My dear sweet husband is so generous. He tolerates my silly side, and laughs with me, and not at me. For that I am grateful. He stands by me in my sorrow, and is patient with me in my anger. All that, and a cute butt!
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Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Someone shared this...
One of my friends shared this on Facebook this morning. My back is killing me, because I can never change positions in my bed. My little friend Katie is a bed hog! She shooed the cat off many months ago, and now is attempting to have us all sleep in the closet with him. The "Misery" position is truly the one I relate too, but the "69" cracks up up!
Monday, March 28, 2011
Compassion
Sometimes this blog, for me is a place for sadness, and shadows. Sometimes it is an outlet for my creative side. Sometimes it is a way for me to distract myself from the growing shabbiness I see in the mirror. I imagine there are many reasons to sit here, at this keyboard, and fill my night with words. Tonight I find that I need to write about compassion.
Life can just give you a passionate and forceful slap on the face, when you least expect it. You have to step back and reevaluate your intentions. Tonight such a thing occurred. I was distracting myself from my current child drama, and I unintentionally offended someone. I made a comment on someone's blog that I started following. I don't imagine that they had any idea who was commenting, and took offense at my comment. I will regret that, now, forever.
Harsh...isn't it? That some unintended offense can throw me off so much. It probably isn't the real reason that I am upset, although it feels like it, tonight. I know that the real reason that I am sitting here, writing, is that I can not stop thinking about my son, Nate. He is once again in the hospital. He is trapped in a mind that torments him, and there is nothing I can do to help him. I can not help him, I do not pity him, therefore compassion isn't really the right word for this post.
This is the truth, as I see it. I am using this format to distract myself from feeling sad all the time. I use this outlet to reach out, but not in a way that I want to get anything back. I don't want pity, either. I want strength, and I find strength in examining my ideas, this way. I have always written, even as a small child. You know...Dear Diary, how are you? I am fine, myself. That kind of stuff. I was a young girl, who believed herself to be invincible, once. Now I struggle to keep myself together. I know I have no control, that I am just on the outside, looking in.
Okay, shake it off, Jane. That is the compassionate advise I give to myself, tonight. Get some sleep, and tomorrow you will have the strength to get through what you need to. Take it one crisis at a time, and know that you are not in control. Worry only tires you. It helps nothing...no one. Slow that thinking down, and find something pleasant to dream of. Think of the perfect summers day. Or just take some time to cry, and let it all out, silently, so your sleeping Husband doesn't hear you. You will feel better, I promise.
Life can just give you a passionate and forceful slap on the face, when you least expect it. You have to step back and reevaluate your intentions. Tonight such a thing occurred. I was distracting myself from my current child drama, and I unintentionally offended someone. I made a comment on someone's blog that I started following. I don't imagine that they had any idea who was commenting, and took offense at my comment. I will regret that, now, forever.
Harsh...isn't it? That some unintended offense can throw me off so much. It probably isn't the real reason that I am upset, although it feels like it, tonight. I know that the real reason that I am sitting here, writing, is that I can not stop thinking about my son, Nate. He is once again in the hospital. He is trapped in a mind that torments him, and there is nothing I can do to help him. I can not help him, I do not pity him, therefore compassion isn't really the right word for this post.
This is the truth, as I see it. I am using this format to distract myself from feeling sad all the time. I use this outlet to reach out, but not in a way that I want to get anything back. I don't want pity, either. I want strength, and I find strength in examining my ideas, this way. I have always written, even as a small child. You know...Dear Diary, how are you? I am fine, myself. That kind of stuff. I was a young girl, who believed herself to be invincible, once. Now I struggle to keep myself together. I know I have no control, that I am just on the outside, looking in.
Okay, shake it off, Jane. That is the compassionate advise I give to myself, tonight. Get some sleep, and tomorrow you will have the strength to get through what you need to. Take it one crisis at a time, and know that you are not in control. Worry only tires you. It helps nothing...no one. Slow that thinking down, and find something pleasant to dream of. Think of the perfect summers day. Or just take some time to cry, and let it all out, silently, so your sleeping Husband doesn't hear you. You will feel better, I promise.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Generosity, a journey
Generosity, what a word! It has power. I take it to mean that you have a bounty of something and are willing to share it, in a way that is sacrificing and noble. I define it as charitable, unselfish.
Bloggers are generous people. They share a part of themselves with the universe, with me. I find comfort reading blogs, and becoming educated in new ideas.
