Lizard Birth

I generally do not post forwarded emails on my blog, but this one is hysterical. Actually, I generally don’t even read them, but somehow this one from my cousin caught my eye. I laughed so hard I could barely breathe. I apologize if you have heard it before, and if you haven’t I hope it tickles your funny bone as it did mine.

If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD!

Overview: I had to take my son’s lizard to the vet.

Here’s what happened:

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was “something wrong” with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.

“He’s just lying there looking sick,” he told me. “I’m serious, Dad. Can you help?”

I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do..

“Honey,” I called, “come look at the lizard!”

“Oh, my gosh!” my wife exclaimed. “She’s having babies.”

“What?” my son demanded. “But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!”

I was equally outraged.

“Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn’t want them to reproduce,” I said accusingly to my wife.

“Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?” she inquired (I think she actually said this sarcastically! )

“No, but you were supposed to get two boys!”

“Yeah, Bert and Ernie!” my son agreed.

“Well, it’s just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,” she informed me (Again with the sarcasm!).

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

“Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,” I announced. “We’re about to witness the miracle of birth.”

“Oh, gross!” they shrieked

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

“We don’t appear to be making much progress,” I noted.

“It’s breech,” my wife whispered, horrified.

“Do something, Dad!” my son urged.

“Okay, okay.” Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

“Should I call 911?” my eldest daughter wanted to know.

“Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.” (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

“Let’s get Ernie to the vet,” I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.

“Breathe, Ernie, breathe,” he urged.

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

“What do you think, Doc, a C-section?” I suggested scientifically.

“Oh, very interesting,” he murmured. “Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?”

I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

“Is Ernie going to be okay?” my wife asked.

“Oh, perfectly,” the vet assured us. “This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn’t EVER going to happen. . …Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um . . um . . . masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back.” He blushed, glancing at my wife..

We were silent, absorbing this.

“So, Ernie’s just . just . .. . excited,” my wife offered.

“Exactly,” the vet replied, relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly..

Tears were now running down her face. “It’s just .that .. ..
I’m picturing you pulling on its . .. . its. . teeny little . . ”

She gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

“That’s enough,” I warned. We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled the lizard and our son back into the car.. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

“I know Ernie’s really thankful for what you did, Dad,” he told me.

“Oh, you have NO idea,” my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter

Two lizards: $140.

One cage: $50.

Trip to the vet: $30.

Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard’s winkie: PRICELESS!

Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class.

LIZARDS LAY EGGS!

Friendship, Sunshine, And Versatility = A Good Blog Life

I have to apologize for my slow and forgetful nature of passing on awards. I have three reasons I’m sticking it on. 1) It is difficult to narrow the recipients with all the wonderful blogs I read. 2) It is extremely time consuming to link up all those blogs. 3) Plain and simply, I’m lazy, and I like to procrastinate. I also apolgize if I have not passed one on that you gave me. My awards page keeps locking up when I put them on there, and I continue to lose random awards, each time I try to edit it. Okay, maybe I can blame it on my own  technical ineptitude. Whatever.

I was gifted this lovely”Life is Good” award from Carol at Wanderings of an Elusive Mind. Don’t you just love the title of her blog? Shis is a fabulously interesting digging in the dirt kind of lady. She is what I call my kind of people. I realize that may sound like a silly way to describe someone and her blog, but know that comes from my heart and my calling someone “my kind of people” is my highest form of compliment. Yeah, I’m simple! This award comes with ten questions to answer.

1. Do you believe in reincarnation?

 
I was incredibly fascinated with the book “Audrey Rose” when I was really young, and I wondered about this subject often. Then, religion pointed me away from the belief. And then I realized that I think it was more people rather than the Bible that said it didn’t exist. So my answer is that I have no idea, and it doesn’t really matter to me. However, if reincarnation exists, I hope I get to be someone really cool next time. Not necessarily someone who is rich and famous, but someone who touches the lives of others in a good way long after I’m gone.

