Now I know, a refuge never grows
from a chin in the hand and a thoughtful pose
Gotta tend the earth if you want a rose.
~Indigo Girls

The good news:  business is booming.  It’s going so well, in fact, I find myself rather busy these days. 

The not-so-good news:  business is booming.  So much so, I find it’s time to say farewell to this particular blog.  I will however be launching a new web-site soon, and when that comes to pass, you will be among the first to know.

I appreciate your continued support and look forward to our continued cyber-walk together through Writer’s World. 

In the meantime, Carpe Diem Y’all, Michele:)

 I Dream Big.  Really Big. – My Son

It’s back to school.  Who knew my son, the baby, the jock, the quiet one would turn out to be the poet I most admire this week?  English is not his favorite subject.  Dyslexia makes sure of that.  Yet, this assignment struck a chord with him and his words strike a chord with me.  Is it because he’s my son?  Maybe.  Nevertheless, with his permission I share the following:

I am me and only me.

I wonder all the time.

I hear the music I like to hear.

I want to succeed.

I am me and only me.

I pretend I am a ninja.

I feel good when I do something good.

I touch the smooth wood of a baseball bat.

I worry about not passing.

I cry when I laugh real hard.

I am me and only me.

I understand the game.

I say just don’t give up.

I dream big.

Really big.

I try to work as hard as I can.

I hope to succeed.

I am me and only me.

Carpe Diem y’all, Michele

I reckon being ill as one of the great pleasures of life, provided one is not too ill and is not obliged to work till one is better.  ~Samuel Butler, The Way of All Flesh, 1903

First, Thank you for the sweet emails and comments.  They are much appreciated.

Second, a confession.  I told a bit of a white fib when I said in my last post, “it isn’t anything serious”.  It was, hence, the many weeks away from the keyboard.

Third, I’m happy to report, that because of proactive doctors, wonderful surgeons, and good medicine, and the best, most caring family and friends on the planet, I’m on the mend, and feeling better than I’ve felt in quite some time.  I think over the next few posts I’ll tell the story using exerpts from my journal.  I’ll call it Carpe Diem Rewind.

I’m still not “back to work” yet, but feel well enough to sit at a keyboard today, and string a few words together.  

Here are words I think go particularly well together:

Peanut Butter

Grape Jelly

No Cancer.

Carpe Diem Y’all, Michele 

“A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor’s book. ” ~Irish Proverb

“Can this wait till AFTER baseball season?” I ask the surgeon.

“Uhm, no,” he says, barely able to surpress the chuckle. 

Surely I’m not the first patient to ask this question?

All that to say, it’s not serious, but, I’ll be away from the keyboard and the cheap seats for a few weeks.  The good news is, morphine is included in the deal.

Carpe Diem Y’all, Michele:)

“Deliver me from writers who say the way they live doesn’t matter. I’m not sure a bad person can write a good book. If art doesn’t make us better, then what on earth is it for.” – Alice Walker

“Winter is nature’s way of saying, “Up yours.”  ~Robert Byrne 

 I, like most Native Texans, don’t have the survival skills to live north of the Red River.  Case in point:  Today.  It’s snowing. 

“Should we pick the kids up early from school?” I ask my neighbor, the Ohio transplant.

She laughs.

“Okay,” I reply, not convinced.

The phone rings.  It’s a recorded message from my son’s school.  “School will let out at the usual time, but it is okay if you want to pick your child up early.”

I give into the anxiety that makes me want to stop down, build a fire, and hunker down because white stuff is falling from the sky, I bundle up, jump in my truck and make my way to the school, where every other native is waiting in line with a nervous eye to the sky.

I collect my son and head for the store.  I stand in line with even more natives.  We each purchase the requisite survival gear:  eggs, biscuits, milk, and two fake logs.

Grocery sacks in hand, I brave the elements, dodge the traffic jam in the parking lot and jump in the truck.  I turn the key, then tune into the local radio station. 

“Please do not call 9-1-1 to tell us it’s snowing,” says a representive of the sheriff’s department, “We know,” he concludes, “Our phone lines are jammed and we need to free them up for you know, emergencies.”

Like I said, no survival skills.

Carpe Diem Y’all, Michele

“A freelance writer is one who is paid per word, per page or perhaps.” – Robert Benchley

“I was once asked why I don’t participate in anti-war demonstrations. I said that I will never do that, but as soon as you have a pro-peace rally, I’ll be there.”  Mother Teresa

The really big fat stinky elephant in the middle of the room 

Is blocking my view. 

What did I chant when I was a child?

“Can’t go under it. 

Can’t go over it. 

Can’t go through it.”

What did I learn as an adult? 

Guess I need to eat it. 

“How do you eat an elephant?”

“One bite at a time.” 

My elephant has a name:  SonInIraq.

No matter what I do,

Where I go,

How fast I peddle,

SonInIraq is still there. 

And will be there for the next year.

In the meantime:

I work, I pray, I go about my day. 

I write letters

And email

And shop for items

To brighten his day.

My military family grows.

I write and email and shop for items for

Two young men I do not know.

They serve with SonInIraq.

Their mothers do the same.

I don’t watch the news (good advise received from a mom who’s been here, done this). 

I join with families in our Family Readiness Group and “Walk to Iraq and Back”

With phone in hand.  Always. 

Sometimes I dance to Iraq and back. 

It counts.

Moving is good.

I note the time, then add nine hours. 

That’s what time it is for SonInIraq.