Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Music, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Goals, Hard Work, Perserverance on February 1, 2013| 8 Comments »
You’ve been scrubbing your teeth, swilling the swash and downing the whiskey and water in an attempt to rid the aftertaste of my defeat from the back of your tongue. Like me, one click and you were sunk; immersed in the deep of my abyss.
Swamped.
I feel guilt. I gave no warning. I offered no escape.
Today is a new day. I found a ladder. Grab a rung. We’ll raise a glass at the top.
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Fairy Tales, Internet, Perserve, Poison on January 31, 2013| 8 Comments »
Well, this post is not at all what it was going to be today.
I set out to write a meaningful, poignant tale, light enough to laugh and bruised enough to hurt, but I got distracted by the shiny, sparkly dog running around my room, barking; “Squirrel!”
Nah, not really, but I did, with the click of a button, get whisked away to a world where there can be, at times, a little too much information. Perhaps you’ve been there…
It’s a land where lies can be truths and certainties can be deceptions, genuine can be false and fake can seem authentic. There can be endless hope and eternal damnation and all can be ceaselessly damaging.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t have letters following my name or awards in my bio, I don’t have any notable education in writing and I don’t work in a profession relating to my passion and what I hope will eventually become my career.
Yes, it’s easy to fall down the hole and find darkness in place of dreams, tempting to give up and let the bad wolf blow our house down and sometimes irresistible to believe the sky is falling, but the good new is, we have a choice.
Finding the girl that fits the glass slipper or coming back from eating the poisoned apple is not easy, but no one ever said it would be.
It does help though, when we know our unfolding fairy tale is being read.
Posted in Baking, Blogging, Cooking, Creative Writing, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Parenting, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Baking, Recipe, Rocky road bars on January 26, 2013| 11 Comments »
A kitchen chimp, I have never claimed to be.
Yesterday, my oldest son competed a set of very intense exams and I wanted to do something special for him. But what could I do? Like most kids not living in a third world country, he has most everything he could ever want.
And then it came to me…food! Ah, yes, food. He’s a guy. He’s a teen. It’s perfect! The problem is, I can’t cook. Alright, I can cook, but not like a chef, you know? I couldn’t come up with something special enough. Not something that was; I just finished a Physics, Pre-Calc, Programming and English exam, worthy.
And then I realized I didn’t have to cook, I could create instead. He loves the Rocky Road bars from Blenz. He’s slightly addicted to them but doesn’t get them nearly often enough being that his mother is a Starbucks kinda girl.
As I searched the ‘net for a recipes, (yes, I actually had to look for recipes for Rocky Road) I began to see that there are many versions of what I thought would be a simple endeavor, even for me.
My brain started ticking (it does do that sometimes) and I decided to make my own concoction. Yay me!
Those of you who don’t know me are reading on in wonderment, amazed that I have survived this long, with three kids mind you, possessing such feeble culinary abilities, and those of you that do know me, have signed off, bored with reading what is common knowledge.
I’ve only ever owned one apron. It was a long ago Christmas present from a friend who loves herself just enough to be totally awesome and is, by the way, a fantastic cook. It has a caricature type image of her on the front and says; “I mean really! What did she expect? Did she actually think the surgeon would agree to make her look just like Jennifer? Everyone knows you can’t just replicate that kind of breathless beauty!”
I swear I couldn’t make that up if I tried. I now use it for cutting my husband’s hair.
So, I donned my new, still tagged apron and melted half a kilo of semi-sweet chocolate chips in a glass mixing bowl atop a pot of bubbling water, added five scoops, okay maybe half a jar of creamy peanut butter, a few handfuls of extra smashed walnuts and many…many tiny, fluffy marshmallows.
The one point where I believed, not surprisingly, that I had screwed it up was when I chose to sheepishly add some condensed milk. I admit I knew it was risky, but went ahead anyway. If you don’t know already, and you probably do, that shizzle brings melted chocolate to a halt. What is that about? To fix it, and I figured this out all by my lonesome, I poured in some regular milk. It took several minutes of sweat ‘n’ stir but gradually the mixture returned to its flowy, Wonka river-like state. Whew!
My son was thrilled and I don’t think it was just about the Rocky Road. Sometimes it’s really just the simple things.
Posted in Blogging, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Rant, Relationships, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Aging, Beauty, Fitness, Growing old, Youth on January 10, 2013| 10 Comments »
“Man, she looks old now.” My husband commented months ago. He was nonchalant about it, mindlessly gazing at the TV, no idea of the cougar he’d just unchained.
No pun intended. Okay, I might’ve intended.
Driving the kids to school this morning, the radio gave me food for blogging thought. This is what happens when you listen to high quality, #1 Hits/Top 40 radio. When you have teens, you don’t get to choose the station. In fact, you’re not even allowed to be in the car, except they can’t drive, so you’re bestowed a temporary pass.
The radio voices were discussing Demi Moore, their conversation triggered by the fact that she (Demi) is currently at a fitness retreat in Mexico. They were saying she looks amazing for her age but; “get real girl, it’s time to give it up. You’re old.” Is it just me, or do these two statements wipe each other out? Why shouldn’t she look amazing? And, she looks amazing, you barely off the teat whippersnapper, because she doesn’t give it up. I’m confused.
