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Showing posts from 2014

Hair my bug bear

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It's mid October and another year nearly over. I can't believe it! Him says that I utter the same thing every year. It's been only 14 years since we've been married, so it can't be too bad. But honestly...the years fly by so fast, and each and every year has had revelations that I've sat with or run with.

The biggest reveal this year has been a bunch of grey hair. My grey hair. The trouble makers were lurking all these years I'll bet, right under my scalp, waiting to spring out when I got too busy to notice. And truly, I have been so busy that the last thing I remember about this year, was the winter from last year. When we were forced to slow down. And now it's nearly winter again! Back to the point, I have never had quite such an explosion of grey hair before. And before you point out the obvious, I've had grey hair since I was 10. A few strands here and there, that my mother tried desperately to cover up. She imagined tra…

molten vein

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A mountain headless dread,
nothing to quell the spread
of ash like dead thought
and molten rock with anger fraught.

Fury comes alive
Dare hope thrive,
Craters and mouths that brew
words disconnected from the mind that drew
humanity melding and meeting
a body on earth meant to be fleeting.

Thoughts that resist evolution
a soul's sublimation
a cry for mercy, a heart that cannot process
choices inhumane that apparently lead to largesse
And much like those lost souls
a volcano does explode
to reveal what was bubbling beneath
incinerates, sometimes kindly, cuts off at the knees

The verdant slopes will become once more
hiding what remains in memories of yore
the ash like dead thought
and molten rock with anger fraught.

*Image - "Bromo Volcano Form East Java" by TeddyBear[Picnic] through www.freedigitalphotos.net

Mini-Him and Mini-battles

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Him and I have been hounding Mini-Him. That's the word for it. Hounding...

It didn't seem that way initially...and we were so certain of our parental insight, that we took away a whole bunch of things that he loves, unconsciously forgot our usual endearments for him, and really, made the almighty "grade" the sole focus of our collective existence.

He is a good kid, and with a touch of ADD, his days can be slightly challenging. He has nearly always had straight A's. His problem lies in the ability to listen and follow directions. Unless you were to observe it first hand, you would not know exactly how difficult a task this is for Mini-Him. You can see his eyes glaze over the minute instructions are issued...you can see the fidget in his bones, his eyes looking for another focus...and when you finally say, "Repeat what I just said..."
the panicked guilt cross his face.

Then comes the mistimed chatter. He almost always has something…

For someone I'll never see again...

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I used to have this Uncle. Won't spell out the exact relationship just so no one can tell the person I am talking about. This Uncle passed away shortly after Him and I were married. It was not anything that we expected. One assumed that his tall figure would always wait at the airport when one landed, paper rolled under the arm, waving lanky arms excitedly. I understand from my mother's stories about my baby days, that he was everything to me for a while. I must not have felt any of that in my teen years, because I had been nothing short of a b**** to the poor man. That is a strong word for me. I live in a household with many males and they all swear routinely. But this is the only word that I cannot stand. There is some manner of violence to it that I can't put my finger on. So to say that is what I was to this much hassled uncle is to say that I really was a miserable human being for a while.

I hated him with a passion for some years. Some years,…

About the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge and why I think it is a great idea

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There has been a lot of controversy regarding the Ice Bucket mania that has gripped the nation. One can understand why the thought of celebs pouring ice cold slush over themselves comes across as ridiculous and attention grabbing. And as outlandish as one may be tempted to think it is, I believe that this is an AWESOME way to raise money for ALS and it's victims.

I run another blog that has so far been devoted solely to ALS research and it's impact upon the victims and their families, and ways to help these people go through an extremely stressful condition.

We have ways to buy time, scope for remission, and cures for other conditions. There is none of this yet for
ALS. Right from the time that Lou Gehrig and this condition became synonymous, there has been research in many parts of the world. Awareness is not as it should be either. We have pink ribbons for breast cancer awareness and research, a Run for MS, and others where victims can more often tha…

little delight!

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Little boy shrieked, "follow the bee!"
chubby feet sprung into faster leaps by
green grass bouncing free

"A rainbow splashed on the grass!!"
tiny shriek and dropping jaw
showed what formal verse could never surpass!

Of course it was delight
to see every flower you could think of
doused in every spectrum of bright

Tumble into loveliness to rise again
snapdragons' yellow anointing a forehead just as,
morning glories peek from behind ears hidden behind a mane

That black mane dressed artfully with poppy
wait, before you inhale that clover!
Pick it out while dusting pollen from cheeks glossy

He thought of me too,
this I knew when he plucked from his chest,
a forget-me-not that matched my dress, rich of the bluest hue.

The hours spent with one wish
that we could be each color in that meadow
reality such anguish!

I think now that we were lucky to have just been,
my little boy and me, alive in that abundance
a place, maybe heaven or earth, or …

I'll never say it to you again

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I'll never say it to you again,
never mean that,
a hundred shards of glass would cause me less pain
than it does when you smile
as you would at a gamboling puppy
and break my most recent heart and add it to the pile.

