In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Oasis.”
A sanctuary is a place you can escape to, to catch your breath and remember who you are. Write about the place you go to when everything is a bit too much.
[One again playing catch up so I might do several of these over the next couple days….or not.]
Guess I have to admit to retreating to my bedroom. Not always because I need to escape, mind. It’s a place I go to get things done without anyone interrupting. Not that it works well for that, cuz the door is always open to anyone who walks in or calls from one or the other phone, or both at the same time, which can get busy, or whatever (however) has a mind to need something only I can give, so it’s not actually a place I can go for privacy, but it goes have that warm, back to the womb feeling. I can wrap up in my favorite super soft fleece throw and the “kids” I.E. my seven adorable, demanding, play-with-me little dogs via for a place of prominence next to me, basically pinning me in place until I can convince them to give me breathing room <g>
All in all, it works for me. My own company bores me. I need the interruptions, I guess.
At this time I’m quite happy with my title and tag line. It pretty much sums up everything I want it to. But I am willing to consider options.
Playing catch up with the Blogging U assignments. Hopefully when this is posted it will arrive at the right place, albeit fashionably late.
So who I am? Do any of us ever really know the answer to that. We change with every adventure or tragedy. It’s a constant, like breathing. Today I’m a mom trying to figure out what I can do to help my youngest back off the destructive path she’s following. Not much I can do at this time, but it’s very possible the girl is heading for rehab if she doesn’t get her act together.
Am also a mom praying my youngest son knows what he’s doing. We won’t go into that, just leave it where it is.
Luckily I think the other five have a handle on things. At the moment. For the time being. Welll….maybe their just not sharing yet. Did I mention the mother thing. I so was not kidding.
I’m also a new home owner. Nice, that. Unless you count the fact that I am having to deal with nine year old appliances that came with the nine year old home and the repairman doesn’t seem to know how to fix and doesn’t seem to want to honor the warranty. Maybe he’s hoping I’ll go away. Fool him, hey? <g>
So, new home, with land. We’re dipping our toe into the gardening and orchid pool. You might be hearing about that, me having a black thumb. Who should I go to for help but knowledgeable bloggers, doncha think?
Livestock too. I’ve got two silkie chickens (fully grown) in my spare bathroom cuz the youngest, remember I mentioned her, thinks it’s too cold and keeps bringing them back in. There’s an angora bunny the size of a Pomeranian in the bedroom and darned if she didn’t get a bleeding tarantula as well, so that and crickets in a habitat. I don’t like spiders or crickets. But she’s sitting in jail for DWI so guess who has to deal.
Won’t go into the seven dogs or four cats right now, cuz their my precious babies and I’ll likely say plenty about them as time goes by.
What do I want the blog to be. Gallimaufry. For those who haven’t read my opening post when I first opened into blogging (several years ago, block remember), and the “rewrite your first post entries” assignment for dailypost, gallimaufry is a hodge-podge or a jumble to thoughts. For me it’s like the writer’s journal that authors are recommended to do to jump start their daily writing. Right now since I’m in a two year block, this is hopefully going get me back into the habit of regular writing, (and the editing of a book a publisher has been waiting for coming up on two months) and conversing with the writing mailing lists and Live Journals I have opened over time dedicated to various areas of writing.
Oh yeah, I’m also a procrastinator, hopefully with your help, recovering. <g>
Why should you read my page, you ask? Simple answer….? Why not? I’ll try to entertain ya. No promises how well I’ll do. Procrastinator <wink>. All I can say is come check me out, chat awhile. You might find it worth your while.
Well, since my blog is about whatever I want to write at the moment in time, guess I’d like this site to be a place of indulgence, debate and expanding minds by sharing thoughts. Both mine and the folks who comment. Sharing ideas is the beginning of acceptance. That’s what the end game of this site could and should be.
Tonight begins a new year for us all. A new start, perhaps. All bright and shiny with lots of possibilities.
It’s also a time to break new ground. Or break bad habits. Resolutions that we all make and hope to see come to fruition.
My husband and I have a new home with lots of land to plant and grow and that’s what we’re setting our year’s plan on. We’re resolved to build our own little piece of heaven here. A garden. An orchid. A few head of stock. That’s our plan for this new year.
How about you drop a comment below, telling your own resolutions, elaborate or simple, we all have plans to make a better life in the future, right?
We cry for lots of reasons: sadness, pain, fear . . . and happiness. When was the last time you shed tears of joy?
That’s a hard one. I don’t cry much. When I’m pushed to tears it’s more than likely that one of my seven children have done something thoughtless or cruel. Yes, they can do that. They’re kids.
That’s not to say they can’t be wonderful and thoughtful as well. Lord in his heaven knows I adore each and every one of them. They are my eternal joy and my everlasting hell. You folks with adult kids, or even younger ones, likely know what I’m saying, hey?
But this entry is supposed to be about the joy, and after last year, Oct 31st, 2013 through the beginning of Oct this year, the joy has started coming in. We’ve bought the house that replaced the one destroyed in the flood at long last, after a YEAR of going through the process, well I’m thrilled, but no tears. Sorry.
Guess it could be because my babies get upset if they see me crying. And then the phones start to ringing cuz the kids, well the girls, have a hotline that could put law enforcement to shame.
But wait. Got it…..wait for it, dear readers, this is a good one. I do believe the thing that makes me cry for happy is romantic comedy. Yeah, you know those sappy final scenes where the couple have gotten through the hell that is their romance and lovely dovey commence. That chokes me up big time [cheeky grin] Hey, you asked.