My ideas come like dreams a project, an art piece a sculpture My pain rails against movement thoughts trapped in my head pull me down the well A bottomless well Watching the rope slip silently into the darkness I watch with no plan of escape the tether attached to my leg falls with the weight…
Sounds
When sending a 14 year old outside to do chores one should assume that unless you are with them, they will break something. Or, make you break something. He was just supposed to split up the logs. Is it really that hard? Insert wedge hit with maul, repeat, repeat, repeat He yodels the "Zena, Warrior…
Girlie Sits
Like a big girl at the counter eating her cereal. Adamant refusal to sit in her high chair but pulling herself up three feet to sit on a high metal bar chair brought in for me to sit on in the kitchen while making biscuits with a screaming backache The Silent Sentinal noticed that she…
I just heard the flapping
Not of a bird, that would be a bat at this hour but the sound of my greenhouse blowing with these gale force winds off the lake. Shit!
Baby Mimicry
I try not to be mean and I think Girlie understands that I'm trying to push her use of consonants. I had her ask using mimicry, after she finished breakfast this morning: "Mommie- mah-may and- an Daddy- dah-day I'm- Ahm done- Duhn eating- Eaten so- o could- cood you- yu let-leh me-MEEEEEEEE out-OWWWWWWWT of-uff the-thuh…
Bread Crumbs
I was thinking about leaving a written trail of bread crumbs for someone to find. A list of items, memoirs, notes and photographs that explained my actions. Then I remembered, my anonymous blog is a trail of bread crumbs. My crumbs drop behind me as I walk into the leaves the crunch swish of yellow…
Avoidance
Sure, procrastination is part and parcel of the anxiety disorder that many of us struggle with. I write there- fore I do not clean organize or plot my course in life ahead of time. I hide under the covers of a blog soft, fluffy and warm waiting for the call to get me out of…
Is a weed a flower?
The purple asters I picked from my old studio are wildflowers (weeds that get cut down) every year by the fanatic mowers that like acres of grass Not every field should look like a golf course. Without the weeds there would be no place for the bees to harvest unfertilized necter, is it an oxymoron…
These Days
Author's note: It is fall cleaning time again and I found this sitting on my desktop and decided it needed to be completed or filed away for a later date. These days I wake up with my heart pounding. Prednisone, Tylenol with codeine #3, Viibryd, Klonapin (Clonazepam) Adderall (Amphetamine Salts) and I keep seeing things…
And yet
I never write in the evenings, and yet here I am, sitting on the couch wondering what has happened and whether I should get my Happy light out and turn it on. I forgot, it's that time of year when the sunlight reduces and I get SAD. I did go to the second acupuncture visit…
Amanuensis Sobriquet-Reverie 