We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained.

me, age 6 or 7

Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained. ~Marie Curie

Pappaw.

This is a video I made this morning from old photos of my grandfather. The song playing was one of his favorites that he used to sing to me when I was a little girl. It's really hard for me to listen to that song without crying my eyes out! Wasn't he so handsome? He was so funny! No matter what, he found a reason to laugh and smile. I could go on and on about my Pappaw but simply put, he was beautiful inside and out. I miss him every day.
*The children pictured with him are my mom and her two brothers. The dark haired beauty is my grandmother who can be seen here. I am the alien baby at the end.

free day.

i'm taking the day off today! weeeeeeeee! at this time of year, teachers are hanging on by a thin thread. mine is unraveling a little more each day. time for a day of lounging, reading, catching up on some projects, and digging through old photos....




me, Nantucket 1999.------------------>

taking inventory.

i don't have a husband...
i do have a full heart.
endless hours of glorious solitude.
confidence and joy.
no regrets.
i don't have children...
i do have one darling and amazing nephew.
100 new students every year.
a spotless white sofa.
peace and quiet.
i do have all the cookies i want.
laundry for one.
the whole bed to myself.
freedom.
soul sisters.
a great mom.
and enough time to do a lot of good stuff...

hands.

hands.
like a mask cover my face
digging into the earth
clapping in unison
reaching out
twisted in anguish
hidden under aprons
holding other hands
splashing through water
like ash
glistening in brightness
in sand
lost
not letting go
with pens
with pins
stretched toward the gaping sun
empty hands
etched with maps and wisdom and journeys
soft pink and new
kissed
and slapped
in chains
held up
and shaking
gnarled
in fists
in forbidden places
smoothing faces
speaking
urgent hands
and private ones
petal white and deep black
traced
pulling feathers
the first things we touch.

{poem by me; photo unknown}

a great saturday.

making soup

all the hope i've got goes in the pot.
stir it around, the flick of the wrist
mixes the scent of despair out through
the air, riding clouds of steam.
bubble. bubble.
the flame ignites the fading moon,
twisting around the ankles of fate,
pulling it into the concoction...
mashed against the edges with a spoon,
squeezing out all the juices of life,
steeped in longing.
served with desire.

my mom was here for part of the weekend and we had a great time.
last night we had a fabulous dinner and margarita at one of my favorite restaurants here in dallas, mi cocina. today we spent the day looking for treasures at garage sales and this amazing antique store. to top it all off, we had a lunch that knocked our socks off at babe's chicken dinner house. yes, it is as southern and divine as it sounds.

i took the above photo of a shelf in my kitchen. to the left are some beautiful vintage print aprons my mom made for me. i have the best mom in the world!