Lucy's Logic

What Day is Today?

2011-08-16T18:57:00.000-04:00

Today is National Tell a Joke Day! Do you have a good joke to tell? Are you a good joke teller? Because it might be the best joke in the world, but if you are a rotten joke teller, then it just becomes that....a rotten joke.

So have a go at it...tell a joke. Make someone laugh! Here is mine...

There is this 75 year old woman...she has been married for 55 years when her husband up and dies on her.
Isn't too long before she starts getting lonely and decides to put an ad in the paper for a companion.
"Wanted a good looking senior man who is faithful, won't run around on me, won't beat me and is still capable of having great sex."
Well lo and behold, not more than two hours after the ad runs, her door bell sounds off.
She's a bit nervous, but nothing could prepare she for the shock of what was on the other side of her door when she opened it!
The man facing her said, "I am here in response to the ad you placed."
The poor woman found herself stammering and stuttering, "but, but, you have no legs"
"Nope," he said, "So I won't be running around on you!"
"But, but, you have no arms!" she cried.
"That is true madam. Therefore, I won't be beating you either," he explained.
"And what about the sex?" she asked.
"I rang the doorbell didn't I"

Ba da Bing!!!
Ba da boom!!!!

Change

2011-08-01T21:48:00.000-04:00

Shutter Sisters, a photography blog I have always admired and loved, has a monthly project: "one word" in which photographers interpret the word through the lens of their camera .

Because I have just begun to blog again, I am so far behind, not only on writing, but also on reading,
catching up often finds me behind the eight ball. Therefore, I find myself thinking about the July prompt on August first. The word for July was "life". Life captured through the lens of my camera...

First Step

2011-08-01T17:14:00.001-04:00

I did it....

I took the first real step. The step that included money and paperwork. Oh and a three hour test!

Yep...I did it!

OH SHIT!

What am I doing???? I can still bail. It will only have cost me $95.00 and three hours of my time.

NO! Damn it!

I have done bigger scarier things! I got divorced after 30 years! What is scarier than that!

Yep...I did it!

Well....only part of it.

There is still a whole lot more to do!

Stay tuned.....

You Know...

2011-07-31T21:43:00.000-04:00

If you have had three cell phones...all the same make and model, and all three phones have had some kind of mechanical malfunction, chances are the fourth one Sprint is trying to force you to take will too!

Yes, I can be difficult if I don't get my way. But really, do you think I am being unreasonable for insisting on having a different make and model, completely new, out of the box, after no less than three phones have gone bad in less than one year. Really??????

After all, I have paid my bill, and included in that bill is a charge every month for insurance on the phone that has had to be replaced three times in a year. And they are telling me they want me to get a fourth just like it????? Really??????

Oh, that's right...it is their policy. You know...procedure. Rules....

In other words, it is a way for Sprint to fuck its customers and it worked! I just spent $125.00 on a new out of the box phone.

I hate Sprint......

Expect the Unexpected

2011-07-19T16:37:00.001-04:00

It is not where I expected to be
It is not what I expected to be doing
It is not how I expected things to turn out
It is not who I expected to become

On the day I turned 50.....

the journey

2011-07-18T17:23:00.000-04:00

walk with me on this journey

take my hand. together we will travel our path

to wherever it goes

walk with me on this journey

over paved paths through grassy fields

where our breaths come easy and our hearts beat as one

walk with me on this journey

through dark forests wrought with sounds mysterious and chilling

stay with me on the convoluted trails that seek to confuse us along our way

walk with me on this journey

down streets filled with strangers to places unknown

partaking in adventures filled with excitement, with trepidation, with joy

walk with me on this journey

let us be each other's guide as we traverse the rugged mountain terrain

struggling to reach the pinnacle...pulling the other along

walk with me on this journey

take my hand. together we will travel our path

to wherever it goes

On Being Single #1

2011-07-17T22:36:00.000-04:00

Being single after 30 years of marriage is, well.....interesting. Ok....there are a plethora of words I could use to describe what my life has been like since my divorce...but interesting will suffice for this particular topic.

Being single as it relates to the opposite sex is the topic at hand. And this shall be my first installment of what I know will be many many more postings regarding said issue. So without further ado I give you the first installment of:

On Being Single

I seem to attract only the weirdos at the bar. I go to the bar to dance and to only dance. I love to dance! I dance by myself or with a few select men I know VERY well. I even wear a sparkly ring on the fourth finger of my left hand to give the impression I am married. Most men just leave me alone. That makes me very happy! But then you have the weirdos!

Let me set the scene: Girlfriend and I are standing at a table talking. Man with hair that looks like he stole it from a Muppet, walks over to me and says:

Muppet man: You are the most beautiful woman in the bar. Are you an Aries? Because that's my hobby.
Me: Thank you. No, not an Aries.
Muppet man: No? Well then you must be a Libra.
Me: Nope not a Libra either. You've got 10 more. Maybe you should get a new hobby!

Girlfriend and I dance off to the dance floor with drinks in hand. Who knows what kind of Leo/Gemini voodoo stuff Muppet Man would have put in our drinks if he had had the chance!

Scene Two, different week, same bar: I have been a dancing maniac for hours. A male friend is with me and we are having a great time. I am aware of a guy watching from a distance...but there are alot of guys watching the dance floor. No big deal....until I go to the bathroom. Upon exiting the bathroom, I notice a man leaning against the wall adjacent to the restroom door. He reaches for my hand as I walk past stopping me:

Bathroom Stalker: You are absolutely gorgeous.
Me: Thank you
Bathroom Stalker: I have been waiting for an opportunity to tell you that all night
Me: I don't know what else to say to that except Thank you?

I walk away thinking, did he really just follow me to the bathroom and lurk outside the door until I came out to tell me that? Well, guess what Mr. Bathroom Stalker...jokes on you! There was no soap in there so I couldn't wash that hand you grabbed onto! Ha!

It's a jungle out there ladies...be careful!

I Wonder...

2011-07-16T12:59:00.000-04:00

I wonder if you have missed that passion we shared in the beginning...
I wonder if you lie in bed at night and ache to have me in your arms...
I wonder if you remember the feel of my skin beneath your finger tips...
I wonder...

Tough Week

2011-07-14T19:42:00.000-04:00

I sit here on this lovely Thursday evening just simply spent. Utterly and completely exhausted. My body is aching and my mind is spinning out of control. The aching body courtesy of lifting a 44 pound boy all day (story on him later) and my mind whirling at tonadic speeds due to decisions made, decisions to make, and events to face.

Since I don't have the energy to dig a hole big enough to crawl in and I can't find a rock big enough to pull in behind me once the hole is dug...I think I will go get ice cream. Ummmmm, Jeni's ice cream. Maybe a pint of goat cheese with red cherries, or sweet corn and black raspberries, or peach buttermilk. Ah what the hell...I am going get one of each, sit in the middle of the floor with all three pints and a single spoon!

Things are looking better already!

Rain on a Sunny Day

2011-07-09T18:12:00.003-04:00

On a recent spring day, I made a stop at a small cemetery I have been wanting to visit. I find cemeteries fascinating...full of history, art, beauty and peace. As I walk among those resting beneath the fertile ground, I imagine the lives of those whose names are carved into the cold stone and the stories that died with them.
I have no personal connection to anyone whose name is displayed on a grave marker here. There is no one who rests in these sacred grounds familiar to me. I know though, there is no need for familiarity and connection to understand the pain of loss.

His car pulled alongside the gravesite just a few feet beyond where I was standing. As he exited his car and walked across the gravel to the soft grass bordering the road, his hand rose in a gentle wave toward the dappled grey stone. It was as if someone was expecting this elderly gentleman and he knew it.

I saw his lips begin to move as he gazed intently upon the cold, hard granite before him...conversing with whoever lay beneath this marker. He was smiling as he talked. His eyes focused and intent. His face full of love and compassion. My heart felt as if it were going to explode...tears made their way down my windblown cheeks. I struggled to breathe as sobs escaped me only to disappeared into the wind. I found myself grieving for myself: Will anyone stand at my grave and love me like that when I am gone?

But then the strangest thing happened...it began to rain. As I gazed toward the heavens, the sky was crystal blue. There was not a cloud to be seen anywhere around me. It was completely clear...yet there were definitely raindrops falling on my head. The grave stones were getting wet. The ground had begun to show a pattern of small wet circles as the raindrops fell. The heavens were grieving with me.

And then, as quickly as it began...it stopped. The sky maintained its beautiful crystal blue hue. And still there was not a single cloud around me, not one. The tears had stopped falling…and so had mine.

