Friday, January 28, 2011

Do I Write for Me?

Another fellow blogger stated to me that her blog was for her and if people choose to read it so be it but the writing is hers. I never thought about the writing belonging to me. I always thought the writing was for the benefit of the reader. Even if you have no readers, it still belonged to them, doesn't it? I realize now that the writing must belong to me. So if you choose to read what I write wonderful but be warned I am staking claim on this and now it belongs to me. So here goes...

I have been crying a lot. Everything makes me cry right now. I almost can't stand myself or the sadness that seems to be emitting from my pours. There is a well of salt water that seems to permanently brim my lower lids. I can't get it to stop. I try to think about other things but everything good or bad makes me cry and even the happiest things hold some level of sentiment and that makes me cry too. I wonder if you can cry out all the tears you are allotted in this life because I think I must be getting pretty close to doing just that.

I sometimes think I want to jump out of my skin and never be allowed back in. But then I know what that loss feels like on a different level and that's anxiety producing, if ever anything ever was. Change is hard. My life has changed in away that I can't change back. I want things to change back but then that wouldn't be life in all its authenticity. If the painful things could be removed from life feelings wouldn't be necessary and they are necessary.

Someone once told me that you can think yourself crazy. So I tried that. I tried not to think about the things that were making me crazy and divert my attentions elsewhere and you know what I learned from doing that? That the opposite is true too. "You can not think yourself crazy and end up numb and get yourself good and stuck." It is a stagnent pool of quicksand, that option! More damage is done with stuck then with motion. At least it seems that way for me. I tend to lean toward the stuck. Cautiously hanging back, waiting to see what will happen. Usually nothing happens and the situation remains right where it is but all covered in the dust of resentiment.

I think I need to move through this I don't want to be stuck. The tears can flow for a while and I will accept that but at some point I sincerely hope this pain will wash through me and leave me for at least a little while...I don't see that I really have a choice in the matter. They flow no matter what I am doing or no matter where I am. They are just an accessory for me right now.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Little Jewels

Little jewels captured
Sepia moments shed
Light in very dim places
Little fingers wrap one
Large index finger
While her thumb presses
Gently into my hand
I hold your coral hibiscus
The one you plucked for me
I delight in its color
The color now
That I imagine it to be
Like my memories
Too many years have passed
To be sure of anything
I have to believe
There were joyful times
Tucked and surrounding
The painful times
Thank you for trying
It seemed I never said that to you
But it is clear now
That I should have.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Forcing Forsythia

Solen from Google Images

How good to eat
Exclaimed she
Isn’t it beautiful?
Would have sufficed
Mountains tower
Puff of cloud
Peridot Dales bathed until
Intensity of hue unmatched
Optimistic forsythia
Temps other species
Shed your buds
Stretch your arms
Shake the morning chill
From your limbs


Be still
Time must not be hastened
Many dreams must float first
Before your yellow lemony sunburst
Blossoms will greet me
And when those dreams have past
Always brave always first
Welcome spring
Unlocking its gates
Color Procession Begin!
Dedicated to Vicki Lane

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


Another Lovely Photo by Tess Kincaid for Magpie Tale 50

You hunt us
Not sustenance but pleasure
Scope pointed with steady hand
Our little faces peak from 
Knotted holes
Our eyes flash
Shade tail twitch
Our sight sharp with your image
You waiting, taking
Will it leave us
Breathless or upset  
Our bodies unconsumed
Our tails twitch
Already difficult
Only those that
Revel in our antics
Delight in our existence
Care or care not
Should we leave
We chew to collect
Building to burrow our young
Sleep for another day
Tiny hands resemble many hands
We wait, we watch
We hope

Kristen Haskell

Monday, January 24, 2011

The quill sharpened not for ink pot
pierce my skin
Currency flashes leaving me wretchedly
You want to know
It hasn't even been a month
yet and still you can't get your hands on it fast enough
back off for a minute
take a breath and realize
six weeks ago it did not exist.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Things to be really thankful for today

  1. I got to talk to Patti.
  2. Got to talk to Mom (Steve's Mom) and Valerie.
  3. My Father-in-Law made it through a surgery without complications.
  4. My friend Marty was given wonderful news, he is cancer free.
  5. I got to take the most deluxe shower in my new shower.
  6. Randy removed a five gallon bucket full lint from my dryer vent, saving my house from burning down and hopefully eliminating the three hours it was taking to dry a load of towels.
  7. Randy did some maintenance on our heater and changed the filters.
  8. Our dogs delight me everyday.
  9. Sam helped me a lot like she does everyday.
  10. I got a wonderful message from my neighbor Margaret.
  11. Image from Google Images
  12. Life is good I have no complaints.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Snow Day in Springfield Missouri

A Snow Day Blessing

It is still snowing and everything is so peaceful.
I am grateful for this day and the beauty of it.
Those that have to travel in weather of any kind
I wish for you a safe journey.
I would like the peace of this day to transcend
our personal sphere embracing even those we dare
call enemies.

