Busy Bee

Hiya friends. I’m up to my ears, and not sure when I’ll be back to blog. Summer is here, and I have a few projects I need to get off the ground. Be good to yourselves!

 Hugs & Kisses!

Peace… Not that Complicated.

Little Fargo glanced up through the cold, steel bars of his cage. Our eyes met; his were a sea of blue, brimming with desperation.  His fur looked softer that clouds in July, and his little paws looked as though they had been dipped in sweet chocolate. He cried out to me with a heart-rending meow, his chocolate paws poking and prodding through the narrow prison bars. My spine softened… legs buckled… and it was all I could to look at Spencer with a straight face and say “No… we can’t… please don’t ask”.

While waiting for the store clerk (we were there to get worms for Raymond), I aimlessly strolled through the pet store, with my hopeful twelve year old quick on my heels.  I delivered one perfectly reasonable explanation after another as to why we did not need another critter in the house. We were there to get worms for Raymond… in and out… that’s it!  But, in true Spencer fashion, with each explanation I threw out there, he was good and ready with his swift and crafty catcher’s mitt. And let’s face it, I’m shamefully spineless. *sigh*

Needless to say… we got the worms for Raymond… and the kitty with the chocolate paws. *sigh* I couldn’t help myself!

Cookie is finally warming up to the idea of sharing her space with an impostor, but I can assure you… she wasn’t whistling Dixie when Fargo first came lumbering into her world. She is normally such an easy going little kitty-girl… it was quite a shock to know that she has a down-right ugly and vile side to her otherwise polite and loving demeanour! The first few nights were trying, to say the least. I drifted off to sleep somewhere in the middle of the night to the tune of “hiss, growl, wail, hiss, growl, moan, hiss!!!” It was endless… I was secretly hoping she’d lose her voice, just so we could get some sleep. But alas, this morning I witnessed progress. The old-timer and the new-comer were so intrigued by the ‘red dot’ darting about the carpet that neither realized they were almost touching noses. Progress indeed.

Clyde hasn’t put up much of a fuss about the kitten, but he has been especially sucky. Unfortunately, Fargo’s fascination with “chase the bunny” has not been well received by Clyde, who much prefers the game of “ignore the kitten” by retreating to my lap, tucking his little face under my arm. No worries though; nothing time and a few more squirts of the water bottle won’t fix. Fargo is slowly figuring it out. (I can almost hear Clyde snickering under his bunny-breath each time Fargo gets it.)  lol

Raymond isn’t bothered in the slightest. Once he realized that the kitten wasn’t going to eat him, he continued on with his normal routine of exploring and tasting everything in site, including the kitty. He even curled up against Fargo’s silky (warm) fur the other day and hunkered down for a little cat-nap. Aww.

At one point (during the hissing and growling and snarling stage), I wondered if perhaps I allowed my impulse to impair my better judgement. (Imagine that… gasp!). But then, while sitting on the floor last night, I noticed that guards were slowly but surely starting to crumble, as the critters gathered and circled around me and Spencer. They climbed and pounced over our legs, chased and chewed their fuzzy mice, brushed up against us with affection, and generally found a way to tolerate one another within the same small space… and I couldn’t help but smile from the inside out.  In their own way, our babies were sorting it out.

Who needs political leaders to agonize over the many challenges of world peace (and they’re doing such a fine job, aren’t they?)… please… I think my critters should run for office. :)

Procrastination is Bliss

I should be making supper right now, but there’s nothing like a little procrastination to set the mood first, no? That’s what I thought. Instead, I’m busying myself by tossing the fuzzy toy mouse for Cookie. Hey, one must not neglect their furry critters. ;) Only trouble is, Cookie isn’t the sharpest kitty in the hood. Bless her. The moment I make the move with my hand to skilfully propel the fuzzy mouse into the air (as she waits with great anticipation), Cookie swiftly lunges and snatches the mouse from my fingers with her razor sharp claws; thereby, not only does she prevent the fuzzy mouse from making lift off, but for an added giggle, successfully manages to rip into my skin as she swipes the mouse triumphantly! (Then looks at me as if to say “do it again, Mom… do it again!) *sigh*

And this is better than cooking? Sadly, yes… yes it is.