Dropping In

2011-07-08T16:49:00.003-04:00

Funny thing to do isn't it...dropping in on your own blog. I was surprised I even remembered how to log in. Now mind you, I had to try a couple of times before I got the right password. But I did and now here I am. To what end?

I think about going back to writing often. It isn't as though I have stopped. I do write...I just do it with a pencil and paper now. I find what I am writing these days is so personal and sometimes not the most uplifting. I am somewhat afraid to share it with the world. Baring the soul and all...

My life has changed so drastically in the last nearly two years. I often use an amusement park to illustrate how I picture my days. There was a time I felt like I spent most of my day riding the roller coaster with an occasional sojourn upon the painted ponies, spinning mindlessly in circles, hypnotized by the sound of the calliope. Fortunately, my days are now spent with more time upon those brightly painted ponies and less on the chaotic, speeding, heart pounding roller coaster. But those changes are still hard to embrace.

I would like to come here more often. I would like to make a habit of it. I would like to begin writing again...writing things I want to share. I would like to share again...the good things that are happening. And there are many.

I would also like to share some of the difficult again. I found so many friends here. People who were empathetic, sympathetic. People who were always there with kind words and wisdom. I always appreciated that above all else!

So I will try. I will try not to be a guest on my own blog. I will try to be here often. I will contribute what and when I can. What can it hurt? Perhaps it might even help....

Out Of The Mouth Of Babes

2010-09-20T20:31:00.002-04:00

I want you to try to visualize what I witnessed today. It is your typical school cafeteria, white, sterile, too bright, echoing, tables with bench seats attached in rows arranged like tombstones. Are you with me so far?

Now picture at one of those tables 11 children aged three to four seated hap-hazard about. There are boys and girls, blue eyed, brown eyed, dark and light haired. Some are skinny, some still carry that little bit of baby fat we all love to snuggle and squeeze. But at the head of the table there is one, a young man who's skin is dark, hair the color of ebony and eyes bright and always looking for the next adventure.

Out of nowhere I hear his voice, this young man who came from an orphanage in South America. I turn to look and see what he is up to, stay with me: I see his arms reaching for the heaven's, his head bent back looking high, and the words resounding from his tiny little frame were anything but little and tiny....

"Thank God for the Blessings we have received"

I think he found his calling!

Hanging up

2010-09-19T20:59:00.002-04:00

A year...what has happened to you in this last year?

Me? Too much to remember and even more that should be forgotten.

The headline:

Lucy has hung up on the past. A new shingle with a new name, a new attitude, and a new journey.

Welcome back Lucy...I have missed you

Surreality?

2009-09-09T14:05:00.003-04:00

Lately it seems as if I am a spectator of my life. As if I am standing to the side watching someone who looks like me, sounds like me go through the day doing the things as me. I think I am stuck somewhere between surreal and reality.

Update

2009-08-30T19:37:00.004-04:00

Some background:

The young man below is not related to us by blood, but could not be more ours if one of mine had birthed him. He has been a part of our lives pretty much since the day he was born. He belongs to a friend of our daughters. It is a convoluted and confusing story, but one that has our middle born giving up her life to pretty much raise this young man. We are Mam Maw and Pap Paw.

We delight in his joys and agonize in his hurts. We have supported him emotionally, physically (including cutting a tightly wrapped hair from his penis...but that is another story) and at times financially. He has been exposed to the finer things because of our daughter and us. I often wonder where he would be without our entire family and then shudder and quit thinking about it.

His mother tries I guess. She is not a stupid woman. She is a hard worker, never without a job. Young...gave birth at 18 and single. Father was not involved until this boy was two. He is a piece of work...though I guess he tries too. I try to give them both the benefit of the doubt but today nearly put me over the edge.

As you can see in the picture and post below there was an accident involving this young man's eye. Not serious...but concerning enough to need medical care and follow-up treatment. I called this morning to make sure the follow-up treatment took place...gut feeling told me something was out of place. No answer on the phone...shit.

Mom finally calls me back and starts immediately telling me she could not take him to the doctor for his recheck due to lack of insurance. Dad has failed to keep the policy active and she can't afford to pay the cost of the visit in cash. Never mind that this is his EYE...his vision. What is the price of seeing going for these days?

I thought I was going to blow a gasket. I wanted to start screaming. I didn't. I just told her I would figure out something and call her back. It is now 11:00am on Sunday morning. I called my optometrist's office and leave a message on his emergency number. He calls me back.

I try to explain as best I can what is going on. I ask him if he would please do me a huge favor and look at his eye for me. I am nearly in tears by this time I am so angry and frustrated at this mother's lack of concern for her child and his vision.

I HAVE THE BEST EYE DOCTOR IN THE WORLD!!! He was more than willing to look at his eye.

When I called mom to tell her to have the boy ready to go, this is what she said: "Is he an optometrist or an ophthalmologist?" If she had been standing in front of me at this point I might have grabbed her by the throat and choked the life out of her as not more than 10 minutes earlier she didn't care if he saw a doctor or not! OMG!

Anyway...enough of the terrible mother rant. Bottom line...his eye is completely healed. His vision is intact and fine. And get this...the doctor charged us....NOTHING!

Again.....I HAVE THE BEST EYE DOCTOR IN THE WORLD!!! Dr. Jeffrey Cappelle you are the best!

Boys Will Be Boys

2009-08-30T09:14:00.003-04:00

And accidents happen! A buddy's finger in the eye resulted in a scratched cornea. Fortunately eyes heal quickly. And after a visit to the eye doctor this morning hopefully he will be seeing just fine!

Notice the missing bottom tooth? His tooth fairy left him $5.00...talk about inflation!

WTH?

2009-08-29T21:57:00.003-04:00

Click to enlarge (is he missing a tooth?)

Sooo...I went to a quilt show today and this was part of the exhibit. I apologize for the quality ofthe photo but I had to sneak to take it as no photos were permitted, (I could not help myself).

The artist explains she was compelled to create this work of art due to her discontent with the current state of this nation's politics. She followed that with a quote by Barack Obama. I am sorry I do not have it verbatim but it was in regard to the controversy surrounding the flag pin ordeal.

I just didn't get it. Obama is Jesus? Jesus is an American? God bless Obama? Jesus likes flags? Jesus needs a good tailor?

UH?

2009-08-29T21:22:00.003-04:00

Ever wonder if the reflection is the reality and the reality is the reflection?

A Transformative Moment

2009-08-21T08:46:00.003-04:00

I came about this sort of meme through Tessa, who I adore for her writing and her painting. Tessa links back to Steven of Golden Fish who asks bloggers to write about a transformative moment in their life. A little late on the draw here...but what the hell.

Transformative: to change in form, appearance, or structure...to change in condition, nature, or character.

I found myself in a land that was familiar, but not home. I would walk out of the door in the morning, surrounded by land masses that embodied 'purple mountains majesty' and wonder if those who lived here saw the beauty I did? Or did they just go about the day without noticing the gift mother nature lay at their feet.

My early morning journey took me to the sterile halls of the local hospital. Where the smell assaults your senses before you even enter the building. As I walked through those halls I would to think to myself, "I am much to accustomed to this." For I had taken this walk daily for the last 10 days. The same corridors, to the same room I had I spent 15 hours a day. To the bedside of the strongest woman in my life: My mother.

Unconscious and attached to a machine that forced air into her lungs. IV's in both arms. Catheters, tubes, monitors...technology keeping her alive. And every morning as I entered the room my first thought, "how did this happen?" There were no answers...only questions. All that technology and nobody could tell me why.

That particular day would be different from all the other days I had made the journey. I would sit beside her bed, talk to her, comb her hair and share with her the news of the day. "Mom, it snowed five inches in the desert, can you believe it!" All the while wishing this day was not happening.

Decisions...I was asked to make them for 10 days. Decisions that made the difference between life and death. Today I was not the one making the decision. My mother had made the decision years ago when she signed a simple document. I was asked if I had it, "yes." Though not asked to produce it. And the process began.

I stood there and wondered how my heart could ache so desperately and still continue to beat. How could my lungs continue to draw air as the machine discontinued to force air into her's? I held her hand and whispered words of comfort to her...what did I say? I don't remember now. I just knew I needed her to know it was okay to leave me, even as my entire body was screaming for her stop this nonsense and get up!

She didn't get up. She left me quietly in less than 10 minutes. Her body so ravaged by a disease that had no name. And I alone standing there to try and make sense of life without a mother. My mother...the one I looked like. The one whose strength and personality I bore. My mother...gone from me forever.

She was 61 years old. Too young to die. I was 36... too young to be without my mom. But life goes on doesn't it. And it was for me to decide how I was going to go about mine. A transformative moment? Without a doubt.

