Life is Good

How is everyone? I'm praying you and yours are all doing well. I'm still standing and counting the blessings that grace my world.

I started a new blog. I celebrated a birthday. I sat in my sadness over the anniversary of my father's death. I've got on with life and taken a deep breath over the opening up of my world again.

I haven't been into an actual store since March and I'm finding that I don't really miss it. I have a local store that I miss, but, in general, I'm just don't care. I order my groceries online and pick them up on my designated day at my designated time. Anything else I need can either wait or I will order it and have it delivered to the house. The dogs love it! They know when their food is delivered and they get so excited to see the boxes. 

Did I tell you I adopted 2 dogs? I don't think I did. My boss and friend knew my heart hurt over losing Diesel. She knew of 2 dogs who needed love, attention, and training. I hesitated simply because neither of them had ever been in the city, let alone a house. I was worried that this would be more than I could handle. I'd managed to train the other dogs because I'd been home full-time. Working full-time would make this dynamic an interesting one. So, just before Halloween 2019, I drove the 30 minutes to pick up these boys. Jaxson is a Jack Russell terrier who hated to be picked up and really didn't want a lot to do with me. Opie, on the other hand, is a blue heeler/border collie mix. (Yeah, energy enough to fuel a small city.) He has been a tryer of my patience. However, he's a good boy who is finally settling into a much more comfy life. Wanna see a picture?

As you can see, they're having an AWFUL time adjusting. LOL The little one is finally learning to snuggle and it just warms my heart. He has been giving kisses and will let me hug him when the mood strikes him. And the big oaf? Well, he's never had an issue with being loved and adored. Walking on a leash? That's a whole different ball game. *eye roll*

Back to the topic of conversation. I have been working through all of this mess, so I'm blessed more than others. With unemployment being a mess and people being out of work, I am so glad to be still working and getting a steady paycheck. I know of small business owners who are being hit so hard right now and it breaks my heart. 

And I've opened up a couple of my Word docs to work on my writing. Don't know how far I'll get, but it feels good to stretch my fingers across the keyboard and let the characters come back to life.

So, tell me, how are you faring? You have all been covered in my prayers and will continue to be covered in them as we test the waters of reopening the country, our states, our cities...our lives. Be safe. Be healthy. Be kind.

The End of An Era

It has been almost a week that I've had to survive without my best friend by my side.
On March 25th at 3:19am, I held my best friend's paw and felt his heart take its last beat. With the final beat, an era came to an end.

Diesel was the end of a long line of love. It began with Kodiak and when Diesel drew his last breath, the line of love ended. 

For the first time in almost 20 years, my house doesn't have a dog residing within its walls. And it doesn't feel like home anymore.

There is no more "thump, thump" of his tail as I walk through the door. My bed stays completely made each day because there is no dog pulling my pillows to the center of the bed so he can lie on them. There is no one to eat half of my meals each day. There are no toenails sounding on the wooden floors. There is no jingle of his chain as he gets up to move around. There is no body interrupting my sleep so he can get as close as possible to me. There is no ungodly snoring to warm my heart. There is no massive paws demanding a scratch when I'm in the middle of another task. And I miss him with every beat of my heart.

He came into my life when he was 4 months old. After my Rottie passed away, I had sworn there wouldn't be any more additions to our pack. Then, 9 months later, Diesel came along. He was a spoiled Mama's boy from the start. I would hold him, rock him, sing to him, and treat him better than some children. Everything I did was for him. I got a job so I could afford to give him the life he deserved. I went to school every day because I needed a better job. He was the reason I got out of my bed every single day. He was what kept the depression and anxiety at bay. His goofy antics and his big wrinkly face could brighten up every single day.

My dear boy was the love of my life! I was so blessed to be his mom for his lifetime.  Rest easy, big guy! I loved you more than you could ever know and you blessed me the day you chose me to be your mom. There was NEVER a day that I regretted anything I did for you. You were the best thing in my life and I cannot tell you that enough!

I used to sing this song to Diesel all the time. The morning he passed away, I was blessed enough to sing this to him one final time.

With all the love in my heart, I miss you, my darling boy! Fly high. Run free. Tell Daddy I miss him, too. I'll see when I reach the Rainbow Bridge.

Diesel: 2008-2019

A Little Something I Wrote...

