Category: roadmaps to home

How Do You Spell WEDNESDAY?

My daughter decided today that she wants to have a party, at our house, next Wednesday. For her whole class. That meant, of course, that she had to start making invitations this morning when she was really supposed to be preparing herself to be school bound. There are plenty of little tidbits to talk about here, aside from the fact that we’re not having a party and … Read More How Do You Spell WEDNESDAY?

Out-Smarting the Conveyor Belt

I used to think life held some great destination that I was going to arrive at one day and have it all figured out. I had a mental list of things that needed to be checked off and then somehow I was going to stop growing. Because I had gotten there. Or something weird like that. I don’t even know that girl anymore. I am so aware … Read More Out-Smarting the Conveyor Belt

Love > Markers

O lover of sweet treats and markers; I am a lover of you. Even with your guilty face and conniving ways my heart is sold to “and when I get back in here let me see all the colors laid out and ready for me” and “when I put this broom away I will take some money and a sweet treat” and “wow, so … Read More Love > Markers

Melting Into Me

Does too much to say make the saying harder to come by? Have you consigned your will to create with the words that entice you or are they challenging you to do more and better, forcing you to feel deeper and stronger? You don’t know how to write yourself out of what you have fallen into so you simply stop writing because, maybe, if … Read More Melting Into Me

Lotta Sorta Kinda

Lot of tiredLot of 2nd grade crying followed byLot of lecturing on when crying is and is not effective and acknowledgedWith examples…Lot of great homeworkLot of togethernessLot of flag football lovin’Little of mom actually playing footballLot of praise on my skills (throwing not catching, just to be clear he says)Lot of screams from the pig upstairsLot of ignoring of the pig by its ownerLittle … Read More Lotta Sorta Kinda

Outside In

You, my child. You are before me with eyes wide open and I search myself for what it means to raise you. Love over contempt, action over apathy, acceptance over fear. We teach by example, you and I; learning through each day we are allowed another opportunity. I and you –  anger and retract, push and apologize, cry and try harder. I see me in you … Read More Outside In

we

it is me. most definitely, me. who is confusing, even to, myself. still, you have desire. of. none. for me… not the me, of now, for she – in all of her she-ness… is a trigger.  that. ignites within… you (she hates that). we have taken the worst, of us… to display in all ways, to us… you, and me, we. never. planned. this. … Read More we

mentor me tomorrow or always

I have been remiss in my writing.  I have no excuse other than one that is fabulous:  I have too many passions.  I am and have been trying my gosh-darndest to devote equal love to each on a daily basis but I am, as I have always been, a work in progress. I could spend each moment of my existence happily floating amongst the … Read More mentor me tomorrow or always

taxi cab from monterey

i want to tic with kerouac in the shiveringest of places. mind does not matter if mind is over matter. that place. i see him.  i feel me there.  i sense him beside me; red wine exhales and musty clothing. he is my breath, my thoughts, my words. i understand; no explanation extended. i just simply do.  

selfie

arms grasping at time- soundtracks; roadmaps; endless photographs scribbling frenzies to fill pages with- hold this moment; love intensely; let it go

cranberries

pain in the deepest blue-gray swell of ocean crashing on cliffs and exploding in my head. beg to leave, go, settle into calm, peaceful sky but no.  medicate without true placation i breathe in and breathe out mindful of each ocurence as it needles and gnaws, clawing at each part of my body wearing me down to nothing more than a staccato reaction of … Read More cranberries

crash

Saturday morning.  Sunrise.  White froth thrown from cliff-crashing waves dances before me, as if to say ‘Good Morning’. Sun threatens to pierce through the morning clouds – her hue sure to influence the direction of my thoughts. I am the grand crash splashing myself about the rocks; the uneven yet consistent tide; the fluid combination of darkness and light. Leather & Lace. These cliffs … Read More crash