Busy daze….

I know, I know, where the heck have I been lately. First I had to share with you what I’ve been doing, or I should say, what Chi’s been doing. A hematoma on her ear blew her up like a balloon, her ear was just a big sack of ick within, so surgery on Monday. Now the cone of shame is her life for the next 14 days. Walking into everything, drugged and “stoned” for the most part for the next 5 days, and off of her game. She did good on her walk today, we shortened it up a bit to not overdo it, and I’m struggling to make my 10K steps on my Fitbit every day, but happy to say I haven’t missed once. 250 steps = 6 laps around the pool in case you ever wondered.

Watercolor classes started this morning, lots of fun and 5 other wonderful “artists” in training with me. I can see a lot of practicing in my future, but perhaps I should have gone into veterinary medicine ’cause I could have used the chunk of change I gave, but all worth it. Unfortunately Chi may get her picture on the vet wall as “worst patient ever”, as the technician climbed on top of her to pin her down to allow the vet to administer a shot to calm her (she was muzzled and she was absolutely FREAKING out-which for her at the vet is normal), needless to say, she bucked the poor woman off into a wall and ripped a nice gash into her arm with one of her sharp claws-of which she only has two, the rest are whittled down from pavement walking daily. Someone there thought the tech needed stitches but I heard they only butterflied it. So……lets just say that no one would touch her after they got her sedated (in the back room with ALOT of guttural screaming). Talk about exhausting, but on a good note, when she goes to get her stitches out in two weeks, I have a dose of “calming-happy-don’t hurt the vet” pills to give her before we get there. Cross your fingers they work. So my friends, it’s not for having nothing to say here, it’s just that I’ve been a bit distracted and busy. I know you’ll understand, and in two weeks I may be able to accomplish a full night of sleep once the bucket comes off. If not, I may need one.

Wish the Chi luck with her healing and Apple gets to meet the vet on Friday (she tends to be a much more pleasant patient than the Chi) thank heavens. I will be back soon, Lord willing and calmness finds us soon I pray. Hi from my world, will catch up on my reading soon so don’t think I’m ignoring you, gets tough when the dog wants to lay on the keyboard and get loved ā¤ but I don’t blame her in the least. Peace and blessings, K

Dog poop and yummy food

So our neighbor inquired if we had been, how shall I say it, putting dog poop bags into his garbage can. I stifled a laugh and of course said Nope, wasn’t us. Our neighbor doesn’t use his garbage can, he makes one tiny bag per week that sits on his lawn, soaked by his sprinkler system and I suppose the garbage men get to pick up wet and drippy but “clean garbage” when all is said and done. Well, apparently he had just looked into his can for the first time in forever and found a dog poop bag with a gift within. He was a mite upset about the whole ordeal, and it’s not like he’s an old cranky codger or anything, in his early sixties at best. Now I pick up our dogs gifts that they bestow daily like clockwork, tie it tight and slap it on my back in the pack I carry. I take it home where I have a metal can specifically for these gifts. So flash forward a day and he asks my husband again if he’s seen anyone in his yard depositing Fifi’s little gifts into his trash can. Of course we have not, and once again, no it isn’t us. I figure he must have upset someone in the neighborhood, how I do not know but we hope he puts up a camera and catches the suspect soon. He is not a dog owner or he would obviously be making more garbage per week, I should know, our two are never-ending machines at making gifts. I am still chuckling about it and at least someones picking up their dog poop besides us.

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On another note, but a much nicer one, hubby made a scrumptious breakfast today and I thought I’d take a pic and share. My girl Lady G had a post the other day asking about what people are cooking up these days and today we were blessed to partake in this:

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Now that there is cinnamon apple bread french toast with real New York maple syrup with chicken breakfast sausage to compliment. See, and you thought this whole piece would be about dog poop, didn’t you? So what’s happening in your neighborhood that’s given you a laugh lately or what’s cooking good-looking? Please share, the world needs more chuckles and growling stomachs.

