My gut reaction is to answer “Daytime”, but it feels like I’m being played, here!
Like one of those pull my finger sort of jokes, or something. If I were to fall for such an obvious trick, it would be all over WordPress Daily news, which is right down the block from The Lobby.
I’d be too embarrassed to show my face out in the street, what with Oscar the Grouch’s garbage can perfectly placed right on the corner. You know, he can be very rude sometimes! On any given day, one might find him entertaining himself by reading the daily newspaper out loud, from his can. I know it doesn’t sound so rude, at first, but let me finish. Oscar doesn’t simply read the articles… no no. He shouts the words as loud as he can, and does so in the direction of whoever walks by his garbage can. See? Very rude, in my opinion.
While I do prefer the quiet of the morning, I’m not going to answer, on the grounds that it may incriminate me, somehow.
What I will do, however, is make a double batch of cookies for everyone, to make up for the ones I forgot the other day. Though you may not think it a big deal, I have a reputation to uphold. In the words of Captain Barbosa, “Don’t dare impugn me honor boy!”
May these cookies served to you, here, this morning, fulfill my duty to me ship, me WordPress family, and me crew!
Double fudge chocolate…
or,
Ok, so maybe these one’s are more like cupcakes. Fine! They’re actual cupcakes, so what? But I should still get credit, what with all the work I put into baking them for you. And, two is still two, right?!
As the old adage states, if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it! Since last year’s response to this question hasn’t changed, I’ve opted to pull it up from the archives. Have a blessed day!
While I often write of my desire to do good for those around me, I feel fairly confident that I’ve also mentioned how much I desire to go home. No, this isn’t a cry for help, so relax! I’m speaking of my heavenly home, that’s all. I haven’t felt apart of this world for so long, it’s become rather easy not to dream of things of this life… only that which is to come!
If I sat here all day, thinking on all the empty hours and solitude that I exist within, I guarantee you that there would be no peace available to partake in.
This world is vicious, selfish, petty, cruel, and vindictive! If I only focus on the backbiting, slanderous and nefarious villains loitering on every corner… again, I’d have no peace!
If I wasted all my time dwelling on every mistake, failure and sin that I’ve ever committed… also, no peace!
I’m simply being wholeheartedly honest, in regards to the prompt. I really really do want to go home! I’m tired! I exhausted myself with wasted efforts at being a friend, sister, mother and all around good person, and I was far too tired to have any amount of peace! Trust me… I’ve tried all that!
Now, I’m following God wherever He leads! I know my heavenly home will be there, ready to receive me when I’ve fulfilled whatever purpose I was born to do. No, I don’t really have a clear picture what that purpose is, but as I remain in the word and dwell constantly beneath the shadow of my Father… He is what brings me peace!
I woke up, got out of bed, and started heating water for my morning tea.
I took meds for my stomach, climbed into the shower, and proceeded to cry my eyes out in prayer for about 20 minutes.
Spent time in the word while drinking my peppermint tea, still crying.
After a time, the crying subsided, to be replaced with a comforting peace.
My daughter texted me last night to say that she’d be getting married in several weeks and that her father and his wife would be with them. She offered for us to go and get our nails done or something, just she and I.
I try not to think about how much it hurt when she asked me if I would babysit her dogs when she goes into labor.
I haven’t said anything to my kids about my hospital visit, nor my other procedures. None of them know that the suburban and all our things are gone. None of them know that the Edge was towed and then taken from us, as we had no money to pay for the tow. I’ve said nothing about our having not a dime to our name, nor the gas to even drive the one truck over to visit. None of them have come to see the apartment. I am relieved that they don’t, truth be told. We’ve still no clothes, no cleaning supplies, toiletries… basically, anything that food stamps won’t cover, we don’t buy.
I don’t say anything, because they prefer it that way! Everyone prefers it that way! Nobody really wants to watch the car wreck that I call my life, longer than they have to… everyone has life problems, I was told, so it’s not always about me!
It’s only 9:43 in the morning so there’s not much else to write about whether or not my day was typical… I got hours left!
But ya, it’ll probably be typical… it has been, thus far!
As we all know, I don’t do well with short answers… in honesty, they are no fun!
