Life’s little mundane tasks.

So you have the every day job, that drives you nuts. The coworker that seems to be the boss’s favorite. You got passed up for the job because of a glitch in the system. No small relief when that employee didn’t get it either.
The kids come in with a ton of homework and complaining about teachers.
The house is covered in mud and dust the youngest is a class act mud pie maker. The dust is because you haven’t been in the house for the biggest part of two weeks except for meals.
Laundry is stacked to the ceiling because the repairman didn’t show for the washer.
You are ready to scream when you burn the best taco casserole ever.
Hubby comes in with news of a new job cause his company is shutting down. But he will go in at a higher wage and a company car.
You fight getting the kids through homework, baths and for your teenage daughter the drama of her first boyfriend.
By the end of the week. Things are beginning to fall in place. Laundry is done hubby went and bought you a new machine. The job came through for him.
The kids are scrubbed and daughter has moved on to something reasonable horses again.
You sit down to a shoulder rub and a glass of wine. And a phone call that tells you the coworker that gave you fits walked out with the copy machine repair man.
Hubby puts his arm around you gives you a kiss as the kids yell yes that you are the greatest parents ever because vacation is Disneyland.
Such is the daily mundane tasks.

Thoughts about Sunsets

I sit and wonder through the hills and valley’s of my mind and rarely make any progress as to what I am thinking about.
In the last couple of days I am continually thinking about sunsets. Why, if anyone can tell me why I’ll be glad to listen. Then I decided it maybe due to the fractured mess of the past ten days.
Sunsets can be absolutely beautiful they can be bright and sunny leaving you thinking of  bright romantic evenings.
Then there are bright orange and reds that can feel happy like clowns have decorated the sky.
The deep grays that drift into the blues of midnights with the sudden burst of
light that streaks down to the ground with a force that lights up the entire sky.
The clouds that are white and fluffy from one side and dark and foreboding as the wind gathers strength. The first huge drop of rain that gathers several of its kind together and falls to the fields below giving a nourishing drink to the earth below. Only to blow itself out and letting the sky lighten so evening can fall with a coolness that we all enjoy with a sweetness from flowers, hay and grass that’s been mown.
Sunsets are amazing works of arts. That is why they are painted so often they let your mind wonder into a world that might make you go a wandering.
(Okay so it was a bad pun. Got one better please share.)

Mother’s day

I have been at two different truck stops today. Both times I have been treated with the utmost respect. A good meal a
Discount coupon for my next meal. I was given something both times I hadn’t expected. I received two flowers both carnations. A single flower from two different waitresses. Both were working mothers. One had grown kids and the other had girls ages 4, 6, and 10.
These women who should have gotten flowers, were giving me the flowers. Oh I know that that Truck stops of America can afford it. But it still touched my heart.
I don’t have natural children of my own. It wasn’t in God’s plans for me. My husband’s boys call me mom. Which I appreciate. I love those boys as if they were my own.
I don’t regret many things in my life. I have a very blessed life. But I do regret not being able to have held a new born in my arms. Waking up to a gleeful laugh coming from a little cherub who is laughing at something only they can see. Having someone ask “why?” for the hundredth time. Watching the first steps, the first words, the first award in school.
Sorry don’t mean to get melancholy. But I do when I know I will never hear the word Mom coming to me or about me from a child of my own.
So today here is my prayer for today.
Dear Heavenly Father,
Please bless all the mother’s in this world let them know how lucky they are as parents. May they never know the ache of missing a child, for whatever reason. Amen.,

Let’s bring back innocence.

What happened to the days when you could pick up a book and not be scared of what you were getting.
The days when every book was not about sex.

What happened to the days of the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, and the Bobbsey Twins. ( showing my age here because no one will remember them but me.)

Well I believe that there is still room for innocence. I remember the first romance novel I ever read by today’s standards it was a sweet story. No sex just the couple being in love.

Back to the days before vampires, werewolves, and monsters walked at every corner.

Back to the time when the cops were tough, the booze was strong, fists were hard and a snitch was not a golden ball in a magic flying game.

Back to the days when the South was hot, the women were softer and the magnolias were always in bloom.

Back to the days when men did not “give a Damn,” when a woman who slept around was a bad girl and there were lots of things left unsaid in and out of the bedroom.

There was that sinful place at the edge of town where only the tough went. Men went to war and girls with bad reputations left town and came back stars.

Back to the days of innocent, sweet, stories. Back to the days of high school sweethearts who married and had the two point five children.

Let’s go back and bring back  the innocence of that time. When even those bad girls got to marry the nice guy. The bad guys got taken to jail and even the hard boiled cop had a  doll.

