...quiet, about a lot of things...
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Poetry Thursday
The prompt this week was everyday sayings, used all the time. I wrote something about this a few weeks back...."On the Bus",... and "Back on the bus" in june archives. So its gonna be hard to be fresh. Each week, I sit down to write this poem, in the AM usually in my nighty with coffee and bed head. My muse is usually sitting somewhere near me,poking me in the back with his wand until I get the thing done. However, He must have left for vacation EARLY..having misread the memo I sent him RE: VACATION PLANS. So, I'm on my own here...
The first fresh thing that came to mind, isn't even my thought. This one is from Anne Lamott...in her book "Traveling Mercies...Some thoughts on Faith". Anne claims the best prayers she knows are "Help me, Help me, Help me and Thank you, Thank you, Thank you".
One thing I love about Anne's writing, is she never goes "high brow". While she is concerned with ton of weighty issues, she admits her prayers are domitated at times with the self. It's like the flight attendant tells you every time you fly. Your mask FIRST, then help others.
So with that in mind, no more delays...Happy Poetry Thursday to one and all!
Be sure to check out the goodies!
Head Master
It's true
that
I need
you
more than
i want
you
I can't
say
for sure
when
I knew
I was
lost.
It must
have
happened
when I
stopped
speaking
out
just
let you
read
my thoughts
instead.
my head
is
no place
for
you to
hang
your
hat.
"please
go" i try
to
form
it in
in secret
but find
no secret
safe
from you
wlf 7:58 am
The first fresh thing that came to mind, isn't even my thought. This one is from Anne Lamott...in her book "Traveling Mercies...Some thoughts on Faith". Anne claims the best prayers she knows are "Help me, Help me, Help me and Thank you, Thank you, Thank you".
One thing I love about Anne's writing, is she never goes "high brow". While she is concerned with ton of weighty issues, she admits her prayers are domitated at times with the self. It's like the flight attendant tells you every time you fly. Your mask FIRST, then help others.
So with that in mind, no more delays...Happy Poetry Thursday to one and all!
Be sure to check out the goodies!
Head Master
It's true
that
I need
you
more than
i want
you
I can't
say
for sure
when
I knew
I was
lost.
It must
have
happened
when I
stopped
speaking
out
just
let you
read
my thoughts
instead.
my head
is
no place
for
you to
hang
your
hat.
"please
go" i try
to
form
it in
in secret
but find
no secret
safe
from you
wlf 7:58 am
Labels: Poetry Thursday
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Unconsious Mutterings
This is the newest prompt from Unconsious Mutterings Here goesS
- Newspaper :: Print, propaganda
- Crucify :: Jesus, Mother
- Sausage :: Brautwurst, pizza, fat fingers
- Handy :: Man, Dandy, Hunter (a horse show class)
- Cloak :: and dagger, Dracula, Witches, Harry potter
- Drunk :: Mom, Lush,and disorderly,
- Fuel :: Rocket,Furnace
- Caress :: Cherish, Linger,
- Itch :: scratch, seven year,
- Vehicle :: grown up, engineer, policeman
Knock, knock...housekeeping?!?
Large amounts of my free time(there's a phrase of interest...free time...as opposed to what..slave time???..sorry I digress) are spent at the barn. My husband has referred to it as a warp in the space time continuum. Example being...
"Hey Hun, when will you be back from the barn?"He says
"oh, around 2, I guess..." I say
"Ok, we will eat dinner with out ya then...see ya before the 10 o'clock news though..right??" He replies..
There is no arguing...he's more right than wrong. I enter a different life at the barn. It seduces me to stay longer, like a beautiful selfish mistress. But the very odd thing, is that its not all what you think it would be.
There is the time I get to ride my horses. There is no better place for me to be, than on the back of a horse. This is my passion...The most passionate I've been about anything....It is my selfish, just for me, passion. Some times I'm laughing in the saddle, sometimes I'm crying...Sometimes the world is my oyster, sometimes I am faced with despair and frustration. Sometimes I'm with friends, cackling like the hens we are...sometimes I'm alone with the wind and my horse's ears.
But that is just a part of it...and really, on the overall, a small part. There are so many details and minutia surrounding horses...but Today I'll focus on...Poop.
If you have ever been to a barn, you know healthy horses poop....alot. This is a really good thing!! If you have a horse that doesn't produce poop..you have either a very sick horse...or a dead horse.
That being said, most barns I've been associated with...are very clean places. They have to be. This keeps the horses well, and the flys down in summer. Non horsey people talk about the smell of barns...but It just smells like horses to me.
When we had horses at home, one of the first things we had to have, besides hay horses and fences...was a "Manure plan.." or where to pile the poop...
But at the barn, where it goes to, to pile up, is their problem...Putting it there, is mine. I used to have a stall thst was cleaned by the barn help...but with the arrival of HER ROYAL CALLIE...having two such stalls, was making my monthly stable bill look more and more like our MORTGAGE!!! So, out they went...to the low rent district...where cleaning is up to me...again.
I have stated before, I hate all housework. I would have a staff if I could...I'm not a princess...It's just I HATE IT!!! It's inside, It's never ending, and It makes me UGLY..of mind, body and soul. I love caring for my family...but to me that means a safe house, good food (I do like to cook....sometimes??) and warm heart. It does not mean dusting and vacumming. Our kitchen stays cleanish...but very far from pristine...and the bottom floor of the house..(our PUBLIC FACE) is presentable...most times...boy am I tapp dancing, or WHAT.
In comparison, I don't mind cleaning a pen.(outside stall) It is my version of the Zen Rock or Sand garden. The tines of my fork leave patterns in the dirt. I wear no Ipod (don't own one.) I sometimes am scared by the task in from to me...if I have been busy at home..and have been neglectful for a day or two. But the only place to start is with the first pile...one pile at a time, my biceps working as I fill the buckets. Then carrying the buckets to the spreader..thank god not too far away.
I lift the bucket onto my hip, reposition hands, then dump...till its done. My husband is much quicker than I am...He is stronger..He swings the buckets in one fluid motion. He is a man. I love to watch him work. But he doesn't help me with this chore much...and I don't mind it. Carrying those heavy buckets makes me feel like a pioneer, having to work at and for every thing.
When all the obvious piles are gone, then you rake the fines (smaller pcs scattered by the wind or hooves.) As I rake I feel my abs tighten and my back stretch. The plastic tines scraping the dry earth. Disorder becomes order, chaos becomes still, empty space. I'll stop to scratch an ear or rump of a horse. My mare likes to drag the half full buckets around with her teeth, toying with me, teasing to knock them over.
I do my work, usually, with a surprisingly cheerful heart. A chamber maid, a hand servant to my horses. My horses, who serve me admirably and well. I gladly tend to them. There really is no more simple or basic task. I willingly receive the yoke...and bear the burden.
When I finally pull into our garage, an hour or so late, my husband comes out to greet me. He is used to the mess I am as i arrive. As we go into the house, and on to more jobs to be done, I pass the right side of my dusty pick up, and read the bumper sticker placed there with pride.
HORSEWORK BEFORE HOUSEWORK.
Enough said.
"Hey Hun, when will you be back from the barn?"He says
"oh, around 2, I guess..." I say
"Ok, we will eat dinner with out ya then...see ya before the 10 o'clock news though..right??" He replies..
There is no arguing...he's more right than wrong. I enter a different life at the barn. It seduces me to stay longer, like a beautiful selfish mistress. But the very odd thing, is that its not all what you think it would be.
There is the time I get to ride my horses. There is no better place for me to be, than on the back of a horse. This is my passion...The most passionate I've been about anything....It is my selfish, just for me, passion. Some times I'm laughing in the saddle, sometimes I'm crying...Sometimes the world is my oyster, sometimes I am faced with despair and frustration. Sometimes I'm with friends, cackling like the hens we are...sometimes I'm alone with the wind and my horse's ears.
But that is just a part of it...and really, on the overall, a small part. There are so many details and minutia surrounding horses...but Today I'll focus on...Poop.
If you have ever been to a barn, you know healthy horses poop....alot. This is a really good thing!! If you have a horse that doesn't produce poop..you have either a very sick horse...or a dead horse.
That being said, most barns I've been associated with...are very clean places. They have to be. This keeps the horses well, and the flys down in summer. Non horsey people talk about the smell of barns...but It just smells like horses to me.
When we had horses at home, one of the first things we had to have, besides hay horses and fences...was a "Manure plan.." or where to pile the poop...
But at the barn, where it goes to, to pile up, is their problem...Putting it there, is mine. I used to have a stall thst was cleaned by the barn help...but with the arrival of HER ROYAL CALLIE...having two such stalls, was making my monthly stable bill look more and more like our MORTGAGE!!! So, out they went...to the low rent district...where cleaning is up to me...again.