I’ll be back. Must get cook’en!

Flirting with a Pirate… Shiver Me Timbers!

We saw Shrek III the other night at Silver City – it was  hilarious! Loved it! On our way out of the theatre,  the boys decided to get a refill on their popcorn  before leaving, and considering the price they  charge for popcorn, I agreed – marvelous plan -  have at it, kids! As Spencer and his buddy  barreled toward the counter, I trailed behind, taking in the decor of paper Mache sculptures that were dangling from the lobby’s ceiling. I looked to my left to get a closer look at the sculpture of Peter Pan, when my heart was suddenly launched into a twinkling tail-spin of school-girl flutters! There, standing only a few feet away from me and Peter, stood none other than… Jack Sparrow. Yes indeed folks, it was him, the very one. Not a paper Mache either… nuh-uh… this was the real deal… right there in the theatre lobby!

Okay, okay… maybe it wasn’t THE Jack Sparrow — but he was a damn fine replica… damn fine. I was careful not to let on that I saw him, or reveal my overwhelming intrigue. Instead, I simply meandered about the lobby, taking in the scenery… while slowly closing the space between me and the engaging pirate. ;)

I nonchalantly glanced around, fiddled with my purse, observed the random posters on the wall… but I couldn’t stop peering over my shoulder to get another look at Jack. At one point, I think I even blushed at my own silliness. Then, as I was turning to walk toward the boys, he noticed me… and smiled. Then I smiled back. Then he smiled back. A besotted silence filled the space between me and the pirate.

I broke the silence and said “Great costume”. *swoon* He smiled then and sauntered on over, filling the empty space, and melting my knee-caps with his cunning grin and rolling swagger. I was thirteen again, with sweaty palms and wobbly knees.

“It’s not a costume”, he toyed, gently brushing his fingers against the fabric of his garment. “It’s the real thing, I assure you”. He flashed me a grin; his teeth were gleaming, devastatingly white. (I’m pretty sure I swooned out loud… just a little.)

He playfully jostled a gold coin from one knuckle to the next, charm oozing from his crafty fingertips. For a moment there, I completely forgot that I was waiting for the boys. Luckily, they came lumbering over just in the nick of time, crashing through my shameful fog of infatuation. ;)

Quickly, I adjusted my giddy demeanor and greeted the boys with an anxious giggle. “Look boys”, I pointed, “it’s Jack Sparrow”. The boys were definitely intrigued, but not so much with the pirate’s incredible likeness to Jack Sparrow… more so with the shiny sword that glistened from the pirate’s hip. Jack had seen their kind before though, and he quickly diverted their attention by offering a shiny, gold coin instead. After bestowing such riches onto the boys, he looked at me and asked “Would the lady like a coin, too?” I grinned wildly; as did he… thankfully Spencer was too engrossed with his gold coin to witness his mother blatantly flirting with a pirate!

What is it about Jack Sparrow that makes woman melt in the palm of his hands? What ever it is… this guy had the part nailed. I practically floated back to the car, giggling and tittering under my breath. There I was, a thirty seven year old woman, flirting with a freak’en pirate in the lobby of a theatre! Seriously… I need to get out more. ;)

Welcome to Bloggersville

 

*Authors’ note: this blog was created while maintaining an msn space — but I am having just as much fun in the land of WordPress.*

It all started one dreamy Sunday afternoon, while taking an innocent stroll through cyberspace. With the msn Gods on my side, clicking aimlessly from one link to the next was an absolute breeze on this particular day. No stalling. No freezing. No lagging. It was as though the clouds had parted and cleared a heavenly path for my futile frolicking! Since it was such a sunny day, and time was of no concern (the laundry could wait), I decided to wander outside of my usual stomping ground, and just see where the crazy sidewalk of obliging links would lead me. And that’s when I fell upon a new and delightfully intriguing neighborhood, called MSN Spaces. Otherwise known as Bloggersville.

