“There is a deep want in me for giving and an immense guilt I feel when I must force myself to stop. I’m always stuck trying to find a balance between those who could care less and those who just need to be cherished regardless if they give back to me. I never want to give something genuine and expect anything in return. To me it ceases to be a gift. But the pragmatic side of me bows my head in disappointment sometimes in the realization I must not matter to them. Can you sustain an open heart and giving spirit like altruism? Or does everything rely on a system of exchange? It really has been a life long dilemma”. ♡
Always a struggle…the one thing I have remembered from my Father…don’t do anything expecting something in return….if you give, give from your goodness and your heart…but never expect something back….
and sometime’s it’s hard not too…I guess it’s just part of being human and growing….always growing.

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Winter…

It´s in the 40´s and raining where I live. We need the rain, so I can’t complain too much…after several years of a severe drought, every little drop of rain is welcomed…and with Spring right around the corner, wildflowers blooming thru the countryside and summer picnics, swimming at the favorite watering hold, we need the rain…

But it can get sort of depressing…..the sun’s staying low in the sky..or covered up by the gray clouds that have decided to rule the day, or days…at least until Saturday, where they’ll move on and make the sun, King again.

Thinking of spring….makes me think of spring break…I laugh out loud here…because I worked for a nearby school district and every fall when everyone went back to school, staff back to work, the local teachers credit union would pass our calendars to all the staff and the staff would diligently and without fail open up their calendars and mark out the years holidays, teacher work days and vacation time… it never failed….we looked to holidays away from the kids on the first day of the kids return to school. Okay, I’m sure parents will find that insulting, but it’s not as bad parents, “can’t wait for the kids to go back to school and looking forward to it.
So we’re all even.

But aside from looking forward to spring for the obvious reasons…green grass, flowers, it’s also nice to get a break from winter…though where I live there isn’t much of a winter…maybe we get a whole week and a half of freezing weather throughout the winter season…and we even have days where, we trade in the pants, sweaters and hats for at least short pants and tees…and people sit outside and start working on tans…picnics and outings.

This year, I’ve gotten it my head that I want a garden…a vegetable garden. it’s been a couple of years since I’ve had one…it’s hard to have a garden here…we have too much shade, so the tomatoes and certainly the squash don’t give abundant fruit…but, we try. We acquired a tiller this year, to make it easier to work the dirt over…lets see if we are courageous enough to run the thing…it’s pretty scary.

I’m lucky, blessed enough to live where there are lots of parks…just across the street there is a small kiddy park, and north of me is another small park that included some baseball fields, further down there’s more baseball fields and soccer fields and the river…which cuts down the southern part of my little village…it’s a beautiful river named after one of the Archangels…
And than the city park, it’s a gorgeous place, dotted with giant pecan trees and oaks, and assorted other trees…the river winding gently down the park… a place for fishing and even swmimming….certainly lots of kids have enjoyed the river for long those long hot summers and for as long as the river was running over the damn, mothers gave permission to go swimming from morning to night….once the water stopped going over the damn, you were reprimanded to the nearby pool. Which was never as big or as fun…and it was used because there was no other place to cool off…well, you could cool off in the back yard with the sprinkler, but if you were pass a certain age, you wouldn’t be caught dead…unless you small siblings or little cousins visitng, maybe some of Moms friends with small kids in tow.

Spring is like fall here in this part of Texas…except for the colors…and summer is summer, hot brutal and dry…unforgiving…though this past year, we had a mild summer, a few hundred degree days, but not days and days of triple digit weather like in years past.

This year, as years go…I’ve decided to do a garden, get outside more and do some walking…I’ve gained too much weight, I need to lose it and walking is a good way, it’s easy on the joints. I need to check out a yoga class for stretching and to stay limber, though I’ve never been limber, I’ve always had tight hamstrings…I was never elastic when it came to my body…so yoga and the popular Tai Chi….I know several of my retired friends who just love this..and they are always talking about how great it makes them feel, so I need to check these out…easily available at the recreation center which is just a few hundred yards from the aforementioned river..named after an Archangel.