I have stated before, I hate all housework. I would have a staff if I could...I'm not a princess...It's just I HATE IT!!! It's inside, It's never ending, and It makes me UGLY..of mind, body and soul. I love caring for my family...but to me that means a safe house, good food (I do like to cook....sometimes??) and warm heart. It does not mean dusting and vacumming. Our kitchen stays cleanish...but very far from pristine...and the bottom floor of the house..(our PUBLIC FACE) is presentable...most times...boy am I tapp dancing, or WHAT.
In comparison, I don't mind cleaning a pen.(outside stall) It is my version of the Zen Rock or Sand garden. The tines of my fork leave patterns in the dirt. I wear no Ipod (don't own one.) I sometimes am scared by the task in from to me...if I have been busy at home..and have been neglectful for a day or two. But the only place to start is with the first pile...one pile at a time, my biceps working as I fill the buckets. Then carrying the buckets to the spreader..thank god not too far away.
I lift the bucket onto my hip, reposition hands, then dump...till its done. My husband is much quicker than I am...He is stronger..He swings the buckets in one fluid motion. He is a man. I love to watch him work. But he doesn't help me with this chore much...and I don't mind it. Carrying those heavy buckets makes me feel like a pioneer, having to work at and for every thing.
When all the obvious piles are gone, then you rake the fines (smaller pcs scattered by the wind or hooves.) As I rake I feel my abs tighten and my back stretch. The plastic tines scraping the dry earth. Disorder becomes order, chaos becomes still, empty space. I'll stop to scratch an ear or rump of a horse. My mare likes to drag the half full buckets around with her teeth, toying with me, teasing to knock them over.
I do my work, usually, with a surprisingly cheerful heart. A chamber maid, a hand servant to my horses. My horses, who serve me admirably and well. I gladly tend to them. There really is no more simple or basic task. I willingly receive the yoke...and bear the burden.
When I finally pull into our garage, an hour or so late, my husband comes out to greet me. He is used to the mess I am as i arrive. As we go into the house, and on to more jobs to be done, I pass the right side of my dusty pick up, and read the bumper sticker placed there with pride.
HORSEWORK BEFORE HOUSEWORK.
Enough said.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Sunday Scribblings
Before I start I just have to note that this is my 41st entry. I am also 41 years old, so had to pay homage to the cowinkee God. and how fitting that Music is the prompt...all those "easy listening" stations say its the soundtrack of our lives.So I rewind, doubletime through all the beats and harmonys of my life..in a bout 5 seconds..(linger longer and I would get lost,and never get this written.)
I made a flash judgment and picked this musical memory out of my bag of songs.
Music for Sunday Scribblings
I had just had my first daughter. She was probably less than 6 months old. My husband and I were going through a rough patch. I did not know if we would make it through. Looking back, I realize how young we were. I was 25, but he, he was just 21. Just out of college...first job...and first kid...and first love. I really think I was his first love. I think I hit him hard. Sometimes love doesn't wait for its entrance cues. I arrived, and upstaged his whole life.
He had spent a summer in Europe with a friend, and had just now returned. He had seen the whole world. Now,coming back to me, I think he was realizing his world was closing in, and I was it's nucleus.
You know how little boys look, if their dress shirts and neck ties are too tight.....they tug and pull at the button and knot, to get it to loosen a bit..so they can breath. Certain boys, just rip these ties off... freeing themselves from the grip of growing up..... Other's just strain to get a bit more room for air, but secretly enjoy becoming men, secretly enjoy the accomplishment of handling the pressure, and dealing with the new constraints. This was my husband. He had his hand on his tie....and It was trying to make its mind up.
It was November, the holidays, with their crushing weight of expectation, were just around the corner. I wanted to celebrate all of what was to come...so many blessings...and he was feeling the same, with an equal dose of panic.. no doubt seeing Christmas after Christmas playing before him in terrifying technicolor.
We would never have a Christmas just us (the two of us). Our family came premade, with a bright shiny bow. THE BIG PRESENT, THE ONE YOU DREAMED AND WISHED FOR....but are still a little scared to open... (Was it more fun to want it...than to get it?).
So I directed the next moment in time. My mom took the baby. We took his old 61 VW and my boom box and a tape, cued up inside its mouth. We drove to a major landmark in Pasadena CA...suicide bridge...spanning the Arroyo(valley...) with is incredible arches and gothic ballasts.....It was gated off at both ends...under renovation. the bridge was probably 1 mile long...maybe half mile. It has old fashion street lamps dotting its back like diamonds.
I took him there, he hadn't ever done more than drive by it on the way home from work. He had no clue. It was dark, and foggy. We climbed the chain link fence..him carrying the boom box.. me trying not to die...baby asleep at home in her crib. I walked him to the middle of the two laned deserted bridge and stopped and pushed the button on the box. Chris Issak started to sing just for us...a love song just for us..strange and longing..not sure and certain.. I asked him to dance with me...and he did..to these words
Wicked Game
World was on fire
no one could save me but you
Strange what desire
makes foolish people do
I never dreamed i find somebody
like you
I never dreamed I'd lose somebody
like you
Oh I want to fall in love
with you
what a wicked game to play
make me feel this way
what a wicked thing to do
make me dream of you
oh I want to fall in love
with you
Nobody loves no one.....
He held me in his arms, and swayed me back and forth. We danced like kids at the prom...we were kids..though this was much more serious than the prom... it was still our spotlight dance....
Climbing back over the gate...he stayed behind me this time...and made sure I didn't fall.
I made a flash judgment and picked this musical memory out of my bag of songs.
Music for Sunday Scribblings
I had just had my first daughter. She was probably less than 6 months old. My husband and I were going through a rough patch. I did not know if we would make it through. Looking back, I realize how young we were. I was 25, but he, he was just 21. Just out of college...first job...and first kid...and first love. I really think I was his first love. I think I hit him hard. Sometimes love doesn't wait for its entrance cues. I arrived, and upstaged his whole life.
He had spent a summer in Europe with a friend, and had just now returned. He had seen the whole world. Now,coming back to me, I think he was realizing his world was closing in, and I was it's nucleus.
You know how little boys look, if their dress shirts and neck ties are too tight.....they tug and pull at the button and knot, to get it to loosen a bit..so they can breath. Certain boys, just rip these ties off... freeing themselves from the grip of growing up..... Other's just strain to get a bit more room for air, but secretly enjoy becoming men, secretly enjoy the accomplishment of handling the pressure, and dealing with the new constraints. This was my husband. He had his hand on his tie....and It was trying to make its mind up.
It was November, the holidays, with their crushing weight of expectation, were just around the corner. I wanted to celebrate all of what was to come...so many blessings...and he was feeling the same, with an equal dose of panic.. no doubt seeing Christmas after Christmas playing before him in terrifying technicolor.
We would never have a Christmas just us (the two of us). Our family came premade, with a bright shiny bow. THE BIG PRESENT, THE ONE YOU DREAMED AND WISHED FOR....but are still a little scared to open... (Was it more fun to want it...than to get it?).
So I directed the next moment in time. My mom took the baby. We took his old 61 VW and my boom box and a tape, cued up inside its mouth. We drove to a major landmark in Pasadena CA...suicide bridge...spanning the Arroyo(valley...) with is incredible arches and gothic ballasts.....It was gated off at both ends...under renovation. the bridge was probably 1 mile long...maybe half mile. It has old fashion street lamps dotting its back like diamonds.
I took him there, he hadn't ever done more than drive by it on the way home from work. He had no clue. It was dark, and foggy. We climbed the chain link fence..him carrying the boom box.. me trying not to die...baby asleep at home in her crib. I walked him to the middle of the two laned deserted bridge and stopped and pushed the button on the box. Chris Issak started to sing just for us...a love song just for us..strange and longing..not sure and certain.. I asked him to dance with me...and he did..to these words
Wicked Game
World was on fire
no one could save me but you
Strange what desire
makes foolish people do
I never dreamed i find somebody
like you
I never dreamed I'd lose somebody
like you
Oh I want to fall in love
with you
what a wicked game to play
make me feel this way
what a wicked thing to do
make me dream of you
oh I want to fall in love
with you
Nobody loves no one.....
He held me in his arms, and swayed me back and forth. We danced like kids at the prom...we were kids..though this was much more serious than the prom... it was still our spotlight dance....
Climbing back over the gate...he stayed behind me this time...and made sure I didn't fall.
Friday, June 23, 2006
The gloves come off...
I am in a panic. My families upcoming vacation requires...Sailing gloves. Also a book that has TWO PAGES of info on proper use of the "head"..The potty for us land lubbers... Sailing gloves are for ACTUALLY SAILING...not protecting one's hands from a chill from a frozen drink...They are for hauling in the so and so, and trimming the such and such....and my husband's to be captain of the voyage of the dammed...Crew of 3...Me and two daughters....for 7 NIGHTS not a three hour cruise....
Please believe me when I tell you, I have a RIPPIN sense of adventure...I'm usually up for most things...but there are GREAT WHITES where we are going!!!!