Into the rabbit hole

I felt the sun bearing down on my body, moving the brush back and forth against blue tile as cold water splashes like diamonds upon my skin, I stared into the depths of the azure water, feeling the coolness upon me, spreading peace through me like a gentle storm.

My mind keeps drifting into places I had not thought about for many years, memories of a childhood, of the scent of the sneaker smudged yet shining gym floors as light flooded in from windows two stories above my head, the image of the silken material draped in a perfect circle, its color a drab army green, the parachute that lay waiting for the games to begin.

Children stood around this circle. Talking amongst themselves and laughing and I remember just gazing at the color, how it seemed so foreign there against the brightly colored painted stripes and circles of the basketball court. I did not know what was to happen, standing as a mere spectator around the cloth I watched, waiting patiently. The whistle blew and I felt a hand upon my shoulder, was told to go lay in the middle, the next sacrificial lamb I remember after the fact, but the smiles of friends and the nudges from those beside me sent me forward to become a part of this challenge. The other girl, I do not recall her name, lay beside me in the middle of this silken circle and the children on the edges grabbed hold of the material and lifted. They began to moving around the cloth in a circle, as the material gathered up tighter and tighter, closing off the light from sight and at one point separating me from the other child within this cocoon. The outer children kept moving until they could move no more, the material all tied tight and we lay within, not knowing up from down, locked in tight.

The whistle blew and the command was shouted to work our way out. I remember the kicking and screaming of the girl somewhere beside me beyond a curtain of silk and how I kept flailing and ripping at the fabric, trying to break free. I think I was crying, I think I panicked and in the end, I believe we failed to emerge as expected. I do not remember anything else after that.

As a child I could never wear slippers or night-clothes that covered my feet. My mother would have to cut them off as I would wake drenched in sweat from fighting to free myself, to breathe. This was that feeling again, except it was all of me, in this maddening rabbit hole, no escape, no light. I do not know why this memory keeps lingering today, as I am feeling so very peaceful, under a vast blue sky, working beside a neon bright blue pool. Perhaps it is just in need of escaping onto the paper, to become words so that it can be set free once and for all, to know that I am not a small helpless child and that I can make choices of what I wish to do. To have the conviction and strength I lacked then, to plunge down the rabbit hole and face the darkness I had feared or to remain on the edge and just opt out. Universal reminders taught to self through time and space, and to take one last plunge into the darkness, to turn on the light and know that it will all be all right. I am learning to let go, to dive in and to breathe.

Changes in life

I am always amazed by the twists and turns that this wild ride called life take us on. Less than a year ago I had a job in the manufacturing sector, I was a salaried person who enjoyed some aspects of my work but hated the stress of it. After moving to Florida and taking off almost 8 months of not working I decided it was time to get back out and do something, anything for that matter. I grew tired of idly sitting by and swimming and beach going and even writing can only take me so far. I posted applications for jobs that I thought would suit me, similar in a way to what I was doing but then some that were so far removed as to be almost what I thought a bit embarrassing. I posted my resume with a company and in ten minutes received a phone call of interest. Now I’ve worked in manufacturing for 17 years, a manager at a pizzeria for 10 prior to that. I’ve worked since I was 15 years old as I was taught that I needed to take responsibility for my life, make money, get an education, etc….but I was never taught that I needed to enjoy it or have fun doing it.