If you averaged the life of both my parents you would end up with 60 living years. Didn't look so good for me. A wake up call was had.

Before mom fell ill, I was about 30 pounds over weight. I didn't exercise and wasn't in the best of shape. I now found myself about 10 pounds lighter. The stress and starve diet does wonders. I made the decision to lose the rest and become as healthy as I could be.

I completely changed my eating habits and began to exercise regularly. I transformed my entire body in about six months. I went from a size 12 to a size two and felt better than I had in years. The hubby lost 20 just eating the good food I was cooking! I wanted live a long life and grow old and getting healthy was the beginning.

I also transformed my mind. Things that were important weren't so important anymore. My mom didn't enjoy her life. She worked hard nearly till the day she died. I was not going to be her. I made a pact to do the things I wanted to do. Never to put off those things. Do it now, for tomorrow may never come. All those cliche's...life is too short, live today etc. They are true. Life can change in an instant.

I am my mother's daughter in way's that extend beyond birth. I emulate her in my daily life, but I will not leave this earth with life undone and a heart that is heavy. I will live to be old and I just might wear lots of purple!

Transformative: to change in form, appearance, or structure...to change in condition, nature, or character. I did both!

Tell us about your transformative moment.

Symbols

2009-08-18T20:25:00.003-04:00

Just when you need it the most they appear. Those little things that give you the strength to carry on the fight.

I looked up and there he was, wings spread wide. White head reflecting the evening sun. He was gliding on the currents of the air effortlessly above the body of water that held his dinner. Perhaps he wasn't hungry or maybe just content to perch for a time. In a treetop, barren and white barked he landed. A bald eagle...the American symbol of freedom and strength.

I know it will all be okay now.

Image provided through google

Dust in the Wind

2009-08-18T19:12:00.004-04:00

Rage, bluster, threats, stomping feet.

Rambling, blaming, projecting.

Yelling, cussing, hurling accusations.

Rationalizing, self pity, emotional hijacking.

But when do you take responsibility for the lies?

Like the song said,

Same old song

Just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do

Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Defend that!

Precious

2009-08-14T15:16:00.000-04:00

Waiting on my seahorse

What a Face!

2009-08-10T09:16:00.004-04:00

Yep, that's my girl!

For more funny, silly faces click on the badge and visit I Heart Faces

Now That Really Is...

2009-08-08T14:03:00.000-04:00

A shitty thing to do.....................

http://www.daytondailynews.com/news/crime/call-for-possible-dead-body-a-foolish-prank-police-say-240498.html

You Won't Believe What I Saw Today

2009-08-05T22:23:00.007-04:00

It was the most amazing thing ever! I apologize for the quality of the pictures, but I was literally doing a 'hail Mary' with my camera over the crowd.

Do you see the hoof? That is her face still inside the amniotic sack.

Push! Mama Push!

That's a girl...one more

B pronounced it a girl because of her long eyelashes (he was right).

Mama was on her feet cleaning her baby right away.

Welcome little one

A Happy Ending

2009-08-05T09:29:00.004-04:00

As I watch these women walk off the plane after some 140 days as prisoners in North Korea I have tears falling from my eyes.

All politics aside...a mother holds her baby girl for the first time in five months. A sister caresses the face of her sibling as if she thought she would never feel that soft skin again. Parents hold their grown daughters as if they were young girls once again.

I never thought I would say these words: You done good Bill!

Summer On The Lake

2009-08-03T22:58:00.016-04:00

This is my lake.

A place I go to find myself when I am lost.

A place to share with those I love and cherish.

A place of joy, peace, and Mother Nature at her finest.

Welcome my friends...

Come and share what I so enjoy

A day on the Lake begins with the sun cresting the horizon

Fire burns on the water

Orange fills the sky

Warming the atmosphere for adventures

There are fish to be caught

Boats to be paddled

Family and friends gather

To share the fun

Places to explore
Creatures to see

Watch carefully

You never know what you will see

The day ends

The sun sets in the western sky

Hues of orange once again fill the horizon

We have come full circle

It will all begin again tomorrow

You all come back now...ya hear!

Click on the badge and see what others have done with their summers

Home

2009-08-02T18:23:00.003-04:00

It is nothing fancy. A cape cod situated on a street in a neighborhood that is as non-descript as the house. Vinyl sided, a light grey with black shutters...a green front door (matched the interior at one time). There are a few flowers in the front yard, some shrubbery...neglected lately as priorities have changed.

The interior is neatly kept most of the time. At least as neatly as can be with three dogs and a cat that shed like cotton weed in the spring. It isn't a designer showcase. Some decent art on the walls. Updated decor. It has been describe as 'homey' by the teenagers that used to congregate there. A better compliment I couldn't ask for.

Walls, floors, ceilings, windows...those things that make a shelter. But it is my home. It is the place I raised my children. But more than that...it is the place that my parents raised me. I have lived there all but five years of my life. That accounts for 43 years. That accounts for my life.

My home is as much a part of me as is my heart. The plaster that form the walls, encapsulates the days of my youth. The walls speak to me of memories. Memories of those who are no longer part of my life. My mother, father, and two brothers.

I see them all. I see them as I did when I was a young girl, in the good times, in the bad times. I hear the sound of their voices. Singing, laughing, crying, yelling. I can still see them sitting in their places. We all had our places. Michael at the register on the cold winter mornings. Mom on the right side of the sofa, Dad on the left, the dog in the middle of them. Patrick always in his room. And me...curled up against mom. I was a mama's girl.

My home...it became mine some 24 years ago. Mine......children conceived here. A second generation raised here. The same joy. The same struggles. Three children once again fighting the same battles. Full circle.

Home. It is where the heart is. But more than that. It is where the soul is.

Tell Shutter Sisters about your home

Hey Asshole!

2009-08-02T11:49:00.004-04:00

Large Rat

Defenseless Fawn

Apparently George Forbes, President of the local Cleveland are NAACP, doesn't know the difference and is incensed that Dorothy Richardson has been charged with cruelty to animals for beating a speckled back baby to death with a tool used for digging dirt.

Of course, the only reason she has been charged, are you ready, hold on to you head folks, get the duct tape out, sit down and open that Bud Light, I feel a beer summit on the horizon....drum roll please:

SHE IS BLACK!!!!!

I don't care what color she is...lock her ass up. I would have been happier if she would have shot the poor thing. Then at least it wouldn't have been screaming as she bludgeoned it to death with a large garden spade (no racial pun intended).

Wonder what Obama has to say about this?

Celebrate!

2009-07-22T10:45:00.007-04:00

This young man rode his chrome sting ray up our driveway when he was 14 years old. He was wearing a black trench coat and his hair was grown past his shoulders. Our son introduced him to us and he has been family ever since. We have now loved him half of his life.

Several years ago he brought home a lovely young woman.

She grew to love him and we to love her. She too became family.

This past weekend we celebrated their wedding. And it was a grand celebration. Our son was the best man and our daughter-in-law a bridesmaid and right hand in the coordinating. We were all there for the beginning of their adventure and now into what will be a life full of rock and roll fun!

Congratulations Greg and Christine!

what are you celebrating?

Amen!

2009-07-22T07:49:00.000-04:00

"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom. What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else. When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."

Adrian Rogers

He Is A LIAR Part II

2009-07-21T21:51:00.001-04:00

http://www.heritage.org/2009/07/21/morning-bell-obama-admits-hes-not-familiar-with-house-bill/

Read it....it just gets more and more unbelievable.

courtesy of Drudge

The Twilight Zone

2009-07-21T18:34:00.006-04:00

The conversation in her comment section went like this:

Lucy: "While I too am opposed to Obama's plan and have written about it on my blog as well, I take offense to this line in your post:"unintelligible, surly GED graduates" (Blogger's name omitted), I am one of those GED graduates you refer to. I'll admit that sometimes I am surly...but I am rarely unintelligible. I don't get your need to be snarky. With that line, you put down an entire population of people who made an effort to right a wrong and continue their education when whatever reason or circumstance stopped them previously. Again, snarky isn't necessary...its just mean. But if the shoe fits......:

Blogger's Response: "Lucy - Not every high school (or for that matter, college) graduate is honestly interested in continuing their education after they get a diploma and I daresay not every GED graduate is either. Props to you for doing so, but Lucy, have you ever been to the DMV? Seriously? I'm surprised some of them managed to finish GRADE school.

Lucy: "You missed the point...but I am not surprised."

