Translate

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Personality Colors

Do you or don't you agree with your Personality Color. 


I totally know that these two qualities are my personality and I will not argue with it.  I definitely am not any other color. There is only one code of Orange that I am not... I am not adventurous- anymore... though, I used to be pre-children.  What is your personality?

Personality Color Yellow

While you may not exhibit all the character traits of a personality color yellow, if this is your favorite color you will find yourself somewhere in the description. You may also find you exhibit some of the negative traits, particularly when you are stressed.

If Your Favorite Color is Yellow


  • You have a happy disposition and are cheerful and fun to be with.
  • You are creative, often being the one who comes up with new ideas - an ideas person who needs others to bring the ideas into reality - you tend to have your head in the clouds much of the time.
  • With a personality color yellow, you can be very critical of yourself as well as others - you are a perfectionist.
  • You analyze everything, all the time, and are methodical in your thinking.
  • With a yellow personality you are impulsive and make quick decisions, but often, out of anxiety, jump in too quickly and rush things rather than taking things at a steady pace.


  • You have a strong independent streak in you, and are selective with your choice of friends, keeping a small group of close and like-minded friends rather than being involved in team events or large social gatherings.
  • You use your mind to achieve you goals rather than your physical energy.
  • You tend to hide your emotions, putting on a brave face in times of adversity.
  • You are spontaneous - you are able to think quickly on your feet and make instant decisions.
  • You have a modern outlook. New technology doesn't faze you.
  • You communicate well on a mental level with like-minded people, but can become bitter and sharp-tongued if crossed.
  • You are good at networking and getting information out of others. Journalists often resonate with the color yellow.
  • Although you find it easy to make money, you tend to spend it rapidly and unwisely.
  • With a personality color yellow, you can be stubborn but dislike pettiness and spitefulness of all kinds.
  • You like to think you are intelligent and well educated, with knowledge about many topics.
  • You are good at anything that involves the mind, rather than physical pursuits. Chess, crosswords, card games are yellow pursuits.
  • You are a smart dresser and always dress to impress.
  • You can be deceitful and stubborn if living from a negative perspective.
  • You can also be arrogant, pretentious and snobbish.

Personality Color Orange



While you may not exhibit all the character traits for a personality color orange as listed below, if orange is your favorite color you will find yourself somewhere in the description. You may also find you exhibit some of the negative traits, particularly when you are stressed.



If Your Favorite Color is Orange



  • With orange as your favorite color, you are warm, optimistic, extroverted and often flamboyant. You are friendly, good-natured and a generally agreeable person.
  • You are assertive and determined rather than aggressive - having a personality color orange means you are more light-hearted and less intense than those who love red.
  • You thrive on human social contact and social gatherings, bringing all types together.
  • As a personality color orange you enjoy partying and socializing and planning all types of social events - orange people are the life of the party, the uninhibited performer! You are often the loud talker in a group. 
  • While you are charming and sociable you do tend to be a show-off.
  • You get great satisfaction from helping others and they find you inspiring with your vitality and positive energy.
  • You are tolerant and accepting of others just the way they are.
  • You are a people person, motivated by what others may or may not think and always trying to keep up with the Jones'. You need people around you - being alone for too long makes you depressed and you then allow negativity to engulf you.
  • You are a free spirit who doesn't like to be tied down - you are not always loyal in your relationships and find it difficult to commit.
  • You live your life based on your 'gut reactions'.
  • You are an adventurer - you love the outdoor life, camping, climbing mountains and indulging in adventurous sports such as sky diving and hang gliding. You are the daredevil, always looking towards your next challenge, your next great adventure.
  • You enjoy being physically active, particularly in the outdoors, whether it's simply going for a walk, or competing in high level sporting competitions.
  • You are full of life, always on the go, determined and competitive, always looking for new challenges - and this can lead to restlessness and impatience with others who do not have this need.
  • Lovers of orange like to take risks in many areas of their life, particularly in the physical areas. They prefer to explore their outer world rather than their inner world. You may be lousy at housekeeping as it is not that important to you - you love having fun too much and don't like the mundane - a little dust on the mantelpiece is not that important to you. However you love to cook.
  • You move on easily from life's setbacks.
  • Patience is not one of your virtues and you can be quite forceful and domineering over others when under stress.
  • You can be indecisive, inconsistent and unpredictable.
  • You may be an unkind practical joker.
  • When operating from a negative perspective, a personality color orange can become aloof, egotistical, self-centered and uncaring.
  • When feeling fearful, orange lovers feel it in their abdomen, as though it is tied in knots.