2. What is your favorite season and why?

 
I’d say Fall, hands down. You probably think that’s gloomy because everything is decaying, molding, and dying, but the colors are truly magnificent. And there is little in the world that compares to the feeling of a crisp Autumn breeze slightly stinging your face as it whips through your hair. Then there are the Autumn harvests!

3. If you could time travel, what time would you travel to and where in the world?

I’m going to burst some bubbles with this one, but geographically, my travels wouldn’t take me far. I’d like to visit the land I grew up on in the times that the Monacan Indians graced the premises. I’d also like to be around Jamestown during the settlement. Yes, I know those were dreadful times, but it is our history. I’d like to know more than I’ve read in books.

4. Your favorite place to be?

No question about it,  other than being home (I am a total homebody!), I’d choose to go to our river property with our family. This is the most serene place in my life. The river calls and comforts me, and I am home. It’s a place that connects me with nature and myself that I’ve never found anywhere else.
5. If you had your choice to do anything you wanted for a day, what would it be?

Gee, that’s difficult to answer. I’d be perfectly thrilled to sit around my house all day in my pj’s and just sip coffee and write. But if I’m going to venture out, I’d love to go back to Ocracoke for the day. It’s a lovely little tourist island filled with history and simple life. It’s a step back in time. Or I’d like to spend the day at Colonial Willimasburg or Jamestown. I love history. Or even drive to the Eastern Shore for the day. And I’d greatly enjoy a day of simply listening to my father spin the tales of his life.

6. Are you a cat or dog person?

Absolutely a dog person. I like cats ok, but I love the unconditional love, devotion, and companionship I’ve gotten from both of my dogs. I think dogs rule. They are an absolute stellar  judges of character. 

7. Do you remember a particularly mad dream and if you do, what was it?

As a matter of fact, I do! Many years ago, I dreamed that Dirt Man had an affair. It was an extremely vivd dream, down to her name, what she looked like, where she worked, and even conversations with her. I was furious with Dirt Man for weeks. He couldn’t understand my anger at him because it was just a dream. It felt so real and I was so hurt that I seethed everytime I looked at him. I couldn’t get the dream (nightmare!) out of mind mind or separate it from reality. Of course, I finally got over it, but for awhile I would tell him that I couldn’t believe he dared to do that to me even in a dream! Yes, a bit on the crazy side I admit.

8. Favorite food?

Chocolate or pizza or anything involving cheese. An easier question would have been to ask me what I don’t like, and I could number them on one hand!
9. Books or TV?

Books, especially the ones that I love so much I read them over and over. I can imagine the characters and setting in my head. Movies just ruin the whole imagination thing for me. There have been many a fabulous book destroyed by making a movie of it. Now, of course, I must be fair in saying that many have also turned out great. The ones that are dear to my heart are the ones I’ve been disappointed in. I don’t watch much television except my weekly fix of “Grey’s Anatomy” or occasional documentaries.
10. Star sign?

Cancer. I used to be afraid that it might be a jinx having the same astrological sign as a dreadful disease, but I got over it. I don’t put much stock in astrology, but I will admit that I fall into a lot of the descriptions of the cancer sign. Coincidence? I used to wonder about it. Now, I have determined that I am what I am, nothing more, nothing less.

If you wish, you can substitute any of the following questions for any of those above:
“Name five things on your “bucket list” that you have not yet accomplished.”
“Choose a symbol that represents you best and why”
“Your favorite element and why”

I am passing this award on to:

Katherine at A New Day

Aging Mommy

Drama For Mama

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This award comes from Spot at what passes for sane on a crazy day. Spot is an amazing writer who is writing a book, a fabulously scary action- filled book that I promise to read every word of it and not be able to sleep for nights. It is destined to become a horror flick , and I promise that I’ll watch it through the cracks of my fingers. I think Spot just wants to scare me! The rules are that I have to list 6 things I’m a master at and then pass the prize to six other bloggers. This is difficult because I am a piddler of much and a master of none. Here goes:

1. I make fabulous biscotti.

2. I am a great bargain shopper.

3. I am the master of stuffing lots of things in small spaces. You might get killed when you open the closet and everything falls on top of you, but by golly, I got it in there!

