I haven’t seen her in years.

She had lots of feelings and happenings.


Serious lows.

Delicious highs.

The world was different.

She was different.

Perspective changes, and it’s fresh to see it.

It’s fresh to feel it too.

Everyone thought of themselves.

It was a selfish time.

And no one knew what to believe.

Because it had been confused,


Or not.

For some anger.

and a need to blame.

Others exhausted.


Some blissfully oblivious.

Late 19th.

There was Haymarket, labor unrest.

It was like this.

Or not.

No charismatic leader, right?

Maybe a hated leader,

Like now.

No social media, ergo


Biggest difference.

More of us now.

We’re the same as before.

We are alike.

We sentient beings.

My muse eludes me.





I am writing in response to Annie’s Prompt. I’ve not written a lot with visual prompts. Usually my prompts are written. So, we shall see how this goes.  I found the pic and prompt over at her blog in, Writing Outside The Lines.  Here is the prompt: (I can write about the words on a few of the rocks, or all the rocks, lots of options.


I want to talk about the colors.

The sentiments-floating or sinking.

The purple Peace is lovely.


You Are Loved

What I want to write about are my feelings right now. They are wavy and very confused and hurting in a way that feels palpable to me. Someone recently told me they appreciated my complexity. That felt comforting. I am feeling strangely determined. I am feeling hurt. It is visceral. I feel it in my heart.

If I write will I comfort myself?

I fell today


and busted my ass. It hurt like hell. I hurt my knees & then my cheek hit the asphalt. Oh, and I didn’t pass out or seize or anything. I distinctly remember my feet fumbling and the fall in detail. Every time I tried to sit up I got dizzy and couldn’t.  It still hurts and I’m going to show you a pic or you can check my twitter time line I tweeted one…

However, right now, what I’m thinking is about when people who are jaywalking or not wearing a seat belt or something else entirely uncriminal end up with their cheeks slammed to the pavement and receive not only no care, but usually at least a little more injury. No sympathy, no comfort, no feeling of safety. The whole staff at the vet’s office came out & one of the vets and tended to me. Brought me ice, called my husband, a towel for my head bc I couldn’t move. Gave me a Coke. I was dazed for a few minutes.

Tim left work and brought me home, got me situated and iced. I’m injured but great.

I can’t imagine hitting my face on the pavement like that and not being in pain and injured.

I’m thinking about how many times a day this happens to people on the streets of our country. No one gives it a thought.

Makes me hurt for our society. And ashamed I participated in letting it get this way.

So I received and read this book this weekend. It was excellent. Chris Thomas was one of the last juveniles sentenced to death in Va. He and his girlfriend murdered her parents. She was 14, he was 17. She was sent to Juvie & freed at age 21 (with no felony record), he was executed in January 2000. This took place close to where my hubby grew up. I think this book is used as a textbook in some law classes. It was very informative about Virginia’s death penalty and also very moving, a good story of redemption.

Another very interesting book I read about Virginia’s death row is Dead Run by Joe Jackson.  This chronicles the life of Dennis Stockton, who helped mastermind the infamous 1984 death row escape, although he didn’t escape himself.

I highly recommend both of these books, if you are interested in the death penalty, and its effect on, well, everyone.

I took a class on deviance at U of Richmond awhile back, and the instructor used to work at the old Penitentiary. She worked there when this escape occurred, and talked about it in class. It was so funny. A lot of the criminal cases she mentioned were events with which I was familiar. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing!

I do find human nature fascinating.

I’m using a writing prompt today!  Because my life is dull at times.  I got the prompt over at this blog.

Today’s Writing Prompt: Repentance

Is there a wrong in your past you’d like to make right?

I used to feel no regrets about my past.  Perhaps I was in denial.  I have many regrets about my past now, and I can’t believe they just popped up!

I was just thinking of this regret today.

Once a new friend confided something to me & it made me angry she hadn’t told me initially.  She had moved here from another place fairly recently.  It was during a time of deep soul searching and change in my life.  Astrologically, it was during my Saturn Return, and this time usually involves spiritual awakening, life change, etc.  I was exploring lots of spiritual practices and healing practices.  I had met this woman at one of these events.

I became angry because she confided she had moved here with a woman, in a lesbian relationship.  I didn’t have anything against that, but I was angry she hadn’t told me initially.  I wish I had handled it better.  Perhaps it brought up confusion about my own sexual identity?  I wonder this because of how angry I was.  What it felt like at the time was secret keeping, with which I knew I was uncomfortable.

I ended up validating all she feared about telling me, and we didn’t see each other again.  And, strangely, I remember very little about her or the situation, like how we parted.  It’s like a whole piece is missing, forgotten.  I felt shame over not being understanding, but what’s weird is I didn’t make it right quickly.  That’s unusual for me.  At the time, I probably wasn’t self aware enough to realize my strong reaction had much more to do with me than her.

So, there it is.  And I shall leave you with a lovely picture from when I was in Denmark.


Aren’t these gals adorable?  Love their coats.  Saw them on the street and wanted to be just like them!  Ha!

1st Post of 2013


Well, it’s been a bit rough this past several weeks because Elsie died Friday, 7 December, or early the following morning.  She ran off (something she never did) and either kept running because she panicked and couldn’t hear me calling her, or she may have run off to die.   She was found the following morning in a kind woman’s yard.  She was dirty, but no blood or appearance of having been hit.  The 2 days before she left she was drinking a lot, a whole lot, of water, and I was thinking I’d need to take her to the vet to see why.  My heart is broken, but it will heal.  I will always have her in my heart.  She loved me and I loved her and we had almost 5 wonderful years together.  RIP, my Baby Girl.  I love you forever.  You were a beautiful girl.


November 23rd


Today is my birthday.  It is my favorite day of the year.  I love the Thanksgiving holiday.  In the past,  because my birthday was around or on Thanksgiving, but now because I reflect on how very much gratitude I am blessed to possess.

I was born about 5:20 am the morning after President Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas.  That has always cast a bit of a pall and fascination around my birthday.  Strangely, 23 November was the birthday of Denise, the first wife of my husband, and Mommy of my boys.  I’ve written some about Denise or grief here, here, here and here.  Today would have been a milestone for Denise, her 50th birthday.  I feel sad for Tim, the boys, her folks and sisters, nieces and friends.

Tim and I were talking about it this morning, and he read some words to me by Kahlil Gibran, from The Prophet.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent

knowledge of the beyond;

     And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart

dreams of spring.

     Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.


     Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd

when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid

upon him in honour.

I have some friends and acquaintances with my birthday.  A few months ago we lost one, Annie Mae.  She fought cancer for 60 years!  Her kindness was renown among her friends.  I was especially attracted and amazed by her incredible kindness to children.  She made delicious chocolate pie.  She loved God, her husband, Billy, and her children.  Her soul is one of the gentlest I’ve known.

Gibran says:

For life and death are one, even as the river and sea are one.


The Henrico Citizen has this amazing piece by its managing editor, Patty Kruszewski.  She lost her daughter to a hit and run driver this year.  It captures so well the agony and, yes, joy that accompanies a tremendous loss.  The price and reward for having loved another.

Gibran tells us in The Prophet our capacity for joy is only as large as our capacity for sorrow.  The full passage is here.  I love the line “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.”  Tim and I have talked about that so much.

So, with compassion and love I’m thinking of the losses of my loved ones.  I’m thankful for my family and friends.  Life is good.