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Showing posts from February, 2010

Band-Aid is my Wingman

Band-aid is my wingman. She sticks by my side at all times. When my kiss won't heal, when my whispered words aren't enough to soothe, my buddy Band-aid steps in. I've used her to cover more than bleeding elbows and scraped knees. Just her presence placed gently over a perceived injury will calm and allow us all to carry on. I guess a Band-aid in my house acts a bit like a Jewish Yarmulke, worn as a reminder that God is above - the Band-aid is a reminder that love is about and can be carried around with you. Maybe I should frolick about placing Band-aids on wounded spirits. If only it could help others like it does my daughters. More likely, the "Band-aid Fairy" would just draw suspicious looks. So, I'll refrain and keep my Band-aid superpowers in the family. It's nice having a reliable back-up.

The New Oregon Trail

An adventure begins when I step off the sidewalk onto the gravel trail. A branch snaps as I tread over its fallen respite. I have no idea where the moss-escorted path will lead. Pine trees accompany me. I hum, mingling in a tune with the sounds of a nearby stream. My scent joins the fresh smell of rain. I don't walk through unknown forest, I walk with it. Everything feels vibrantly green here, including me. Inhale the given abundance. I'm glowing with an appreciation of my new found connection to nature. The land is fertile with life and sharing its energy with me. Feeling giddy with bravery, my tennis shoes pick up a perky pace. I pass a slug, inadvertently disrupting its purpose. My sounds interrupt and the bluebird swishes off to find a different meal. My breath puffs out ahead, as my feet crunch below. Slip on mud, push at an overgrown fern, squish an innocent mushroom, snap, hum, inhale... just by being here, I'm intruding. I'm an invader on t

I Dream Stories...

When I dream about stories, I write about dreams. I will wake up feeling like I'd fallen asleep at the movies. The picture won't stay in my groggy mind for long, so I race to capture its essence in ink. These dreams don't only happen while asleep. I'll be mid-stir in macaroni when an image will wander into my conscience and my husband laughs as I run upstairs to let it out onto my computer before it tip-toes away. When I'm moving these ideas from mind to matter, it's LIFE is in the flow - if I look up, or the phone rings, or a child enters... if I falter, it can easily die before ever coming to life. I've learned to write quickly, on whatever I can grab and in the dark.