4. I would not say that I am a master of any particular fiber art, but I will say that I am not afraid to attempt any of them. I am creative and crafty.

5. I am a speed reader. Generally, if I pick up a good book, I will stay up all night until I finish it. The only books I don’t finish in one day are ones I consider mediocre.

6. I love to sleep in on the weekends. Unfortunately, these days sleeping in susually means about 7:30 because my time clock has shifted through the years.

I am passing this on to:

Jingle

Eva

Shan at Musings and Smatterings

The Good, The Bad, The Worse

a slave of unsaid words in an insane world

Fluffy Bunnies

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This one comes from Jimmy’s Opinion. Jimmy is a great friend who writes about life and everything in between. He and his family have had some fun and weird family vacations. He’s a man that I’m proud to say lives his life in the moments between the moments. I am supposed to tell you seven tidbits about myself that you might not know. My goodness, people, I’ve bared my soul for months, what do you not know about me?!

1. I have long crooked toes.

2. My fingernails refuse to be long, strong, and beautiful.

3. My hair is massively curly and frizzy if I don’t blow it out and straight iron it.

4. I had tons of freckles on my face as a kid. The ones on my face disappeared, and relocated to my arms with age.

5. Cook for me (or give me a drink!), and I’m your friend for life!

6. I believe that we can learn the most fundamental and important things in life from small children and the elderly.

7. I believe that love and laughter are the keys to living a happy life.

I am passing this on to:

Zombie Mommy

Good Day, Regular People

Modern Day Middle Age

Wanderings of an Elusive Mind

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The Sunshine award comes from the incredibly funny Linda at The Good, The Bad, The Worse. I honestly never know when she is pulling my leg, but she always cracks me up and lifts my spirits. Linda couldn’t remember the rules that go with this one, so I’m sticking with her story and just passing it on with no strings attached!

Brown Paper Bag Girl

Being Rudri

Banterings of a Basketcase

Please check out these wonderful blogs. They rock! And roll!  And everything in between!

Drilling, Filling, And Billing

Many years ago I worked at a small dental practice. My title was office manager but I pretty much did all of the office work including setting up appointments. The staff consisted of the dentist, his assistant, the hygienist, and myself. So basically, we were a like a little family.

The dentist was the nicest man ever but he certainly carried a basketful of idiosyncrasies. He automatically gave raises June 1 and December 1 of every year…no matter what. It was nice to be appreciated monetarily. I worked for him for almost ten years. I quit my job to stay home with my children and operate a business from my home. He refused my resignation. He made his wife work for me for three months to see if I would change my mind and return. In fact, he told the patients that I was taking the summer off to be with my kids and would return in the fall. Well, I never did return. To work that is. I, and my family as well, continued to see him for our dental work until he retired and sold his practice. So anyway, after three months of my being home and one last reiteration of my not coming back, he finally caved and hired someone to fill my position.

One of his little annoyances was that he would reorganize all of the magazines in the waiting area every single day. After I had cleaned the area and organized them. I never figured out his pattern. He lined them up at a certain angle at a quarter of an inch from the edge of the tables. I copied his pattern and he still redid it behind me. He must have had a system by dates or categories or some other weird method. I even asked his wife who replied that she’d tired of trying to figure out his madness so to speak. And he always knew if a magazine was missing and would pinpoint it down to who took it. Apparently, he checked the magazines as he roamed the waiting area between patients.

His door to his operatory faced the side of my desk area. The most annoying habit of his was to wheel himself around and stretch over to see who came in the door each time he heard it click shut. I often told him that he was going to fall out of his chair one day. Sure enough, he spun around one day and fell right off the side and into the wall, drill flying through the air! I was laughing my butt off looking at him sprawled on the floor with his glasses hanging across his comb-over. When we both recovered, I barked at him, “Curiosity killed the cat, and it almost killed you. Will this teach you to stop being so nosey?” Yes, I did joke with him like that and he said once that he appreciated my humor and honesty as opposed to his sweet little assistant who just slammed the cabinets when she was angry with him.

