Entanglement

Original Haiku. Traditional 5-7-5, I hope you enjoy!  winter winds exhale one last, long, cold breath before  giving up to spring  the full moon, alone  hangs low in the twilight sky  i feel her sadness  morning fog blankets  a dew kissed hidden meadow  god's beauty unseen  face tilted skyward  drinking in afternoon rays  sunshine warms my soul  aware of morning  first light, songbirds, alarm clock  a chance to start fresh  hours without words  solitude is a constant  opportunity  puffy white clouds float  lazily in a blue sky,  daydreaming again  electricity  tangible when you are near  come closer, shock me  desire, dangerous,  unquenched it burns urgent, hot  longing for your touch

This is such a great creative release for me...I hope you enjoy it. :-) her body shivers standing barefoot in cool rain, letting go of him bittersweet season, heart's mood like the falling leaves, dying without you little green spider riding a single silk thread battles autumn winds she wears solitude like faded old blue denim, comfortable friend one by one they fall, grief reduced to salty brine, love just doesn't last ladybug's flight paused, red and black zigzag across my white cotton tee time, an illusion that seems to pass more slowly when I'm not with you

Today, I am inspired. Today I let my soul feel, imagine and be all the wonderful things that I am capable of. The Universe—is an infinite sea, with wave after wave of pure potential waiting to be collapsed upon the white pristine beaches of my reality. I am but a tiny thread in the complex tapestry that creates our cosmos, but I am no less than the brightest star that shines in the heavens, because the Divine views me through loving eyes that sees no difference, for we are all One. Know that you are not separate from that which created you... you are part of it . Love, the greatest power in the Universe, the only power really, begins within. Today, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to the brightest star in the afternoon sky and let the wind caress my being, acknowledging the moment and all its potential.

These are tips I fully intend to follow myself, if I'm ever presented with an opportunity to have sex again in this lifetime.  Tip #1 Exercise Two words— Kegel exercise . If you don't know what that is, then you need to learn. Forget cardio, ab crunches and glute workouts. If you have an anaconda death grip on your man's fun stick during sex he won't care that you've put on twenty pounds since summer. He might even want to get it on more often , which I don't have to tell you is a win-win situation. After forty it is the most important exercise we ladies can do. It also helps keep that little drop of tinkle in when you sneeze. Some of you just went, aaahhh ...light bulb moment!  Tip #2 Ambiance If you've never done a Kegel, then you need to turn the lights off and the music up. Trust me on this one. Your man is going to have his eyes closed anyway so he can block out the lovely vision of your tits up under your armpits and forget that your belly button ha...

One of my favorite sensations in all the world, is feeling the wind blow. Not wind blown like riding in a convertible, or speeding across the water in a ski boat. I'm talking about the gentle breeze that comes rustling through the trees and softly caresses your being. Lucky for me, there is almost always a breeze coming off the lake. I take a moment, close my eyes, feel the warm sun on my face, feel the wind whip up tiny tendrils of hair that tickle my lips, and imagine I am the puffed white seedling of a dandelion waiting for a favorable current to carry me away.  I love strong winds right before the deluge of a rainstorm, too. Senses heightened—you can see the trees bowed over succumbing to the wind shear...you can hear branches creak and moan as they bend, sway and gnash together in a tangled dance...and you can smell the approaching rain. It is as humbling as it is beautiful to me. This living, breathing planet on which we live gives us eye candy to behold every day. Some...

Any time we are fortunate enough to be reminded of our worth it's a gift. So often, we shuffle through life in a predictable routine or rut becoming numb to life's nuances and subtleties. We slowly become sleepwalkers in the recurring dream that is our waking life. The scenery never changes, and we lose sight of the little things that used to bring us joy. Some of us give up on ourselves. Some of us live for someone else's happiness. Some just get lonely. We forget who we are because we have lost faith in ourselves. We wear our smile like a mask, hiding the sadness underneath. Our soul becomes crippled with lack of exercise—and then someone shines their light on your face, and unexpectedly wakes you from your slumber. They share their breath with you, making it possible for you to start living again.  A woman's worth is immeasurable and should never be taken for granted. Sometimes this stubborn old woman needs a wake up call to remind her of this fact. I have laughed...

I hate grocery shopping. It seems I'm always in the god forsaken Publix for something. I can—make a list, get everything on it, spend two hundred dollars, get home, put it all away, and then realize I have forgotten one item. What usually follows is an undignified adult temper tantrum with lots of cursing and stomping about. I start another list, unless it's something crucial that I've forgotten and then I have to return to the store wasting my time, and burning gas for toilet paper. You may be thinking... why doesn't she just go to the kwiki store for one item? Well, sometimes I do, but not for ass wipe. I have to buy the premium, mega mother, softest Charmin brand. I do, after all, have two (okay, three including me) very picky little girls, and one indifferent husband who can't understand why us ladies need to use so much toilet paper in the first place. We, on the other hand, don't understand how he gets his ass clean with three squares of paper—must be a ...

