my beloved dream

 I was meant to live in another century.

I am not where I belong. Where I belong is not of this era.

I was meant to be among a certain people.  In another time I was known to them. Those with whom I belong.  In this lifetime I am punished; separated from those I would call beloved.  At once I am alone and yet know of those with whom I belong.  It is punishment and heartbreak to know of them, to love them so dearly, and yet to never have known the one, and only have met the other and been found by him objectionable, unworthy of conversation.

My heart is broken knowing that one has perished from this life cycle. The other will remain apart from me, perhaps for eternity.  My only hope that the next life cycle will bring me back to the love of the other. It is difficult for me to even share this much.  I pray that I have the chance, in the next life cycle, to fulfill the longing for the sweet, beloved one, and know this is real and he is for me and I for him. Please may he recognize me in that other lifetime.

I fear that there will not be another cycle for me, and the cowardice of this cycle will be the legacy of my existence. That I will be no more.

“Some days it is a heroic act just to refuse the paralysis of fear and straighten up and step into another day.”
― Edward Albert

Empty

Empty

I am a rock

an island

Bereft of emotion

alone

empty

empty

empty

Still here, don't know why

I am still here.

But I don't know why.

Feeling more alone than ever.

No one to talk to.

I don't matter.

periwinkle gate beckons

meadow gate beckons

periwinkle shaded flowers

calling me to beauteous fields

solitudinous nature nurturing 

peace in the heart

for sybil 

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spring and things....

It's the first calendar day of Spring in northern Illinois.  Some folks celebrate that it's spring... but let us not get ahead of ourselves, or of Mother Nature...  a couple of years ago we had snow on April 19... that was about 4 inches of snow, if memory serves, and it was NOT pretty.  (well, it was pretty, but the roads were ugly)

It is a lovely day, sunny with blue skies. There is snow still visible wherever it was piled up too high, but that may be gone today or in the next couple of days, as it is predicted to be near 60F.  

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I had a mishap back in February, resulting in having a toenail removed by a doctor.  Specifically the big toe nail on my left foot.  (Gives the epithet "my left foot!" a whole new meaning..  *wink wink)  That was an experience. I was concerned that it would be a painful procedure.  The truth is that what really HURT was when the injected the local anesthetic...in both sides of the toe - 2 needle sticks that were really UNCOMFORTABLE... 

Magically, after the local took effect I felt NOTHING.  It never hurt, not even hours later.  I find that really interesting, because they stick a tool that somewhat resembles a flat head screwdriver under the toenail and pry the nail off.  To be honest I think that toenail was more than 50% off the toe before they began to work on it.  The removal took less than 5 minutes, and the nail came away clean -nothing was left for them to remove.  After more than a week I was able to graduate from soaking the foot to simply cleaning the area daily and keeping a band aid (okay 2 band aids) on the toe to protect it. 

The nail is growing back nicely.  That said it's a little creepy... the nail is not flat and smooth as it grows back.  I did read about this being probable, so I am not too worried about.  Hopefully once it grows back all the way, and continues to grow, it will begin to look/feel more like the other toenails.

This was caused by wearing shoes that were too small... I have 4 other toenails that are various shades of purple.  Needless to say I will be trying on all of the shoes in the house, and any that impinge on that toe (with the removed nail) at all will be purged.  I will donate those shoes, NOT put them in the trash.  Almost every shoe I own is in good condition, with no damage that would prohibit donating them. 

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I have found that I really like a young singer... he sings songs about his faith.  His name is Jack Cassidy, and he is the son of Patrick Cassidy. Jack is a nephew of David Cassidy.  One song in particular was shared by Jack's Uncle Shaun on Facebook... and I have been listening to it on repeat...  Let Go, Let God...

link to Let Go, Let God (youtube)

I like to think that Lillian would approve, and that she would actually like this one...

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time is fleeting.... don't waste it

I got a real shock, late last night... a cousin of mine passed away.  Sandy was my age... and I wasted so much time....   We did not spend much time together, but I loved her.  And I sat in my living room, late in the night, and cried.

As pre-teens, and young teens we spent a little time together.  Her grandmother was my mothers sister, you see, and we went on some road trips together to visit relatives. 

We went out to the Lancaster, Wisconsin area to visit some relatives.  Sandy and one of her brothers, and I - we were kids... the three of us rode together in the back seat of the pale green Oldsmobile. It was her brother's birthday, and the adult women had a little surprise party planned.  We parked at a little picnic area along the Mississippi River and had lunch and birthday cake. It is a time I barely remember, but for many years now that little memory of the birthday cake being brought out to the wooden picnic table by that mighty river has been a kind of comfort to me.  I cherish it.

. . . 

Some time later, when we were young teens, my mother and her sister decided to take a trip to visit their brother, Fred, in Tennessee.  They thought it was nice to bring us two girls together on this road trip.

Sandy and I, again the back seat, I have no recollection of the car...  but my mother, the main driver, chose to not take the interstate highways... so there were many twists and turns of the route between northern Illinois and the vicinity of McEwen, Tennessee... and Sandy and I found it uproariously funny, and asked if we were following the trail of buffalo or of drunken indians, or perhaps some lost pilgrim.  As young teens we thought it was so funny.  My mom laughed with us.  Eventually we did arrive at Fred's place.

Uncle Fred kept peacock birds on his property. He also had a pen full of chickens for the eggs.  That man did love gigantic breakfast meals. Sandy and I wandered around the property, several acres off a rural roadway. We happened to spy Fred going to the chicken coop, and we got an idea for a fun prank.  Fred was an amusing man, prone to tell a funny story and get us laughing,... he loved to tease us kids too.  So our prank was payback for some teasing I no longer recall.  We snuck up on that chicken coop and locked Uncle Fred in! and we ran away laughing loudly.

Mind you, we would not have locked the coop shut if not for the fact that Fred could reach though the fencing above waist height and unlock the padlock.  It took him a couple of minutes to contort his arms enough to get the key in the lock and unlock it,... laughing and scolding us the entire time.  

A pleasant memory of a moment of mischief.

We did love Uncle Fred.

And I did love my cousin Sandy. 

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he sat alone, reading his book

he sat alone, at a lunchroom table, reading a book. it was some quasi-intellectual title that i have long since forgotten. the man worked in a manufacturing facility, i do not know what his actual job was, but i figured it was not a complicated job.  maybe his job was more complicated, now that i think about it.  but he appeared to be enjoying the book. he was quite absorbed in the reading, and no one bothered him at all.

it was my observation that many of the workers there were not very bright. i interacted with a great number of them in my duties. (i was there with the hearing testing company - OSHA mandated hearing testing in industry.)  i knew that my company went to this particular manufacturing facility annually to test the plant employees hearing.  i know that many were not very bright, because they could not remember ever having their hearing tested there before - yet many of them marked on their hearing questionnaire that they had worked there for several years. Looking at the questionnaires that they filled out I found myself wondering about their intelligence. (How did these people find their way to and from the job every day, because evidence showed that they could not possibly have complicated jobs. likely to be replaced by robots any day now....)

I still think about the man reading the quasi-intellectual book....  what a sly fox he was... have a simple job for most of your life.  A job that doesn't involve ALL of your intellect, and in your space time EXPAND your knowledge by reading all the time. i bet he made a pretty good living, lived cheaply at home, had few debts, and a library card. i bet he put money into savings every week, and had a sizeable retirement fund. i envy that man.

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the rocker

it was her chair 

the rocker

she chose it

sat in only by her

rocker recliner

velvet like fabric

when she struggled

to rise from her rocker

i added to the height

she is gone now

I sit in her rocker

daily

the rocking comforting