Monday, June 1, 2009
Oh What Fun!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Creative Challenge #49
Not mine, but the challenge words "rays of sunshine" brought this song to the forefront of my mind.
Lyrics
Ray Of Sunshine well sometimes the sun shines on other people's houses and not mine
Jason Mraz
some days the clouds paint the sky all grey
it takes away my summertime
somehow the sun keeps shining upon you while i kindly stand by
if there's a light in everybody send out your ray of sunshine
i wanna walk the same roads as everybody else
through the trees and past the gates
i getting high on heavenly breezes
and make some new friends along the way
i won't ask much of nobody
i'm just here to sing along
and make my mistakes look gracious
and learn some lessons from my wrongs
but sometimes the sun shines on other people's houses and not mine
some days the clouds can paint the sky all grey
and take away my summertime
and somehow the sun keeps shining upon you while i struggle to get mine
a light never hurt nobody send out your ray of sunshine
oh if this little light of mine combined with yours today
how many watts could we luminate
how many villages could we save
well my umbrella's tired of the weather wearing me down
well look at me now
you sure look as good as your outlook
would you mind if i took some time
to soak up your light, your beautiful light
you got a paradise inside
i get hungry for love and thirsty for life
but much to full on the pain
when i look to the sky to help me
and it often looks like rain
well sometimes the sun shines on other people's houses and not mine
and some days the clouds paint the sky all grey
and take away my summer time
and somehow the sun keeps shining upon you while i struggle to get mine
if there's a light in everybody send out your ray of sunshine
you're undeniably warm, and cerulean
yea you're perfect in design
i hope you hang around
so the sun, it can shine on me
and the clouds can all roll away
and the sky can become our possibility
well there's a light in everybody, send out your ray of sunshine
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Creative Challenge #47 - Whispurrs
The phrase or word this week:
whispers
Whispurrs
I crawled into bed utterly exhausted from my day. I was dressed in pink fuzz and huddled under an ancient ivory quilt, my head settled in my fluffed up pillow and I fiddled my shoulders around to find that perfect spot. After my body agreed that I had found it, I sighed a long breath of release. My mind has a way of going where it may at this time of the night, and it posed a question I uttered in a whisper. "If I wish hard enough will it make my dreams come true?" A mixture of bewilderment and excitement beamed from him, because we weren't taking our usual route to slumber. He heard my words, and eventually I heard his comforting voice answering my posed inquiry, I shouldn’t have been surprised that he answered me, but I was.His voice was soft and silky conversing with me. "Dreams are tangible, while wishes need encouragement, but all in all they are one in the same." "How do you know this?" I looked into his eyes in a lazy, unfocused kind of way as I asked him. He is so wise, he raised one of his hirsute eyebrows and he winked a gold-green at me. I smiled as I nuzzled in close and asked him again. "Just how do you come to know this as fact?" He purred into my ear as I felt myself drifting off to walk amongst the clouds and catch jars of starlight before the dawn, "Take my word for it, I know these things." I snuggled in a little closer, rubbing his back, feeling the whiskers on his face tickle me and I sighed out, "When I was a little girl my father used to say, "If trouble ever troubles you, just dream your cares away."
Somewhere off in the distance beyond the moon’s glow I could hear Bette Midler singing. "A dream is a wish your heart makes when your fast asleep. In dreams you will lose your heartaches, whatever you wish for, you keep. Have faith in your dreams and someday, someday your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true."
He must have heard the music in the night air as well, for a bit of time passed before he spoke again. "Dreams and wishes," now he spoke very carefully, deliberately. He was oh so knowing, "Dreams are to be fulfilled. You have so much more traveling to do. On your journeys you will find many stops and turning points, just look out for the one sign saying ‘Dream Boulevard’. Take it, and then, give it your best shot."
"And wishes?," I whispered, with just a little too much hope in my voice.
