Sometimes.....

Sometimes it's the secrets we keep inside that break us down. Sometimes it's lies we tell our poor fragile hearts that end up unravelling us, in the end.

Otis Sings the Blues

It's the kind of day where the clouds are dragging their underbellies, bloated and gorged with so much rain.  Waiting for you to walk outside and literally, rain on your parade. It's the kind of day where moping around in the pajama bottoms of a past lover and listening to Otis Redding seems like a normal moment. No matter how much effort you put into trying to force a positive outlook on each day, it just doesn't seem to make a difference in the way the world treats you. Or responds to you, because the world really knows that your heart is just as heavy with grief as those grey clouds above you. Will it get better one day? Everyone is quick to assure you that this will pass, that something better is looming around the bend, that surely you will get through this heartache in the blink of an eye! And while their chipper and upbeat words bounce lightly off the heavy armor of sadness that shields you, you still search for that little ember of hope you are certain must still be within you. Except that right now, it's been snuffed out. It's been extinguished by the anger and selfishness of the one who ripped your soul to nothingness. You wonder if it will ever be lit again - you wonder if your life will ever be your own again. Because right now, control does not belong to you. Everyone else has some hold of the reigns of your life and you are powerless to do anything but slump back and watch.

Of course, no one really wants to deal with you and your heartache any longer. Three weeks is more than ample time to pick up the shards of your shattered dreams and get back to it. You're supposed to posture that you are content and happy and cool with the crazy that is still your daily life. As if this upheaval is just a little blip, that it's just as easy to dismiss as a common cold. You wish that it were just so simple, and that with a little confidence you could just stroll through your days like some happy go lucky child, carefree and delighted. Why can't someone just tell you how to do that, and you will follow protocol. You realize the only safe haven you have for your feelings is right here, where anyone reading can flick through to the other posts of happier times in your life. Then you realize that surely no one really bothers with reading this anyway, and feel a moment of calm that you can vent freely and no lectures or advice or well meaning words will flood your way. Perhaps there is something to this little piece of anonymity....

I Need a Friend

I don't get it. By it, I mean why things are still so shitty. Everyone keeps telling me that things are going to get better, it will get easier - yet each day I feel as though things are backsliding and only getting worse. Perhaps the fact that I am sick, that I have been pushed beyond any level of stress I ever believed possible, that I have no home - or that I feel as though people are annoyed with me and I am more alone than I ever thought I could feel - perhaps that is part of the reason I am swimming in a sea of self doubt. I try to focus on something positive each day, but it feels as though life is just going to continue bringing on the hits. I wonder when I can wake up and feel moderately good again. I believed by now I would be progressing, not regressing. And the part that breaks my heart is that he is. I feel that he left me long before we split. I keep trying to figure out why this happened - but I realize that repeating an action and coming to the same result is loosely defined as 'insanity'. The only insanity I wish to be involved with is the kind that whips my body into some amazing vessel to look upon. On that note, I'm seriously contemplating doing some overhaul to my look. Giving myself a mild make over, so that when I am ready to get back out there, I feel stunning. When you feel it,  you exude it. I know what I am looking for, but my question is - can I find it? I don't want to repeat the same dating mistakes again - I am ready for a big commitment (in time, before you might think to jump the gun and lecture me - no need for that), I am ready to settle into a happy routine with a man who adores me as I do him. I want that home life, that delightful routine of man and wife. I've been searching for it all this time - I have to have faith that I can still find it. He has to be out there, somewhere.

Until then, I can cling to the hope that I can find a place to lay my head each night, a place to call a temporary home. With some sweet loving furry faces who make me feel like the million dollar lady I should feel like. If I've learned anything in my time here, it is that animals can love you in a way that no other being can - they love you for the good, the bad and ugly - they love you when you are crazy and when you are blue. I look forward to having that love returned to my life as soon as I possibly can. I may have lost everything, or so it feels; but I have a chance to start again. I tell myself that right now, and cling to the hope that soon it becomes my reality. I need a friend of the furry kind, to lick away my tears and put a smile on my face. I miss my animals more than I ever thought possible - without them I have a hard time coping. Surely this will change soon....

