A LIFE in the DAY

Some days are a lifetime long. Seriously. Other days just fly by. Recently I had one of the rare and unwelcomed lifetime types.

No alarm for this girl, just opening eyes and clearing the fog telling myself what day it is, looking at the clock, thinking quickly of what is on today’s list and then getting my old and sometimes unwilling body out of bed. Straight to the Keurig for the morning brew. Back to take care of personal matters while coffee brews. Add cream to the coffee and if possible head out to the deck in PJ’s with coffee and smokes in hand. Seven days a week, I do this. Until the weather won’t allow for the deck perching, then I sit at the kitchen table or curl up with a blanket on the loveseat.

This particular day, I had a short list of things to do. The toy chest needed to be reclaimed. It had gotten out of control and needed a total purging. I know my limits so I didn’t put anything else on today’s list. Just go attack that toy chest, after coffee, smoke and deck time, of course.

I gathered myself together and headed for the shower. After which I noticed my bathroom needed some attention, so I cleaned it up and put up fresh linens and tossing the towels into the basket decided to throw in a load of laundry on my way to the toy room.

Those little unscheduled tasks done, I headed toward the toy room.  The family room, aka sports arena, was a mess. Roomy had been snacking and packing. Next to his chair were water bottles, cf diet coke cans, some wrappers and dirty socks. UGH! Picking that crap up and taking care of it was not on my list, but okay, that was done and the vacuum needed to be run, so I might as well do that. That lead to washing the table covering and dusting and oh, the washer shut off, drying the first load and starting another.

Now, on to the toy room passing through the downstairs guest room, I remember I didn’t pull the sheets off the bed when it was last used. I’m going to be down here today, so I may as well get those sheets washed, too. Pulled them off, carried them to the washing area and dropped ‘em on the floor.  Back to the toy room.

The little kitchen set that the kids all play with needs a good scrubbing so I empty it of all sorts of crazy things and toss out a couple of things in the process. When I was finishing that, the dryer buzzed so off to the laundry area to fold, dry another load and wash another. Done.  Back to the toy room.

Opening the toy chest, I see so many tiny little pieces of fake food that I am a little overwhelmed. Where am I going to put these so that they will stay reasonably clean and handy for the kids. How about the shopping cart? In little cloth bags?  YES. Great idea. Now, where did I put those little cloth bags? I have several, but where did  I store them? 

This room has many cupboards; they must be in one of those. As I open the first one, I realize these are full of crap. Really full of stuff I will never use and don’t have a clue why I saved. Yet, here it is. I grab some garbage bags and start chucking.

Did I mention there are many cupboards?  Yes, 8 uppers and 8 lowers…all pretty much full AND the counter top between them, loaded with JUNK.

The washer interrupted several times or the dryer did, but I managed to get the entire counter and all cupboards cleaned out AND found the cloth bags. What did I want to put in those?

The laundry got done, but not put away. The sheets got washed, but not back on the bed. The toy room got purged and cleaned, but not the toy chest. The bags got found, but not filled.

I made about 53 trips up and down the steps with junk removal and my back was killing me, but I did accomplish a lot of stuff on this extremely LONG day. I felt as though I had been working for days when I decided to quit and order dinner in.

I went to the kitchen, made a cup of coffee, my first since morning coffee.  Looking over at the clock, I was sure the power had been out. It said it was 1 o’clock! WHAT? I’m exhausted, it can’t be 1 o’freakingclock!  It has to be 5 or closer to 6!  I have 4 clocks in my kitchen, coffee pot, stove, micro and one just cute clock. They all said 1 or a few minutes past.  UGH.

I did the only thing I could do at that point. I took my coffee out on the deck and sat my tired butt down. I watched the birds, stared into the pool and I enjoyed the rest of my afternoon. Leaving all those undone things, undone. Not something I am usually comfortable doing, but on this longest day of the year, I left it all undone.

Now the odd thing, the rest of the day flew past. Before I knew it, Roomy was home and it was dinner time. I was sitting for more hours than I was working, but the working time dragged and the sitting time flew. Hummmmm.  I think that is odd and it has taught me; sit more and let the time fly. I was very happy that afternoon and the next day’s list was already made.

Finish the undones and then clean out the toy chest.

The toy chest has still not been cleaned out and the bags are still empty.

Well, fall is approaching and those kinds of chores will be easier to do when I don’t want to be outside or even see outside and those days are not too far off.

Organization…I need more organization of my time.  One thing does NOT have to lead to another. Focus. I need focus. Oh, FB notifications…gotta run…..

Jo

HOPELESSLY DEVOTED

Hopelessly Devoted

August 28, 2012

Devotion is such an all consuming decision. In my own life I have not been devoted to a lot of things, but those I have are things which still have my complete devotion. 