"Now they are just a little bit different than dreams," He spoke to me in a hushed, husky, hypnotic matter. "Compared to wishes, dreams are substantial. The are a goal intended to be hit, and dreams stand a good chance of becoming the genuine real. True. Wishes are like so much fluff off a dandelion flower, one breath and it will scatter in the breeze. Now pay attention, my sweet girl, wishes were bestowed for a reason. It’s only a human’s nature to have an abundance of wishes. The secret is to pick out your most impassioned wish. Then you need to give courage to this wish, you may have to tweak it every now and again. Allow it time to grow and mature and eventually this wish will magically turn into a dream. A dream that has stemmed from a wish is a very powerful dream indeed, one that has every chance of fulfilling itself."
I unburdened my dreams and wishes on him, each one mumbled into the indistinct stretch of night. They came out garbled as sleepy-eyed slumber stole the words away, and placed them gently into the buckets of stardust the sandman held. Somewhere, sometime in the night, I looked down on hazy white fluff that twinkled from below. I felt safe enough to fall and land on it with an awareness of belief of wishes and dreams. tj
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Creative Challenge #46
Using the phrase or below as the theme (you don't have to use the exact words) post a poem, story or photo in your blog that has been created by you. Please leave your link -HERE- so we can all enjoy your Creative Challenge and don't forget to leave your blog open to everyone so we can all view your creation(s).
Please be sure to visit the other challenges when you get a chance (that's part of the fun)!
hanging in the balance
She was hanging in the balance
Suffering the tirade of his hurtful words
Feeling the blows as he pounded away at her soul
She finally stood - finding she could gain her equilibrium
She found a form of balance in her unbalanced life
Because
They were hanging in the balance
Three cherubic innocent ones
Crying out for chance to grow
Needing a solid foundation to build a life on
Questing consistency, reliability and love
That a confident new She could provide.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Creative Challenge #45 - "Oh, how I miss it."
Please leave your link here in the comment section so we can all enjoy your Creative Challenge and don't forget to leave your blog open to everyone so we can all view your creation(s).
The phrase or word this week:
"Oh, how I miss it."
I wrote this poem 10 years ago. I so much wanted to show my children the things I loved as I grew up taking this route to my grandmother's house. When I saw the challenge, this piece immediatly came to mind. I hope you enjoy it.
It Wasn’t Supposed To Be Like This
I wanted to take my children along the route to my grandma’s house.
Twisting and turning along Lake Huron.
I haven’t taken this trip in well over twenty years.
The store in Standish is gone, as if it was never there.
Where can we stop and buy pickled bologna, Colby cheese, and Ritz crackers?
Who sells grape Nehi or giant dill pickles out of wooden barrels to the tourists now?
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The beautiful blue handrails that marched along Main Street in downtown Oscoda are gone.
Now it looks like every other small, downtown area, very plain, very generic.
How can my children daydream as we drive through, of ghost conversations held along the weather worn blue handrails.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Paul Bunyan is fenced in and gated now.
A "For Sale by Owner" sign hangs on a rusty wire that blocks its entrance.
Who can market the memories made of children, scampering up, up, up, to the very top of Lookout Tower where you could see forever?
My children will never see forever across the back of Babe the Blue Ox.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
What was called Domkey Zoo is now called Dinosaur Gardens.
The paint that once adorned this mysterious adventure-land is peeling, mottled, sun-dried and unkempt.
The statue of Jesus holding the whole world in His hands has corroded, leaving a hideous sneer on His face.
How can I explain to my children how this statue once engulfed my spirit and allowed me to feel divine in its presence?
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The ice cream store that only sold frozen custard with chunks of real frozen cream now sells regular Dairy Queen wares.
My children will never know the extraordinary experience of frozen custard melting on their tongues.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The Wal-Mart and K-Mart, Wendy’s, Burger King, all the conveniences of life fill the land that we tromped over as youngsters.
We looked for the newest adventure to fill the day.
We found the newest treasure to fill our imaginations.
How much imagination will my children take home from McDonald’s?
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The grinding stones are gone off the beach, and a grassy park replaces the mountain of discarded stones.
How can I show my children how to balance on a huge round whetstone, when the Grindstone Mountain cleared out long ago?