Upon first glance, I noticed there were no locks in this neighborhood. Each space I came upon honed its own version of a welcome matt resting on their front porch; some were colorful and dazzling, while others were simple and plain. As I continued on my way, I wondered what Goldie Locks would do in a situation like this. There were just so many spaces to choose from! Where would I begin? The first space I visited caught my interest by its gentle and loving tagline; eagerly, I clicked the link! But as I curiously peeked inside, my giddy enthusiasm fell short; I wondered how long it had been since anyone had actually lived there. It was cold and baron, like an old forgotten barn, with nothing more than a few thumbnails still tacked to the peeling walls. The second space I came upon was hardly what I expected either; although the link had an intriguing title, upon stepping inside, I was immediately disenchanted with the eerie and dark decor. As I tripped over stacks of foul lingo and unsightly images, I quickly fumbled for the back button, and high-tailed it out of there! Curses! Foiled again!! Clearly, even the dreamy Bloggersville would not be complete without its very own version of the “underground”. Determined to give it another go, I ploughed on, this time scrolling right on by those tagnames of trickery. The third space I discovered was just right; not too cluttered, not too empty, juuuuust right. Sweet heavens, finally!  Cheerfully, I removed my tattered loafers and stepped inside. The charming little space belonged to a young man named Kenny, and I was hooked from word GO. I spent the next two hours nestled in my swival chair, reading his spellbinding and heart-rending blogs, and falling in love with his spirit. 

Visits became frequent to Bloggersville after that fateful day. I found myself perched in front of my computer more often than ever before. I looked forward to unwinding from a busy day by visiting my favorite spaces, always anxious to read their latest blogs, and to be moved, inspired, or simply entertained in some marvelous and wonderful way! I even considered starting a spiffy space of my very own…

And that is when I went from being a visitor — to a brand new resident of Bloggersville!

When I first moved in, I was immediately thrilled with the neighborhood. Of all the neighbors in Bloggersville — I have to boast and say — I have stumbled upon the cream of the crop! Nowhere else in Bloggersville will you find such a fun-spirited and encouraging group of folks. Bloggers in this neck of the woods take extreme pride in their neighborhood too. Once the dust had settled from the catastrophic Tornado which tore through Bloggersville (new spaces format), there was no shortage of groaning and grumbling, as the damage was carefully accessed. Fortunately, despite the shocking upheaval that literally blind sided residences of Bloggersville, there were no fatalities… in fact, most Bloggers slept through the entire ordeal. In the light of morning, Bloggers swiftly sprung into action, repairing shingles, mending fences, replacing windows, clearing the gutters, tacking thumbnails back on the wall, and returning their welcome matt to its rightful place on the front porch, no worse for wear. Some Bloggers even turned the disaster into an opportunity to redecorate! Naturally, neighbors gathered, discussed, vented, supported, and encouraged in good humor, lending their hands to those who took an especially hard blow. Within a week, onlookers would never suspect that disaster had struck this little corner of Bloggersville. Although Bloggersville has no official plan for disaster, clearly… the collective spirit of this prized little corner is a force not to be reckoned with!

As a newbie to Bloggersville, I wasn’t sure how I would fit in. Would they like me? Would they visit me? Would they stay for tea, and listen to my heartfelt and sometimes silly stories? It was all very intimidating! But as the days and weeks passed, I found my way around the neighborhood, spending time getting to know my fellow bloggers. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve laughed some more… and most importantly, I have met some extraordinary people, and formed some forever friendships. Yay me!!

I would hope that if you are visiting for the first time, you would pull up a comfy chair and cuddle up for a bit. Peruse my heart felt and silly stories, visit my beautiful neighbors (see Friends List), and feel free to drop by when ever your little heart takes the notion to go blog-walking. You never know… you might just decide to set up shop, and stay a while.   xoxo 

