High Hopes

Every. Week.

Every week, I knock them down and every week they build themselves up
& I feel bad yet, I am truly amazed.

They are ants
& their village sits in my backyard behind my big, bald tree.
I never would have noticed them, their hideaway is camouflaged well but, I did because I love cutting the grass and when my mind is zeroed in on my music and my lawnmower, I am surprisingly very observant
& yep, I see, I saw.

So there I am every week, clobbering their masterpiece
& there they are, every week, all built back up again
& again
& again

Don't ask me why because I do not know but that just absolutely Blows. My. Mind.
They're ants.
Teeny, tiny, pesty, coordinated, ants.
Minding their business, doing their thing
& being walloped by this monster machine every seven days yet, picking themselves up and starting from scratch, every single time.

Teamwork.
Organization.
Determination.
Try. Try. Try.
Do. Do. Do. 

It's really rather remarkable when you take the time to think about it, fellow human beings.
ANTS.

Thanks, Mother Nature.
Your lesson is learned
& uh, sorry, little fellas ... but yeah,
I'll see you soon.

:)

I Am My Feelings

 

Lane 6

This being Labor Day in these United States of America, I thought I'd reminiscence about my very first job.
It was at our local bowling alley, Plaza Lanes.
My title, "Porter".

I remember that very first job interview like it was yesterday.
Me, so nervous as I walked into the manager's office
& the ever so skilled manager easing my fears with an ice breaking joke.
I think his name was Mickey or Mike or Mikey.
Something like that.
It started with a 'M'.
He was nice.

My duties as a porter were to clean up the lanes, retrieve gutter balls, wipe down tables, empty ashtrays ...
Mickey Mike Mikey informed me that it would be a stinky, sticky job
& he was right.
But, I was 16.
Someone had to do it
& I was very happy to be that someone who did it.

The hours weren't all that great.
I'd get home around midnight, with school the next day.
Saturdays and Sundays too.
Whenever those bowlers were bowling, seems I was there
& I loved it, for awhile at least.

Retrieving those gutter balls though ...?
That was the worst
& truth be told, it was the reason I finally quit.
Porters' feet were not allowed to touch those lanes during games.
Never.
Because that would mess up the rolling of the balls.
So my fellow porters and I would have to walk on that in between lane separator thingie.
Which was fine for them but, for me ...?
uh
nope.

It was like an Olympic balance beam and I was the main event in the race for the Gold.
yikes.
I can still feel all those eyes upon my back
& as I'd make the turn after retrieving that darn gutter ball ...?

Hello.
Please don't stare.
please ?

When I gave Mickey Mike Mikey my two week notice I blamed it on school, homework and the much too late hours.
But, I lied.
I lied !
It was the pressure of the balance beam that broke me.

Surprisingly, I have visited our local bowling alley only once, maybe twice since those early working years.
I guess I'm not a bowler.
Every time I drive by the place though, I smile.
awwww the memories.

Hey, thanks for the opportunity Mickey Mike Mikey.
If it wasn't for those "Porter Needed ! Lane 6 !" tightrope walking jitters, I just might have stayed at Plaza Lanes forever.

:)

&
Happy Labor Day, my fellow Americans.
Relax, Enjoy.
Remember.

I Am My Feelings

Heart to Heart

When it comes to my everyday doing, being, living I have always been a keep it close to the vest kind of gal.
I don't let too many people into the grind of the day to day, most get my CliffsNotes
& that is why I am sometimes surprised at this blog of mine.
My daily rambles often express words I have trouble saying out loud.
I feel them but, my written words are much, much easier to say.

That being said, there are things that have been happening in my life for a long time now that I have not shared.
I figured it was Husband and my personal business
& personal business stays within.
No blogs words.
No social media status.
No account updates.
Nope.
In this case, in our case, we kept it tight.
We felt those who needed to know, knew.
Simple as that
& that's how it worked around here, year upon year upon year.

Until today.
Today, I'm spilling details.

Husband had heart valve replacement surgery and a pacemaker procedure in May, 2016
& he's doing good.
Doctor visits, cardio rehab, healthy eating, exercise.
Everything is coming along well.
There have been a few bumps in the road here and there but, all in all, big picture, I'd say he's on his way to better, much better.
But this is now, today.
There were a lot of our days before today that have not been all that great.
In fact, in a ten year span, we have had multiple hospital visits and much unpleasantness.
But, I'm not here to complain.
Life hands us things for a reason.

