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  • The Middle

    When one is in the middle- of an argument, a happy moment, of something important, a decision..

    Being in the middle is fleeting yet feels like time itself has paused. Questions of do we come out of this? Is there a right decision? Will I ever be able to find a way to the ending?

    Will I survive this part? What will the future hold? More questions than answers. One knows truly in their heart what they want, however the mind-heart problem struggles with one another.

    To breathe, to lean into the middle and let it pass is easier said than done. Many prayers have been tossed full throttle into the heavens of our choice, begging for that ending. Anxiously awaiting the arrival of time.

    Our higher power laughs every time, because the answers, the outcome is always on its way. So why do we fight our lives persistently? Why hold onto to the fact of a beginning, middle and ending of decisions, phases of life, relationships, careers etc?

    Because as humans we were given a birth, we know there is a death. The middle is what we have to hold on to. It is the only part that we make our own lives happen- or do we?

  • Identity

    This blog is quickly becoming an outlet for discussion verses the poetic journey I envisioned.

    I find myself thinking about identity. This world is rapidly becoming a myriad of adjectives. People describing themselves. Honestly, does it matter? We use our identity to fulfill our desired goals. Thinking about it, a person engrossed in the career path, they see themselves as good as their job. Work is good, they are good, therefore they identify as a successful person. Even someone who says they are a woman, well as a woman I am only as good as my title. Feminine, respectful, married, single, parent… all those things describe and give value to the description. Therefore, identifying within myself my goal.

    What we are, is what we do. How we classify our daily lives gives us a purposeful meaning. I guarantee if I spoke to the stranger at the next table, with the first few minutes of conversation, the topic of what one does for a living will come up.

    Just for a moment, ask yourself- how do you describe yourself? It is like the classifications of living things from Biology that I taught my kids. To know someone, we need to go down the list- Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, species.

    Well, we are human – most of us. I first tell everyone I am a mom. It is how I see myself. It is what I do. Many little subtitles come with the job description. People ask what I do. ” I’m a mom”, ” No-what is your job?” response- “I am a mom.” “No what do you do for a living??” ” I am a MOM”.

    I am a mammal, female, woman, mom, single parent, yeah so I am not the best teaching the classifications of living things, let alone describing them myself. One gets the jist. I will try that again- I am a woman, beautiful inside and out, sensitive, deep, philosophical, respectful, teacher, mom, tired, loving, loyal, thinker, aspiring writer and so on.

    Does it matter what my adjectives are to others? Only if one wants to know me, finds interest in me. My identity is my own. It allows me to see the world in a unique way. If society could just realize it does not need to be told or discovered what one is or not, we could finally quiet the speeches and just accept we are all humans, with our own unique view, each with knowledge to help this world go round.

  • What one wants….

    This post is about the elusive relationship, much like bigfoot I will always be on the lookout for the possibility of existence.

    While I admit to the fact a woman is supposed to be “strong” and not expose her true needs- in effort not to scare away those men.. I write without fear.

    I want to be that couple I noticed taking cute photos with one another. I want to be the older couple I watched help one another cross the street. I want a man to say to me “it’s okay the house is a mess; you had a long week with the kids”. or ” hey, get yourself all dolled up, I’m taking you out”. One would see these acts as simple. However, all the above requires consideration. That requires a person to want. Putting someone first is a want. Considering someone else is a want. To have another in our lives who we care for, consider, and be with, that is a want. In turn a woman who is cared for in such a way, will make her man feel wanted, and considered as well. She will cook, hug, smile, and care in her own feminine way. Both wanting is the secret.

    Not all women, or men for that matter seek such loving relationships. That is okay. I’m a woman who seeks all of it. I want to completely open up to someone. I don’t want to hide emotions, to secure a man. It is true intimacy to bare one’s soul, to laugh and cry with someone. To fight and to heal. To conversate, and to sit quietly.

    To commit to the want of it all. Is this possibility truly as elusive as the world makes it?

    Once upon a time, I had a dream. One evening I met someone. This man was not expected. He opened the door for me, held his hand out to lead me through a crowd, he placed his palm on the small of my back to lead and protect me as we walked. He listened to me attentively. I remember in this dream, every time I looked at him, I lost my thought of what I was saying, he was making eye contact, and it made me blush. He was a gentleman and did not take advantage, instead he allowed me to be feminine. Allowed me to be respected. In turn, because of his masculine behavior, I showed my consideration and allowed myself to be a woman he could admire. He showed up unexpectedly and gifted me one night of all the wants I have been looking for. It was if I was living a scene in a fictional novel, and now I am the girl waiting for the possibility to expose itself. Now I am hoping, like a “girl” for another opportunity to arise. To show my respect, to be soft and feminine for this leading man.