I am devoted to keeping my family a unit. Not a bunch of individuals who share me, but a real connected body of humans who genuinely enjoy each other’s company. I am devoted to having my grandchildren grow up knowing and loving each other and having memories of spending time with Grandma Jo and Punkin. I want them to remember our house as a fun place with lots of hugs, kisses, laughs and good food.  I want their parents to be close throughout their lives, even after I am gone. So often you see families disintegrate after the mother passes. I so hope that isn’t the case for my family.

I am devoted to my marriage. I will not divorce again and I will not live in a miserable marriage, so I have devoted myself to making this marriage a good one. We like each other and I find that to be a very helpful tool in keeping us close and out of harm’s way. Our arguments are few and far between and I am pleased about that. I do not like arguments. I do not like drama and I do not like being angry. It has taken a few years to figure it out, but I now understand no one can really make me angry, I have to get there on my own. Someone can give me a reason to be angry, but it’s up to me to go there or stay calm and in my happy place. Sarcasm sometimes helps me out with that because sarcasm makes me happy.

My husband is not a push over, but he can be persuaded many times with logic and if that fails, threats. It works for me and sarcasm is often lost on him, so that works, too.

If he cannot be persuaded, then because I am devoted to him, I understand the issue is important to him and I give in. That works, too.

I am hopelessly devoted to being the best daughter my mom could want. I want to know that there is nothing she wishes I would do that I haven’t already done or plan to do very soon. Her comfort and her needs and wants are my priority as this point in my life and I am devoted to her simply because I love her and she needs me.

Devotion comes easily when your target is something or someone you admire, love, worship or need. My devotion is given to those people in my life who mean the most to me and also to a few causes or charities that I hope will change the world and also to my own mental and physical health.

I am devoted to God. I am devoted to living my life in grace. 

I need to maintain a certain amount of good health in order to carry out my devotion to others, so I try to do that. Sometimes, I’m good at it, sometimes the Twinkies, the  chocolate cake, Belgium Dark Chocolate, chips with Nutella or French fries win.

My mental health is preserved (?) by writing. All the words that bang around in my head all day and some nights must be written or typed. The stories must be shared. The thoughts or lessons or ideas must be documented because being hopelessly devoted to sanity seems a good thing.

And right this minute I am devoted to getting this posted and getting some sleep. 

Jo

THE SEASONS

Moon over Durand August 27, 2012
photo~Jo Heroux

Don't know how it happens

Nor do I know if it matters at all

But this night of a full moon 

Brings me back, back before the fall.

The fall, falls
Leaves are all over the ground

They aren't bright, they aren't alive

They're just there.

It's not lovely, it's death all around.

Tho' the chill in the air brings me down

The shimmering light warms my soul

It's that ball of bright light 

Which fools me, if only tonight.

Still the darkness fills every pore

It seeps into my battling self

I can't keep it at bay

I can't fight it off anymore.

Fall is death for all things that I crave

My flowers, the trees and the grass

The pool is not open nor sparkling

My bones will stay chilled until May.

Closing eyes to remember my summer

Wrapping tighter inside my big robe

Seeing sunshine and blooms and the water

Getting through this is oh, such a bummer.

Winter comes and it goes and I live through it

I even smile at the first sign of snow

It cleans otherwise nasty browness

But I don't venture out to feel it.

Spring arrives and my heart feels lighter

I clean up and I plant and I putter

I open that pool with great vigor

Every cell of my being is brighter.

Waking to hot, humid days

My eyes are covered with shades

Coffee on the deck

Hummers feeding and chirping

I'm alive again, I feel again. 
The water glistens again

I am warm. I am happy. 
I am ME in Summer.

Jo

Bff Post "Moon"

A beautiful super moon from July 2012.  ♥ full moons.

Jo

PEACE

Living in peace is my choice.

Some of my life I have lived with drama and fed off it and been eaten alive by it. Some of my life I have lived in darkness, mentally incapable of pulling myself out and there is no peace there. Some of my life I have lived in sadness and longing. I don’t think I am unusual. I believe most people’s lives have all or most of these components if one lives long enough and endures each of them in order to move on to something else. Not always something better, but something else. Peace is hard to find if your mind is at war with your body. It is hard to find if your morals are at war with your desires. It is very hard to find if you are in pain either physically or mentally.

I have also lived much of my life in happiness and peace.

