Grab me a pen, give me some paper…

•October 6, 2015 • 17 Comments


Kind of sounds important, doesn’t it?  Don’t be fooled.  If by the second paragraph I remember why I sat down to write this, we’ll both eat cake.

Oh, it was about the weather.  WAIT!  That’s simply unjust, mean and cruel.  I saw the news today and my heart breaks for those of you in North Carolina, upstream, as well as downstream.  Let’s wander elsewhere.  Shall we?  Yes, we shall.

I spent three full days in bed making Pom-Poms out of tissues.  And not intentionally.  “No, Martha, I did not use your official cut-and-twist guide.”  I fashioned mine while I tried building a dam to nowhere, for my sinus drainage.   I took my temperature so many times I killed the battery in the thermometer.  I’ve never slept so many hours in my life!  This comes from someone who suffers extreme bits of insomnia.  Food?  I found two cans of soup at the back of the cupboard, and considering we don’t eat processed canned items I can’t help but wonder where they came from, much less, why I consumed them.

I’d had enough of this Chit, so by 10:00 a.m., I drug my lazy self out of bed and into the steaming shower, threw on some clothes and asked Hannah if she’d like to go for a walk.

I thought I’d heard a lot of commotion over the roar of my blow dryer, but I wasn’t in the mood to go ‘seek-and-find,’ what all the mischief was.  Once dressed, and out the door, I looked up the street to see the fire truck.  What the heck?!#&@

Okay, right off the bat I have to confess.  I’m not into seeking out horror.  I can’t handle it. Put me in a car, drive me down the freeway and have someone shout, “Look!  There’s been a car accident!”  What do I do?  Slither down in my seat and turn my head in the opposite direction.  If I’m the one who happens to be driving, you won’t find me rubbernecking.


Where was I going with this?


The Walk…(and not on the wild side.)

Finally, upon our way, and we journey toward the coffee shop.  I realize I can’t enter, doggie and all, but then I remember the new app I have downloaded on my phone.  Hannah and I mosey up to the patio and sit down.  Attempting to order, I realize this app needs a few software upgrades, but I’m not in the mood to hack up the menu in broad daylight, much less try to find a work-around on the stores wi-fi firewall.  Dang, I can’t just walk away, the pup is looking at me with those sweet, begging eyes as if to ask, “How much longer, Mummy?”

Thinking comes quick when smitten by man’s best friend.  I lasso a chair with her harness and tie the pup securely to it, placing her in full view of any area I’ll find myself at once inside the store.

Entry.  Order.  Exit.  (Prayers answered that no one kidnapped my doggie!)

IMG_1575 IMG_1584

…..Admit it, you’re just a wee bit bored, but you just can’t seem to pull yourself away from all the action. Consider yourself a rubbernecker and let’s get moving…..

We are at a junction in the road.  If we take the route we came, we’re out 1.5 miles, but if we journey the alternate route we are out 1.5 miles.  Decisions, decisions, oh, and the trick math question at the end.  (Find your calculators.)

Let’s go rogue.  I’m caffeinated and jet-packed by toxic chemicals from eating rancid soup. What could go wrong?

The Traffic Light!…(into the jungle)

Sucker must have been rigged for red-light runners!  Hannah and I were caught in the median of a crazed intersection.  Everyone dreams of a cuppa joe or a fuel tank of $2.35 gasoline.  I think the only thing that saved us was my California Highway Patrol t-shirt my son (in-law) gave me.  I looked OFFICIAL!

Okay, I was only a third grey, now color me white-headed.  I match the dog now.  Lesson learned:  Rubberneckers.  “You folks are everywhere!”  One of you almost put tire tracks on my bright orange and pink sneakers.  Tell the truth, “We’re you wanting my eye color or that close-up of fear earmarked across my face?”

…..This painstakingly will end at some point.  Why don’t you take a snooze and check back later for the mischief of the last mile and a half?….

Safely upon green space, we walk among the oak trees listening to the sound of acorns dropping in our midst.  (Note to self:  Bring bike helmets in the future.)  Meandering along and I look up to see we are at the high school.  My heart skips a beat, and then another. “Wasn’t it just yesterday?”  Oh how time does fly.  But I won’t let this moment go.  I grab my phone and take a couple of photos.  I zip them off to my two beautiful daughters.  They’ll open their messages and go back in time themselves.  I wonder at what moments their day will stand still?  I knew mine.  I know it well.  I’ll cherish it forever.