Blogger's Response: Lucy - This is so funny. You come on my blog, get offended by something that wasn't even directed at you, and then call ME names. Do you work in the DMV? Did I say "all GED graduates"? No? Then I was clearly not referring to you.You seem to come here just itching for something to get your panties in a twist over. Something that you can relate to your own life so you can feel righteous when you declare, "I am so offended! Me me me!" People who act this way usually 1.) are slightly paranoid, 2.) have no sense of humor, or 3.) are completely self-centered. So, guess what? My blog is not about you or your own personal triumph over hardship. Sorry.

I refuse to continue this pointless exchange on this person's blog, as she only continues to miss the point. The point is this: Why does she feel the need to put down, name call, demoralize, bully etc. people on her blog? This is not the first time I have seen her do this and in fact I removed her from my blog roll for just that reason. She is not interested in constructive dialog when opinions differ. It is only hers that is important. That is fine...it is her blog. But why the need to be downright mean?

And she is right...why do I go there? Good question. I just had hoped for change. Oh shit...I really should give that up!

It seems to me she gets some kind of personal satisfaction from putting people down. I don't know...must be a self esteem issue. Not to be guilty of generalizing, just wonder when you have been disabled most of your life if it messes with your head.

I wouldn't know...I am just one of those lowly GED graduates who totes a gun (cuse I'm paranoid), throws down a few PBRs before breakfast, and wears a wife beater with my best camo BDUs. But damn that gravy stain...anyone got a stain stick? After all, it is all about me!

Do You Know This Person?

2009-07-20T12:27:00.003-04:00

Robs from the rich...

Gives to the poor...

Throws like a girl...

He is a LIAR

2009-07-20T11:58:00.002-04:00

I could not believe what I was hearing so I did the research myself.

Obama is a LIAR and a narcissist. If you believe he has your best interests at heart with his health care plan, you are an idiot. His constant reassurances that 'there will be choice' for those of us who don't want any part of a socialist medical system are bullshit.

If you don't have time to read the entire 1018 page document (as most of our Representatives surely did not) this is all you need to know:

"Protecting The Choice To Keep Current Coverage," the "Limitation On New Enrollment" section of the bill clearly states:
"Except as provided in this paragraph, the individual health insurance issuer offering such coverage does not enroll any individual in such coverage if the first effective date of coverage is on or after the first day" of the year the legislation becomes law. (http://www.ibdeditorials.com/IBDArticles.aspx?id=332548165656854)

In other words, if you need insurance after the law takes affect...you're fucked! Your only choice is Obama's policy.

It is all outlined on page 16 of the document. You would think he would have buried it deeper.

It makes me sick to my stomach. I don't think I have ever been this afraid for myself, my family and my country. In the words of a dear friend:

"It is time to start the revolution"

Ghosts

2009-07-20T09:17:00.003-04:00

I had a comment appear on a post from this blogger who calls himself Willie Dueright. I didn't recognize the name so I clicked on the profile to see who this stranger might be.

I was immediately struck by a sense of familiarity. The kind that stirs your gut. Are you who I think you are? Am I that friend you wrote about? Is it you, my friend who drops the one line in my email box every year. In fact, it was just yesterday I read it again...for I am another year older.

I am taken back some 30 plus years...yes it has been that long. To a time of teenage dreams and adventures both exciting and fraught with pain. We had fun...so much fun. Do you remember the time we went horseback riding and were so sore we could barely move the next day?

But then there are other memories both of us would rather not relive. Then again...didn't those things make us who were are today? And I think it is okay for us both. There have been struggles yes...but mostly life has been good for us both.

I am glad you are writing...write more. Write from the heart. You are and always were so expressive. Tell us your story...you who beat death twice. I am anxiously waiting.

If you remember, I was always one of your biggest fans.

and if it is not you...ignore the rantings of a madwoman

Mother Nature's Palate

2009-07-17T19:53:00.005-04:00

I haven't played in ages and when HSMSHS decided to do a week long theme I knew I wouldn't be playing until the end of the week. The theme was color in nature. So I dug through my old shots and found some of my favorite highlights of Mother Nature in action.

click to enlarge

Dog Watching the Sky on Friday?

2009-07-17T08:20:00.006-04:00

Even Henry enjoys watching the sun set on the point of the islands of his lake.
Visit other beautiful skies by clicking on the badge above

While Creeking One Day/Rocks

2009-07-16T08:03:00.008-04:00

Addendum July 18th: When I saw that the photo hunter theme was 'rock', well......

One of my favorite things to do when I was a child was 'creeking'. I lived in an area that had several small tributaries, shallow and teaming with life. We would put on our old tennies and spend hours stomping through the crystal clear water, over turning rocks to see what Mother Nature had hidden beneath. There were creatures in abundance for us to find...fish, crabs, salamanders, snakes.

Those days spent with my feet immersed and my hands exploring all things slimy were passed on to my children, as I still live in the same house. Though I will say it was my husband who spent most of the time in the shallows with them, for he too had many hours of experience in the creeks. I married a neighborhood boy.

And now we pass the tradition on to a third generation. A freckled face lad who came to know the secrets of the creeks at a young age. Papa introduced him to the rocky bottom shallows and its hidden secrets when he was about three and he has been captivated ever since.

But it was me who took him on this particular day...the day we found a treasure of a different sort. Left by whom...I don't know. But we took our picture and left it for someone else to find.

"In Vino Veritas (Truth in Wine)"

2009-07-11T10:50:00.004-04:00

Jason Evans of The Clarity of Night is sponsoring a short fiction contest. The contest is based on the theme "In Vino Veritas (Truth in Wine)" and this photo.

I do not consider myself much of a creative writer, but was intrigued and thought 'what the hell'. After some long hours and many drafts here is what I submitted:

Crystal Melody

By Lucy Logic

The sound of his voice resonated in her mind. High pitched and screaming, not unlike that of wet fingers rotating around the rim of a crystal wine glass. In fact, wasn’t that what she was doing when the words began to spill from his lips: mindlessly tracing her finger atop the edge of her glass?

“Beth, this isn’t fair to anyone. I’ve met someone else.”

She lost his words in the music of the crystal, in the color of the wine. Refusing to speak or look at him. She became desperate to play her tune. Round and round her finger went. Deeper into the depths of the blood red liquid went her mind.

“Beth, you have to say something!”

She did not respond. She could not respond. For the edge of this glass, cold and full of melody, was where sanity and reason resided. The rhythm of her finger holding her precariously to that edge.

“Beth!”

Lost in the melody, she did not lift her head to watch him walk out the door.

As the latch locked in place, he couldn’t help but have heard the crashing of the crystal as it shattered against the door behind him.

Sanity and reason trickled crimson down the wall. They pooled on the floor amongst the splintered pieces of her broken life.

Round and round her finger continued, tracing the edge of a glass that was no longer there.

Head over to Jason's to see what other incredible writers have submitted...I pale against their talent.

It's Friday

2009-07-10T20:36:00.004-04:00

And that means it is time for a beautiful sky! I never get tired of taking pictures of the lake sky. I am presented with some amazing vista views both morning and evening. I hate to admit it though lately I have been sleeping in and not seeing the sun rise.

Here comes the sun and I say...its more than alright!

J-E-L-L-O

2009-07-10T13:16:00.002-04:00

Do you remember that five note jingle? We all sang it at one time or another and we have all eaten this wiggly dessert in one form or another. I find it hard to believe there is a person out there who has escaped a molded jello dessert during a family holiday meal.

Jello...some of my favorite memories are centered around it. I remember in fifth grade we had an assignment that encompassed teaching the class a lesson on how to do a task from beginning to end. I taught my classmates how to make orange jello.

Jello...I still make a dish at Thanksgiving and Christmas that my mother always made...grated carrots and fresh oranges gelled in orange jello. Ummmmmmm. I make it, no one eats it. It's a tradition I can't let go of.

Then there are those jello shots. I have not had the pleasure but my husband has. His fortieth birthday. He was the first to leave...I am told they 'sneak' up on you.

I filled many a trash can with empty jello boxes when my kids were little, filling their fists with jello jigglers. Do you moms remember those? I made them with juice instead of water making myself believe I was giving them a more healthy snack!

Jello wrestling? Also don't have first hand experience with this. Sounds sticky...but I am sure there is a You-tube of it out there if you are really interested in seeing it.

Oh the things you can do with Jello. Anyone else care to share some memories?

Hello.....

2009-07-09T20:51:00.003-04:00

is there anybody out there...just nod if you can here me. Is there anyone at home?

I cannot believe it has been nearly a month since I last posted. Does anyone still read me? Have you been checking to if there is news in Lucy world, only to find the same old post still sitting there? I extend to you my most humble apologies. I do have excuses, many of them. But I will tell you what I tell my kids at school about excuses...they are like armpits and butt holes, everybody has them and they all stink!

