Why Do They Have to Grow UP?

There are certain ages that are special and remind us why we have kids in the first place. But, why do they have to Grow UP?

They are so cute when they are babies, yet who wants a baby for too long.

When they become toddlers, they start to talk and walk and are so adorable. That is until they learn to yell and run.  Don't forget they learn to say "NO" at this age too.

Five to ten are such wonderful ages. They start to become somewhat self-sufficient. They still love their parents. They are fun to hang out with and yet don't require as much effort as when they were very young.  And, they love to learn.

Then they hit pre-puberty and puberty. This is when they turn into little he/she demons and you ask yourself -  "Remind me why did I have these things again?"

The teen years - 15-18. This is when they start to cocoon from a young child into adulthood. This is the age of my nephew now. He exhibits such wonderful beginnings of a nice young man. Of course, I don't have to live with him.

Even though I am enjoying seeing the young man emerge - I really miss the little boy that was.

My Most Prized Possessions

My most prized possessions aren't my car, jewelry, cell phone or things like that. My most prized possessions are things with an emotional attachment to them.

A book titled, Sisters, given to me by my sister.

A glass bowl given to me by my younger brother.

A housecoat that my son bought me years ago.

A piece I bought in Canon Beach, OR that has two small clay bells on it.

Some dishes that I don't use but cherish for various reasons.

A fancy decorated candlestick that my husband bought me one year for Christmas.

Scarves that belonged to a friend who recently passed away.

A roll-top desk given to me by people that I only slightly know, but who thought enough of me to have it and I treasure it daily.

My most prized possessions are things of real value to anyone but me.  The way prized possessions should be.

For A Moment I Returned

Yesterday, I saw a glimpse of my former self. Someone I thought was long gone. For a moment she was there - I realized how much I missed her.

Yesterday, I saw a glimpse of my former self:

One who was not afraid...

One who did not live in the shadows...

On who gives without the worry...

Yesterday, I saw a glimpse of me – what I used to be. I hope that someday she returns again. No matter how brief.

Sweet Promise

Like any drug - there is the Sweet Promise of blissful joy. Its siren song sings of heavenly delight. Each taste teases the tongue with pure ecstasy.

I CRAVE it's sweetness!

I need the heady high that comes with each delectable bite.



And, like any drug - there is a price to pay once the high goes away. A violent crash that leaves you weak and trembling. The long term effects that wear down your body and your mind. Years of abuse start to show as your body can no longer tolerate it. Its dependency is deep and strong.

Like any drug, or addiction, you want to kick it. You need to kick it, but its hold on you is overpowering and willful.

I am a sugar addict.

I want it.

I crave it.

But, I don't need it.

It is a raging battle to control the cravings, one that I lose often.

I tell myself that I enjoy it, but that is a LIE! The little rush I get isn't worth the damage it is doing to my body, or the crash I have when it finally wears off.

Like anything that is to good to be true - the Sweet Promise from this addiction is a illusion - A SCAM!


Expressing myself with the Sweet Promise of trying to kick a life time habit. Or, not!

How Laundry Helps My Writing

My laundry, more specifically my dryer, and I have a special relationship. The serenity I find in doing such a simple mundane task allows my creative mind to emerge. While doing laundry I can push the outside world away, I can release my analytical brain from its duties, and I can let my mind wander.

It is during this creative outflow of time that I may solve plot issues, discover new characters, fix a scene, have a dialog with a character, or even create a new story. I dedicate my stories to my dryer because it is such a significant part of my writing. It is my release from the real world. It takes me to a place of play and creative outlet. It is my escape, at least temporarily, into a world of fantasy.

To my dryer - I dedicate this to you.

Time to go, my dryer is calling me...