Demi Moore is 51. First of all, 51 is the new 31 (in my books) and why, for the love of God, would she need to, let alone want to stop working out, trying to look fit, healthy and youthful? I almost feel the need to do a Vlog here so you can see the look on my face and hear the incredulous tone in my voice and if you knew how much I loathe being on video, you’d know how serious I am.
So, on the one hand, we have my 44 year old husband taking down Ashley Judd for gracefully easing into her 45th year (a mere 25 in Hazy years) and on the other, we have 25 year old disc jockeys berating Demi for doing everything in her power to maintain whatever kind resemblance she can to her own self.
What is wrong with this picture?
It’s apparent Ashley and Demi both work hard at doing whatever it is that makes them feel good. I know their looks fund their livelihood and that plays a large part, (who could blame them) but it can’t be denied that it feels marvelous to be carded long past being legal, no matter who you are.
Why this gets so deep under my inevitably aging skin is unclear to me. Maybe it’s because I’m 42. Maybe it’s because I’m inevitably aging. Maybe it’s because society can’t make up their minds…work at it, stay youthful or let it go, look old.
Or maybe it’s because, when it comes to aging appearances, men just have it too easy.
Whatever your number…
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Before and After, Decorating, Home, Photos, Renovations, Repairs, Updating on December 28, 2012| 7 Comments »
Let’s not get all snappy. I appreciate what I have. I do! There’s a roof over my head. Okay, it happens to be a brand new, 30,000-dollar, high end, cedar shake roof, but I’d appreciate it no matter what kind of roof it was. Truly.
The fact is this house is old. It’s not cool old, like everything in it is assorted, artful and antiquish. It’s old, like everything in it is corroding, crumbling and collapsing.
Alright, alright. It’s not that bad. In fact, my house is quite lovely. It’s a warm and cozy, well used, lived in home. But it is becoming apparent that a little more than a lick of paint and a few new area rugs are required.
I’ve referred to my dining room and talked about my bathroom in previous posts and…I’m doing it again. Sorry! I’m just sooo darn excited! Getting new things is always nice, but knowing things are being repaired, replaced and renewed the right way is glee-inducing. (think Mike Holmes of Make it Right)
I’m giddy just dreaming about my grown-up showerhead and freshly poured cement. I’m ecstatic imagining a ceiling without cracks and a pristine vanity. The old one was stained with every color my hair has ever been and the bottle of porcelain chip repair sat on guard 24/7 in the medicine cabinet.
Yes, getting new things is wonderful, but having old things is a privilege. It means we’ve shared our space, we’ve created memories, we’ve…lived. Out with the old, in with new as they say, but let’s not forget the value of the scratched, the scuffed and the scraped. After all, they were there for us when we needed them.
BEFORE photo of a sideboard I bought at Value Village for $40
Said sideboard, revamped.
Darkness…
Let there be light…
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Creativity, Freedom, Risk, Writer, Writing on December 27, 2012| 16 Comments »
Will I ever be a good writer?
They say the best are those who have no one, hermits, recluses, loners. Everyone they know, dead and gone, all chance of new connections sacrificed. Perhaps, purposely avoided.
I know a lot of people.
I like them. I want to keep them.
I think about and analyze each word, never mind sentence, that I write. It’s hard. Hard to write fiction that may be taken as truth. Is she the sexually abused, the office wallflower, the promiscuous teen…the brokenhearted?
Writing is a risk. People are always going to read into your words….your stories and make them into what they need them to be.
It’s dicey and, it. is. frightening.
But, it is what we’re gifting. Leeway. License. Liberty. Those who know us will get it.
The ice may crack, a bridge might collapse and we could be dealt a crappy hand.
Forget easy eights, but if we’re willing to work a hard six, we may just hit a lucky seven.
Posted in Blogging, Hardship, Life, Non-Fiction, Parenting, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Christmas, Connecticut, Newtown, Tragedy on December 21, 2012| 6 Comments »
Children are exhausting ~ a full-on, twenty-four/seven job.
I have three and I’ve never been so thankful to be run-ragged in all my life.
With respect to Newtown, Connecticut, I have lingered over my own public recognition of this event. After all, who am I? I know no one. I don’t understand. I can’t relate.
But, I do feel, I am heartsick and sadly, I have never lacked imagination.
To become entangled in deliberation, speculation and persecution would be unfair to the fallen and their families. In their honor, I choose simplicity…
Dear Santa,
Forget Christmas. Tragedy doesn’t regard time nor know its place.
Forever and always, gift peace, strength, safety and goodwill and, if you’re honestly magical, maybe one day it will be a shorter wait to access medical help than a weapon and the ‘right to bare arms’ will simply mean that shirts without sleeves can be worn by anyone, anywhere, anytime.
Yours,
Truly Hazy
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, tagged Canadian Tire, Christmas, Christmas lights, Christmas tree, Holidays on December 12, 2012| 7 Comments »
Hung with care, I’m not so sure, but hung…absolutely!
