Write with TLC

  Here we are again... At the end of another year! I had such big plans for 2020! Yeah.... Sighs! I really want to write some empowering, inspiring, hopeful words right now, but they're not coming. They will come again but not today. I have never been one to think the clock ticking over to a new year is anything more than arbitrary. It changes nothing other than the number we have to write on dated material and resetting the tax year... It doesn't make us more whatever it is we want to be. It doesn't erase whatever bad we want to ignore. It doesn't change our habits or goals or daily lives. There is some comfort in that as well as some discomfort in it. It would be nice if that tick would actually reset things and make them better. If it would push us into a new phase or place or purpose, but it doesn't. I hear many people saying things like "I can't wait for this year to be over." and I've even caught myself saying it. Then I wonder why. I know th

I recently read A Collection of Poems by Robert Frost . It's a beautiful book and one I'd been salivating over for a while, ever since I saw it in Costco several months ago. It is filled with poems that speak to my heart, my imagination, my core. I was thumbing through one day while reading - yeah, I was looking ahead - and came across Nothing Gold Can Stay , and the first thought that popped in my head was "Stay gold, Ponyboy." I stopped in my tracks as a shiver went up my spine and a smile slid across my face. I remembered in that moment the first time I read The Outsiders   by S. E. Hinton . The first time I read Nothing Gold Can Stay in the book, The Outsiders , the first time I heard the poem aloud in the movie , the first time I read the letter at the end of the book, the first time I heard the letter at the end of the movie... Robert Frost and The Outsiders are forever linked in my memory because of this poem. S. E. Hinton used Nothing Gold Can Stay to

Sometimes people are surprised to learn that I fit the description of a hillbilly, a person from a backwoods area (Mirriam-Webster Dictionary) because I'm not what people  often   expect a hillbilly to be. But I am. I grew up on a farm in a "holler" in a small town in Eastern Kentucky.  Both my parents grew up in the same general area where I grew up. They also both grew up on farms. My mom's parents lived on "the ridge" above our house on the other side of the woods. My dad's mom lived "over town" but back  yet  another holler, strictly speaking.  You don't get much more hillbilly than that. Hillbillies are individuals just like people within every group that exists. Hillbilly families are not all alike.  Hillbillies who move away take parts of the culture with them, but we also tend to adapt to new environments and create a whole new culture - a mishmash of our hillbilly upbringing, our other life experiences, and where we're living a

Earlier this week, Sam Falco blogged about exchanging letters when he was younger in his post, Letters , and it struck a cord with me. I've been thinking about it ever since because I remember having a whole network of friends and family that I exchanged letters with for years just like Sam did. Over time, those letters dwindled to almost zero. I occasionally have the urge to start writing letters again. I'll buy some nice stationery. I'll write a few letters. I'll put the stationery in a drawer and forget about it. Eventually, I'll feel the desire to write another letter. More often than not, I'll buy more stationery, but sometimes, like today, I'll open the drawer and use a sheet of the stationery I'd forgotten all about. Today, as I wrote a short letter to Sam, I thought about how much I enjoy the feel of the pen across the paper, the words taking form into sentences to express an emotion, share a thought, or remember a shared experience. I thou

Together Alone We sit so far away Yet so close in heart Every thought holds you near Every emotion gives me hope Every teardrop mends the tears I listen for your words As we stare into the sky Looking for ways to feel We aren’t so far apart I see you on the street Step aside – six feet Keep you safe Keep me safe So that one of these days All this time alone Will lead to us being together We’ve gotten through worse We’ve survived arguments and hurtful words We’ve gone our separate ways for far worse reasons Yet now as we contemplate when we’ll next see each other A virtual hug A virtual kiss A virtual cup of tea Is all we can give As we navigate this reality So that someday, some time in the future Hopefully sooner rather than later We can cross the street to stand Hand to hand Smile to smile Hug Kiss Drink a cup of tea Laugh about that time The one time when the world Forced us to be isolated When we had to find ways to be Together al

As I watch reaction to the Corona COVID-19 virus, I'm struck by the extremes. I see every reaction from panic to those who are mocking anyone who takes it seriously. I have one friend who is a health professional who is mocking people for taking the threat seriously. Sighs! I suppose I fall someplace in the middle. I don't feel panicked. I also won't be mocking anyone for taking the threat seriously, even if they take it a bit more seriously than I do. Perhaps they have a good reason. For me, I'm choosing to take precautions, perhaps a few more than usual, but I'm not drastically changing my life. Given my whole food plant-based diet that focuses on anti-inflammatory and anti-oxidant foods and my overall good health, if I get it at all I'm likely to be one of those people who get it so mildly that my risk of spreading it would be higher than my risk of getting seriously ill. So, yes, I'm being a bit more cognizant because my immediate circle of loved o

I'm not one to think the changing of the year changes much... It's just another day, but I have to admit 2019 was a tough year. Friends, family, and loved ones have faced challenges I could do nothing about. I've faced my own challenges which pale in comparison to what people I love dearly have faced with courage and aplomb. I've had to face my own limitations in ways I never anticipated, but there they were shining in my face refusing to be denied. There is only so much I can do, and sometimes even that just isn't enough. But that doesn't mean I'm not enough. As I look toward 2020, I can't help but think that next year has to be better, yet the realistic side of me knows many of the challenges are still in the middle, no where near the resolution, and in some cases the only, or at least likely, resolution isn't desirable anyway. Maybe, just maybe, I'll handle them better than I did in 2019. So, this isn't going to be a romanticized r