Trying 2 Dance


The Dance of Youth

by Pablo Picasso

I’m trying to Dance.

Names changed

I went to see Purple today and he was there. An EX stopped in to clean his window shield but I think he came to see Purple but noticed her new interest and made up something.

I then went too Publix and got needed items, I went for cat food but of course ended up with other items I needed.

Then came home and made Chicken breast fried and cut up , hamburger for Taco’s and they were delicious. I added wasabi to the chicken. Purple came home rushing as always and misplacing things. Her mind is so scattered with HIM on her brain and all the other stuff of everyday.

I checked the mail and the sunny seat for the cats was in my mailbox. It did not fit the window and I had to attach it sideways. The cats still love it.


Minnie on her Sunny window seat.

The rest of the mail I took a quick glance at and figured it was trash mail. Then my sister’s name caught my eye and the contents looked like something I should open. Glad I did. My sweet sister sent me a very nice early monetary check gift for my birthday on the 18 th of November.

I put water on to boil for tea, waited a bit and then placed the tea bags and asked her  to remind me. When Purple was leaving she said “Mom, is something burning”?”

It was the tea. The bags had exploded and made a mess. I knew even if I strained it, the tea would be way past too strong.

Perhaps I am a bit scattered myself ?

I started another pot, round two. I waited till it boiled and set it to the side. The stove was a mess too clean but then again I had all the fixings to clean up and put away in containers as Purple went out the door with hers too go.

Now, I have a request from a young , long time friend. The mother of my Icy Blue. Her tea party is the 2nd, actually her 6 th birthday is the 3rd and I bought the fetti cake and sprinkles for the cupcakes I was going to make for the tea party. It has been changed to the 10 th so I have a few more days. She wants me to burn her a tea party music CD. The search will begin mañana.

I apologized to someone and decided not too ever apologize to some one else. Too much pain and heartache along with a boat load of lies. Then again never say never. They say Smile

For some it is easy to forgive and forget. I suppose they would be the ones who are not imprisoned and whose families have NOT lost practically everything along the way.

News today. All is forgiven…someone must be ecstatic. Wonder how she handles her guilty conscience ? She has never taken any responsibility or paid any dues. Those that choose to save their own ass seem to be favored in our judicial system. Terminology here is plain and simple. Snitch – someone acting as an informer or decoy for the police)

I choose not to vote
I choose not to be on a man-made jury

For the same reason I find myself to be part of a drama that I choose too be involved in. Still after 7-8 years it continues.

All is forgiven, how does that work ?

We have been torn apart in our hearts and cried so much over the vindictiveness in what happened.  Not my place to decide someone’s fate.
I am not the one to do that.

Some things are unforgivable.

But again, I am not the Judge.

I am also not the forgiving sort of person to a blatant liar and untrustworthy being.

and then I read this

Why is it so difficult for us to forgive others? Why do we find it so hard to let go?

Sometimes, even years after a certain incident; sometimes, even after they have apologized; sometimes, when they have hurt you unknowingly and have no idea that you are struggling to forgive them.


Because we are usually under the misconception that we will be doing them a favor by forgiving them.

That in fact, is not the case.

When we forgive someone, we actually do ourselves a huge favor because through forgiveness.

We release all the negative thoughts, emotions and energies that we are so desperately holding in our anger.

Replaying the moment again and again in our mind, torturing ourselves in so many ways.

It hurts us more than them, when we don’t forgive.

We find it hard to forgive because we think we are in the more powerful position when we hold back forgiveness.

Actually we are the weak ones, if that’s the kind of power we rely on to give us strength.

We are also not able to forgive because we take everything so personally.

Not everything another person does is done with a conscious intention of hurting you.

Sometimes they are just trying to protect themselves and that’s the best way they know how to protect themselves.

Haven’t you heard of the saying  ‘The Best Defense is Offense’?

We need to give allowance to others for their insecurities and their imperfections without taking things personally.

So even if you do it for the most selfish of reasons, go ahead and forgive.

First, forgive yourself for holding the grudge for as long as you did.

Then, forgive the other person.

Finally, be proud of yourself.

Author Unknown

On to something else

I don’t know what’s worse~ being expected to do something or being told what to do and how to do it. I believe anything a woman can do a man can do just as well…even if they don’t like the softness of dish pan hands.