Another thing was that every time the phone rang and I’d completed the conversation, he’d poke his head out of the door and ask who it was and what they wanted. Finally on a really busy day and in complete exasperation, I asked him, “Do you pay me?’ To this of course he replied yes. Then I asked him why and he answered because I do my job. And then I asked him if he trusted me to do my job and to tell me why he employed me to do these tasks. He answered these questions to have me tell him that if he’d like me to continue doing my job to just let me, otherwise I could leave and let him take care of all those minor details that he should not be concerned with. His wife happened to be in the office during this exchange and thought it was quite ingenious of me.

Seriously, I really did adore the man, even when he was annoying and I complained about him. He was by far the best boss I ever had. He let us leave early if we finished up before closing time. And he never, ever yelled at his employees or used curse words. I worked for a dentist prior to him that would call his employees stupid f***ers and tell us to eff off, and those were just the nice parts of that man. So, I really knew that I had it made when I worked for him. I was very spoiled and pretty much did what I wanted and he allowed most of it, unless it interfered with his idiosyncrasies and then we’d compromise or I’d just give in because after all the practice did belong to him,even if I felt like it was mine at times.

The two things that he absolutely loved about me was my memory and ability to recognize a voice over the phone. We had a fairly consistent group of patients. They never needed to tell me who they were. As soon as they said hello, I addressed them by name. Fortunately, I was never wrong because that could have backfired.

As all dental and medical practices experience, we had our share of people looking for drugs. Once my memory came to save the day. We had one such person come in with a toothache and filled out a form and did not want the tooth worked one but requested thirty (yes even stated a number) vicodin. I recognized the man immediately. I couldn’t remember the came he came in under before but I knew that it started with a certain letter. After one year, we transferred non current files to a back room. I went searching for the file. Bingo! I hit the jackpot. Same tooth problem (x-rays matched). Same address. Same employer. Same social security. Same birthdate. Different name. Same man. The doc called him out on it and the patient just melted into the chair and admitted everything. He didn’t get a prescription from our office that day.

We once had a regular patient that brought “his wife” in to see us for some dental work. We did tons of work and filed it with his insurance as she was on his policy. Insurance paid. No problem. That is until about a year later when a woman claiming to be his wife came in for work. I asked for identification, and SHE was his wife. I called the doc into the back and gave him the lowdown. I honestly don’t remember how he handled that one.

We had our share of crazy patients and situations. One of which was a lady who needed pre-medication (a massive amount of antibiotics) for dental work. She came in wobbling and told me she felt funny and she shoved the bottle at me telling me how many she took. She took the right amount…if it had been her antibiotic. She had taken a massive dose of Codeine. I had to call 911 to retrieve her. All was well and she came back in a few days for her treatment. Properly medicated and highly embarrassed.

Then there was the lady who insisted that her dentures were horrid but would not let him make adjustments. She refused to pay or return the dentures. As a matter of principle, the doc did what he had never done. He took her to court. The judge told her that if they were ill-fitting she did not have to pay for them but she did have to return them. She was furious. She decided to keep the dentures. But she did pay for them!

On occasion, I did have to assist the dentist if he assistant was out and his wife was not available. It was the big joke that he didn’t call any of his utensils by proper names to me. You know the terms like burnisher? (I think that’s correct if my memory isn’t failing me) Anyway, he’d tell me to hand him the thing that looked like it had a football stuck on the end!

This also was the office where I was held up at gun point. And I returned to work the very next day and continued working there for about five more years.

He treated his patients well and took the time to know intimate details about their lives. It may have come from pure nosiness, but they loved that he was interested. The connections between the patients were amazing, whether they were related, married into the families, or divorced and remarried. It was like being caught up in a soap opera at times. The doc would get all giddy spilling out the gossip. All in all, I loved the dental days and sometimes I really miss them. Mostly, I miss the people. And maybe the gossip!