A Little Bit of Crazy

I've come to realize that in times of high stress in my life, I become manic. Super manic, actually. People probably are concerned for my mental state of mind - and so I thought it might be best to purge my 'crazy' here, as opposed to terrifying others. I suppose it's a way of feeling like I have some sort of control, when all seems to be a huge blur of chaos. I'm a very organized neat freak, and when my world is like a messy bedroom, I tend to freak out. And when I freak out, I ramble on incessantly about everything that is swirling through my brain. I am lucky that those who know me well know that these episodes of heightened insanity pass - but those who aren't as fortunate to know this probably wish at times they hadn't met me. Ha! So that leads me to here, this place, to let it all out. If you can't handle crazy, skip this post.

I've got lists and plans and ideas and they just want to pour out of my mouth every second. I don't sleep for more than a few hours, eating is something that happens occasionally. I'm on the fast track to self destruction - but it soon shall pass as well. I've got a good solid plan for the next few months and will soon be moving into my own place, and that will really tame down my feelings of crawling out of my skin. I'm focusing in BREATHING and staying CALM. I've never really been good at it - but it's time to learn. I have a lot to take away from this recent split, things about myself that need some maintenance, a self tune up, if you will. Probably another reason I seem to be acting cuckoo of late. I have little patience, I want it ALL and I want it NOW. Calm, breathing. Focusing, but keeping still. I think another reason I want to get it all done now is so I don't have to focus on the huge void in my life - my whole existence just changed in the blink of an eye and I want to deny it all and find something new so I don't have to cry anymore. So I don't have to miss everything that means so much to me - so I can pick up the pieces and try to glue them all back together. I just don't want to face that reality, I'd rather just fast forward through it all. Life doesn't work that way, though. I'm trying to do too much all at once.

I know I am going to make it through this. I'm so extremely lucky and grateful to have so many wonderful people supporting me, encouraging me and helping me - I think I would have collapsed by now otherwise. So bear with me just a bit longer as I continue the grieving process, and I as I slowly settle back into myself. I'm still the same charming foxy blonde chic you know and love, just a little off the tracks right now. I'm coming back, and I'm going to be as good as I can be. Possibly better. Now I have to go and expend more of this crazy energy that's driving me on.....

Stages

Grief.
Heartache.
Disbelief.
Shock.
Sadness.
Loss.
Freedom.
Relief.
Pain.
Confusion.
Anger.
Vengenance.
Exhaustion.
Lost.
Sick.
Sleeplessness.
Spiteful.
Upheaval.
Disregard.
Release.
Hope.
Moving.
Future.
Solo.
New.
Fresh.
Possiblities.
Scared.
Nervous.
Ready?

A Sea of Chaos

I find myself wandering in a strange land, where nothing seems to make sense. And then I realize that this is now my daily routine. Living out of cardboard boxes and seeing multi-colored walls daily is an oddity, but it is slowly becoming the norm. I'm trying to make sense of this chaos, trying to formulate a plan to help me achieve homoestasis. I need that.

While floundering from my new status, I am also swimming in a sea of self doubt trying to regain some control over my future. Options! There are many, but which path will lead to a comfortable and satisfying new way of life. Which to choose? Again, I am uncertain. I hope beyond hope that something will come along, soon, to get the process moving in the direction it should....because it will be getting cold soon. I need a warm home to call my own, with all the familiarities that go along with that feeling.I need a solid plan for the future. I need a family again.

One

Single digit. Single serving. Flying solo. No matter how you say it, it simply comes down to this: I am now alone. I didn't really think it would come to this, but it has. Things are messy right now, and I'm exhausted. I don't know how I am going to survive this, but my friends and family assure me I will. I am strong and resilient - I have to keep reminding myself this. I have to pack up my entire life from the new home I had just started to become acquainted with. My life has become topsy turvy. My furry kids don't understand why mommy doesn't live with them any longer.

Yet somehow, there is still a spark within me encouraging me to move forward, and to pursue other avenues. I am not giving up hope - somewhere out there happiness can be found. It just might take a while. Until then I am a single serving with shared animal custody.

The Bench - Revisions

It's the end of summer, the humidity making its last attempts to cling to young skin. And it does, but it isn't the only cause for the slight sheen on my tender, barely teen aged face. It is something more, fascinatingly simple and complex all at once. My first true kiss. By this I mean my first heart racing, face flushing, knee jellying foray into adulthood kiss. The kind that takes your breath as it happens, and again  as you recall it sitting in the stuffy confines of your high school classroom days later. And for weeks and months after that. Oddly, recalling it now can still cause a slight flush to rise to my cheeks.