Never was about “that’s a woman’s job or Hey, that’s a man’s job”.

I don’t need a man to take the garbage out and get rid of annoying bugs for me, unless of course he turns into one… an annoying better than you bug.


Death of Calm

V alue the time you have with the ones you

l ♥ ve.

So hold your loved ones close today,
and whisper in their ear,
Tell them how much you love them
and that you’ll always hold them dear
Take time to say “I’m sorry
Please forgive me;Thank you ;It’s okay;
And if tomorrow never comes,
you’ll have no regrets about today.


What if it truly doesn’t matter what you do but how you do whatever you do?

How would this change what you choose to do with your life?

What if there is no need to change, no need to try and transform yourself into someone who is more compassionate, more present, more loving or wise?

How would this effect all the places in your life where you are endlessly trying to be better?

What if the question is not why am I so infrequently the person I really want to be, but why do I so infrequently want to be the person I really am?

How would this change what you think you have to learn?

What if you knew that the impulse to move in a way that creates beauty in the world will arise deep within and guide you every time you simply pay attention and wait?

How would this shape your stillness, your movement, your willingness to follow this impulse, to just let go and dance?

Copyright © 2001


Now just get up…jump around to the music and feel soooo good even if you don’t *S*

The world silent
No movement in the high sea
It sounds like a grave’s silence
There is none awake
There is no rapid tempo
Total dead calm

Yet the noble believe
People may show hope
I see through the calm
All towing on the centuries

We realize is easy
Tourists and me
Fill the mountains
This echoes
Echoes in the heads
There is dead calm

Yet the noble believe
People may show hope
Through the flames I see
Now a dark boat wonder into the hope
The morning rain
All its calm ripples in place
And the seagull attacks in
And the seagull breaks into the dead calm

As Ethereal as Ever

Dauðalogn – Sigur Ros

May Day~Baby Boomers-Memories

The Maypole was a tree stripped of its branches or wooden pole decorated with ribbon, streamers, flowers, fruit and/or wreaths. Folks would gather around the pole, which symbolized the end of winter, strength and/or prosperity, and weave the ribbons around the pole as they sang and danced.

All photos found on the WWW.

No credit taken.

May Day was yesterday and I am thinking about the big May celebration I used to go too as a child of Elementary school age. All the schools from near and far gathered at Baker Park. Buses lined the street all numbered so children would be accounted for.We wore our school and name badges proudly.

We danced merrily around the May Pole.It was so big and decorated with beautiful flowers.It was great fun. It reminded me of the swing amusement ride at the County Fair.

I always wore my white daddy shirt. My mama would have it washed,and ironed, she even starched the collar; and it did look just like my daddy’s~ only in petite form. My skirt bellowed out from my Crinoline and had two tiny cluster red cherries dangling here and there as a decoration. I liked how they clicked together when I danced.

Oh My ! This is bringing too many memories. I also had a skirt with poodles on it. The famous poodle skirt. I could hula hoop forever in that skirt.

I won $25.00 and a fake gold hula hoop once. It was second prize.

Spoolies Curlers and Dr. Ben Casey Shirts, Saddle shoes,AMBUSH cologne, what were those monkey-like things that everybody wore around their arms???  Oh and empire dresses, I loved those, made my boobs look larger.

Penny loafers came along with the saddle shoes, had too have a choice 🙂 My dad put a dime in my coin slot. I had too be different.

Everyone wore madris.When it was washed the colors would “bleed” and change the tones of the plaid. Fish net stockings, and those with diamond and other intricate designs. MOHAIR SWEATER!  I had only one, it was a light baby pink and looked great with my gray skirt. I wore it a lot.

“Taps” on heels, the teachers hated them. My saddle shoes always had metal taps. They annoyed everyone it seemed.


The “Junior flip” I never had to do anything special too get the style, my hair naturally flipped on the ends; lucky me.

I was around 14-15 here @ Cynthia Martz
I was around 14-15 here @ Cynthia Martz

Oh and the comfort of Spoolies after wearing those horrid bristly rollers to bed. OUCH! The price we pay to be beautiful 🙂

Babyboomers are the Bomb