A smile, can be generous, if given for the right reason. I have been swept away by the smile of a child, looking upon a bouquet of hand picked flowers, intended for someone special. That eager, innocent smile. Those dirty little fingers grasping tightly around the stems. Just the thought of it, warms my heart.
Learning how to give, is a journey. We all feel inadequate, at times. We feel like we are worthless, suffering more than those around us. Sometimes we feel that our lives are already poverty level, and we have nothing to share. This kind of stinginess is so very sad. Being attached to any one thing, any one idea, can and will limit your soul.
The idea is we should give what we can, and sometimes expand that to give what we think we can't live without. This is how we grow, as people. We learn about ourselves, that way. You know the phrase, "Let go, and let God".
I have to admit, I struggle with that one, myself. I have a hard time finding compassion for myself. I am an anxious person. Every thought I have is considered to within an inch of its life. I do not let go of anything, easily. I don't mean material things, those I have no problem letting go of. I am not a sentimental object person. I am a sentimental mental case. I do not give myself a break, until I break down physically, mentally, emotionally. I seek serenity, peace, and simplicity.
Letting those thoughts go, and getting back to the immediacy of our experiences. Being in the moment, and sharing all we have. I notice that I have the power to brighten up another's mood with my good mood. I can comfort those in pain, sometimes. Sometimes I can just be a sounding board, and validate someone else. And sometimes I have to stand up to the oppressors and fight for what I think is fair.
"We are our best source of encouragement and good advise. We are all accustomed to waiting for someone to give us a kind word, but we really have available to ourselves many kind words." Mildred Newman and Bernard Berkowitz ( How to be your own best friend.)
That is a book worth rereading, again and again! Peace
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
This is what Spring looks like here, today
There will be 6 inches of new snow, here, today. I will bring my camera, and see what beauty I can catch. Spring snow is beautiful, because it melts quickly, and nourishes the soil. That is what I have always been told.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Mourning Dove Effigy Mound
"This effigy mound is a spiritual place where you can come and let your Mother, the Earth, hold you. Let the children play on it. Dance on it. Use it to unload your grief and pain. Let it renew and strengthen you. Lay back in the soft fold of it's wings, and let Mother Earth unburden you. Then get up and leave your troubles and cares on the mound, as you walk away renewed and refreshed." John A. Beaudin 1946-1993
The snow is melting, enough to uncover the Mourning Dove Effigy Mound. In the summer they mow it just a bit longer than the rest of the field, and it is visible. This is a sacred place, the Highground. It is a healing place, as I have said, many times before. People from all over the world come here to renew themselves, and to mourn for themselves, and for their loved ones.
The snow is melting, enough to uncover the Mourning Dove Effigy Mound. In the summer they mow it just a bit longer than the rest of the field, and it is visible. This is a sacred place, the Highground. It is a healing place, as I have said, many times before. People from all over the world come here to renew themselves, and to mourn for themselves, and for their loved ones.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Bowling for a good cause
I am going bowling, today. I signed up for a tournament and I have not picked up a bowling ball in many, many months. It is a charity thing, and I am glad to participate, but I know I am going to laugh a lot, and apologize to my teammates for all of my shortcomings. It is to raise funds for breast cancer. I am glad to do it. I looked in my closet and can't find a pink shirt to wear....dang!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
The rose garden
Duluth, Mn. USA |
This is the city I was born in, and the place I left, happily. Beauty everywhere, and painful memories are shadows that dim the beauty. I left the familiar, and found solace in the charm and solitude of rural Wisconsin.
Okay, I admit it, I ran away! I left without telling my friends, or family where I was going. I left my house, and all I brought into my "new life" was my cat, Iggy, and a few photo albums, and some clothes. My children were grown, and I was continuing to sink deeper and deeper into depression. I needed to run away, and I did. I ran back into the arms of my Husband. He always makes me feel stronger, and he loves me. I am glad I ran away, and sorry that I left without saying goodbye, too.
"Now, there is a law written the darkest of the Books of Life, and it is this: If you look at a thing nine hundred and ninety-nine times, you are perfectly safe; if you look at it the thousandth time, you are in frightful danger of seeing it for the first time. -G.K. Chesterton
Okay, I admit it, I ran away! I left without telling my friends, or family where I was going. I left my house, and all I brought into my "new life" was my cat, Iggy, and a few photo albums, and some clothes. My children were grown, and I was continuing to sink deeper and deeper into depression. I needed to run away, and I did. I ran back into the arms of my Husband. He always makes me feel stronger, and he loves me. I am glad I ran away, and sorry that I left without saying goodbye, too.