A bike, I used to ride a bike…I’d ride to the little town south of me…it was a 10 mile ride there, I’d go visit my mother, spend a few hours with her and head back another 10 miles, that was before the traffic increased and the crazy drivers and mass murders increased…Plus, I had a flat tire once and there was no such thing as a cell phone, so some compassionate person, took piety on me and gave me a ride home…if it had been a serial murder, I wouldn’t be writing this today. HA!!!
So, I’ve been thinking about a bike…something easy…nothing fancy….I guess, I finally outgrew the notion that I’d love to be the first woman to ride and win the tour de france…And I only watched while Lance was racing, I dont’ much care that he took endurance drugs to win…that’s between him and the Lord….for cheating…but I still think he was and is one of the best bike riders in the world…People cheat at all kinds of things…no one makes a big stink about it…until they get caught…and we’ve better things to worry about than Lance Armstrong.

A couple of summers ago, as I’m walking around our charming little town square, I spotted this stylish woman with gray hair, trim body riding her cute little pastel colored bike with a pretty pink basket tied to the front handle bars and I thought, I want one of those! Now, I’m always getting this great ideas, of things I want, things I want to do…like the Ukulele…I haven’t taken it out the nice case I bought for it in a quite a while…I look at the app on my iPad everyday and think I need to practice, but have I done so, NO…and I feel guilty…I should, I will…mañana!
So, I think the same about the bike…is it worth spending a couple of hundred dollars on something I’ll use a few times, and than it will sit and get rusty…like I’m getting rusty…Now, like most things, in this late years of my life, I think, again…if I had someone to ride with, that would get me out there…just like walking, if I had someone to walk with, I’d certainly have my oversized butt on those walking trails, or walking around the cute little city square which has won awards for it’s charm and attractiveness.
I used to be pretty independent…going to the movies, concerts and whatever alone…no one wants to go..or the one person who was suppose to accompany me to such things, just had no passion or desire to sit thru a couple of hours of the Nutcrackers Mother Ginger prancing around…No sir, real men don’t do that…he fell asleep one year and said that was so relaxing…so we never invited him again…
But now that I’ve gotten older I feel the desire to share some of those moments with other people…well, people I like, not just anyone….and so far, no one’s taken me on my invitations or hints…I think I’m pretty clear when I complain, ” it would be better if I could do it with someone”….but, No…it just hasn’t been the right bait to catch the fish who will be my partner in crime..well the crime of putting our aging bodies thru the grueling trails of hiking and biking…..

I guess, the bike will have to wait and my feet are probably better….chances are that I’d fall off a bike break an arm, or worse a leg and I’d be out on some godforsaken trail, alone before anyone discovered me….the fire-ants and vultures would find me before a human would….But…I’d look as pretty as that fashionable gray headed lady…abate with some extra weight on the hips and skinny legs…

So on this cold rainy weary day…I’ll head to the kitchen to start dinner and looking out my little kitchen window, I’ll dream about the spring and summer weather that just lies a few months away…and all the color that come bursting thru….and of course bikes…the bikes ridden by the local kids from the university near by, the folks out for their morning or evening exercise and thank whatever God that may exisit, that so far…I haven’t given up on the dream of a few things in my old age…even if I have to do them alone….sometimes, alone isn’t so bad.

Wherever you are…I hope the weather is tame…and if it isn’t be warm…read a book, knit a sock..or watch a movie…but dream of the beautiful days ahead…dreams, they are one of the few things we can do alone and relish and enjoy and even make them come true…sometimes, at least we can…in my case…that’s not possible, but it’s fun to think of the possibilities…..

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Always

“Always give priority to the ones that make you a priority in their lives. If they make time for you and do there best to be there for you, always try to reciprocate it. Life can get busy with work, school, or other priorities and sometimes we lose track of what really matters to us. We can lose sight of the bigger picture but what is life anyways if we don’t have those important people to share it with? I think one of the worst feelings is being taken for granted or taking someone special to us for granted and losing touch with them. Maybe someone crossed your mind as you were reading this. Take the time to tell them or even show them how much they mean to you and your life. Always love the ones that love you back.”