Now my children get to walk along the beach on a straight, smooth sidewalk.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Grandma doesn’t live here any more.
Now she lives down the street, behind a set of wrought iron gates, a headstone marks her address.
The children never knew her.
Grandma passed on when last I made this trip.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
From the backseat, on our way home, I hear giggles and whispers from my children.
"Wasn’t the Bridge awesome?"
"Did you see the seagulls eating out of our hands?"
"I never saw such a beautiful sunset in all my life."
"Swimming in Lake Huron at mid-night, can you believe it!"
"I loved eating that pastie thing!"
"No, skipping stones in the moonlight was the best!"
"No way, going to that Mystery Spot was the best!"
On and on the conversation flew between them.
As we stopped at a brand new Arby’s restaurant to eat roast beef sandwiches for dinner, my children asked,
"Can we do this again next year, huh, can we?"
And I thought, "Yes, it was supposed to be just like this."
©tjs'99
Thursday, January 1, 2009
The Year 2008 In Words
The Year 2008 In Words
January came and I was working everyday. The grandbabies were coming over and all was wonderful until January 28. That’s the day my back gave out. Thus began my unmerciful rehabilitation to wellness. I spent every other day at the chiropractor and four days a week at physical therapy. I was taking several different types of pain killers and still my back was uncooperative.
February found me turning 47. My friend took me out for my birthday dinner, we had steak and then saw a Kate Hudson movie, called ‘Fool’s Gold’. I should have saw something else that night. I don’t go to the movies much and when I did, I see a flopper of a movie. But my night was really wonderful, filled with good food, good times and great company. I was still spending four days a week at physical therapy. I had an MRI and I was still taking several different types of pain killers, my back was uncooperative, and my spirits were sagging.
March marched in a second birthday party for Brody. Becca made him a ‘Cars’ cake. He was incredibly cute and his sister was adorable. The weather was still icy, snowy and plain out cold. I was taking photographs, but writing was becoming an obsolete forum for me. I had zero inspiration and less gumption. I was still spending four days a week at physical therapy. I was left in so much pain that some days I sat in my truck for an hour before I could lift my leg to put it on the brake pedal to turn the ignition. I was on a couple different narcotics, but they only seemed to dampen my already sagging spirits. They did nothing to ease the pain.
April brought Easter and with it was an announcement that Becca was having a third baby. Brody just turned two, Cloey just 6 months old and Becca thinks she’s due in December. Great is all I could think ... Great. I quit smoking April 13 at 11:59 pm. I quit taking the narcotics. I hated the way they made me feel. I finally received my sick pay from work. Paperwork mishap they claimed. I believe I may have starved had it not been for the love and caring of my friend. The doctor having no other tricks up his sleeves for the pain I felt, made me an appointment at the pain clinic.
May delivered me to the pain clinic. I had waited six weeks for this appointment, and on the 22nd, I walked into the clinic hunched over, limping, unable to take off my jacket. The doctor felt me, prodded me, pricked me, poked me and listened to me. He told me after 1-1/2 hours the he had a diagnosis and a treatment. I was stunned, I was skeptical. He gave me a series of deep muscle shots. There were nine in all, each shot very painful, but I started to become more optimistic after the about the 4th or 5th shot. He told me I was just feeling the numbing effects of the shots, but that feeling would prove to last. I walked out of the clinic two hours after entering - 95% pain free. Unreal! It felt like euphoria. I woke up the next day with about 75% of the pain gone. It stayed gone and I was able to return to work. Ironically, school had let out or the summer... I think someone was playing tricks on me.
June was my daughters 22nd birthday. She was living at her mother in law’s in a two bedroom trailer. I was trying to learn to stop judging her and her choices.
"White Trash. For many, the name evokes images of trailer parks, homegrown meth labs, and beat up Camaros, rural poor whites with too many kids and not enough government cheese. It’s a putdown for the down and out and white. White trash is the name given to those whites who don’t make it, either because they’re too lazy or too stupid. Or maybe because something’s wrong with their inbred genes. Whatever the reason, it’s their own damn fault they live like that. They’ve got nobody to blame but themselves."