Imagine my surprise now, having worked my job for two events so far and what a pleasure it is. No stress really (except for setup), and I am working at a Walmart but not for Walmart. I stand and hand out treats, snacks, coffee, etc….today will be my third day and once again am doing coffee but this time with Torani flavorings, Toasted Marshmallow, Bourbon Caramel and sugar-free S’Mores, and to go with Anna’s Ginger and Orange flavored thins cookies. I am excited lately again. I get to go to work and get paid to talk to over 200+ people each day, make them laugh and smile, I’ve even sold the product too and nothing makes me happier as when a customer circles back, holds up the box and yells over to me “I found it” and puts it in their cart. I get paid to have fun, to see smiles and yes, even to listen to the music on the overhead speakers and I dance a bit and sing to myself….and I get paid for this. Where has this job been all of my life? Now true, I’m not going to make millions but really, I have gotten to the point where if I can go to bed at night and know I did good, made someone laugh and generally had an awesome day, how can one go wrong? I had to change my mindset….get beyond the “I’m working at Walmart, sigh…” mentality and just do my best and enjoy. To be grateful and humble and truly excited to rise knowing today I’m going to see a new flock of faces and come home smelling like sweet coffee and cookies, I’ll take it. As my buddy Tre says, it’s truly the little things….and what truth that is. I’ll save a cookie for you my friends, sorry but the coffee won’t stay hot long….have an amazing day šŸ™‚

Everyday people

He moves slowly in circles around the pool of water, reflections lengthen as the sun hits its stride into the depths of the sea, up and down,slow and steady his tired arms move, fresh and newly pebbled rectangle of concrete and above the  bright shining blue calm skies, refreshed and alive as he watches his days flitter past him. Scrubbing sides a week old, water fresh and clean and he moves about in his rhythm, up and down…does he wonder what it’s all for?

A square shell of a sauna lies on its side like a beached whale upon the grass beneath the tree, weeks gone by as the grass below dies away, fading into a pale shade of green turned white, useless and neglected, a piece he bought for her, to ease her pain, but she never used it…unused and rotting away, decomposition makes its way subtly in…like everything unused tends to do.

The small four legged mop of white barks incessantly, come in I would think the translation would be, yet the old man continues on…he mows, he trims, he blows away the wisps of what will now die because it’s Saturday at four and that’s what always happens…and she will remain within the confines in the cool air waiting, for that’s what she does, with her kind smile and humble ways, her aches hold out for his entrance, welcoming I hope.

I am not there. I can only imagine what goes on beyond the hedge as lives move day to day. He surviving the big C and she arthritic and waiting, they groove on like clockwork, tick and tock and time continues rocking past them and I wonder if they ever wish for more time than what stands before them, I wonder if they spoon together as they settle in to sleep so very thankful for this everyday routine.

Knowing

We can see an image and feel

knowing that a sharp edge will indeed draw blood,

that care must be taken

and we have learned this from somewhere

someplace in our lives.

Like fire, we know that if we get too close

we shall be burnt,

we will blister and peel

as someone taught us this too.

Why then when we see injustice

do we turn a blind eye, seeing the pain

and the fear

and realizing like seeing a malnourished pup

we want to hold accountable the soul

who had no soul,

who was able to do this so easily

as if it didn’t matter,

humanity sits before us

and we watch with glassy eyes the images

feeling bad yet doing nothing

perhaps thinking we won’t matter

why bother

why try.

We light our candles

we say our prayers

but until we reach out in faith and hope

that some day we will wake up to a better place

because it was us who did something

anything

besides lip service

and turning the channel so as not to bear witness

thinking what we don’t see

does not exist,

we must have the courage to speak

we must take that step beyond the comfort

we must do it now.

 

I don’t get involved in politics, just ain’t my cup of tea as far as the election goes and I know a lot of people are quite spirited in their opinions, I just chose to be silent on that end. Yesterday I got a pretty huge flyer in the mail, little various pink woman shaped cookie cutter forms on the back, although I had to unfold it to see what it was about, quite happy that breast cancer awareness must have been responsible, yet in each cutout were words. Now it pissed me off, the first one said “Young and beautiful Piece of Ass”….then “fat pigs”, etc…now normally I would just throw it out and be done with it but I was thinking back as a young kid I was always excited to go get the mail, and I wonder if I were a seven-year old who knew how to read, and ran in to show it to mom, reading the words out loud, I would have gotten smacked for sure. What in the name of all that’s good gets into people’s minds…who would mail this? Now politics on tv, I can easily choose not to watch, but when it arrives in the US postal mail, now that made me angry. It’s a cute document, until you read it. Now tell me, if your child brought this in and read it to you, what would you think? Perhaps it’s just me, and it’s nothing I would normally share but it still makes me angry. Yes, the person who “said it” has his own opinions, yet do I really need to get this in my mailbox? Go door to door if you must and hand it to an adult. Really, I often wonder where these peoples heads are at….and you wonder why I dislike politics. Case in point. Now I have to start screening my mail? Perhaps make it smaller and not the size of my mailbox…or better yet…save the postage and don’t send it at all. Rant over, thanks for letting me roll this. Last politic post EVER, I promise šŸ™‚