Buford the dog with his boy and the girl…

Years had passed since she’d danced on the hill…she lived with the nuns, cooking and cleaning…it paid for her room and they gave her a meal…and prayed for her soul…and
quietly she lived after years on the hill….
The day she remembered, the sun warm and shinny…the fields filled with flowers, had spread like a blanket…they’d laid on the grass her head on his heart, listening to it beat and his belly grumble…the dog had stayed with them…running and playing, rabbits to chase, sticks to bring back…he guarded them well, and payed them with licks and a fun wagging tail…

years had passed since she’d danced on the hill…she lived with the nuns, cooking and cleaning…it paid for her room and they gave her a meal…and prayed for her soul…and
quietly she lived after years on the hill….
the day she remembered, the sun warm and shinny…the fields filled with flowers, had spread like a blanket…they’d laid on the grass her head on his heart, listening to it beat and his belly grumble…the dog had stayed with them…running and playing, rabbits to chase, sticks to bring back…he guarded them well, and paid them with licks and a fun wagging tail…

The  two of them…Buford the dog, making them three…down the hill they walked, singing a song…the wind brought the scent of millions of flowers, it went to the ocean, it went to the sea…it traveled the earth and back to the three…
Sadly, today would be the end of the three…they’d frolicked and played, sang songs and they prayed…
they’d slept on the grass, and kissed while sitting on rocks like shaped like stairs…holding hands they’d shared secrets and stories…they’d loved and they’d argued, but always at night they’d laid their head on a pillow of grass, tight in each others arms they slept and they dreamed, Buford, between them keeping them safe and keeping them close…he loved their playful laughter and sing song voices…he fetched and he ran and wagged his long tail…they threw him a bone and life was so swell…today it would not end so well…

The house at the end of the hill looked lovely and sweet, window boxes filled with flowers of blue and light dew drops fell on the leafs…they walked to the door, smelling bread baking and apples growing on a tree by the swing…,the dog growled and backed back…warning them of danger and and harm…they knocked and they knocked, no one came out…he pulled on the door, and it opened up…inside it was warm, pillows on floor, a stove filled with food, a table to sit, with glasses full of drink…they sat and they ate, they laughed and they danced so happy and glad…
the darkness came quick….and sleep came and took them to dreams of hills and the dog…
of hugs and songs sung…sitting on rocks and stealing a kiss….the morning came quick and when she awoke, he was no where to be found…she looked and she called, she screamed and she cried, the dog at her side…the room was all bare…no sign of the pillows, no smell of the bread…no drink to be had…just one lone bare room and a hook on a wall where hung his
wool hat….she howled like the dog and ran like the wind, looking for him…into the forrest she ran, without looking ahead..she tumbled and fell into a deep well…the dog whined and whined and didn’t know why, they both were no more…the day grew darker and the owls did they hoot…the wolfs howled and the dog shed a tear…the people he loved, no longer there….
at long last a woman came by…she laughed with a sneer and played with her hands…her nails like a hook, she picked up the dog and threw him on air, where he landed on him…laying down, lost as a soul…alone in the fog…away from the girl he would not see…the dog cried and pawed at the boy…wake up and get up…they walked up the hill, the dog and the boy…back to the convent, with handfuls of flowers, to lay at the alter…prayers to said, songs to be sung…the girl had been lost…they wondered away…and found a new land…they encountered a girl, fair, tall with red hair…they built a new life and had little ones… Buford watched and despaired at the lost girl in the well….
Back at the hill the nuns found the girl, all wet and alone…sick as a bird, they carried her back…back to her room…they fed her and prayed, prayer after prayer…..she called out his name and Buford’s name too…..she spent her days walking the hill, cooking and cleaning…
wishing and dreaming…the boy and the dog…were now dreams…lost out at sea…she looked to the sea and cried tears of salt, her heart each day died….until she was old…the last of her days, she laid in her bed…with a ribbon of silk he given her once…the sound of the dog…greeted her walk, up the hill, white clouds and light surrounded her small frame….she looked down the hill so far down the way…she spotted him there…with a babe on his knee…she cried and she smiled…at his lucky break…he’d made it to old age, with a grandchild in arm…a ribbon she dropped and it flew to down the hill, like a song it had flown to the yard down below…the girl and the dog, now old and in disrepair…they watched the ribbon as it fell on the man…it fell on his hand…a smile and a tear ran down his face…his eyes, sparkled with green and blue flecks, up at the sky…the child asking where ribbons came from…he sat on his chair and held out the ribbon…from heaven above, the ribbon did fall, a girl it belonged too…and girl and a dog…that played on the hill…we played and we laughed, we ran like the wind…we kissed as we sat on rocks like a stair…he closed both his eyes and slowly breathed out…his soul lifted up and to be greeted up high…the girl and the dog, sat by the spring…with water so blue and quenching their thirst…they waited for him..he landed softly, his feet like a feather…..a ribbon he held..it went on her hair….they walked from the spring, flowers beneath, blue skies above…Buford the dog, the boy and the girl…running and dancing with songs in their hearts…they walked and they walked the boy and his dog and the girl her hand in his hand…..

