The Badlands

In the shadow of
the dying trees,
the path becomes
the decaying remains
of all hope, of all life,
now only the dying light
struggles to show the way;
the failing seasons turn
to the never ending grey,
grim and raw,
the blistering wind
renders us unwelcome

as our journey founders
with unsure steps.

Start With A Mix

As I've mentioned before, I really love cooking! I love trying new recipes, experimenting with different combinations and the such, but let's face it, there isn't time to make something such as wild rice and apricot stuffed pork tenderloin every night. At least there isn't in my universe. So......the key is to find quicker dishes, those without a lot of prep that still make a satisying meal.....

Mexican Casserole

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Cheesy Nacho Hamburger Helper
1 pound lean ground beef

Make the Hamburger Helper just like it says on the box.

Then add:

1 15 oz can of black beans, rinsed and drained
1 11 oz can whole kernal corn, drained
1 4 oz can green chilis
1/2 cup salsa (as hot or mild as you would like)
1/2 cup sour cream

Mix well and spread into 9 x 13 pan, top with 1 cup crushed tortilla chips and 1 1/2 cup shredded cheese (I use the mexi blend) and cook for 25 minutes. Then Enjoy!

Do You Have Problems With Your Neighbors?

Lament

There is a silence within my soul,
a dwelling place for forgotten dreams,
of all things fallen away,
lost in twilight, in the fading light,
with voices small, and cries unheard,
further they fall into the burning abyss,
treacherous in my betrayal,
I become the lament.

Something Else I Miss

Another cartoon that I greatly miss is Calvin & Hobbes....ah the simple story of a boy and his tiger! One of my all time favorites is when Calvin snuck out of the house in the middle of the night, walked to a payphone, called home and announced the time and asked "Do you know where I am?" And I loved the snow creatures that they would make to greet Dad at the end of a long day at work! Simple proof that with a good imagination there is no limit to the places you can go.

Ephemeral

The moments,
ephemeral,
slip past,
beyond notice;
without reproach,
we concede them
to the wasteland,
misspent and
forgotten,
into the breach;
to the next,
and the next,
endless, insatiable
we squander them;
vain in our
disregard,
without humility
or care,
until descending
darkness quells
our hollow storm.

My Father's Daughter

Who we are, is at least to some degree, attributable to those people who are influential in our lives whether that is our parents, our siblings, our grandparents or aunts and uncles, etc. When I look at who I am, I know that I can look to my father and give some credit (or blame) for a number of things about who I am and how I think:

1) An inherent distrust of the government. My father was a registered Democrat (but he knew there were devils in the Democrats as well) and he served his country in Korea, but he viewed the government as sort of a necessary evil. As something that should be questioned and challenged. He was not one to believe in blind faith or taking things at face value (this applied to more than the government). Yes, he knew that we had it lucky in this country, but that didn't mean that he believed that the government always looked out for the best interest of the people. He thought the government had given themselves too much power (especially the IRS) and that we would be best served by watching our back.

2) A rather warped sense of humor. I think that one of the reasons I've always been a fan of The Far Side or other slightly off center humor is directly tied to my father and the things that he thought were funny (these were not necessarily things that other people thought of as funny). When I was 17, Daddy sent me to the basement to get something. This DID NOT make me happy. Since childhood I had been terrified of the basement (and it still gives me a bit of the creeps). My fear was exploited and greatly intensified by my older brother locking me in the basement after we watched a horror movie (which I really shouldn't have been watching at such a tender age). My father KNEW that I was terrified of the basement and that I would go to greater lengths to avoid having to go into what I consider the depths of hell. I tried, in vain, to convince him that he didn't really need whatever he was asking for (I don't even remember what he wanted). So down I got into the pit of darkness and what do I find (yes, what he sent me for) but a canary yellow Ford Mustang. Of course, I run back upstairs to interrogate my father with, "Is it mine? Is it for me?" I was dying because of course I'd been hoping for a car and I was 17 years old and not having a car was killing me. He refused to answer me....for two weeks! I quizzed him daily, almost non-stop. I was so excited, I just couldn't wait for him to finally tell me that, yes, the car was mine. If you recall how exciting it was to get your first car, you can imagine how I was feeling! I was on pins and needles, feeling like I could just burst out of my skin. After two weeks one of my father's friends came to get the car he'd bought for his granddaughter! I was crushed and my father got a great laugh at my expense. (For the record, I ended up with a 1979 Chevrolet Malibu Classic Station wagon (oh joy) that I named Sherman to protest its size.)

