I Am Not… I Am…

I am not a hand-covered giggle…

I am a low, husky, evil-coated chuckle.

I am not a soft-petaled rose, dainty & fragrant.

I am a dandelion, feral, rugged, considered by some a weed, by some a flower, & by some just a pest. But I am nearly impossible to eradicate, have a zillion purposes & manage to find ways to pop up everywhere I want to, & some places that seem impossible. I am ninja that way.

I am not a 4-star restaurant, catering to the rich & famous, with French cuisine, linen napkins & tiny servings of impossible to pronounce foods.

I am a Mom&Pop diner, serving comfort food, barely making ends meet, serving meals to homeless folks on a picnic table out back when I get a free minute, because I can’t stand to see hungry faces.

I am not an average day at the beach. (ha-ask around, the laughter will tell you)

I am a slow wander through a darkened forest, with a very high chance of getting lost, because there is no path to follow. But then…there are all those interesting places to find, too…

I am not a light beer to be chugged, because you want to finally get to second base with that blonde…

I am that dark, smoky bourbon you’ve been dying to sip, slowly, decadently, all evening, next to the fire.

I am not a coy, flirtatious sidelong glance, eyes lowered quickly away…

I am the frank appraisal, genuine appreciation and eyebrow lifted. 

I am not water-cooler small talk, or office gossip.

I am the thoughtful pause before the insight.

I am not a young thing, any longer, but that does not preclude me from being vital.

I am deeper, richer, far more now than I ever was back then.

I contain multitudes, universes, infinities, within me now, that did not exist then.

I am so much more than I was…

You should see me now…..

But you won’t

Because you have your eyes closed.

Exit Strategy

Graduation approaches swiftly, & I’m heavily in planning mode.

OnlySon has his cap & gown, & is eagerly awaiting the day he can kick high school to the curb.

He has requested Texas chocolate cake (a much-beloved recipe of our family’s) for his graduation party, which will be held at my house after the ceremony.

And…it’s going to be a joint party for my son…with his father, my ex-husband.

I know the ex really only wants to do a joint party because he doesn’t want to be bothered with having to plan a party, buy the supplies, host the damned thing, clean up afterwards, yadda, yadda, yadda… It’s always been his MO, to make me do all the work when it came to this sort of thing, while taking a share of the credit. Asshat. 

He says he’s bringing a second cake (he works as a baker at a grocery store here in town, so OnlySon requesting a homemade scratch recipe has wounded his pride, I’m sure), but I know his family… I’m making 2 of my cakes, just to make sure there’s some left for my family.

All the while, my anxiety has me in heavy emergency exit-strategy mode.

Except…

How do you get away from someone when they’re at your home? And they bring their family with them? Their very loud, very confrontational, very Greek, family? (If you’re picturing My Big Fat Greek Wedding in your head…Yep, you’re seeing the right people).

If anyone gets up in my face, I’m going to have a tough time holding my cool.  I will try, for my son’s sake…

But, as I’m passing out pieces of cake, I might be tempted…

The Newest Little Monkey

Ok, so I’m a little behind with this post, but it’s not my fault.

Honest.

I have a new grandson.

Everybody say hi to Maxwell!

His Mama (EldestDaughter) calls him “Monkey”, because she says he gets this little wrinkle in his forehead when he’s thinking really hard, or confused, or working on his next magnum opus, that makes him look like a baby monkey.

He was born 2/12/2017 in Washington state, where ED is now living with her SO & Schnicklefritz.

And I didn’t get to be there.

*sniffle*

But, he’s healthy, happy, & adjusting to life on the outside, according to all accounts, which is all I can ask for.

I DO get to see them all when they’ll come home for OnlySon’s graduation in May.

*BIG YAY & high five!*

So, for now, I have to survive without baby snuggles & will live vicariously through texted pictures & a recently set up weekly Skype date.

And, I’ll have to revamp my ABCs I wrote when Schnicklefritz was born, & tailor some much-needed “Gramma wisdom” for this newest addition to the zoo.

*I feel a challenge coming on*

For now, here’s some pictures I’ve wheedled out of my daughter!

Who is this person holding me? A brother, you say? Ok, I’ll start working on my “little brother pestering” skill set now.

Here’s this “big brother” person again… Are you sure he needed to follow us home, Mom?  Well, at least he seems to like me somewhat, so maybe this could work.

You know, I’m not too sure about this whole “being outside” thing, Mom & Dad…couldn’t I have just stayed where I was? I was kinda comfy there.

No snark…just awwwwwwwwwe…

*sniffle* 

I wanna snuggle him!