Friday, December 06, 2013

Ten Quirky Things You Might Not Know About Me.

1. I am a true yellow personality but I do not like to take risks and have a littlle bit of a red inclination which makes me probably more-- Orange.

2. I believe that every word you say, has a song that corresponds.  That doesn't mean that it will be something that was already written, it might just turn out to be a "Sandi original", that just sounds like it has already been published. You will never question the authenticity of it.

3.  My mind is a twisted and deep well of nonsensical information that I might feel is important.  Just ask my husband.

4. I was born in New York, Long Island but don't have a single word that has a Yankee accent.  But, I can pull off a great impression of a New York'er when I want to.

5.  I have such a soft heart, because of  that tragedy affects me more than most people. 
 photo 7c0218d0-3622-4dbf-9928-49e888cbc4bf.jpg
6.  I am not afraid to approach anyone!

7.  Santa Clause is real.  If you do not believe that I WILL argue with you about it.

8.  There are two views on everything, but MY view is the most important to me. Unless you have a great, creative way of convincing me otherwise. 

9.  I am a dramatic person-- I failed at this when I was younger, had a great director that broke me out of it as a thirty year old.  I love acting, so a lot of what I say will be said too loud and with my hands telling part of the story.

10.  Books are my best friends. Anyone who knows me already knows this, but,you do not know that I  love Memoirs the most.  Maybe that is why writing them is easy for me.







Monday, December 02, 2013

Contemplation




The unseen chirps relayed happiness,
yet, she sits on the worn down stoop
contemplating her existence.

Numbness, ever existing numbness
flows through her veins.  She doesn’t feel the extreme
heat or the kissing of the sun on her forehead.

It’s as if she is a mannequin
exposed to the daily monotony
of unfashionable threads.

Love Bugs flutter in the air.

Too many days she has confined
herself to the four walls of her imagination—

reality is too painful to exist in.

Thursday, November 07, 2013

Bane of my existence Part 2

Dear Bane (no, not Batman's arch enemy)-

I seriously don't know what to do with you! I thought I had already discussed and eradicated you a few years ago, but here you are again back in my domain. How did you find me 2,000 miles away and 5 houses later? Geez, You are persistent. I wish you had come back in your previous state and not in a new body, then you would be easier to deal with since that situation I am the boss of. 
No, you had to come back in an area hard for me to reach and hard for me to convince others that you don't need to exist at all. 

A simple wipe down after each use and bam, you would be controlled and even killed, but no, these people I live with really must like you so much that they are harboring such a cruel fiend like you.



                            



My Microwave. I really, really hate when warming up of a dinner plate the time is set too long to cook and blows up all over the inside. What makes it worse,  is when NO ONE wipes it down and continues to cook in it so the filth is baked on to the walls of that microwave whose ceiling is out of my reach.  

Matt finally cleaned it and yet, some how it is all filthy again 5 days later... You are definitely the bane of my existence once again! 






Tuesday, November 05, 2013

Confident For All

My beautiful girl and her friends went to the pumpkin patch for pictures and this gem caught my eye. She's chatting with her best friend Kristen. 

I love the randomness of the shot. Just like their unlikely friendship. One bubbly and strong the other shy and unsure of her world. 

Watching your children grow from a dependent baby to independent young adult. You become amazed at the journey they have taken to get to where they are. Mckenna is one of the bright spots of my memories and life. She has always been a fantastic dancer, a loving sister, a loving and independent friend. She can sometimes be moody, but what drama queen isn't? She is super mature sometimes to the detriment of others around her because she doesn't tolerate immaturity.  I love her determination and her drive for perfection. She is a great student and leader in her JROTC. She is a loyal friend, knows when to give a smile to someone who needs it and can sympathize when needed. She is special. 

