Songs Of Peace

If at first you don't succeed, try and try again. This laptop is weird. it feels weird. Is it because I haven't used a desktop PC or large laptop for so many years? Or is it my clumsy, arthritic hands? My Essential Tremors have definitely gotten worse in the years that have passed. One bump and this laptop double clicks everything. Its a lot fancier than anything else I have used. The screen is also touch activated   I just breathe on this thing and something pops up on the screen. Almost always misspelled and full of extra lettersssss.   I know if I want or feel the need to blog again, my poor frozen thumbs won't be a able to handle it. I actually developed bursitis in my right elbow. My physical therapist spotted the cause immediately. "Do you text lot?"  Well, yeah. Who doesnt? The only friends who chose to speak on the phone instead of texting are Skinny and Dru. Its hard to believe there was a time we all had flip phones and it took too long to have long

I was staring at an empty page. WTF? I text the only person I knew would understand why I was incredulous when my whole page went blank. He is the only friend who ever asked me when I was going to start writing, again? I was taken aback from this question. He was the only person to have asked since I last blogged. I blamed it was because I moved on with writing, when I moved on from where I was writing from. There's a lot of truth in that. I never got my blog groove back when I left Pennsylvania. I blamed the weird set-up we had our desktop on. My old desk was sold. We took over a huge executive style desk my mother-in-law gave us. I appreciated it's size and aesthetic. It is real wood. It has huge drawers. It has all the proper openings and pull outs for a keyboard and large screen computer. It only fits in one spot of our living arrangements. For some impossible reason, the vibe is off. We have been here over seven years. I hate sitting at that desk. I longed for my wr

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So,another year has gone by without a new blog. I write. I write constantly. Notes to myself, scribbled phrases or thoughts on the back of envelopes or business cards. I have a lot of business cards. A whole box. They are what is left of what is rapidly becoming my past life. I never thought in a million years my life would take such an amazing turn since my last blog. I think it is why I haven't written. I'm still afraid the bubble will burst and I will wake up and still be stuck in 2011. The one thing I am proud of? That as much as I blog and blab online, I still retained my deepest thoughts to myself. I managed to pull off a long time hidden part of my life. I honestly thought it would stay that way. Stuck in some sort of limbo that started a year after Prick began stalking me. I had actually met someone who went on to become one of my best friends. Because of the nature we met, I kept it a well hidden part from everyone,including myself. I brushed it off to being some

Ho! Ho! Ho! Watch Santa Claus go!

I have to admit. I write a lot of crap. But, for my private followers I either selectively email the results and the rest of you end up reading it here. I know I could choose to have a more public following. Yet, somehow, even four years later, I feel someones personal boundaries and safety take precedence over any crap I write. That includes my rambling answers or blopping in someone Else's blog. It has been a strange few weeks since I last really wrote anything. Losing Jan has left me completely numb and in shock. Of course, I knew she was dying. She and my uncle Steve were very open about it. They were clear that I was expected to stay and keep the horses along with Steve. I think the true reality of her being gone hit me when on Tuesday my cell phone rang at work. I knew from the voice on the other end that there was a sense of confusion and panic. It was my uncle at the feed store. He didn't know if we get orchard grass or timothy hay? For a moment, I panicked. I didn

Still one of my favorite videos, of all time. When she falls and breaks in to shards that turn to birds in flight~that is the vision I am holding on to. Rough couple weeks but I know that at least, I am not frozen where I was four years ago. Love is a bird, she needs to fly Let all the hurt inside of you die You're frozen When your heart's not open

It never gets old in the giggle department

This is actually a very old blog from my original TV.com days. I thought until recently it was bought out by CNet until a fellow editor told me I had neglected the other site so long that it was bought out by CBS. Sheesh. Where does time go? So, a lot has happened since the last blog. I wrote a lot but crying too much to hit the post button. My aunt Jan, finally passsed away. She was at home with my uncle Steve holding her hand. In this past week I lost both of my pet bunnies. Inki to old age and Grissom from a broken heart. I kinda know how he feels. I will never use the expression, "dumb bunny" ever again. I have purposely stayed at the farm and in isolation since Jan's death. Now, more than ever, thiis old blog sums up what Jan meant to me. BTW~ the "ex" in this blog is Shoe Man. He just texted me, asking if I was at the barn,yet? On my way... Time to rerun another blog. It is one of my favorite Christmas memories and I hope it helps to r

  Anyone who knows me long enough, knows there are two things Evanesco hates more than anything. Liars and the shorter days. Oh, and holidays, which are always referred to as hellidays. If you knew my family or my childhood you would definitely get that.  As hard as I tried to not get in that helliday funk, I did. I really tried on Thanksgiving. I was with friends I love. I had a bonding with the friend who hosted it. I walked away that night knowing that once again, I seem to be the only person in the world who thinks that withholding information, is a lie. From my own personal experience, it's the worst of them all.  What I didn't expect was to come home to an empty house and the only person who contacted me was an ex who wanted to tell me he was thankful I was always honest with him. Good fer you,buddy. I came home to am empty house on a helliday but I am honest. Good fer me.  Is it me, or do I sense I am not getting the truth out of life?

Sometimes God, brings you an answer, in the most simple way. I can't say it enough, how grateful I am that I read this book. I was feeling so out of sorts with what has been happening. I can't say that this book is everyone's answer, but it definitely hit home,for me. Now, go hug a dog or a special someone and remember everything in our life,good or bad, has a purpose. I understood it now, why I had lived so many times. I had to learn a lot of important skills and lessons, so that when the time came I could rescue Ethan, not from the pond but from the sinking despair of his own life.