I have found now that acceptance is the basis for my own personal peace. It really is that simple for me. I live relatively physically pain free. I am blessed. I also live primarily mentally free of pain; again blessed. But I know that even when one or the other of these invades my life, it is temporary and if I can DO something to make it less painful, I do it. I just do it. If not, then I accept that I cannot fix or change it and I ACCEPT it. Truly and completely accept it. That means that I live WITH it. I do not live in spite of it or because of it. I live with it. I make it part of my thinking, part of my actions and accept that for this day, at least, I will have to live with pain of some kind. I will not allow it to control me or be what I am about; instead, I will live my life, my way with the pain in the background. If the pain keeps me from being as physical as I’d like to be, I’ll just be less physical until it passes. If it is mental pain that is trying to take me over, I will remind myself of all the blessings in my life, grieve or ache or whatever for a short time and then live with it. Live my life with smiles and laughter and love because the pain cannot take that away; it is who I am. I am happy, I laugh, I smile a lot and I enjoy life. This is how I have peace in my mind.

Peace in the world is possible, but highly unlikely because it requires people to be nonjudgmental and accept others as they are. Our own morals or beliefs will never be everyone’s and for many people that is unacceptable. Peace requires that be acceptable. I pray for world peace. I pray for war to be something in our history that my grandchildren would read about and understand that dying for a principle or dying to spread democracy may never again be necessary, but instead a lesson learned. Allowing others to live by their own standards and their own beliefs means we stop going to war to protect our freedom because no one will be trying to take it away. I know that is a pipe dream, but I continue.

Peace in my life means I cannot judge others. Is that difficult? It was. It isn’t now. I have come to understand that my beliefs work for me. I know that my moral conduct works for me. It isn’t necessary that everyone agree with me. I can completely love someone who believes nothing close to what I believe. I can love the person for who they are, not what they believe. I can respect someone who is on the complete opposite side of absolutely everything I think is right because that isn’t who they are, it’s what they believe. It is none of my business. I can discuss our differences without becoming defensive, or offensive. It’s good for me to hear both sides or all sides of a subject and I enjoy doing that, but I do not enjoy arguing or fighting or taking a stand or drawing a line in the sand or whatever, so I will often just bow out of a conversation if it is going that way. Religion, Politics or Morals are all subjects about which I have an opinion, but I will not engage in arguments to defend my thoughts. I simply respect the opposite view and move on to something else.  This is how I have peace in my life.

Besides praying for good health and happy thoughts, I also pray for everyone in my life to have peace of mind and a quiet heart. Know, my dear and precious readers, I wish this for each of you. 

The old hippy in my sends you peace and love!

Jo

Snapshot

There is a happy snapshot! A clean, freshly bathed Sadie.  She is 11 years old and HATES having a bath. Well, to be fair, she likes the bathing part, it's the blow drying and trimming part she hates. Unfortunately for her, she was born a Bichon Frise and must be blow dried or her curly hair mats tight to her skin, which would be big trouble. So, blow dries are required and her human is relentless about insuring she is well groomed. Let me share with you, quietly, it exhausts me! That sweet and precious little girl turns into Dogzilla during the brushing and trimming part of this process. She is all teeth and fast as lightning. Usually choosing my hands as her hated target. I am not as quick as I once was and I was never fast. So far, I have only received a few puncture wounds and none for a few years. She is now just threatening and reminding me she COULD, if she was so inspired, tear me up. She weighs 17 pounds. I outweigh her by well over 100 pounds and yet, she believes I will stop if she persists. I have never stopped and for the last 9 years, the baths have been completed without serious injury, to either of us. ♥ her.

Now this would be Jake (furbaby) and Jack (human baby). I took this photo in 2009 and chose it because you can kind of see the attitude of the rat terrier in this shot. On a mission or asleep, that's Jake. He has very few moderate moments. This is without question the most affectionate dog we have ever owned. He craves love and attention and he gives as good as he gets. He will swim or play fetch as long as someone will throw something either into the pool or down the hall or even across the room.  Run, fetch, swim, fetch...endlessly and by the way, Jake is 12 now. Jack is 3, in case you wondered. Still cute as a bugs ear, too.

This picture was taken during Jack's fascination period with Jake. He constantly wanted to touch him. Jake was a little afraid of Jack and honestly, with good cause! He was escaping the bedroom before Jack could fall down and crawl after him.

♥ my boys.

Here is my favorite rose bush in full bloom. This past summer it bloomed longer than it ever has. Nearly 3 weeks of blooms. It's a one time bloomer, so when it is finished, that's it until the next summer. Sure do wish I could see this bloom all summer like the other roses.


I love this bush not only because it is beautiful, which you can see, but also because it was a gift from a neighbor who I adored. Since his death this bush has become a piece of my friend left for me to tend. I love the feeling I get taking tender loving care of this very special rose bush.


It always makes me smile. It makes me smile and remember how lucky I was to know Gary and call him my friend. ♥





Three little snapshots that make me smile...hope you did, too.

Jo

Bff "Elvis"

Elvis   ♥

No pictures and no music links...just ♥.