17 years of hugging, holding and caring for her and I am still amazed at not only her outer beauty but her inner beauty. I am so blest to be her mother. 

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Creativity- Emotionally Inspiring or just Hard Work for achieve?

Cristi James
Tender Bliss
Graphic Design
I once wrote a Editor's Dedication for CF's IMPRINTS Magazine:

"Throughout our lives the artist's heart and mind travels through a boundless journey of observation, resulting in various forms of positive and negative memories.  We take these memories and turn them into the heart of our craft-- Imagery.  This heart involves one or more of the five senses: to see, to hear, to taste, to smell, to feel.  If our craft is done well, all of these wonderful senses will stir inside the minds of the reader. They will hear the rain spattering onto vibrant Autumn leaves and smell the cracked, dry earth softening from the moisture.  They will see the air swirl from the flapping of a bird's wings rising in flight from the bounds of a painted canvas. They will feel the heartache of a long-lived marriage dissolve, or the longing of a student experiencing his first crush, crazy about his school teacher.

The journey our staff has taken this past year has led to endless paths of self-discovery.  We have sweated through the trials of losing layouts, and cheered at the joy of completing our very first campus-wide, student-only magazine.  We hope dear reader, that IMPRINTS will provide a respite from the daily travails of your life. Maybe, it will even serve as inspiration to delve into your own heart's journey and find the boundless wisdom held within."

It wasn't something that I struggled with, it was just "inspired".  So, how did it come to fruition?  A love for what I was doing?  Music, a great piece of art, someone else's work, or even a great quote?  Nope, it was the love of Imagery that jumped out from the magazine itself. I don't always do imagery justice. She is a force to be reckoned with, hard to hit, and hard to tie down for me. I don't just see the Schlage worn out silver key; or hear it as it taps against the beaded bracelet intertwined with the key ring as I open the door.  I also feel the smooth steel round top between my fingers as I struggle to get the key into the lock slot (our door is so messed up).  I feel the slight pain of my fist pounding against the handle of the door as I try to get the door to un-stick. It is every step that I see in my mind's eye.

Imagery is not always a great thing though. I mean, sometimes I get so stuck on the details and the adjectives used to describe those details that I lose the reason to write-- to tell a story. 

Narrative Poetry, Memoirs are more my strength. As I write, I tend to do short stories, flash fiction and novels too detailed that I get lost in my own story. The denouement  is without feeling as if I am rushing over it to the conclusion. 

So, how do I go about writing with a purpose and write freely at the same time?  I haven't a clue... I can only imagine it comes from sitting down every day and just putting pencil to paper or fingers to keys and begging my brain synapses to fire up like a faulty shredded electric cord.


I don't get inspired by the classics. Sorry Ernest, you just don't do it for me. It's not about the author or narrative's POV that gets me, it's the life that I live in the story itself. In INKHEART, the fun part is the characters entering into the reader's world. This is not a new form of writing; The movie The PageMaster does the same thing. I have ALWAYS been sucked into the story I am reading. Sometimes I am so deep in that I become one of the characters, just like in INKHEART until I am abruptly jolted out of the story by one of my family members. The Character's personalities and their experiences are what inspire me. 

The same thing goes for creativity in my art, teaching, playing the piano and the guitar. It is all about the emotions that is invoked through my fingers, ears and eyes that ends up inspiring my heart.  I love deep, warm colors and texture. These things have got to be in a piece of art to make my heart skip a beat. Of course, dark colors like grey, black and dark purple will ALWAYS create a chill through my veins. For some reason those colors continually make me think of the Macabre. Yet, interestingly enough, dark red, does not. Go figure! (shoulders raised and lowered in a shrug...)



I'm curious to find out what inspires you to be creative...  (leave comments in my comments.)



*Art Work courtesy of College of Central Florida's Imprints Magazine. 

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Who in your Life is Crazy Talented?



Case opened
tiny hands tenderly
lift the S-shaped instrument.
tucked under her chin,

bow set on strings,
a soothing melody
reverberates through
the antique wood.

Eyes closed,
body swaying,
my mind
is enthralled.

Her talent
not in her hands
but in her loving,
friendly manner,

affects all
walks of life.

She is my little sister.