There is a bench that sits on a sidewalk. To look at it, you would see only wood and metal crafted into a structure conducive to sitting. I, however, see the possibility of love blooming on the cheeks of a younger version of myself. I see the hormonal and love crazed boy that made me giddy and wild with teenage longings. I see his bleached out denim jacket, the mole on his right cheek and the blue eyes that would burn a hole into my secret heart. Is it extraordinary, to see all of that from looking at a common bench? Those pieces of lumber have trapped a part of me within them - long ago tucked away.  I see these vivid images and I immediately feel the perspiration on my skin, smell the wanting of this boy, taste the sweet sugary cotton candy as our tongues meet. It is a pocket of time that, until I saw that bench again, even I had forgotten.

The end of summer brings the annual county fair. It is a place of wonder, and the escapes of parental confines. The air still speaks of summer, but encourages thoughts of autumn. And the smells of funnel cakes, sausage sandwiches, lemon shakes, and buttery popcorn hang heavy in the air. There is a desperate sense of first love floating in the branches of the trees and woven through the spokes of the big Ferris wheel, churning the couples in a dizzying whir of lights. Somewhere, near the voices of the hawkers of 80's hair bands locker sized mirrors, the screams of delighted children and the root-a-toot toot of the calliopes, the thrum of the crowd and the roar of the pulling tractors; two young people will seal their fates by sitting on a bench and making their own history.

The Bench

It's the end of summer, the humidity making its last attempts to cling to young skin. And it does, but it isn't the only cause for the slight sheen on my tender, barely teenaged face. It is something more, something simple and complex all in one. My first real kiss. By this I mean my first heart racing, face flushing, knee jellying foray into adulthood kiss. The kind that takes your breath as it happens, and again and again as you recall it sitting in the stuffy confines of your high school classroom days later. And weeks later. Oddly enough, recalling it years later can still cause a slight flush to rise to my cheeks.

There is a bench that sits on a sidewalk. To look at it, you would see only wood and metal in the shape of a structure conducive to sitting. I, however, see the possibility of love blooming on the cheeks of a younger version of myself. I see the hormonal and love crazed boy that made me giddy and wild with teenage longings. I see his bleached out denim jacket and the blue eyes that would burn a hole into my soul. Isn't it funny, to see all of that from looking at a bench? Those pieces of wood trapped a part of me within them - a part of me that time has forgotten.  I see these vivid images as if they are real. I feel the perspiration on my skin, smell the wanting of this boy, taste the sweet cotton candy as our tongues meet. It's a pocket of memory, that until I saw that bench again, even I had forgotten.

The end of summer, the annual county fair. It is a place of wonder, and the escapes of parental confines. The air still hints of summer, but it encourages fall. And the smells of cotton candy, and lemon shakes, and popcorn waft lazily through the air. And there is also the thick sense of love caught in the tree branches and in the spokes of the big Ferris wheel, churning around couples in a whir of lights. Somewhere, near all of these smells, and  voices of the hawkers of 80's hair bands locker sized mirrors, the screams of delighted children and the root-a-toot toot of the calliopes; two young people will seal their fates by sitting on a bench and making their own history.

Nuggets

Sometimes I have delightfully inspirational little quips, sentences or sometimes full on paragraphs pop into my head. But if I'm not currently writing something, these gems just fade away. So I've decided to put them here from time to time, then coming back at a later date to retrieve them and weave them into a piece I'm working on.

Today's Nugget:

The two of them came back inside from enjoying the now looked down upon dirty habit, a cigarette. Generally this was a non-issue for May, she was used to the floating reek of nicotine following her co-worker, but today the double whammy of two smoke stacks was unbearable. However, this was not the cake topper. The ciggy-butt bonding duo were now both hacking, so deeply that May was almost certain she'd be calling the 'amber-lance' to come and haul the repair man and her co-worker away, their charred and tarred lungs plunked down into disinfectant on the ride to the hospital. Perhaps by the time of arrival, their lungs might be semi-clear and ready for a few more years of brutal assault from excessive inhaling.