3) Being stubborn. In all fairness, I got a double whammy on this one as both my parents were possessed with a peculiarly strange breed of stubborn stubborness. I can be quite stubborn about things if I feel strongly about it.

4) Stand up for what you believe in. You should pick your causes and your battles, but once you did, you were in it for the long haul. What you believed in was a vital extension of who you are and it should be fought for and protected.

5) How to play mind games with other drivers and force them off the road without ever touching their vehicle. For the record, I've never done this, but it might come in handy one day. It was a little something that my father picked up from a guy during the "union wars". While my father's love for the union waned as he saw them being corrupted by politics and other ills, there was a time when he was a firm advocate for unions and what they could do to help improve employee conditions. He was actually fired for trying to get a union started where he worked (and eventually rehired).

6) Holding a grudge. Yep, I have this in spades (check out my Know Thyself?? post and the entries about the girl in the second grade who stole my pencils). But my father could carry a grudge like no one else. In high school, there was a guy who was interested in me and the feeling was mutual. But my father had a long-standing grudge against someone in the guy's family and refused to let him in the house. So we would stand or sit on the front porch in the freezing cold....maybe if it had been the fall or spring, this would have lasted longer.

7) Extreme solutions. Not always, not even usually, but sometimes. My brother is similarly afflicted (he got my mother to finally make out a will by threatening to burn the house down rather than let the state have it). I was having trouble getting the dealer I had bought a vehicle from to correct some things that needed correcting. So I threatened to take the vehicle back and set it on fire in the dealer's lot. My mother called my brother and said that he'd better help me because I was acting like my father! I don't think that I actually would have set the truck on fire, at the dealer's or anywhere else, but it sounded like a good idea at the moment that I said it. (But I have no doubt my brother would have burned the house down.)

8) God isn't only in church, he's everywhere. Daddy believed in God, but he didn't believe that politics belonged in the church. I've always been a little unclear about exactly what happened, but it pissed him off enough that he never darkened the door of church again. But that didn't change his faith or keep him from passing it on to us. He didn't mind if we went and in fact, encouraged it in his own way, but his mind was made up (remember: stubborn, ability to hold a grudge).

9) Temper, Temper, Temper. My temper isn't nearly as bad as it used to be (years in customer service has taught me how to manage it better), but if I ever lose it, you might as well evacuate the area. The walls are going to shake and the paint is going to peel. My father was a road rager far before anyone coined the term. You did NOT want to pull out in front of that man and cause him to have to slam on his brakes. There was one time that I am still quite convinced that if me and mother hadn't been in the car, he would have just plowed this guy over. But that guy probably still has nightmares about the guy who came after him like a bat out of hell, lights flashing and tailgating way too close for comfort. I have a couple of road rage stories myself, but we'll leave those for another day.

Oh, there are plenty more and some that are probably more important than these, but these are what came to me. And I know that as I've grown older and learned more about our family, that the way I see him now is different than the way that I saw him when I was a kid and the many ways that he could have turned out a different person (both better and worse).

When my father was about 5 or 6 years old, he lost his younger brother (he died just short of his second birthday). My grandmother said that it was the defining moment in his life and that the person he was after was completely different than the person he was before. Before, he had been a very loving and affectionate kid, always full of hugs and I love you's. After that, he didn't hug anymore and there were no more I love you's. I've wondered if he ever told my mother, because he never said those words to his children. It's not that I believe that he didn't love us, but it would have been nice to have heard-just once.

