That’s Anita on the far right. Root friend. All of these ladies are root friends. That’s me second from left.
Right now I’m packing for an adeventure of a lifetime. I wanted to let you know I’ll be away for the rest of the month. I can’t even believe it myself.
So, last December (almost a year ago) my good friend and I hatched a plan. It was a plan that I didn’t really think would happen. Just talk. But no. We’re doing it!
LAS VEGAS, NV – OCTOBER 02: A cowboy hat lays in the street (Photo by David Becker/Getty Images) image used with permission pending
How can I write about divorce when there’s so much crap going on? This week was a doozy, yes? If you are offended by swear words, then click away and come back next week.
Las Vegas, AK rifles, massacres, terrorist attacks, hurricane destruction—-yuck. Violent words. Violent worlds.
Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash
I wrote this months ago and have hesitated in posting it until now. I can’t say why except that it’s putting a piece of my heart out here.
I think that’s called being “vulnerable“. Here goes.
Even though my friend passed away over a year ago, his memory is often with me. Every once in a while, I’ll see an older man on the street and think of *Craig. Then I’ll remember some random thing he told me or some funny mannerism of his.
image source; coffeecigarettesmagazines.blogspot.com
We’re all carrying at least one suitcase with us, day in, day out. It’s our baggage. It’s full of our own personal issues; lies, denial, delusions, past wrongs, blame, hope for the future.
A dreamy image by artist Kathe Soave
At 4 am we pretty much think of everything and anything. What’s right with the world and what’s wrong. What we love and what we hate. Good and bad. A time where dreams and reality sometimes collide.
That’s what life is, a collision. Shifting time passages, repetition, dreams and reality mixed in a blender of life.
Go see La La Land. It will put an exclamation point on it.
Oh, and it really is 4 am as I write this.
I awoke from a dream. I was washing a dirty pan and although it was coming out clean, I kept scrubbing. Then I fell asleep on the couch (not my couch), in front of the television in a room with a large glass door (not my television or room) that appeared to be open and the gauzy curtain lifted with the in coming breeze.
Hello Escapees, want to catch up over coffee? That’s one of my favorite things to do with friends. Even though we can’t do it literally, we can do it virtually here at the blog. Thanks to Shantala over at Shanayatales, for starting this Catch Up Over Coffee theme. It’s just an informal chat designed to put a more personal slant on the blog.
I think after all that’s been going on it’s nice to take a deep breath and just talk. Shoot the breeze. So, grab your cup a joe. (Ironically, I wrote a similar post almost exactly a year ago Hello! Come On In, I’ll Put Coffee On I guess Shantala and I think alike).
What do Forrest Gump and Donald Trump have in common? They both made it to the White House, for starters. So, if life is like a box of chocolates in Forrest Gump’s time then what is it now? Perhaps it’s like a bag of chips?
image source unsplash by Kevin Lee
I used to equate grace with ballerinas. Their long legs and perfectly held arms and delicate buns atop their perfect shaped heads, said ‘graceful’. I thought of myself as the polar opposite of the ballet dancer. I had no grace.
I was often called ‘clumsy’ as a child. I still lose my grip sometimes, spilling milk, not to cry over or maybe it’s spilled wine to cry over. Regardless, things get spilled and people cry.
image-by-Creative-Commons-Ninha-Morandini
I’m not sure what chapter I’m in but I hope it’s somewhere in the middle. The saggy middle. That’s the part of the story where we have to continue the suspense and rising action or we’ll get bored and abandon the book. How many chapters will our life even contain? While we don’t know the answer to this, an unknown ending is what keeps us moving forward.
Random musings and gratitude seem to go together today.
My mind is just not letting me blog. I don’t know why. Every time I think of a topic my Escapees might like I start writing it only to get up and get more coffee, dust the coffee table, organize my desk or put the clothes in the dryer. Ya. Well, normally when I write none of
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