Once Upon A Summer’s Day

(This is my entry for Jingle’s Poets’ Rally)

Dirty bare feet run without purpose

Sweaty freckled skin soaks in another day

Freedom not knowing limitations

And happiness not troubled

By anything past shoulder’s view

Laughter bounces off Susan’s black eyes,

Numerous, radiant, and rampant,

Smiling to the sun from golden petaled fields

Diamonds tangle between thickets of their stems and leaves

And the rattle warns

Thunderstorms can strike anytime

And bring the brightest sun

Down on it’s knees

I humbly accept these from Jingle

.

What We Didn’t Know Back Then

This week’s Spin topic is “prom”. Now, if you think I am going to amuse you with pictures of myself way back then, you are sadly mistaken. They would definitely be amusing, but I’d have to dig through too much junk to find them. I will just tell you that I did attend both my junior and senior prom. I did not go to either one with people who asked me, but I asked older boys who had already graduated from my school. I asked one boy that I was crazy about to my junior prom. He didn’t want to spend the money on a tux. I tried to tell myself that he was cheap and it was his loss. Truth was that I was terribly hurt. So, I turned around and did what any revengeful teenage girl would do. I asked his best friend who obliged. No before dinner. No limo. No party after. Just a prom date…no excitement. Then, I took Dirt Man to my senior prom. I plead the fifth on that one. I will just say it was fabulous!

The following pictures are of a few proms my boys attended. Seems like they continued being asked to proms long after they graduated. I finally told them that I would not pay for anymore tux rentals, flowers, dinners, or limos. After I sealed the pocketbook, it only took once for them to find paying for it themselves was not worth it!

The funniest thing I recall about proms happened about fifteen years ago. I used to go out to dinner once a month with a group of other moms. It was a girls night out thing. We went to this really nice Italian restaurant. It was eight or ten of us. What any of us failed to identify ahead of time was that it was prom night. We were amazed at not only the gowns but the bodies in them. These gowns were expensive, sequined and rhinestoned and covered little of their very well-developed bodies. Their prom dresses must have cost small fortunes. I remember going to like JC Penney and paying about $35 way back in the day for mine. And our bodies definitely didn’t look like theirs. Heck, our bodies still didn’t look like theirs. Why couldn’t we have grown up on hormonal- laden milk and meat?! And the tuxedos were no longer ruffled shirts and piped pants. They were smooth and sleek. They all looked exquisite and grown-up. And we were sure with the all night hotel rooms that everyone seems to invest in these days, the sex was a lot more prevalent than in our day. Anyway, we were sitting and drinking and making small talk about their appearances when someone piped up with how time sure changes the perspective of women. She went on to say that those girls had probably manipulated and connived all year long to get that one hot date for prom. She continued that each of us had manipulated and connived all month long just to dump our husbands for one night out! Wow, the times really had changed.

Hip Hoppin’ Be Boppin’ The Daycare Blues Away

What I love about kids is how they so innocently and sweetly pull me back into the moment. When I am overwhelmed or stressed, it can all be softened by a tiny hand cupping my cheek, an arm around my neck, a tug of my hair, a hug to my leg, a silly smirk, a soft giggle, sloppy kisses, or a simple childish “I ‘lub’ you”. These little things remind me of where I am and what is actually at task for the moment. And the answer is that I am here for them right now. It is my job, and I love it. Most days, anyway.

Another thing I love about kids is that I can act totally silly and they absolutely love it! Little people love who I really am! A child at heart, that’s me! So, I’m immature. That’s beside the point. I can’t sing. I screech. They love it when I screech. I can’t dance. I look kind of like the Energizer bunny on steroids having seizures. But they love it. And you know what? They laugh.  They dance.  And they sing with me and give me big bear hugs for being silly and fun. I hate it when people walk in us acting like this because I know they think I’m crazy!

