August's Open Letters

Dear Lady in queue

It's called a 'personal bubble' and it's apparent you don't have one. Please be advised the majority of us do. I don't relish the feeling of your boobs against my back even if you were reaching for something. Nor does it excite me to have you constantly pressing up against my arm while we waited. Back. Off.

Signed

Personal Space Cadet.

Dear Stress Point

You camp out behind my shoulder blade, making your presence well known. You are impossible to get to and you crawl right up into my neck. My stomach is sick from the stupid pain. I don't like you.

Signed

Stress-Full. 

Dear Jimmy Buffett

So... Margarita Grand Cayman..? I'm game. Got a few plane tickets laying around by chance? 

Signed,

Margarita Mama

Dear 8 hours of Sleep

Where the hell have you up and gone to??

Signed, 

Nocturnal Night Mamma No Wanna

Dear House, 

Clean yourself already. I quit.

Signed,
Housework. Blows. Chunks.

Dear Coffee Server, 

And just how did you get hot chocolate out of 'medium coffee half hot water, two milk' ??

This is the fourth blasted time. Frikken re-train or quit already. 

Signed,

Cranky Coffee Patron

Dear Dragonflies,

Never mind the stupid mating, eat the mosquitoes already. 

Signed, 

Bitten to Bits.

Dear Youngest Daughter, 

I know change is a scary thing, but you have your family and an excellent support system behind you. Take the high road with the crap that was unloaded on you. I know you can. After all , I raised you didn't I..  :-) 

Love, 
Mom
xo

Wordless Wednesday

Hair to spare :-)

For my reader friends I introduce to you..

Dawn

I promised you an awesome writer's blog and I have just delivered. Grab a beverage of your choice, settle in and read, read, read her posts.
You'll immediately be immersed into her newest adventures of stepping outside of her comfort zone, tackling the intricate steps to dancing.. with two left feet.
Who would of thought this would cure her writer's block? ( I've witnessed them before, they are painful periods. )
But suffering the sore muscles for a creative flow of words to paper is well worth the trade off.  :-)

A wee bit of background if you would like some...
Dawn and I have a complex 14 year relationship. It's not been all BFF, I won't lie to you. (Although a good 80% of it has been  ;-)  ) There are times her and I have come perilously close to killing each other but both being trained in kickboxing put the kibosh on that. We're well matched and no clear winner would ever be declared.
Through the years, we've gone through the thick and thin of life and strife. The good, the bad, the downright scary. At the same time we also claimed the beauty, the turbo charged highs of awesome adventures and times where we each needed the bodies hidden. Knowing no one else on earth would be able to grab the shovel at a moment's notice.

Twice now, I've been lucky enough to be able to tag along to Hawaii with her for some writers conferences. My job description, amongst several, was 'IR' in her writing world and I have met many great people. She's had the pleasure of working along side/learning from a couple of greats including Steve Berry and James Rollings, while I've had the pleasure of being immersed in the writing world without the pain of writing. How fortunate was I.  :-)

When I say she's a rare talent, I do so with an unbiased opinion. I do not say this because of our friendship. I say this because I know it to be fact. I have been a reader all my life,I know what makes a great writer and she fits the bill.

So my bloggy friends, hop on over and follow Dawn's world , be prepared to be entertained, awed and hooked line and sinker.You'll be looking forward to her posts, I promise you.

Feel free to drop me a line,let me know what you think. And stay tuned, her and I have many adventures yet to come. :-)

Wordless Wednesday

Musings of This, That and Other Things

Why hello again, my bloggy buddies, I'm back and looking forward to catching up with you all in BloggyVille :-)


Musings of This, That and Other Things.

I don't profess to be the fashion police but I know,without doubt, lululemon pants don't marry well with heels, pumps or straps. This case was heels. I tried to not stare but had to try figure out her thought process when she put her outfit together. I failed. Miserably.


Ok so I tried to get on the 'happiness bandwagon thingamagiggy'. It's where you chase all negative thoughts,comments and verbal responses away for 21 days straight. Apparently it's designed to make you more happy? Zen? In tune?  The first time I tried saying something nice, I literally bit my tongue,but held it in the nick of time. The second attempt I fell clean on my ass, swore from the pain of it and got pushed off the stupidpollyanna bandwagon.  But A for effort, if you please..I have the wounds to prove it. And really? I'm zen with my sarcasm thank you very much.

Question I ponder sometimes when I head out: 
Why did I go out today? I know you've asked yourself the same thing a time or ten. We all must venture out, yes it's true, but does Murphy's Law have to stalk me on a regular basis?


 Me: "Hon, do you think we should get a start on that deck?"
 Hubby: " No worries, the deck will only take a couple of hours to slap up." 
Me: " Are you sure? Looks like a job that takes more than a couple of hours."
Hubby: " Watch me."
I've been watching. For three days. Not finished. 
Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes. 

What do you do for the month of August? Swim? Camp? Holiday? 
Me? I start making notes on my calendar for the September TV line up. That's right. You're looking at a bona fide Fall couch potato. And I love my PVR.


I hate earwigs , I'm talking hate with a capital 'H'. I've sat on those vile creatures only to be pinched hard. I've happened upon colonies of them, I've had nightmares of mutated earwigs. Luckily I don't have the misfortune of their company where I live now. whew! But, as Murphy's Law would have it, I didn't go unscathed during my recent trip back 'home'. I was packing up the last of three boxes left and sure as the sun rise, I opened up a box to tape only to be scared the living shit out of me greeted back by those disgusting creatures. I screamed, my mother in law went running and the earwigs slithered to freedom. Three boxes, my peeps, three. boxes.left. ARGH

Checked my mother in law's mail box for the last time Friday, the house was packed, her suitcases in the car. The mailbox was a wee little walk down the road. I took the long way back, walking a zig zag pattern on her acre front lawn, looking at landmarks I'd seen for the last 30 years. I happened upon a surprise stash of wild raspberries. What a delicious pleasure to pick those plump red berries, the flavours dancing in my mouth. As I meandered along, I felt the ghosts of the past sidle up, the memories playing themselves out, each timed in chronological order. I saw myself as a young 18year old, fresh in a new relationship with the boy that lived in that house. I saw all our animals we've owned,running and darting, my girls chasing them,their laughter tinkling and melding with the song of the crickets. Events playing themselves out in my mind, the good, the bad, the sheer beauty of the mysteries of the area. One last time, I allowed the ghosts and the memories to bring me back. 
I squared my shoulders and with a fond smile said goodbye to that 18 year old girl who fell in love with that 20 year old boy.
I headed to the car, my mother in law locked the front door for the last time and wiping away a tear or two, we drove away leaving the past where it belonged.


Got to love hearing the words, " Ladies and Gentlemen,unfortunately we will have to taxi back to the gate due to a system malfunction. We apologize blah blah blah."
Now.. I understand malfunctions, be it wardrobe or otherwise but I'm not overly excited at an airplane 'malfunction'. But I did reach my destination safe and sound, 1 1/2 hours later.


Need a laugh?   Gridlocked, Carribean Style :-)