There I sat awaiting the dismissal bell.  The bell echoes.  Oh, I miss that bell.  I miss all the ringing of that far off bell.


Saturday my youngest daughter moves away from home.  Off to her grown up home.  Not a dorm room, no, those days are gone, too.  There’s part of me that wants her to go, but then there is that part of me that knows how far away she may one day travel.  And yet, I must give her the pieces of the apron strings, the wings to fly, to soar, to dream and dare.

Did anyone find me a pen and some paper?  Did you find your calculators?  Get ready, here she blows:

If I live 1.5 miles in one direction, yet I am able to travel in an opposing direction 1.5 miles and arrive at my origination, what direction am I traveling?

Hey, it’s a trick question.  ;)



Yesterday’s Mischief Makers…

•September 23, 2015 • 16 Comments

We set off to run errands. Hannah errands, actually. I should just admit that some days I simply say to hell with the housework, laundry included, and I put my best friend in the car and we set about finding mischief.

We ran thru CVS drive-through to pick up some of my meds and to beg for the usual dog biscuit. FAIL! They were out of treats.

Starbucks redeemed her spirit though when they gave her a Puppy Whip. It’s a small cup container filled with whipped cream.

Across the railroad tracks and we head into Southlake. The outdoor shopping mall is always fun. There are fountains galore and hundreds of shade trees. Unfortunately they have no outdoor drinking fountains. Hannah drank a bit of my iced tea as I cursed myself for not having brought along her collapsible water bowl and some water. Finally, I recalled the Whole Earth Provisions Store allows dogs in their store. I took my girl in and she made a group of newly found friends, all human and eager to dote upon her. Someone snagged a dog treat for her and everyone took turns petting her.

This picture was actually taken a bit earlier. We visited Three Dog Bakery before our walking pursuit. Seems they are in the process of doing a Facebook gallery and they wanted her photo. I expressed sadness that I’d miss seeing her posted and that’s when they kindly asked for my email so they could send her posting to me.

The girl is worn out. Now resting with a full tummy of treats and back inside to the cooled air conditioning.


"Yummy for my tummy!"

“Yummy for my tummy!”


“Hi, my name is Hannah. Let me teach you about life:  Give a dog a bone and they will follow you home.” …words of wisdom brought to you thru Hannah’s, yet to be written book, Canine Collections.

Sent from my iPad

Coffeegrounded and FloridaBorne

•September 21, 2015 • 6 Comments

Seize the day if the opportunity ever presents itself! Yesterday I visited with a dear friend and blogger over tea, soup, and of course, coffee. FloridaBorne lives in Florida, and I can be found at the nearest coffee station close to the tarmac of DFW airport.


Please scroll down to the ‘View Original’ wording.

In reblogging, I’m unable to change FloridaBorne’s formatting, but once you get to that area, you can read without supersonic readers.


Two on a Rant


After several days fighting off strep with antibiotics that would choke a horse, I am back among the living (sort of).  

Coffeegrounded and I planned to meet on Saturday, but my daughter would’ve had to peel me out of bed and carry me into the restaurant.   It wasn’t that we were concerned someone might mistake me for a dead body and call a coroner, but that I would pass along strep to a whole bunch of people who didn’t deserve that level of bacterial hell.

We were going to meet 1/2 way between Dallas and Oklahoma City.  Instead, one of the kindest people I know drove 2 1/2 hours to meet me at a Pandera in OKC.

 This was the first time we met in person.  We sipped on soup and talked for 3 hours as if we were old friends.

Kudos to my daughter, who sat alone for 3…

View original post 78 more words

September is Suicide Prevention/Awareness Month

•September 17, 2015 • 32 Comments

Dedicated to Prescilla

If you’re a regular reader of my blog you have most likely heard me refer to depression from time to time, namely, my personal journey with this heinous and insidious monster.

Many people find it taboo to discuss it openly, especially if it hits a bit too close to home. Shame and stigma are the calling cards of Mental Illness

(“Oh my God, what happens if someone I know reads my wife’s blog?”)

