Dallas here.
Mama’s on a tear, and I’m hiding low. Watching her as usual, but out of harm’s way.
Because I’ve lived with her long enough to know two things:
1) She gets like this when she’s stressed, and
2) This, too, shall pass.
Author Archives: Debbie
Writing
Rejection.
We writers
Open our souls
To the whole world
To see and to judge
What we labor to bring forth.
Sometimes it’s spectacular, inspired, or even divine;
Other times, it’s nothing but garbage
Wasting good ink and paper.
Or worse, merely average.
Running in circles
Saying nothing
Important.
Note: This one came to me late at night. If there’s a name for this poetic form (with word count increasing by one on lines 1-7, then decreasing back to one), somebody please let me know!
Is this appropriate?
I’m probably treading thin ice here, but something happened (again!) in church this weekend, and I’ve just got to expound.
Happy B-day, Domer
May you live a long life
Full of gladness and health,
With a pocket full of gold
As the least of your wealth.
May the dreams you hold dearest
Be those which come true,
May the kindness you spread,
Keep returning to you. — Irish Blessing
Happy Happy Birthday to the BEST SON EVER!! Love you bunches!
Turn It Off!!
Winter, you have worn out your very last welcome. Me
Forecasters were right on target yesterday when they assured us we were in line for an additional 4-8 inches of snow (the last tally I saw indicates we got at least six).
I don’t know about others, but I’ve had it Up To Here with winter!
Who Gets the Bully?
A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down. ~Robert Benchley
Recently, I found myself tuned in to Cesar Milan (you know, the Dog Whisperer), and he was promoting an upcoming show in which a couple needed his help with their bulldog mix who’d bitten their 3-year-old child.
The couple trained horses for a living, and the mom — despite the boy’s scars, despite her husband’s pleas to get rid of the dog — prided her abilities and refused to admit defeat. Even if the dog bit the boy again.
What was she thinking??
Only Child
Only child, all by yourself,
Who will teach you to share?
Only child, all by yourself,
How will you learn to care?
No sibling in sight to share with or fight,
No one to compete with, it’s true.
No closet to plunder, no sister or brother,
No one but your parents and you.
Imaginary games played by just one.
Imaginary friends who listen
And speak what you want, when you want them to talk,
Then depart with nary a squeak.
Before you know it, school begins
And then you will see, I fear,
The grappling and clawing, commotion and jawing
Of others you won’t want too near.
Only child, all by yourself,
Who will teach you to share?
Only child, all by yourself,
How will you learn to care?
Watching and listening are strengths that I have,
Don’t fret over me, mother and dad.
“Only” doesn’t mean lonely, you know,
And who misses what he’s never had?
I’ve chosen my pals with knowledge and care,
They like me in spite of my flaws.
They know when to talk and refuse to balk
If I’m grumpy or down with the blahs.
I’ve courted kindness, rightness, and humor
To bring people into my sphere.
I’m comfy alone and can hold my own
Whether folks are away or right here.
‘Tis better by far to have peace when alone
Than discord with a sibling, you see.
Anger, bitterness, silence, and hate
Are nothing I want around me.
Only child, all by yourself,
Of course you are learning to share!
Only child, all by yourself,
Your heart teaches you to care.
NOTE: This, according to my research, is written in Ballad Metre, a variation of Common Measure. Four lines alternate between iambic tetrameter and iambic trimeter in the rhyming pattern of a-b-c-b. If any of you experts know otherwise, please educate me!
(Nearly) Wordless Tuesday
Okay, so how much longer do I have to wait until Mardi Gras?? (It’s today, everybody — let the good times roll!)
Writing Conference Wrap-up
Because some of you asked me to share a few nuggets I gleaned from the writing conference I attended recently, here goes (and remember, back to “regular programming” next time!):
Mingling, or Thinking?
“Quiet people have the loudest minds.” Stephen Hawking
There was a young woman at the writing conference I attended recently, and all I could do was stare at her with admiration (and yes, a touch of envy).
Musings by an ND Domer's Mom 