"Some people hear voices.. Some see invisible people.. Others have no imagination whatsoever." - Author Unknown.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

My Gypsy Heart

In my heart I'm one of those spontaneous  people who would love nothing better than travel around  The European Union.  To be able to live in each country for a year or two. Just long enough to really experience the culture,  like I did in Scotland for just over two years. -But-  due my disabilities I am no longer able to work in the health care field, which is the only work I know.  Because of this I am wretchedly poor, therefore I am now forever grounded in America.  To be perfectly honest I don't mind being poor because I am perfectly suited for a minimalist life in a Gypsy Caravan. It would still  allow me to travel, just not across The Atlantic.  Other than my crafting, jewelry making, sewing and art supplies how much does someone like me really need to be content?

I can see myself  moseying along at a leisurely pace with my dogs. I would be perfectly content to cook beans, rice and bread  on a portable grill or camp fire or even a solar oven.

 I have the 'toilet issue' all figured out. A compost toilet of course.

 I would need just enough power for my Laptop, eReader, MP3 player & cell phone so at least two solar panels would be a must-have.  Solar lamp with LED bulbs could be charged in the windows or outside during the daylight hours to be used at night.

  Isn't this just beautiful?

My Dream Home is a house on wheels.  If you've guessed by now that I have commitment issues you would be correct.  I love the idea of having the freedom of being able to pull up my steps and simply roll away.  It allows me the breathe.  

 Who wouldn't love to have tea at this table?

or this table?

I can see myself tucked in this bed, with my dogs,  under the very afghan that I crochet myself,  reading books, listening to Mozart,  Beethoven, Classic Rock, Folk Songs from a bygone era  or even better,  nature's sympathy of night sounds.

~A most beautiful dream~

If I were 10 years younger, before my back surgeries I would have been able to build one of these myself.
I wish my sons were  just a wee bit more interested in helping me make my flights-of-fancy a reality.
I'm a free spirit who was never really suited to be a wife or a mother.  Oh, I'm not sorry that I had my boys, never was I sorry that I had them.   I'm just saying that I was never meant to live within the confines of convention.  I'm too unsettled and I yearn to take flight. I'm not at rest nor at peace because I feel trapped in a life of which I don't belong.  I feel caged and sometimes panicky, like I can't breathe behind these stationary walls.



Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Lost in Time

Everyone who knows me knows that I have no concept of time. There are still occasions when I will unconsciously  date a check '1989'.

 It's true.

don't ask.

 I can offer no explanation.   It's not like  1989 was a good year or anything like that .

So yesterday  as I am sitting  at my Mac.
From behind me I hear my son say:

 -in his most exasperated tone-

 "Mum!    Really"?!
 I turned around to look at him.   In his cupped  hands are my timers.
He goes on to say:
"Is this really necessary"?
Then he says:
 -in his sarcastic tone-
"Maybe you need to go buy another timer"?

I say: " I have a perfectly logical explanation for that".

He stares at me while waiting for my explanation  with a   -my mother is crazy-    look on his face.

I say:  as I give him my   -how can you not know this?-    look.

"When I am cooking more than one dish at a time I need  a timer for each dish or I will forget that I have something in the oven until sometime next week!"

Without a word, not even a sigh, he turned around and walked back into the kitchen.
I  heard the  ding, ding, ding and ding, as he sat timers back on the counter one at a time.

 I think he's just given up.


Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Growing Old With Dogs

Growing Old With Dogs

When I am old....
I will wear soft gray sweatshirts,
and a bandanna over my silver hair,
and I will spend my social security checks on wine and my dogs.

I will sit in my house on my well-worn chair and listen to my dogs breathing.

I will sneak out in the middle of a warm summer night
and take my dogs for a run,
if my old bones will allow.

When people come to call......
I will smile and nod as I show them my dogs......
and talk of them and about them;
the ones so beloved of the past
and the ones so beloved today.

I will still work hard cleaning after them, mopping and feeding them
and whispering their names in a soft loving way.

I will wear the gleaming sweat on my throat, like a jewel
and I will be an embarrassment to all...especially my family....
who have not yet found the peace in being free
to have dogs as your very best friends.

These friends who will always wait at any hour,
for your footfall....
and eagerly jump to their feet out of a sound sleep,
to greet you as if you are a God.

With warm eyes full of adoring love
and hope that you will always stay,
I'll hug their big strong necks.....
I'll kiss their dear sweet heads......
and whisper in their very special company.

I look in the Mirror...... ..And see I am getting old.

This is the kind of person I am and have always been.

Loving dogs is easy, they are part of me.

Please accept me for who I am.

My dogs appreciate my presence in their lives...
they love my presence in their lives.

When I am old, this will be important to me.

You will understand when you grow old......
if you have dogs to love too.

-Author Unknown

Monday, February 7, 2011

I don't want any therapist wrecking my weirdness.

  1. Nonconforming
  2. Creative
  3. Strongly motivated by curiosity
  4. Idealistic: wants to make the world a better place and the people in it happier
  5. Happily obsessed with one or more hobbyhorses (usually five or six)
  6. Aware from early childhood that he is different
  7. Intelligent
  8. Opinionated and outspoken, convinced that he is right and that the rest of the world is out of step
  9. Noncompetitive, not in need of reassurance or reinforcement from society
  10. Unusual in his eating habits and living arrangements
  11. Not particularly interested in the opinions or company of other people, except in order to persuade them to his – the correct – point of view
  12. Possessed of a mischievous sense of humor
  13. Single
  14. Usually the eldest or an only child
  15. Bad speller 

Nonconformity, extreme curiosity and irreverence for the strictures of culture continually resurface as the most distinguishable eccentric traits , and these are indeed qualities that most of us consider admirable.