Kristen Haskell

Monday, January 17, 2011


Google Image

Little symbols lace the papers of your diary
Scattered among
Shards of paper
Words that cut like glass
Bemused I sit and write this

And wonder, I wonder
What was it that made you tick
Some days happy go lucky
Some days mentally sick

Quiet seems to be what you desired most
But without warning you were up like a shot
Moving from coast to coast
Explaining your needs on deaf ears
Tired ears
Ears that could no longer hear
Is that why you left
Did you need to go somewhere
That you could be heard
Somewhere where sense could be made of your word

I wonder now
Is it arrogance or the bond
Between us that makes me believe
I miss you most
Or is it that I have the time to write and ponder
Let my mind wander in the why of it all
I have just enough effrontery to blame God for this call
I want her back but there is no turning back now
I have to live with her death, like it was easy
Like I have the know how

More or Less

Image provided by Google Images

What do we need?
Is it very much?
Can we get by on less?
Would it cause or subtract the stress?

Less is less and less is less mess
Less is not a bad thing
Unless there is too much less
Than more, we adore the thought of more
We implore and when we get it
for maybe a moment, we are happy with more.
But the cycle repeats with more and we discard
Via yard, or on an ocean waste barge to obtain less.
And once again less becomes less stress and
More is not what we were looking for.

Kristen Haskell

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Sonnet 18

As long as men can breathe or eyes can see
so long lives this and this gives life to thee.
Sculpture in San Diego, California

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date,
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Mary's Song

Her tempo dwindled on labored days
And flew with grace on others
Clear clean air was all that was needed
And a gently working passage way

Her melody was practiced and practiced
Until a finely tuned instrument was achieved
And years changed her singing voice
It became quiet lovely

Adagio moving and rising on angels wings
In accelerando she took flight
Never looking back or
Saying goodbye with her final
Exhalation in exaltation for her maker
Screams and a heart that could no
Longer beat for her children

Photo provided by Tess Kincaid for Magpie Tales

Monday, January 10, 2011

A Combo Entry

Yesterday I was suppose to write my gratitude entry for the week. I never even got out of bed yesterday. I felt lousy, overly emotional and just plain tired. I was quiet all day. I had one long over due phone conversation with my neighbor and friend in the morning and than after that I vegged.

We were supposed to continue to go through my mother's things but my brother's had too much happening and we all couldn't pull it together. That was probably a blessing and that is what I am grateful for. That I allowed myself the time to just be quiet. I needed it and today I felt a lot better for it.

452 × 600 - Solitude - Anthropomorphic Echo, 1935 - oil on canvas - - 36 x 26 cm ...

A poem I found on written by James Adair.
I hope you enjoy it. Right now it is the best I could hope for.  

In The Solitude Of Prayer 

 In the solitude of prayer deep
Lost in moments in between
Weep and sleep

In the solitude of prayer
Loneliness finds a rest
Survived another test
Brings out our best

In the solitude of prayer
With nobody there
Except those far away
Reminded of their distant care

In the solitude of prayer
You pray for their smile
For their personal trial
Silently, all the while

In the solitude of prayer
Dreams seem more near
More hope than fear
Thoughts of those past those dear

In the solitude of prayer
Pray for their souls kind
Whose memory is still in your mind
And in your heart

In the solitude of prayer
Pray for your dear friends
Whose heart's you defend
As your own heart they mend

In the solitude of prayer
As for God's wisdom
And his love
As all love comes from above

In the solitude of prayer
Find grace to forgive
And to truly give
And to live

In the solitude of prayer
Recall how to dream
Of warm embraces of affection
And of love returned in your direction

In the solitude of prayer
Pray with conviction
Pray for the impossible
Without fear or restriction


Friday, January 7, 2011

The Powder Grew Back

This particular memory is not mine but one that my mom had of my youngest brother. She wrote it down on a slip of paper and named it Precious Moments with Billy. I found this slip of paper recently and decided it was worth sharing. This was in the seventies when it happened and Billy would have been about five years old.

