Tag: love

Hope

Hope can be tricky.

You hope to catch a fish. You hope the rain holds off. You hope your house is still standing when you return home. You hope your mother loves you. You hope that someone will love you. You hope for the health and wealth of your young ones. You hope that your family will find peace and love and fun. You hope that all the finances you have acquired will last you throughout your life. You hope that you don’t lock your keys in your car. You hope that your confidant stays true. You hope that the love you put forth in the world will be reciprocated. You hope that your new found sobriety will bring you closer to your family. You hope people will treat you right. You hope for your safety on the road. You hope to get your work done before you die. You hope that hope is hope, but hope is expectation. Hope in one hand and defecate in the other and see which one produces. Who is hope? Where did hope come from. She lingered in Pandora’s box. A glittery, tingly, flighty, thing. Curious. Don’t open the box. But yet it was. And all the evils flew through the air. They jetted to Mars. They dug tunnels. Once the lid is open it can not be shut. Ever. I hoped for a family. I hoped for a new life. I jumped into hope and summer salted, a tumultuous life. I hope that the good people in the hospital did not pull the plug on my son. I hope he was not alive when I heard him crying in the morgue.
I have dallied and danced with hope. I have been the quintessential fool. I don’t hope. I know better. And yet I hope. Hope whispers in my ear. I hope I don’t fall off that mountain top. I hope I catch that wave. I hope for peace and tranquility. I still see the doctor talking to my daughter, her body riddled with cancer. Like the con man that he is, offering her hope. He won her hope to view her cancer. To get a look into her body

He bought the car his daughter, Hope had hoped for. A BMW.

Hope has wings. Hope flitters and tickles.

Hope – meet work.
Hope – meet patience.
Hope – meet perseverance.

Hope meet God.

Hope – close your eyes.

Hope – step into the abyss Miss.

And KNOW that you can fly.

Good morning – I hope you have a good day.

El Mar = Vida

Daily writing prompt
How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?
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This is a loaded question. I can say no, but I’m not stiff with my time. I go with the flow. An eclectic cartesian point rules my world. It points towards the sea. Everything else is what happens while I create my goals. Giving my time is Love.

Who am I?

Daily writing prompt
What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?
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To continue to write. To write better. To learn. I have been studying social justice. It’s been an underlying theme in my life. I have found myself at odds with people in Jacksonville FL concerning race issues. I seek peace. Discovering Thomas Sowell has been a huge plus. I would like to enroll at the University of Peace, here in Costa Rica. One term, one class. Conflict Resolution. My main opposition often insults the poor and uneducated. I don’t want to do battle. There has to be a better way. A higher road.

I am a Cracker by Birth, A Redneck by Default, and a Peace Seeker Through Reading Writing and Education.

5-25-2020

What part of normal is worth rushing back to?

All of my photos. All, of the waves, I’ve ridden. The numerous adventures that I have been on. They seem distant and unreal.

But right now, I have more important things to do.

I am huddled up and hunkered down, with my daughter and my husband. We are on an adventure of sorts. All time, is a happening. Moments and events to be remembered.

From past experiences, I know, that what I want to return to, is no longer there. Dreams are eroded, repeatedly. But that has never stopped me from creating more.

When your glass castle, becomes concrete. Sit on it. It will soon turn to illusion.

Life

As a child, whenever my father was unhappy with me, and I would try to explain myself, he would ferociously say that there were no excuses.

I believe there are excuses.  Continue reading Life

Maintain a Blog

blog phot

To maintain a blog was advice, on how to be a professional photographer, from one of those many “how to” cyber sites. I did get some good ideas from my reading. It’s just that, I know, I am not able, to follow the advice. My lifestyle leads itself to the impossible, on one hand, and endless possibilities on the other. My life is a lazy, busy, intricate web of photography, nature, and people. Every day brings about different colors, cultures, animals and moods. The one consistent is, there is no consistence.  Continue reading Maintain a Blog

Step 12

Step twelve is the top of the stairway. The spiritual principle of this step is love; unconditional love. It requires a large helping of patience, love and tolerance, for others and ourselves. Life is not easy. Accepting others is not always easy. It’s hard to love the unloveable. But the rewards of reaching out and seeing things through, with those that we love and those that need our help, are immeasurable.

Step Twelve

Hilda JoAnn

This is my mother, Hilda JoAnn. Today is her birthday. I’m thinking of her. I am proud to be a part of her lineage. She was, “born at the right time”. Which was December 27th, 1933. She flew away, January 16th 2007.

I use to dream of Julie Andrews being my mother. I just knew, that if she were my mother, I would be so happy. And, of course, I would have a wonderful voice. Life would be a musical.

Being Hilda’s daughter, was kind of like being in a chorus line. She was our leader and we were all her followers, but I couldn’t dance and I couldn’t sing.

My mother was a phenomenal woman. She was Irish Catholic. She got married at the age of fourteen, had five children, and made a fortune. How did she do that?

She lived with my father, until widowed. They were a team. I watched them work, play, laugh, and fight together. They played a lot of cards. She took us to church, but didn’t go, until the end of her life. She waited on the priest to receive her rights, before she would leave.

She answered the altar call, when we went to hear Joel O’Steen preach. She acted like it was a convenient time to stretch her legs. She wasn’t fooling me.

She told me, that no matter how bad things are; the sun will rise again in the morning.

She had, what people would call, a good attitude.

She also said, “if you don’t have something good to say about someone, then don’t say it at all.”~ she practiced that.

She was smart. She must have been. Having limited formal years of school, she was educated. She was an avid reader. I never knew, until I was grown, that when she was in her reading chair; she had ear plugs in. I told you she was smart.

She wasn’t scared of Y2k. She knew her math. She owned paper, and pencil.

She outran the IRS, but they caught her, after her death.

I never saw a grey hair in her head.

I believe my mother was a great example, of being dealt the hand called life, and playing it well.

She gave me my love of the ocean.

So, I surf. Who needs to sing?

P.S. She was a good cook.

P.S.S. She was a great cook.