School is back in session and I'm excited to see where this semester goes. Lots of homework and I'm trying to get all of the nonsense into a sensible order. However, I have been doing some writing here and there. Just little snippets to keep the muse satisfied. So, I thought I'd share this piece with you:

Photo by Gemma K. Murray

I Didn’t Mean to Fall in Love…

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

I was at the lowest point of my life. My depression made it hard to breathe. Merely going through the motions, I tried to find myself. My anxiety whispered hateful things. I made myself get out of bed every day, even if it was only for the dog’s sake. I hated myself. I despised my life. I was barely alive.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

I was determined that if only… If only, I had an education. If only, I could open the car door. If only, I could climb the steps to that classroom.  If only, I could make it through this class. If only, I could find a reason. If only, I remembered to breathe.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

I was sitting in the dark classroom that September day. I had made the drive. I had opened the car door. I had made the walk to the building. I had climbed the steps to get inside. I sat down in a hard wooden chair. My anxiety was rising higher. I put in my earbuds and turned on some music. I closed my eyes.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

I felt another presence. I slowly opened my eyes. There you were. You were larger than life. Your smile lit up the darkened room. Your eyes danced. I laughed. I really truly laughed from my soul. I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. You spoke.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

I had a focus. If only, I could make it to the next class period. And the next. And the next. You touched me. Repeatedly. I remembered to breathe. My anxiety fell. My depression buried itself. I didn’t hate myself as much. I laughed with you. I smiled sincerely.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

But there you were. Time and again. We were drawn to each other. We spoke. Memories, family, childhoods, we shared them with each other. I opened my heart to let love peek out. You flung the door wide. I looked into your whiskey-colored eyes.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

You promised to hold my hand. “If I say ‘Jump,’ then we jump. Okay?” you said. I still don’t know why, but I agreed. I trusted you. I don’t trust easy. I’ve been hurt too often. One moment with you and trust flowed through me.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

You told me you missed my “beautiful smile.” I’d never been told that before. You focused on one of my biggest flaws. You saw beauty in the brokenness. You hugged me. You held on tighter. You held on longer. You didn’t notice the fat beneath your long fingers. You didn’t notice the bulges beneath your strong hands.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

I made small changes. You noticed. You flirted. I flirted back. You gave me a nickname. You shared things you read. We spoke of politics. We shared ideas. You walked with me. You put your hand in the small of my back. You waited for me. When you couldn’t, you watched for me. You made sure I was okay. You understood my need.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

You smashed the records in my head. “You’re too stupid!” “You’re too old!” “You can’t do this!” “You don’t belong here!” You broke them to bits with your soft words. “You’re not stupid,” you told me. “You are like me. You don’t understand.” You took the tears from my eyes. You brought me laughter to replace them.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

My spirits were lifted. I began to enjoy my life. Things changed for me. I wasn’t hearing the anxiety- fueled messages anymore. I didn’t flinch when you touched me. In fact, I began to crave your hands. You would share my coffee. You were outrageous. You softened my hardened edges.

I didn’t mean to fall in love…

But here I am. Head over heels. Ass over teakettle. Madly. Deeply. Passionately. Crazy about you. Balls deep. Heart wide open. Freely given. Freely accepting. Believing. Dreaming. Tears falling. Breathing. Thriving. In love with you.  

The Funny Thing About Sisters...

Do you have that one friend who you know will always have your back no matter what? The one who will sit with you in the silence? The one who doesn't care if you speak because they understand your heart without any words being said? I do!

I met my younger "sister" almost 10 years ago when we worked for an online company. I'm not sure how in hell this all even got started, but we began to chat and this friendship emerged. She was simply my person. She kept me sane through the chaos of my life. When I lost my dad, she was online, asking what she could do. When my marriage began to fall apart, the phone calls began. I'm talking 16 hour conversations. I know that sounds like a long time to talk, but those conversations kept me sane. She got me through some long ass nights! Then, when it came time for me to make a decision about ending my marriage, she was the one I talked to. When other people were saying to give my marriage another chance, she told me that I needed to worry about me. She showed me that I was settling for less than I deserved. She was the one who held my hand and helped me do one of the most difficult things I've ever done...save myself. I don't know how I would've made it without her. She keeps me sane and lets me be crazy. She knows my heart better than I know my own some days. When I moved to Wisconsin, she was there. When my ex-friend moved out and left me with no one, she kept me from going so far over the edge that I couldn't get back. When I dated someone who was very toxic for me, she is the one who kept telling me how scared she was that this wasn't going to end well. (She came close to being right on that one.) 