Social Media-- Is it real or is it Memorex?



Social Media— 
we all use it. We talk to our friends from High School, college, work and the old neighborhood. We read their posts on what they are doing during their day; the fun adventures they are experiencing during their vacations. We see pictures of their kids whom we have never met or the ones we last saw when they were toddlers and we act as if they are the closest friends in the world and gush over those sweet little faces. I mean, don’t you feel that they are sitting next to you chatting over hot cocoa and buttered Rye bread because that’s all you have in the house?

Do we ever acknowledge the disillusion of Social Media? We look at our friends witty posts and we decide we could never be that funny. We see the beautiful couples with their super clean kids and we think that we are the ones that have the messed up families. What we don’t understand is that everyone has a messed up family we just choose to gloss over the unhappy to make everything seem peachy keen. 

If we were living realistically shouldn’t we see posts such as:

Monday Morning: Today sucks, the dog crapped all over the brand new rug. Child #5 just puked all over the dog and my gagging reflux is kicking in. I hate being a mom!!! 

Tuesday Afternoon:  I am broke, how in the world am I going to pay the bills?  My house is underwater, the paint is chipping and my dead beat husband is sleeping on the couch fulfilling his potential. Why I am still married to him?

Saturday Evening: Here I sit eating a gallon of Mexican Chocolate ice cream by myself. When am I ever going to find the person of my dreams? Could it be because I am in my pajamas all day long and hate the way I look? Who in the world is going to want this?  (Then a real picture of themselves.)

Would we ever really see these type of posts?  Well, maybe if it was written tongue-in-cheek. But never the whole honest-to-goodness truth.  What does this do to our self-esteem?

I know that I spend too much time on Social Media and I get depressed thinking that I am not half the person that I want to be or how my friends are. This is the negative part of Social Media. We compare ourselves to each other, we feel that we could be so much happier living in the big city (or the small city like Gilmore Girl’s Sand Hollow,) or having a certain career.
We look at others and are quick to judge them just by a picture. We make wild accusations when they write a post that is truthful; we never typing what we are thinking, we just “think” them out loud in your own house. 

Seriously, I overheard a conversation at the college library one day about someone who has gained weight and how much their lives must stink because of it. Okay… talk about shallow.
There are other times though where I am so thankful for social medial. When I find a long lost friend, or talk to family whom I might not have a phone number for. I know that doesn’t mean we are “best” friends, but it is nice to reconnect. 

Social media can be uplifting and therapeutic— One day after we moved from Santa Clara, I was super sad. I was missing Devin and my friends in Utah and as such gave a little cryptic woe-is-me type post. Low and behold, not only did a good Utah friend catch my mood, so did one of my newly acquired friends. I cannot tell you how much the new friend showing up at my door with a plate full of cookies meant for me and we talked for hours. (She knows who she is…)

Social Media can be educational— we find groups that have the same driving ambition as we do. They encourage, support and give great ideas on how you can be a better writer, artist, sister, friend, wife, child or parent. One of the best pages on Facebook that I have found is a page called Humans of New York.  Brandon, a photographer, goes throughout New York and talks to the average Joe Schmoe, and connects with them just enough to ask them one pertinent question, such as: what would you tell a large group of people? Amazingly enough, those (as most tag them, not me… I’m a New Yorker by birth,) tough, unfriendly New Yorkers will talk to him. It’s usually a few sentences but what they give is deep and touching.

Do we act different when we are online than when we are sitting at the dinner table with our family?  You bet we do!  It is kind of like having your own family and then going to your parent’s house and sinking back to your childhood self.  Why do we do this? I feel it is because we have a certain respect of our parents that makes up not want to disappoint them by talking back in case you hurt their feelings.  When we are at our dinner tables we are our natural self (one would hope,) on Social Media as I said before we fear letting people see our weaknesses because we want our old HS friends to know we are not the same awkward, geeky, brace-faced person or that our super cool, hot looks have diminished and we are a faded version of the red rose we used to be.

Let’s be honest, how many of your friends have a “thinner” versions of their real-self as their profile pic?  We want to be seen as our best-self. I know I have done that before.  Haven’t you?
I guess overall Social Media can be considered whatever you make it. 

