On To The Next Lillypad

Happy Leap Year...

H
O
P

~whoosh!

Vineyards - Dedicated to KB

I love the metaphors and experiences about a vineyard.

Grapes.
Juice.
Jelly.
Wine.
mmmmm -- wine.

The biblical reference of being the fruit of the vine is one amazing and awesome wonder. Bearing fruit is what life is all about, isn't it? John 15:5 is KB's favorite scripture. She reminds me of it regularly.

Sharing wine with good friends and my family is of great import to me. Toasting to good times, past times, future times and current. Sipping and critiquing. We do that with relationships, too, don't you think? We sample and analyze. Swirl it in our mouths...our souls...and then decide if we like this person or not. The wine need not be expensive either. There's nothing like laughter over cheap wine. My favorite is Llano Estacado Blush. Llano makes a good red, too, called Sweet Red. Not dry, and very fruity. Most red wine lovers won't like it, I'm sure. And I need it chilled, please.

So, a vineyard invites age. The quality of a grape, the quality of the end product is the goal. It might take years and years for the sower to get it right. Yet, he does. It was destiny. Wine running through his veins. And with aging, comes Wisdom. Stronger roots, thicker branches that bear heavy, ripe and life-giving fruit. Enduring weather. Surviving swarms. Drinking in nature.

I'd like to come back as a grape vine in my next life.

Toasting KB: a fruitful life I pray for thee.

Why There Are Moms

I broke down on Mom's shoulder yesterday.



I'd been feeling something for a while, and then she called it by name. I heard it OUT LOUD and in my face and all I could do was collapse.



I haven't seen my mom in about 3 weeks. My Husband has been not working and job-shopping and has just this week landed a good gig (thank you God). So, Mom hasn't been needed to come babysit My Little One or pick up My Eldest from school or take care of my Mother-In-Law, who thankfully is becoming more and more independent. She's on the homestretch to physical recovery. Anyway, I've missed seeing my mom. And I've been so freakin' busy with work and stuff going on after work EVERY night.



My Mother-In-Law has been doing the dishes and the laundry. My Mom cooks dinner for my family but doesn't stay and eat with us. She also sweeps and mops the house, changes the sheets on all our beds and has even helped take off peeling wallpaper for the kitchen re-do. My Husband is taking care of the money and the yard, any fixes around the house, and the cars.



What am *I* doing?



I really don't know what I'm doing.



I've had this ooky feeling swirling in the quiet depths of my cavity for a while now....that I'm not doing enough. Everyone is doing for me. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be rich? Because if it is, I feel icky. It's so weird that everyone is carrying me right now. I've tried and tried to be rational about it knowing that it takes a village and all that stuff. There have been times I carried the load, and now, it's my turn to have the load carried for me.

But. Still....

A lingering haunts me still.

I feel like all I do is go to work, come home, function, rest. Awaken, work, home, function, rest. I seriously don't do anything else. How can this be healthy?

Mom summed it up best when she said, "we're running the house for you".

I broke down:
Yeah. And everyone else gets to raise my kids, do my housework, run errands for me. My job gets the best of me each day. I get to see my kids 2-4 hours a night and I'm grumpy or tired. It doesn't seem fair...."

All she could do was hug me.

And, really, that's all I needed.

Thanks, Mom.

From My Princess....

...okay...

THIS.

IS.

GREATNESS!

(thanks HRH KP!)

No Red for Me Today....

....except for my bra.

I'm not much for Valentine's Day romance. I think the "holiday" is pretty shallow, actually. Between Hallmark and insecure women, this "holiday" has reached the equivalent point of ridiculousness as the commercialism of Christmas.

I unexpectedly received a call from my best male friend today:

G: Not that I believe in this shit, but Happy Valentine's Day.
Me: (laughing) I don't believe in it either, but awwwww, that's so nice! Thanks!! And same to you.
G: This holiday is such bullshit.
Me: I know. I agree. (pause) Why are we wishing each other Happy Valentine's Day if neither of us believes in it? (chuckling more)
G: Fuck if I know.

We proceed to converse about other ridiculousness.

Poor guys. I feel bad for all you guys out there whose women torture you into the guilt of spending a exhorbitant amount of energy, time and money for a frivoulous holiday. And, oh, you single folk (especially women)! My heart especially bleeds for you because you have all this silly pressure to be part of couplehood, or you have this rebellious streak screaming at the world.