Assuming I live to be eighty, then half my life is behind me. What do I have to show for it? I have made too many mistakes to mention. I have traveled, though not as well as I would have liked. I have partied 'til dawn with rock stars, and been courted by royalty. Some of my best memories were made in the English countryside with an unpretentious girl named Janie May. I hope she was able to help save some of the South American rain forests as she so passionately spoke about over many a pint. As I take inventory of my life up to now, it has been an intricate tapestry colorful and rich with each thread representing friendships, lovers, laughter, loneliness, and heartbreak. I've had a pretty good life so far, so what's next? I want to see the sun rise over the Grand Canyon, and the Northern Lights. I want to sleep in a haunted B&B, and in the Ice Hotel in Sweden. I want to learn to speak French, and then spend a summer in Paris. I want to ride a motorcycle over the Beart...

I hate it when it rains. I have two itty bitty Chihuahuas that flat out refuse to relieve themselves outside when it is raining. My female won't even leave the garage. She'll walk to the edge realize it's raining, and tuck tail all the way back to the door. If I pick her up and carry her little ass to the grass she just stands there quaking with a look that says... just shoot me . I've found that my yelling at her doesn't produce a single drop of pee either. Holding an umbrella doesn't work—she's afraid of it. My retarded little male doesn't know how to pee because he covers up her pee, so he has no clue what to do. He just runs around in circles smelling the ground for anything remotely familiar so that he can relieve his tiny little bladder. Sadly, it's quite funny, but also frustrating as hell. I have pretty much quit trying to make them pee in the rain. I went to PetsMart and invested in those "stay at home pads" for dogs that are too ...

Feeling low? Maybe you've gained a few l-b's, and you are feeling badly about the way you look. Well, let me tell you how to fix that. The quickest way to boost your self esteem is to spend the day at an amusement park or a state fair. You will come home feeling downright sexy! I pay good money to go to Six Flags just to people watch. My family gets to have a blast riding roller coasters, and my ego gets lifted—it's great! Nope, no Jenny Craig, Deal-a-Meal or gym membership can shock your system like an ogling at your local fun park. Muffin top used to have one meaning—now it is also used to describe the disturbing, fat, fleshy overhang of skin around a woman's mid section that is usually protruding from her three sizes too small Hollister t-shirt. You know she looked in the mirror before she left her house, and thought she was dressed. She probably thought she looked gooood, too. Really, is that supposed to be sexy in any way? Do men see that and think... man I would l...

Do you remember the very first time you ever had your heart broken? I do. I remember it vividly...all of the anguish, all the disbelief, all of the insecurity, and especially feeling absolutely certain that my heart would never heal. I didn't think I would ever recover, but of course I did. Time heals, right? Right—until the next time, and the next time, and the next time—but somehow that first heartbreak is the worst. It is in that moment that you realize everything you thought you knew about love was a lie. Everything you ever dared to dream about love becomes just that, a dream. So, soon you realize that love isn't anything like you've read about in books, or seen in movies. If it were, there would be no reason to write the books or make the movies. People would just walk around in a perpetual state of bliss and happiness. No one would ever get divorced, it would be utopia, right? Right now I have two little girls whose idea of romantic love is what they read in books an...

My hair is falling out. I'm not kidding. Not only can I tell by the handfuls of stringy brown hair that I see go down the drain in the shower, but I can see it in the mirror. I can see my scalp through the wisps of hair on my crown. It's alarming, people! Baldness is hereditary and runs rampant in my family. Why is it we only think of men going bald? You know you've seen women before who are sporting a comb over, or worse. What's worse than a female comb over you may ask? Dandelion head.  My grandmother educated me about dandelion headed women. She'd say... when I die, don't let your Papaw get with one of them dandelion heads. When you have to go to a beauty parlor once a week to have what's left of your hair spun into a thin, thin cotton candy poof ball atop your head...you have achieved dandelion status. You may have seen these women in church, or trying desperately to see over the steering wheel of their land yacht on the way home from church. Their hair...

My girlfriend brought an advertisement to my attention yesterday that brought about waves of raucous laughter for us, and other like minded twisted minds out there to be sure. Apparently the economy is so bad that plastic surgeons are giving deals on boob jobs. The image of a carnival barker instantly came to mind... step right up ladies...buy one breast implant and we'll give you the second one free...so, hurry, hurry, hurry, step right up... Call me crazy, but I don't want my breasts anywhere near the lowest bidder. I'm afraid I'll wind up looking like a Picasso. I want top dollar titties, and I won't mind paying very high prices for quality work when the time comes. I love these women who go to third world countries for their nip/tucks and come home with a face full of industrial grade silicone, and then complain about being deformed. Are we suppose to be shocked? Are we supposed to feel sorry for them? I mean really... hello , what did they expect? If patient...

More commonly referred to as birthmarks, angel kisses are strawberry red marks seen right after birth and fade with age. My youngest daughter, Samantha, turns nine on Sunday. I wrote this for her. Angel Kisses You were born with angel kisses, The nurses told me so. There's one on your left shoulder, And underneath your nose. The angels up in heaven must have been sad to see you go, So they covered you with kisses from your head down to your toes. They thought the kisses would wear off before I saw your face, But two remained reminding me of God's eternal grace. You are a very special gift from Him you see, Wrapped in love with angel kisses, delivered tenderly. So undeserving and yet so proud, It's my honor and charge to watch over you now. Even though my kisses may not leave their mark, I know that as you grow, you'll feel them in your heart. And so, my Earth Angel I give you all my love, I know we're being smiled upon from angels up above....

