My first entry for #jusjojan – I find it fascinating that this is 2020, just like hindsight is 20/20, and it’s always easier to look back and criticize than to look forward and dream. I do not make resolutions they are too confining and demanding for this stage of my life. Too negative. I set intentions, visualizations of the life I would like to live this year, and I plan. How will it all come about? We shall see … we shall see.
This year I intend to live my life Louder To sing and laugh loudly and more often To wear more hats and sparkly T-shirts
This year I will be awed by the perfection of a single rose and the beauty of a weed in the sidewalk
This year I will splash in more puddles remember that life is better barefoot and that music is the key to the soul
This year I will dance under the moon, stare at the night sky, read poetry and ponder the big questions
I will cherish tiny moments of perfection look for everyday epiphanies seek the sacred in the ordinary
I will take a step outside and dance in the rain to find the mystical in the mundane
For Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday – our fitting final prompt for 2019 is “year.” Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “year.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
It was a year both terrible and glorious filled with tragedy and triumph a year of great loss and equally great victory and in between, it was filled with the very core of spirituality those stormy Mondays and rainy Saturdays flowers, weeds, good soup and tea and all the mundane and glorious details of this epic fantasy we call life
Winter is coming …. oh wait it’s already here, uhhhh Christmas, Christmas, that’s what’s coming. At this time of year, a lot of us need to hone our skills in the art of “suspension of disbelief.” So come along, journey back with me to 1897 and behold the answer to the ultimate question (hint it’s NOT 42).
DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus? VIRGINIA O’HANLON.
115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.
“VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.Continue reading “The Goose is Getting Fat”→
Like the sunbeams that break through a window in the dense clouds so a single happy thought breaks through the window of my mind, casting light on the shadow of depression and my heart begins to sing once more
For all of us who suffer from varying degrees of Holiday depression
Lord Send that Morning – Evie
“Lord send that morning with light so bright it fills my soul with song and I will look up to the heavens and laughing I will say ‘I saw that morning coming all along.'”
Last week we had our first blizzard of the 19/20 winter season. Winds gusting at 65mph and temps in the single digits (fahrenheit) can make for some real challenges for spoonies. Many folks with autoimmune and/or chronic illness (myself included) are profoundly sensitive to cold weather. (OK, I’m actually profoundly sensitive to all weather, cold, hot, changing, you name it, but I digress.) Today I’m going to share a few things we do around the house to keep ourselves warm.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “key.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
The Key to Her Success
The skinny little wretch sat there on the barstool, mocking me.
“Oh the key to my dieting success? I just forget to eat sometimes.” She said it calmly while scarfing down an order of wings with blue cheese and one of those silly froo-froo cocktails with enough sugar to put someone like me into a coma.
I may have rolled my eyes just a little while she polished off the double order of grease and goo. I mean honestly, forget to eat? Really? Lady you gotta be some kind of stupid to forget to eat.
Now I’m in my 60’s, and I’ve forgotten a LOT of things. I’ve forgotten the budget report the day I was supposed to present it to the board of directors. I’ve forgotten my keys, forgotten where I parked my car (once when I was at home). I’ve forgotten my parents anniversary, I’ve forgotten my own anniversary. I’ve forgotten my children’s names, I’ve forgotten my purse, my phone, my bra (yeah let’s not dwell on that one). I’ve forgotten to unplug the iron, I’ve forgotten how the heck to open that stupid child-proof zip lock bag and had to get my grandson to help me. But never, ever, not once, have I forgotten to EAT.
“You don’t look bad honey, you should just get so busy you forget all about eating for awhile.”
I smiled my best Monalisa smile, snatched the last wing off the plate, chugged the last of my light beer and belched. “Sorry girlfriend, just won’t work.”
For the second time in 12 years, I find myself NOT cooking dinner for 200+ people. No really, I made Thanksgiving dinner at an RV park we stayed at. Park bought the turkey, gravy, ham and potatoes. I shoveled stuff in and out of ovens, peeled, cooked and mashed 60 pounds of potatoes! Yeah, kind of glad that’s over with 😉 Last year we were in New Zealand where in February they celebrate Waitangi Day a national day of thanksgiving. Ahhhh the memories.