COUNTING MY BLESSINGS- Part #3 – Similiarities

People assume because we don’t understand the music. We have nothing in common in with Native Americans. I disagree and count this as a blessing . As I continue to do the studying on Spirit,both as a Christian and as someone with a deep respect of cultures lost.

I find myself thinking that it is a sad that we all don’t take a closer look at both our cultures and theirs. The above song is sung in Cheyenne. I have found nothing any more beautiful  than this version. ( Yes I realize that the are hundreds and maybe even thousands that would disagree with me. and Hey that okay. That’s what makes our land great is the fact we can have a difference of opinion.)

By the same token It is still Amazing Grace whether it in Cheyenne, On Bagpipes, on American Flute, Celtic or whatever version you love. The rich history/cultures of our country are being lost.

Now I am not Native American in any way shape or form and I am not here to get into political debates on what was or what will be or should have been. My Great Great Great uncle Henry H. Cross was an Indian Painter. Most of his works are on exhibit at the Gilchrist Museum in Tulsa Oklahoma. (And if you call a head before you go they will tell you when they will be on exhibit.) Having grown up with these paintings I have looked into the face of a Painting (that now hangs in my sister’s house.) That painting is of a Chief by the name of (I hope I get this right) Ha-Pinka-paw Harness ( And I truly pray that I have that correct because the last thing I would want to do is dishonor the Chief) You see he has served as protector of our house for more years than I can remember. He (always to me at least)seemed so sad. As if he was losing his family or tribe. His face with deep lines  and those ever watching eyes.

If I could do one thing in my life. I would like to know more about the Chief in the picture. The rumor of him being one of the twelve that were hung at the time of the Indian Wars has never been confirmed.  To me he is a man of great strength and sadness.

But isn’t that true of all cultures. We decide to stand up for something and it seems the minute we do, we find people trying to stop us or trying to take something away. Just like the true forefathers of this country, they were here before the founding Father’s and they will be here long after the immigrants  are gone.

so as a blessing I look to the fine heritage of  the people that were here before the founding fathers that put Washington on the Map. I am thankful that I have had the ability to see that we are different but Deep down inside we are still the same. We all worship a Spirit, (Holy Spirit) We pray to our God, and all hope for a better future for all of the cultures on this great nation.

No place for a dreamer.

Her parents told the little girl:
You can be anything you want. You can grow up to be president, congress and God Forbid a Democrat .
You can do anything you want as long as you listen to us.
You can do anything you like as long as it falls into the guidelines and you become just like your sister the nurse,lawyer, doctor. But you can’t be a dreamer.

We can’t have you embarrassing us. So get out of the book and do your homework.
Practice your instrument, Do the dishes but don’t waste your time with having an imagination.
That will never get you anywhere in life. Look at that child he/or she is nothing but a dreamer,
She’ll never amount to anything. You just have to stay on her at all times or she’ll will be nothing but trouble.

Who would have believed it She has dreamed herself right into the movies, a television career, she has published a book. she just solved the crime of the century. He is a federal agent.
Who would have believed it. She is walking the stage for her Oscar.
You know she wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without her parents and family pushing her.

She was always such a dreamer. She never comes home she is just a ungrateful child. Oh she ran away a long time ago. Drugs I think, I heard she’s living in some fancy place out west.
Oh no, don’t you know the only fancy place she is living in is the mental hospital .

Well she always was a dreamer. You can’t do anything with these kids these days. Dreamers just don’t live up to expectations. Well excuse me. She couldn’t live up to expectations that were so high that she couldn’t hit the mark. her sister is the lawyer and her brother is a doctor.
OH Yes, her sister became a lawyer after having two kids by the time she was nineteen. Her brother the doctor was hurt when the meth lab he and a friend blew up killing the friend.

You dare to put her down for being a dreamer. What did she ever do so horrible but want to act, want to write, want to dance, or write music. But she was a dreamer and there is no place in our lives for dreamers.

New author no support.

I stay in contact with one or two younger authors that are just starting out. One asked me not to use her name she has her contract but has not picked the name she is using to publish under yet. And the second woman like me Isn’t worried about things.

The debate in question was and I quote “Why is it so hard for new authors to get  reviews to help them out. Jane told me that she can’t even get her sister to read her book. And Terri (the lady with the contract) said that she had lots of critique  buddies so she has lots of review help.

In my own experience I seem to have people that are buying my book but don’t want to help by putting up a review? I have even gone as far as (like any author) and bought the books and sent the books out for review and still nothing.

Jane believes that it is because family don’t want to believe that the person has done well. Terri thinks it’s pure shock that a new author has got the contract to begin with.

Well I don’t have critique partners because I drove semi and  never got to join a critique group because I never felt it was right that someone would help me and then me not be able to participate fully with the group.

So how does one motivate people to review?
Time money and effort or pure tenacity?

Thoughts, discussion or how about a mud flinging contest?