   ~They’re permanently non-conforming from a very early age, and there’s a great overlap between eccentric children and gifted children. They develop differently, though.

The eccentrics become very, very creative but they’re motivated primarily by curiosity. They have extreme degrees of curiosity, and they’re very independent-minded.

Their other motivation is fairly idealistic. They want to make the world a better place, and they want to make other people happy.

They have these happy obsessive preoccupations, and a wonderful, unusual sense of humor, and this gives them a significant meaning in life. And they are far healthier than most people because of that.

They have very low stress. They’re not worried about conforming to the rest of society, low stress, high happiness equates with psychological health.

They use their solitude very constructively, and physical health, because of that.
They only visit their doctors perhaps once every eight or nine years, which is about twenty times less than most of us do. (
David Weeks)

“Time and again, the eccentrics in our study clearly evinced that shining sense of positivism and buoyant self-confidence that comes from being comfortable in one’s own skin.”
Dr. David Weeks.


"......Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— 
I took the one less traveled by, 
And that has made all the difference.
~ Robert Frost


Thursday, February 3, 2011

Stones In A Mason Jar

I use to lived in beautiful Scotland with Matthew  my Husband and Soul Mate along with The *Bairns (our dogs) Milo and Hamish McBeth.  My Husband has since passed away and the Bairns have gone to live with people who were already in love with them.  For reasons ( bureaucratic red tape)  too complicated to go into right now I had no choice but to leave my home and the family that I loved.

For several months before leaving my Husband would drive me just down Wellesley Road to Leven Beach. There,  Milo and I would walk along the edge of the water where I collected interesting looking stones that washed in with the tide.  I wanted to bring small bits of Scotland back to America with me.  Those beautiful little stones with their different colors and intricate patterns would allow me to still touch Scotland while being in America.

 I promise  Matthew, and myself that I would return and when I did I would bring the stones back with me and decorate our garden with them.

 I still periodically take  the stones out of the Mason jar and hold them in my hands, in a sense 'touching' Scotland...and remembering.

 I was not able to keep my promise.   I thought I had more time, seems we always think we have more time.   'Time' being a strange, fickled creature, time can work for your or against you.  Time can can heal or kill.  As it turned out, time was up for Matthew & I.  He passed away on October 18, 2008.  Unless there's a miracle it doesn't look as though I ever will get back to Scotland.   With Matthew's passing, I lost my Husband, my friend & Soul Mate, my dogs who were like our children, step sons, a good neighbor & friend that was  my 'rock'.  I my home, a country that I loved....I lost my life, all of my hopes & dreams of our future together.

I am left with  nothing more than bitter sweet memories, regrets, stones in a mason jar, a key that no longer fist the lock to my home and a dog tag.

~And~ 'Time' has not even begun to healed my wounds.

Stones in a Mason Jar

My House key that still hangs on my keychain, it no longer fits the lock of our home.  Now it's just another house that's occupied by strangers.

And Milo's dog tag still hangs on my key chain.

[bairn; Scot. beyrn]
–noun Scot. and North England .
a child; son or daughter.  

'The Bairns' were our two dogs, Milo a Jack Russell and Hamish McBeth, a long haired Chihuahua who joined the family about a year after Milo.


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Wednesday, February 2, 2011

I Heart Mason Jars

Today I went to The Good Life Market to get:

1. Nutritional Yeast Flakes
2. Mustard Powder
3. Agava Syurp

Ingredients  needed to make my Vegan Mac & No-Cheese  (except for the Agava Syrup ).


On my way The Good Life Market, as well as many other destinations I first must drive past The Goodwill Store, nothing unusual about that.

Except today ....
The Goodwill Store, like the Sirens who's irresistible song lores sailers to their deaths was singing to me.

My entire time in the Market was spent obsessing about the Goodwill store.  I couldn't wait to get my stuff, pay and get out..

This particular day the 'freak' was oozing from my pores. With palms sweating and tiny beads of sweat forming on my brow I decided not to take the conventional route to the Goodwill (would take too long) so I turned up a side street then cut through four parking lots to The Goodwill...  and Oh what Joy,  a parking space right up next to the door!  I don't even remember walking to the entrance door...I think I might have even  floated to the entrance....

The day was blistering cold,   I was surprised my sweaty palms didn't freeze to the metal door handle.

I walked in and my head snapped to the left of me as if it had a mind of it's own and my eyes went right to them....

Oh. My. God.

I heard a choir of angles singing....

Right there on the floor sat two boxes of 12 one quart Mason Jars.  That's twenty-four magnificent,  gloriously-gorgeous, perfect-in- every-way Mason Jars.

On the floor!

I'm sure they were waiting for me

Is  that  Barry White I heard singing in the back ground?

No one in this world knows of my love affair, my obsession with Mason Jars.

I scooped up the two boxes, paid the nice lady $5.00 and left.

Being compelled  to go to  the Goodwill a coincidence?

I don't think so....

I am convinced that I possess a  psychic connection to Mason Jars.

It could happen.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.