Losing his brother also made my father want to never lose another person that he loved. So on June 12, 1989, my father got up, got ready, went to the kitchen, looked out the windows to check for rabbits or other creatures that would cause the dog to go nuts when he took him out, and got his wish of not outliving any of those people he that loved. He cut his head on the kitchen table when he fell, but the doctor's said he never felt it because he died immediately of massive heart trauma. I still remember that day with a clarity that is eerie. My brother had recently moved back home and was working third shift. He came home shortly after 7:00AM to find my father on the kitchen floor. He went to get my mother. I had been out late the night before and I recall hearing someone running through the house and shot up in the bed. I was completely awake, you know the way you get when something scares you awake. My heart was pounding and my first thought was that the house was on fire. And then a sudden calm came over me and I thought, "If the house is on fire, they'll come get me" and went straight back to sleep. I think God knew that I couldn't face seeing my father dead on the floor that morning and spared me that grief. I wasn't awakened again until after the ambulance had come and gone. But he got his wish..he left behind his wife, his children, his parents, his sister and a dear great aunt. We would all outlive him, which is exactly what he wanted...to never lose another person he loved whether or not he could tell us how he felt.

Intellectually, you know that your parents are not going to be around forever. Emotionally, I'm not sure we're ever prepared and I wasn't ready for him to go so soon. I was a late baby for my parents and he was only 56.

There are times when it seems so long ago, that it doesn't seem quite real. And there are other times when the wound seems so fresh that I could just break down into tears as if someone had just told me that my Daddy was gone. I don't visit his grave that often, because I know that he isn't there and somehow I know that when I talk to him, that if he can hear me, he can hear me from wherever I am and that standing over his grave isn't going to make the reception any better. And I believe that he would be okay with that. He dearly loved and missed his baby brother, but I don't recall one time that he went to visit his grave. Like me, he knew that those that are gone are never really gone as long as we keep them with us.

And for good or bad, I know that I am, and I'm proud to be, my father's daughter.

Free

Put to bed this unrest,
and ease my weary soul,
a place to lay my head,
and hide from the world,
a harbor safe,
a haven sheltered,
calm and quiet,
a gentle breeze
to comfort me,
soothe my brow
and set me free.

In Those Moments

In those moments,
quiet and dead,
we see the blood,
in the sand,
on our hands;
when reason dies,
when passion fades,
the dark shows
our lost way;
in bitter and rage,
in anguished dispair,
in tiny pieces,
the slow dying
of a grieving soul.

Halt! Who Goes There?

When I first started blogging, thanks to my friend Heidi, I developed a mini obsession with whether or not anyone was actually coming by and visiting. I would check, with nervous anticipation, to see if anyone had dropped by and posted a comment. Hmmmm, not a lot of comments...was anyone coming by? So I added Site Meter so I could at least see if anyone really was coming by. And I found that some people were actually coming by and over time some of them started leaving comments, and some became return visitors and added me as a link on their blog (the ultimate blogging compliment). It brings a smile to my face to drop by my blog and see a new comment, to have the lovely compliments posted to my poetry and to know that some people enjoy the blog enough that they keep coming back! Thanks to all of you who have stopped by, to those who have invited me into your world and who have become part of mine!

The Breakdown:

North America 80%
Europe 15%
South America 3%
Asia 2%

United States 77%
United Kingdom 8%
Netherlands 3%
Canada 2%
Germany 2%
Japan 2%
Greece 1%
France 1%
Costa Rica 1%
Belize 1%
Argentina 1%

How cool is that?

The Fine Art of Journaling

For me, a journal is a rather messy way of recording my thoughts & feelings, a way to rant, rave and vent (see my post "Only In Hell Would This Be Funny), to record random quotes and creative inklings (in the hope that one day that might lead to something else). It doesn't have to be organized and since it isn't for anyone else, it doesn't have to be neat or make sense to anyone but me. While I have thoroughly enjoyed my relatively new foray into blogging, for me true journaling occurs with pen and paper. Yes, I know that sounds rather old fashioned in this technological age, but when I write something by hand I find it far more satisfying & cathartic than typing (or keyboarding). I love the sensation, the connection between my thoughts and the paper seem somehow more real when I write them by hand. Some of the poetry entries on this blog were first written by hand and then transferred here.
I can't even tell you how many different journals that I've had in my life, but sometimes the journal itself is inspiring. Some have had quotes on the pages, others had paper that was itself soft and comforting and others still were chosen for their beautiful covers that just spoke to me somehow, sparked some interest, some creative craving. One time I had a "Grateful Journal" when the goal each day was to come up with 3 different things that I had to be grateful for. Sometimes, I wish I still had one of those journals. When I was feeling down, it could be a challenge to come up with entries, but when I looked back through the previous pages, I was reminded in all the small & big ways that my life was truly blessed.