When my world seems to being spinning too fast for me to keep up, she's the one who reminds me to take a deep breath and look at who is making the world spin. It's my world and it will only spin as fast as I allow it. She's also the one who with two words can set me into a fit of laughter that makes my sides hurt! She sends me pins, memes, etc. that have me dissolving into a fit of tears because she knows my twisted sense of humor like no other. She reads my stories and tells me what is working and what isn't. She loves my characters like I do, but she knows when to push and when to lay off. She will interrupt a conversation with "Okay, so off topic for a minute..." and launch into something completely out in left field which leads to nine other strings of conversation only to bring us back to the original topic an hour later. 

Here's the funny and amazing part about us: We've never met! I mean, physically, face to face met. She's a southern girl and I'm northerner. She complains to me about the heat and I share my pictures of my snow with her, listening to her ooh and aah over how nice it must be :) She's an only child and I'm the oldest of two. I remember wanting a little sister when my brother was born. I'm not sure if either one of our mothers could've handled having the both of us as daughters! I'm afraid we would probably have caused more trouble together than we did apart. (I still say I'm the good one! LOL)

As far away as we are from each other, we always message each other "Good morning" to let the other know that we made it through the night and "Good night" to let the other know we've made it through another day. We message (or talk) during the day as time will allow, but we let the other know that we're doing okay. When my ex-friend moved out, I was all alone here. I could've died and the only person who would miss me would be the landlord when rent was due. So, we set up a system to keep each other aware of what was happening. I go out, she knows who I'm going with, where we're going, and what time I should be home. I text her at least once while I'm out so she knows that I'm okay. Even being as far apart as we are, I know that if something happens to me, she'll know before anyone else.

I've always believed that family isn't flesh and blood alone, it's who is there for you when shit hits the fan. That is the perfect example of my little sister! So often I talk about my family, but I neglect to mention the one person who understands my cold, black heart and twisted, tangled mind. I often say "Thanks" to others, but hers is very much a thankless job! 

Saying Goodbye...

I'm a sappy sort so I needed to write this out. Yesterday was a difficult day for me. Way more emotion than I am used to, but I knew this day was coming. I knew this day was coming since I met this young man 2 years ago. I've known it was a definite thing for a year now.

See, yesterday I said "goodbye" to a soldier. It was the first goodbye I've ever said. Usually, I distance myself from friends who are joining the military so I don't get my heart broke or I become friends with them once they return. I've never stayed for the long haul. Unfortunately, this one is the one that is breaking me into a million little pieces.

I met this young man right around his 16th birthday. We've only gotten to be friends in the last year and a half. He has an easy way about him and the woman with social anxiety appreciates that. His quick smile lights up a room and his laughter brightens my day. He is so easy to joke with, yet isn't so silly that serious conversations aren't a possibility. We have had some great times.

I don't let people get too close, but somehow, he burrowed into my cold black heart and settled in to stay. When he joined the Army, he stated he wanted a party. He, then, asked that I stick around to do shots with him before he left. I honored his wish yesterday. It was hard for me to pour that shot of Jack for each of us because this meant it was real. And trust me, at some point, I was hoping this was all a dream.

In a very short period of time, this young man will be leaving and heading in the direction of his dream. A dream he's held since he was small. So, I ask that you keep him in your thoughts and prayers as he journeys on in this direction.

You'll never see this, Matthew, but know that you are loved and missed with every breath that is taken. Dammit, Kid, you've left big old cowboy boot prints on my heart! Take care and come home! I love you as if you're one of my own! 10 weeks, you said! It's only 10 weeks! I'm crossing off the weeks on a calendar until you come back to us, Kid :)

So for today, (and those who know me understand) I will be:

Love ya, Kid!

To My Mom...

I've been a bit quiet lately. I had a blogpost all set to go, but it was simply me, standing on my soapbox, wondering where the fuck respect had gone. So, I left it to sit because I don't think anyone else gives a shit like I do. And I can only write so many posts about respect.

So, I'm back and this is more than a bit premature, but after the past few days, I need to make this blogpost. I realize not everyone is as lucky as I am, but I don't feel like it is up to someone else to teach our children how to be good human beings.

