Note: From the last post, you may have gathered that Bad Ass Grandma needed a break from the holiday hoopla. As a result, she has packed her bag and is beginning her travels. After receiving her letters, I gather her first stop is the art museum.
She’s much too serious and no fun at all
and the man? Well, besides being skinny and tall,
he carries a weapon perhaps out of fear
I confess –
there’s no way in hell that I’d want to stay here.
via Confess
There is no proclivity for cleaning the house
at least not for bad ass grandma
she’d rather spend time making a mess
it’s something she fervently plans on.
via Proclivity
He was mild in his manner
and sound in his ways?
Perhaps, but
‘Twas his creative spirit
that was worthy of praise
from my “Ben” series
via Mild
A meager end of one’s desires
Helpless, falls within the fires
Softly heard the silent pleas
For targets reached with greater ease.
Bemoan the loss of relinquished goals
That lay defeated upon the coals
As sparks take flight and seconds clash
They cruelly wither and turn to ash.
Rising yet above the flame
Release of who or what to blame
To plant again a seed accrued
From hopes of life and dreams renewed.
-CDW
via Meager
Page 150 in Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist, one of my favorite books.
daily post prompt: Legend
Bada Assa Glam-ma
didn’t strive for eli-gance.
Why bother with the hoo-pla
when she came by it per chance?
photoshopped by CDW
via Elegance
A sunny spring day and all the kids were across the street playing. I decided to take Buffy outside with me without a leash, something I never did – not even as a ten-year-old.
We went across the street to the Mandy’s to play with the other neighborhood kids. Buffy was so happy to be the center of attention. But she didn’t know the limits like we did.
I saw her run towards the street. I saw a car going to fast coming down the street. I yelled for her to come back but she didn’t. She ran in front of a parked car. The speeding Mr. Jolly didn’t have the chance to see her.
I heard the thudding sound under the car. I heard the screech of the tires. I heard the screaming inside my head and the bursting of my heart.
Me, the one who treated even my stuffed animals with care and tenderness. And I would have to live with this new feeling of intense guilt.
I know. Not such a “jolly” memory for today’s prompt. Nevertheless, a true story that changed my life. Life is full of lessons tethered to both good and bad memories. Over the years, I have loved many dogs and I do my very best to keep them out of harm’s way.
via Jolly
I will gorge myself with feathers
to be light upon my feet
as I traipse across the foothills
shaking every paw I meet
I will stroke the furs with touches
soft and kind will be my voice
as I offer safety, comfort
and a reason to rejoice
But one specific fellow waits
to be uncaged, set free
my precious friend, I’ll be there soon
both rescued, you and me.
For my sweet Cole – a mini-Aussie current with his vaccines – who was sent to quarantine for nipping the Fed-Ex man on our property.
via Gorge
Back then, I waited on pins and needles. Not “tenterhooks”.
I’d never heard of such a word.
When I was a youngster, the big stress of Christmas was waiting.
Waiting to put up the tree.
Waiting to to see the traditional lighted candy canes line the neighborhood streets.
Waiting on Christmas Eve to spot Santa in the sky as my sister pointed.
Waiting to get home from Christmas Eve services to open presents.
Back then, the magic simply happened.
Beginning around 3 or 4 decades ago, it was I who became the magician, the puppeteer, the puller of strings to recreate a tradition.
Today, the magic for me is seeing the joy, the excitement and the sparkle of light in my grandchildren’s eyes as they witness the marvel of Christmas as it “simply” happens.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the inspirational news article written in 1897, please read, Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus
photo credit
via Tenterhooks
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 