Showing posts from March, 2014

Give Gwyneth a Break

The internet can be a great place. You can learn a lot of strange and interesting facts.
Like, everyone has a unique tongueprint, like fingerprints.

 You can keep in touch with friends. Facebook anyone???

Or, you can find really cool pictures of stuff you never knew existed.

Today, there's a whole bucketful of talk on the internet about Gwyneth Paltrow. What kind of blogger would I be if I didn't chime in? (Don't answer that!)

Gwyneth got more than an earful for her comments about how her life as an actress and mother is much harder than women who have 'regular jobs' and kids. I know! Shocking, right? Thing is, all Ms. Paltrow has known since being a mother, is being an actress-mother. She has no idea what it's like to have a full-time job and a family. (And, come to think of it, neither do I.) So, she's making statements from what she knows. Because, what else can she draw from? Sure she's an actress, but even playing the role of a working mother (has…

Where I Lived

It's raining today. And cold. But, if I sit very still and close my eyes, I can almost feel the warm of the Arizona sun on my bare shoulders. I can smell the oleander bushes with their white and pink flowers that grew along the fence.  I can taste the bitter pecans that we picked up from the ground and cracked with rocks on the hot sidewalk. I can almost feel the freedom. The freedom of childhood.

Our days were spent outdoors. In the morning, my sisters and I would walk to the swimming pool for lessons. Afterward, we got our hand stamped then walked back home. Chores were done cautiously, lest we wash off the cherished stamp that would allow us entrance back to the pool in the afternoon. There we would try out our new-found skills, and play tea party at the bottom of the pool.

We played jacks on the porch, careful to sweep up all the little metal pieces before the ball had a chance to bounce. Some days, we would strap on our roller skates with metal wheels and a large rubber stop…

Writing Prompt Wednesday- Lover's Quarrel

This week's prompt comes from Write on Edge. The prompt is a choice of a quote and/or a picture.  The quote:

I would have written of me on my stone: I had a  lover's quarrel with the world. -Robert Frost
And, the picture-

Lover's Quarrel
Helen picked her way carefully over the slick stones. The sea spray teased her face and dampened her long, raven hair. Her bare feet knew the way, moving from place to place without wavering.


She ignored his voice, keeping her face to the water. From a distance, the sea appeared calm, serene, but the closer she got, the more she could hear the crash of waves below.

A wooden pole stuck out from the rocks, completely out of place. Helen put her hand on the walking stick and sat next to it. Unshed tears burned her eyelids.


Eyes wide, she leaned her head against the wood. A small indent had been carved into it and her hand fit there just so. She could almost feel his hand on it. Almost.

“You’re not being fair. Especially coming …

What Kind of Excuse is That?

Please excuse Julie for missing school. She was ill.
This was the standard note my mother would write for me to take to school after I'd missed a day. It was in her neat, curvy handwriting on a half-sheet of paper that I would carry carefully to give to my teacher. (We did not carry backpacks. Papers sent home were entrusted to our teeny hands and often lost their way before arriving home.)

In my years as a parent of school kids, I've written my share of notes. When I first had to write one, I automatically copied my mom's style. But, then I realized, people don't really use the word, 'ill' much, so I updated it. To 'sick'. And, I always tried to make the absence sound reasonable, 'he had an appointment' or 'she didn't fell well'. I've started thinking, though, that maybe I should be more honest, make my notes longer and tell the whole story. It wouldn't change anything in the 'being excused' department, but it might …

To Forgive, Divine

In church on Sunday, someone made the comment that we are in one of three places-- about to go into a crisis; in a crisis; or just coming out of a crisis.  As I look back at my life, I realize this is true.  It's not a bad thing, really. None of us get a life filled with sunshine and rainbows. Oh, the sunshine is there, as are the rainbows, but they aren't constant. Nor would we want them to be. Life is about growth, and growth requires trials.

For me, I'm 'just coming out of crisis'. It was hard. It was heart-wrenching. It kept me down for weeks where I wanted nothing more than my bed, a box of tissues and the tv remote. I did not feel courageous. I felt weak, alone and angry.

Angry because someone hurt me. They reached into my heart and used my greatest vulnerabilities and crushed me with them. They knew very well how this would hurt me, yet did it anyway. I was hurt and angry.  The anger burned in me and I held onto its warmth like a security blanket. I cried a…