Long time ago, I had a childhood friend named Kenny.
Kenny was born with a hole in his heart and when we were in high school he had surgery.
I don't recall what the doctors were planning to do to repair Kenny's heart, but I do remember Kenny being nervous.
As he and I  talked about his upcoming hospital stay, I calmed Kenny's concerns as best as a 17 year old could with a, "You'll be back here in a few days Kenny. I'll see you soon!"
& Mom promised him pork chops.

I didn't realize it at the time but, the older I get I am convinced Kenny had to die so others could live.
The doctors learned something the day my friend left this life
& the advancements the medical profession have made since 1976 are astounding.
Many a 'Kenny' died to get us to where we are today.

The American Heart Association is holding their annual Heart Walk soon
& Husband, family, friends and I will be there
& yeah.
This is a big deal.
A BIG, BIG deal.
Husband is walking.
He's committed himself to a mile and I am positive he will accomplish.
He's come a long, long way
& that is why we are sharing our story.

I suppose Husband and I could have tossed this out into the open years ago.
We could have detailed every step of our way to all who would listen.
Instead, we chose to keep it closed because that's who we are and how we roll.
But now, today ...
We are sooooooo paying it forward.

This AHA Heart Walk is not only for Husband and how far he has come.
It's for Kenny
and Mom
and Brother
and Cousin
and Friend
and for all those people out there who have died, who have lived.
For them, I will happily walk, donate and spread their words LOUD and clear.

I tip my hat, I offer a cheer American Heart Association.
To who and what you are, to how and why you do.
Thank you.

THANK. YOU.

:)

I Am My Feelings

Blink Blink

There is one of us in every family
& I must confess.
I am THAT one in mine.

It's picture time.
Everybody is dolled up, lined up, set up.
Nice and nice.
Pretty and pretty.
& ...
Are we ready ?
Ready ?
Ok.

Here. We. Go.

One.
Two.
Say Cheese.

CHEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZ  !!!!!!

There !
Over There.
See the person with her eyes closed ?
Yeah.
That's me.
The Blinker.

Yep.
I am confidently embarrassed to say, it happens allllll the time.

I think it goes back to the flashbulb days.
My eyeballs have never quite recovered from the chain reaction of blue dots that followed that humongous flash.
Apparently I still have a few DOT DOT DOT issues so, please be kind.

My blinking eyes might also be caused by the pressure of being known as the family blinker.
The more I am reminded not to blink, the more I think about blinking.
It's intense.
Intense, I tell you.

I have improved over the years, though.
As technology advanced, so did the need to close my eyes at the wrong time.
At least, I think I have improved.
We'll never really know since every single one of my duds are immediately eliminated from existence.
Delete.
Delete.
Delete that one too.
whew.
It never happened.

I try.
I really try.
& when I do ?
My family is graced with a way too wide eyed picture of me instead. 
ooops.

scary.

Yes. Yes.
The rumors are true.
I am the reason for many a goofy family picture.
I am the cause of a thousand Grrrrrrrs.
I am the originator of the redo. Redo. REDO ! ! !
I am The Blinker.

sigh.

Now.
Can we try this again ? ! ? ! !

One. More. Time.

! ! Cheese ! !

:)

I Am My Feelings

My No Name Plant

There's this plant I have that's been in my family for years and years and years
& I'd tell you it's plant name but, I'm terrible with names, especially plant names.
So yeah, I have no idea.
It's just this plant that's been around forever.

The planter this plant sits in was my Grandmother's
& somewhere down the line it ended up at Mom and Dad's.
A plant sat in that planter in a corner of their house, all cozy and content, throughout a good portion of my life
& I'm pretty positive my no name plant is not the original plant in Granny's planter but, maybe it is ?
I'll have to ask Dad because he knows these things.
But, either way, once THIS plant moved into THAT planter, she never moved out.
It was an instant love connection and they have been together ever since.

I cannot tell you how awesome that plant thrived in that planter, in that house.
She was a BEAUTY and something to be envied and admired.
Lovely and prosperous is what she was and how she lived
& then, for reasons I don't really recall, she moved over to my house.

Now, don't get me wrong.
I am not, I repeat NOT, a plant killer.
Well ... ummm ... errr ... yes.
Yes, I am.
I kill Ferns.
But, that's another story for another day.
I must stay on track.