"Now, there is a law written the darkest of the Books of Life, and it is this: If you look at a thing nine hundred and ninety-nine times, you are perfectly safe; if you look at it the thousandth time, you are in frightful danger of seeing it for the first time. -G.K. Chesterton
Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong - Summertime
My Mom used to sing this song all the time, and today I just thought it was a nice way to share her memory. I miss her, so much. I hope you can hear this in Heaven.....
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Breaking water on the Black River, WI. My doggy blog!
My Katie loves to explore with us. She may be just a little chihuahua, but she is as brave as any big dog. This was yesterday, and I live by the river. We walk there, a lot, and enjoy the changes. The snow is melting, and people are afraid of flooding, of course.
Today, was a beautiful day, although I worked 14 hours, so I was not able to enjoy it. Tomorrow I will probably sleep.
I keep my camera handy, on my drive to work, waiting to encounter the first bear of the season. Nothing yet, but hopefully if I do see one, meandering down the road, I will be ready, with camera in hand, and time to snap a photo.
It was a difficult day, at work. My third double shift in 4 days. I am tired, and cranky. Enough said! Katie is filling up with dog food as I sit writing this, it is 11:29pm here. I just hope she doesn't have to go outside too early! Wishful thinking! Good night, and sweet dreams!
Today, was a beautiful day, although I worked 14 hours, so I was not able to enjoy it. Tomorrow I will probably sleep.
I keep my camera handy, on my drive to work, waiting to encounter the first bear of the season. Nothing yet, but hopefully if I do see one, meandering down the road, I will be ready, with camera in hand, and time to snap a photo.
It was a difficult day, at work. My third double shift in 4 days. I am tired, and cranky. Enough said! Katie is filling up with dog food as I sit writing this, it is 11:29pm here. I just hope she doesn't have to go outside too early! Wishful thinking! Good night, and sweet dreams!
Monday, March 14, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Summer wishes
Little Apples |
caption |
A farm, and a field |
The farmers market |
The rain, and the woodlands |
A garden fence |
I am grateful to live in the land of rolling hills, space, and four seasons. I know the true magnificence that awaits me, in nature. I will strive to be content. It is possible. I am just excited to smell freshly mowed grass, and hear the buzz of honey bee's. I am looking forward to being able to go outside without wearing a coat, or boots.
I took all of these photos last summer. It was a good summer, indeed.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Folded out of the picture
When I was small, maybe two years old, my Mother took a picture of my Dad's parents. They were standing together, and I somehow got in the frame, on the bottom. I was wearing an Easter bonnet, or some such little girl hat, so I suspect it was a holiday. Shortly afterwards, my Grandfather died, suddenly, of some heart problem. My Mom gave the photo to my Grandmother, who framed it. I was folded out.
For the next 44 years, that picture sat in my Grandmother's living room. It was always there, and I knew that my little girl face was hidden in the folds. Okay, so then she died. Who knows, who got that picture. Who really cares about that little girl, who ever she was. Did they take the photo out of the frame? Did they cut me out? It really doesn't matter, to anyone but me.
I was folded out, cast away, put aside. I guess I just feel like that was a theme, somehow, for my future. Just jane in the background. Just a person of little significance, who does nothing to make a place, for herself. Boohoo, cry me a river! What ever, I know.
The reality is that it was a special picture. It held a place in my Grandmother's life. I did not, though. I was just another face in the crowd of a large Catholic family. My father divorced my Mother. We were just not considered part of the family anymore. Not really.
Luckily, my Mother was an only child. We were very special to my maternal Grandparents. I cherish the relationship I had with them. They are gone, now. So is my Mother. All that remains is my Father, and his family. They know little about me, or my life. I am just a name to them, nothing more. I got closer to my Father after my Mother died. But he goes to family functions, alone. Without us. We are never invited to family reunions, or gatherings. I was folded out of the picture, folded out of the family.
For the next 44 years, that picture sat in my Grandmother's living room. It was always there, and I knew that my little girl face was hidden in the folds. Okay, so then she died. Who knows, who got that picture. Who really cares about that little girl, who ever she was. Did they take the photo out of the frame? Did they cut me out? It really doesn't matter, to anyone but me.
I was folded out, cast away, put aside. I guess I just feel like that was a theme, somehow, for my future. Just jane in the background. Just a person of little significance, who does nothing to make a place, for herself. Boohoo, cry me a river! What ever, I know.