As many of you, my loyal and precious readers (both of you) know, I am a gigantic and fanatic Elvis Presley fan. I own every song he recorded and I have duplicates of several. I have a lot of his movies, though not all of them. I have a few of his concerts on tape and CD and I do now and then, just have an all Elvis all day kind of day.

I once had an Elvis room in my home. Okay twice. I had a large collection of memorabilia that rivaled some of the museums I have visited. I still have a porcelain Graceland (his home) and have visited the real one in Memphis 4 times. I have the Elvis and Barbie dolls, some beautiful music boxes and have sold a good deal of the other fun stuff I used to display in my room. It was fun for a long time, but I was tired of it and kept only the things that I really love to have near me. Some special things that one day my grand daughters might like to share among themselves. That would make me very happy.

I not only think his voice was perfection, I love his gospel songs and the fact that contrary to what many people believe about his life, he was a deeply spiritual man. He believed he answered to God and that he would be judged. I listen to his gospel music often and sing along because it makes me feel so peaceful.

A love song sung by Elvis is a LOVE song. I have so many favorites that listing them would be ridiculous. I am particularly obsessed with “The Hawiian Wedding Song”, for two reasons. I love Hawaii, I love “Blue Hawaii” (one of his movies, for those of you who are uninformed) and both reasons make that song so romantic and so meaningful to me. Mike and I have spent several anniversaries in Hawaii and have always managed to hear someone do that song while there or we have played it ourselves in our hotel or car. It is a beautiful and loving song. “I do, love you, with all my heart.” The ending of the song.

I have several books about him. “Elvis and Me” by Priscilla Presley…very revealing and very good read for any fan. The complete book of his movies is another I love to read. The movies he was so disgusted with making because he wanted to be a real actor in a great movie, turn out to be some fluff and a few very good movies. “Blue Hawaii”, “Stay Away Joe”, “Charro”. “Love Me Tender” to name just a few of the really good ones. He made a very good western star as an Indian, Half-breed or cowboy.  And may I add, he made a very nice Hawaiian boy. J

Many people think Elvis was just a drug addicted waste and basically killed himself by overdosing.

The doctor who provided his basic care was called on the carpet but not prosecuted because Elvis got pills from several sources and since no one told him he couldn’t, no one told him he couldn’t do anything. He was Elvis and he could get what he wanted when he wanted it. I believe, he never thought he was endangering his life or his health. They were prescription drugs and I think he believed them to be safe. It is important to remember this is a southern boy with little education and scholastic endeavors were not his strong point. He didn’t drink and smoked only a short time because he felt they weren’t healthy. He practiced martial arts and earned several belts in Karate to keep in shape and to protect himself. In later years, he became an expert marksman for the same reason, self protection. He was a bit paranoid, but also had fans chasing him and hanging at his front gate relentlessly, so perhaps it wasn’t really paranoia.

This man lived a big life. He was rich beyond his imagination and could buy whatever he saw that he liked. He did that. To marry the girl he fell in love with he managed to get her moved into his home before the wedding, with her parent’s approval even though she was still a teenager, at the time. They shared a bed, but did not have sex until their wedding night. Priscilla became pregnant immediately and gave birth to their only child 9 months later on February 1, 1968. They seldom had sex after her birth. Elvis had a problem with intercourse with a mother, speaking volumes about his mother issues. He loved his mother more than anything or anyone and her death changed him and also removed his touchstone. She kept him grounded, without her, he was wild and careless. Priscilla left when Lisa Marie was a mere 2 years old. Elvis loved her until the day he died, but they never reconciled or even came close. They remained friends always.

There is no singing voice before or since that will immediately stop me mid sentence, to hear, to listen and to love this man and his amazing talent. He was a beautiful young man and a bloated and drugged middle aged man who still managed to look incredibly sexy and confident on stage, though he never felt confident in performance. He continuously wondered why people paid to hear him sing. He loved it, but never knew how incredible he was. He was a humble man, contrary to public opinion.

“Aloha from Hawaii” was a concert he did in the seventies for charity and now most fans agree, it was without question his best concert performance ever. He sang nearly every hit song he had in that show and each was done to perfection. He was heavy, he was sweating profusely and I still watch it and feel like a teenager watching her idol all over. The man is a one of a kind. Never before and never since, absolutely no one compares with his success or his talent.

A true national treasure. Southern born. Rags to riches. Served in the Army. Loved his God. Became a star far too quickly and was never handled correctly. He was used and marketed and unfortunately never lead and guided.

His run here was short, but the man lived. He lived and he left a legacy for my children, their children and all generations to come. His music is forever and my adoration of him eternal.

Rest in peace my inspirational singer. Thank you for the gift of my lifetime, the music of my life.

Jo