Mags is not going to be in for wearing a fluorescent orange life vest 24/7. How does a girl TAN through buoyant fabric???..."REALLY MOTHER, GET A GRIP!!" And when I explained to Rach we could only pack one soft sided duffel each, for 2 and a half weeks...You'd thunk I chopped off a useful appendage...
I would never chop off an appendage! I need all the help I can get!!! ALL hands on deck MAYTEES and don't forget yer gloves!! ARRRRR!
Please believe me when I tell you, I have a RIPPIN sense of adventure...I'm usually up for most things...but there are GREAT WHITES where we are going!!!!
Mags is not going to be in for wearing a fluorescent orange life vest 24/7. How does a girl TAN through buoyant fabric???..."REALLY MOTHER, GET A GRIP!!" And when I explained to Rach we could only pack one soft sided duffel each, for 2 and a half weeks...You'd thunk I chopped off a useful appendage...
I would never chop off an appendage! I need all the help I can get!!! ALL hands on deck MAYTEES and don't forget yer gloves!! ARRRRR!
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Poetry Thursday
This weeks prompt was hard for me. I'm mostly friendly with all words...but one just now popped into my head...The one my girls say..."MOM HATES that expression"...so lets see if I can make something out of nothing.....(cause really, I got nothing this time folks......)
Apollo Out
I've lived
long enough
to see
words
I speak,
(was taught
to speak
and
E NUN CI ATE,)
change
meaning,
well, if
not meaning,
intention.
just
a new
set of
seekers
(in
sneakers)
trying to
plant a
flag of
discovery
in an already
well mined
field
finding no
virgin
ground
no dirty
thought
unused,
one
young lad,
perhaps
poet to be,
just turned
the flag
on its head
instead!
plunging
it as deep
as he knew how
(for now)
and
called it
Good
or did
he say
BAD?
i couldn't hear
he was
mumbling.
wlf 8:15am
PEACE OUT, WORD TO MY PEEPS
Check out the GOOD STUFF at POETRY THURSDAY
PS...... I LA LA LA LA LINKED!!!!!!! WHOSE BAD??? I'M BAAAAADD!! WOOOO WHOOOO!! Uh huh, Uh huh, Uh Huh, UH HUH!
Apollo Out
I've lived
long enough
to see
words
I speak,
(was taught
to speak
and
E NUN CI ATE,)
change
meaning,
well, if
not meaning,
intention.
just
a new
set of
seekers
(in
sneakers)
trying to
plant a
flag of
discovery
in an already
well mined
field
finding no
virgin
ground
no dirty
thought
unused,
one
young lad,
perhaps
poet to be,
just turned
the flag
on its head
instead!
plunging
it as deep
as he knew how
(for now)
and
called it
Good
or did
he say
BAD?
i couldn't hear
he was
mumbling.
wlf 8:15am
PEACE OUT, WORD TO MY PEEPS
Check out the GOOD STUFF at POETRY THURSDAY
PS...... I LA LA LA LA LINKED!!!!!!! WHOSE BAD??? I'M BAAAAADD!! WOOOO WHOOOO!! Uh huh, Uh huh, Uh Huh, UH HUH!
Labels: Poetry Thursday
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
A tale of Two Teachers
I went back and checked my EXTENSIVE archives..to verify that indeed, I am in a bad ass bitchy mood every Monday...this is news to me, honest...but I'll tuck it in my to do(or change) file. The universe was telling me to lighten up today...and this is the tale she spun.....
Today was Kindergarten graduation, an my last day of work for almost 2 months....yipee skippy! I love kinder graduation. This year, the three different sections had all made various daisy masks..(petal around the outside, kid faces in the middle) So cute..It hurt. My fav teacher's class had hand prints on their petals.
The boy I help..."H"... was awesome!!! He stood on those bleachers like a pro..and did almost all the hand gestures to the songs...and didn't sit down or rock once. I was so proud.
Feeling Pride for something that was HIS to be prideful of...was the moment that the universe lifted her head and decided to remind me off my place. Boy does she have one wicked sense of humor.
After the program, all filed back to the kindie clasrooms. I had made H and the rest of "my kids" little gift bags for an end of the year treat. I waited for "H" to come in with parents, and grand parents, to give a hug...and truth be told, get a great big hug from H. I was waiting for my kodak moment. Instead, in walked H, with Miss SONGER...his old helper, whom I had replaced.
A bit of backround...all the boys that I work with, had always said Miss Songers name in the hushed tones of sweet memory. But none of the girls had ever metioned her to me. Her name usually came up when I made one of the boys cry. (this is, by the way, Much easier to do with boys..made all those boys cry, at least once. Never had a little girl shed one crocodile tear..just for reference) Anyway, when I would get one of these boys a kleenex and tell them to wipe their nose and chin up, my friend...they would always drift off and "Wish Miss SOOONNGGEERR was still here..." I never met her...but boy, she must have been a softie, I thought.
I WAS WRONG. Miss Songer is not a softie...MISS SONGER IS A HOTTIE!! While, I think it's safe to say, she is older than me, She is definately...ummm...More FLASHY than me...She left mid term...to be a personal trainer...(should have clued me in...right then and there).
In she walked, In her skimpy cami top, IMPLANTS proceding her, and Fawned all over MY "H". (note, a Touch of Bitterness). I don't think he even knew I exsisted. She snuggled and cuddled and......UGHHHHH! I held my pewny gift bag out to the mom...and managed a small wave to H...when he wasn't ENCLEAVAGED...and left.
We had worked pretty hard this semester on eye contact... and the only thing his eyes had contact with....well, let's just say it wasn't my eyes. H had this silly look on his face, like he had just met SANTA....and SANTA was a CENTERFOLD.
After distributing the rest of my gifts...(one of the kids said...Hey, Why'd you bring me lunch??...the gift was in a craft paper brown bag that I stayed up to stamp...JUST OPEN THE DANG THING I muttered....)I slunk out of the school feeling not heroic and loved...no, just out done and out shined.
Leave it to the VIXENS! They can always steal a girls thunder...I drove away, Thinking of each boys DREAMY expression, with the words MISS SONGER on his lips. What a BOOB I had been....
Then it hit me...as I turned up the radio....These were the SPECIAL NEEDS boys..the ones with delayed speech or learning impairments, or Autism...and here they were..RIGHT ON TRACK...acting like all the other boys would..even at their tender age!! They were just one of the boys...dreamily falling under the spell that would hold them captive for life. Right on schedule.....
I sang along with the beachboys...wishing they all could be California girls..(Miss Songer looked like a California Girl.....)
Oh well, some things you need to help with, but others just come naturally!
Today was Kindergarten graduation, an my last day of work for almost 2 months....yipee skippy! I love kinder graduation. This year, the three different sections had all made various daisy masks..(petal around the outside, kid faces in the middle) So cute..It hurt. My fav teacher's class had hand prints on their petals.
The boy I help..."H"... was awesome!!! He stood on those bleachers like a pro..and did almost all the hand gestures to the songs...and didn't sit down or rock once. I was so proud.
Feeling Pride for something that was HIS to be prideful of...was the moment that the universe lifted her head and decided to remind me off my place. Boy does she have one wicked sense of humor.
After the program, all filed back to the kindie clasrooms. I had made H and the rest of "my kids" little gift bags for an end of the year treat. I waited for "H" to come in with parents, and grand parents, to give a hug...and truth be told, get a great big hug from H. I was waiting for my kodak moment. Instead, in walked H, with Miss SONGER...his old helper, whom I had replaced.
A bit of backround...all the boys that I work with, had always said Miss Songers name in the hushed tones of sweet memory. But none of the girls had ever metioned her to me. Her name usually came up when I made one of the boys cry. (this is, by the way, Much easier to do with boys..made all those boys cry, at least once. Never had a little girl shed one crocodile tear..just for reference) Anyway, when I would get one of these boys a kleenex and tell them to wipe their nose and chin up, my friend...they would always drift off and "Wish Miss SOOONNGGEERR was still here..." I never met her...but boy, she must have been a softie, I thought.
I WAS WRONG. Miss Songer is not a softie...MISS SONGER IS A HOTTIE!! While, I think it's safe to say, she is older than me, She is definately...ummm...More FLASHY than me...She left mid term...to be a personal trainer...(should have clued me in...right then and there).
In she walked, In her skimpy cami top, IMPLANTS proceding her, and Fawned all over MY "H". (note, a Touch of Bitterness). I don't think he even knew I exsisted. She snuggled and cuddled and......UGHHHHH! I held my pewny gift bag out to the mom...and managed a small wave to H...when he wasn't ENCLEAVAGED...and left.
We had worked pretty hard this semester on eye contact... and the only thing his eyes had contact with....well, let's just say it wasn't my eyes. H had this silly look on his face, like he had just met SANTA....and SANTA was a CENTERFOLD.
After distributing the rest of my gifts...(one of the kids said...Hey, Why'd you bring me lunch??...the gift was in a craft paper brown bag that I stayed up to stamp...JUST OPEN THE DANG THING I muttered....)I slunk out of the school feeling not heroic and loved...no, just out done and out shined.