The reality is that it was a special picture. It held a place in my Grandmother's life. I did not, though. I was just another face in the crowd of a large Catholic family. My father divorced my Mother. We were just not considered part of the family anymore. Not really.
Luckily, my Mother was an only child. We were very special to my maternal Grandparents. I cherish the relationship I had with them. They are gone, now. So is my Mother. All that remains is my Father, and his family. They know little about me, or my life. I am just a name to them, nothing more. I got closer to my Father after my Mother died. But he goes to family functions, alone. Without us. We are never invited to family reunions, or gatherings. I was folded out of the picture, folded out of the family.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Blizzard Surfing on Lake Superior, Minnesota
I guess there are things I haven't tried on Lake Superior. Surfing in a blizzard is one of them. You have to be a little bit bored to do something like that, I suppose.
The door, a poem in 55 words
The Door
This passageway legacy
this poets quest
compensation for misdeeds long ago.
Am I not the arbitrary construction of nothing
but an answer to the landscape?
I speculate the consequence of my presence here
with tales passed down through the ages
the pageant of life.
Shall I glorify this simple door
or brazenly pass through it?
This passageway legacy
this poets quest
compensation for misdeeds long ago.
Am I not the arbitrary construction of nothing
but an answer to the landscape?
I speculate the consequence of my presence here
with tales passed down through the ages
the pageant of life.
Shall I glorify this simple door
or brazenly pass through it?
Saturday, March 5, 2011
A day off
I have a picture in my mind of the perfect day off. It starts with a steaming cup of coffee, French Roast if possible, with some cream and sugar. One cup, and maybe a slice of buttered raisin toast. The butter melts, because it was buttered while it was still warm from the toaster.
Okay, here is where fantasy will have to overtake reality, because we are going to get up to 20 inches of snow, AGAIN, but in my imaginary day off, I walk outside, to sit under a pine umbrella, in an Adirondack chair. The smell of blooming lilacs perfume the air. Someone is playing bagpipes in the distance, and they are really good! Hey, this is my fantasy!!! There is a soft breeze, but the day is humid and moist. I sip my warm coffee, and eat my crisp toast.
After enjoying the outdoors in my pajamas and slippers, I go back inside to take a long bath. I run my bath water in my claw foot bathtub, and add scented lavender bath salts. The lavender scent is strong, and cleanses my palate for the adventures that await. Okay, I do this everyday. Yes, I have a huge old fashioned claw foot bathtub, that I enjoy, daily. I know, I am lucky.
I emerge from the tub and look at the clock, I have the whole day ahead, I am free to do as I like. I can go shopping at antique shops. I can garden. I can play with my Husband. I can read one of the many books that are calling my name. I can paint a picture, or write a poem. The day is mine.
The fantasy stops here, because I like to have choices. I like to know that this day can unfold a thousand delightful ways.
Okay, here is where fantasy will have to overtake reality, because we are going to get up to 20 inches of snow, AGAIN, but in my imaginary day off, I walk outside, to sit under a pine umbrella, in an Adirondack chair. The smell of blooming lilacs perfume the air. Someone is playing bagpipes in the distance, and they are really good! Hey, this is my fantasy!!! There is a soft breeze, but the day is humid and moist. I sip my warm coffee, and eat my crisp toast.
After enjoying the outdoors in my pajamas and slippers, I go back inside to take a long bath. I run my bath water in my claw foot bathtub, and add scented lavender bath salts. The lavender scent is strong, and cleanses my palate for the adventures that await. Okay, I do this everyday. Yes, I have a huge old fashioned claw foot bathtub, that I enjoy, daily. I know, I am lucky.
I emerge from the tub and look at the clock, I have the whole day ahead, I am free to do as I like. I can go shopping at antique shops. I can garden. I can play with my Husband. I can read one of the many books that are calling my name. I can paint a picture, or write a poem. The day is mine.
Photo by Leanna Hammer |
Thursday, March 3, 2011
My boys...
I wish I could have seen into your futures, and done whatever it took to save you from all the heartbreak. I wish I would have had more time to record, in my memory, the sounds of your laughter. I wish there was a time machine I could climb aboard and change something to make my guys life better.
Wishing is fruitless, I know. Regret is too. My love for you, is not. I love you, my boys. I will always love you!
Wishing is fruitless, I know. Regret is too. My love for you, is not. I love you, my boys. I will always love you!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
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