Feeding the Addiction

I created a new blog, Fractal Fever, dedicated to my new found obsession with creating fractal art. I thought that might be a little easier than overwhelming this blog with them. Not sure how long this will last....but while it does, figured I might as well go with it! They are so amazing and so filled with possibility!

Electric

My body electric,

I quiver inside my skin;

the universe,

its pounding pulse

beats within me;

unsettled within this

swirl of thoughts,

I hear myself,

screaming into the void.

Edge

I am the child standing
upon the sharp edge of forever,
uncertain, in my blindness,
unprepared, fate in my hands,
the unbearable weight of being
crushing into my soul,
the splintering universe pierces,
feel the lost, tormented ones
pouring into me the long years
of unspent misery,
desperate cries unhinge me,
becoming,
understanding,
we are one in the mist.

This Is Just So Cool

I was "next bloggin" when I stumbled across a blog that had a fractal created by the blogger who had found another blog that had instructions and a link for downloading a program that allows you to do this. Unfortunately, and curses, I lost the blog that contained the link for the free program (something called Tiera-Zon). Sorry guys/girls because I'd love to give you credit for this. I had such fun doing this even though I lost the blog that had all the great instructions. Nothing like just clicking on the options and seeing what happens. Because trust me, I do not understand the math behind this!

Meme

Meme A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

I was spending some time blog hopping to some of my favorite blogs, when I stopped at A View of the Mountains and an interesting exercise. You are tagged by someone else who tags you with a letter and then you write 10 words that begin with that letter and what the word means to you. Blackcrag tagged me with the letter R (and I'm grateful that he didn't give me something like X or Q). So here goes (and yes, if you'd like me to tag you, just drop me a comment and I'll be happy to do so).

Rain This is the first word that came to my mind when I was tagged with the letter R. I love the rain. There is something so calm, so soothing and so cleansing about the rain. When we replaced our roof, we looked into having a metal roof put on the house just to enjoy the sound of rain on it (the cost was prohibitive). I just feel so comfortable and relaxed when I sit and listen or watch the rain. Honestly, I'm not much of a sun worshipper and I think that world doesn't look its best under the harsh glare of sunlight. But after a rain shower, when the sky is still gray, all the colors are so much more vibrant, so much easier to see and enjoy. And all the plants, the grass, the trees seem somehow "happier". Thunderstorms are the best, when the rain is mixed with the thunder and the lightening in a deomonstration of nature's power. I always sleep best during a thunderstorm.

Rabbits There is something so sweet about little bunny rabbits. We had a lot of rabbits around when I was a child. Not only those that my father kept and we made pets of but the wild ones, too. Unlike today, there was hardly anyone around our house back then so the wild life was more abundent. I took four years of ballet as a little girl and my first ballet costume...yes, it was a bunny rabbit. I know gardner's probably aren't fond of them, but generally rabbits don't cause a lot of trouble and are a ton of fun to watch when they get to feeling frisky and chasing each other around.


Red The color red is bold, vibrant and beautiful. It is the mark of passion, of being bold and adventurous. The color of life. Red gets noticed....in nature, in clothing, in art. It isn't timid or afraid. (And I actually look pretty good in red.) It doesn't shy away or try to be a wallflower, it is 100% in your face!

Restaurants I love dining out. Yes, I love to cook, but there is something to be said for having someone else do the cooking (not to mention the clean-up). I love the concept of fast food (although it is admittedly not the healthiest open) when I'm in a hurry or just feeling too tired at the end of a long day. I love diners and fancy sit-downs. And I can even endure the wait in line if there is something that I'm really looking forward to. I love the Peanut Butter Chocolate Cookie Dough Cheesecake from the Cheescake Factory, the buffalo chili at Spirits on the River, the salad bar at The Poplar Lodge, the spicy chicken biscuit at Bojangles.....hmmm, maybe this is because I love food!