    The want of it, is it too much to ask? Am I the only one who notices this world is tough enough to go it alone? Am I the only one brave enough to say what I want??

  • To write what one knows..

    I know emotions. Conflicting emotions. I do not really know trust, that is a statement that needs constant proof to know.

    I do know this morning laying in the morning sun of the eastern shore I felt bliss. As I floated in the clear water with waves gently washing over me, I felt peace.

    Sleeping in the quietest atmosphere I have been granted in months was a desire come true. Listening to the chirping birds simultaneously with the sound of waves, to me, I know felt enchanting.

    Attempting to think on “things”, only postpones the thoughts. Am I forcing decisions and therefore life? Perhaps I should allow life to wash over me as the waves do.

  • Dating at my age..

    The title has such a mystery to it doesn’t it?? Okay, so I absolutely admit I have been reading books on dating! No joke, I am so open about it. It has been over 20 years since I have been “out” there. Wow! There is a game to play, and it is exhausting!

    Firstly, everything is through texting. Okay, seriously? I have been texting, for weeks with one in particular. I use all the quips, sass, flirtatious words, and it is like he has read the same books!! To get a man to ask a girl out is very much a competition these days. Only the slyest survive and actually make it to a face-to-face date.

    I have pulled out all the stops, took my time to reply, so carefully, being positive, cute, flirty, available, but not too available.. even then this particular guy still would not commit to a when and where.

    Women are now thinking, okay, why keep trying? Honestly once you’re in it, you kind of want to win. Whether or not this date actually happens, I want to say I tried! And there it is! I am playing the great game. He has now won, because I am chasing. But my value- meet me in person and find out!!

    I sought some male advice as well. I was not kidding in my earlier comment. My male friend gave me an example of how he “hooked” his now girlfriend. It so reminded me of the back and forth texting I now find myself in.

    I equate dating today like the housing market. Sometimes it’s a buyers’ market-other times a sellers’ market. Well ladies, it is the men’s turn! It is as if they test us with every comment, emoji & blunt question.

    I am going to chalk all this experience up to practice. I want a man to be a man. I just want one to lead so I can be feminine. Having to “work” for it is exhausting. I can’t say certain things, or I’m not fun, can’t make certain comments because them I’m not interesting, if I’m too interesting- heck he may get the wrong idea. And I am not that girl!

    These so-called men on dating apps, say they don’t like games, ha! They want us to play, fight for them, and act as if we are grateful. Wasn’t evolution the other way around? Males fought for the right woman??

    At my age, I am not looking to breed. I am not looking for a man to be my savior, or Finacial backbone. Guys- I just want to get dressed up and laugh, flirt, feel like a woman for a few hours! Is that really too much to ask for?

    Just saying, fellas- do not claim to be looking for that one”, do not say you want the girl who has it all figured out, can be a wife, mom, and intelligent, sassy, etc. just fess up- you want a woman to show off in society and be a porn star in the bedroom. Well, guess what? Even a girl next door type like me has all that, and I can cook, bake, raise the kids too! I will even make you look good in front of your friends.

    Just saying… knock yourselves off that pedestal. Take a girl out, sense, smile, touch and feel the date. Quit trying to rate us by texts. Maybe, just maybe you will find what you say you are looking for..

  • The art of being alone..

    I promised myself when starting this blog, not to get too personal. So this one goes out to society in general.

    Why is it that when a single woman is out by herself men wonder if there is something wrong with her? While I have friends, I do not need them to be my bodyguard, nor do I require them to be by my side in order for me to have a good time. For most women such as myself we have our mom friends, those we make small talk with & have playdates planned. Then for me at least, I have one or two really good friends I share my soul to.

    Men of a certain age married or not, find it in their happiness to be in a group, playing sports, drinking, or planning parties around the above. That is completely fine if it is one’s style. There are women groups I find that do the same, and these women have known one another for years. For someone of my particular childhood I did not receive such chances of developing lifelong relationships. Being of no particular culture or language I do not automatically have others I can spend time with on the basis of cultural compatibility either.

    If one needs a famous reference of why it is perfectly fine to go out to dine or view a movie on one’s own ask Keanu Reeves. While he is a cutie, I am doing things on my own these days simply because it brings me my happiness. Not because he says it is cool.

    I find it distasteful when a “gentleman” asks why I am all by my lonesome. Perhaps it is because the company of someone with such a narrow view of a stranger is a turn off for me.

    Friends are great, and the family we choose is even greater. Seriously though, when did it become a requirement to only go out in the world with others to surround us? For single men I can understand their question- they worry a woman who does not hang with her friends all the time would be a leach or burden to them. What an opinion to gather in thirty seconds of meeting. ((Babe you can have all the friends you want, while you’re out I’ll be home with the kids, or reading my favorite book- no leach here!))