Thank-you for Shopping at Walmart

What a great weekend! On Friday, we celebrated my boy’s birthday. He is officially twelve now, and I can already hear adolescence gently tapping at the door. Spencer never went through the terrible two stage… really! But oh my… I have a feeling I better be on my toes and ready for the curve balls of adolescence… he’s as strong willed as his mother! **gasp!!** (God help me). ;) The boys had a blast hanging out on Friday, and kept me awake till the wee hours of the morning. I must admit… I got a little cranky near the end. My eyes were dangling from their sockets on my fourth trip into his room to remind them that WE HAVE NEIGHBOURS!!! *sigh* Boys. The next morning, they woke me up and announced they were hungry. After wiping the sleep from eyes and shooting a stingy glare in their direction, I announced that the breakfast fairy was on her day off and directed them to the cereal and toast, with a sluggish and weary finger.  I had to get up though. *sigh* Not just to make sure the little darlings didn’t demolish my kitchen, but my folks were also coming into town and would be arriving in just a few short hours. So, I swung my weary legs out of bed with a heavy groan and headed for the coffee pot. Ah… sweet coffee pot. :)

    It was only an hour after my folks arrived that my mom explained that she had some photos she wanted to scan at Walmart (oh rapture… Walmart). We get to the Walmart parking lot and promptly start driving in circles. I ask you… just how many freak’en handicapped parking stalls do they need?! No offense… but have you ever seen all 20 parking stalls occupied at the same time… ever? *sigh* Anyhoo, we get into Walmart and discover the photo lab has only one scanner… and one very long, honk’en flipp’en line-up. *sigh* I hate shopping at Walmart. With every fiber of my being. Hate. It. Normally, wild horses couldn’t drag me in there on a Saturday. But… what are ya gonna do? Your mom wants to go to Walmart… you go to Walmart… even on a Saturday. *sigh* I have to say though, my mom is so damn cute that she makes me giggle and titter right from my toes! If you’re going to be stuck in a line up, she’s the gal you want to be stuck with!

    We found the back of the line and I quickly checked my phone for messages (purely for something to do while I’m waiting)… and then I’m reminded… no reception in Walmart. It’s like the twilight zone, I swear! (I hate Walmart!!). Anyway, there was a lady standing alone in front of us (with a bag full of pictures… yipee) and so naturally, my mother freely strikes up a hospitable conversation with this lady. Immediately, she’s made a new friend, just like that, and a spellbinding conversation ensues. Every now and then she looks up and tries pulling me into the conversation, and I desperately muster a vague interest on scanning & borders, nodding and smiling blankly. She may as well have been talking in Chinese, but I nod and smile anyway. I could see she was in her absolute glory because she’d met someone who is just as crazy over this scanning thingie as she is! Then, midway through her chit-chat she notices photo albums are on sale for 50 cents, so she points her finger and directs me to go find her some. I merrily toddle off… all too happy to free myself from the riveting conversation of photo borders and various other trinkets of fascinating photo tid-bits. *Yawwwwn* I take my time… meander about, glance over… they hadn’t moved an inch. I can see my mom’s hands flouncing about with giddy animation… she was in her glory explaining the many magical facets of the Walmart photo scanner thingie! (I don’t even know the name of that dang machine, but she could probably have it making scrambled eggs with a little effort). I quietly chucked as I picked out a handful of photo albums. When I returned, she and the nice lady were well into a deep and technical conversation and she barely knew I had even returned. lol I stood beside her, shifting my feet from left to right, played with my cell phone, straightened my buttons, glanced around at things and people, and wondered if we might possibly spend our entire family visit in the line up at Walmart. Yipeee. I continued smiling and nodding, feigning a giggle and titter here and there… but it’s when they started talking about various photo sizes and finishes that my left eye started to twitch and I thought my head might snap clean off my shoulders! *Accck!!!* By the time our photos were scanned, my mom had already helped the nice lady arrange pretty little borders on all of her scanned photos, and they were practically best friends. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she’s on my mom’s Christmas card list now. lol

    My mom is amazing. She makes me giggle all the time. The little things that she does are so flipp’en cute… she’s like a little kid in so many ways, especially when she’s with me… which naturally makes my heart smile from tip to toe. Gosh, I miss her already. *sigh* As much as I don’t like to admit this… I am such a mama’s girl. lol  ;)

Fighting Crime of the Pesky Kind

 A few weeks ago, while preparing for the usual Sunday (and dreadful) job of cleaning the bathroom, a terrifically marvellous thought scurried and landed on a vacant little shelf of my mind. Just like that… there it was… gleaming and twinkling at me. It was one of those thoughts that make a parent stand straight-up, grin, and titter wickedly beneath their breath. <hee hee> I tiptoed down the hallway, casually peered into Spencer’s room, and noticed that he was curled up in a lazy heap on his bed, watching television. Perfect. I grinned again… accidentally unleashing a faint titter as my brilliant plan unfolded seamlessly. I glanced at the cleaning supplies, back at the boy, back at the cleaning supplies… and thought… “Brilliant!” (Muah ha ha!!)