All that matters is...I am back and hope to be posting regularly again.

..............................................................................

Now that school is out, I have been spending a great deal of time at the lake house. Just got Internet and television connected today. This is part of the reason I have not been posting...no connection. I was cut off from the outside world. It was great!

I do have to admit I did miss reading some of my favorite blogs (I caught up today), but I did not miss the TV one bit.

What is that you say, someone famous died? Oh yea, I think I heard that in the grocery store in the toilet paper aisle.

Hook, Line and Sinker

2009-06-16T20:27:00.005-04:00

The hubby went fishing a week or so ago. What did he catch you might ask?

Himself!

That is a beautiful fly fishing hook stuck in his forearm. You can't pull them out and because it was buried so deep, there was no way he could tolerate pushing it through. What I would have done for a vial of lidocaine and a small syringe. But alas, off to the hospital we went for the 'emergency' removal of the fancy hook.

As we sat in the Nemo room ( no kidding ) looking at the lovely underwater murals of the clown fish and his friend, the Dr. entered and I again lamented not owning some lidocaine thus saving all of us this trouble.

He reacted rather interestingly considering he didn't know us from Adam. His response was,
"With the way things are going, it won't be long before you do."

I knew then, he was a physician who saw the demise of medicine, his career and the practice of healthcare as we know it. If Obama is successful with his healthcare plan, our individual choices in our medical care will end and so will many, many, many lives.

If you are concerned and feel the need to do something, check out this site: http://www.docs4patientcare.org/7301.html

Obama's administration has currently taken over the automotive industry, the banking industry, the tobacco industry and is now after the healthcare industry. When will it stop?

It won't stop until we get fed up, and quit swallowing the bureaucratic rhetoric and let the powers that be know we have had enough. I know I have...what about you?

Dusk

2009-06-09T21:16:00.002-04:00

What does a man think about when a has a view like this?

His Majesty

2009-06-08T09:23:00.004-04:00

Henry Winston Woo Woo

He came to us as a 60 pound four month old and we thought he was psycho. We considered returning him to the breeder. But we stuck it out and thankfully we did. For now he is the love of my life. At about 42 inches at the shoulder and around 160 pounds, he is the biggest baby I have.

He sits in my lap and talks to me constantly. He is the epitome of a gentle giant. And no I don't ride him!

Tell me about your baby.....

Snapshot #2

2009-06-01T14:13:00.003-04:00

It is a place that is meant for the public, yet I felt I was intruding on your private moment. Your grief was palatable, consuming. It surrounded you as smog does the mountains or the tall buildings of a city over run with pollution....stagnant, and putrid. It was painful to watch yet I could not take my eyes from you.

I did not need the caretaker to tell me you were grieving. Your face said it all. But he shared your story with me. You, who lost your brother in the murderous attack on our country and specifically our Nation's Capitol, were instrumental in getting this very site constructed...the Pentagon Memorial.

It was Memorial Day and I had come to pay my respects to those who lost their lives in that attack. I had come to see the only national memorial in existence that honors that day and those who lost their lives. I got more than I bargained for.

I got a glimpse into your life...the life of a man who lives the personal horror of that day everyday. The horror of having your brother murdered by terrorists on a day he and many others were just doing their jobs.

I am haunted by your grief and I promise you, I will never forget!

Snapshots 1

2009-05-29T13:51:00.003-04:00

I walked among them this past weekend. They were tall, short, thin, fat, young, old, clean cut, scruffy. I considered myself lucky and felt very honored to be there.

Some wore hats to identify where they had been. Others had medals pinned to their chests. But they were all there for the same reason: to honor those who did not come home with them.

I stopped a few and asked if I could take their picture. I was never turned down. I had conversations with complete strangers. But felt like I had known them a lifetime. I walked away awestruck and humbled.

These men, they came from all walks of life to serve a country they love. I swelled with pride, as I too love this country and am forever grateful for what they have given me: FREEDOM

Retired USMC

Over 37 years of service

Two tours of Vietnam

Both Gulf Wars

Bosnia

Beirut when the barracks were bombed

Still teaching our soldiers today

AMERICAN HERO

Land of the Free

2009-05-27T13:40:00.001-04:00

Home of the Brave

I was there this past weekend...I can't write about it yet

Words of Wisdom

2009-05-21T20:20:00.005-04:00

He was just a teenage boy. Like many, he blended in with the rest. I think I remember taking his temperature in the health office on a day he wasn't feeling well. But nothing much more about him stands out in my mind. He was just another student among the 300 others. Then he became a man and my memory changes.

He returned to my building one day in a uniform...handsome beyond words. I had heard that he had enlisted and was serving in the Middle East. I had also heard he was a Special Forces sniper.

He came that day to see his middle school teachers, to thank them for the education they had given him and to tell them it had paid off. He made a special effort to thank his math teacher, a wonderful woman, for he finally understands why he needed to know algebra. I guess it made him a better shot!

No, this is not a story about a soldier who has lost his life. This is a story about a soldier who wants to save yours and thinks we as a nation may have made a irreparable mistake.

He now makes his living working for an 'unknown' entity as some kind of operative. His own mother has no knowledge of her son's occupation other than he rarely talks about his work. On the one occasion he did, this is what he had to say (I paraphrase):

"In my job I am forced to break bread with some really awful, horrible people. The one thing I want people to know is this: these people are glad Obama is our president. They are ecstatic. They are not afraid of Obama. They were afraid of George Bush. And that puts every one of us in danger."

I fear, my friends, we are in trouble.

A Photo Op

2009-05-19T21:24:00.001-04:00

Yes They Are!

Picture This...

2009-05-15T14:07:00.002-04:00

A beautiful sunny day...you are sitting in your car enjoying a diet in a neighborhood park on your lunch hour. A red-headed woodpecker has just caught your eye as it bobs up the side of a tree looking for its lunch. Suddenly it takes flight toward a wooded area where your eye is drawn to the ground just at the tree's edge where there appears to be another kind of nature taking place.

Your brow crinkles as you can't quite wrap your head around what you are seeing:
"Is that the naked bottom of a child?"
"Did that woman just pull a leaf off that bush and wipe that little girl's hind end with it?"
"She is not using a stick to dig a hole and bury poop...Oh no she is not!"
"Oh my god, she just wiped her hands on her pants and the little girl is going back to play on the equipment with no panties on...I am not seeing this!"

Oh, and get this...the woman never put the phone down through the whole event!

The things you see in the park on a sunny day.....

In Memory of Memory

2009-05-11T12:22:00.006-04:00

Memory...those vignettes of things past that bring us joy, or perhaps even moment of pain. Memory...the place we go when the present is momentarily too painful and the past is serene. Memory...a way to bring those who have left us back into our lives even if only for a moment. Memory...crucial to negotiating day to day tasks without thought or concern.

But what of those who have lost this precious gift? Where once there were pictures and stories to be recalled, what is there now? Do the thoughts that created the pictures, the pictures that created the words, the words that created the stories, vaporize into thin air leaving a vacuous chasm instead?

I have seen first what those who suffer from complex memory issues go through. It is disheartening and sad not only to those who are afflicted memory disorders, but also for those who love them.

My husband suffers from a condition known as Transient Global Amnesia. It is a complex and complicated condition but supposedly benign. The amnesia is temporary, but he never regains the time and events that he loses during the attack. Time... it is as precious as memories.

It gives me pause, our situation, for while my husband's medical condition as frightening as it can be, is temporary and benign. I stop and think about those who are in the midst of the clouded effects of Alzheimer's disease...a progressive, degenerative, devastating illness that robs the mind, body and soul of who we are, leaving nothing but an empty shell in its destructive path.

I believe we are all guilty...guilty of taking for granted a blessed gift...the gift of memory. Do you ever consider what life would be without it? Stop a moment and do so...for then you shall never take for granted again the things you can remember.

New Things

2009-05-05T15:16:00.003-04:00

So there is the Redbubble thing. And I am trying to figure it all out. I have created a profile and added some pictures. I have joined a group and am hoping to create some really cool stuff (cards, prints etc). I thought if I were lucky I might even sell something. But I got to figure it all out.

In the meantime, a shout out to David for introducing Redbubble to the rest of the blogging world. I hope you will check back in to see what it is I am doing and maybe, just maybe, you will see something you just can't live without!

Check out my profile and remember...it is under constuction while I am figuring it all out!

It Was But A Dream

2009-05-05T14:17:00.004-04:00

I was taken by her words to a world I only dream about...a world that for me has only existed in books and movies. But I was there, right beside her and I too felt the excitement, heard the rustle of the grass as they gently moved through it. I heard the growls, saw the leathered palms and oh, how I wanted to touch them. I felt the time disappear and the letdown when it was over. I knew I had experienced something grand and I wasn't even there.

