’re not worthy of this.” “Look at your messy life; no one wants to be a part of this.” “You have nothing to offer.”
I should know better than to listen. I DO KNOW BETTER!! So starting this very minute I’m giving SVD her walking papers. She is not wise, she does not contribute to the progress of my life, she’s not even funny. She’s nothing but disembodied ego. Go catch a few butterflies and chase a few rainbows, Silent Voice of Dissent, then come back for a visit. We’ll have a cup of tea and talk about your adventures. But check the bad attitude at the door.
Sept 2, 2013
Best Day Ever!
From time to time we all get caught up in life’s little dramas, (some of us even live in the drama). Money’s tight, relationship’s in a rut, feeling a little puny, things just not going our way. But I have a niece who reminded me of a very important lesson: Keep it in perspective! This tiny little girl faces a host of challenges, the likes of which I can’t even begin to fathom. She has a “label.” She will never be “normal,” whatever that means. But according to her father, she wakes up every day and at some point declares that This is the best day ever! And you know what? She’s absolutely right! I woke up this morning, surrounded myself with people I love and who love me, ate good food that nourished my body, found reasons to laugh, to smile, and to have faith enough to lay my head on my pillow tonight, fall asleep, allow my body to heal the wears and tears of the day…and if tomorrow brings more of the same, then it will be the best day ever! Yes, I was worried about a myriad of things, but turns out they were little things compared to the very fact that I am here, on this planet, living, breathing, loving, and hoping. Yep, best day ever!
Sept 11, 2013
Love and Happiness
OK, yes, I’ve had wine. But what follows is in earnest. What makes you happy? I mean deeply, sublimely happy. What gives you joy? When do you feel the most connected with your divine center? For me, I feel deeply happy when I have created something beautiful, or unique, or that simply speaks to me. It might be a photograph, or something I’ve painted, or even a cupcake or cake. I’m not terribly talented, not exactly original, not highly skilled, but while the “creations” I am talking about may be simple, they are mine alone, born of my mind, my hands.
And when I allow myself, the sound of my girls’ laughing together brings me immense joy (and I admit I have to remember to allow myself… Moms are trained to suspect mischief when the children are laughing!). I’m awfully awfully proud of my girls. Somehow they have become sweet, compassionate, committed,
Being in nature, particularly in the mountains, observing the weaves in nature’s fabric, breathing in the dust, and the pollens, and the ions brings me closer to God. And then there is James. I wasn’t going to include him in this list because it seems so repetitive and sappy to keep going on and on about how important he is. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. But somehow the Universe has conspired that he and I come together at this perfect time. My whole life makes sense now. I know where I fit. If I’m going to make a list of what brings me the most joy, James has to be included at the top. So I want to know… what makes you happy?
Sept 24, 2013
On Jesus and Zealot
I’ve been reading the book, Zealot, by Reza Aslan.
One critisism has been that the author views Jesus as a human, with human limitations, disregarding his divinity. But I think that if we can allow Jesus his humanity, if we can see him with an eye on his historical, political, social perspective, he is all the more remarkable. Who among us with out limitations as flesh and bone can endure what Jesus endured as a man? I think we get lazy and narrow and even become ostriches with our heads buried in the sand if we ONLY view him through his divinity. It’s easy to see a God enduring such pain and humiliation. We MUST see his humanity. We MUST see him as a man. Otherwise we devalue our own divine spark, the Jesus-ness we are capable of. If we only view Jesus as a God, we are missing the point.
Nov 12, 2013
Mad Ramblings
You know, I am learning to embrace, really really embrace who I am. There are people who love to call me out on my “weirdness” but I’ll be darned if they don’t mean it in the best way possible! They actually see me the way I want to be seen! Of course, I’m still a flawed, quaking, freaked-out work in progress, and I still have moments- no, I still have periods of time when I am doubtful of my own abilities, worthiness, lovability. But I think that we can simultaneously accept that we are dynamic, evolving, and open, and yet at the same time scared to death of that openness. Being all open and stuff means we are allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to heartache, vulnerable to our own weaknesses, (which are glaring to us, but much less so to others).
We women hold ourselves up to this impossible standard… we think we should be flawless, keep a beautiful immaculate home, put in a full day’s work at whatever that is, have no wrinkles, a flat stomach, and no stretch marks, please our partner in the bedroom no matter how exhausted we are. Plus we are told we have to feed our soul by creating some majestic creative something-or-other! It’s just not possible to do it all all the time, but when we fail at it we beat the crap out of ourselves! And OMG, if we perceive that someone else is in the least bit critical… FORGET IT! Time to go back to bed and pull the sheets up over our head. 
I see my sister as the strong one of the 2 of us. She can see what needs to be done and get it done, know what needs to be said and get it said. She seems to have an innate courage and strength that I somehow lack. I get flustered, lost, overwhelmed. I told her all of this recently and she just laughed. She said that she feels exactly the same way, timid and vulnerable, and that the “strength” she shows is just a practiced, rehearsed act. She is scared to death too, most of the time! Seriously, that only made her even more heroic in my eyes.
Hello Butterfly! 