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The sweetness o…

 

 

The sweetness of your kiss,

as we say goodbye

our mouths touch and touch again.

mm we both say as we turn away

and turn back again

for another.

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Great Quotes

“The pain never goes away, you just learn to make room for it.” ~ Andrea on the Walking Dead

This series is great!  Last week there was this one moment when the character Lori is talking to her husband, Rick about the other character Shane and how Rick needs to intervene before Shane does something dangerous and it is so Shakespearean.  I also loved the scene where Daryl is yelling at Carol and it is literally like he is just saying out loud everything she has already said to herself, I absolutely love that.  

I want to write so much more, but I have this filter on right now, I just don’t want any more drama in my life.  I don’t want to write about shit that I have been writing about, I don’t want to get negative feedback from anonymous strangers that just makes my stress level climb I just want to write because it helps me, it helps me to heal from my own pain.  I am tired and for a while I am going to keep the writing light.  Good quote above, struck me as I heard it because it is so true, like a dream where you are living in a house where you lived before but suddenly there are unexpected rooms, and ghosts hiding in them.  That is where the pain lives, you can shut the door, you can put up wards, but it never really leaves you.  

What makes it nice is that you find yourself making relationships with new people and new rooms are added, that help you to forget the ghosts living in those other places inside of you.  This is exactly what is happening the show, new relationships are formed out of the necessity of survival, and people continue on, because they have to.

The room I am looking for, the room I have always wanted, is a cozy warm single room house, with a fire, and a warm thick colorfully draped bed, soup cooking on the fire and the smell of fresh bread in the air.  Preferably without Zombies.  

 

Cooking · Healthy Eating · Music · Recipes

John Brown’s Body

The Westcott Theater is a small local venue for live music.  It has a wide open floor plan a bar on one side in the back, a place to sell shirts and CD’s on the other side of the theater, a sound booth in the middle and a small stage in front.  It was once a movie theater so the floor is at an angle which makes it good for viewing the stage, but not great for standing all night.  Last night the pirate and I went to see the band John Brown’s Body.

John Brown's Body Lead Singer at the Westcott Theater

 

Awesome horn section from the band John Brown's Body

 

 

It was a great show, two other bands played before they did, one of them was called Doc Apple a fun danceable hip hop band from Rochester NY.  The other was a guy called Derrick Hart, after the show ended he was walking around with CD’s and he gave both of us a CD of a compilation of his music and some other folks.  He came on stage all rumpled and looking kind of geeky but then he opened his mouth and he had a great show tunes voice which he proceeded to sing an a capella show tune style song with lots of F…words mixed in in a unique and surprising way.  It was pretty terrific and getting the CD was an added bonus.

A not so lazy Sunday, after being up dancing half the night, I had breakfast with the pirate’s family, cleaned my house, and walked the dog in the brilliant sunshine.  He was so happy, I swear he looked at me and smiled at least twice.  Now as I continue to prepare artwork to send to an unpaid commission, the new clay Jizo sitting on my table by my side, I have a mincemeat pie in the oven and a pot of one of my long time favorite soups on the stove as I listen to the CD given to me by Derrick Hart.

Vegan Lentil Soup

a cup of lentils
and about 6 cups water simmer for 45 minutes on low

meanwhile in a saute pan, caramelize a diced vidalia onion with three cloves of garlic, browning the onion adds loads of extra flavor pour a little water in and get all the browny goodness out of the pan before you add this to the simmering lentils.

chop three carrots and three medium potatoes and add.

Simmer until lentils are tender about another half hour or so.

add a half a bottle of tamari sauce (5oz altogether) and three sprigs of fresh thyme,

or a tsp of dried thyme leaves, or if you don’t have thyme, herbs de provence work too.

freshly ground pepper

add two large handfuls of mushrooms sliced

simmer another half hour

and a medium sized broccoli crown cook until broccoli is soft

cook until the broccoli is tender.

YUM!!

 

Changing Seasons · Climate Change · Flowers · Nature

First Sign of Spring

Aconite the earliest I have ever seen it.
The Old Maple, Adirondacks
Adam turned off the CAT and hopped off, giving me a firm handshake and exclaiming about what a beautiful day it was, but he wished it had snowed another foot. He then drove off grooming the very icy road, with just a couple inches of snow on it. It was bare in some spots. I hate to tell him, but it is getting mighty late in the season for X Country Skiing

 

Above all, do not lose your desire to walk.  Every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness.  I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it.  ~Soren Kierkegaard

Musings · Small Joys · Strong Woman · Treasure

more on mindless platitudes

 

when life hands you lemons, throw them at the person telling you to make lemonade!

you choose your own happiness?  Put big yellow smiley faces all over the outside of, and paint the moon and stars all over the inside of, and fill it with flowers, call it your happiness palace, but it still smells like shit and its still an outhouse.