Here it goes: 

To my mom:

I don't often take the time to say "thank you" for the small stuff. You know, the stuff like leading by example, teaching me to cook, bake, sew, file taxes, balance a budget, live on a budget, respect (like how I slipped that in there?), compassion, understanding, and love. I realized the other day (after watching a video on FB about how the schools should be teaching our children this stuff) that I learned how to be a woman from you. From putting on my make up and picking an outfit suitable for "going to town" to showing people respect even when they don't deserve it, I learned it all from you. Now, if you saw me today you may doubt you taught me anything (I arrived at work set to clean. I am sporting pigtails, sweats, an old ratty hoodie, and no make up. Then, I was informed I had to make a run to the bank...as in go inside and interact with people...sigh).

I was 11 days old here. Those boys would grow up to be the only big brothers I ever knew, even though we were cousins.

You gave me a love of books. Maybe it was by accident because you wanted to have 30 minutes to get ready without a baby crawling up your leg. Maybe it was intentional. However, it was meant, I appreciate it. My love of books led me down the rabbit hole with Alice and stumbling into Wonderland, into the Swiss Alps with Heidi, into Yorkshire with Dr. Herriott, and down the banks of Plum Creek with Laura Ingalls. That love led me to create my own worlds and share them with people around the world! It gave me a dream! While I've stepped back so I don't overwhelm myself, I get to live that dream every time I sit down to my computer.

Your love of cooking and baking has led me down some different culinary paths. I've become quite proficient at Asian cooking. I'm not afraid to try different things because you gave me the basics. I've become more daring in my flavor combinations and am not afraid to combine my savory with my sweets (on occasion you may get a taste of heat from chiles in my chocolate cake or cocoa in my pot of chili, salt in my caramel, black pepper in my pumpkin recipes...). I can make a meal for one or 40. I can make it as fancy or rustic as is proper. You taught me fractions! Oh gods, I thought those things would be the death of me! Now, I do it in my head!

As we've discussed recently, I wasn't an easy child. I had a will of my own and seldom wanted to heed the advice of others. I am impatient and frustrate easily. There are times when I don't follow through on something because I simply get so overwhelmed. I always have more irons in the fire than I can deal with. Finishing one task before starting another is something I never learned. It would be nice to focus on one thing at a time. Unfortunately, my mind doesn't allow it. My teen years were fraught with arguments, but we always worked it out in the end. Mistakes were made on both sides, but by your example, I learned to say the words "I'm sorry!"

You taught me to keep a clean house, though my anal retentivness goes beyond most. You taught me to sew a button at such a young age. I even take the extra buttons and tuck them in a button box for my "just in case" days. You taught me to mend holes in clothing instead of simply tossing the clothes in a rag pile. I remember my first job at the truck stop and having to file taxes. I sat at the dining room table and filled out that 1040EZ asking you about every single line. I was so proud of myself. I now let a company do them, but I fill in the blanks :) You taught me how to grocery shop. There are very few name brand products I purchase. You taught me how to live on a budget and how to save for the important things. Some people in my life (you know who you are) think I'm cheap. I prefer the word "frugal". And on that same topic, you taught me the difference between "I want" and "I need". I will overthink a purchase for months before deciding on making a purchase. (How bad do I need this? If I wait for a bit, will it go on sale? How often will I use it? Will I use this more than once a year? Is it absolutely necessary? Can I use it for more than the one thing it is intended for? Will I be able to find it cheaper somewhere else? Is this something I can find at a discount store/Goodwill/St. Vinny's/Salvation Army/Re-store/ garage sale/ flea market?) In turn, you taught me how to let go of things. You made sure I didn't become a hoarder who holds on to things that she has no use for. I hang onto the things that matter. You taught me how to make a home on the simplest of budgets.

You can't tell where I get my sense of humor, can ya?

For all of these things (plus my goofy sense of humor) and more, Mom, I say "Thank you from the bottom of my heart!" My experiences may have molded me into who I am, but you, YOU, showed me how to handle the shit Life throws at me with grace, faith, and a smile.

Your card is on its way to you. Your gift, I'll save for your visit! However, this is the best gift I can give you for now! HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MOM! I love you so very much!

My silly, goofy mom!

Angels Among Us

Let me share a memory that not a lot of people are aware of.

Newly divorced and living in a new town with no friends, I celebrated my first holiday with just my darling boy and me. I wasn't working. I was a broke-ass college student. I was depressed and not looking forward to Christmas. There was no tree. I had put up a few decorations, but there was absolutely no gifts. I felt like a shitty canine mom.

