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I'm so happy to be back at 100 words. My last batch was December 2012 and I've been missing this site. Circumstances of life take hold and time becomes limited. The first to go is the daily writing and that shouldn't be the case. Writing should be the priority and everything else comes later. Either way I'm glad to be writing and having the opportunity to read others entries. This site is thought provoking and after I'm done I feel like I got something out of it. With my cup of tea I'll do my writing and begin my day.
While reading over yesterday's entries I recognized some other 100 worders that have been writing regularly; Dana, Michael Buzz, Fyrefly, Dan Berkey. And some new ones trying their hand at this site, Rachel Hathaway, Inkpen, Nola Bishop. I started this site after entering a local 100 word writing event in my town and I never imagined I would write consistently for one full year. Discipline is something I've lacked in my life but I proved something to myself that I could do it. It doesn't matter if other people read these entries. I'm writing for myself and that's just enough.
As I settle back into a routine of waking early and having some quiet time alone, I know this is my personal time. With my husband still asleep I can sit with my thoughts and think about the day. I have nothing but time right now. No where to go, no other tasks that I have to take care of. I can drink tea and stare out the kitchen window as the morning unfolds. At times I wonder if I could write 3-6 hours a day? Or write anything more than 100 words? Won't know until I try it.
I met Dexter while he was eating a corn dog and drinking a bottle of some orange colored energy drink. He emphasized to me "the drink was packed with Electrolytes", if that was important. In my fifteen years of living in this community I've never met him but we've probably passed each other on the street or grocery store. He's one of the characters that moved here in the 70's, bought himself some land and has carved out a living doing odd jobs. I'm guessing he's self sufficient and can do about anything. Fishing, woodworking, landscaping, growing food and hunting,
The sun was blaring today as it has for the past few days. Someone called it Mayugust. May is usually still rainy and cold and we might see some sun but nothing like what we've had lately. The energy level is amped up. Everyone is outdoors wearing shorts, tank tops, sunglasses and flip flops. Lawnmowers and weed whackers buzzing all over the neighborghood. The smell of fresh cut grass. Motorcyclists in groups enjoying a Sunday ride. We ended the evening at friends for dinner and sat outside on the patio, eating homemade chicken mole, talking and playing music until 10pm.
Her pain was too great and I could tell she was barely holding it together. Only in her 30's she's got post traumatic stress syndrome. She was victimized five years ago and her assailant is doing time but the yearly anniversary of that attack is still etched in her memory. It'll never go away but the pain will lessen. As she shares it with me her tears stop and she dabs her eyes with a bunched up kleenex. I can't imagine what she's experienced but can witness her letting go. With time she'll move on and be a stronger woman.
I'm already getting behind this month and only the 7th of May. Help! Even though I'm getting up early I still have a difficult time writing my entries. I'm drawn into FB and reading all kinds blogs, articles, etc. Figure I'm gathering material for future writing but come on. Stop the mindless crap. Being that I'm almost half way done I can type along and finish this entry and write three more. I'm also optimistic that I can complete the month of April in six more days. Wishful thinking but it can be done. Six, five, four, three, two, one.
It was a sad day yesterday with good friends putting down their second senior dog within a two week period. These two dogs were like my own, a big part of my family. Since they were pups I watched them play with each other, chase down deer off their property, lounge in the sun and greet me with genuine love. Rosy would of been seventeen in a couple of weeks and Sam had turned fifteen in February. They were half brother and sister with same mom and outlived all their other siblings. The quality of their dog life was perfect.
I finished reading Larry McMurtry's latest memoir, Literary Life the second of three memoirs he's written. McMurtry's my husband's favorite author and has read all of his westerns. Lonesome Dove is the best known which was made into a TV mini series and he won a Pulitzer Prize for it. Other novels he written are The Last Picture Show, Texasville, Terms of Endearment and Rhino Ranch. He co-wrote the screenplay for Brokeback Mountain and won an Oscar for doing so. In his hometown of Archer City, Texas he has bought up old buildings and has turned them into bookstores.
After almost seven years of living on acreage growing our own food, having chickens and living the sustainable life we decided we needed a change. After months of discussions along with some health issues come up for my husband we managed to sell our propety and downsize into a smaller house. With all the hard work behind us now I realize how much it took to keep things going. What a relief not to have to mow the field this spring, weed all the beds, prune and cut back the raspberries and strawberries, plant the garden, shovel compost. I'm tired.