Leave it to the VIXENS! They can always steal a girls thunder...I drove away, Thinking of each boys DREAMY expression, with the words MISS SONGER on his lips. What a BOOB I had been....
Then it hit me...as I turned up the radio....These were the SPECIAL NEEDS boys..the ones with delayed speech or learning impairments, or Autism...and here they were..RIGHT ON TRACK...acting like all the other boys would..even at their tender age!! They were just one of the boys...dreamily falling under the spell that would hold them captive for life. Right on schedule.....
I sang along with the beachboys...wishing they all could be California girls..(Miss Songer looked like a California Girl.....)
Oh well, some things you need to help with, but others just come naturally!
Monday, June 19, 2006
Is it Dr. Jekyl, or Mr.Hyde??
Once again I've used my Blog pals, like my own Da Vinci code, to lead me to clues, to find answers....This one was lifted off Jennifers blog. It says it came from psycho therapy. GOOD, cause today I need therapy...SOME REALLY FRIGGIN BRILLIANT THERAPY.....so here goes...Thanks Jen...
PS you don't know how my fingers hoovered over the delete button, after I read this...Boy, do I sound manic or what...Oh, that right ...It's Monday...Just another Manic Monday....so everythings as it should be...no worries.....
- Voice :: Angry, crazy, desperate
- Us :: tethered, locked, straining
- Passionately :: urgent,fleeting, hunger
- Humbly :: whisper,eyes down, honest
- Love songs :: cheesy, too predictable, outgrown
- Dim :: sleepy, beyond grasp, intentions, menacing
- Calendar :: slipping, knocking, great expectation, a mirge in the dessert
- Careless :: words,papers,lost items,head in the clouds
- Block :: defense,shut down,close the door and hide the key
- Goal :: dangle a carrot in front of a starving horse, and he'll run off a cliff, choose wisely.
PS you don't know how my fingers hoovered over the delete button, after I read this...Boy, do I sound manic or what...Oh, that right ...It's Monday...Just another Manic Monday....so everythings as it should be...no worries.....
Sunday, June 18, 2006
After All These Years
Today was a tough day. Any days like these, mother's Day, Fathers Day, Birthdays are tough for me. If I was a dog, I'd never get many treats, as performing on command, doesn't come naturally to me.
I haven't talked to my dad in over a decade, and before that, easily five years would go by...nothing said. This is not going to be a post about how I missed or mourn for him....An odd thought came to me today, before all hell broke loose. This was the thought....I know what I've missed not having him in my life....but was has he squandered by misplacing me, and losing me? What I wonder, could I have taught him...and for that matter, all other hims that didn't stick around...So this quick note is for my father Richard...and all the other dicks I may have known,
Dear Sir,
What could a girl like me teach a guy like you? (I remember understanding the pull you had on my mother. You were (are??) an epic man.) I could have taught you that staying and facing up, is the bravest thing a person can do. I could have taught you that not saying goodbye is rude. I could have taught you that surrender does take strength, and that silence is cruel. I could have taught you that life holds surprises, good ones, as well as bad. I could have shown you I was worthy of your attention, and recognition. I could have taught you to be proud of the subtle, instead of boastful of the obvious. Sometimes the things passed on, to be proud of, Your legacy, are buried deep within...I might have taught you how to see, without looking, and how to love without wanting. You might have known me,,,and feeling I was known to you, would have made a world of difference.
With or without you, I exist....and have become fierce in my own right, on my own terms...despite your lack of care, I've bloomed...and will continue to bloom...if only for my own pleasure.
Thank you for listening,
Your youngest,
Wendy
The really hard part of today, is that I'm pretty sure I can expect to a letter similar in content, to the one above, from one of my daughters, someday. I've been here everyday of their lives, but I still will disappoint. I still have bruised them when I was weak. I am as human and flawed as my parents are.
Today was a day I struggled to stand, and spent a good deal of time on my knees, trying to get up. Today was a day a girl could use a father's stready hand to hold.
I haven't talked to my dad in over a decade, and before that, easily five years would go by...nothing said. This is not going to be a post about how I missed or mourn for him....An odd thought came to me today, before all hell broke loose. This was the thought....I know what I've missed not having him in my life....but was has he squandered by misplacing me, and losing me? What I wonder, could I have taught him...and for that matter, all other hims that didn't stick around...So this quick note is for my father Richard...and all the other dicks I may have known,
Dear Sir,
What could a girl like me teach a guy like you? (I remember understanding the pull you had on my mother. You were (are??) an epic man.) I could have taught you that staying and facing up, is the bravest thing a person can do. I could have taught you that not saying goodbye is rude. I could have taught you that surrender does take strength, and that silence is cruel. I could have taught you that life holds surprises, good ones, as well as bad. I could have shown you I was worthy of your attention, and recognition. I could have taught you to be proud of the subtle, instead of boastful of the obvious. Sometimes the things passed on, to be proud of, Your legacy, are buried deep within...I might have taught you how to see, without looking, and how to love without wanting. You might have known me,,,and feeling I was known to you, would have made a world of difference.
With or without you, I exist....and have become fierce in my own right, on my own terms...despite your lack of care, I've bloomed...and will continue to bloom...if only for my own pleasure.
Thank you for listening,
Your youngest,
Wendy
The really hard part of today, is that I'm pretty sure I can expect to a letter similar in content, to the one above, from one of my daughters, someday. I've been here everyday of their lives, but I still will disappoint. I still have bruised them when I was weak. I am as human and flawed as my parents are.
Today was a day I struggled to stand, and spent a good deal of time on my knees, trying to get up. Today was a day a girl could use a father's stready hand to hold.
Friday, June 16, 2006
Back on the Bus
Since I have yet to learn to make those tidy little techno links (as demonstrated in this weeks Poetry Thursday offering), I decided I'd show my linking skills, the only way I know how...and NO, not the Christmas time, construction paper,primary color,around your child's Christmas tree links, no,...LET's MAKE A LITERAL CONTENT LINK INSTEAD...ok, enough sarcasm, on with the show, Watch me now......My muse offered me two random images this week...and I can link them!
I went to bed, and woke up again, to find Bill Gates on the front pic of my homepage. He's the first part of the link....and that ON THE BUS entry is the second.
But as with anything, a little background is needed...
My husband has 4 sister's. All older. Michael is the baby, and I, the token sister in law...lots of interesting stuff here...Anyway, All my sister in laws are married to various techno types, Be in hardware or BioTech...or....SOFTWARE...now we're getting closer!
One of my Brother in laws, works for Microsoft....and is High up on the food chain. Lets put it this way..."Microsoft Been Berry Berry Good to" him..and me. This branch of the family tree has produced much fruit...fruit,fruit everywhere....as far as the eye can see...but back to the me part....Family D'2 (that's their new CODE NAME)is very generous with all of us. The whole lot of us, yes, all the branches, have traveled together, to many an exotic place. I've had the pleasure of renting a castle in Scotland, and swimming with Manta Rays in Grand Cayman...because of them. They are really cool people...and money has little to do with it.
My brother in law, Papa D'2, reminds me a lot of my husband, in work ethic, alone. I have spent almost 2 decades watching him age gracefully into his paradise. When he was younger, I hardly ever knew he was on family vacations with us..(this was pre Micro soft). He was tethered to his laptop..always on a conference call...Holed up in a back bedroom somewhere. He had little to say that interested me, all business, all the time.(This is the resemblance to my hubby, though Hubby holds my interest, for other reasons)
But through the years, this has changed. Not that we are bosom buds...but He and D are Godparents to our second child..(again, this was done Pre Microsoft...I'm not that kind of mom...) He and I have actually had a few conversations...about DIFFERENT topics...This is the link part..
About a year ago..give or take...Papa D'2 and I had a conversation on the patio of his house..and I use this as a VERY UNDERSTATED TERM, in Washington State. This is the HOUSE that Microsoft built...anyway, that's where we were, when I happened to mention that I saw Bill,(yes, Pap D's on a first name basis with Bill) on TV. I know, he's on TV a bit...but I don't ever watch him... but this time he was on PBS...Talking only about world health issues. So I mentioned it..and Papa D'2 looked at me in this amused way, as if to say, "Yes,Wendy, and this is AIR we are breathing...". He let me finish, instead. I went on to say, that I had been really impressed by Bill, by how smart he was, how he really knew his stuff.
At this point, I think I could have knocked Papa D'2 over with a feather. THIS WAS BILL GATES, I was talking about...and I had just NOW been impressed????? But truth is, that yes, just THEN, hearing him talk about health and poverty, I had been impressed, FINALLY. My last comment to PappaD'2 ..was... that Bill seemed to be ON THE BUS! Pappa D'2 didn't bother to ask what I meant, he just turned a grinning eye toward the sunset over the great pacific northwest,his northwest,his HOME that Microsoft built...and wondered I'm sure, what PLANET I'm from.....