I'm never one to ask for anything because I'm a big believer in only taking what I earn. However, I was a member of a Facebook group and I asked for prayers, positive energy, and good vibes. What ended up happening showed me more love than I can express. This group of people from around the world came together to make Diesel's Christmas a special one. He got presents from around the world. He got a new dog bed, toys galore, a new leather collar, treats, and so much love.

What's funny is that we haven't been the only recipients of the generosity. So many people have been blessed. Even this year, I got a message from a friend who asked if there was anything we needed. I told her that I didn't, but she still sent us gifts. The love continues to grow and I am blessed to be in the presence of angels. My sincerest wish is that someday I will be able to pay all of these blessings forward.

Today's first choice is sort of an obvious choice:

This song always brings a tear to my eye. The message is so deep and profound. Not all angels have wings that are visible. Oftentimes, we are entertaining angels unaware.

And my second choice is this one:

The Spirit of Christmas

Can I tell you how much fun I'm having with this? I'm wondering who is enjoying it more, my mom or me. Every new post triggers a new memory for both of us. And every new memory leads to a new post. So here we go for today:

If you've been reading along, then you know that I am over the commercialism of the holidays. I'm very glad to not have television so I miss out on the holiday bombardment of advertisements. But once upon a time, I knew a man who embodied the very spirit of the Christmas season. He was a truck driver my parents had befriended. He was the sweetest of people. We had spent weekends with his family and went to his daughter's wedding. A very generous family. How this whole thing started I can't remember, but I do remember the way this man would don a Santa suit and provide a holiday for children who wouldn't have had one otherwise. There was a meal and presents, a visit with Santa, and box of food to take home so these families could have their own holiday meals.

The very first year, we delivered boxes of food to families via an RV. The next year, it grew and grew. My mom was baking cookies for this man and his brother to sell on their route. They took the money and funded part of the celebration. They added donations from the boss and others as well as putting in their personal financial contributions. It was amazing!

As a kid who didn't come from a wealthy family, the generosity shown was how the spirit of Christmas was represented. Sure, this man wasn't the "real" Santa, but in my book, it was as close as you can get. And the heart of this man was touched each and every year...enough so that he would excuse himself, take off his Santa beard, and have a bit of a cry. He knew he was making a difference, I just don't think he realized how much of one until he was in that moment and he made a child's  (or a parent's) holiday.

This man kept the spirit of Christmas alive for a young woman who wasn't sure about believing in the miracle of Christmas after a certain age.

And this is how I came to this addition for today:

This is one song we used to sing every year at the Christmas sing. We would wind up the evening with this one:

A Box Full of Darkness

As most of you know, I've been on this journey. Lately, I've been looking at the things that have gone wrong in my life, either due to my bad judgement or because I allowed the wrong people to take the helm (so bad judgement on my part). I've been counting my blessings and learning to bless others as I walk along the yellow brick road.

Here's a thought: What if the darkest parts of the road where actually the times I was most blessed? Those times when I felt the lowest, I walked the path with hesitancy and trepidation, but I still kept putting one foot in front of the other. It was in those times that I found my strength. It was during those times when I found my determination. It was in the moments when I stumbled and fell, but rolled over for a moment or two to look up at the sky to watch the stars, that I saw the light.

I've always loved the dark. Someone once asked me why I loved the darkness as much as I do. I told them "Because in the daylight, we all put on masks and hide our true selves from others. But in the night, the masks come off and we get to be ourselves. The darkest part of the nightfall is where the freaks play." (Freaks is very much an endearment as I am one of those people.)

I don't know why I think the light of day will guide me and show me what I need to see. Bad things hide in the shadows of the daylight, but in the darkness, well, the true light shines. I look at some of the events of my life and think "Wow, what the hell were you thinking? If only you had taken that right turn at Albuquerque. If only you would have stuck to your guns and not listened to friends. If only you would have followed your heart." Do you know what? If I had taken that right at Albuquerque, not listened to others and followed my own heart, I wouldn't be here, in this place, in this moment, in this time. My path may have been easier, but we don't learn anything when things are easy. The struggle is where we learn who we are and what we are made of. I could have avoided a lot of pain and sorrow, but I wouldn't have learned the lessons I needed to learn. I've learned that I do value myself more than I believed, that I'm stronger than I thought I was, that I'm more intelligent than I originally believed, that I am beautiful (maybe not to everyone, but to more than I could have imagined), that I have the right to have crazy colored hair no matter what my age, that tattoos are works of art, but most of all, that I can allow myself to be loved in the same way that I love. 