Happily, the unknown name plant in my Granny's planter actually thrived at my house too.
For quite a lotta years.
She was big, strong, pretty
& I honestly don't know what happened.
Maybe I just didn't notice her deterioration ?
Maybe I watered her too much ?
Maybe I didn't water her at all ?
I have no idea.
She was FINE
& then, she wasn't
& I still cringe at the thought of the day I found her all withered up and ready to call it quits.

OH NO YOU DON'T.
Nooooooo You Don't !! I cried to that little plant.
YOU have been in this family way, wayyyyyy to long to leave us now.
Please.
Please don't go, I pleaded.

I hurriedly grabbed some Popsicle sticks.
I took those sticks and I propped her up.
I prayed.
I hoped.
That's all I could do.
I hoped that there were enough roots left in her little self to grab onto some dirt and give life another try.
C'mon. C'mon.
YOU CAN DO IT.

Well.
I'm happy to report my unnamed plant has now sprouted  a new sprout
& they are on their way to looking good.
& I couldn't be happier.
I didn't give up on her and she didn't give up on me.

YaY.

So WHAT'S YOUR POINT ???? you ever so patiently ask ??

If there is even the teeniest, tiniest, sliver of a slight chance to hope, HOPE.
Because there is always, always, ALWAYS a teeny, tiny, sliver of a slight chance of hope.
It's there, somewhere.
Grab it, treasure it, prop it up, if you must.
Never, ever give up on hope.
Ever.

You just never know when it'll be your time to blossom.
Again.

:)

I Am My Feelings

 

Sharing Kindness

Ok, I admit.
I was a bit nervous.
I'm not all that good at new situations
& this was very.
I had never been in a mosque before.

My 'what if' wonderings were eased immediately though, as Husband and I were greeted with smile after friendly smile
& I thought, hey, they might be a little anxious too.
We all are just people.

Turns out, the Open House was packed with fellow human beings.
Neighbors, church groups, new friends gathered together.
Somewhere in the conversation of the evening someone giggled, there is no better way of getting to know one another than by sharing food
& they were right.
Conversation and laughs could be heard all around.

We were given a tour and I was genuinely surprised at the simpleness of the structure.
Growing up Catholic, I was under the impression that most all places of worship were detailed and decorated and I was very much expecting extravagant.
There were no symbols or signs other than an almost unnoticeable but, quietly pretty, calligraph Allah
& that very much impressed me.
We were informed that Islam teaches there are no words or art or anything really, that can describe the greatness of God.
They pray in unornamented simplicity.

Questions.
Did anyone have questions ?
& many were asked, many were answered.
Open and honest discussions were started and things learned by inquiring.

I heard words sung by incredibly soothing voices with a power point translation for those who weren't sure what was being said
& the message was the same as the message of all religions.

Love God.
Love others.

& as I sat there feeling the unity of people opening up there hearts to other people, I thought, it truly can be that easy.

I'm so thankful Husband and I decided to walk across the street and take part in that delightful Open House.
We could have parked ourselves in front of our tv, or ventured out to a Friday night festival or just downright ignored the mosque's kind invitation.
But, we went
& we happily experienced a whole lot of wonderful.

Person meeting person meeting person.
People sharing space and time on this awesome planet called Earth.

Love God.
Love others.

Yes, it really, really is that simple.

:)

I Am My Feelings

 

Entranced

I was going to write a long, detailed blog about something or another today, until I looked outside.
There is a hawk sitting on top of my big, bald, backyard tree and I just can't stop watching him.

He's no stranger to these parts, he visits that spot quite often but, there's just something about the way he is perched up there, all proud and strong and bold.

I think it's the way the other birds are scurrying about and around him.
Hurry, hurry they are all in a hurry.
Chatter, chirpy chatter.
Go Go Go
& there's Mr Hawk.
Calm down, my peeps.
I got this
& I'll fly when I'm good and ready to fly.

Patience.
That mighty bird is a gentle, morning reminder to have patience.
When the time is right, the time will be right.
It's as simple as that.

Until then, let the busy world be busy.
Because the go getters will forever go
& those noisy ones will continue their noise.

Prefer the hawk's view.
Quiet, firm, steadfast, determined.

Trust the power of your soar.

:)

I Am My Feelings