My mother and Billy were sitting on bleachers watching my other brother Jack play a scrimmage with his Pop Warner football team. A small brown and orange butterfly fluttered over and landed on the bleachers near my brother. Billy was completely enthralled by his new friend and gently picked him up. The butterfly was more moth like and had a big eye in the tips of his wings.

Stolen from Google Images
 My mother cautioned my brother to be careful with the butterfly. He held the butterfly for quite a bit of time examining it and delighting in having it in his hands. Pretty soon he decided that he wanted to play on a nearby swing-set rather than hold his friend.

He told my mom that he wanted to set him free so he opened his hands but the butterfly did not move. He was concerned about this and looked closer. He declared, "Mom there is powder on my hands, he can't move because his powder wore off." Then he said, "that is okay, I will just wait with him until he grows new powder." So he sat and he waited and waited. Eventually the little butterfly took flight. He then told my mother, "his powder grew back quick." Then my brother was off playing.

My mother believed without reservation that this was a miracle and in some ways I guess it was. However, my five year old brother's patience was probably the real miracle.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Quirky Post Day

All images stolen from Google

Today I was sorting through my mother's things. I have been told that when someone passes away that clearing things gets harder the longer you wait. I am beginning to believe that this is completely true. At least it is in my case. I came across a little note of paper my mother saved, written by her mother when she passed away. It struck me as a great entry for my quirky post of the day. Here it is:

What is the largest ant there is?

an elephANT

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Twisted Emotions

Photo provided by Tess Kincaid
Twisted emotions flow down my spine
Sometimes I am just fine, sometimes
I pray for numbness.

How old was I the last time you held my hand
Did I let you hold it or did my independent nature
Yank it back from you.

Will I survive not talking with you
And you not answering me back?
This mourning sucks and I see no way clear of it
At least not anytime soon.

I am clearing your room and I want to paint it
Make it pretty and put you right back in it.
Damn it
 All I can do is paint it but it will never be pretty
Without you in it.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Inspirational Quotes

Image borrowed by Google Images

Never give up on something you can't go a day without thinking about. Author Unknown

Image borrowed by Google Images

Find the good, hold onto the good, enjoy the good. Kristen Haskell

Image borrowed by Google Images

Those who are free of resentful thoughts will surely find peace. Buddha

Monday, January 3, 2011

It Was but Not Anymore

There was only one lying on the floor
It was my mother’s glove
It was, but not anymore.

A slip of paper with her handwriting
Do I keep it? I do.
A voice mail message from her to me,
Hurried and worried.
How I wished she had said, “I love you”
at the end of that message. But she didn’t.

Diet coke without caffeine,
It was the last thing she ever asked of me
I gave her a hard time about it.
I awoke to her scream, I heard it
It was, but not anymore.

Photo by Tess Kincaid


Image borrowed by Google Images

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

William Ernest Henley 1849-1903

I dedicate this poem to my family this year. In my opinion, this is a beautiful poem that inspires strength and perseverance in the face of adversity. Life is filled with adversity, true grace and happiness is standing up when it is the last thing you want to do but you do it anyway.

Three things I hope for my family this year:

  1. Personal Strength
  2. Forgiveness
  3. Peace
For that matter, I dedicate this poem and those three things to all that read this post. Happy New Year.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

2011 Sunday's Gratitude Post

Peacock feather with Unakite and fresh water pearls
Made by me for Valerie Robins-Pell
Feather from her wedding to Michael

Some weeks back I outlined a whole new organizational structure for my living in the middle blog. I was hoping to start on January 1st and write a posting everyday for the next 365 days of this year. Well, I missed day one. Since the death of my mother, I have not been ready to even look at my blog. Normally, writing brings me a lot of comfort but I have been in a state of word paralysis. I am forcing myself out of this state by writing. Even if what I happen to write is crap or written poorly, I will write.

Gratitude entry for Sunday, January 2, 2011:

I am grateful for all of the love and kindness shown to me by others concerning my mother's passing. I had no idea it was this hard to lose a parent. I knew it was hard, I just couldn't fathom it before it actually happened.

What I have learned from this experience is that I am not ready to lose anyone else. In fact I need to find a few people that were lost to me not by death but by circumstance. So if I know you and you are thinking of kicking the bucket, DON'T! My heart can't take that. There are a few of you out there that I need to hug. Just for the record, what matters most now is what we do with the time we have.

As different as we appear on the outside
we are pretty much the same
on the inside all beings need love.
Wisdom Quote

One can not reflect in streaming water.
Only those who know internal peace can give it to others.
~Lao Tzu