Kids remind me to let loose, to kick up my heels. They teach me how to let the music just seep into my soul and get my groove on. They might be little, but they know that dancing feels good. It makes everything better. Our troubles disappear, and obstacles don’t seem nearly as intimidating. Kids teach me to just drop everything (except them!) and dance in the moment. They show me that it’s ok to laugh when someone farts, even if it’s me. By golly if they have a boogie bugging them, they just ram their little finger up their nose and grab that sucker and fling it! Even when I tell them it’s gross, they still do it. And you have to love a kid that knows if you’re going sit in poop, there’s no use crying about it!

I was feeling a little on the stressed side of things today. CCR’s “Down On The Corner” came on the radio. I looked at these two kids and grabbed each of them by the hands and started shaking my wild thing! We all three started laughing and spinning. We made up some crazy dance moves.

Those two have some signature moves. The other two kids danced as well, but every time I tried to take their pictures, they sat down. I guess they were more interested in a photo shoot.

We jumped up and down, clapping and stomping to the beat. Well, maybe only sort of to the beat. But, we had a great time. we giggled and rolled on the floor. We exhausted ourselves. Then we topped it off with a pizza party. And then, they took a nap. I would have loved one…but I was the one on duty. Aren’t you jealous that I get to play every day?

Sundaes, Mountains, Waterfalls, and Strawberries Must Exist In Heaven, Or I Don’t Want To Go There!

Friday night Dirt Man and I rolled into Nelson. For old times sake, we stopped at the Dairy Isle. Yes, butterscotch sundaes were in order. Yummy. We proceeded up into the mountains in the cool night air. It ended up raining all day Saturday, so we mostly just got some R&R.  The weather is not all that important when we get an opportunity to get out of the rat race and into the beauty of God’s country.

On Sunday, we went by the river property. It is truly a little slice of heaven on earth. There is nothing that compares to the solitude of sitting on the river rocks and listening to the water and knowing there is no one else around.I sat there and basked in the beauty of nature for a while. Then, I decided that I must take more pictures to share with you.  I wanted to take them from that large rock. First I sort of missed a rock on my way there and slipped one foot in. I decided to take off my shoes, and handed Dirt Man the camera. You must realize that the water is extremely cold and the rocks are slippery from algae. Little did I know that he was taping my climb.  He was waiting for an epic fail, as in case I “fell” into the water.  However, I did make it there.

I wish I could describe to you the full pleasure I get from this place. This place is like a gift to me that comes through my husband’s family. It is a place that I am one with nature. I am called by the water. It is home. I realize I live at the beach and that is water, but still it is not the same. The river calls to me. It is a place that I fall so far into myself that I slip into something much larger than I can explain. No other place on earth (that I have yet been) feels quite the same to me.

We headed down from our mountain utopia, and stopped at a local farm and picked these. That’s a lot of strawberries! Sixteen pounds to be exact. I will be making strawberry freezer jam with those. It is much easier and tastier than regular canned strawberry preserves. Yummy! I realize I have yummy in this post twice, so I guess you could say that food is always an important part of everything I do!

To complete our wonderful weekend trip, we stopped and spent the afternoon with these  lovely folks. These are my parents. We had a nice dinner with them. And came home to a clean house (makes us wonder want went on while we were gone!) and a very happy and excited dog.

From Where I Stand

From Where I Stand

In this space that is mine

I am called out of myself

A challenge to transcend boundaries

One that leaves you behind

To invent your own purpose

Though I am surrounded by clouds

You are my shadow

I feel your presence

I see you in the tangible signs

You leave behind

My breath is moist and deep

As I let go of expectations

To remain at peace

My truth is not your truth

Nor should it be your doctrine

For you should know

A wind that rips the heart

Can surely sever the soul

And taking the saliva

From another’s mouth

Will never fill your emptiness

No matter that you consume

You must be able to digest

To ever be satisfied

When freedom is confined by shadows

It is almost meaningless

And words are incomprehensible

When they come from that sacred place

That does not belong to you

Though you are within my landscape

I can not be your bridge

Nor can I soothe your storms

While riding out the furies of my own

I find a deeper resolution

As I scatter your ashes

Do not think I abandoned you

I was never yours

I have no need for validation

Because I know I am

However, I wonder

If I were to be born again

When I turned around

Would you still be there

Rewriting The Stories Of My Heart

I am a collector of stories. There are the stories of my heart. These are my feelings, the things I dig deep down and find. These are the stories that are me. Then there are the stories of my past. These are the experiences that have shaped my life and made me into the person that I am at this moment in time. The stories of my future are my dreams. These are the stories that might or might not come to fruition.