Peace and balance, K

Moving senses

I cameĀ here to this place of peace, as the water was still, calm as glass with no hint of a wind. The clouds moved in and out of the view of the September sun and I stood alone as tiny ripples moved around my legs, my reflection in the blue green water comical with the big straw hat and white t-shirt to save the shoulders from the rays glare. Sunscreen slathered on my legs…yet somehow in my eagerness I forgot my arms….

I laughed aloud as I walked slowly in the water, looking up to see if anyone had heard but no one was close enough and so I just stood there glancingĀ into the water around me for more treasures. A group of thin silver fish flitted around my legs, as if they were not used to something being there, perhaps as if two small trees grew in their path unexpectedly and so they moved around as their eyes peered up into the giant above them, wary yet moving forward none the less. I looked up as I heard a strange noise and saw a tall bird standing there on the sand watching me. A great blue heron. I think perhaps he thought I was a fisherman, with my plastic colander and plastic bag in my hand, and he thought that I’d throw him a snack, but alas I came only equipped with a few shells and a hundred teeth in a bag. He moved on after awhile and was soon replaced with a smaller replica, and then another and later, another. All different but all curious as to what I was doing there, ankle deep in water as I bent and plucked, reaching for the pointy teeth that I came for.

I gave them no notice after that, content with the notion that they wouldn’t ambush me from behind and continued on my back and forth duck in a shooting gallery ways, looking here and there and coming away from the two and a half hours with the largest haul yet. A woman was there doing the same as I, but she wasn’t interested in the teeth, just fossils. She told me about horses teeth, alligator pieces, etc….and my mind kept wondering why there would be horses teeth in the ocean, let alone alligator. I didn’t ask, just merely chatted for a moment and then kept moving on. I let my thoughts wander while I was here, as I always do and was constantly surprised by the twists and turns they took. I couldn’t write here as it’s a bit hot for the tablet, and now knee deep in water technology and H2O don’t play well together, let alone the 90 degree heat, and I suppose that was okay too. This moment was meant for being at one with the motion of the ocean, for letting my thoughts move where they wished to, and for just breathing in this amazing moment. The clarity of the water, the blue of the sky, and the finds that had surfaced after days before, Hermine had turned the water to the color of mud. Things resumed to where they always had been, and without the waves you could see the bottom the ocean and the shells and fish below so distinctively.

This place gives me peace, and seems to give it’s gift when most needed. I wish I could share it with you, perhaps in readingĀ this you can get the sense that you are here too. Close your eyes, slip into the warmth of the water and enjoy….and don’t forget your sunscreen. I’ve a great farmers tan to show for my time….now I just have to get those shoulders some color. I am striped…..and laughing about that too.

Peace and blessings.

Lyrics to my life #5

“Well, I really don’t mind the rain
And a smile can hide all the pain
But you’re down when you’re ridin’ the train that’s takin’ the long way
And I dream of the things I’ll do”

