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Just shooting the poop with Lori |
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He travels the world on the backs of others Insignificant in his stature and size His journey carries no mission Randomly roaming at the will of his host Sated enough to never question his trek Life is an open adventure without worry If the excitement of his dusty trail dulls Another bus awaits to grant passage With a furry friend to carry him home Ah the wonderful life of a flea |
| As the New Year dawns, I will toss my wishes for greatness out into the cosmos. And for the next several days,you will now find me waiting by my mailbox for Amazon to deliver the ONE MILLION DOLLARS that I wished for. I'm telling you they have everything! HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! |
| Merry Christmas and Happy New year. Sending peace and love to all my friends at WDC. May your spirits be bright and your hearts be golden. Raise your glasses high to toast the beauty of life. Welcome the baby Jesus into your heart. I wish the best and boldest to all of you. May your words flow like Shakespeare, thoughts flow like fountains, ideals peak like mountains, characters live the three dimensional lives that we seek, and all of your stories inspire. |
| Still bogged down here with the cold and snow. We received a whopping 9.2 inches of snow. The streets are finally plowed and we can get out but just walking to the car from the house is an adventure. Luckily, I have a little padding on the backside for landing in the snowdrifts and I am still spry enough to pull myself out of said snowdrift. Winter is an experience in ninja-like skill and jousting ability. I find myself wishing for video of my slide down the ramp. I'm sure that i looked quite comical. Having said that, a snowball fight ensued after that fall and it was very titillating. Living in the moment and enjoying the white fluffy ground-cover. |
| Knee deep in white stuff here in St. Louis. Getting my Christmas "feels" on. Snow is always so romantic when visited from inside a warm and cozy place. It brings the inner child out of your soul. Who doesn't want to throw a snowball at the passersby? Or build the perfect snowman? At least until the bones begin to ache from the coldness. There is always something thrilling to be found in the snow.It is as if snow has the capacity to open hearts that have long been walled off. People are a little less grumpy when they allow the snow to captivate their hearts, put away the everyday cares, and wallow in the beauty and serenity of the scene. As a child there was nothing more fun than waking up early, wrapping myself in a blanket parked in front of the tv or radio, and waiting for them to announce the school closings. Mom always had the hot chocolate ready and cheers could be heard throughout the neighborhood if we were called. It is one of my favorite memories. Today the joy is lessened by the numerous robo calls from schools. And then there are the parents that fight on social media, and I mean fight, on whether it was good to call off school. The old argument of "in my day they never called off school and I had to walk 20 miles in a blizzard" versus the "please save my child from having a snowflake touch their nose" is embarrassing for both sides. Live in the moment people and enjoy the grace of the blanketed earth. Enjoy the gentle pause in time to rekindle and rejuvenate. Reconnect with loved ones while strolling through the snow. Work, school, bills, shopping, and stress will still be there tomorrow. Accept this sweet gift of time. |
| I am getting to the point of having to clear out my portfolio, reaching my limit. No one told me what a painful process this would be. It is akin to choosing one of my children for slaughter or tying my dog to the railroad tracks. I have slimmed the pot before but have the desire to strip it bare by New Years. You know, that whole newness is freeing thing. I should probably treat my port as one of my tales of horror with skeletons in my closet and just broom them away.They will be on my computer but deleting from WDC pulls at the heartstrings. There are memories made with each story written, maybe the prompt or just the idea popping into my head. With an empty port, I fear becoming faceless. My persona is wrapped in the weirdness of my writing. It speaks of who I am. Not that there won't be new stories but I am not the same person I was two years ago. The progression of my growth, as a writer, is measured within my port. So maybe it is better, just to whittle away the edges once again. Or maybe, the day will come that I wake up with the courage to start new and fresh. Decisions, decisions! |
| Hello folks, i wanted to pass along some vital tributes and heartfelt bits of gratitude for all the members of WDC. Over the years I have built some incredible friendships. There may be distance and computer monitors between us, but the encouragement and warm welcomes I have received since day one have been amazing. Here at WDC, I get to do two things that thrill me. First, I get to read the heart-pounding tales and the inspirational poetry of incredible writers. It is like reaching deep into a box of Cracker Jacks and finding a prize that you didn't know you were searching for. Imagine being allowed to explore the psyche of great and imaginative artists. With their words written on the page, they open the door to invite us to the cozy seat by the fire. And while sitting fireside, the glowing embers mesmerize and entice. Secondly, I get to unleash the thoughts swirling in my head, I can bring a Kewpie Doll to life or turn the mirror to reflect the ugliness of life. I can take a snowy walk with Frosty or hide from the furry creatures in my closet. I am given the freedom explore the dark side of my cognition or display the goodness of people. I can paint a portrait of stars twinkling in the night sky or depict the fear of mankind. At my typewriter, the feelings pour out with cause and concern for the human race. My weird sense of humor struts freely. Thank you WDC for letting me be me. I must mention the folks over at SCREAMS!! They are incredible. The reviews and encouragement, have made me feel like I'm sipping a drink at the bar with old friends. Whether cheers or jeers, they welcome me with open arms. I have grown as a writer because of them. They push you to do better and tell you that you can accomplish it. Angus, my hat is off to you and i'm toasting you as you read this. . |
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