In my family, I was an exuberant little girl enthusiastic for life and not here to be held back, my overworked mom often took comfort that her mother watched over me. Although I never met my Grandma Elizabeth I often felt connected to her guiding presence. Stories of guardian angels watching over and protecting us were told in Sunday school and frankly, it was easier to ask these non-threatening beings for help, rather than the bearded man in the sky. (more…)
It’s Saturday night, I put my nightgown with the little lavender flowers and my Pooh bear inside, close the lid and fasten the brass latch. My heart feels like it’s going to run away without me.
I grab the plastic handle on my royal blue suitcase and tiptoe to the front door. I slowly turn the knob. The lock releases and tries to tattle on me. No one comes.
I pull the wooden door across the lush green carpet and squeeze behind it to push open the screen door. I back outside without a breath or sound, and close both doors behind me. That was easy.
A “no,” simply “because I said so” won’t stop me. I’ll walk! (more…)
At the Arise Music Festival, my friend, Cheryl, asked if I’d be interested in doing a Vision Quest. My soul emphatically responded, “YES!” I was simultaneously excited and intimidated which always means something powerful will take place.
Native American culture fascinates me; I love the deep connection and appreciation of Mother Earth and the animal kingdom. I’ve had the honor of participating in a couple of sweat lodges and a Vision Quest is something I’ve always wanted to experience, but never actively pursued. My husband, Greg, decided he wanted to do it too. However, the original selected dates didn’t work for us, so we released it. When the dates shifted it easily fit into our schedule. (more…)
I live at 9,660 feet in Colorado and received multiple 12”+ snowstorms in the past three weeks. I do my best to remain positive, because snow in May keeps the wildfires away. But it does take its toll on everyone after awhile.
After a wonderfully relaxing massage, I shoveled wet, heavy snow from the driveway. It was my attempt to please my husband and protect, Davin, my son from a former marriage.
As I shoveled, I thought about how the snow blower ran out of gas the morning before, (more…)
Every month a new magazine wrapped in its secretive brown paper arrived. It would be carefully stashed under the couch, but within the reach of a curious little girl. “Playboy” was filled with pictures of thin women with large breasts in various awkward positions. Somewhat horrified and confused, I believed one day, I would look like the women that my dad admired.
To prepare, I stuffed tennis balls into my shirt and admired my boobs from different angles in the mirror. However, God reversed my curves. According to my aunt, my bubble butt came in when I was 18-months old, before my first molar. Being a white girl in Kansas, I did not appreciate my biggest asset. I knew one day my breasts would overshadow my derrière, but sadly that day never arrived. (more…)
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