Sunday, December 9, 2012
Monday, September 19, 2011
My New Blog is "Blogarita" !
My new blog is up and running and I hope to post at least three days a week now.
Please join me at BLOGARITA!
I would love you to visit and leave a comment when you can. Thank You!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Ambushed In The Underarm Deodorant Aisle
I've made a new habit to steer clear of dangerous food items when I shop for groceries every week. I've trained myself fairly well to avoid those temptations that lurk around every corner. But what happened yesterday can only be described as an ambush. I was caught off guard- amazed at the gall of some manufacturers. I was visibly shaken that they have chosen to make even a trip down the personal hygiene aisle, a dieters nightmare.
Yeah, I was minding my own business. Pushing the cart. Humming some old Eagles tune. Checking my list to see that I needed body wash, deodorant, shampoo, and toothpaste. Should have been easy, right?
Negative.
What business does Chocolate Pie body wash have amid the soap selections? Or Fruit and Yogurt, Cherry Jubilee, or Lemon Meringue? It's soap, for God's sake! I'm not eating it- I'm washing with it!
I drooled just a bit as I examined the entire array of choices in everything from soap to mouthwash.
Vanilla Sugar Scrub, Honey Almond Body Butter, Tantalizing Tapioca, and Macadamia Body Mousse. There was Pumpkin- scented- Coconut -encrusted- Strawberry- infused body delights that sounded too good to be wasted in the bath. (Unless, of course, your skin absorbed the goodness.)
I weakly wheeled my cart past personal deodorants with names like: Southern Peach, Vanilla Sparkle, Tropical Treat, and Island Cocoa.
Even toothpaste gets in on the ambush with cinnamon, bubblegum, and vanilla mint.
I quickly made my selections, pulling out of the strange hold those bath and body aisles had upon me.
So, last night I took a soaking bath with my Chocolate Cake Body Wash. I was tempted to eat the bubbles, but I wasn't sure of the calorie count. I really did smell good as I got dressed for bed.
"What's that smell?" my husband asked as we lay in the darkness.
"Silky Chocolate wafers?" I teased, "Velvety smooth cocoa mousse?
"No...not that.." he told me, as I realized he was searching for answers."I know what it is, but I can't quite put my finger on it."
"A thin mint? A chocolaty whipped kiss? I suggested, as I wrapped my arms tighter around him.
"No..no...Oh! I've got it!! he exclaimed, practically jumping out of bed,"A Chunky!"
So, my advice to you all is -don't be ambushed. Even those foods or food fragrances you think are marvelous -are bound to disappoint in the long run. Purging, binging, or throwing caution to the wind are simply self-destructive. We must always be cautious- acutely aware that an ambush could be waiting at the next family dinner, night out, or birthday celebration.
Stay clean.
Focused.
Don't be a Chunky.
Monday, August 15, 2011
August
(Originally posted Aug. 4, 2008)
Some say there is a place called Limbo.
A vague, almost mystic spot in time that exists between Heaven and Hell.
A vague, almost mystic spot in time that exists between Heaven and Hell.
It's a state of transition, of temporary confinement- of quiet oblivion.
I have always thought that August was a sort of earthly limbo.
A calm, almost floating space of days that exists between summer and fall.
Some use the term, "August at its peak".
I can see that invisible peak now.
August is like a roller coaster that you board in the summer - ride its curves and bends- rise with its peak-
and emerge at the other end, deeply aware of autumn's coming.
Your soul is suddenly seeped in the unseen ghosts of a new season that has not yet arrived.
August has always been a month of reflection for me.
A time of looking back, but yet, looking forward.
Of remembering special summer moments, but at the same time, anticipating events that will shape themselves in the days to come.
From my front porch, I watch August as it unfolds...
Soon the school bus will roar down the dusty summer roads.
Each year I watch as its yellow face appears around the curve, dancing with bouncing children.
If I blur my eyes just right, I can almost see my children there, smiling and waving back at me from the windows.
Remembering how I sent them off to school, my heart full of love and concern- but with an emptiness only a mother can know.
The world is quiet today.
August pulls the life from the grass and trees, leaving curled clover beneath my bare feet as I walk to the garden.
The surface of the pond pops occasionally with a hungry fish- its murky surface showing a cloudless sky with ripples of mid-day heat.
There were fun days here.
Days when the kids squealed as night crawlers were baited on their hooks-
their little, sweaty heads glistening in the sunlight as they patiently waited for the big fish to arrive.
They used to walk with me here, all three of them in tow, scouting for blackberries and wildflowers and yellow-spotted garden spiders.
We always had a ritual of leaving a trail of milkweed silk floating on the air behind us - making secret wishes as we freed the seeds from their spiky, dried cocoons.
I stop for a moment.
If I tune my ears just right, I can almost hear them laughing and splashing again-
their sweet voices like an infectious happiness that can never be replaced.
I miss those times and I miss my children.
But I accept the fact that their lives were long ago pulled away by duties of the world- by their young wings fluttering away to an obscure freedom-
like the milkweed silk.
And today, I know for certain that I am in a rare type of limbo.
That I am in the intricate space between being a mother
and being an aging parent.
I go to the edge of the pond and look into the water.
If I blur my eyes just right, I can almost see the reflection of a young woman.