I turned also, to look at that very same sunset... and thought..."It's like I always knew...you're either ON THE BUS..or your not". We sat in silence...both grinning about different things...See, Pappa D'2 was, at that very moment, finally, ON THE BUS,...and he didn't even know it!!
PS: if you don't know what ON THE BUS means..scroll down to find the entry by that same name...I don't know how to link...but I've told you that already!
I went to bed, and woke up again, to find Bill Gates on the front pic of my homepage. He's the first part of the link....and that ON THE BUS entry is the second.
But as with anything, a little background is needed...
My husband has 4 sister's. All older. Michael is the baby, and I, the token sister in law...lots of interesting stuff here...Anyway, All my sister in laws are married to various techno types, Be in hardware or BioTech...or....SOFTWARE...now we're getting closer!
One of my Brother in laws, works for Microsoft....and is High up on the food chain. Lets put it this way..."Microsoft Been Berry Berry Good to" him..and me. This branch of the family tree has produced much fruit...fruit,fruit everywhere....as far as the eye can see...but back to the me part....Family D'2 (that's their new CODE NAME)is very generous with all of us. The whole lot of us, yes, all the branches, have traveled together, to many an exotic place. I've had the pleasure of renting a castle in Scotland, and swimming with Manta Rays in Grand Cayman...because of them. They are really cool people...and money has little to do with it.
My brother in law, Papa D'2, reminds me a lot of my husband, in work ethic, alone. I have spent almost 2 decades watching him age gracefully into his paradise. When he was younger, I hardly ever knew he was on family vacations with us..(this was pre Micro soft). He was tethered to his laptop..always on a conference call...Holed up in a back bedroom somewhere. He had little to say that interested me, all business, all the time.(This is the resemblance to my hubby, though Hubby holds my interest, for other reasons)
But through the years, this has changed. Not that we are bosom buds...but He and D are Godparents to our second child..(again, this was done Pre Microsoft...I'm not that kind of mom...) He and I have actually had a few conversations...about DIFFERENT topics...This is the link part..
About a year ago..give or take...Papa D'2 and I had a conversation on the patio of his house..and I use this as a VERY UNDERSTATED TERM, in Washington State. This is the HOUSE that Microsoft built...anyway, that's where we were, when I happened to mention that I saw Bill,(yes, Pap D's on a first name basis with Bill) on TV. I know, he's on TV a bit...but I don't ever watch him... but this time he was on PBS...Talking only about world health issues. So I mentioned it..and Papa D'2 looked at me in this amused way, as if to say, "Yes,Wendy, and this is AIR we are breathing...". He let me finish, instead. I went on to say, that I had been really impressed by Bill, by how smart he was, how he really knew his stuff.
At this point, I think I could have knocked Papa D'2 over with a feather. THIS WAS BILL GATES, I was talking about...and I had just NOW been impressed????? But truth is, that yes, just THEN, hearing him talk about health and poverty, I had been impressed, FINALLY. My last comment to PappaD'2 ..was... that Bill seemed to be ON THE BUS! Pappa D'2 didn't bother to ask what I meant, he just turned a grinning eye toward the sunset over the great pacific northwest,his northwest,his HOME that Microsoft built...and wondered I'm sure, what PLANET I'm from.....
I turned also, to look at that very same sunset... and thought..."It's like I always knew...you're either ON THE BUS..or your not". We sat in silence...both grinning about different things...See, Pappa D'2 was, at that very moment, finally, ON THE BUS,...and he didn't even know it!!
PS: if you don't know what ON THE BUS means..scroll down to find the entry by that same name...I don't know how to link...but I've told you that already!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Poetry Thursday
Please find my CURRENT offering below....on the 13th, where it does not belong...For once I worked on it a little early.....and now can't post it today!!! I also can't link my poem correctly, either. So I guess its an F for Technology..hope I get a better grade for content....well, anyway, look for Beautiful, In Disguise.
Now where did I put my car keys and the children...think Wendy, THINK!
Now where did I put my car keys and the children...think Wendy, THINK!
Labels: Poetry Thursday
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
On The Bus
I love words and phrases, almost as much as I like gestures and glances. I spend alot of time, just observing the ritual dances of everyday life. The small things, people have done so often, they no longer remember why they ever did,in the first place.
This goes for expressions. Ask any one of my kids..my own, or borrowed, I am filled with verbal tid bits, I've gathered over time. Like someone said once, I love a well turned phrase. Doesn't have to be deep or potent, just strike the right cord.
Today I had the chance to see some of these oddities passed on to a new generation...Rachel, came to work with me today, and helped me with my kids...during one reading session, one of the girls said to me, "Now listen here Missy...." Rachel stopped to laughed out loud, adding "My mom says that ALL THE TIME" the first grader said "I know...all the time!" Rachel also had the pleasure of hearing other MOMisms repeated back to her,through the day...such as "Quick like a bunny," "Mr.Man" and the ever popular "silly goose"...to which one of my autistic kids say, every time..."I'm not a goose, I'm a boy." this will become locked in my vault of memories...
and that's what these phrases become to me...memories, that I relive every day..
I drove Maggie to get some dance stuff, for her recital tonight. We're always in a hurry...and I'm always speeding...as I ran through a yellow...(yes yellow I swear!!) light..both of us reached up and grazed the ceiling of my car with our fingers. Something I've done since....before I drove myself. I've passed it to her now, and it as normal to her as tying her shoes....
Some of my phrases are odder and have people trying to figure out what the heck?? Such as ISHH KA BIBBLe (kinda yucky, or harem scarem) picked up from a sister in law...or the word CHONIES (I think from cachones...means panties in spanish.) picked up from Rachels god mother.
Probably some of the oddest and least linear, came from an old boyfriend of long ago. He would say things like MEE POCKEE (for my pocket)in a very bad cockney accent..which I still can hear today. But he left me with one phrase I've used time and time again...always getting blank stares back until I explain.
This much loved phrase is "On the bus". This means, like minded, cool, in the know, copacetic...kinda on the MAGIC BUS..from the Who. This phrase came from a time when I knew him, while he was attending a VERY LIBERAL college on the West Coast. People were either on the bus....or not. He may have started it, or just repeated it, but many are the times, I have used this expression to convey admiration and understanding.
My kindergarten teacher(one I work with), is a very on the bus kinda gal...she must only be 25, this is her first year of teaching. Her boyfriend is a snowboard instructor.. so you get the drift...she's cool and young and well, ON THE BUS!
I made the mistake of using this expression to her, in a very noisy kinder class room... and her response was.. "OH NO!! H (autistic boy) missed his BUS??? (the special ed bus)" No,no,no I said explaining what I had meant...a compliment to her... We were laughing as I walked to H out to his bus, holdin his hand in mine....She and I were laughing pretty hard... NO no, not THAT BUS!!!
H called to me as he boarded his ride home that day..."Hey, Miss Wendy... I'm on the bus!!! HUH!" I called back "H, my Friend, YOU SURE ARE!!"
This goes for expressions. Ask any one of my kids..my own, or borrowed, I am filled with verbal tid bits, I've gathered over time. Like someone said once, I love a well turned phrase. Doesn't have to be deep or potent, just strike the right cord.
Today I had the chance to see some of these oddities passed on to a new generation...Rachel, came to work with me today, and helped me with my kids...during one reading session, one of the girls said to me, "Now listen here Missy...." Rachel stopped to laughed out loud, adding "My mom says that ALL THE TIME" the first grader said "I know...all the time!" Rachel also had the pleasure of hearing other MOMisms repeated back to her,through the day...such as "Quick like a bunny," "Mr.Man" and the ever popular "silly goose"...to which one of my autistic kids say, every time..."I'm not a goose, I'm a boy." this will become locked in my vault of memories...
and that's what these phrases become to me...memories, that I relive every day..
I drove Maggie to get some dance stuff, for her recital tonight. We're always in a hurry...and I'm always speeding...as I ran through a yellow...(yes yellow I swear!!) light..both of us reached up and grazed the ceiling of my car with our fingers. Something I've done since....before I drove myself. I've passed it to her now, and it as normal to her as tying her shoes....
Some of my phrases are odder and have people trying to figure out what the heck?? Such as ISHH KA BIBBLe (kinda yucky, or harem scarem) picked up from a sister in law...or the word CHONIES (I think from cachones...means panties in spanish.) picked up from Rachels god mother.
Probably some of the oddest and least linear, came from an old boyfriend of long ago. He would say things like MEE POCKEE (for my pocket)in a very bad cockney accent..which I still can hear today. But he left me with one phrase I've used time and time again...always getting blank stares back until I explain.
This much loved phrase is "On the bus". This means, like minded, cool, in the know, copacetic...kinda on the MAGIC BUS..from the Who. This phrase came from a time when I knew him, while he was attending a VERY LIBERAL college on the West Coast. People were either on the bus....or not. He may have started it, or just repeated it, but many are the times, I have used this expression to convey admiration and understanding.