I'll never say it to you again,
never mean that,
a hundred shards of glass would cause me less pain
than it does when you join the jeering other
more in love with the laughter and good times
so blind to tears that fall silent as a feather.

I'll never say it to you again,
never mean that,
a hundred shards of glass would cause me less pain
than it does when you dismiss with words amorphous
as we do flyers selling services, refrigerators, because we have too many,
any expression deeper than an inch of the surface.

I'll never say it to you again,
that I need you much the same
as you might need me if your love caused you pain,
as you might need me if your tears fell into clapping hands and scornful eyes,
and when you say that the ocean…

Say what you want to say...

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Blanket of sound
a hundred cicadas
enliven the air as if to say
your voice is found!

Word and thought
in eternal gestation
stuck as a babe lying sidewise
breathlessly awaited, cry sought

Still the birds call
p'raps nonsense or code for a new granary found
chirp, caw, cluck or such
winter to fall

Not scorn, nor jest, not ire nor glory ought distort
a cicada's soprano, or a crow's grating caw ,
Words of pearls, beads, gems polished or not,
strung in confident gold, soothing as a draught.

*Image - "Flying Seagull" by Naypong through www.freedigitalphotos.net

Start Over

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The concrete reflected light from the midmorning sun. Bright, harsh and just the same as yesterday at 9AM. And the day before, and the one before that. Months before summer's heat set in, it stayed cold and grey until 10AM, after which the reluctant light illuminated the uneven pavements that unprotestingly bore hundreds of walkers. Some new and most who likely stepped on the same uneven seams for years.

Aura wondered if it bothered everyone as much as it did her. "Showing up to work is half the battle won!" Her father's voice echoed through her head. He was right. Because she did not want to show up these days. Not to work, and most certainly not on the pavement that led right to the doorstep of AB Banking. There was something about walking everyday, in her black 2 inch heels no matter what her outfit. It was usually black, with white or an occasional dove grey shirt, tailored just so, buttoned up to her clavicles, showing nothing but a ser…

to shrug a mantle

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rock in softness to and fro,
gentle sway and a gentle glow
of light sometimes, but mostly dark
slow the pulse, deeper breath,
or maybe the thought won't matter.

perhaps a hum or thrum,
or the sound of elements
as they have been before thought
in the first seconds of the first epoch
the sounds of home
soothing or terrifying
yet changeless into eternity.

the sounds and sight part of
the elements in me
programmed to draw the cells toward it
Seducer of my will
urges surrender to what will take over
one day
again not of my making.

soothing and tempestuous
as the womb
or the ocean mighty
whispering, roaring
words of peace
that await all
all who live pushing against
their only rest,
their only cross to bear.

*Image 1 - Under Blue Water With Sun Shining Above by khunaspix through www.freedigitalphotos.net


For sentimental geese

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It's strange how our world categorizes and pigeon holes everyone into a certain type. There is the thinking type, and the feeling type...and fun kinda person/or a serious sort, an easy going dude or a high strung man, everyone labeled according to their reactions and the feelings that they evoke in others.

That is the point of this bit of writing today. Feelings. The associations the word evokes in our times are the issue for me. The images of well grown kids resenting a little less physical comfort, or folks with every opportunity at their disposal who commit dastardly acts because their "feelings were hurt". Those issues are societal ills. They have nothing to do with honest to goodness feelings.

Feelings are important. Not so one can wait for them to be hurt so they can complain about the world at large. Not so that we can generate even more politically correct non-statements to avoid trampling on the over coddled sensitivities of a random spe…

Preachy nuggets

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Mini-Him is a year away from the all important 13. His rebellious streak has tagged along since his infancy, when putting him in diapers was next to impossible. Now, asking him to do anything is next to impossible. Infact, asking him not to argue does not seem to merit even a cursory acknowledgement. How can one argue endlessly, getting lost in verbal mazes, and trapping oneself in one's own arguments? So much so, that I feel compelled to rescue him from the clutches of yet another illogical bit of self-defense. He just has to say something to everything. And that is increasing my grey hair population.

Despite all of this, sweetness and caring remain his underlying qualities...even if they show less and less through the frown on his suddenly angular face.

I've been trying to explain/direct/order/suggest/non-verbally indicate the important things that he needs to attend to daily. This summer break marks his first foray into the kitchen for reasons other…

Unscramble within

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The truth behind our comforting lies stays cloaked in fear. The fear forms a whiteboard against which we present our ideas, hopes...a refracting surface. A place to point to if anyone asks about ambition, hopes and dreams. A collage of "would be's if not for...".It allows us to pretend for ages. A lifetime if the need to look within stays unexamined and untended.

I've been able to pontificate about this for ages. But I realized when writing my wish list, and more importantly working on the fashion forward article and the follow up guest post by my friend and fellow blogger Shabana Feroze, that I am such a giant clucking chicken when it comes to facing ridicule and negative opinion. I knew it and tried to make the fear smaller than what it was. In short, I tried to fake it till I made it...but the only thing fake was my smile of unconcern, and secret attempts to stay on every contradictory person's good side.