Translate Me

There’s a code,

Written into the pieces of me

Mysterious and complex

It speaks in forms unknown

Turning this on, turning that off

Flipping genetic switches at seeming random

Lighting fires within, only to douse them later, with no explanation or apology

It’s a book, 50, 100, 1 million volumes thick, written in a language I cannot read

My own body and mind, a saga I cannot comprehend without another’s key.

“The Divine Mystery” some may call it, as they turn away from the puzzle to things they can digest. The depth and breadth of the conundrum too much for them to contemplate, they have no further wish to attempt the struggle.

But for me, I wish to delve deeper, to try to understand the whys and wherefores, the hows and whats of Me.

I seek, not only to understand for my own self, but to translate – to gain understanding, the internal “ah-hah!” from others. To see the light go on when they understand that I am the way I am because…THIS. And THAT. And THESE.

Logic and science dance seductively with emotion and faith, all swirling in their patterns together, intertwining in hypnotic rythmns, only to break violently & inexplicably from each other for no apparent reason. Then, quietly meeting again in the middle of the dance floor, to touch hands & make apologies, while agreeing to disagree.

Where does the dance begin? How does it end? And what is the meaning of that complicated bobble of steps in the middle? These are things I seek, words I reach for.

But first, I must decode my skin, my organs, my brain. I must Translate Me.

And that…might take a minute.

*written in response to the Daily Prompt*

Dream Interpretation – The Marten

Most of the time, I don’t remember much about my dreams. Flashes, impressions, feelings, maybe a short “flash fiction” style scene, is usually all I carry into my waking day.

But, once in a while, I’ll have a dream so vivid, so full of senses, that I not only remember it when I wake up, I carry it around in my head for days, until I figure out what it means for me.

(This happened shortly before Xmas, too, & the dream then led me to email the Dragon, which is another story entirely)

Anyway, the dream I had just a couple nights ago, was just as vivid & full of sensory detail, & I’ve been mulling it over inside my head ever since.

In the dream, I was told by someone that “the marten you saved is inside the barn, you should check on it”.

Which to me was a confusing statement in & of itself, because I don’t think about martens much, & haven’t ever seen one, except in pictures. What is a Marten, you ask?

Not something that would have registered in my waking mind as something important, as they aren’t native to ND, where I live, so I wasn’t sure, in the dream, why the person who told me this was so specific as to the kind of creature.

So, I went into the barn, & to the stall where this little critter was curled in a great pile of fresh straw, almost sleeping, & seemingly, very relaxed.

But, as soon as I crouched down near it, it jumped up, very excited, & rushed over to me, crawling up into my arms, nuzzling me, & chittering at me quite animatedly.

I just sat there, holding this warm, vibrating furry creature, & felt totally at peace, as though it were perfectly natural to have a wild animal, related to wolverines, badgers & weasels, snuggled in my arms like a house cat.

And then I woke up.

I did some research on martens, just to satisfy my curiosity about this unexpected dream, & in reading about martens as a totem animal, came upon some surprising information that sounded completely familiar & made me laugh at myself.

Taken quotes from Spirit Animal Personalities on blogspot

SOCIAL OVERVIEW:

♦ Introverted, independent
♦ Not manipulative of people
♦ Reputation as a bit of a quiet hermit
♦ Don’t make new friends easily or often
♦ Social activity can be stressful, awkward
♦ Reserved and reclusive, but playful around friends
♦ Uninterested in people and in opening up to people
♦ Do not recognise or place themselves within social hierarchies
♦ Make for non-commital but non-judgemental and truthful friends

INTELLECTUAL OVERVIEW

♦ Very inquisitive
♦ Not perfectionists
♦ Tend to procrastinate
♦ Likes to keep options open
♦ Healthy amount of cautious
♦ Always prefer to work alone
♦ Seem disorganised and easy-going
♦ Do not function well under a spotlight

EMOTIONAL OVERVIEW:

♦ Conflict avoidant
♦ Emotionally guarded
♦ Clear comfort zones
♦ Sometimes insensitive
♦ Capable of being vicious
♦ Often passive-aggrepeople

PERSONAL OVERVIEW:


♦ Adaptable
♦ Terrtorial and private
♦ Protective of things and ideas, not people

And while I agree completely with most of these traits, & see them very clearly inside myself, I don’t agree with the part about me being non-commital towards people, & not being protective of friends.

I am fiercely devoted to the people I care about, & will defend &/or protect them with all I have in me. This includes blood family And Chosen Family. 

