Ordinary Life

My friend, Ms. Story, is 93 years young. We went to the doctor today.  She put on lipstick and her wedding ring for the excursion. The doctor gave her really good news, which made us both a little sad: she no longer needs her arm sling. It means she won’t be needing me to stop by every couple of days to help her with little two-handed tasks around her house.  She has been cleared to use the dust pan again, and to dust her own body with White Diamonds powder after a fully involved shower, instead of our routine featuring only a sponge.   Now when I visit, it will just be as a friend, with treats for us to share... one who visits frequently and isn’t going anywhere. 

That’s a wrap! Riley’s initial soccer experience on the 9U Y team, ‘Green Lightning’ was a season of fun and learning about teamwork; ergo, a success.  What a guy... thanks coach for all you do! ⚽️⛺️🇺🇸

Superb Owls: A Tale of Talking Twice  My friend suggested a work around for certain commercial terms that one must not utter in early winter. Instead of talking about an oversized bowl filled with football players, we talk about superb owls who don’t get fined by the NFL. It was on Superb Owl Sunday this February past that I said what I had felt convicted say. It was the culmination of a long weekend spent learning to let go. I had *locked my hopes for a different future securely to posts from our past. The bands inscribed “Beloved” formed silver linings along these clouds of broken promise. I cried and prayed a little, sitting in one of the old wooden swings. I'd held my firstborn there. I reflected on all my years that light had seen. Then I hurled the contents of my stomach onto the cold, damp sand. I think I had the flu. ~*~ I rehearsed what I might say all along the two-hour way. I wanted to build an olive bridge. We made the exchange as decreed by law and then I spoke my part...

Grab that puppet  Snip its strings Dip the nose in Kerosene  Strike some matches  Watch them gleam   The puppet is drinking Gasoline  Flames leap lively,  Light reveals Wooden liar boys Can never be real 

Yes Yes  She is less Less  Of  a  Lie  Than  Me

Girl, wash your face and count to three...(he ran to someone who wasn’t me). Girl, stop apologizing and just breathe...(this is where you see you're free). Girl, open your eyes wide and see... (fairytales are cautionary). Girl, wash your face or leave and make do...(streaked mascara as a face tattoo). Girl, stop apologizing for wrongs that aren’t yours...(salvage the damage and build a door). Girl, open your eyes and take a look...(it’s about time to write that book). ~~~*~~~ :: One year and a handful of months later, I wrote on the last page of my Morning Pages journal today. It is literally time to start a fresh chapter, and even a whole new book ::

I will say this, woman to woman, (knowing well you are here and how our curiosity works): My problem is not with you. I am not on a campaign to intervene in anyone's new-found happiness. Asking for obligations to be honored is not asking for a resurrection of what has died. You are welcome here, step into the light. Isn't it odd we've never been introduced? And as with Ace, his first wife, your comments and questions, the versions of stories you're told or need to tell, will always have an open forum with me. That is who I choose to be- as a human, not just an ex-tra player in the scene. And there's a difference that no one but Ace could know... I asked her in the best way I knew how. She was gracious, gave me an honest summary... but didn't divulge details that may have helped me see. Not one part of this, none of the story with me is her fault, I am not casting blame... but I wanted to know - didn't want to encroach- but was too young and inexperienced to ...

If your aim is to be Christ to the world... or even to just one soul... do not be surprised at your own crucifixion.

D--> A--> B--> D--> Acceptance -->H Next Up: Hope

Dear Three, Hi, I'm Deuce. We haven't met yet, but we will. I've known about you long before auditions began. And I've always told him I aim to be your friend. There are children involved, after all. You are no doubt lovely, and gentle and kind. He has top-shelf taste though his budget is sometimes inflated. He says he is going to wife you soon; very, very soon he tells me. Perhaps sometime in early October, when my birthday rolls around. I think he intends that to stun and sting. But I am already quite numb from the earlier blows. Though we are not exactly divorced yet, I tried that whole  kinstugi  thing. The gold we found in  Rome 's mountains could not heal or seal us, and all the  King's horses and Prince Simon's men , couldn't put us back together again. It takes both sides holding their broken parts, together. While I must note the ease with which two decades have been discarded, it is only a reminder for myself. You must not read into my tone a l...