I am a genealogy enthusiast. I record names, dates, and events. I listen carefully to family stories. First I write them in my heart, and then I pen them. Sometimes, I have to recheck with sources many times over as not to let the stories of my heart reinvent the truth. I have found myself rewriting the stories in my mind in the way I wish they had occurred, but I know that’s not accurate history. I have to make a conscious choice of whether I want to hand down family lore based on my heart or whether I want to pass on knowledge based on truth. Factual is not always the way I wish to remember things, but I’d prefer to live in truth rather than dreams. In working this out my own way, I have discovered that sometimes facts alone are a bit boring but when I mix in emotion, the story resides in the heart. So, what I do is I start with facts and I let myself feel those facts deeply. I then take those facts and feelings and I weave them into words. Sometimes, the story turns out much prettier than the reality, and other times not.

I am not speaking of perception. Perceptions and reactions to certain events vary greatly among people of different personalities. I am speaking of truth. Of facts. Those do not change. We can wish and wish away. We can rewrite them in our hearts and minds. No matter how hard we try, facts remain constant. With perception, we can choose to see the positive or the negative. We can use perception to write our own histories. The light in which others recall it will depend on how we relay it. However we choose, facts remain constant.

There are times that the things we choose to believe are not even things told to us by other people. They are own versions of the way we wish things had been. Just because we choose to believe them that way does not make them truth. Nor does it have to make something seem less important. There is much beauty in truth. One only needs to look to see it.

I could choose to relay my life as a fairytale. Or I could victimize myself. I could give you two totally different stories both based on truth. Which would be accurate? The truth would be the one based on facts that is told from my heart. I come from simple means. As in all lives, there were adversities and triumphs. These experiences were mine. These are who I am. I live a simple life. In order for me to live a full life I must live in a reality based on acceptance. I choose to accept truth. I choose to accept myself.

Nagging Until The Cows Come Home

Yes, I have told you at least fifty times to do your homework. Do you remember why I keep on you? Yes, you were the kid that had a 100 percent test average that grading period, but you also had a 0 percent homework average which averaged to a D.

Must I keep asking you to take out the garbage? It’s for sanitation’s sake. Do you want it to start to smell in here? It’s your job! Hey, do you want your allowance or what? And while you’re at it, don’t forget the recycle bin!

Clean your room now! No, I’m not going to do it for you. Do you want us to end up on that crazy television show about messy people? Yeah, you’re the one who’s going to be embarrassed when that happens. I swear if you don’t clean it, I’m going to hire a dump truck to come in and haul it all to the dump!

I’ve been waiting all week for you to mow the grass. I’ve asked you at least twice or maybe three times. When are you going to do it? I really don’t want the neighbors to report us to the city for having our grass too long. If we get reported, you’re paying the fine. Yeah, buddy, that’s right.

Were you raised in a barn or something? Close the door already! Why can’t you ever remember to wipe your feet? Look at all that dirt you’re tracking in!

Again, will you please wipe the crumbs off the counters, clean up your spilled drinks, and rinse out your dishes? Do you want a house full of cockroaches or ants or mice or some other evil vermin that is attracted to food? And when you’re finished in there, try closing the cabinet doors, and turning off the light.

Must you play video games this late? I don’t know how anyone could play those stupid games that long! Aren’t you tired? I’m exhausted! Don’t you think you should go to bed now? I think you should go to bed! I’m going to bed!

Just get over it because you know I’m going to nag until the cows come home or until you mow the grass or take out the trash or whatever it is that I think you should do! And it’s all in the name of love!