It is in the darkest times when we truly find ourselves. I don't need people to tell me what I should be studying or where. I don't need to hear that I'm beautiful, intelligent, or incredible. In the darkest times of my life, if I would have listened to my heart, the answers were right there. The stars were the true light, guiding me to my destiny and showing me the path that has been right in front of me all along. 

With this realization in mind, I am putting one foot in front of the other and seeing where this road leads. This time, I'm allowing the stars to light my way and I'm following my heart.

Thank You...

It's that time of year again (where on earth has 2016 gone?) and everyone is posting things they are thankful for. Me? I'm happy to be here!

I'm thankful for my family and friends, for this life I have, and for the ability to do the things I love. Working in the field I do, I appreciate the little things like taking a shower by myself, going to the store (as much as I despise shopping), and even cooking meals. Sometimes it really is just the little things that we don't think about.

As much as people complain about how people have to work on the holidays, there are some of us who don't have a choice. Yes, I am one of those. Stop for a moment though. Who would take care of us in an emergency situation if the doctors, nurses, and EMTs all were home with their families? Who would be there when we have to stop for gas as we travel to see our families? What about those family members who are in nursing homes? Or what about those people who have no family to spend the holidays with? They still need care. They need showers, meals, etc. Not everyone is equipped to deal with an aging or disabled family member.

And I would be remiss if I didn't mention the members of our military who guard us day and night, keeping a vigilant watch over our borders and our families. While I know we are extremely thankful for their service, if they didn't work 365 days  a year, where would we be? And what about their families who are struggling through without them? It's not an easy job being a military spouse or kid! You learn to cherish the time you get, holidays or no.

So, for the people who are working the holiday, I thank you! Yes, even the retail clerks! Do you know why? Because I am me and I will have inadvertently forgotten something. I will have to rush out and pick it up at the last minute. If the store were closed, well, I'd be SOL. And having worked retail, trust me, I've been thanked plenty. From the mother who forgot to pick up formula for her baby to the old man who simply had no place to go for the holidays and decided to do his shopping, I felt lucky to be part of their day.

And while we are on the topic of retail people, can I give you a word of sound advice? If you are out shopping this holiday season, please remember that your cashier is merely doing his/her job! They did not set the prices. They do not know every single item that is on sale in their store, let alone someone else's. They are not responsible if you are shopping out of state and your bank has a spending limit and your card is declined. (Yes, I was told I was incompetent at my job over this issue.) They are not responsible for expired coupons. They are on their feet with minimal breaks dealing with customers who are...let's just say, less than pleasant, and they are barely making minimum wage. They are not there because they wanted a "fun job." They are there because they have to be. They are there working to put a roof over their children's heads, food on their families' tables, and pay their bills. You may be stressed out by all the frantic hassle and mobs of people, but these people are doing it 8 hours a day and not necessarily by choice!

I want to send out a big "Thank You" to all of you who are working this holiday! It's not easy and you'd rather be home with your families, but I appreciate you! I'm thankful you sacrifice time away from your family to be on call for mine. And, in case, I haven't said it enough, I'm blessed to have all of you in my life. Thank you for being here, for reading my blogs, and for supporting me on this mixed up, messed up journey I call my life!

Simply Simplistic...

The other day I was talking to someone and she called me a "country mouse." Now, it was said in a joking manner and I know she didn't mean to hurt my feelings, but the implication was that I'm "simple". Simple in all aspects of my life, including simple-minded. And that pissed me off.

When did being from the country or liking simple things begin to have a bad connotation?

If you've read my previous posts, you know I'm a country girl living in a big city. When I tell you that my hometown was Norman Rockwell-esque, I'm not kidding. Taking a stroll down Main Street will end with you stopping multiple times to talk to several different people. If you would have walked a two block strip of Main Street with my grandmother, it would have taken about an hour because she knew everybody and everybody knew her.

I'm also a woman who is up between the hours of 5 and 6 every morning. I get almost an entire day's work done before I have to actually go to my job. I come home from work and I don't simply sit down and put my feet up. I make dinner, sometimes I bake a little, I walk the dog, do the dishes from dinner, sweep up the floors, all before sitting down to write before bed. Then, I get up and do it all again the next day.

