IF Zeus chose us a King of the flowers in his mirth, He would call to the rose, and would royally crown it; For the rose, ho, the rose! is the grace of the earth, Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it! For the rose, ho, the rose! is the eye of the flowers, Is the blush of the meadows that feel themselves fair, Is the lightning of beauty that strikes through the bowers On pale lovers that sit in the glow unaware. Ho, the rose breathes of love! ho, the rose lifts the cup To the red lips of Cypris invoked for a guest! Ho, the rose having curled its sweet leaves for the world Takes delight in the motion its petals keep up, As they laugh to the wind as it laughs from the west.
This is what I do when I don't feel like doing anything......
I Am: searching for the meaning of life I Want: more than I am permitted to have I Have: too much on my plate I Wish: I could have my cake and eat it too. But doesn't everyone? I Fear: change (no I did not vote for Obama) I Hear: nothing...for once my world is quiet I Search: for peace and simplicity I Wonder: will life always be a struggle? I Regret: leaving my brother to die alone I Love: warm summer nights, and full moons on an Ohio lake I Always: take my medicine when I should...be glad, be very very glad! I Usually: think about it too much I Am Not: athletic I Dance: like a white girl I Sing: when I know the words to the song I Never: eat mushrooms or tomatoes, though I eat tomato products I Rarely: sleep more than two hours at a time...makes for a very tired girl I Cry: lately much too often I Am Not Always: this morose I Need: to cheer up I Should:be shelving books. But what the hell, this is more fun!
I stole this from Polergirl. Feel free to steal it from me.
Boxes...I used to collect them. I had boxes of all kinds and sizes. They were cardboard mostly...corrugated and flat, large and small, rectangled and square, shipping and clothing...you name I had it. For you never knew when you were going to need a good box.
These boxes overran the attic and were probably a fire hazard. So the day came when there was a culling of the boxes. I was permitted to keep only those that were the cream of the box crop. Only those that were absolutely the best of the best were allowed to continue to stay in the attic. The rest were relegated to the curb.
Boxes...I still collect them. I have boxes of all kinds. But these boxes are very different than the cardboard boxes of the past. I don't store them in the attic of my home...I store them in a different vessel...they overrun my mind.
In these boxes I store the ghosts of the past. I keep the lids on tight, bound shut with pretty ribbons tied nice and taut and arranged into the most beautiful of bows. They are stacked nicely, these boxes...orderly and neatly all their rightful place, deep in the dark recess of my mind...never to be opened.
I don't often talk about the contents of these boxes. Ghosts are better left undisturbed, don't you agree? I mean I am going through life most of the time pretty okay. No one has had to wipe drool off my chin yet...I haven't been caught picking lint out of my belly button more than once in the last month or so. Why unleash the past if I am moving through the present with little difficulty I ask?
But there are those who disagree with me. Those who think I am not moving through the present as easily as I think I am. Those who think the contents of the boxes may have something to do with life's current events. You know the Quagmire, the Cold, the Hunger, etc.
So it has been suggested that I should gently tug on the end of the ribbons and unfurl the bows, and peel off the lids of these boxes of mine. These individuals think that I should peek inside the boxes and let the ghosts out....face them head on. Then maybe I could free up some space in my mind and my belly button.
But I am not brave enough to do this alone. Ghosts of the past are very scary.
So...I now have a bobble-head. You know, someone you pay to nod their head while you sit there and talk about your boxes and the ghosts of the past. This one isn't so much of a nodder as a 'oh my father was just like that'. I want to say, "this isn't about the box your father is in, it is about the box my father in!" But I don't...I just smile and nod and think about how much it is costing me.
Hey wait...maybe I am the bobble-head and she should be paying me!
Boxes...I think they are better left with the lids on.
There is nothing quite as soothing for the soul as a trip to the aquarium. I could sit all day and watch the life in the sea. This is just a smattering of what I got to see at the Newport, Ky. Aquarium. I was so intrigued with these amazing creatures, I talked the hubby into setting up a tank of our own.
Stay tuned for pictures of my venture into the aquatic life at a later date. It is quite complicated to get started!
So how does life find you at the mid point of winter? What is it you are hoping for this year? What is it you are seeking most, Shutter Sisters asks us? Give them a peek into something you most desire.
Here is an impromptu photo I made showing you what it is I desire most this year and hopefully for a long time coming. And no Miss America, I am not talking about world peace, albeit that would be nice. I am talking about the kind that will settle upon me like a warm soft blanket on a cold winter's night. Now it is your turn.
We all know what you do with when life hands you lemons...Brigid certainly has some creative methods. But what do you do when life gives you these?
Well, you can throw them in the trash or you can add some butter, sugar, eggs and various other ingredients...put it all in a Bundt pan and about an hour later end up with this. Oh, and the stuff in the middle is a homemade carmel sauce to top it all off.
Don't we wish we could turn all of our outdated, overripe, used up situations into something so tantalizing?
I don't have a My Space or a Face Book but I do have this blog. I don't identify myself by my real name or my city, just my state. I am careful about to whom I give this site. I try to protect those I write about by not identifying them by name.
With that being said, I am sure there are those who read this that have figured out who I am. Of course there are those who know who I am. I also am out there as someone who works in education and one who is a second amendment supporter and a lover of things that go BANG!
This is for those of you who think you might dare to challenge my right to own guns and work in my field of passion...I FUCKING dare you. IT IS MY RIGHT and I will own you!
I hope the teacher in this story has the same attitude and sues the pants off the district that has done this to her as well as the "concerned colleague" that brought it to their attention.
Don't mess with my passion or my guns...they are one and the same!
I sat staring out the car window watching Mother Nature wield her paint brush across the sky at sunset last night. Beautiful strokes of crimson, goldenrod, and apricot surrounded by shades of blues.
Sunsets...endings I think, beautiful endings to days that often hold truths I don't want to face, yet am forced to.
I wondered if I, like Mother Nature, am capable of painting a new sky? And will it change daily as hers does? What will it look like? What colors will I paint on the canvas that is my future? What pigments will spring forth from my soul?
Will my brush stroke the rough surface with colors bright and hues happy? Or will I seek shades of darkness, painting the heavens desolate and bleak? Will the clouds toil among themselves in playful patterns of ghostly apparitions? Or will there be dark tones of black and grey as if evil is about to burst from the earth's atmosphere?
I am in control of my canvas...I have come to realize that. The shock is gone. The panic has subsided. Decisions have to be made. I have the brush in my hand and the canvas is blank...it is up to me to decide how the finished product will look.