Video from last blog for my emailers.

I have never stopped. Writing,that is. I just can't seem to finish a blog for the life of me. I am not sure what that is about. I literally find myself shutting down before I can hit the post button. I should note that I am writing this as an introduction,only after I finished this past blog. My aunt Jan, is rapidly getting sicker by the day. So often, after I leave from visiting with her I want to run back and tell her everything that someone should know what to say when you know they are dying. But, each time I go in to her room and sit for awhile, we make small talk. Usually, about horses and dogs. I try and bring her things that she can still eat. That has been narrowed down to mostly liquids and puddings. I noticed the box of fudge I brought back from my weekend in Rehoboth Beach, was empty on my uncle's bed. It broke my heart because the one thing Jannie loves most in this world is chocolate. If she can't get fudge down, I know it has gotten far worse than I have want

It's about letting God's light shine through us. It's about a sparkle in people that money can't buy. It's an invisible energy with visible effects. To let go, to just love, is not to fade into the wallpaper. Quite the contrary, it's when we truly become bright. We're letting our own light shine.” ~Marianne Williamson My dear friend Marie sent this my way. It was perfect timing. There is one thing about owning a dog. It forces you to walk through your everyday world and stop to sniff the *insert~ roses, mailboxes, bushes, dead squirrel...* You get the picture. Not much to say since my last blog. I write a lot but it seems only I can understand what I write. A friend had told me about a month ago that a shift was coming. He was right. As always it seems to scare the hell out of me when it is happening. It was one mess up after another. I felt the moment I left the courtroom after Prick's sentencing my heart was permanently broken. Between Jan being sick a

Oops. Bad blogger. I hit the send button before I finished the last blog. Songs Of Peace: Exhale and Inhale

It's never a good thing when the phone rings in the middle of the night. Since I receive crappy cell phone signals from inside my house, I have clung to keeping my land line. It was once used as my business line but with the recession, my equissage business has once again faded away. I have my few regulars who schedule a standing monthly appointment. Almost all of them have my cell number. The only time my land line rings anymore is if is my family. Since I am speaking to so few members of the family, it was even more of a shock when the phone rang at 3:30 am. "Can you meet me at Brandywine Hospital?" It was my uncle who was posing the question. I told him I would be right there. My aunt had been diagnosed with cancer in early July. She waited until as long as she could, to tell me. Both my aunt Jan and uncle Steve are stoic people. She told me so matter-of-fact that at first I thought I misunderstood her. When I asked her where her cancer was she finally admitted to me

"Where you been?" I have recently have become aware that I been asked that question a lot. My answer is always the same. "Busy." It's not a lie. I have been busy since my last posting. Busy keeping myself from descending in to that abyss of depression or worst yet~fear. I have only a couple more weeks until Prick's sentencing for stalking. That is such a weird word to write. Stalking, to me, should mean something that farm kids do. Like, deer spotting, corn husking, grass stalking. *sigh* The entire Northeast is trapped in what seems like Hell. Heatwave, after heatwave. It makes the gnats swarm in to clouds. Even if I try and ride before daybreak, Veritas gets eaten alive by bugs. For being such a fat horse he has very thin skin. After trying to ride one especially muggy morning, he finally succeeded in cow-kicking (farm word) bugs off his belly and kicking my foot hard enough to bruise through my paddock boots in the stirrup. I declared a peace treaty with

I didn't expect to feel what I was feeling. It was just the shock of seeing it one way for so long and then no more. I went out later than usual to the barn to check Romeo and Sydney. We have been having hot and humid weather early in the season. What makes it tricky for horse owners is to keep their horses from blowing up on the too-rich grass and ending up with colic or laminitis. Since the flies and gnats are so bad we bring them in during the day. Romeo is more than happy to stand all day in front of the huge livestock fan we keep over his stall. He reminds me of a dog with his head out the window, catching a breeze. As I filled their buckets from the hose I glanced up at the many barn swallows nests we have in our tiny barn. I had counted up to fourteen when I took notice of the pasture outside the back entrance to the barn. It was smooth. My uncle had finally found and fixed the leaking pipe that leads from the creek in to our pond in the center of the pasture. It is almost t

It has been one of those weeks. You know the kind. Everything seems off kilter and I just went a little crazy. I finally had to talk to my friend Dr. Joe who suggested I up the meds. I was sobbing by the time we met last Friday. It's not like I didn't know this was coming. Prick's release date is next week. The detective from my township and probation, waited as close to the end of his release for the probation violation, to file the criminal charges for stalking and harassment. They did this purposely to add on more possible jail time than take a chance of time already served. This will be a felony charge and if we proceed, it is mandatory I come to court and take the stand. The detective called me early Wednesday morning. I was already up from an all-night crying fest, when he called asking me if it was too early? That was when I cried silently and unable to speak. When I finally composed myself, I realized that my reaction was my brain screaming,"it is always too ea

So many times I hit the post button for a blog and then regret it. I hate being angry but I also remember for two years I felt numb. As much as I try and tell myself being numb was better, deep down, I know it is not. For my private emailers I give out a shout. I was blessedly reminded not to take anything I have worked for the past three years for granted. Thank you, to stupid Oprah Winfrey, for making me stay home sick three years ago and watching her show. She had Gavin de Becker on and he was talking about his book "The Gift of Fear" All of my life I knew I have had that sixth sense. My mom shares this. She will be sober 25 years this Wednesday. She once told me she started drinking because she knew too much of what she was thinking, was real. We all numb ourselves from truth. It sucks. But I know my gut is right and more often than not I prove too late it was. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJSYzBqA9RA I can't get it out of my head. Crap. Take me down, 6 underground