The tree is up and lit, mind you, decorations adorn various nooks and crannies and from the outside the house emits a mysterious glow. Mysterious, that is, because half our lights are burned out. This realization came, of course, after hanging them. Who checks beforehand? “Probably everyone,” I tell my husband.
When the season was first upon us, I, in denial, stood before shelf after engorged shelf, each one literally bursting with boxes of dazzling illumination. Seriously, if you had cash, credit or those nifty Canadian Tire dollars, the cream of the crop was yours for the picking. They even light them now in tiny, little display portals so you can see what it is you’re buying. This would’ve been handy years ago, when LED’s first appeared on the scene and we bought string after string of mismatched blues.
Fast track to today. The shelves are bare, scattered with only what has been rejected and need I say…or, are you feeling my foreshadowing? I’ll toy with you a little more…
They have big, acorn-sized white, they have primary shades (not the beautiful, crown jewel type gems) and they have, yes, the old school clear glass, non-LED (a.k.a. non-enviro friendly) type bulbs.
But, do they have the two strings of plain blue that I need to replace my, somehow, LED rule-defying burned out strings? No. They don’t have two. They have one.
In the big ‘Christmas is too commercialized, this is not what it’s about’ scheme of things, it really isn’t a big deal. #firstworldproblems However, it is still frustrating and the fact doesn’t change that the lights, are indeed up, and our house be lookin’ cray cray.
Nonetheless, Christmas is well on its way in our good old homestead. I was starting to think this was finally the year I’d actually have to say; I dunno what happened. I guess we just missed it.
But missing it, we’re not. There are all kinds of parties to get to, lunches to be had, shopping trips planned and family time organized and I know it will all be over and gone in the blink of an eye.
I do this every year. I pull as Christmas pushes and anxiety builds with every popped Advent window. It’s because I forget. I forget that as it gets closer I start to stop. I stop shying, shuddering and shirking and I start embracing, engaging and entangling whatever the season brings.
And it’s good. Good to forget that I remember, good to remember that I forget, because I still want the magic and, it’s alway there….way at the back of the shelf. I only have to turn on the lights to find it.
Our Tree!
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Inspiration, Life, Lists, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Accomplishments, Cheer, Christmas, Holidays, Photos, Progress on December 8, 2012| 2 Comments »
No really, things are going well. Sure, my husband has been away for weeks on end, I’ve had the mother of all stubborn head colds – you know the kind where your skin and hair follicles weep when touched – and a Bubonic Plague type flu has molested everyone else in our house Grim Reaper style, but…things are getting done.
I have made more than a dent in the Christmas shopping. Of course there’s way too much for one and not enough for another, but still, achieving, and…I’ve wrapped pretty much everything I’ve purchased so far. Oh, I said it. Oh yes I di-id.
I’ve already mailed my parcels overseas (at least a month early for me – yes, they usually get there in January provided I’m ‘on the ball’) and I even managed to throw a few lights up on the house front. Well, two mini trees, some sparkly snowflakes and a couple of LED wrapped urns to be exact.
Mini Tree
Sparkly Snowflakes
LED Wrapped Urn
I’ve been giving my dining room a facelift and we’re finally (after more than two long years) filling what I have affectionately dubbed the exposed beam and insulation display room upstairs with stuff to make it, well, you know, a bathroom once again. We’re doing all of this now, after waiting all this time because right before Christmas is the perfect moment to start big projects, make an enormous mess and spend even more money, yes? No. But it’s all happening, regardless.
Chair Before
Chair After
Exposed Beam & Insulation Display Room
Extra stress and every spare moment spoken for aside, it is awesome to be accomplishing so many things. After all, what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and at the risk of sounding all too presumptuous, I will live to see another tomorrow.
(Please excuse my shoddy snaps ~ a photographer I am not!)
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Balls, Christmas, Festive, Grinch, Holidays, Presents, Santa Claus, Spirit on November 30, 2012| 12 Comments »
I’ve decided to go with it. It’s gotta get done. Whether or not, I’m the one. So, ‘if I can’t beat ‘em, I join ‘em” and all that merry, ho ho fun.
I don’t know when it happened, but, over the years, slowly, surely, dreading Christmas has become second nature for me. I don’t quite have custom “Grinch” tags sewn into my long johns, but do I jump up and down, fitfully clapping my hands upon the first sighting of halls decked with festive balls? Umm, no.
So, the other day, I took a blowtorch to the Abominable Snowman shrouding my slowly melting heart, cranked the carols and flew my sleigh off to that magical place that has all things Christmas. I shopped ‘til I dropped a wad of dough, drank my fair share of Peppermint Mochas and developed the shakes due to a lack of social media couch time.
And you know? It wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it was kind of empowering. I took Christmas by its jingle bells under my wing and forced, err welcomed it to do things my way ease on into the stocking parked next to mine.
Make no mistake – when presents are wrapped, cards are sent out, my pen is capped and gone is my pout, I enjoy nothing more than a naughty ‘nog by the fire where I can dream big dreams of all I desire.
After all, the honor of putting the star on the tree, is not entirely lost on me.
Kin With Your Skin
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Hazy Shades of Me 