Frogs In Space

OK this post has absolutely nothing to do with frogs. Or space, for that matter. For some reason I was thinking it was 'froggy' out - then started thinking of the Muppet Show and the Pigs In Space skit....

Anyway, it was quite foggy this morning. And humid. These are some shots I took in haste before the sun came up.

The fog is so thick you can *see* it in the photo.

Reminds me of the mountains, in the hot hazy summer days...

Condensation on the outside door.

More 'froggy' tree silhouette shots.

Modern Ramblings - A Mental Purge

At times I feel so overwhelmed - trying to be perfect in every aspect of societal expectations. Working out, eating healthy, checking my credit score, staying on top of every day technological advances, the list spirals on into infinity. It is utterly exhausting, draining what little energy I have left each day. I ponder the so called ‘advances’ we’ve made. While our modern conveniences have afforded us so many luxuries and shortcuts, are we actually just selling ourselves short?

I’m trying to be more mindful of my choices, my actions, my words. I want to find a way to still enjoy the modern way of living, while incorporating a more relaxed and simpler way of greeting my daily approach to life. Trying to breathe in a calming fashion, letting go of unfounded fears and phobias - learning to enjoy living again. It’s been a lifetime ago that my life was something I was contented with. Oddly enough, this was when I was broke - in the financial sense. I was rich in friendships and ‘extracurricular activities’. You know, those things that make you more rounded on your resume, the things they encourage you do while in college to make you a glowing candidate at future job interviews. I had all of those things, along with a heaping side of hopes & dreams to fuel my days. I enjoyed waking to the fresh start of a new day, ripe with possibility.

These days my life is filled with drudgery and monotonous routine. Life is passing me by as I become mired in the ‘routine’. Is this what adulthood means? To lose yourself, your dreams - to the blur that we call ‘life’ in our culture? My question is: How do I undo all the damage I’ve done? It’s not like dropping a bad habit and knowing your body will heal itself. I’m speaking of years of societal conditioning that has left me in a stupor. How do I break this hold I have unwittingly placed upon myself? My only answer, my only insight is this: I must regain my passion. I must, simply must rekindle my lust, my love of writing. I believe it is my only saving grace. If I don’t grab onto that lifesaver now, I will surely drown in the sea of depression I’ve been floating along in.

I sometimes glimpse the ghost of my younger self, the dreamer I once was. It is a bittersweet thing, to recall yourself in a younger light. When life held the possibility of endless sublime dreams, when every conversation sparked potential life changing ideas, and nothing seemed impossible. But then life intervenes - friends move on, they move away, they move forward. Careers and goals change, and nights sitting around drinking wine and smoking cigarettes in the middle of a shitty apartment becomes a thing of capricious youth. The big house, picket fence and decimal point numbers of the American dream takes precedence. And while I have found myself lusting for the same material possessions and status that seem the norm to strive for, the more stressed and unhappy I find myself. Because I’m caught up in the machine, I’ve trapped myself, forced my square self into a round opening. We all know how that scene goes.

Time flows by like a river, I find myself wading along while everyone else is riding the current. I blink, and a month is gone. I blink twice and a year has disappeared. Everyone else is now barely in view, yet I am still plodding along, trying to stay in one place. This is an exhausting and futile exercise, yet I find myself struggling against the current regardless.


I am a time traveler, for I am constantly in the past and the future. It is rare to find me in the present, the place where past and future should collide, if you think about it. I am unable to immerse myself in the here and now, so I sojourn between what has been and what could be. I find no solutions at either juncture. Some days life seems like more of a burden than I care to contend with. I have no rational explanation for this, for certainly I don’t lead an excruciating or horrific existence. I’ve not had a troubling youth, or any other mental traumas that would cause such upheaval. It is a rather mundane life, peppered with occasional celebratory moments. Why I am so bereft?