(“Why on earth would my daughter-in-law publicly embarrass me like this, OMG!”)

(“How can I distance myself, scrub this embarrassment from my social world?”)

Well, maybe they really pay me no mind and all of this is just a figment of my imagination, or maybe I’m cautiously reminded of words that bounced about the room, a finger pressed into my chest as I was taunted over how ridiculously embarrassing and cruel I was to put my family through so much shame…

Perhaps?  Maybe?

Okay.  All of that is forgiven.  Truly it is.   But I’m humanly flawed and will never forget the biting sting of those words.  However, I do want to thank you for toughening up my edges!  I learned I could unintentionally embarrass you without embarrassing myself.  I could learn to love being a failure because it taught me something greater.  It taught me about true success, the kind that no one can rob from me or take credit for.  You showed me that conditional love is not love, and how it varies so greatly from true love.  I learned that the unconditional item respects both parties, and garners hope and courage for the long haul. I would learn where it exists, understand that it never comes under question or doubt and that it builds unbreakable bonds that will stand the test of time.

Yes, I wish I could twinkle fairy dust and wave a magical wand, but I am powerless to do so. Just as powerless as I was to succumb to this aberrant behavior, disease, condition, genetic coding, or whatever the hell it is, or why it is.  I’d love to simply do a Donald Trump comb-over and hide the whole damn mess for any and all of us.  It is simply a reality that exists, and sadly it hits home for more people than some of us realize.

It isn’t pretty.  It’s certainly not something anyone would wish upon even their worst enemy.  It’s heartbreaking, life-taking to some, and a very real day-to-day struggle for all that are affected.

September is Suicide Prevention/Awareness Month.  Will you consider that someone you know is hiking a treacherous trail and you may be their one and only lifeline?

You are more important than you realize.  Don’t discount your importance even if you find mental illness difficult to understand.  You very well could be the difference between hope and hopelessness.  Do you understand your potential, the power you hold by learning to overcome shame and stigma?

A survivor does.  We know how education opens the world to understanding the complexities of the human condition.  Your eyes are upon us, our hope is that you will help us break the cycle of stigma and shame.




We Own the Night

•September 12, 2015 • 15 Comments

What if mayhem broke thru and shattered the stillness of your night?  If mortar shells began an assault, shattering the concrete abutments that once provided silence and freedom from unexpected terrors…

Would you gather belongings in your haste, or would your fear consume you to the point of utter distraction and tear you out upon the street, running aimlessly?

Your neighbors, would you gather around their doors in hopes of securing numbers in safety?  Could you contain your panic and focus on necessities needed to insure hope with your unexpected travel?

What would you bring into that horrid rampage of the night?  Shoes, water, fuel?  So many things to consider, such little time to think.  The seconds explode upon the clock face, panic ensues and tears flow heavily down the screaming faces.

I think about the refugees’ fleeing those war-torn countries.  Fleeing through the night, hoping against hope that those they meet at the border bring promise of shelter, food, water…

Or is there a tent city, a train, razor wire and an onslaught of interrogations fueled with mistrust and burgeoning burdens too great to endure this massive refugee count?

Are these fleeing from the night simply fleeing from one to another?

The mere thought of their exodus conjures up visions of those trains boarded, families separated.  Dark journeys, unknown destinations.  False promises.  Dead ends…

I read about, The Death Camps in my innocence of youth.  I learned of them in the safety of a harbor where food and water were aplenty.  These were stories of unknown terror, read while I wrapped myself within my blanket of safety.  I look around me.  Comfort within my zone.  I am helpless to help and so I write…

This is a note to those who traverse a landscape amidst the agonizing anxieties of the unknowns that await them…

I fear for all of us.  Whether you wish to accept this or not, each and everyone of us have a responsibility to look at the direction our footwork takes us…

This is the night we must acknowledge.  We own the night.

Benghazi – 9/11/2012

•September 10, 2015 • 2 Comments

Source: Benghazi – 9/11/2012

International Literacy Day 2015: About That 16%

•September 8, 2015 • 5 Comments

A beautiful reminder of how we can each impact the world. Bring hope to those who believe there is none, open a book before them and teach them how distance is not measured by miles or kilometers, but by their entrance upon the landscape when measured through knowledge.