My kindergarten teacher(one I work with), is a very on the bus kinda gal...she must only be 25, this is her first year of teaching. Her boyfriend is a snowboard instructor.. so you get the drift...she's cool and young and well, ON THE BUS!
I made the mistake of using this expression to her, in a very noisy kinder class room... and her response was.. "OH NO!! H (autistic boy) missed his BUS??? (the special ed bus)" No,no,no I said explaining what I had meant...a compliment to her... We were laughing as I walked to H out to his bus, holdin his hand in mine....She and I were laughing pretty hard... NO no, not THAT BUS!!!
H called to me as he boarded his ride home that day..."Hey, Miss Wendy... I'm on the bus!!! HUH!" I called back "H, my Friend, YOU SURE ARE!!"
A Quickie
A quick thought...as I'm supposed to be at work in a half an hour...and here I sit, overslept, in nightie, with coffee and the muse instead. Ah, he's an unfair mistress!! Rachel, as I mentioned, is a rockin writer and poet, at 16. Yet she is totally unaware that I write anything of meaning...cept, checks and notes to excuse her from PE. When both my girls found out I had a blog...they laughed hysterically. After all, WHAT would I talk about.
Instead of being put out by this, I decided to take it as a backhanded compliment.(like a slap and a kiss) I think I've done my job well so far, as they see me as their little momma sita!! Thats what I needed to be for this first part of their lives.
(Just wait till they get to chapter 12 part two, and find a drastic plot twist.)
But back to the quick thought. I'm glad Rach never knew I'm a poet too..or have thoughts OTHER THAN...in my head...I'm glad she found this talent trailblazing on her own...not following my path, trying to keep up......or probably more true to form, trying to find me when I get lost in the weeds!
Instead of being put out by this, I decided to take it as a backhanded compliment.(like a slap and a kiss) I think I've done my job well so far, as they see me as their little momma sita!! Thats what I needed to be for this first part of their lives.
(Just wait till they get to chapter 12 part two, and find a drastic plot twist.)
But back to the quick thought. I'm glad Rach never knew I'm a poet too..or have thoughts OTHER THAN...in my head...I'm glad she found this talent trailblazing on her own...not following my path, trying to keep up......or probably more true to form, trying to find me when I get lost in the weeds!
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Poetry Thursday
Happy Poetry Thursday, to one and all
Beautiful, In Disguise
How would I talk to you,
if I was other than
who I am?
Not so odd or not so
strange, how would it
all begin?
How would things flow,
if I was beautiful,
instead of rather plain?
Would you glance between
my legs, no thought
tied to my train?
How would I form sly
words that spoke to you, if
I stood beyond your reach?
Would my eyes unravel you,
unbalance you, like waves
knocked on some beach?
How would it be if
I was beautiful, never
once down my knees?
If could take your breath
and hold it there, as mine
-for me to tease.
How would it feel if
I could catch you once
(and only by surprise)?
I'd whisper softly, as I
kissed your ear,"Make me
beautiful,in disguise"
wlf 7:48 am
Beautiful, In Disguise
How would I talk to you,
if I was other than
who I am?
Not so odd or not so
strange, how would it
all begin?
How would things flow,
if I was beautiful,
instead of rather plain?
Would you glance between
my legs, no thought
tied to my train?
How would I form sly
words that spoke to you, if
I stood beyond your reach?
Would my eyes unravel you,
unbalance you, like waves
knocked on some beach?
How would it be if
I was beautiful, never
once down my knees?
If could take your breath
and hold it there, as mine
-for me to tease.
How would it feel if
I could catch you once
(and only by surprise)?
I'd whisper softly, as I
kissed your ear,"Make me
beautiful,in disguise"
wlf 7:48 am
Labels: Poetry Thursday
Monday, June 12, 2006
Writer, Heal thyself!
I woke up this morning....crotchity. Yesterday, I spent way to much time on this computer. i'm trying to gather more understanding...about alot of things.....one of them being Autism. I work with a couple of kids with mild symptoms. Autism is known as a "spectrum" disorder....as I guess you could say CP is. All this poking around in the world of disability, has felt sort of like trying to pick off a scab....WAY before it's ready...
My ventures into autism, have been confusing. There's lots of contradiction in the science as well as the community itself, on protocols, education standards, and rights. I feel like a dog chasing my tail...and I'm just on the sidelines of this one, trying to understand. How must this feel to be in the family..the parent or sibling of an autistic person. They can't turn off their computers, when there minds start swimming upstream...and call it a day. A day if FRIGGIN nothing! This is their LIFE.
and then I found Ballastexistenz. This is a site written by an autistic woman, herself. She is non verbal, and probably what society considers severely disabled. Yet after an hour on her site...I went to Amazon and ordered a book, on her recomendation. I know that "normal" society, doesn't have much of a taste for understanding disability, but her site is really worth seeing..and reading. The theme I guess, is the RIGHT TO BE. just as she is...no apologies..no attemps to FIX or make palatable.. The name of her website is based on a german phrase... an unneeded weight.. that nazi's and prenazi's used to justify their eugenic efforts.
As I explained to my husband,(him backing away,I had that look it my eye!!)..."i wouldn't be here..If I was born in Nazi land. Sure I'm arian enough, but I'm DEFECTIVE...so is your sister..her son...and GOD KNOWS who else we know..."
To calm me down..he reminded me that I am here, and that we live in a much different times. I dared him to go read the above mentioned site..and come back to me to tell me if he still thought times were THAT different. He declined, and went to mow our lawn.
I thought of my school kids, all their faces, and all their goofy smiles, and tried to muster the courage to face them today. If I was really brave, and really as honest as I see my self, This would be the first thing we would talk about this morning...before math facts, or phonics. We'd talk about this world they and I were born into....and It's real need to heal.
My ventures into autism, have been confusing. There's lots of contradiction in the science as well as the community itself, on protocols, education standards, and rights. I feel like a dog chasing my tail...and I'm just on the sidelines of this one, trying to understand. How must this feel to be in the family..the parent or sibling of an autistic person. They can't turn off their computers, when there minds start swimming upstream...and call it a day. A day if FRIGGIN nothing! This is their LIFE.
and then I found Ballastexistenz. This is a site written by an autistic woman, herself. She is non verbal, and probably what society considers severely disabled. Yet after an hour on her site...I went to Amazon and ordered a book, on her recomendation. I know that "normal" society, doesn't have much of a taste for understanding disability, but her site is really worth seeing..and reading. The theme I guess, is the RIGHT TO BE. just as she is...no apologies..no attemps to FIX or make palatable.. The name of her website is based on a german phrase... an unneeded weight.. that nazi's and prenazi's used to justify their eugenic efforts.
As I explained to my husband,(him backing away,I had that look it my eye!!)..."i wouldn't be here..If I was born in Nazi land. Sure I'm arian enough, but I'm DEFECTIVE...so is your sister..her son...and GOD KNOWS who else we know..."
To calm me down..he reminded me that I am here, and that we live in a much different times. I dared him to go read the above mentioned site..and come back to me to tell me if he still thought times were THAT different. He declined, and went to mow our lawn.
I thought of my school kids, all their faces, and all their goofy smiles, and tried to muster the courage to face them today. If I was really brave, and really as honest as I see my self, This would be the first thing we would talk about this morning...before math facts, or phonics. We'd talk about this world they and I were born into....and It's real need to heal.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
The Moment of Truth...Or Married Part Two
So I'm back.....please pardon the interruption. In re-reading my earlier post, I found that I could be a tad more honest.I did get up to give my husband a treat, and he is quite pleased with me at the moment. But the truth is that, really, at the moment of ignition...fight or no fight, It could have gone either way. I don't want it to seem like all our moments of confrontation, end in marital bliss. AU CONTRAIR, mon frair! We fight as often as we laugh. Some are light little Banter fights, some end with me thowing something at him....remember that crazy gene???
Sometimes I think of paths not taken, of books not written, and days wasted on not liking him very much. I'm sure he has those days too. But even on days that he doesn't make me happy, he somehow still lets me be happy on my own. Thats why he walked away...(and I followed him..) this morning. He saw me pecking away at this computer, writing to the thin air... and he knew I was happy as a clam. So he let me be... and when he gives me room to let my imangination run wild, I become oh so clever at helping him...be happy..just like me.
Sometimes I think of paths not taken, of books not written, and days wasted on not liking him very much. I'm sure he has those days too. But even on days that he doesn't make me happy, he somehow still lets me be happy on my own. Thats why he walked away...(and I followed him..) this morning. He saw me pecking away at this computer, writing to the thin air... and he knew I was happy as a clam. So he let me be... and when he gives me room to let my imangination run wild, I become oh so clever at helping him...be happy..just like me.
A Moment of Married
My husband just brought me a hairball from our vacuum, caught in some place in its mechanical intestines...I swear he's like a pet cat, offering me a dead bird as a love token... truth be told, though, he's more ticked at the moment than in love with little old me.