I too have looked into their soft brown eyes and watched as they watched me. But unlike dear Tessa, guides, grass and nature did not divide me from my ancestor...

Carmi - You've Got Me Standing on the Tide Box!

2009-04-24T14:49:00.001-04:00

Bambi, he was such a darling wasn't he? Big brown eyes, creamy white spots and not a destructive bone in his body! If it were only true. If the real Bambi's of the world were those sweet darling creatures that Walt created for us on the big screen, I wouldn't be pounding on my keyboard right now.

It seems that there are some issues in my friend Carmi's area with our lovely odocoileus virginianus becoming over populated and causing some problems. It is a familiar situation.

Years back, in a local park, the deer population was out of control. Bambi and his mom were starving. The two and their cohorts had managed to decimate close to 350 species of flora and fauna below the browse line in the park.

Bambi was breeding with his sister and she was giving birth to babies with 3 legs and two heads. Bambi was playing in traffic and frequently he wasn't the only one who lost. In otherwords, bad things were happening because there were too many Bambis!

The decision was made to cull the herd. What?! Cried the people. Kill the deer for their own good. We shall do no such thing. That is not humane! (Forget they are animals not people). So started a litany of 'experiments' to reduce the deer population. Here are just a few:

Birth control injections: In a three year period the drug was administered 279 times. The deer herd grew from 190 to 347 deer. Uh....I got nothing here.

February 1993: one deer shot by sharpshooter. Media attacked the event with major errors in reporting and the public went MAD (as in crazy). Shooting was suspended.

1993-1994: 526 deer were relocated from 4 parks. Mortality rates were 19% to 79% for those deer. Dear me...not very humane.

In 1995 the decision was made to quietly reduce the population (at that time 450 head per square mile) with the help of sharp shooters. This plan was highly successful and very cost effective. The population was reduced to a much more humane 20 -40 deer per square mile. The venison was donated to a local food pantry (very humane) and the flora and fauna have been allowed to regenerate. Car/deer collisions in the area have been reduced significantly. The culling continues on a yearly basis.

I am all for the culling of Bambi and his extended family via a deer slug. It isn't that I am overly concerned for the disappearing vegetation, though I do love nature. And I don't spend alot of time worrying about Bambi's with two heads (there is always the freak show at the fair). I do hate to see an animal starve to death though, so shooting them certainly takes priority over that.
What I do feel very strongly about and sure you will understand, is this:

My daughter was driving this vehicle when a 10 point buck jumped in front of her. She never saw him coming. In her words, "he fell from the sky." The insurance company totaled this Oldsmobile Bravada.

When I saw the damage inflicted by that buck, I nearly vomited. I was brought to tears with the knowledge my beautiful child had walked away from this twisted, mangled mess.

She had never made the first payment, owning it only two weeks. You will never know how grateful I am it was this vehicle she was driving. For if she had been driving her previous owned car, a Saturn coupe, I am certain she would be dead.

So Carmi, an overpopulation of deer is a dangerous thing. All sarcasm aside, they are stunning creatures with a place in our ecosystem. But whenever something becomes unbalanced bad things happen. If mother nature cannot take care of her own, then it is up to us to help her.

Don't let what happened to my daughter happen to yours...you may not be as lucky.

Dawn

2009-04-24T09:36:00.008-04:00

click to enlarge

Brigid poses a wonderful question of us...do you ever rise early enough to see the dawn?

I find that when I am surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city the dawn passes me by. I pull the covers over my head, snuggle down with the warmth of the body next to me and hope for a few more minutes of sleep.

But when I am at the lake and the world is quiet and the land is far reaching, my eyes pop open before the light reaches the terra firma. I eagerly leave my nest, choosing a spot facing the east and wait patiently for the show to start.

It is dawn, it is different every day and it is never disappointing.

Perspective

2009-04-23T13:06:00.003-04:00

Does it change your perspective when you look at the world through the round lens of a camera and then again through something else that is round? I think it just might make things appear to be a bit softer...something we all need now and again.

Life is Like That

2009-04-21T07:49:00.003-04:00

It is inevitable, all good things must come to an end. Life is like that. But if you are lucky and the universe aligns just right, you will have something to cherish, something to fill the void that is left where flowers once bloomed or words rolled from tongues. Life is like that.

Twenty-One

2009-04-14T12:11:00.004-04:00

Twenty-one...it is the sum of the first six integers.

Twenty-one...it is the legal drinking age in the United States

Twenty-one...it is the atomic number of scandium

Twenty-one...it is the name of a card and basketball game

Twenty-one...it is the number of spots on a cubical die

Twenty-one...it is the Constitutional amendment that overturned prohibition

Twenty-one...it is the number of years you have been dead

Twenty-one...it is the weight of the soul according to Dr. Duncan MacDougall

Twenty-one...it is the number of years I have missed you and hoped yours is finally at peace

Catching Up!

2009-04-13T11:43:00.005-04:00

Sorry to have been MIA...I have been busy lately, doing things for me...reading, quilting, taking pictures.

I have finished two quilts, one each for my girls. Fabric scraps that have been sitting around for as long as twenty five years...fabric that once was fashioned into sundresses for tiny toddlers with blond curls, rosy cheeks and lips that were sweet and kissable. How long ago those days were.

These quilts are not beautiful nor are they works of art. They are what they are...cloth stitched together to form squares that were then stitched together to form a larger square...a patchwork of memories. Something to crawl under on a cold night or perhaps to wrap around a newborn someday in the future.

I handed one to each of them this past weekend and together we walked down memory lane. Reminiscing about what pattern had been cut into what form. Some of the patterns and prints have no memory for them, for they were still cradled in my arms swaddled in the weave of the fibers. So it is up to me to form the visions for them.

I felt my eyes glaze over as I told tales of pink gingham, polka dots, and florals fashioned into ruffles, dresses, costumes, bonnets and bows. Recollections of Easters, weddings, Christmas' and summer days decked out in whatever was fresh off the Singer. Memories.....

Though the quilts are similar to the other in color and style...each is also crafted with the personality of recipient in mind. One is quilted with hearts, the other with symbols of music. For there is a daughter who's heart guides her through life and the other who always has a song poised on her lips.

It was with this sentiment I gave to them these creations of woven thread...for my girls, each is as different and unique as her quilt...one is my heart and the other, my song.

A MEME

2009-03-28T22:05:00.004-04:00

Visited a new friend (go check her out) and stole a meme while I was there:

1. When you were a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? In the fourth grade I wanted to be a math teacher...then as I got older I wanted to be a nurse. I ended up getting married, having children and being a stay at home mom for years. When I finally went to work it was in the education field as an assistant in math classes...so I guess I ended up being a math teacher!

2. What have you done in the past week to help someone else? I would like to think I help people everyday. My job is one that puts me in contact with kids who are needy in more than just an education related capacity. These kids come to me for food, comfort and advice. It is why I love my job...they are my passion.

3. Who is the best-dressed person you know? Even though I have been voted best dressed teacher in the school' by a group of students, it would probably be a teacher I worked with last year. Being well dressed to me is staying trendy and stylish even as you age. I refuse to become frumpy and think all women should do the same.

4. What is on your nightstand? Depends which night stand. All have clocks and at least one book or magazine.

5. If you were a cat, what kind of a cat would you be? Any cat owned by a member of my family. We are very good to our cats.

6. If you lived in a house surrounded by acres of trees, what particular type of tree would you want flourishing on your land? No one type in particular. Lots of conifers, deciduous and flowering.

7. What do you find to be very overrated? TV

8. How many email addresses do you have? Two

9. Have you ever felt replaced? Yes...it is a terrible feeling

10. Would you rather watch football or baseball? Baseball live, football on tv

11. What is the wallpaper on your phone? The calendar

12. Name a lyric from the song you're listening to. Not listening to music right now.

13. Do you use a feed reader? A what????

14. What chocolate do you always leave in the box? Anything with a fruit flavored filling.

15. What would you do if you found out your ex is engaged? I don't have an ex.

16. Do words hurt you? Yes...words are more powerful and painful than actions. They stay with you longer.

17. Are you a talker or a listener? I can be either...but truthfully I did always have a problem with getting checkmarks in the 'talks too much' box on my report card.

18. Have you ever walked on the beach at night? I have walked the Kanapali Beach on the Island of Maui and also walked the beach of White Fish Bay along Lake Superior under a full moon. It was the most amazing thing ever!

19. Who is your favorite professional athlete? Don't really have one...not a worshiper of athletes.

20. Which TV show have you seen pretty much every episode of? House

Safe

2009-03-28T20:15:00.006-04:00

Security Bars,

Ram rod straight,

made of steel,

an obstacle to entry.

