Lucia – Light

I love photography.

I couldn’t do it for money, because it starts to be tedious and really it brings me more joy than money would.

(Secretly I like to buy toys to use with my camera. Lol. Filters, soft boxes and straps to name a few)

Prompt wise…I know no one named Lucia, don’t really want to write a story about a fake unknown person (no motivation for that this mornin).

BUT. According to our dear wikipedia “It comes from the Latin word Lux meaning ‘light’.” So that will be the direction.

Or maybe I show you my direction…with light…

Kilcurn castle Scotland: At the end of the day at dusk, may the light be as sweet as the memories.

Winthrop Winter Ballon Festival: May your adventures be blessed with surprises in the light.

As each sunrise feels like a blessing to have captured (even in auto mode on the freeway)

As always, thanks for reading. Smile if you can, hug if you do that and find something to joy over today.

Maybe some…light.


Big word pondering…


Wow this is a big word, with responsability tucked into it.

What does this look like? Funny that. I always want to ask what others think. But really it comes down to me. Again, what does it look like?

Currently. In no particular order.

-Traveling. Just wrapping up a serious adventure in Scotland. Visiting friends, traveling in country, photographs to name a few things.

-Hiking. Trying to outdoor more. Even in potentially crappy weather. The challenge is there.

-Photographs. Being a little less of a lazy photographer. Because wow.

-Taking care of the husband and one kid left at home. Caring and doing for others is a thing for me. I enjoy it. I also enjoy being away to solitude for some reason.

-Writing. Well. Some people have frustrations. I try to work out at the gym or something that guides my antsy behavior. Currently that has been erotica that I can see in my head. I haven’t been brave enough to post them yet.

-Lifestyle change. I need a broader support foundation in my life. With the kids leaving home, 20 years of marriage and the husbands empty nest…I need more. So I have told him such. I would like to explore a poly lifestyle. Man or woman. As expected he reacted well to the idea of a lady but not to a gentleman. This is still a work in progress and really that’s ok. Because I want some I can fit well with and share some life with vs a roll in the hay. This may take time.

So yeah. Fulfillment can be…well interesting.

(Donuts. Because even if I can’t eat the little jerks … damn)

So many thoughts…

Pause. Take a breath

I have so many ideas and goals. I want them to be done now. Completed now. My head swims.

Its been awhile since I wrote. Usually I talk my words to friends or even in my head. Some of this may be repetition if you are a go back and read past posts. The latest bit then:

Seeing a therapist. Probably the biggest reason to start was to much on my plate. Kid leaving, new job and 20 year husband with empty nest. I know there was more at the time of my decision of needing a therapist.

So searching for one. Psychology . com, search topic, sex therapist. What?! Sex therapist. Well. It just seemed to make sense. Alot of actions and thoughts come from a persons approach to sex. That is not her only focus as a therapist, just one of them.

No insurance coverage. No big deal. Every couple weeks fees won’t make or break me. So what the heck do we talk about? Mostly me talking and her listening. Me talking my thoughts outloud, asking for tools,directions or observations from her experience.

One of the most interesting questions she posed was, what does a perfect relationship look like to you. Whoa. What the hell. What do you mean? If you could have anything what do you want-need?

Whoa. Pause.

Dream on…

You standing in uniform, blue, no identifing marks, with a puppy cuddled in your arms. Standing by the exit door of a store, like you were guarding the door.

Puppy a Shepard mix I think.

Not sure who I was with. Husband maybe.

You came over to talk, blocking the door, people couldn’t get in or out. I moved you over, you were a little disgruntled at that.

Talking. Can’t remember what.

At your house.

Like Christmas.

Telling me a story

This is why I got a divorce I say. If you had done that to me I would have divorced you too.

You disappeared.

You sleeping in bed. No body parts peeking out. Sound asleep.

Cristmass tree partially taken down. Tree was huge, like a monkey tree. Parts were wrapped and put away, but half was still up.


Note: sometimes things don’t make sense, others may make sense further down the road.