    Another thing to consider; women such as myself are still in the thick of the parenting web. We can only gather so much time for ourselves, and for me I do not always want to plan small talk playdates just to get out of the house for a bit. These times can be fun for all, just to me not a necessary endeavor.

    Being on one’s own in a coffee shop seems normal, I have my laptop, or book, so it is assumed I am working, or busy. But being in a restaurant eating a meal, attending a movie; why is it assumed I am lonely??

    My thoughts on those who dare to question my being alone, – perhaps it’s because they themselves do not hold the bravery. While I am coming up with quick, witty, even snarky comments the next time a “man” (lol)asks what I am doing all by my lonesome- I will surely let them aware of their rudeness in turn.

    Yes, I am learning how to be alone. I have been for some time now. I found relying on others to make one happy kills a relationship. Unless I truly, deeply know myself, my boundaries, my value I will not be a good partner to one of those men that are left for a gem like me to choose from…

    Okay so this post had a little “impolitesse” to it, and not all of society may have narrow assumptions. I speak of my recent experience in the society I am facing at my age.

    Really- wish me luck!!-

  • Through another’s eyes

    It has been a blessing I have given myself to truly listen to others of this world. Happening upon conversations with strangers & making acquaintances.

    I wonder as we all go about our busy lives if any of us truly take the time to input the information from those around us. It was when I watched someone, studying their eyes as they looked upon a farmer’s field it really struck me, there are so many things I myself see as everyday occurrences that this person may view as something special.

    Where I grew up, and in my travels, I drive by fields this time of year of corn, barley etc. To me this is natural. It is by no means prosaic. Our local fields are a thing of beauty. Americans are still privileged to till our earths soil. Sadly, this concept will one day be a part of our history. As farmers are going extinct with imported foods, and chemically induced products entering our markets.

    That will be another post though, my feelings on tradition. With that thought however- studying someone else’s eyes I wonder what it was like for them, growing up in another Country. Does it feel as if it was another world? To me growing up in the rural life, I was lucky enough to learn about growing my own lettuce, properly driving a tractor, and butchering our food properly. In general, the experience of freedom was taught to me. The foundation God has given us. The birthright I was given was complete opposite of some. Sure, we all watch the news, read of the unfortunate, even make ourselves feel better by giving to charity that one time of year… what is our impact though?

    While single handedly we cannot save the world, and can only pray for Governments’ to do better at their jobs I wonder what can we do in the meantime?

    It is understanding. When watching someone in an experience I accurately & faithfully understand this other person’s life. Whether they know it or not they are teaching me and giving me knowledge to change my own perspective for the better.

    So, staring at a local field this time of year I can imagine the hardships of finding food for a family to eat, the lack of that freedom to grow one’s own food, the inability to do anything for oneself without the local government wanting control. Yes, we pay taxes, but does anyone know of a farmer sent to jail because while tilling his soil gave an opinion on our Country or our Government? This OfCourse is my own example… of the hardships faced by Gods children in other Countries that without proper perspective can feel a world away from our Country we call home.

    Countries that call themselves a Democracy are still putting their citizens in jail for simply stating an opinion or even rumored to do so. Our birthright of sharing opinions, voting & fighting for one side or the other is taken for granted as much as the field of barley growing in the summer sun.

    I once thought of myself as one side of our government verses the other, more and more I am realizing that my thoughts are muddled. How can we help others by blocking them form their businesses, and how can we stay our traditions and feed our children healthier products by shoveling out the old for the quick and advanced? How can we help others escape persecution but close our borders? How can we advance in technology while sticking it to our foreign neighbors that at this moment may be raising a citizen that has the answer. Most importantly how can I find a path to help a child in another country learn how to grow their own lettuce? To feel deeply what I was able to feel of the birthright God gave me? The honor I felt raising my own food is indescribable. The joy I was given to watch my child experience an egg hatching a baby chick is now a core memory of happiness. These experiences are my own but can be shared and taught.

    With our own neighbors here in our states I say let us start with home and pray the trend reaches the furthest areas of our earth. If one can only purchase and give to charity that is truly some help. But if one has a skill, they should share it without fear. I am not claiming to be better than the next. However, I am stating for myself, when the sun rises into tomorrow, I will be reaching out to my own neighbors not too far down the road to find out how I can share my experiences of childhood and pray it reaches the distance. I will no longer say why bother? There may be that one or even two others that truly and faithfully listen to me. That are looking for someone to gain knowledge from. This I say, I want to be a better person because of someone else’s perspective. Because they saw an everyday occurrence to me, as something of appeal to them.