I am frustrated with my shortcomings - the things that others believe hinder the enrichment of my delightfully humdrum existence. For example, travel. Apparently, without travel, one cannot achieve a state of completeness. Such modern forms of moving from point A to point B bring about heart palpitations and a shortness of breath upon my contemplation. Yet, I feel as though I live only a shell of a life because I no longer have the desire to traipse far and wide across the expanse of the planet. Or, so the guilt of others leads me to believe. Is there something that I could glean, some knowledge, that would help me understand the secret of life? Could that be why my travel weary friends continue on? Are they searching for that answer, or quite possibly just following a primal urge to move in search of better conditions? {Not to say that we don’t have wonderful climate controlled conditions in which we reside and grow our sustenance now, to be clear.} Could it be a wanderlust simply inspired by their own sense of boredom? I’ve decided that I’m not falling victim to the heavy guilt trips that come my way. While I may prattle on about solitude encroaching on my fragile state of mind, I don’t feel that forcing myself into uncomfortable situations is the all encompassing solution to my so called problems.

~This is merely a mental purge of sorts to help me deal with some overbearing and heavy emotions I have been desperately trying to come to terms with. Please just take these for what they are, simply words to ease my troubled mind.~

It Was A Party

Summertime cookout! We had a little gathering and a delish spread of tasty eats. Happy 4th!

Fruit salad

Lemony lemons

The menu for the evening

That's what Willis was talkin' 'bout!

Royal fresh lemonade!

Sangria

Archie enjoying some outdoor time

Movement

This was written a few years ago, but I find it still relevant to my life today.


There are events in time that stand out. Like the name and handprints of a child permanently marked in cement, certain moments will be forever engraved in your mind. And these moments may grow less intense, may not appear as vivid, but they remain. Hours and days and years pass, but they are always there. Always with you, these milestones. These markers of a memory you cannot escape. Each passing tick of the clock moves you further away, yet you return. You mark your progress against them. They are as etched into you as you are in them. Like the waves of the ocean, the movement of time pushes you further away, and then pulls you back. Its always there, that moment. It won't let you forget it.

Beauty In the Moment

I couldn't pass up this opportunity this morning. I absolutely love sunlight on fog streaming through the trees....it seems mystical, majestic even. (Or maybe I just haven't had my coffee yet?) I'm just glad I caught it....

Wild Wild Life

I can't help it, sometimes song lyrics get lodged in my brain and then become blog post titles...
These not so little wild 'shrooms are pushing up in my back yard. I don't know if they're edible, but if they would be, they would make one hell of a meal!

"Fog" courtesy of temperature change on my lens - from indoor to out!

The lone sentinel.

I'll Be Decked

Mmmm, basil! A summertime fave herb!

Butterfly bush

Hummingbird feeder

I finally got a blue hydrangea!

Harry loves deck time

Summer calls for time spent outdoors. We fancied up our deck with our newly painted antique chairs, potted plants and a sweet chimnea. The boyf also made our fish pond all that it should be. Viva la summer!

Fire & Glass

Glass and fire - a perfect summer combination. New pitcher & shots from the chimnea....

Manual Dexterity

I was searching through the archives of my blog today in hopes of finding the right piece of writing for some contests I plan to enter. In the process of looking through each entry, I noticed quite a difference in the quality of my photography before and after the lens adapter and vintage lenses came into play. I noticed a marked improvement from the first few attempts at the shots with the manual adjust lenses to my later work.

It's easy for me to see that I have much to learn in the ways of lighting and technique, but it's a challenge I am ready to take on. There is something rewarding about taking photos with a manual lens. Don't misunderstand, I'm very pleased with the results from the automatic lens. I just find it more creative if I have to adjust the lens until the photo is just right by my standards. Creative control, perhaps? Either way, it's what lured me into photography all those years ago. I feel inspired to go home and take some photos tonight!

Summer Love

I was thinking of how fast summer snuck in - and what I would like to actually do this year. I'm making a small list so that I can easily accomplish my goals. They are:

1) Go to the Drive In Theatre....yes, we still have one! The future hubs hasn't had this delicious experience yet, so we must go!

2) Ride on the local sternwheeler, The Valley Gem. It's been a few years, and I feel it's a summer must.

3) Make sangria - the right way! Enjoyed out on the deck after a good grilled dinner with friends.

4) Hit up the pool as much as possible! Fortunately I have two open invites to make this goal a reality :)

5) Go rollerskating. Yes, rollerskating! I haven't done it in years, it's time to see if I still have some sweet moves...

While there are many other enjoyable events I would like to partake in, being a homeowner must take presedence over too much fun. I'm betting I can squeeze these five goals in, though! Happy (early) summer!