The sadness of a friend sabotaging her life and watching her go through it. There is nothing I can do or say that will fix her. She's determined to take herself down and the life long pattern in ingrained in her psyche. She'll take a few steps forward and bask in her progress but as she settles in it becomes uncomfortable. Something isn't right and she'll slide back down. I've watched it happened one too many times. She's like humpty dumpty who fell off the wall and I want to put her back together again. Only she can fix herself.
I did mail my mother a card wishing her a Happy Mother's Day along with a phone call. I've always had a bittersweet relationship with my eighty two year old mother. Along with my four other siblings we all feel this way but we love her. My mother lived a hard life and like many from her generation endured so much hardship. The biggest is growing up with an alcoholic father. She has shared with me snippets of her upbringing but she always says "that was water under the bridge." What she experienced has molded her into the woman today.
I'm still playing catch up on entries making up for the past four days. Only four paragraphs are needed plus one for today. That of course shouldn't be too hard but I let so many other things take precedence in my day. The story of my life. Everything, everybody, every whatever becomes a priority. I'm learning to focus on my own needs and screw everybody elses'. After a life long pattern of that behavior I can change and it doesn't take much to take the initial step. Just say "no" to someone's question, "Can you help me out with this?"
Bleary eyed she stumbled out of bed. It was 11:30 in the morning and had no idea what day it was. Somehow in a blackout she drove to the local store, loaded up her cart with orange juice, cheese, rice, seltzer water, cigarettes a fifth of vodka, two bottles of wine and a box of ice cream drumsticks. The remains of this were strewn all over her kitchen counter. With a splitting head ache she lite a cigarette and took her first puff of the day. She'll piece together the past forty-eight hours trying to remember the fun.
I was curious about the idiom "The squeaky wheel gets the grease," so I went on Wikipedia to check it out. It was written in 1870 by the American humorist, Josh Billings as a poem titled
"I hate to be a kicker,
I always long for peace,
But the wheel that does the squeaking,
Is the one that gets the grease."
I have two friends who write and complain to CEO's, insurance companies, phone company or letter to the editors. They get feedback right away. It does works.
The only thing he needed to do was tell the truth but he was trapped by the pain of his past. He had endless stories of resentments starting in his childhood up to what happened at work the other day. Over and over I listened to him speak and at one point he said "I sound like a broken record, don't I?" Shaking my head I agreed but I told him to continue. Something happens in the process of telling your story, no matter how much pain it may have caused. The gift is witnessing the release and letting go.
He's been building a cedar fence from scratch, something that's not an easy task. When times has permitted I've helped with this project by pouring the cement for the ten holes and holding posts in place while he's using the level. The process is precise in measurements, cutting the boards and pounding them in place. A perfectionist? Probably, but we'll have to look at this fence for years to come so he wants it done right. He's your DIY guy handy with just about any tool or saw and if he doesn't know how to do something he'll ask someone.
As a musical trio they've been only playing for a few months. Two of the musicians now in middle age were child prodigies. A woman on the violin and a man trained on classical guitar. The third is a seventy-eight year old man, who is playing and singing because he can and wants to. He's not that bad sounds like a very old Bob Dylan and even mumbles through the verses. The songs are jazz standards, folk and some originals. With a polite audience they clap after each song. In an odd sort of way it all sounds good.
She is tightly wound with her emotions and her world is meticulously in order. She is the captain of her ship and from experience you don't want to rock the boat. She'll flare up and snap at anyone. If I was a therapist I'd look at her childhood which I know she was born and raised in Germany and moved to the United States in her early twenties. She's been here over thirty years and worked hard for what she has. Now a US citizen she's self-employed, a home owner who's paid off her mortage and close to retirement.
Joe's words were stinging as he spewed his criticism at her. Whatever did she do to deserve this? Veronica managed to justify his behavior. At least he wasn't taking a swing at her face. It hadn't happened yet but he was certainly capable of it. His anger was generally fueled by frustration since he lost his job five months ago. She tried to tell him they'd be okay on her salary and they'd get by with the rent and bills. But Joe didn't want to hear any of it. He liked to be in control and Veronica was perfectly submissive
Some negative, dark force was in the air today. It could of been due to the crappy weather of rain or not getting enough sleep. Whatever the reason I felt like crawling under the covers and not dealing with the day. But I trudged on through and despite some differences and words were exchanged by bedtime it was better. My agenda doesn't always have to be right nor should it. Any relationship takes a commitment and communication is the key. I can't point the finger and blame because I have three pointing back at me. Simple words to live by.
