The End (a poem of fleeting disappointment)

the lonely pearl bead
nestled so nonchalantly
in the folds of your tired sheets
was
          not
                   mine

Dear Abby: Salute to dad shared by all on Father’s Day

Dear Abby: Salute to dad shared by all on Father’s Day

I wrote this about a month before Father's Day and never expected it to be published.  My sister in law, Bev, called me to see if I had written it.  Dad got to hear his tribute before he passed away.

My New Theme Song - from the intro to Malcolm In the Middle

You have to imagine me singing this very loudly, fist pumping, and dancing about in the apartment, terrifying the cats. It's my war dance.

Divorce, Again. (Oh Happy Day)

Well, no one ever said Life in the Giggleweeds would be easy, did they? The first time I was married nine years. This time, I've been married almost twenty-three. My youngest child kept me hanging in there as I certainly didn't want to divorce his dad with him stuck in the middle as a "Prize," (which is often how children are treated - as common chattel - in a divorce.) I agreed to wait until his senior year was over to make my escape. I'm glad I waited for him to be ready to go off to college.

Now, why I've waited an entire year to begin the proceedings, is beyond me. Oh, yeah, it's the money thing. Duh.

As I said, "Oh Happy Day!"

It's the End of the World As We Know It...

IT'
s
THE
end of the
WORLD
as We KNOW it
and I

FEEL FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ground Zero or Ground to Zero (On Becoming Soylent Pink)

Ground Zero.  When I was a kid, I was sure my family (in Miami, during the Cuban Missile Crisis) would be fully destroyed by a nuclear weapon.  The "hide under the desk and be vaporized plan," I understood.  I would have less meaning than the gum stuck under that desk when it was all over.  I begged my Dad to build an underground bunker to protect us, but he used a post hole digger to show me the water table was less than 4' beneath our feet.  So much for a concrete bunker.  Still, he reassured me that my world would not end then and he was right.

Today, I'm 58, not 6 anymore.  The world is supposed to come to some change December 21, 2012 based on the Mayan calendar.  Well here we go again, except, I don't much care about such prognostications, except, maybe that I might not be able to retire.  To quit my job, not get up at six a.m. every freaking day, only to work like crazy and fall behind, no matter my best efforts.  Honestly, I can't keep up.  Every day the world goes on, I'm being ground like hamburger.  The best parts of me are being lost, every day: My humanity, my compassion for others, my patience, my kindness.  Only my dark sense of humor remains.

When my children read this, if they ever do, I hope they know I have loved them beyond their ken.  That their lives, their dreams and aspirations have kept me going beyond everything I ever thought I was capable of.  I want to tell them too, that this drive in me came directly from my parents and the grand-parents who have nurtured and loved me through my life.  Especially my Dad, who gave me an enduring belief in tomorrow.

Nine Meals Away from Anarchy – Bloggers Weigh In on Tonight’s New Episode of Doomsday Preppers

Nine Meals Away from Anarchy – Bloggers Weigh In on Tonight’s New Episode of Doomsday Preppers

I'd rather be at ground zero than submit to these pitiful plans.