"Didn't you notice it wasn't picking up anything...when YOU VACUUM!!!" he says in that..who's youre daddy, boy are you busted, way he has..."Huh.."I respond, opening the door a bit wider for the fight to come in...."Vacuuming....now THERES a concept...I'll have to give it a try..someday..."...and then instead of responding...he walks away, smiling, and glancing back at me as I peck on the computer.
A few minutes later(he is a mechanical engineer, afterall) I hear that vacuum sucking up a storm in the kitchen. I smile as I type. I sure do love that man!and he sure does love...a clean floor! Excuse me while I go give him a treat!
"Didn't you notice it wasn't picking up anything...when YOU VACUUM!!!" he says in that..who's youre daddy, boy are you busted, way he has..."Huh.."I respond, opening the door a bit wider for the fight to come in...."Vacuuming....now THERES a concept...I'll have to give it a try..someday..."...and then instead of responding...he walks away, smiling, and glancing back at me as I peck on the computer.
A few minutes later(he is a mechanical engineer, afterall) I hear that vacuum sucking up a storm in the kitchen. I smile as I type. I sure do love that man!and he sure does love...a clean floor! Excuse me while I go give him a treat!
Friday, June 09, 2006
Instead..
Instead of doing, what I should be doing...(DON"T WANT TO!!..cant make me???!!)I've spent the morning reading POETRY..how lucky am I....LOTS of amazing talent..Came across this MEME (don't have a clue what that means)...but I got it from Susannah, who got it from Deirdra, who got it from Cate. No not an STD, or worse, strep throat...no, Its this:
The A B C's of me....here goes
accent: American, slightly southern CA,dude. No really someone once told me I spoke like Dianne Chambers from Cheers. I took it as a compliment...I don't think it was..oh...and I have a constant cold, so plug your nose, and I sound like that.
booze: I don't drink....used to...vodka, mostly. Have thrown up often, most mememorably from Tequilla on railroad tracks....DEVIL thy name is Cuervo..a Frat boy spared me from EVERCLEAR once, at a toga party...maybe he thought if he was a nice guy..he'd "GET SOME"..cant remember, but pretty sure, he didn't.
Chore I hate: ALL HOUSEWORK. for being such a tree hugging liberal, I must confess I could easily thrive with live in help...If you know someone..could you send her..now..right away..there are dishes in MY SINK.....
Dogs/Cats:: 4 dogs, no cats, 2 horses.
Essential Electronics : the dirty minded little wench in me blushed at this one...no really....I love TV, CD's, DVD's and the computer... Could chuck my phone in a river, and never miss it.
Favorite Perfume: clean...as it showered...My trainer said...HUM, you smell good...what is it? I said, I took a bath.
Gold/Silver: as a girl, gold, a little older, silver, and now, my wedding band is platinum.
Hometown: On the poorer side of Pasadena CA, now FAR FAR AWAY.
Insomnia:Sleep and I have such a love hate relationship, I've even written about it. And thoughts morphed into dreams that haunt my head til I scream...Out damm SPOT!!
Job Title: such a loaded question....hum....I'll go with Person of Interest.
Kids: 2 Daughters..read achives for so many details, you'll need a filing system
living Arrangements: with hubby, and kids....getting closeer to an empty nest.....
most admired trait:the ability to laugh at myself when I trip...my trainer once said that I get up after a fall(from my horse) faster than anyone she has ever taught.
number of sex partners: Most of the ones I wanted....Same one now for a very long time....still have nice memories of a few past ones..mostly though, all was fumbles back then....the thought of being with any one new, should something happen to hubby....makes me so terrified, I could pee.
overnight hospital stays: quite a few. Much worse when It's not you in the bed.
Phobias: talking on the phone to people I don't know well ( i used to stutter a bit)
quotes: Tons of them...and Always GIVE CREDIT....this is a MORALITY point for me....Hate when people don't reveal that it isnt their thought...there just passing it along...erks me to my bones.....
Religion: always searching asking thanking and praying...make your whole life a prayer...is one of the most beautiful quotes I've ever heard..I didn't say it first..just passing it along.
Siblings: 1 sister...next question....
Time I usually wake up:12:00 am, 2:00am 3:00am............
Unusual talent Uncanny ability to recognize celeb voices in cartoons and ads...thank ya, thank ya very much.....
Veggies I refuse to Eat: not big on Eggplant, color or Veggie
Worst Habit: Looking down, procrastination, bad spelling
X rays: well, aren't WE dating ourselves...so, yes, some xrays, some ultra sounds, and A few CT scans...no MRI's
Yummy food I make: killer pasta, good with asian,and some Pretty good German food, if I do say so myself....
and finally
Zodiac Sign: Libra...and i am pretty typical of that sign..although, If I'm so balanced, why do I keep tripping? huh......
The A B C's of me....here goes
accent: American, slightly southern CA,dude. No really someone once told me I spoke like Dianne Chambers from Cheers. I took it as a compliment...I don't think it was..oh...and I have a constant cold, so plug your nose, and I sound like that.
booze: I don't drink....used to...vodka, mostly. Have thrown up often, most mememorably from Tequilla on railroad tracks....DEVIL thy name is Cuervo..a Frat boy spared me from EVERCLEAR once, at a toga party...maybe he thought if he was a nice guy..he'd "GET SOME"..cant remember, but pretty sure, he didn't.
Chore I hate: ALL HOUSEWORK. for being such a tree hugging liberal, I must confess I could easily thrive with live in help...If you know someone..could you send her..now..right away..there are dishes in MY SINK.....
Dogs/Cats:: 4 dogs, no cats, 2 horses.
Essential Electronics : the dirty minded little wench in me blushed at this one...no really....I love TV, CD's, DVD's and the computer... Could chuck my phone in a river, and never miss it.
Favorite Perfume: clean...as it showered...My trainer said...HUM, you smell good...what is it? I said, I took a bath.
Gold/Silver: as a girl, gold, a little older, silver, and now, my wedding band is platinum.
Hometown: On the poorer side of Pasadena CA, now FAR FAR AWAY.
Insomnia:Sleep and I have such a love hate relationship, I've even written about it. And thoughts morphed into dreams that haunt my head til I scream...Out damm SPOT!!
Job Title: such a loaded question....hum....I'll go with Person of Interest.
Kids: 2 Daughters..read achives for so many details, you'll need a filing system
living Arrangements: with hubby, and kids....getting closeer to an empty nest.....
most admired trait:the ability to laugh at myself when I trip...my trainer once said that I get up after a fall(from my horse) faster than anyone she has ever taught.
number of sex partners: Most of the ones I wanted....Same one now for a very long time....still have nice memories of a few past ones..mostly though, all was fumbles back then....the thought of being with any one new, should something happen to hubby....makes me so terrified, I could pee.
overnight hospital stays: quite a few. Much worse when It's not you in the bed.
Phobias: talking on the phone to people I don't know well ( i used to stutter a bit)
quotes: Tons of them...and Always GIVE CREDIT....this is a MORALITY point for me....Hate when people don't reveal that it isnt their thought...there just passing it along...erks me to my bones.....
Religion: always searching asking thanking and praying...make your whole life a prayer...is one of the most beautiful quotes I've ever heard..I didn't say it first..just passing it along.
Siblings: 1 sister...next question....
Time I usually wake up:12:00 am, 2:00am 3:00am............
Unusual talent Uncanny ability to recognize celeb voices in cartoons and ads...thank ya, thank ya very much.....
Veggies I refuse to Eat: not big on Eggplant, color or Veggie
Worst Habit: Looking down, procrastination, bad spelling
X rays: well, aren't WE dating ourselves...so, yes, some xrays, some ultra sounds, and A few CT scans...no MRI's
Yummy food I make: killer pasta, good with asian,and some Pretty good German food, if I do say so myself....
and finally
Zodiac Sign: Libra...and i am pretty typical of that sign..although, If I'm so balanced, why do I keep tripping? huh......
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Poetry Thursday
Overheard
In line at
Starbucks
In front of me
two women
at least twice
my age (An
exponentially
large number)
These are
lucky lindy
ladies.
made of Howard
Hughes cherry red
lips, poised
on the high heeled,
swing skirted
fish netted
pin up gams
of the past
now greyed and well,
lived into an era that
could only have
been sci fi
when they were young.
"Hit me with
a double
shot
no fat...
ahh what the heck,
all the fat
irish cream
latte..
with extra
whipped cream!"
gone are the fears
of loose lips
and sunken ships
gone the sugar ration
happy days
are here again..
bring on the
mocha
and make mine
a Venti!!!!
wlf 3:40 this afternoon
In line at
Starbucks
In front of me
two women
at least twice
my age (An
exponentially
large number)
These are
lucky lindy
ladies.
made of Howard
Hughes cherry red
lips, poised
on the high heeled,
swing skirted
fish netted
pin up gams
of the past
now greyed and well,
lived into an era that
could only have
been sci fi
when they were young.