I called him over with a giddy wave of the hand, pointed to the bathroom, and announced, “You’re 12 years old now, son… time to buck-up and become a man”. I could hardly compose myself… this moment was right up there with Christmas morning, or finding that perfect pair of shoes on sale for half price!

The look on his face was worth ten pairs of new shoes! You would have thought that I had asked him to clean the bowels of the sewer, or to disassemble a time-bomb. Naturally, he argued that he didn’t know how… so being the helpful mother I am, I patted his back lovingly and assured him that I would teach him. hee hee

In dazzling charade fashion, I walked him through each step, starting with the disgusting spots on the lino that would need to be cleaned and disinfected first… and playfully suggested he take better care with his aim from here on out. (hee hee hee!!!). Once I was sure that my little pioneer had been adequately introduced to the many foul and ghastly facets, I backed out of the bathroom delicately… smiled, wished him luck… and high-tailed it out of there, skipping and giggling!

I figured I might need a buffer to drown out the occasional whining that was sure to ensue, so I quickly busied myself with untangling the gnarled-up cord of the vacuum, and fired that puppy up! I think I was actually floating as my faithful Kenmore ploughed across the carpet, sucking up the bits and pieces of god-knows-what. I deliberately took my time, making patterns in the carpet: checkers, stripes, random circles. I tried making a happy face, but the lines kept crossing over one another. *sigh*

Then, as I was merrily going about making the perfect swirl in the carpet, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye… a distinctly familiar pair of knobbly knees. I turned around, looked up, and then immediately fell into a fit of laughter! In true Spencer-fashion, he accepted his mission, and took on the challenge like a loyal trooper…

 

See why I love being a mom!!  hee hee

 

Boy = Lizard, Just Goes without Saying

 So, ever since Spencer’s cousin got a Bearded Dragon (3 years ago), he’s wanted one to call his own. I wasn’t against the idea of another critter in the house, but at that time, I felt Spencer was too young to commit to the responsibility that goes along with caring for a critter… and I have enough poop to scoop as it is… thanks. ;) He’s brought the subject up a few times over the past few years, and each time… he’s trailed away with the same long face and dragging heals… trumped again, but patiently biding his time. ;) *sigh*

Then… not long ago, I asked Spencer if he’d thought about what he’d like this year as a passing gift… and he promptly replied “A bearded dragon?” *sigh* I hummed and ha’d… after all, he is twelve now… maybe he could handle it. So, in my infinite wisdom, I thought… “I’ll put him to the test; we’ll just see how serious he is”. I laid out a few pain-staking conditions, and if he could follow through, then he could have the Beardie. Sounds fair, right? One of those conditions was that he had to share the responsibility of cleaning the bunny litter, and cat litter. (Bonus for me… talk about win-win). hee hee 

To my surprise, the boy has kept his end of the bargain… not only that, but without complaint. (Anyone who has kids will appreciate what a gift that is in itself… “without complaint”… ahhh… music to thy ears). So, as time has marched on toward the end of the school year, I have been tucking the idea (and money) away… preparing for one more critter to come into our home. I would have a house full of critters if I had the room and money, so it didn’t take me long to warm up to the idea, and begin pricing out the details like… tank, lighting, sand… stuff like that. (Which by the way… equals a small freak’en fortune).

