Tired of chores

Today I am tired.
Combination of to much sleep(9hours).
To much stuff to do.
Sometimes just thinking about the “stuff” makes me sluggish and worn.
Chores to get done.
Shopping – Special dog food for the allergic one, bedding for the rodent, dog food for the normal dogs, pellet bedding for the horse, special food for the husband, normal healthy food for the rest.
Chores – Clean horse pen, restock hay, find birth certificate, fold laundry, oil change.
Really. When typed out its not all that much, just seems like it.

What I would like to do is walk. Walk for hours, feel my muscles burn, snap pictures, sit in the sun, just lean on someone for an hour and absorb the peace. It sucks that logistics just won’t let me. Not enough time before the kids get home…and I have to pester them to finish their chores.

Peace.

Texture-Touch-Feeling

Isn’t it funny how without realizing it texture or touch or feelings make up such a large part of our lives?

Not sure if these go together for everyone.  They do for me however.

Wandering a farmers market…
Shine of an apple
Warmth of hand knit scarf or hat
The curve of a petal or leaf
Glint of jewelry, picking it up, letting it drift thru your fingertips

Touch of a child…
The smell of their hair when little
Stubble rough when cut
Toes wiggling in grass
Height of them as you have to look up

Friends…
Tight hugs of comfort
Smell of them uniquely their own
Brush of hands to stop tears, yours or theirs
Voice curious, sad, inquiring

Lovers…
Gentle caresses, fleeting
Smiles quick and bright
Eagerness to share a story
Memories of past and present

What touch, texture or feeling makes you FEEL? Makes you smile inside? Answer if you like.

Belief

Bit of a ramble today.
Miss my twin to chip in…so you all get it instead. So…ramble back if ya like.

Belief. I am not talking about the belief in god. That is your choice and journey
I am throwing thoughts in my mind of the energy we put into things.  Because we so want or strongly believe in an outcome.
~Working out or physical exercise.  Proven to help…but many times we believe more than what will actually happen unless effort balances thought.
~Believing in the good of people. Perhaps our inner radar? How we absorb emotions. Or even emote ourselves.
~Why do we accept less for ourselves? Is it less truly? Or is it like getting a different perspective thru a camera lense shooting different heights or distances.

Sometimes. No matter how hard we believe, things will turn. We encounter different aspects that change the outcome. Growing up. Growing old. Learning different things, new perspectives. Knowing that for that one minute or day, we understand.

Again. Just a ramble. Not truly attached to any particular word or thought.

Peace to your journey.

Woodman of the world

Grave yard tour
Passing thru the older portion I came across these lovely wood inspired tombstones.
The words read:
Woodman of the world
This company was and is a financial institution. I could give you all the details…but hey…everyone needs something to google!
Wikipedia has a very good page on it.

The tombstones were a benefit for members prior to 1930, until the cost became to prohibitive.

The moss grows slowly
This tree will never change
The curves and grooves
Staying the same
For generations now and after me
Eyes play down the length
Marveling at the beauty
Will it be covered in 10 years?
Top to bottom?
A curious sight to the next set of wondering eyes?

Observation

I wish I was a true writer. (Shrug) I do have a talent for observation however.

So this is a passage out of a book I am reading. It strikes my fancy for many reasons.

And yes…it was from a Zombie book. Application to life? Picking yourself up from ruin?

 

“Why is life like this?” I asked. “Why?” I balled my fists into my eyes, then turned and looked at the rafters of the barn. “We fight and fight, and sometimes we meet someone we care about…and then…”

“And that’s the reason we fight. We fight because we have to have those moments. Those people we care about. Otherwise, its all shit.” Celia waved her hand at the barn, the world.

The Oasis of Filth-Part 2-The Hopeless Pastures

Author ~Keith Soares

Mirror Twin

I think this may be my way to share my story with you, my sweetest twin. My mirror self.

Do you know that of all my friends and family you were the only one that held out hope for me and my marriage? That was with the knowledge that you would lose me. *shaking my head in wonder*  Maybe they knew more. Maybe they can see things that you can. THAT I do not know.

You let me ramble, you let me cry, and you let me care without judgment. For the sole reason that it made you and I smile and be happy. Perhaps selfishly more…but with an honorable intent.

Small story: I told him today of my idea of sharing 10 minutes of a topic or idea. Something unrelated to kids, work, traffic or the weather. He was a bit befuddled.

I told him laughing as I told you, “You don’t need to rush out a find a topic”. I said, “You can talk about military if you want, as long as it is not a story I have heard.”

He said: “All I like is pictures of naked ladies.”

I responded: Okay (in a very long drawn out way) “That would be fine, but there has to be a reason”.

He said: “I like the pictures.”

I responded: (laughing again) “Well sometimes you have to read the articles to.  What do you like? Hair? Body?”

He said: “I will think about it and find something.”

That, right there is the reason I love that man. Perhaps it is simple. Truly though, I would be happy with simple, with moments of magic. That as a giver I could be happy with.

Only one day.

Tomorrow I will share more.