Rebellion A little rebellion is good for the soul. That part of us that drives us to fight conformity and to find our own way, to not accept the status quo, to fight the good fight even though it would be easier to sit back and do nothing, rebelling against "the man", fighting injustice, and refusing to just go along with whatever is popular or prevalent.

Raising Arizona I love this movie! For me, its rather hit of miss with the Coen brothers, but this is a big hit. I don't care how many times I see this movie, it always makes me laugh. I realize that we are not talking about "high" cinema with this pick, but that's okay. Who says that everything of value has to be intellectual.

Rescue There are a lot of ways to be rescued or to be a rescuer. There are the "common" ways such as firefighters running into a burning building to save someone, the police offer that responds to a call, the EMTs who bring us back from the brink, the doctors, etc. But we can rescue or be rescued emotionally as well as physically. Sometimes this can be as simple as connecting with someone who makes us feel that we are special. I bet that we've all aided in the rescue of another person at some time in our life and maybe without even knowing it. Maybe it was just saying hello to someone that we passed on the street, a small gesture that let them know that they weren't invisible. The genuine thank you that we offered someone that meant more to them than we could ever guess.

Reading I have a passion for the written world. From the time my sister started to teach me to read when I was little, I was in love with it. To pick up a book and learn something new or to go on an adventure, however imaginary, that transports us from the minutia of our lives. I love crawling into a nice, hot bubble bath with a cold drink and a good book. I love the places that I can go and the people that I can meet. We can take an endless amount of journeys. We can learn so much. We can enjoy the blogs!

Roads Despite my irritation with the traffic on roads, I love the possibilities that roads give us, the places that they can take us, the journeys that await us. I used to love the road trips that me and one of my friends used to take. We might pack a lunch and spend all day driving on the parkway, pulling over at every look, piddling around in the little towns along the way, watching people and taking pictures. Or we'd drive down to Charlotte just to eat at Darryl's. Or over to Tennessee to shop at the outlets.

Rivers When I was younger and my mother went through the change of lfe, my father developed some interesting hobbies. I was really too young to understand at the time everything that was going on, but my father did and decided that my mother needed her space and we needed to be out of it. One of his hobbies was gold panning which meant going up into the mountains and find a river or creek and panning for gold. This didn't net as many goodies as his metal detecting, but they were peaceful times, playing in the cool water without a care in the world. It was almost like you could pluck a leaf from a tree, give your troubles to it and place it on the water to be carried away. There is something nearly spiritual in the sound of the water running by, skipping over the rocks. Even though, as an adult, I'm not much of an outdoors person, the memory of playing in the untamed water while my father panned for gold brings a smile to my face.

....Hope

Only In Hell Would This Be Funny

So there I am sitting at my desk, its nearly six o'clock and my goal of leaving work no later than five thirty is gone and my new goal of leaving at six is in jeopardy when all of sudden this random thought pops into my head: Only in hell would this be funny. Where did this come from? What would be funny in hell? My job? My life?

My work day started around 8:00AM. With one person on vacation, it fell to me to start getting reports for one our clients ready. Okay, rolling along and then a snag...one of the reports shows shipping carryover that it shouldn't. Okay, open e-mail to send an urgent e-mail to get this taken care of. Hmm....nearly a 100 other e-mails that need my attention as soon as I can get these reports done. E-mail sent.

Now about these e-mails...let's troll through and get delete the spam, delete the notices alerting me to e-mails in other accounts that I don't have time to get to. Okay, start opening e-mails, reviewing reports, delete.

Crap, I've got to finish those check refunds. Since the billing department is still short one person, I had to review the check refunds...and because the powers that be in IT had yet to enter a work order to program for printing of these checks, I had to hand write all the checks. And because we're short in billing and because volume is at least twice what the client told us, I can now disburse the refunds, print labels, get them in the mail.