Excerpt taken from: http://nsrc.sfsu.edu/article/white_trash
This is a sad statement, but when I think of my daughter, this is clearly how I think of her. It’s a shame, because I didn’t raise her to act this way. I leave April clearly failing at non-judgmental thoughts.
July flies in and finds me remaining essentially pain free. My Scott turns 25 this month. I am busy getting ready for Scott’s wedding. I did what I could to help out and got Becca who was standing up in the wedding ready. Her husband didn’t believe she should go to the wedding. Such a waste of human skin that man is - oops think nonjudgmental thoughts Tammy - On July 31st Becca calls me to tell me to come and get her, she and waste of human skin are divorcing. HALLELUJAH!! That thought will prove to be short lived.
August moved my pregnant daughter and her two children home with me. She wants a divorce. I have a houseful of guests and a wedding in a couple days. I put her life on the back burner and enjoy my son’s wedding. It was beautiful. My daughter-in-law and my son make me so very proud. They are in school, she graduated and went back for a bachelor's degree, he is near graduation. They both work and are stashing away a down payment on a home. After a very happy occasion, I sat down with Becca and asked her what she wanted. A divorce she said. I researched divorce and found a way that I could do it for her without the lawyer fees. I am a quick learn but I feel like I pulled off a miracle when she was able to file it 8 days later. I even found a way to waive the filing fees for her, so here I though I accomplished exactly what she wanted, but that thought too would prove to be short lived. Becca asked me to come to her OB appointment with her in mid August. One of the tests the doctor had taken on the baby came back positive for Down’s Syndrome. She was scheduled for an amniocentesis. The wait was excruciating. She told me she would have the baby no matter what. Whew! I would have supported any decision she made, but I prayed for that one. The tests came back negative this time. The baby (girl) was perfect, without any sort of birth defects. I thanked God.
September eased in with the beauty only September can muster. I was finally back to work. Something I had not done in almost seven months. I was nervous about my back, as it was giving me twinges of pain now and again, but so far so good. Becca and the children were still living with me and Becca was working the welfare system only like one of her kind know how to ... she plans on going to school to be an x-ray technician. Her classes start in January. She’s getting money, food stamps and medical care from the state. Then one afternoon a man calls. It is the father of a girl my daughter’s husband is seeing. The father asks me what his problem is. I just listened and hear this man tell me that his daughter is in ‘love’ with Becca’s husband and that he would like to kill him. Then Becca took the phone and went outside with it. She talked to this man for over an hour. She was fully aware that her husband was laying with another woman while she - pregnant with their third baby - sobbed her nights away. Her husband moved back to town and moved in with his mother a few miles away from me. Becca snuck off to be with him. She never once told me the truth. I could have handled her telling me she was going to be with him and try to make it work out. She decides to lie to me all the while. She filed for full custody of the children and got it, she talked of her future without him. She never told me she was contemplating moving in with his mother to be with him.
October warms my soul just because it is October. The pumpkins, corn, apples and cinnamon smells delight me in ways nothing else does. I took a little day trip with my friend to his grandfather’s home in Montague. We took the long way home and stopped at the apple orchard. We had an amazing time. October also saw my granddaughter turn one. It was simply a gorgeous day. Then the day came that Becca left. At 10:00 am that very morning I asked her if she was going back with her husband. She replied, "I don’t know." At 10:10 am his family shows up to move her out. Seems he sent them the day before to get her. Husband had written a note saying, "It’s time. Get your stuff and get in the truck with my mom and come home." She decided to wait a day to tell me that she was going. It was ugly and I lost my temper. I had it with her and them. Get the fuck out of my home and my life. I still cry when I think of that day, but I meant it then and I mean it now. I hate what she put me through. I hate her husband. He is mean to my daughter. He lays his hands on her, he lays with other women on her, and to her it’s all okay. I think it’s disgusting beyond belief. They deserve each other. Then I hear him tell me how everything was my fault. How I forced her into getting a divorce. Fuck 'em all and the horse they rode in on is what I think about both of them. I love my grandchildren, I’ll do anything I can for them, but as far as my daughter goes, I’ll talk of things like the weather. Nothing of importance. I can’t care anymore. Caring about her only proves to hurt me so deeply I can’t heal from it. So in September I stopped, period.