Security bars,
a hindrance to evil,

security for the afraid,

wrapped around my heart.

Protect - HSMSHS

2009-03-27T11:14:00.003-04:00

Who is protecting whom?

I Just Called to Say...

2009-03-25T21:47:00.004-04:00

The feeling overcomes me similar to the way ocean waves over take the shore, forcing my breath from my lungs like tiny grains of sand into the sea. A need so great it is staggering, encompassing, consuming.

I reach for my phone and hit the number five. Her voice, distant at first...what have I interrupted I wonder. I try to sound casual, gently easing the air back into my chest, allowing my heart to fill with the melody of her voice, "What are you doing," I ask. "Reading," she responds.

We launch into a conversation that swirls around minutia and has nothing to do with the reason I hungered for her voice.

A pause, "so what's up," she asks. "I'm having a moment," I tell her. "I want you to know how much I love you."

"Thanks. I love you too."

We hang up and all is right with the world.

The Work of Hands

2009-03-23T19:35:00.007-04:00

The work of my Mother's hands

Her hands, I so wish I had photos to remind me. Never would that have been permitted.

Her hands, how she hated them.

"Masculine," she lamented.

"Strong," I admired.

They were working hands, capable hands, confident hands, creative hands.

They were the hands that embraced me, fed me, loved me.

They were the hands that molded me into me!

An Empty Mind

2009-03-22T22:17:00.003-04:00

I have read those who claim their muse has run out on them. When writing becomes difficult, it is always the muse who is to blame. For it is the muse who steals away with our creativity and inspirations.

I have been so uninspired of late. My cerebral cavity is vacuous, devoid, without words and thoughts. Electrical impulses fall short of my finger tips, leaving the keyboard begging for that rhythmic tap tap tapping.

I search for ideas...but the words will not follow. I cannot feel them anymore, the words. They are as hollow as my mind.

Oh, muse...come back to me.

Photo Hunt - Yellow

2009-03-21T08:33:00.004-04:00

Yellow

I cannot wear it but I sure do love it!

Visit Tnchick to see what others have down with the color of the sun.

Spring

2009-03-15T21:04:00.006-04:00

The Crocus - the first true sign of Spring

Head over to Today's Flower for more lovely botanical beauties

Shadow Shot Sunday

2009-03-15T20:45:00.003-04:00

We spent the day at the zoo. This wonderful creature stood tall and grand on skinny little legs and provided me with this spectacular shadow to shoot. Visit others over at Hey Harriet to see what lurks in the shadows.

A Prickly Problem

2009-03-15T20:32:00.004-04:00

You have just knocked hundreds of straight pins on the floor...no problem! You have just the tool required to clean up the mess. The question now is: How do you get all these pins off the magnet without drawing blood?

Crap It Did It Again!

2009-03-12T18:28:00.003-04:00

Has anyone had this problem with Blogger? You have lots of lovely comments about your posts, you check the box that says, "publish" and then the comments disappear into that land of 'who the hell knows where' never to be found again.

This has happened to me on more than one occassion. So if you have left me a comment (Thank you) and don't see it...I swear I did not delete it or choose not to publish it. It is out there somewhere floating in the land of Blogger...wherever that may be.

A note to Blogger...fix this problem!

Cool Cool Water

2009-03-12T12:52:00.004-04:00

HSMSHS

Thematic Wednesday

Drink

Letter to a Narcissist

2009-03-12T10:37:00.003-04:00

Dear Vainglorious One,

This letter is to tell you......

oh hell I forgot who I was dealing with. That's right...why bother, it's all about you!

A Must Read

2009-03-09T20:50:00.003-04:00

If you are a parent, read this book. If you work with children, read this book. If you know a child who is either in middle or high school, make them read this book.

The story is fact-based fiction. It is the story of a high school shooting. It is not a story of how 'bad' guns are. In fact, it is very balanced and little is said about the use of firearms.

Yes, it is a work of fiction. Yet it is so true. The human spirit is fragile and many go through life, parents, educators, students, children, people...intentionally, unintentionally, with and without malice, innocently and not so innocently, crushing that delicate spirit.

It is the most difficult, yet most important book I have ever read. I urge you to read it NOW.

I'll take a....

2009-03-03T09:04:00.001-05:00

HSMSHS

Medicine

HSMSHS

2009-03-02T07:49:00.002-05:00

Bathe

I swear he wasn't choking him!

Helping Hands

2009-03-01T18:34:00.004-05:00

I look about the room, I am a newcomer to this group of women. They greet me with smiles and tell me their names. I thought the room would be larger and certainly neater and they would be dressed in fabrics finer...why? I don't know, what do you wear when you are doing the work of Sisters with a passion for others? And volunteers no less.

I am introduced to several of the women, names...I am so bad at them. They enter my mind and swirl around like a dust devil in the desert, leaving as quickly as they arrived. I remember only a few....Carol, Joanne, Betty.

Carol takes me under her wing and shows me around. I wonder, "are you why I am here?" I don't dare ask.

And then I see her. She is thin, wearing a black velvet hat, with a wide brim and large black bow. It covers her head, there is no hair peaking out from underneath. She wears her heavy winter coat, though the room is quite warm and goes about the business of the Sister's passion. Yes, she is why I am here.

Bolts of fabric cover the walls. Quilts in all stages of completion lie about the room. Women stand at tables cutting fabric, others are at machines assembling these rainbow-colored pieces into coverlets that will then be quilted and bound into a their final stage of completion.

The beauty is not in the finished product. Oh, yes they are magnificent. They are works of art. The beauty is in what happens to the finished product. For each finished quilt...a labor of love, crafted from start to finish strictly by the hands of someone with a passion, from materials donated, is then given to a woman who is receiving chemotherapy through the James Cancer Hospital, to use as a lap blanket during her treatments.

The organization is called the James Stitching Sisters. It was a great day....I was humbled and proud to have had the opportunity to help and be counted as one of the Sisters.

SPS

2009-02-28T22:37:00.002-05:00

HSMSHS - Self Portrait Saturday

better late than never

UM UM GOOD!

2009-02-27T16:47:00.002-05:00

Came upon a new weekly meme. Kay has decided to feature "Sin of the Week." How fun is that! This week the sin is LUST. Who wouldn't lust after a piece of this beautiful cake?

And yes. I did make it!

A Rose

2009-02-27T13:06:00.003-05:00

SONG OF THE ROSE

by: Sappho

IF Zeus chose us a King of the flowers in his mirth,
He would call to the rose, and would royally crown it;
For the rose, ho, the rose! is the grace of the earth,
Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it!
For the rose, ho, the rose! is the eye of the flowers,
Is the blush of the meadows that feel themselves fair,
Is the lightning of beauty that strikes through the bowers
On pale lovers that sit in the glow unaware.
Ho, the rose breathes of love! ho, the rose lifts the cup
To the red lips of Cypris invoked for a guest!
Ho, the rose having curled its sweet leaves for the world
Takes delight in the motion its petals keep up,
As they laugh to the wind as it laughs from the west.

Translated by Eliz. Barrett Browning

At Work and Bored

2009-02-26T15:57:00.004-05:00

This is what I do when I don't feel like doing anything......

I Am: searching for the meaning of life
I Want: more than I am permitted to have
I Have: too much on my plate
I Wish: I could have my cake and eat it too. But doesn't everyone?
I Fear: change (no I did not vote for Obama)
I Hear: nothing...for once my world is quiet
I Search: for peace and simplicity
I Wonder: will life always be a struggle?
I Regret: leaving my brother to die alone
I Love: warm summer nights, and full moons on an Ohio lake
I Always: take my medicine when I should...be glad, be very very glad!
I Usually: think about it too much
I Am Not: athletic
I Dance: like a white girl
I Sing: when I know the words to the song
I Never: eat mushrooms or tomatoes, though I eat tomato products
I Rarely: sleep more than two hours at a time...makes for a very tired girl
I Cry: lately much too often
I Am Not Always: this morose
I Need: to cheer up
I Should: be shelving books. But what the hell, this is more fun!

I stole this from Polergirl. Feel free to steal it from me.

Show Off Sunday

2009-02-22T16:49:00.005-05:00

Jelly Fish...they are simply amazing!

What are you showing off today?

Pandora's Got Nothing On Me!

2009-02-20T13:01:00.009-05:00

Boxes...I used to collect them. I had boxes of all kinds and sizes. They were cardboard mostly...corrugated and flat, large and small, rectangled and square, shipping and clothing...you name I had it. For you never knew when you were going to need a good box.