Spinning

My mind is over full
Spinning wildly
So many things unsaid
Wanting
Needing
Strength

It is a long crawl over ground
Covered with sharp rocks and glass
Not enough to bleed out
Enough to leave little bits behind
Bits of flesh
Flesh torn
Torn inside where no one sees

I dread the night

Bookstores and Wishes

The title may be a bit misleading. I am pretty sure it will make sense in the end.
I have always loved bookstores. New or used.
I have been in used bookstores with narrow cramped aisles, catwalks overhead to hold the shelves upright and weird leveling of stairs due to different rooms. Book stores that were homes before, stores with seven toed cats and stores that used industrial space.
One of the most memorable stores had the most beautiful second story half loft the circled the perimeter of the main floor. Metal spiral staircase on opposite ends, metal railing. The loft itself was narrow…enough to support the upper level books and a 3 foot walkway.
Ahhhh…and the ladder. I believe that library’s or bookstores deserve ladders. The wood kind, rolling wheels and track. The history that may have been seen or the games played…can only be imagined.
New bookstores are a delight for a different reason. New spines, new pages, book “stuff” of various sorts, pens, cards and if you are lucky…coffee and squishy chairs. Many things to peek at. Touch. Newness vs. Old. Different and unique.
Now to my wish. This is mine.
Maybe you can relate?
Maybe you hold deep inside a wish that you know…
I want to bring a love with me to a bookstore. Maybe they don’t read. Maybe bookstores are not their cup of tea. What I would like is simple.
Come with me.
Cast aside your silent impatience. Your disapproval. The negative vibe. The urge to be off to better things somewhere else.
Sit in a comfortable chair
Grab a newspaper
A magazine
A coffee
Become comfortable
Watch me
Watch me feel the spines of the books, both hard and soft.
Pulling out and looking at each new treasure by old and new authors.
Looking at the cards all shimmery and beautiful.
The games
The comics
See me nestle down on the floor. Just for a minute to see if a book had been read before.
Hair drifting, partially covering my face.
Lips move soundless.
I look up
See you watching me.
You smile.
I smile in return.
I mouth, “are you ok?”
You answer with a hand wave, a shooing motion for me to continue the pleasure of my touching, absorbing of my bookstore.
I know that you are enjoying yourself, by seeing my pleasure and enjoyment.
I squeeze my eyes tight. Hoping the pure joy I feel in that moment would stay.
Eyes open
No one is there, chair empty
A tear slides
Quick hand brush
Drop of my head
Small sigh of sadness
Opens book
Escape

I can’t tell you or anyone else how much the little things feel. Bad and good.
Body language, unsaid words.
I have had one side of this wish. You can figure out which.
After awhile you just stop trying.
You stop trying to convince someone the love of your journey.
You give up.

Bittersweet ending?
Think of an alternate.
Eyes open
He is still there
Watching me with his beautiful eyes
I stop what I am doing
Walk over
Drop between his legs
Head on thigh
Huge sigh of pleasure of him, of him enjoying mine.
Yes. Public bookstore.
Do I need to impress anyone?
There ya go.
~peace

Thank you

So many things swirling in my head.
Trying to push things down to a level of non panic and actual succeeding recently oddly enough…

This blog I want to say thank you.
Those words are so small but have so much meaning when put in context. In no particular order or relevance.
I am thankful for…

Silence. The quiet, peaceful kind that is not awkward and empty.

Being busy. Having a goal to reach…work. chores. Walks.

Sleep. Ones without dreams. Without tears. Without gut churning pain.

My children. Although I wish they were not smarter than me and please dear lord shut up, or at least pause.

Love. Was not sure if this works here in the thanking list. However even if bad it has its moments. It can keep you safe. Make you feel like you are wrapped in someone’s arms and nothing will touch you. It also makes you feel anything is possible.

People. New friends. Old friends. A beautiful smile from a stranger or small child. The interaction. A smile blooming big from words read or a voice heard.

Photographs. The challenge. The catch. Enjoying the moment that you wanted to capture. Then looking back. Seeing that moment again. Seeing another in the review that is so much better than expected.

History. Lessons. Paths. Journeys. Adventure. Pleasure. Pain. Safety. Words.

Ah. So much more. So much unsaid. That. THAT for another day.

And thank YOU for reading.

I don’t belong in a cage…

I promised myself I would make a happy post next. Hate it when I lie.
Really. The truth is no one can see me here. I am as small as a spec of sand in the palm of your hand.
*throws up hands* enough!
Why am I me?
or perhaps…
This why I am me.
Someone I find very special was hurt last night. The intent was never to hurt. It was to listen, be curious, be joyful, explore and be happy with the little bits.
I think he wants it to fit in predetermined box. A box that I haven’t finished folding. A life that I will have to create new. That I need to know I can do this on my own. That if I cant. Then I am just a stupid wretched person.
I don’t ever want to be put in a box unless I have complete and utter trust in someone that they will care for me upon their honor. That I won’t have to care for me and them.

Because.
I
Am
In
a
box
Now
of my own making.

And that folks is enough for now.
Double promise the next will be happy.
Peace to your journey. Hoping mine intrigues you.