Category: Touches The Heart
I worked in business for 20 years. Safely ensconced at a desk job,I brought my half of the income home and managed that, along with my husband’s half, into a comfortable life. We recycled twice a week, took our vitamins, joined the health club, and didn’t use pesticides on our garden. We bought organic t-shirts and broccoli, I drove a Subaru wagon, and we tried … Read More The Complacent Liberal
It’s not really writers block, it’s more writer’s recession. I swear to all that is holy, I will put out 600 words today, or I will sleep on he floor tonight.I won’t sleep on the floor, but I will roundly chastise myself in front of friends and family.They always find it amusing, and I do want to make them happy during the holidays. It’s like … Read More On Writing: I Am Typing Until I Have Something
Originally posted on My Life As A Slinky:
It’s true. For better and for worse, we carry these two things with us where ever we go. No matter how much we love them, are frustrated by them, or even hate them at times, they always follow us. I don’t fight these two things. In fact, I accept them both in my life with great…
Things I Am Exhausted By: Tuna fish casserole, Glen Beck, and pot holes. Cold hands, cold feet, and lack of sleep. Paper work, broken pens, and screaming dorks. Travis Tritt, hollowness, and olive pits. Bad gin, used shoes, and not enough sin. Wanting a cigarette and craving Fritos. Not having a cigarette, yet still craving Fritos. Things I Never Get Tired Of: Steely Dan, Danny Kaye, and stealing kisses. Dark chocolate, red … Read More Some things in life you never get tired of, and some things are just exhausting
I’m just not feeling it yet. You know the cookie-baking-ho-ho-merry-merry-gift-wrapping-“Swing-by my-house-tomorrow”-extravaganza that we are about to take part in the next 4 weeks. This has happened to me many times before.I know what to expect. Years upon years of retail and food have worn me down to mere stubble in the beard of all you Santa reincarnates. I’m not a Scrooge. I adore the intimate moments … Read More Anticipation And The Past – OR – Here We Go Again, Another Holiday Post.
What is an average day? It differs for all of us. Some of us sit in an office, and some behind a counter. Some of us stand behind a stove, and yet others drive all day going from one place to another. My definition of average has changed over the past 16 months. I’ve gone from running one business to working at two, and … Read More When She Held Out Her Hands
A time traveler. Cocksure and brave, I would travel through the smoke and mirrors of space and time finding all the good and bad of the past. Living history one scandal, one disaster, and one war at a time. The problem, of course, is that along with the greatness would come the sadness. While I was bathing myself in the passion of Beethoven, the devastation of the great … Read More I Wish I Were
I saw her speak in 2004. She was pure grace in its truest sense of the word. In a recent interview, she answered the question “Why do you write?” I touches on perfection. We write for the same reason that we walk, talk, climb mountains or swim the oceans- because we can. We have some impulse within us that makes us want to explain … Read More Thoughts On Writing From Maya Angelou
High school dances, where crushes turned on a heartbeat until they fell into heart-break. CCR, Smoke On The Water, and Stairway, all playing while boys lined one side of the dance floor and girls lined the other. A few were brave. We danced and didn’t care. That is until the slow song. Then we went to the wall and the couples ruled supreme. Watching … Read More Up Against The Wall
On hot summer nights as a child, I would sit outside with my Dad and listen to the Twins on his RCA Victor transistor radio. It was small, and we had to huddle around it as we listened to Herb Carneal and Halsey Hall see the game for us. He’s rounding third and heading for home plate. Dad’s excitement always poured over me. I was the son he … Read More Rounding Second And Heading For Third
I have two storage lockers full of crap. At one time these were cherished mementos from three decades of living; painstakingly selected to represent my taste, philosophy, and intelligence. Now it’s just two 14 x 14 foot square rooms of shit. Books. Boxes of Hemingway Austin, and Hawthorne stacked to one side of the locker, a wall of imagery, alteration, and symbols. Pomposity at it’s finest. Don’t get me … Read More They’re Just Things.
Spending two hours weighing chicken is not overly exciting. You may find that surprising. I have a part-time job right now in a kitchen. I needed to raise some money, and there is honor in all work. Well, maybe not all work. Working for the mob; drug kingpin; banking; these all come to mind–but I digress. During these times of mind-numbing redundancy, I find … Read More One Sentence-One Person.