The Red Shoes

I was thinking about a story from when I was younger. Maybe 8 or 10. My mom always wore high heeled (3in by the way)shoes, stretch pants and big hair, the works. Well dress up was a thing even when I was a kid, and mom had ALOT of shoes. So my sister and I would put on her shoes and clomp around the house.
There were a favorite pair of strappy red sandel high heels she had discarded that were my favorite. I thought I looked so amazing in these that I figured I would go for a bike ride with them on…so I did.
Biking along. Thinking I am so amazing. NOT paying attention to what I am doing. Bam. Hit a stop sign. Bike wrecked. On the ground (in those amazing shoes). A car stops.
“Hey kid, you ok?”
“Yes yes I will be fine”…completely embarrassed at this point
I decided to take the shoes off and bike home the 3-4 blocks in my bare feet. Safer you know. AND I have never owned a pair of red shoes or 3 inch heels since!
To this day, I could tell you where the exact stop sign was that I hit.

This is what I see

I self analyze, myself most of all. It doesn’t prevent mistakes, it does slow them down.

I have a friend.

We have known each other for almost 30 years. I knew him when things were new and fresh in life.

He is an introvert. Which makes conversation with him a challenge. Until I asked directly if I could ask nosy/curious questions. He said yes.

This is what I realized. He has PTSD. Makes his introversion worse I suspect. He is fairly self absorbed, he is not aware of others as people and how they are. He has a hero complex, the save the world complex. Being a firefighter and a cop that fits well. Saving instead of understanding. He has had many relationships. Most don’t understand him, or he doesn’t communicate well after the saving.

He is in therapy.

He uses sex as a coping method, or a drug as it were. To dull the pain. I support the sex angle, but it must be supporting to it. Snuggles and laughter make it better.

He is no longer that shiny kid I left. His wounds are left open. He can save the world, but who will save him?

Just makes me sad.

Going back in time: Childbirth

To know someone is to know their history, the stories that are part of them. I think I may keep with this theme for awhile…or not. Only time will tell.

Childbirth. Thought this was appropriate due to my oldest birth child graduating today. Designation, birth child because I have three step children which is another story.

Christmas day 18 years ago my daughter was born. That kid. Not ready till she was ready. Went to a midwife and her office to have both of my kids. Never went near a hospital except for the official ultrasound.

Let me back up to before the birth. My aunt provided birth kits to several midwives in the area and suggested a midwife once she heard I was pregnant. Hmmm. Ok. I did not want to have a little one in my home, for me that was to much and my house was messy (weird the thought process that you go thru). One of my aunts clients had/has a office by a beautiful lake, Lakeside Birth Center. The checkups and birth can happen there. One stop shopping. Then to tell my husband. His answer was “no way”, you will bleed out. Erm. Ok…as with many things marriage…I put my head down and pushed forward. So “we” planned to have this baby by the lake.

So back to the day of the birth. The kid was two weeks late from her due date, so I had to pick a day, since she wasn’t coming on her own. Christmas Eve was the chosen date. Set up the stockings in our bedroom before leaving the house. Left the oldest step daughter in charge of the youngers and off my husband and I went to have this baby.

Arrived. About 600pm. The midwife broke my water. Then labor began. So THAT is what it feels like? Completely and horribly sucked. Whos fucking idea waa this? Lol. Variety of pushing, walking, grunting and probably cursing. Took a couple of Tylenol for the pain (wtf?). At 12:12am on 12/24 my daughter was born at 8lbs 7oz. Oh, she was and is a beauty…couple hours later we were on the road back home. Arriving at home about 400am Christmas day. The timeline gets a bit fuzzy…but I think we woke all the step kids up to show them their new little sister and to check out the stockings and presents.

My birth son. His birth was very similar. Same location and midwife. Decide to not wait till he was past due unlike my daughter. The day he was due we made the appointment to have him. Went and had lunch, never have fish and chips before giving birth. Showed up. Broke the water. Labor started at 8pm. Lost the fish and chips about 930 at a guess. My son was born at 12:08am at 7lbs 8oz after 4 hours of labor. No tylenol this time (I am a beast).

He was born, covered with goop. Looking a little like a garden gnome. His ears were not quite in the right spot, due to the tight squeeze. He also had his dads hairline, or not much of it, but oh so cute. The step daughter watched her little sister while the birth happened and the step sons were required to live with their mother in Italy at that time, they didn’t see him till much later.

So that is a piece of me.

Tell me a story.