November brought more pain. My back went out again. I was so scared that it would be like the last time. I called my pain clinic and they had closed down. I had to find another pain clinic and start all over again. It wasn’t but two days and I was in the new clinic getting treatment. Lumbar epidural steroid injections, two nerve blocks, and trigger point injections. Then my daddy got sick - really sick. His poor lungs were wore out already when he got a ‘touch’ of pneumonia. He went to the hospital on a Friday and they admitted him. On Monday he was taking a breathing treatment when he simply stopped breathing. He told the medical staff he wanted to be intubated. They put him on a ventilator. We were told he might die. The doctor sat us down and told us if te ventilator didn’t work, we would have to sit down for a long difficult talk. He stayed on it through Thanksgiving. He was seriously ill when he came off of it. He had some major psychosis issues. We were assured that the psychosis was due to the medicine and would subside. He couldn’t walk, his stamina was nil. He was so weak. Mom couldn't take him home, so I helped her admit him into the nursing home for rehabilitation. It was a very difficult day.
December brought hope. It took several weeks for the psychosis to leave daddy. He was settling into his routine at the nursing home. He was able to come to my house for Christmas Eve brunch. My daughter and her husband came with both the children, my mother was here. My son came, his wife had to work. And then to my surprise, two of my son’s childhood friends come. These two men were like my own as they grew up. One of my parent’s good friends came over as well. It was such a sweet, special Christmas for me. Daddy went back to the nursing home about 5:00 that night. When everyone was gone, I was left in the glow of Christmas. I went to my friends house the next day to spend time with him and his family. I enjoy my time with him, it is too little bit of time as far as I'm concerned. I have a difficult time committing myself with a long distance relationship. But that’s for another day... This day I was relishing being there, until 11:55 when my daughter called to tell me she was ready to have the baby. It was a false alarm.
My third grandchild, Daisy Ray came into the world on December 29th at 2:59 p.m. She weighed 8 pounds 3.3 ounces and was 21-1/2 inches long. I think she was Becca’s most beautiful baby at birth. 
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Yes, there really is a Santa Claus ...
Yes, there really is a Santa Claus.
I felt him residing in my heart this Christmas. As you know, my daddy has been very ill, and deep in my heart I fear that this may be my last Christmas with him. It proved to be a better day than I could have possible hoped for. Daddy came home from the Nursing Home for the afternoon. He didn't go to his home, he came to mine. It took a lot to get him here, but there were no obstacles that were so large we couldn't solve them.
I don't know who was more excited to have him home, my momma who didn't sleep at all the night before because he was coming home, me who stood in the kitchen with tears streaming down my face as he was pushed up the walkway, or my grandson who was literally screaming, "HE'S HERE! BIG GRAMPA IS HERE!!"
My boys were all here for Christmas. Ben and Larry who were at my house more than at there own when the kids were all growing up, surprised me this Christmas. Ben home from Iraq and Larry out of the service and living in Chicago decided to pay this momma a sweet visit.
My daughter and her husband bought the itty bitty ones, who were the best behaved babies I could have imagined. They ate and opened thier gifts and simply delighted everyone with their antics.
After brunch and gift opening we sat with coffee and soft drinks relishing each other with vivid stories. We talked of the upcoming birth of Miss Daisy Ray - She's coming on December 29... Brody crawled up into his Big Grampa's lap and slept, Big Grampa relaxed in the recliner and did the same for a bit.
Daddy went back to the nursing home about 5:00. My momma and me cleaned up the house and did the dishes while we waited for the men to return from taking him back to the home. I had asked Santa Claus for a good day. I got the best day I could have hoped for.
The ice held off till everyone was safely back in their own homes.
I hope that all your Christmas dreams came true as well!
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