    As for that person viewing the field, seeing it as such beauty I cannot wait to experience more insights to another part of Gods world. I thank you for leading me to so many thoughts.

  • Try the Peking Duck…

    The purposeful irony of this particular Italian restaurant had my thoughts churning about culture, traditions and of course food.

    Not to offend any Italians in this post, I simply found myself wondering when duck became a menu option, especially in the most Italian themed restaurant I happened upon to date. We Americans know Italian food as pasta, tomatoes, and meats. While we greatly enjoy this cuisine, the traditional origin of duck comes from the Ming dynasty. Our idea of noodles began in the Middle East, & the tomato we know, and love started its trend in South America. Apparently once this fruit spread through Europe it was simply a decoration in one’s kitchen. Naturally the Italian culture gets an accommodation for creating such an idea as Gelato. Which for my oldest was one of the first desserts she tasted at a young age.

    Cultures have lived next to one another for centuries each holding their own “claim to fame” in traditional recipes. This idea actually makes me a bit jealous. To have been raised and taught from a young age a family recipe that one would argue over.

    Recently as I searched for dessert recipes, I was taught that Baklava has been claimed by a few countries. The oh so yummy dessert with syrup I knew as a Greek recipe, is also a recipe of Türkiye. While other Mediterranean and Middle Eastern countries like to hold their version of this dessert, the Turkish baklava uses pistachios, and served at celebrations, while the Greek culture uses walnuts.

    The idea of many cultures intertwined for years, recipes trickling down for generations, and thankfully to other parts of the world such as ours, gives me a reminder that it is not just America that shares cultural neighbors. The idea of food truly bringing people together to enjoy creations with found recipes from our grandparents’ cookbooks, or even by a newly acclaimed chef is something we should all be grateful for.

    History has more to do with what we read in books; it is ingrained in each one of our pasts to share with the future.

    Just “food for thought”

  • Hello World!

    If you happened upon my site, or were dragged to it because of supporting me, or just curiosity, thank -you. I am an amateur writer, like most though I have something to say. Words can often feel empty without another to hear them.

  • The Pub

    The best way to describe this local hang out, is an Irish themed pub. However, some green decor, cute signs and one (maybe actually came from Ireland) dish on the menu… was the only “Irish culture” it offered. The food was good, though; I had an “American” style chicken sandwich and a rich chocolate mousse cake to finish.

    I bring up this adorable restaurant because it was there, I listened to the local conversations. I really listened. Some farmers in for a few beers at the end of a long week, friends gathering for a laugh, and the good ol’ boys with a story or two to tell.

    I happened to sit next to one particular man with the life story one only reads about. I will call him “C”. I listened as he told me his hard knock story that he owns with pride. Currently a tenant on a six acre farm, he started his life working for his dad, then moved to fixing engines for a $1.80 an hour. It was then he fell in love with volks wagons. Yes, he is that man-, that in his youth hopped in his VW bus he fixed up himself with a few friends and drove cross country to Haight-Ashbury. Now admittedly I have heard mention of this famous place, but I did have to do some research when I returned to the comforts of my hotel room.

    Haight-Ashbury is famous for its counterculture movement. Now when I think of Hippies of the past, I will think of this place. Apparently in the 1960’s it was the place to feel the vibe. I now also know the summer of “love” was in 1967. “C” was one of the many to experience that summer. Thank goodness he did not get into too much detail! I also listened of his travels to Germany, London, and a few other places… I honestly did not catch the entire list in his fast-paced conversing.

    On the other side of me sat the cutest group of ladies. One with her short white hair with light pink highlights. Hearing them ask the bartender over and over again if it were going to rain, then to watch them look at their smartphones for a weather report, left me sitting there thinking that will be me one day. At least I hope so, this group of women were talking of their upcoming trip to Austria. Why there I will never know, but what a life.

    As I barely finished my oh so rich, why did I eat so much dessert the pub became louder with local conversation, good friends and laughter. I ask Who could not walk out of such a charming non-Irish, Irish pub?

    In the end our meeting, with a shake of hands “C” asked if I like Swiss chard. “Yes!” I then proceed to tell him of my Great Uncle and his garden. How he always left fresh produce gifts on our door. I was then the lucky receiver of fresh produce and a bonus of fresh basil from his garden. I felt no issue of accepting such a blessing of a gift. In just one day, even in this historic part of town, I watched many neighbors selling and trading their fresh grown blessings with one another.

    Houses have signage leading people to their homes to experience and purchase the product they are lucky enough to grow. Walking through these small streets I have even seen an artist or two water coloring on canvas in their gardens.

    Yes, these towns still exist. I am one of the lucky few that had a chance to visit. Maybe in just a few years I can call myself a resident of such an artisan homegrown town.