I do find some thoughtfullness in sending Mom a little L~O~V~E, or giving children a valentine. I even find fun in buying Justice League valentines and giving them out to my co-workers like I did last year. But, I certainly would puke if my husband were to buy me dozens of roses, a gigantic candy-filled heart, a heart-shaped necklace (never, NEVER buy me ANY heart shaped jewelry!), and take me out to III Forks for dinner.



Don't get me wrong. Jackie likes her some flowers. I am partial to Forget Me Nots...

Forget Me Nots are the perfectly named flower. And perfectly blue. They are small and dainty (something I was only when I was between the ages of infant to five years old). They are the Alaska state flower (my homeland!). Their name conveys what I would like my legacy to be: I don't want to be forgotten.

But I digress.....back to VD.

On this day of romance (cough), I'd rather My Husband just remind me that he loves me by swooping me in his strong embrace, so we are nose to nose while looking deeply into my eyes and saying "Have I told you today, baby, that I love you?" He can seal it with a lingering kiss that makes me want to jump his bones right then and there.

Yeah. (sigh) One of those weak-in-the-knees kind of kisses that he *still* knows how to give. And, if he really wanted to give me the cherry on top, he softly affirm, "you STILL fascinate me...."



Happy Valentine's Day?

~J


P.S. Dave sent me these Valentine's Day wishes (thanks Dave):

Happy Were All Going To DIe Alone So Why Bother Day!!

Happy Might As Well Collect Cats Cuz Were Gonna End Up Dead In A Dirty Hotel Room In Florida Anyways Day!

Happy Couples Can Go Fuck Themselves Day

Something I Believe....

....but had almost forgotten.......

It Is Well With My Soul/The River's Gonna Keep On Rolling

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When peace like a river attendeth my soul

When sorrows like sea billows roll

Whatever my lot thou hast taught me to say

It is well, it is well with my soul...

~~~~~~~

You can tell someone you love 'em

From the bottom of your heart

And believe that it's the truest thing you've known

And even if you never break the promises you make

The river's gonna keep on rolling on

And if you haven't got a dollar

Not a penny to your name

Somebody's gonna miss you when you're gone

And even if you never find

Just A Little Peace of Mind

The river's gonna keep on rolling on

Keep on rollin' to the ocean

Keep on rollin' to the sea

Keep on rollin' 'till the love we need

Washes over you and me

God's love is like a river

At every turn and every bend

And faith in Him will turn your heart around

'Cause even though we sin,

There's forgiveness in the end

And the river's gonna keep on rollin' on

Keep on rollin' to the ocean

Keep on rollin' to the sea

Keep on rollin' 'till the love we need

Washes over you and me

Keep on rollin' 'till the love we need

Washes over you and me...

~~~~~~~

It is well with my soul

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Religious/Spiritual

Can a person have soul -- a spirit -- yet not be spiritual?

Can one be both spiritual and religious?

Why does being religious have such a negative connotation nowadays?

Is being spiritual external, internal or both?

Is being religious external, internal, or both?

Father Dennis Corrado is a guest speaker at my church this week. It's part of a Lenten Parish Mission. The topic of his mission is about being spiritual versus being religious. It's certainly sparking a lot of thought and discussion.

I am looking forward to tomorrow's discussion before I take a stab at answering my own questions. But feel free to post your answers! I'm open to learning.

February Brings.....

...no, I don't mean Lent.

....no, I don't mean Valentine's Day.

.....no, I don't mean President's Day.

On this day, seven years ago, my father left the Earth and elevated to Heaven.

(Seven seems to be a running theme number in our lives. My birthday has a seven. Dad's does. He died on a seven. My brother has a seven in his birthdate. Mom's birthday adds up to a number with seven. This commemorates the seventh year of his death. My Eldest is seven. My Little One's birthdate adds up to a number with seven in it.)

He came from a chemo treatment to meet her.

He drove five hours to a big-city hospital fresh from enduring four hours of chemotherapy.

He couldn't meet her the day before because he was simply too exhausted.

He made the effort to come the next day defeating the exhaustion from the day before, despite his cancer treatment from earlier that day, weak and compromised in body being eaten alive with abnormally growing cells which, in the end, won the entire war.

He made that monumental effort to meet his First Granddaughter.