How do you feel about Social Media? Which is your favorite platform?



Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Florida College System Publication Association’s 54th Annual Awards Banquet

It's been odd not being part of CF's Imprints this semester. The only highlight is that I get to attend the Awards Banquet to see how the magazine does this year. My worry is that we won't place in anything or place low and not to the usual standard of 1st or 2nd place.  As the 2013 editor, it all rides on my shoulders even though, I have to remember that things are not always what we want to put out. As my editor dedication stated. We went through losing our layout and cramming it all in 4 days to publish it. This makes me a nervous Nelly, my editor's hat wasn't on for more than 1 hour at the end... I think that really sucks. WE will see what happens.

IMPRINTS magazine placed in 2 categories:

Poem
Judge: Lester Goran
Division A
First Place: Richard Lee (“A Lonely Scarecrow”), Howl! (Spring Term), Florida Gateway College Judge's Comments: “A poignant depiction of a strong sense of loss told from an unusual vantage.”
Second Place: Jessyca Thibault (“A Black Hole”), Imprints, College of Central Florida Ocala Campus Third Place (Tie): Bruno Leite (“Excitement, Intelligence, and Denial”), Aeolus, Daytona State College Third Place (Tie): Neylin Castrillo (“Marks”), CafĂ© Cultura, Miami Dade College Hialeah Campus
Division B
First Place: Jankarlo Gonzalez (“Jonny B.”), Phoenix, Valencia College
Judge's Comments:
“This is a nice recapturing in form and content of an earlier time.”
Second Place: Jerron Feaster (Page 23), Metromorphosis, Miami Dade College Wolfson Campus Third 
Place: Bryan Aguilar (Sonnet to a Kiss”), Miambiance, Miami Dade College Kendall Campus 


Two-Page Spread
Division A
First Place: Kelci Elliot, Robert Gaskill (Pages 18-19), Mobius, Pasco-Hernando Community College Judge's Comments: “Powerful art and text combine to create a unified feel. Good work.”
Second Place: Lawrence Grimm, Jessica Keith, John Picione (p. 70-71), Aeolus, Daytona State College Third Place: Sandra Brower, Ashley Kinney (Pages52-53), Imprints, College of Central Florida Ocala Campus
Division B
First Place: Heather Vazquez (Pages 50-51),
Phoenix, Valencia College
Judge's Comments:
“Nice connection with the verbal and the visual; graphics and design help unite the magazine, especially this spread.
Second Place: Chelsea Fernandez, Claudia Gonzalez (Pages 22-23), Axis, Miami Dade College North Campus Third Place: Nick Griesbach, Giannina Valles (Pages 46-47), Triad, Hillsborough Community College 


Well, lookie here:  one of those awards is for one of my submissions!  I was so excited and pleasantly surprised. I guess that the 4 day hectic, crazy madness wasn't all in vain even though it didn't win as many awards as last year. 

Here is the poem that went with that submission:  


Sea, Sand and Love

The waves hit the flattened tan shore
like dolloped whip cream on a pie.
She was soothed by its sounds,
In her heart she screamed for warmth
instead of the icy coldness
penetrating through her soul.

He walked ten feet in front of her.
How was she supposed to break
through the brick wall
he had erected around himself?
She walked quickly, grabbed his hand
Then was rejected. 

Instead of working through it
she focused on a sandpiper
skittering along the water’s edge;
it’s needle-pointed beak jabbed
at the sand for food.
reminiscent of the words
that had come out of his mouth
not more than 15 minutes ago.

She lets it all float away out of her heart
like the water carrying shells and sea plants
back out into the surf.
Skipping along the foam
she wished he’d take off
his sneakers
join in the fun­­­,
he was such a stick in the mud
never thinking to join her.

This is her life, the tide of happiness
receding in and out
against the soft or rough sands
disappearing in the blink of an eye.



and the picture was of a churning brown sea... Yeah, it presented the feelings the gal in the poem was going through. 



The activity that I miss the most not being on the IMPRINTS staff is working with the Student Body Activities Board. I guess, when I get back on campus in January, I will have to join a club and ask to be the rep for said club or apply to be on the board. I wonder who I contact for that.  (Ah, a mystery... I love solving mysteries.)





Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Delicacies of Life



This little ditty was found in my drafts amongst the previous winter's posts. How did I not post this? Well, I guess it's better late than never as they say (who is they, anyway?).

It wafts through the air and into my brain,
Like the licks of it's flame I can see it.
Red, blue, green, purple and pink 
chairs unfolded.

Light shines down on us from the
Great harvest moon.

We stick our marshmallow rods into it's warmth,
smashing them on graham squares
smothered with Hershey's chocolate.
Mallow and cocoa
melt out the corners of our mouths. 

Pwhew- pwhew- pwhew.

It's orange swirls
darkens gooey whiteness to black.
"Oh, thats too bad now it's burnt too much to eat sweetie,"
is heard around the circle.
A tiny blonde Imp pops the burnt fluff into her mouth.
"It's the way I like it," she croons.

Crackling, popping, spitting
it clouds our eyes.
Every once in a while someone moves to an empty seat 
as if we are playing
Musical chairs. 

Silence--
The content noise of happy people.

Alone- 
seated besides a rippling Florida pool
It's unseen fragrance transports me 
to my daughter's first camping trip.

Photo source: SXC









Monday, October 07, 2013

In Towns Gone By

I think I need to hop a train and head off exploring again. My wanderlust is calling.



A visual prompt while journeying from D.C. to NYC via Amtrak.


In Towns Gone By

Blasting past town, the silver bullet rail
rains dry dust on small weeded lots
filled with tousled grey boarded homes.

Sitting in crumbling rocking chairs 
blue/white-haired ladies
fumble hooked crochet sticks in and out
of their last row of muddy brown yarn
Slightly resembling a sweater.

Intermingled amongst the women 
are a few broken down, doddering
old men snoozing- 
dreaming of days gone by

Impatiently the women's hands move up, 
down, 
hook here, loop through and pull,
wondering when their 
young folk will be arriving home.

The air is stagnant as if life 
has exhaled it's last breath.
Like a breeze, 
the sound of whistling proceeds
weary men shuffling through the streets
joyfully anticipating a meek 
dinner prepared by their wives.

Cries of hello and see ya later 
fill the air as the young men step onto  
chipped stoops. Like a carefully choreographed dance
dirty children burst out of different doors
And run into stiff arms smothering wet
kisses onto the necks of their fathers.

Wiggling free, the men sit
leaning back into moldy chairs
and talk to the old folks.
Others enter their homes
all are waiting 
—for dinner.

Wives hugged and dinner
devoured families spill back 
on the porch.

The witching hour has approached
that time when brains vacation,
bodies melt comfortably in the cooling shade
and all is right with the world.

Too bad the devil's work 
will start all over in the morning.



Monday, September 30, 2013

Fraternizing Friday: Wednesday, Why Are You So Sad?

Wednesday, oh Wednesday,
why are you so sad?
What makes you, the middle day,
the worst we've ever had?

We love Friday, Saturday and Sunday
We despise Monday,
But, Wednesday you become so blah,
that we are ready to nod.

I want to love you, I really do,
I'm just not sure how to go through
the steps of learning to revitalize,
when will we all realize
that you are just another day
like Tuesday and Thursday?




Wednesday, September 25, 2013

22 Lists Project: Week 8




What Albums have touched you? These are a FEW of my favorites...



22 Lists Project: Week 7

This list was a little hard to come up with. So many personal items, I didn't really want to list for public consumption. So, here is the "less personal" list.
 I'm playing catch up...






Friday, September 20, 2013

Fraternizing Fridays: I Want to be a Cowboy.

She grabs on to his shoulders, jumps up, and snuggles into the back of his neck. He walks down the pine needle strewn path towards the concrete winding half pipe slide. She isn't sure if she really should have asked for a piggy back ride. He hadn't refused, so that was a good sign.  The silence is awkward and it's killing her to have nothing to talk about. She wonders what he is thinking. He doesn't talk much; he's a great listener. This makes him even more handsome, than just his chisel- jawed face; his thick-blond hair; and his tall, muscular frame.