But then she quietly begins to weep-
knowing that August leads her up the hill...
and then further down the road.
I have always thought that August was a sort of earthly limbo.
A calm, almost floating space of days that exists between summer and fall.
Some use the term, "August at its peak".
I can see that invisible peak now.
August is like a roller coaster that you board in the summer - ride its curves and bends- rise with its peak-
and emerge at the other end, deeply aware of autumn's coming.
Your soul is suddenly seeped in the unseen ghosts of a new season that has not yet arrived.
August has always been a month of reflection for me.
A time of looking back, but yet, looking forward.
Of remembering special summer moments, but at the same time, anticipating events that will shape themselves in the days to come.
From my front porch, I watch August as it unfolds...
Soon the school bus will roar down the dusty summer roads.
Each year I watch as its yellow face appears around the curve, dancing with bouncing children.
If I blur my eyes just right, I can almost see my children there, smiling and waving back at me from the windows.
Remembering how I sent them off to school, my heart full of love and concern- but with an emptiness only a mother can know.
The world is quiet today.
August pulls the life from the grass and trees, leaving curled clover beneath my bare feet as I walk to the garden.
The surface of the pond pops occasionally with a hungry fish- its murky surface showing a cloudless sky with ripples of mid-day heat.
There were fun days here.
Days when the kids squealed as night crawlers were baited on their hooks-
their little, sweaty heads glistening in the sunlight as they patiently waited for the big fish to arrive.
They used to walk with me here, all three of them in tow, scouting for blackberries and wildflowers and yellow-spotted garden spiders.
We always had a ritual of leaving a trail of milkweed silk floating on the air behind us - making secret wishes as we freed the seeds from their spiky, dried cocoons.
I stop for a moment.
If I tune my ears just right, I can almost hear them laughing and splashing again-
their sweet voices like an infectious happiness that can never be replaced.
I miss those times and I miss my children.
But I accept the fact that their lives were long ago pulled away by duties of the world- by their young wings fluttering away to an obscure freedom-
like the milkweed silk.
And today, I know for certain that I am in a rare type of limbo.
That I am in the intricate space between being a mother
and being an aging parent.
I go to the edge of the pond and look into the water.
If I blur my eyes just right, I can almost see the reflection of a young woman.
But then she quietly begins to weep-
knowing that August leads her up the hill...
and then further down the road.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Legacy
(Originally posted Oct. 15, 2009)
Someday
there will be nothing left of me
except a stack of photographs
lying somewhere
in a musty drawer-
with old buttons
and pennies
and pens with no ink.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
It's About Time Someone Asked
Yesterday I was making some last minute
arrangements for my upcoming trip.
I relayed the necessary information
to the pleasant lady on the phone
and she confirmed my reservations.
"Do you have any special needs?" she asked,
catching me in a strange mood.
All I could see is this big
conversation bubble popping out
over my head,
my fingertip touching my chin,
my eyes glancing innocently
toward the heavens
as I pondered the question.
Then my video daydream started...
There I am.
Standing on a podium.
Making a speech.
"Yes! I have special needs!
You better believe it, Buster!"
And I know I speak for all the
women across this great nation
when I voice my list of needy things!"
1. We need a chocolate bar that
is both terrifyingly delicious,
but also calorie free.
2. We need toilet paper
that replaces itself on the holder.
3. We need carpet that vacuums itself,
floors that never need mopped,
and a house that never gets dusty.
4.We need a vacation every three months
and a mini-nap every day.
5. We need bras that fit,
underwear that doesn't creep up,
and pajamas that are both super comfy
and sophisticated-ly sexy.
6. We need heels that feel like sneakers,
sneakers that feel like slippers,
and slippers that feel like bare feet.
7. We need to be told we are pretty
even when we look ugly-
that we look thin, even when we are fat,
and that we are funny, even when
we can't remember the punchline.
8. We need a good hairstyle.
One that won't take $15.73 worth
of product every week to keep it
full, soft, colorful, manageable and shiny.
9. We need to outlaw irons and ironing boards.
It is both an outdated and demeaning act
that has no place in modern society.
(Sorry, Tina!)
10. We need elegant perfume, jewelry
and clothing at discount prices.
11. We need a Big Lots right next door.
12. We need nail polish that dries in a second,
eyebrows that stay plucked,
and tummy's that stay tucked.
13. We need cars that are fast, cool, economical, and fashionable-
but still large enough to hold every flea market bargain imaginable.
14. We need the secret to a perfect pie crust.
15. We need to be able to buy
Botox in a bag,
boobs in a bottle.
and youth in a pill.
...suddenly the video daydream fades...
The crowd grows small.
Night falls.
I step down from my soap box.
And return to the real world.
I ask you today, ladies-
Do you have special needs?
Let your voice be heard!
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Labor Day At The Cabin
(Click photos to enlarge)
The leaves are starting to turn...
Mushrooms are popping out of the damp soil...
Persimmons are ripening in the sun...
I picked some flowers for the porch...
More mushrooms...They look like little umbrellas, don't they?
My pear tree looks like a "duck tree"...
Walking sticks lean against the tree, ready for a impromptu hike...
We could go here....
Or here...
Or even here...
Can you see the smiley faces in the wood pile?
The yard is freshly mowed...
Cool morning air drifts in the back door...
All tucked away and waiting for autumn....
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