Then, last week… after going to the cheap theatre (I think it has an official name, but that’s what I call it… it’s the best thing since sliced bread!), we strolled over to the pet store. We do this quite regular… movies, pet store… it’s our thing. While I was chatting it up with an adorable black headed cacique (that’s a bird), Spencer had quietly made his way to the reptile section. The next thing I know, Spencer is calling out and slowly walking toward me, with a Bearded Dragon sitting comfortably upon his shoulder… both looking most content.  A nice lady wearing a green smock was trailing behind him (I think they were in cahoots)… she smiled… I smiled… Spencer smiled… (I think the Beardie even smiled)… I should have known something was up. ;) I asked her if it was okay for Spencer to be walking around with the Beardie on his shoulder. She smiled again, waved her arm and said, “Oh, this is everybody’s favourite Beardie! He won’t make any fuss at all, he’s used to be handled”. Smile… grin… smile.  She continued to explain that of the three adult Beardies they had in the store, this one was the most agreeable… and that everybody simply loved this one. That’s when Spencer chimed in and said, “We should call him Raymond!” (Like the show… “Everybody Loves Raymond”). The girl beamed and chuckled… brilliant!  “Yes”, she said, “from now on, that’s what I’m going to call him… Raymond”.  I beamed and chuckled too… so impressed with his clever little spin, I slipped.. let my guard down… and stepped right into Spencer’s sneaky and brainy little plan.

Now it had a name. Caving was inevitable. ;)

 Naturally… I got swayed into holding ‘Raymond’. He was softer than I expected him to be. I petted under his chin, and he closed his eyes as if to say… “Oh ya… that’s what I’m talk’en about”. 

Naturally… I got further swayed into letting him crawl up onto my shoulder… where he promptly (as though on queue) snuggled his head under my chin, and hunkered down, snug as a bug.

By now… Spencer was playing it cool… but I could hardly ignore the smile that was stretched from one side of his face to the other. He petted Raymond’s scaly-yet-smooth back and head, and said, “This is the one I want, Mom… I want Raymond”. *smile… grin… smile*

*sigh*

So… 1 40-gallon tank, 3 bags of sand, 3 food dishes, 2 logs, 1 heat lamp, 1 ubv light, 2 light mounts, one basking rock, and one container of super-worms (gross!) later… Raymond is now sitting very pretty at this very moment… in Spencer’s room. *smile* (No doubt, tittering at his own cleverness of how he wrapped one little boy, and one soft hearted mom around his scaly-yet-smooth little finger). ;)

A Tale of Fiction

 The wind howled ruthlessly through the night, whipping its talons through the prickle hedge like a swarm of angry bees, stinging anything bold enough to stand in its path. Abby nestled deeper under the brush, pulling the soft moss up to her chin and leaned in closer to her brother, who was sound asleep. How he could sleep at a time like this was beyond her. She couldn’t close her eyes without the same, horrifying image filling the darkness of her mind; she imagined the hateful wind ripping through the branches with its cold and gnarly hands… snatching her from her sleep. It was too unthinkable to think about… and yet she couldn’t help but think about it. And the more she thought about it… the more she trembled.

      Pepper, are you awake?” Abby gently nudged him, pressing her cold toes against the back of his leg.

      The silent reply was almost as piercing as the wind. He couldn’t really be sleeping, she thought. Only grizzly bears and humans could sleep at a time like this. She nudged him again, this time pressing her icy toes against his back with more conviction. “Pepper, are you awake?”

      “No”, he huffed, exasperated. “Go to sleep, Abby”. Pepper turned onto his back, pulling his wing over his face.

      Abby leaned in closer and pressed her cheek against his shoulder; she knew he couldn’t have been sleeping. “Pepper, do you think the wind would quiet down if I sang it a song? Help me think of a song… how’s that one go…? Hush little pixie, don’t you cry…”

      Pepper turned onto his side and faced her… his eyebrows squished together like two fuzzy caterpillars, which usually forced a giggle from her tummy… but her fear swallowed her giggles. He leaned in closer and pressed his nose against hers; it was cold, so she pulled away a little to watch his fuzzy caterpillars crinkle instead. “Abigail”, he signed again, gently. “The wind can’t hear you. Sometimes the wind just needs to stretch its wings, just like we do. ‘Cept the wind makes more noise than we do… it can’t help it. Think of it like the wind has a built in whistle that dangles from its toes and no matter what he does to shake it off, it just makes more noise. All you gotta do is stay under this brush with me and go to sleep, okay?” He grinned, “Besides, think how badly the wind would feel if it knew its whistle was causing you so much grief… you don’t want the wind to feel bad, do you?”