Rhinestone Cowboy-Glen Campbell

My grandmother owned a diner. Lately I’ve been having glimpses of the moments from when I was younger and the time I spent there. The smell of grease permeating the air and so thick you could cut it with a knife, and the coloring books she kept behind the counter for me were always a bit wrinkled and the crayons even held a sheen of grease. The jukebox in the corner of course always beckoned, and though I wasn’t familiar with a lot of what was one there, she showed me the special place in the back where I could grab a quarter out and play whatever I wanted. I remember playing this song, Mr. Bojangles and of course Happy Birthday over and over again ad nauseam. I think it was a ploy for attention because when I got on those whims to make her angry, she’d give me another bottle of Squirt (sure, give the kid even more sugar and make her sit still), tell me to stop and sit down and get busy coloring. She’s been dead for so many years now, years spent there working her fingers to the bone and “testing” every pot of soup, every casserole and pretty much everything that she created as she wouldn’t serve something that didn’t meet her approval, years of all of it clogging her arteries and slowing her down. I still like hitting a greasy spoon for a cheap breakfast, but somehow, without the jukebox or the bottle of Squirt and coloring books, it just ain’t the same anymore. I couldn’t find an actual photo of her diner, it is a restaurant still after having gone from the Raceway Diner to Donut Land now to the currentĀ Pegasus which is more upscale (but still a slight smell of grease in the air though) so this one of Mom’s Diner will have to give you a rough image to set the mood. I think I prefer where the lights and fresh air are shining on me now…..

Lyrics to my life #3

“Does it feel that your life’s become a catastrophe?
Oh, it has to be for you to grow , boy.
When you look through the years and see what you could have been
oh, what you might have been,
If you’d had more time.”
Take the long way home-Supertramp

I sat in the window watching in the darkness as the party next door went full throttle. The loud music filled the humid summer air, and this album in particular played, which had always been a favorite, as this song came on and the tears fell, I knew I wasn’t a part of it, I was alone as my what “had been” best friend(nad neighbor) hung with her new clique and I sat like a sodden wallflower on the sidelines, unwanted….I made a vow I would never feel that way again. Time was fleeting and it was not worth the expenditure of tears. The lyrics clung to me through life, remembering the good times sitting on the floor as the shiny new vinyl spun round, singing along to the thin paper words that sleeved the plastic disc.
I look back now in hindsight, recalling how as teenagers, it was such a heartless and cruel world, but as an adult, I have found the path to peace and forgiveness…taking the long way home perhaps but not letting the time slip by without a lesson. Stronger yet still adore this song….and still sing it at the top of my lungs in the car…no tears, just the joy of following the road where it leads. Peace and blessings, enjoy my friends. Kim

Beyond the blue of yesterday

There was a moment where the sun slipped below the horizon, the vibrant red ball seeming as if to sizzle as it hit the surface that was lightly rippled. There was little wind and no words spoken as we just sat and watched the moment, living with the memory of the beauty from seconds ago. Life moves like this some days I find. Bright and filled with life and then when it all settles, a quiet and serene peace begins to grow like a single flower in broken dirt, a small green shoot in a place where nothing was expected or asked for. Simple blessings to appreciate. Time passed slow and fast, all at the same time and though the body and mind never quite met, never synchronized into itself, many memories were carried away, some which will be words in the future I’m sure, some left behind on that beach where the sun disappeared.

We are home from home. Time likes to play its tricks upon me and trying to get caught up, the internet decided that 400 emails must have been a bit too much, crashing my system over and over again like a wave that never ends. I walked away. I took a breath. I returned to some glimmer of hope, the tiny green shoot of peace moved me once more where only cracked and parched thoughts lay, tripping me up as I try to cope….patience, yes, that is what the mind spoke loud and clear. I let it go. I did get some reading done, some catch up left to do but sometimes you just have to let the sun set on the chaos that wants to ensue, to pull you under and leave you floundering…and so I take time here now for a hello to you all my wonderful friends. I’ve missed you, and I’ve missed me. But I am gradually coming back into the normalcy which is my new life and that makes me smile, yes, I am smiling to look around and see my surroundings, my banana tree which is making fat little bananas for the future, to see the pups on the couch for their afternoon siesta, and rain on and off can’t dampen my soul. I embrace it, welcome it actually. Blue days but so very wonderful and it’s good to be home, here by the sea and so different from back there.

Pics from our trip, beautiful sunset and happy beach fish stinking dogs….life, still good.

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I’m back….YAY! Happy to see you all again too.