I think my eggs are about to expire. I'm not talking about the EggLand's Best in my fridge—no I'm talking about the three or four left in my ovaries that are screaming at me to be fertilized. Most women call it their biological clock ticking. I have to disagree. I don't hear ticking I hear those little suckers begging, pleading, and yes, sometimes screaming to couple with a sperm and create life. I have been ignoring their insane request for quite some time now. I drown out their little voices by rationally explaining to them that I already have two perfectly good children who, by the way, have been out of diapers for a very long time. What kind of dumb ass gets pregnant after age forty anyway, I ask myself? Hell, I'll be going through the change in about ten more years. All the more reason for you to copulate, my eggs yell at me.  I brought this up with my husband a few days ago. Usually he breaks into his song and dance routine about: being pregnant, morning sic...

Anyone who has ever lived in or around Atlanta knows that once every three or four years we get a significant snow event. Yesterday was one of those days. I made the mandatory trip to the grocery store for supplies Saturday afternoon with my sunroof open and the windows down—it was 69 degrees. The checkout girl and I scoffed at the prediction of one to three inches of snow, really! Still, there I was buying milk just in case.  What is it about the very mention of the word snow that turns even the most level headed person into a blithering idiot? Perhaps it is the thought of being snowed in with the family unit for days with no electricity. Maybe it's the fact that our thriving metropolis has thirty year old hand me down salt trucks from the tri state area that no one is quite sure how to use. It could be that one driver on the road we're afraid of that insists on going out when they know good and well they should sit their happy ass at home. You know who you are...  So, t...

One of my guilty pleasures is buying the gossip mags that come out every Friday. I gave up most all of my unhealthy vices like fake baking, smoking and carbs , which will hopefully save me from having to nip/tuck my ears to the back of my head one day. Don't get me wrong. I'm all for a little surgical help, especially since mother nature can no longer hold my breasts in their full, upright and locked position. Under wire and padding give the illusion that they are in the anatomically correct place on my frame, but when the Wacoal comes off I go back to having tribal tits—sigh. Okay, back to my point. I'm absolutely all for plastic surgery, until you begin to actually look plastic. There are women in Hollywood that have foreheads so slick and shiny I'd be willing to bet you could bounce the rays of the sun off them and start a fire. I have my suspicions that's how the wildfires get started out there. I mean, really, think about it. Wildfires occur with such reg...

I was practically raised on Neiman Marcus, so when my mom suggested we meet there yesterday, I was giddy. I hadn't set foot in the store in about five years. When you are a stay at home mom you really don't have any occasions that call for designer duds, but I'm a firm believer that an afternoon at Neiman's is good for the soul!  We met outside our entrance. I'm quite sure we've never entered the store through any other door...outside, fourth level parking deck. I don't think they've changed the handle on that door since it was hung many years ago. It looks just the same as I've always remembered it—familiar, worn, weathered, and frozen in time. It's just about the only thing that hasn't changed. Things on the inside have moved around a bit like shoes, jewelry and the ladies lounge, but it's still every bit as elegant. Dressing for Neiman's is a must if you expect to get any service, and mom didn't disappoint. She looked regal,...

My girls have the week off due to a mid-winter break. Needless to say it's hard for me to concentrate on my book, but they have provided me with some great material for my new blog. I don't bother picking up the toy carnage left in their wake anymore. They know that when they are finished playing crash test baby that it needs to be put away. Crash test baby straps herself into her stroller, and then launches like a fighter jet off an aircraft carrier head first into whatever gets in her way: door jam, kitchen island, fridge, cat, and occasionally me if I'm not paying attention to launch codes. The girls squeal in delight as crash test baby survives another collision—is that bad? I figure it's not as bad as when they used to play Suicide Barbie. Suicide Barbie often takes herself to the top of "lover's leap" (our foyer balcony) and hurls her broken hearted self over the edge to splat on the hardwood below. Sometimes Ken joins her in her foolhardy leap, a ...

I suppose there are worse things to have to be awakened by in the middle of the night than underwear. A few nights ago it was vomit, which I can handle. Well let me tell you, the Princess with her tiny little pea and fifty two mattresses has got nothin ' on my little girl whose underwear wakes her up at midnight. I'm a light sleeper (a curse bestowed upon me the minute I gave birth; before that I could sleep through a freight train plowing through the living room) so when lights came on down the hallway, I got up to investigate. Like 5-0 the questioning started... what's the problem? What do you mean they feel funny? Well, how many are you going to try on? No, they're all the same honey. What's wrong with that pair? The color's not right? The yellow ones? No, I don't know where they are. How about these? Too tight? Too loose? What do you mean one side rides up? Here, try these...what...no they're your sister's. Yes, they are clean! No they don...