"Hit me with
a double
shot
no fat...
ahh what the heck,
all the fat
irish cream
latte..
with extra
whipped cream!"
gone are the fears
of loose lips
and sunken ships
gone the sugar ration
happy days
are here again..
bring on the
mocha
and make mine
a Venti!!!!
wlf 3:40 this afternoon
Labels: Poetry Thursday
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Time for a Bath
Today was HOT in our neck of the woods. It's also a day off work, so that means a day at the barn. I rode two horses and was a sweaty mess by noon. Both of these horses tried really hard today. I bathed both of mine ...and it was then I noticed the real difference in personality..between my two characters.
My gelding Roux, worked his ass off for me today. He is a scrappy fella, and likes things fast and hard. He is a little machine. When I was bathing him...it soon became apparent that he was bathing me ...he has a way of playing with me that is much more dog like...than horse like...He loves to step on the hose,so that when I yank in free from underneath him...it gets all over me instead...I swear I see him chuckle..each time. I walked him outside to his pen, with out his sheet, and still pretty wet... and watched him roll himself in the dirt like a proper mud puppy. With mud hanging from his forelock, he came to me at the gate.. for one last scratch on the nose, before he was off to play with the guys... If he could live inside my house, I swear I would let him...I love him that much.
The second bath I gave, was to my mare. Now to be honest, I hadn't actually ridden her today. My friend did, so that I could ride her horse, CASTILLE. He looks just like he sounds...big, Latin....ok, brown..and regal. If my horse Roux were a car, he would be a tricked out mini cooper...Castille would be a Bentley. All class, all the time. Bond, James Bond.....but my friend took him home for his own private bath, so I washed my mare instead.
Callie, is the big grey mare, in my life. She is pretty and she knows it. My friend and I took her to a show recently, and she had people camped out at her stall, fawning all over her. She gets away with everything because she is a charming horse..If she were a car....SHE WOULD NEVER BE A CAR, SHE WOULD HAVE A DRIVER!!!!and sit in the back..It's Breakfast at Tiffany's all the way, baby. She is PLATINUM, honest, with dapples all over, and a white blaze and two white socks.
Washing Callie is like washing a supermodel. She likes being pampered and there are no games about it. She will put her enormous hip out for you to scratch, and hold it there if she hasn't finished with you yet. She likes it slow and easy, much more particular about the temp of the water or the scent of the shampoo..I kid you not. She is big enough, so that I have to use a step stool to really get at her back...and she tends to groan as I give her the Massage... I am telling the honest to God truth. I also give her an all over conditioner..especially her mane and tail...which I "set" for her before rinsing with cool water..She could stand in the wash rack (AKA Wendy's world of Equine Beauty and Health) for HOURS being doted on..
Walking back to her stall, she is careful not to step in any puddles "the help" has made. I only get wet with Cal when she decides to shake on me....with a look back like "oh dear,,did I get you wet....so sorry...now where are those CArrots!??!......"
I drive home, so dirty I dare not stop at the grocery to get food to feed my human family. As I pull in to the garage, ready for my shower...My daughter announces that our St Bernard MAY HAVE had a little encounter with a skunk.
But I'll save that...washing a St Bernard is a whole other kettle of fish...And a whole different bottle of shampoo.
My gelding Roux, worked his ass off for me today. He is a scrappy fella, and likes things fast and hard. He is a little machine. When I was bathing him...it soon became apparent that he was bathing me ...he has a way of playing with me that is much more dog like...than horse like...He loves to step on the hose,so that when I yank in free from underneath him...it gets all over me instead...I swear I see him chuckle..each time. I walked him outside to his pen, with out his sheet, and still pretty wet... and watched him roll himself in the dirt like a proper mud puppy. With mud hanging from his forelock, he came to me at the gate.. for one last scratch on the nose, before he was off to play with the guys... If he could live inside my house, I swear I would let him...I love him that much.
The second bath I gave, was to my mare. Now to be honest, I hadn't actually ridden her today. My friend did, so that I could ride her horse, CASTILLE. He looks just like he sounds...big, Latin....ok, brown..and regal. If my horse Roux were a car, he would be a tricked out mini cooper...Castille would be a Bentley. All class, all the time. Bond, James Bond.....but my friend took him home for his own private bath, so I washed my mare instead.
Callie, is the big grey mare, in my life. She is pretty and she knows it. My friend and I took her to a show recently, and she had people camped out at her stall, fawning all over her. She gets away with everything because she is a charming horse..If she were a car....SHE WOULD NEVER BE A CAR, SHE WOULD HAVE A DRIVER!!!!and sit in the back..It's Breakfast at Tiffany's all the way, baby. She is PLATINUM, honest, with dapples all over, and a white blaze and two white socks.
Washing Callie is like washing a supermodel. She likes being pampered and there are no games about it. She will put her enormous hip out for you to scratch, and hold it there if she hasn't finished with you yet. She likes it slow and easy, much more particular about the temp of the water or the scent of the shampoo..I kid you not. She is big enough, so that I have to use a step stool to really get at her back...and she tends to groan as I give her the Massage... I am telling the honest to God truth. I also give her an all over conditioner..especially her mane and tail...which I "set" for her before rinsing with cool water..She could stand in the wash rack (AKA Wendy's world of Equine Beauty and Health) for HOURS being doted on..
Walking back to her stall, she is careful not to step in any puddles "the help" has made. I only get wet with Cal when she decides to shake on me....with a look back like "oh dear,,did I get you wet....so sorry...now where are those CArrots!??!......"
I drive home, so dirty I dare not stop at the grocery to get food to feed my human family. As I pull in to the garage, ready for my shower...My daughter announces that our St Bernard MAY HAVE had a little encounter with a skunk.
But I'll save that...washing a St Bernard is a whole other kettle of fish...And a whole different bottle of shampoo.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
I'd Like to Thank the Academy
Its scary how I can be lured into caring about silly little things.....like over at http://masthead.blogspot.com/ Magazine Man hinted at the possibility of a contest for the best solution to one of his dilemmas of success...His blog is one of my new found guilty pleasures. I read it all the time...sometimes even comment...but when he mentioned a CONTEST for the best answer...well, I HAD TO comment...and I wanted to be best.....shameful...really...Don't know this guy, won't ever meet him, BUT STILL, I want him to view me as the best, of his motley crew of cyber groupies....oh...how did I get here????.....
The only redeeming reason I can rationalize at the moment, is that he is very amusing, in a laugh out loud way, and that he is someone who I wouldn't mind dropping in and reading a little of me, from time to time...but that's a little weak in the persuasive dept....
Or is it yet another symptom of my ever present and always gnawing need for approval??...If this is the case, some one please put me out of my misery...and give me some kind of award....so I can accept and do my own version of the "They like me...They really, REALLY like me" speech...anyone ...anyone.... PLEASE!!??!!
The only redeeming reason I can rationalize at the moment, is that he is very amusing, in a laugh out loud way, and that he is someone who I wouldn't mind dropping in and reading a little of me, from time to time...but that's a little weak in the persuasive dept....
Or is it yet another symptom of my ever present and always gnawing need for approval??...If this is the case, some one please put me out of my misery...and give me some kind of award....so I can accept and do my own version of the "They like me...They really, REALLY like me" speech...anyone ...anyone.... PLEASE!!??!!
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Poetry Thursday
Song lyrics are great out loud.
Hey little girl,
Is your daddy home?
Did he go away and
Leave you all alone
Bruce Springsteen "I'm on Fire"
With that couplet, Bruce captures the hearts of all the abandoned and disguarded daughters and women...and paints the picture of many an odd love story that follows.
the following poem has audible elements, but, is quiet...just like me.
LAME
Close your eyes
he said
His words hung
icy, in the air
Listen, instead.
Hollow hoofbeats
tapped scrathy gravel
in rythmn, in sync
and then, a slight
hesitant note.
a break in cadence,
missed a beat
he let me hear
where he hurt.
walking back
silent,
I listened to
our broken gaits
i wondered if
he closed his eyes,
could he hear, clearly,
where I hurt?
Nudging my pocket,
his response,
Way too easy.
No need to
close my eyes.
wlf 8:33am
PS....Kinda inspired by yesterdays enrty.
Hey little girl,
Is your daddy home?
Did he go away and
Leave you all alone
Bruce Springsteen "I'm on Fire"
With that couplet, Bruce captures the hearts of all the abandoned and disguarded daughters and women...and paints the picture of many an odd love story that follows.
the following poem has audible elements, but, is quiet...just like me.
LAME
Close your eyes
he said
His words hung
icy, in the air
Listen, instead.
Hollow hoofbeats
tapped scrathy gravel
in rythmn, in sync
and then, a slight
hesitant note.
a break in cadence,
missed a beat
he let me hear
where he hurt.
walking back
silent,
I listened to
our broken gaits
i wondered if
he closed his eyes,
could he hear, clearly,
where I hurt?
Nudging my pocket,
his response,
Way too easy.
No need to
close my eyes.
wlf 8:33am
PS....Kinda inspired by yesterdays enrty.
Labels: Poetry Thursday