These boxes overran the attic and were probably a fire hazard. So the day came when there was a culling of the boxes. I was permitted to keep only those that were the cream of the box crop. Only those that were absolutely the best of the best were allowed to continue to stay in the attic. The rest were relegated to the curb.

Boxes...I still collect them. I have boxes of all kinds. But these boxes are very different than the cardboard boxes of the past. I don't store them in the attic of my home...I store them in a different vessel...they overrun my mind.

In these boxes I store the ghosts of the past. I keep the lids on tight, bound shut with pretty ribbons tied nice and taut and arranged into the most beautiful of bows. They are stacked nicely, these boxes...orderly and neatly all their rightful place, deep in the dark recess of my mind...never to be opened.

I don't often talk about the contents of these boxes. Ghosts are better left undisturbed, don't you agree? I mean I am going through life most of the time pretty okay. No one has had to wipe drool off my chin yet...I haven't been caught picking lint out of my belly button more than once in the last month or so. Why unleash the past if I am moving through the present with little difficulty I ask?

But there are those who disagree with me. Those who think I am not moving through the present as easily as I think I am. Those who think the contents of the boxes may have something to do with life's current events. You know the Quagmire, the Cold, the Hunger, etc.

So it has been suggested that I should gently tug on the end of the ribbons and unfurl the bows, and peel off the lids of these boxes of mine. These individuals think that I should peek inside the boxes and let the ghosts out....face them head on. Then maybe I could free up some space in my mind and my belly button.

But I am not brave enough to do this alone. Ghosts of the past are very scary.

So...I now have a bobble-head. You know, someone you pay to nod their head while you sit there and talk about your boxes and the ghosts of the past. This one isn't so much of a nodder as a 'oh my father was just like that'. I want to say, "this isn't about the box your father is in, it is about the box my father in!" But I don't...I just smile and nod and think about how much it is costing me.

Hey wait...maybe I am the bobble-head and she should be paying me!

Boxes...I think they are better left with the lids on.

Creature Feature

2009-02-18T09:33:00.002-05:00

There is nothing quite as soothing for the soul as a trip to the aquarium. I could sit all day and watch the life in the sea. This is just a smattering of what I got to see at the Newport, Ky. Aquarium. I was so intrigued with these amazing creatures, I talked the hubby into setting up a tank of our own.

Stay tuned for pictures of my venture into the aquatic life at a later date. It is quite complicated to get started!

Mid-Winter Status

2009-02-16T14:44:00.004-05:00

So how does life find you at the mid point of winter? What is it you are hoping for this year? What is it you are seeking most, Shutter Sisters asks us? Give them a peek into something you most desire.

Here is an impromptu photo I made showing you what it is I desire most this year and hopefully for a long time coming. And no Miss America, I am not talking about world peace, albeit that would be nice. I am talking about the kind that will settle upon me like a warm soft blanket on a cold winter's night. Now it is your turn.

Quagmire

2009-02-12T08:20:00.002-05:00

Caught in the quagmire,

Stuck against the rocks while the tide moves around me.

Debris, it clutters my life and my mind.

"What to do with this debris." I ask myself.

What to do with these thoughts and things?

They weigh me down, preventing me from moving downstream.

Caught in the quagmire,

Stuck against the rocks while the tide moves around me.

The Hunger Moon

2009-02-11T19:47:00.007-05:00

The February full moon

It is known as the Hunger Moon or the Snow Moon. The native tribes named it such due to the amount of snowfall that usually falls in February and the difficulty that causes in hunting for food.

No snow was falling the night I took this photo. But pangs of hunger were gnawing deep within me. Funny thing was, I had eaten that day. I need something other than food to quell the pain

within me...nourishment comes in many forms. What nourishes you?

One Man's Trash....

2009-02-08T08:49:00.005-05:00

We all know what you do with when life hands you lemons...Brigid certainly has some creative methods. But what do you do when life gives you these?

Well, you can throw them in the trash or you can add some butter, sugar, eggs and various other ingredients...put it all in a Bundt pan and about an hour later end up with this. Oh, and the stuff in the middle is a homemade carmel sauce to top it all off.

Don't we wish we could turn all of our outdated, overripe, used up situations into something so tantalizing?

Show Off Sunday - Frozen Tears

2009-02-08T08:26:00.009-05:00

HSMSHS gives us the opportunity to show off a photo we are particularly fond of. I took this photo on a very cold day in a local park. Do you have a photo you would like to show off?

I Dare You!

2009-02-07T11:09:00.002-05:00

I don't have a My Space or a Face Book but I do have this blog. I don't identify myself by my real name or my city, just my state. I am careful about to whom I give this site. I try to protect those I write about by not identifying them by name.

With that being said, I am sure there are those who read this that have figured out who I am. Of course there are those who know who I am. I also am out there as someone who works in education and one who is a second amendment supporter and a lover of things that go BANG!

This is for those of you who think you might dare to challenge my right to own guns and work in my field of passion...I FUCKING dare you. IT IS MY RIGHT and I will own you!

I hope the teacher in this story has the same attitude and sues the pants off the district that has done this to her as well as the "concerned colleague" that brought it to their attention.

Don't mess with my passion or my guns...they are one and the same!

A Blurry Vision

2009-02-06T10:12:00.002-05:00

We are fading away before my eyes.

Memories clouded by pain and tears,

Neither able to reach through the obscurity

That rules our life.

When the fog lifts, will there still be an us?

It Is Mine

2009-02-04T08:53:00.005-05:00

I sat staring out the car window watching Mother Nature wield her paint brush across the sky at sunset last night. Beautiful strokes of crimson, goldenrod, and apricot surrounded by shades of blues.

Sunsets...endings I think, beautiful endings to days that often hold truths I don't want to face, yet am forced to.

I wondered if I, like Mother Nature, am capable of painting a new sky? And will it change daily as hers does? What will it look like? What colors will I paint on the canvas that is my future? What pigments will spring forth from my soul?

Will my brush stroke the rough surface with colors bright and hues happy? Or will I seek shades of darkness, painting the heavens desolate and bleak? Will the clouds toil among themselves in playful patterns of ghostly apparitions? Or will there be dark tones of black and grey as if evil is about to burst from the earth's atmosphere?

I am in control of my canvas...I have come to realize that. The shock is gone. The panic has subsided. Decisions have to be made. I have the brush in my hand and the canvas is blank...it is up to me to decide how the finished product will look.

May I Introduce...

2009-02-03T14:13:00.003-05:00

Mr and Mrs JJW

I hope they continue to look into each other's eyes with this love and adoration forever

Sky Watch Friday

2009-01-29T21:21:00.003-05:00

A picture taken when life was simple and the pain was in his back not his heart. In the morning we will be boarding a plane to Vegas to see our son marry...a time when we should be light of heart and the tears should be falling from happiness. We will need all the strength we have to make it through this weekend for our son.

Cold

2009-01-28T19:28:00.002-05:00

The bitter cold assaults my soul

Takes my breath away.

Sheets of ice blanket my life

Please uncover me.

Does Anyone Have an Answer?

2009-01-26T10:33:00.004-05:00

I stood watching the seconds of the timer tick away and wondered if my heart was going to stop when it hit zero. How can you be in such pain and your heart still beat?

Lucy is Going on Hiatus

2009-01-25T14:46:00.002-05:00

We often are our own worst enemies. I know that is true of myself...but this time the collateral damage is extensive. I am in a fight for my life. My health is fine, but everything I know and love is in danger and I am responsible for it.

With that being said, I am going to give it my all to do what I can to repair the damage. At this time it looks unlikely, but if that God you all talk about exits...I beg you to pray for my family and those I have hurt...they will need it.

In the meantime, postings will be sparse. But I have made such good friends here I hate to let you all go...so I will check on you occasionally or post a picture here and there.

Again, if your God be willing, this won't be the end.

Let Me Introduce...Little Lucy!

2009-01-23T21:02:00.004-05:00

Thirty some years ago the hubby came to own this work of art through the fine art of bartering. He had a bag of...well it was the 70's and someone had her. A trade was made. Then he found himself desiring a bag of...well it was the 70's. His brother in law had what he wanted and thought this work of art would make a good trade. He then became her owner.

She has now found her way back to us...and NO! there were no bags of anything involved...it is not the 70's.

She's petite. She's skinny.

She's cute. She's sexy.

She's understated. She's powerful.

And she is MINE!

I just have to convince him...anyone know where I can find a bag of.....

Sky Watch Friday

2009-01-22T22:27:00.002-05:00

Click to enlarge

color of picture was changed using Picasa

While walking on a very cold January day, I heard them long before I saw them...

Can you count them all?