My father drove all that way, body and soul exerted, to meet My Eldest.

He will never know My Little One -- at least not in this lifetime -- on this Earth.

The picture you see in today's post is of My Dad napping with His Granddaughter. They are eerily the same color. My Eldest is but two days old. Dad was about to turn 63. (After being diagnosed, he set three goals. He wanted to live long enough to see: 1 - his first social security paycheck, 2 - his 30th wedding anneversary, and 3 - to see the millenium. He achieved them all.)

They lay asleep on a futon that's been opened to the bed position. He looks happy, doesn't he? I'm reminded by looking at the picture how cold he always stayed. That heavy, brown-quilted, flannel "shirt" kept him warm. I especially love how her head is turned slightly toward him. She looks so peaceful sleeping in the crook of his arm and chest as she often did with that fist up against her cheek.

Life was so much simpler back then....

Anyway, don't be sad as you read this post. I'm posting as I do, in memory of My Dad. And while yes, I am sad he isn't here and I often grieve all the things he won't be here to see and do, ultimately, I couldn't be happier for him. He's in peace. He's in Heaven. He's where we all long to go. He's smiling down at me and all his loved ones. I can hear him whenever I hear my kids laughing. I can hear him whenever I play cards. I feel him as I drive through the gate of the joint reserve base. I see him in seredipitously found pennies. He protects me by sending red cardinals. Whenever I eat catfish, I reminisce about the fishfry days at The Bronc, singing old country songs.

So many smiles.

Even in death, there is a smile.

Wasted Wednesday

As much as I'd like to say "I'm drunk", that's not the meaning of Wasted Wednesday.

It is, however, a hangover-related feeling.

I usually follow politics, at least peripherally. I enjoy the process. I don't have an opinion of if my vote counts or not. Admittedly, I get beat-down by the ads, the mudslinging and negativity because I think that behavior detracts so much from any candidate discussing their core stances on issues.

I kept hearing about "Super Tuesday". Feels kind of like "Stupor Tuesday" to me since that's how I've felt for roughly six months. I'm not keeping up with any politics this year. The country has survived this long. It won't dilapidate in the next five years.

I think I'll have an adult beverage none-the-less. To celebrate. What I don't know.

Cheers!

A Blog Untitled

Ruminations.

Opportunities untaken.

Soul-searching.

Yearning.

Trappings.

Boundaries.

Lessons learned.

Lessons to be learned.

Lessons taught.

Lessons to teach.

Outreaching yet not holding.

Screaming yet unheard.

Crying yet arid.

Smiling in the sun.

Smiling sunnily.

Sun smiling.

Light.

Walking.

Jogging.

Running.

Sprinting.

Panting.

Burning.

Singed.

Purified.

Molded.

Smoldering......

Minuto Musical: Nickelback

~ "Figured You Out" by Nickelback ~

Hard.

Angry.

Rockin'.

Good sex music when you're wanting to be in the less-romantic and more in the primal, carnal, fulfilling-a-need mood.

I like your pants around your feet

And I like the dirt that's on your knees

And I like the way you still say please

While you're looking up at me

You're like my favourite damn disease

~

And I love the places that we go

And I love the people that you know

And I love the way you can't say no

Too many long lines in a row

I love the powder on your nose

~

And now I know who you are

It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out

(Now I did, you wonder why)

And now I know who you are

It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out

(Now I did, you wonder why)

~

I like the freckles on your chest

And I like the way you like me best

And I like the way you're not impressed

While you put me to the test

I like the white stains on your dress

~

And I love the way you pass the check

And I love the good times that you wreck

And I love your lack of self-respect

While you passed out on the deck

I love my hands around your neck

~

And now I know who you are

It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out

(Now I did, you wonder why)

And now I know who you are

It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out

(Now I did, you wonder why)

(Why not before, you never tried)

(Gone for good, and this is it)

~

I like your pants around your feet

And I like the dirt that's on your knees

And I like the way you still say please

While you're looking up at me

You're like my favourite damn disease

~

And I hate the places that we go

And I hate the people that you know

And I hate the way you can't say no

Too many long lines in a row

I hate the powder on your nose

~

And now I know who you are

It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out

(Now I did, you wonder why)

And now I know who you are

It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out

(Now I did, you wonder why)

(Why not before, you never tried)

(Gone for good, and this is it)

My Little One

Such Sweetness.