Melting Moments
mounds of blueberry fluff float in a strawberry sky kiss embrace become one and spill over into swirling tongues that lick the horizon melting moments. Copyright © 2010 by Sandra Heska...
Squirrel Thoughts – Sweating
SQUIRREL!! On my pillow this morning. First thing. And it’s all because of these. Who puts shoe forms in flip-flops anyway? These are Reeboks. What my husband wears around the house. Flip flop. Flip flop. Flip flop. So irritating! And I think he could mass produce them and sell them in the clock department. As alarms. They wake me up every morning as he moves around the bedroom. And the forms? His words. “I’ve got to put them somewhere.” Speaking of produce. What am I going to do with all these cucumbers? I battled my way through a jungle yesterday to find these. I think there are more hiding in there. But after finding, picking, and carrying, I was exhausted. And sweating! Which reminds me. Duane hurt my feelings because he...
So What Is Real?
Are you for real? Can online relationships be real? Today Karin Fendick and I swap posts in the spirit of “friendship and community” as part of a High Calling Blogs community writing project called You Are Real. I don’t remember now how I “met” Karin, but I love to rest at bit a her place where she shares her heart and some beautiful photos. So today I welcome Karin (His FireFly). I love what she says about what can happen when God is involved in online relationships. Oh, and I’m posting today on Real Stuff, Real People over on her blog, Flickers of a Firefly. Check it out! And click over to HCB and check out the links to some other stories. And now . . . here’s Karin. Road Home So What Is Real? I live on twenty...
Letting Go Of Ego
Embraced by self I dissect every failure.Gripped by pride I focus on every flaw.Oppressed by fear I stumble with every step. So . . . I amletting go of ego and clinging to the greatI AM. NOTE: This post is part of the One Word Blog Carnival on EGO. For other thoughts, visit One Word at a Time. Copyright © 2010 by Sandra Heska...
Comfort in Discomfort
I am a nurse. Trained to dispense comfort. Sooth fears. Lessen pain. Ease anxiety. Provide hope. Give strength. But that’s not always comfortable. For patient or nurse. For the nurse it might mean to insist on discomfort. For the patient it might mean: to breathe deep and cough when it feels like an incision will explode. to walk when it feels like one more step is impossible. to take medicine that causes the yucks. to accept a dreaded needle. to avoid comfort food and learn to eat healthy. to give up control and allow exposure. However, an order might read, “comfort measures only.” This usually means the patient is past the point of restored health and that death will occur before long. Eat what you want. Do what you want. Refuse what...
Summer Seating
I have a writing room of my own. I offered a tour here. But I’ve gravitated to the living room. To the soft leather chair with the soft leather footstool. With the laptop on my lap. Or half on the footstool and half on my knees. Front row center for Tiger baseball games. And because Gracee, when she’s here, prefers me to be on her level rather than sequestered in the penthouse. My studio (I like to call it a studio–it sounds so artsy, so writerly) is neat. My summer seating is not. a cat licks lemonade swirl ice cream from the chocolate-coated spoon and bowl (katdish’s fault–she made me do it) that sit atop a notebook on the floor to my left next to a dirty white slipper (where IS the other one?) a fan of bills that aren’t due...
Squirrel Thoughts – Crybaby
Monday: Melancholy day. Like every day after coming home from a visit with my sissy. Tuesday. Bad day. Crybaby day. Foot-in-mouth disease day. We all have them. This video helped me. I posted it on Facebook. But for those of you who didn’t see it, here it is again. It made me laugh. So I’m over it. I’m also over piddle on public toilet seats. And prebagged grapes. I always feel guilty taking half out. That whole bag would rot before we could eat it. Same with bananas. A produce man once yelled at me for breaking off three bananas from a bunch of ten, or maybe twenty. I cried. I thought I heard Gracee crying while I was in the shower yesterday. Sounded like the produce man had beaten her with a bunch of bananas. Turns out she is now a deluxe...
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April 19-21, 2013 (past but not forgotten)
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