I’m actually better at protecting & defending others than myself. Just ask my kids, or even better, my Nephew – he who knows all the nitty gritty.  I suck at backing myself up, & will usually be the first to take blame or lay guilt on myself in any situation.

So! *briskly rubbing my hands together*

What does this dream mean for me? Well, I’ve taken it to mean that I have a new totem animal, the marten, & I need to explore this some more. I’ve already been exploring my introvert nature, & I’ve been working on accepting it, instead of treating it as though it was a problem or deficit of character.

I think this is the next logical step, really, & look forward to learning more. 

I already feel there is another Goddess/God calling me as well.  Kwan Yin will always be my Boddhisatva, but she knows I have more room in my heart for love & devotion. Love multiplies itself & expands the boundaries of the heart to encompass all. That’s the main lesson She taught me.

I’m ready to learn more.

Bring on the Dreams.

Vintage Poetry #2

After dealing with a migraine today, it’s time for me to pass on some of the love.

Cue the old poetry…

Mirror Image 

You sit there

Talking to me

But I don’t hear what

You’re saying

I’m looking 

In your eyes

Seeing my own pain

Reflected there

You’re telling me

Something about

How you never promised me

A rose garden

I never

Asked for one

All I wanted

Was that you

Be honest

With me

Tell me what

You feel

I’ll understand

I

Won’t break

I promise.

*funny how present life seems to imitate the past, ain’t it?*

One Tear for Me

Just cry one tear for me

Then I’ll be on my way

Please tell me that you loved me

At least you did one day

It matters to me now

What you have to say

Even if it won’t

When I am old and gray

I could have loved you deeply

But you just walked away

Before I had a chance

To say what I had to say

So just cry one tear for me

My love

Then I’ll be on my way.

-4/8/87

*damnedest thing, how these still sound so familiar*

Mannequins

Here I stand

At the window

Looking in.

My hands pressed against

The glass

My breath making fog

On its surface.

Let me in, I say

I tap on the glass

But they don’t see

Or hear

Their backs are turned

And then, so is mine

I turn and see her

Standing there

With her hands pressed

Against the glass

As mine had been

I know that I

Am no longer alone.

We back away from the window

“They’re only mannequins”

She says

I noticed that too

We walk away together

Knowing that they are only

Window dressing

While we have the whole world

To ourselves.

-4/14/89

*this was for my best friend, who showed me how much bigger the world was, when all I saw was a small town*

*and here’s the last one I plan to publish here, as this has reminded me why I haven’t posted these before…*

Think of Me

Every time you see a happy child

Think of me

When you see something free and wild

Think of me

When you read a story

With a happy end

Or get a letter from

Your best friend

See my smiling face

Happy for you

Think of me.

When you’re lost and alone

And you want to go home

Think of me

If you’re sad or you’re blue

Know I’m thinking of you

When you see the sun come out…

Think of me.

-1/30/89

Fini

Vintage Poetry #1

*Oh.my.god.  I’d forgotten how sappy & simple some of my old poetry was… Oy.

Ok, here goes…*

You & Me

Your eyes touch mine

And I smile

Your hand holds mine

And I’m warm

Your arm encircles me

And I’m safe

There’s no way I can

Come to harm

You smile 

And my heart skips a beat

You laugh

And my world is complete

I wake

To find it’s but a dream.

(12-15-87)

*I was still in high school…so sue me. I was emo before it was a thing.*

Little Roses

Little roses

Pale and pink

Overflowing

In the sink

Clip and snip

Trim and prune

It’s time for them

To die, too soon

Buds not opening

Never showing

The rare, rich beauty

Of the rose inside

Their cries of pain

Go unheard

On display

Like small, caged birds

Cry, little roses

Tears of pink

To overflow

And fill the sink.

(12-16-87)

*yeah…I’m not posting some of these…they’re decidedly too…wow, was I a sap as a kid, or what? I can tell a lot of them were written to try to gain approval from others, & never should’ve seen the light of paper…I’ll be burning some of them later in effigy

And the last emo thing for the night…(posting this one with my eyes closed, I think)*

Tear Song

Sing a song of suicide

A pocket full of lies

Four and twenty sorrows

Form in my eyes

When my song is over

They begin to sing

Wasn’t that a funny way

To go and meet the King?

(1-8-88)

*See? Emo as all get-out. Did you sing along after catching the tune it was written to?

Geez.

Maybe this little parade down memory lane wasn’t the grandest idea… Or, maybe it was, as a way to get me to finally get rid of some of this paper trash!  We’ll see how far down the rabbit hole I go with this, or if I give it up as a badly spent penny…*