 

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the two of them…Buford the dog, making them three…down the hill they walked, singing a song…the wind brought the scent of millions of flowers, it went to the ocean, it went to the sea…it traveled the earth and back to the three…
today would be the end of the three…they’d frolicked and played, sang songs and they prayed…
they’d slept on the grass, and kissed while sitting on rocks…holding hands they’d shared secrets and stories…they’d loved and they’d argued, but always at night they’d laid their head on a pillow of grass, tight in each others arms they slept and they dreamed, Buford, between them keeping them safe and keeping them close…he loved their playful laughter and sing song voices…he fetched and he ran and wagged his long tail…they threw him a bone and life was so swell…today it would not end so well…

the house at the end of the hill looked lovely and sweet, window boxes filled with flowers of blue and light dew drops fell on the leafs…they walked to the door, smelling bread baking and apples growing on a tree by the swing…,the dog growled and backed way , way back…warning them of danger and and harm…they knocked and they knocked, no one came out…he pulled on the door, and it opened up…inside it was warm, pillows on floor, a stove filled with food, a table to sit, with glasses full of drink…they sat and they ate, they laughed and they danced so happy and glad…
the darkness came quick….and sleep came and took them to dreams of hills and the dog…
of hugs and songs sung…sitting on rocks and stealing a kiss….the morning came quick and when she awoke, he was no where to be found…she looked and she called, she screamed and she cried, the dog at her side…the room was all bare…no sign of the pillows, no smell of the bread…no drink to be had…just one lone bare room and a hook on a wall where hung his
wool hat….she howled like the dog and ran like the wind, looking for him…into the forrest she ran, without looking ahead..she tumbled and fell into a deep well…the dog whined and whined and didn’t know why, they both were no more…the day grew darker and the owls did they hoot…the wolfs howled and the dog shed a tear…the people he loved, no longer there….
at long last a woman came by…she laughed with a sneer and played with her hands…her nails like a hook, she picked up the dog and threw him on air, where he landed on him…laying down, lost as a soul…alone in the fog…away from the girl he would not see…the dog cried and pawed at the boy…wake up and get up…they walked up the hill, the dog and the boy…back to the convent, with handfuls of flowers, to lay at the alter…prayers to said, songs to be sung…the girl had been lost…they wondered away…and found a new land…they encountered a girl, fair, tall with red hair…they built a new life and had little ones… Buford watched and despaired at the lost girl in the well….
back at the hill the nuns found the girl, all wet and alone…sick as a bird, they carried her back…back to her room…they fed her and prayed, prayer after prayer…..she called out his name and Buford’s name too…..she spent her days walking the hill, cooking and cleaning…
wishing and dreaming…the boy and the dog…were now dreams…lost out at sea…she looked to the sea and cried tears of salt, her heart each day died….until she was old…the last of her days, she laid in her bed…with a ribbon of silk he given her once…the sound of the dog…greeted her walk, up the hill, white clouds and light surrounded her frame….she looked down the hill so far down the way…she spotted him there…with a babe on his knee…she cried and she smiled…at his lucky break…he’d made it to old age, with a grandchild in arm…a ribbon she dropped and it flew to down the hill, like a song it had flown to the yard down below…the girl and the dog, now old and in disrepair…they watched the ribbon as it fell on the man…it fell on his hand…a smile and a tear ran down his small face…his eyes, sparkled with green and blue flecks, up at the sky…the child asking where ribbons came from…he sat on his chair and held out the ribbon…from heaven above, the ribbon did fall, a girl it belonged too…and a girl and a dog…that played on the hill…we played and we laughed, we ran like the wind…we kissed as we sat on rocks like a stair…he closed both his eyes and slowly breathed out…his soul lifted up and to be greeted up high…the girl and the dog, sat by the spring…with water so blue and quenching their thirst…they waited for him..he landed softly, his feet like feathers….a ribbon he held..it went on her hair….they walked from the spring, flowers beneath, blue skies above…Buford the dog, the boy and the girl…running and dancing with songs in their hearts…they walked and they walked the boy and his dog and the girl her hand in his hand…..

Sent from my iPad