To fill the silence she starts looking around for something to talk to him about. She sees a crowd of cowboys standing in line in front of them. She starts laughing uncontrollably. For some reason she thinks it's hilarious ~ a crowd of cowboys waiting in line for the thrill of riding down an alpine slide. It isn't like they are in Florida and cowboys are rare, they are in the mountains, in Utah. 

So, why is it so funny?

Her jovial attitude adds to the frustration of the silence. He doesn't laugh with her when she whispers about them in his ear. She sighs, and tries again to bring a smile to his face. This time by singing.  She always ends up doing that when she is feeling uncomfortable with a situation.  At the top of her lungs she sings, "I want to be a cow[girl]boy, and you can be my cow[boy]girl."  

All the cowboys turn around and stare at her. Then, they look at him, the guy that is giving her the piggyback ride. The one that they think should be controlling his girl. He glances up at her appalled by her brassy, loudness.  He has never met a girl like this before and he doesn't know what to do with her sometimes. He doesn't know what to say to her. He is scared she will realize he isn't as exciting as she thinks he is. 

She slides off his back and stands next to him silently... 

Have you ever had such a day as the one described above? 
This happens to be the most embarrassing moment of MY life. 

What makes it worse is the fact that it is also Matt and I's first date. What an impression I must of made. Me, the first girl he EVER asked out in HIS life. I have to say though, the date was a good one. We rode the Alpine Slide in Park City and then drove down the canyon to Sugar House Park for dinner at dusk.  

I still can't believe that he continued to date me...







22 Lists Project: Week #6






Friday, September 06, 2013

Fraternizing Friday's What is your Most Prized Possession? Simple. My Memories: Fireflies and Pattering of little Feet.

I usually start my day looking at my email and always head straight to my Everyday Poems daily mail from Tweetspeak Poetry.  

At the bottom of the daily poem was a link to Artist Date: Clover by Laura Boggess of Wellspring. Anything I've read by Laura has been an educationally inspired read on creating imagery and other forms of good writing. 

So, off I went, sinking into this piece which illustrated, "How to Become a Better Writer".

The writing was gorgeous. The description of the fireflies made me stop... 
"I spy a wink to my right and reach out a hand to cup the warm glow. But this winged luminescence escapes, disappearing into the thick dark. Only now, my eyes are open wide and I see each bush on fire with twinkling conversation. I stand in wonder, lingering."

“But this winged luminescence escapes, disappearing into the thick dark.”
This last line, reached into my soul. Memories of my little ones catching and accidentally releasing these dynamic beings at our Georgia home floated to the surface of my mind.


My children are all 3 years apart. 

When Devin was 7, Kyler was 4 and Mckenna was 1 years old, we lived in Sharpsburg, Georgia, on a sprawling piece of land surrounded by our Landlord's home. On the other side of us was their ancestral "family" home. 
Mr. Landlord's childhood home and his brothers' homes were located on the other side of his side yard. The entire property consisted of 500 acres of fields and woods. Perfect for children to learn to work, explore, and dream.

We had a plot of garden. We ambitiously planted varieties of what we hoped to be delicious food for our little family. We decided we loved corn the most; so we tilled four rows producing dozens of stalks of corn per row. Then we tilled two rows of Green beans, Peas, Zucchini and Carrots, finishing up our plot with four Potato mounds (red and white,) and two Pumpkin mounds. 

Weeks went by. We watched the tiny seeds grow into delicate plants.

Each child had a row that they were responsible for watering. This was either done with the hose or in the corn's case with a large bucket since the hose couldn't reach that far back in the yard. (did I mention that the back yard was a half acre? Yeah, it was big!)

Devin, being the eldest, was responsible for the corn. Kyler, who loved corn the most, reminded Devin when it needed to be watered. In his little mind, he knew he wouldn't have the sweet, pale yellow kernels if his brother failed at his job and so he nagged Devin endlessly. 

We would take the kids out at dusk to tend our ambitious garden. This was magic hour; wildlife noises, the sweetness of the cooling air and the laughter that came from working together was the diamond in our lives. 