And while I wrote about hopes …

All U Pear Ladies...Fashion sense wish come true! Thanks Shabana Feroze!

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So when I wrote my wishlist series, I put down a wish to be fashion forward. The stylish and motivated Shabana Feroze of the vibrant Silver Kick Diaries  read my wish/rant. She said that she would help me wrap my head around concepts for my body type. We went about it in a systematic way. She asked me about what exactly bothers me about my body, what goes through my head when I attempt to pick out clothes, and what exactly the discomfort entails.

I wrote her a long email explaining many things. I am my own psychoanalyst (in jest...) and told her exactly what bothered my mind when I looked at clothes, and exactly what made me uncomfortable. She has addressed everything that is relevant and has done an outstanding job of it! Thank you Shabana! I'm so glad to be sharing this on my blog and have one wish off the wish list!

I LOVE Shabana's well organized and informative guide. Practical tips too, given my mad mad life! For more inspiration and style tips, …

Give and Give, Take and Take

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The balance between give and take does not seem to exist by minute. Or hour. Or days...and it seems to me at this frustrating moment, not in years either. I do believe in the universal law of checks and balances, and often pray/hope that I won't have to wait another lifetime to acquire the good, by which time, I'm sure I would not remember or even know that it is "the good from giving" that I am being gifted. If I won't even be me, how does it matter?

And I think, this last is the point of all our personal/religious/rationalist theories...that in the end, it shouldn't matter. And that the checks and balances exist but may not be ours to witness. Or ours to benefit from.
It would then mean that we're a species as connected as we are separate. I refuse to believe that humanity evolved and continues to evolve (devolve?) at random. And at some point, what happens to one, trickles down/sideways/thru time warps etc to happen to all of u…

A sucker for love stories because....

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I don't think I come across as a romantic person. I honestly don't think much of teddy bears bearing wands with candy hearts, and rose petals sprinkled on sheets or perfumed letters (do people do that stuff still?). I know folks who love those things and it's cute...but it is not me.

Still, I can't ever ignore a good love story. For someone who lives a very utilitarian life, the shades (not necessarily 50...umm...joke folks?) of love in a book brighten my own day. I don't imagine an Adonis with speaking golden eyes doing unprintable stuff to me. Nor do I imagine myself as a flirtatious seductress, intent on leading men to a literal and metaphorical precipice. I don't imagine said Adonis valiantly defending my honor, with his heart in the act. Nor do I imagine myself as someone who will tolerate all manner of nonsense waiting for Adonis' acceptance of his one true love/object of lust (the one and the same of course!).

But I do fall i…

Wish list - Om sweet Om

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My final wish on this series (for now...I'm sure I'll have more to add later) is to be a yoga instructor. I enjoy my comparably average daily practice and what it entails. If I could get better, become more centered and all those balanced agreeables, I would walk the yogi's walk and continue talking the talk.

It doesn't even matter if I instruct...as long as I am able to move into most asanas of a chosen discipline. And I wish that the affinity for a discipline would descend on me. Too many wishes. But it is difficult to understand what might work best for my body type. I have tried most at some point. Wrong...I have not tried Bikram Yoga. And my physical therapist brain will not permit me to do this. But the rest of it, yes please!

As hare-brained as it may seem, I wait for these things to reveal themselves. I would very much like to be able to learn one of Ashtanga, Vinyasa or Iyengar yoga. And if possible, at some point, teach it.

Walking an…

Wish list series - to be fashion forward and Happy Fourth!

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I haven't learned to dress right in all these years. I've lived in different countries/climates etc. But dressing up for me is a frightening, difficult to navigate activity. The world of color, choices, cuts, fit and trends is one that I have never had the "guts" to explore.

To clarify, I wear jeans/tracks/twill pants/t shirts/shirts and not much variety other than that. A special occasion might warrant a silken something that I hold onto for dear life. Just so that I won't have to think the next time I have an event. And I think I lie to myself when I say that trends don't matter to me as I prefer a classic touch. I do. That's what my better senses gravitate to most of the time. But my "safer", "downplay your assets" and "stay in the shadows" sense encourages the most basic, non threatening, seamlessly moving from decade to decade sort of fashion choices...or rather unfashionable choices. I mean, sho…

Wish List Series - Chocolate dreams

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Belgian chocolate has a flavor that I cannot find anywhere else. For that reason alone, I would love to visit Belgium. Never mind their pommes-frites. I make a batch nearly weekly for Mini-Him with his much loved sauces. It is the chocolate and the fact that such a tiny, beautiful country can produce something that is subtle and dramatic at once.

I researched Belgium long ago, when I made a slide show for an international project for Mini-Him. His topic had been Belgium - country/culture. And boy, what a gorgeous place! With impossibly beautiful castles nestled in lacy greenery, surrounded by water reflecting the royal blue skies, Brugge - The Venice of the North, historic churches with fabled works of art that are UNESCO heritage sites, Belgium has so much to show and tell!

Yet, yet, and yet...my one reason to visit would be to taste its chocolate. While the fabled Guylian and Godiva chocolates are available everywhere, there are local brands which pique my i…