Instant Message..are you joining the call? Crap, a call with yet another client...forget it was moved up three hours. Okay, Okay, I'm calling in. Where did these other e-mails come from? Another instant message...can you look at an account? More e-mails. Stuffing envelopes while trying to take notes to update project plan. Another instant message...can I please make our salesman shut up. He's promising things that our phone system can't do. Trust me, the man talks to me like an idiot and if there was a smite button on my keyboard, he'd be toast. Make the most of it, can't air dirty laundry in front of the client. Salesman is talking...I'm now in physical pain...can anyone make it stop? More e-mails are coming in. My phone is ringing, but I can't answer because I'm on a call that should have been over in 15 minutes now over half an hour. Can I please correct the project plan? Uh, well, my calendar says that next Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday is the 6th, 7th and 8th....what do you want me to change it to? The client chimes in....those dates are right. Salesman stumbles, but keeps talking. Obviously, he gets paid for every word he speaks...that must be why he keeps talking, repeating what everyone says, but twisting it so it is no longer accurate. Another one of our guys jumps in and trys to correct it. Another IM..can you look at this account for me?

Crap, the Escrow Reconciliation for another client was due yesterday. Put call on mute while I print what I need, update it, send it. More e-mails are piling up.

Reports for another client pop-up. Take a look at them, fix the formatting and send them on. Then comes the e-mail....don't send those reports...we may have an issue. Hmm...you're a little late on that.

Finally, the call is over. Oh thank you, God!!

Finish the check refunds. Plow through e-mails. Read, respond. What is this?? Is everyone smoking crack?

Listen to voicemails. I can ignore all of them.

Review the invoices...send e-mail to accounting about revenue being assigned to the wrong location.

Oh yeah, have to do one thing from the wedding list. Call the jewelry store. Did you find out if the manufacturer of my ring makes a matching band? Why they wouldn't is beyond me. I can tell that the idiot never checked into it. Why am I not surprised...it's only been two months since we were in the store asking...she looked at my ring and said she'd never seen anything like it? Really? It came from this store...you sold it to him! She'll follow-up and get right back to me. Uh, huh, not holding my breath.

More e-mails, more reports, more phone calls. The mail comes, more work for billing. Not like we're not always a week behind.

Run to PetSmart...the pet store that has everything that you need....except for the "bed steps" that I happen to need. Great...lovely waste of time.

Access the on-line inquiries, work on them, work on them, work on them, work on them. More instant messages...can I see if these accounts have valid refunds. Yes, but they did it wrong, no and no. Please follow-up with the appropriate supervisors and ask them if their people actually passed their training certification tests.

Another voicemail...can I send an application to open a merchant account? Send snappy e-mail....No, we don't do this. How many times do I have to tell this guy that we don't do this? Does he speak English and only understand Swahili?

Various other requests, email, issues, problems...yadda, yadda, yadda.....

It's raining...actually it's pouring. I'd pray that the power would go out, but we would also need a lightening strike to take out the generator.

Instant Message...the phone ringing is me, please pick up. Okay, Okay. Where do you find the file...okay, go here and then here and then here...yeah, see that folder...open it...lots of files for you to play with. I know, I know.......I asked a number of times, but they won't commit to programming...we'll buy what we want and then they'll have to work with it.

E-mail from accounting confirming my earlier e-mail that revenue was assigned to the wrong location. Yes, but can we fix it?

Okay, I am now officially 4 days behind...but I'm leaving. I've got to go the grocery store. My staff worries that this is a bad idea...something about seeing me on the eleven o'clock news and not having bail money.

Driving...people are idiots. If you're going to turn, get into the turning lane...that is why it's there. Don't stop in this lane and then cut across the turn lane. The light is green....that means you can go. Yes, people, it looks like it might rain...that doesn't mean that you have to drive like it actually is raining.

Grocery store...okay, they still don't have this new thing for which I have a coupon. My luck, it will be available one day after my coupon expires. Okay, backtrack because I forgot something an aisle over...now two aisles over. Head for the self checkout. What's this.....a nice kid...yes, it would be lovely if you'd go ahead and scan all those 12 packs of soda while they're in the cart. Oh and you're going to put the paper towels and toilet paper down there to and help me out. Little did I know that only moments later, the house of cards would come undone all over the parking lot from bad stacking....in the pouring rain. Okay, it is really raining, hard. Getting soaked...drenched.....really soaked. Finally, all the groceries slung into the back of the bubaru....slam the cart into the cart holder.....jump into the car. Man, I am really, really soaked.

And you know what, only in hell would this be funny!