The Town Hall Meeting

This was not my first and probably won’t be my last. My husband, myself, and a friend, walked out, when one of the commissioners touted his insights on the situation. He was more than I could bear.

The lights bounced of his bald head, as he sniveled and whined his opinions. His mannerisms were authoritative and condescending. His name is Chapman. His words were so disruptive to my inner universe that he transformed into a movie character; one that you know is going to have something bad happen to him, before the film ends. And when it does, the audience will feel grateful. It’s appropriate karma. Continue reading “The Town Hall Meeting”

Sunday Morning

not coming down

I use to love the song, about waking up on a Sunday morning, with no way to hold my head up – having a beer for breakfast and dessert. Not having any clean clothes and stumbling through the day. I related.

Sunday’s were bad. It took me years to surrender to a Sunday. The sidewalks roll up. The only drug deals on a Sunday are a rip off. Such as, puchasing a twenty dollar piece of soap. Continue reading “Sunday Morning”

Appreciation Dinner

An expression of gratitude.

Last night I attended a dinner, for the owners and members, of my Crossfit box – 32034.  The food was good, everyone looked great. Beaming faces, with bright eyes, long lashes and big smiles, were on every body present. I felt honored to be a part of.

Luke and Erin Riddell are the owners and coaches of a new box on Amelia Island.

After we ate and socialized, they got up and gave a talk about what their Crossfit Box meant to them. Yes, it’s about health and fitness, but it’s also about community and being a better person.

In their prayers, they had asked for thirty members. And as stewards they would assist the members to be able to go out and be lights in the community.

The evening had a feeling of warmth, and a nurturing family.

I needed that.

Jesus loves me, and they love me.

Crossfit 32034!

This is Not a Dress Rehearsal

It’s My Life

At my last attempt at writing, I posted my previous life’s commentary, in a short and incomplete manner. I have a plethora of questions going around a race track at a syrupy slow pace. I tell me self to not think. It was too much for me, so I found a positive image and slapped it on the page.  Continue reading “This is Not a Dress Rehearsal”