Seeing the photos and videos of the devastation from the Oklahoma tornado is beyond words. To imagine going through a F5 tornado with winds up to 200 miles is incomprehensible. And to survive it. A part of me wants to fly out and help in some way. Clear away debris or help rescue the animals that will be displaced from their owners. I watch the images and I cry. For those lives lost especially the children my heart goes out to the parents. May 20, 2013 will forever be etched in their memory. A day of destruction, pain and loss.
It was a funky kind of day. From the beginning of waking up and doing my morning routine things were somewhat off. Maybe it was a sugar hangover from the night before. Or more likely not enough sleep. Blame it on hormones or not enough hormones. Whatever the reason I was bitchy and made it miserable for those around me. Going out together to run errands probably wasn't the smartest thing but we made some smart choices. Finding the living room floor rug and both agreeing on it was the score of the day even though it took perserverance looking.
I was drawn to the pink neon sign on the side of the road and made a left turn to the storage unit sale. Six to eight units had their doors open with crates of old lp's, outdated furniture, and boxes of stuff waiting to find a new home. I poked through a few of the boxes looking for something, the search for treasures. With a little patience I came across a handcarved wooden buddha statue. The bottom had a couple of chinese characters scrawled on it and the owner wasn't familiar where it came from. Mine for $10.00.
The books and a some New Yorker magazines are piling up next to my bed. I have numerous novels to read and Barbara Kingsolver's
is one that I'm excited about. As an author I've read everything she's written but whatever reason I can't get started on this one. A friend loaned me her copy and I don't have to rush through but I can't figure out why I haven't started it. Reading is an escape, an enjoyment. No strings attached to the outcome. I'll find the time to delve in and be happy I did so.
Susan's childhood story disclosed in a personal way what it was like and it wasn't the "Leave it to Beaver" family. As a child in the early 70's she dealt with her raging alcoholic father who could barely hold a job much less know how to parent Susan and her two younger brothers. Along with her depressed mother, strung out on perscription valium. What chance did she have in life? There was too much dysfunction to ever have a normal childhood. She grew up fast and learned early to care for her brothers and be both the mom and dad.
Today is a freebie, not a paid holiday since being self employed doesn't offer that option for me. I was happy to have the long weekend to enjoy which officially starts the beginning of summer. And the crowds arrived. On Saturday lines for the ferry were up to a three hour wait and car loads came. Even though the weather forecast didn't call for sunny skies visitors showed up. Everyone wanting a taste of island living and then seemingly bored when they got here. I'm in a place where everything is much slower, the pace is laid back and quiet.
A day of reflection looking at the past and coming to accept the present. Nothing is wrong with this picture. It is perfect in every way. Whatever will be will be. Que sera, sera. I'm running sentences together in order to complete today's entry. It is going slower than expected and it is what it is. On this day May 28th I have turned a new leaf. A new attitude. I have accepted the things that I can and I have the wisdom to know the difference. In the big scheme of life it is all good. One, two, three.
The memory is always there and she can't escape it. No matter what she tries to do to numb the pain it is present. For now she can look to the future and move forward. The memories hold a piece of her past and though she feels it defines her as a woman, she has the ability to change it. She has enough wisdom to let it go and with enough courage she can do whatever it takes. If the past has held her down for most of her life, it doesn't have to continue. Slowly the subtle changes happen.
The best case scenario happened. Without trying to control the outcome the pieces fell into place. It all lined up without a flaw or a snag. The hours of worrying and the time spent wondering "what if they are late or what if the traffic is backed up?" were swept away. It all came together better than he could of imagined. The traffic ran smoothly. The flight arrived earlier than expected and it all worked out. If I was to say earlier in the day "don't worry honey, just trust." He would of looked at me with those skeptical eyes.
The month of May moved fast and summer is almost here. Everywhere I look the vibrant colors of rhododendrons are in full bloom. Deep purple, a light pink, white and even an orange bush are landscaped throughout the street. The lilac trees have all blossomed with the dried remenants still lingering on the branches. For just a few weeks we are blessed with the fragrant bunches of white and deep lilac colors. The smell is intoxicating and walking by the trees I am reminded how grateful it is to be alive. The moment is simple. I take a deep breath.
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