I don't buy cookie dough, I make it because I don't know any other way. I bake bread the way my mom taught me, by hand. No machinery necessary. I seldom buy convenience meals because I don't need all the added junk they put in those things. I have a garden when possible and hit farmers' markets when I can't. I make jam and put up veggies. I prefer jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, and boots to suits, skirts, and high heels. I love hanging my sheets on the line in a summer breeze and I'm not scared of bugs or snakes (mice, yes, but that's different :) ) I love to get dirty and I love the sound of the frogs and crickets singing me to sleep through my open windows. I'm not a fan of air conditioning and I don't care if my hair gets messed up when I drive with the window down (that's what ball caps are for).

This same person was telling me how much she loves taking pictures of the architecture in the city and how you can't find that stuff in the country. I love taking pictures, too. And architecture is one of my favorite subjects. However,you won't find me taking pictures of brick buildings and polarized windows. Clapboard farm houses, old churches with the original stained glass windows, porches where people used to sit and visit, memories of a life long gone in so many parts of this world.
My pictures, more often than not, are nature based. Leaves, water, trees, critters, things that I think most of us take for granted.

My grandma used to sit on her porch every night in the spring and summer. People would drive by and wave. Some would pull in and sit down for a visit. Sometimes it would be a relative out for a drive in the country. Other times, it was a friend/neighbor...because where I come from, those two things were the same. I knew all of the people who lived on the road I grew up on. I didn't get away with shit! If I tried, one of them would be sure to call my parents or grandparents!

So, yes, I'm looking to get out of this big, overcrowded city with the buses and trains going through on a constant basis. I long for a simpler way of life. I want to know my neighbors. If I have to live in a town, I want to live on a tree-lined street where I feel safe. I want the sound of crickets to sing me to sleep on a warm summer night. I want to go to the grocery store and they recognize me. I want to be able to take a walk down a country road on a spring morning and take in the nature that is waking up.

Simple living doesn't mean that I'm simple-minded. It means I can survive without all the noise and crime that comes with city-living. I just like the slower pace of the country life. I'm an old-fashioned country girl who longs for the simpler ways of life, ya know?

Always Be Humble and Kind

This song has been resonating through my life lately. I liked it alright when it was first released, but it wasn't one of my favorites. However...the words are so important.

These aren't things we should have to think about every day. It should be a simple part of human nature. However, so many people aren't taught these lessons as they grow up. And if they are taught those things, they forget them as they age.

Humility is simple. You don't need to brag about the good things you do or how good you are at something. You just do it. There was a very crude comedian who spoke about how people are so quick to talk about their good deeds. He said that just because someone doesn't step forward and demand a pat on the back, that doesn't mean they aren't doing good things. They just do it and don't expect to be applauded for it. It makes me think of all the volunteers and people who work behind the scenes of organizations, but the CEOs are the ones who get the rounds of applause.

And kindness...well, that is just something not many people practice. People are so concerned about themselves and where they are going.They look at a mother with 5 kids, who are dirty and unkempt, and think she must be a horrible mom. They don't see the woman who just got off work, picked her kids up from their grandmother's where they made mudpies, then remembered that she needed to pick up food for dinner and didn't have time to take the kids home to change. They see a woman using food stamps to pay for her groceries, but has her nails done, is wearing designer clothes, and has the latest iPhone.  They aren't seeing that she is a single mom because her sister is in prison and she has custody of 3 kids she wasn't planning on raising. Her designer clothes came from the closet at the local woman's shelter so she could go on an interview for a better job. Her manicure is done at home and the iPhone is a gift from a friend who knows she needs to be able to be contacted in case of an emergency. People miss these things.

What should be simple things to offer others are the hardest because we judge people so harshly. You don't know everyone's story, their history, or their reasoning. I was always told that people in glass houses shouldn't throw rocks or walk around naked. Unless your record is spotless and you have never done wrong, then you definitely shouldn't be judging someone else. 

I find myself making snap judgments on people, then saying, "Gemma, humble and kind." If you look at people and situations through a different lens, you may just find that the world isn't quite as bad as media, politicians, or others would have you believe.

Words to the wise: Always take a breath before judging another. After all, unless you have walked in their shoes on the exact same journey, you have no idea of how a person became the person they are or why they make the decisions they do.