      His eyebrows returned to their normal place on his forehead. She sighed. “No, I don’t want the wind to feel bad.” She’d never thought of it like that before. “Okay… I’ll go to sleep now”, she whispered. Abby tucked her wings in tight and leaned in close to him. He was so smart; she wondered how he got to be so smart. No matter how afraid or confused she was about something, he always knew how to make things fit together just right.

      She closed her eyes… but she didn’t go to sleep right away. She laid there for a long time, just listening to the windy-whistle, and imagined riding on the back of the wind as it stretched its wings to far off places that she had only dreamed of… and she wondered how far her own pixie-wings could take her…

Dare to Dream… Out Loud

Friday, the alarm clock called out with a particularly piercing and deafening tone. It was 5:45 am; an ungodly hour for anyone, in my books. Instinctively, nasty and savage thoughts ran through my mind as I glared at the smug alarm clock’s face; I wanted to wring its chubby little neck, kick it in the shins, or toss it into the lake head-first (if only I lived near a lake). But the best I could hope for was the satisfaction of insisting for two more minutes, by smacking the snooze button with a grumpy huff. Two millisecond-minutes later, the prompt and persistent Mr-Smug-alarm-clock once again summoned me to spring out of bed, with a grating margin of pushiness.  

Fine. But I wouldn’t do it smiling. And there would be no springing.

With one feeble and ungainly stride, I swung my legs out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, whining under my breath and generally exercising my god given right to sulk about having to get up so early (a well established routine). ;) I flicked the light switch and hastily screened my eyes, avoiding the momentary blinding by the florescent bulbs, which I’m certain are in cahoots with Mr-Smug-alarm-clock.

I reached for my toothbrush while avoiding eye contact with the mirror. I stared at the sink which needed scrubbing instead (it was on my to-do list). There was a time when I looked straight ahead and recognized my customary reflection, but with no forewarning, my faithful mirror has seemingly turned on me. In vain, I reluctantly peeked ever so carefully, hoping to see the feisty girl who merrily flutters within my soul. *sigh* But there she was… the middle-aged impostor, staring right back at me. Naturally, I stuck out my tongue and resolved to self-pity. It’s not fair! *stomping feet*. I marched to the tub, cranked the hot water faucet and stepped into the shower, snubbing the fact that I was dawdling and would probably be late for work. Work shmirk. I was allowing myself one final kick at the pity-can before coming to grips with my ghastly, yet imminent reality. Work could damn well wait until I was done having my middle-aged temper tantrum. ;)

I drew in a breath and held it for as long as I could without passing out, then I exhaled slowly… winced slightly, then said out loud (for the time-gods to hear me), “Fine. Fine. FINE. I’m middle-aged… you win! Bring on the impending facial hair and menopause, lay it on me!” *sigh* I paused, then grinned slyly and added, “You can keep my former reflection, you can take my curves, you can even steal my feisty smile, but make no mistake big-fat-time-gods… you cannot have my dreams. They’re mine… thank you very much”.  

And it was in that moment, friends… there in the shower (just me and the big-fat-time-gods), that reality hit me square in the throat. Time is slipping by, and I have got to get crack’en!! I have a dream! A dream I tell you! I’ve been sitting on my duff for too long, making excuses and putting off that dream until tomorrow. Perhaps it’s time to make time?

I wonder… am I the only one who has had this kind of realization? It’s as though I’ve been hit over the head with a brick-house! Is this a middle age thing? Am I going to follow through, or will the feeling of being hit over the head with a brick-house wear off? What if it does? What then? Will it be ten years from now when the brick-house knocks me over again, and I’m up to my ears with regret for not jumping on the band-wagon ten years prior?!

My head is spinning. I think a swarm of bees have taken my thoughts hostage! But I’m not wasting any more time, today’s the day to dream, out loud!

Dare to dream with me, friends!