Mckenna, with her tiny french braid, would help for a quick minute and then wander off to play in her Little Tyke car driving her well-loved Lambie around in circles on the soft grass. Her little painted piggies pushing the car along. She was always decked out in a new dress that she picked out each morning from her closet. Such a little fashionista, this one year old. We didn't care that she was getting her dress dirty while pulling weeds in the garden. She had a million others waiting for her to choose from the next day.

Kyler was always the one that tried to get out of the work; he wasn't being lazy, he just had better things to do. He wanted to dig in the dirt, building roads and trails for he and Devin's cars and trucks. So, he'd grudgingly pull his row of weeds and usually "baby Kenna's" (as he was apt to call her,) inch of Pumpkin mounds. We never knew why he was so willing to do her work, but so determined not to do his own. I guess he just loved her that much. 
After, he would merrily go on his way to the fun stuff. He loved the solitude of dusk where he knew no one could really see him playing. That was just his personality (and is to this day.)

Devin, the ever dutiful son, would pull his weeds, water his rows, and make sure that everyone else completed their tasks until he felt comfortable going off to play. If Matt and I were still working (okay, I would wander off, head back to help and wander off again to snap a picture or two of the younger kids playing...) then Devin would also continued to work. 

One evening, while Devin was working, he kept stopping and would just gaze off into the forest. I thought maybe he was afraid something wild was out in the shadows because he started jumping up and down stumbling on his words. I ran over to see what he was so excited about and he just pointed. There in the trees the "winged luminescence." teased our little guy into confusion. Our kids had lived in Florida months before. They had not seen shining flashlight-type bugs. Devin was over-the-moon excited for his discovery.

Running in the house, I grabbed mason jars, poked holes in the lids, and headed back out to the yard. I told the kids that we were going to have a little fun trying to catch the "Flashlight bugs" as Kyler called them. Kyler thought they needed food and somewhere to sleep so he had Devin help him find twigs and pull grass blades from the lawn for the "flashlight bugs" to snack on. What a sweet caring little kid my middle one was. 

Then they were off. 

Dashing in and out of the darkness, hands grasping for the untouchable bugs. Kyler said, they were too slippery. Devin said, they were just too fast. Kenna just sat in her car watching. We asked Matt to step in and help. Eventually he caught one. With his cupped hand he placed the now dark bug into one of the jars and hastily put on the lid. A flick and it was like a lighter had lite up the bug's behind. The kids were enthralled. It was their turn to catch those tricky bugs! 

For what seemed like hours and way beyond the kid's bedtime, they dodged here and there trying to catch "flashlight bugs". After all four jars were finally filled with snapping shots of light, the soft pattering of their feet slowed down to almost a standstill. They were beat. 

Heads on shoulders, arms clasped around necks; Matt and I carried our little crew into their rooms and snuggled them into their covers. The boys fell asleep heads hitting the pillow. Kenna needed her puppy light. Eventually that bedtime ritual was complete. One last glass of water was begged for before she settled into slumberland.

Exhausted, Matt and I settled on the front porch relishing in the final flashes of nighttime. Relishing in the moments we had just made with our kids. 

Today, I yearn for small arms curled around my neck and pattering feet. All because I read Laura Boggess's beautiful imagery of Fireflies and Clover.

It's funny how good writing can do that. 





Wednesday, September 04, 2013

St. Elmo's Fire And The Wheels It Turned

When I was a teenager, I would start each school year with a new inspirational song. My first year at Cottonwood High School I chose the movie St. Elmo's Fire soundtrack main theme, entitled, "Man In Motion". I had, had such a rotten few years at Bonneville Jr. High that I was ready to move on from being teased and picked on all the time for my teeth and bike (see entries: Teachers That Have Influenced My Life and Dear 16 Year Old Self for deeper understanding).  I knew from the way the lyrics touched me that this song meant I could create something new for the life that I was wanting to live.

 Yesterday, I was listening to XM Radio's 80's on 8. Martha Quinn (of MTV deejay fame), told us listeners, that the St. Elmo's Fire theme lyrics were not really written for the movie, but were really written about a man named Rick Hansen who had sustained a Spinal Injury when he was 15.
I had never heard the story before, so today I decided to research a little bit more about Rick. What an amazing song for an amazing man. I am going to let John Parr, the man who wrote the Lyrics, introduce you to Rick's story.