the very definition of platitude is a trite and meaningless statement

and yet when people are going through the most profound and deep moments of their lives, we want to plaster happy face stickers on their pain, like big yellow bandaids.  Put this on it won’t hurt any more.

am I the only one who craves truth?  am I the only one who thinks being real is more important than smiling in the face of your own heartbreak?

in the face of death?  in the face of pain?

why do we want to tell people, pull yourself up by your boots straps when the problem is that the boots straps just snapped off and you are standing in quicksand, it isn’t always as easy as your little platitude.

glad i went through it, hard for everyone around me but so glad that i trudged along on my own, snotty tear stained and red faced for a whole year.  glad i did, stumbling fumbling trying to remake my life for another year.  glad i did.  and then building brick by brick a new life, glad i did.  i didn’t make lemonade i built the fooking pyramids of egypt.  so take your lemons and make your own damn unsweetened drink.

i tell him, you know, the truth is, that he wasn’t such a bad guy, he was smart, and sometimes he was nice, but the truth is, i was just married to the wrong person, he wasn’t right for me, at all.

he says, because you were dumb, when you married him, you just were not thinking.

yeah i know i say.

he kisses the top of my head as he waters the great big healthy plants behind me, reaching over me.

knowing you makes me realize it, i say, realize what kind of man is right for me.

you are such a dork, he says.

i know i say.

 

you know everything happens for a reason….

just dont forget that shit is still shit.

and sunshine is still sunshine

and the moon, is made of cheese.

 

Musings · Rants · Small Joys · Strong Woman · Treasure

 

“Life does not accommodate you, it shatters you. It is meant to, and it couldn’t do it better. Every seed destroys its container or else there would be no fruition.”  ~Florida Scott-Maxwell.

and how has this life accommodated me? i think, well perhaps in some ways, but perhaps not at all.  i start to tell the pirate  “my heart says one thing but…” and before i can finish my sentence, he says, you can’t trust your heart, its been shattered in a million pieces, it is completely broken.  i open my mouth, i close it again.  how can he understand this when i have never told him?  i think he secretly reads my blog, or maybe that he loves me more than he is letting on, or maybe its just brutally obvious no matter how deep down i push it.  i tell him about the guy i dated once who informed me in a sanctimonious tone that he was so terribly peaceful that should someone ever try to rape me, and he observed it, he would feel hard pressed to intervene, the pirate says, if that happened i would go to jail because i would just shoot the guy, i would kill him.  i look at him, he looks at me, and neither of us say anything.

how has life accommodated me? someone posts a picture of my daughter’s father, as i once knew him, young, thin, smiling hippy.  who is that she asks me, it’s your father, i say.  no it isn’t.  yes it is.  no, it isn’t, yes it is.  the ensuing conversation comes around to, if i knew then what i know now, i wouldn’t change a thing because she is the most precious gift in my life.  it has not been easy.

i sometimes fight with people i care about alot, i have a right to my feelings, and my perceptions, and how i choose to express myself.  but it is not always easy to be a creative person in the social media world.  if i paint a picture and you see what you see, and it isn’t what i intended, should i repaint it?  the perceiver perceives, but does that mean the artist must work the canvas,or the page until it matches the insides and the out of all who read it?  should i just stop speaking?  put my foot in my mouth and turn myself inside out, creating a black hole of myself?  are my feelings and my perceptions so inconsequential that all others should supersede me?  isn’t this just the way our traditional culture wants its women, silent, uncomplaining, respectful and submissive?  are men and our fathers so weak that they cannot stand up to the brunt of a woman’s fierceness?  should we keep our fierceness, our poverty of spirit, our joy, our light, our fears, our tragedies, our trials hidden under a basket, so no one can see it?  does this make someone happy other than ourselves?  because when you hide it under the steel shell, and all it does is echo like a bell, you become shell shocked as the sound hits your brain and it reverberates inside of you.  what did i do?  what did i say?  should i have kept quiet?  i lift that steel casing off me and run naked and gleeful on the battlefield.  i am already shattered, you will not hold me down.

he texts me and tells me maybe we will see each other, he isn’t sure.  i text him back, now frustrated, thinking of my failed marriage. listen if you aren’t absolutely thrilled to spend time with me that is fine with me, call me when you cannot wait to see me.  an hour later, the phone rings.  see, little urchin, what happens when you stand up and throw off that shield and say, take me as i am, even when you don’t like it much or conversely, fuck off.  confidence is my only cloak.  it is brand new.  and it is sumptuous, have no worries, i know my life, it will not accommodate me, hubris is hiding in the shadows and it will surely reach out and trip me.  it always does.  but put me back under that bushel basket?  i think not.  try to blow out my light?  it may waver and sputter, but it won’t go out until god takes me.