My memory pulls me back to my childhood, to a time when my Nana was alive. Nana was the only one to ever call me Antonia, most likely in protest over my parents laziness when I was born a girl. They expected a boy when they chose Toni Rae, but got me instead, and just stuck with the same name. But alas, this memory is too far back, nor was that name technically a nickname, so I will move ahead in time…
My children were sleeping, as well as my ex husband, so what does an overworked and underpaid mom do for fun, I took it upon myself to have a couple glasses of wine. The house was quiet, and I had the office to myself, so off I went to the World Wide Web. Alcohol does funny things to a person…
There I was, at two in the morning, heavily under the influence… don’t judge… Alcohol gives confidence and courage, but not always wise choices, so consider us all lucky that this is the only thing I got up to in the middle of the night!
So anyway, as I was perusing the internet, I came up with this hairbrained idea, to find a really cool game handle. I loved video games, especially the mmorpg ones, and everyone had awesome names for their in-game characters, or toons. I was in search of The One, if you will, game name wise…
Stumbling upon those name generating search engines, I began to look for a Native American word or name, that I could assign myself since nobody else ever wanted to do. Yes I think I am maybe Native American, and no, I did not make any valid name choice for this girl from the wilderness. Remember, wine was involved, so I make no valid claim to the name I settled on. I finally found a site that was pretty cool, in that it gave really decent explanations for the meaning and spelling/pronunciation. I came to this…
WIWOHKA – roaring, raging water…
In honesty, I cannot remember the rest of the definition, and highly doubt that it would do me any good now. For whatever the reason, the name stuck, and I have used it now for over 20 years…
Funny thing, my husband and I looked the name up once, and aside from the definition not being there anymore, we did discover a long lost Indian Tribe located somewhere near the great lakes, and they were called the Wiwohka Tribe… I can aspire!
Don’t pop my bubble by saying I am full of it… I know that I am, but where is the fun in having a really cool nickname, if there was not an amazing story behind it… I am proud of my name, even it only means that I talk a lot, and am such a cry baby that everybody gets wet when I am around! At least, maybe, you will remember me from either laughing or crying…
There wasn’t any point in trying to re-answer this prompt, as my memory hasn’t changed, nor have any of the character’s in my story about that first crush. Instead, I went and pulled my original prompt answer up and set to work, touching up the edges… and adding cookies, of course!
Ok, so maybe this is more about the shoes than the boy, but still…
His Name was Louie and we went to school together, but I’m not certain how old we all were… maybe 5th or 6th grade?
He used to sit on the steps in front of our school during lunch break, every day. There was a group of boys who always congregated around him, fully inflating his ego, maybe. I would wander over to where they sat nearly every day, hoping he’d look my way. In my silly mind, I was sure that he liked me by the way he always smiled and laughed at what I thought was funny. In reality, it was probably him just being kind, as I think he must have been a nice kid.
One particular afternoon, I had worn my new Cherokee Wedge high heeled shoes just to look especially pretty. They were really just giant floor level erasers, I am certain of it!
Anyway, as soon as the class bell rang, I was up and off to freshen myself up in the girls lavatory. Feeling like a model, I began my promenade down the corridor toward the school’s courtyard. Out the doors and down the steps I sashayed, coming to stand near the group of boys that always crowded around Louie.
Now my friends had been teasing me earlier that week, regarding my view of how he must feel about me. They all said I was just making it up. I was intent on showing them all!
I started up my usual flirty convo, laying on the demure smiles and light giggles that were supposed to be what you did to get a man. What happened next must go into a play by play of sorts, or a back and forth screenshot for your brain…
*I teased him about something, and to this day, I have no idea what it was…
*He made the gesture as if to pursue me, maybe to tickle or pick me up in his arms to circle me around in the air for the world to see his true love for me, showing all those girls a thing or two… wait… ok, maybe that was my thoughts, but all he did was lean forward with a smile on his face… I know Right? God bless my imagination!
*I turned around, thinking him to be in pursuit, and proceeded to run across the entire front courtyard of our school, just like Julie Andrews did in the Sound of Music. The only differences were, for starters, I was wearing those ridiculous eraser shoes. And, the other key thing to remember is that he was NOT following me! I thought he was, but never looked back to confirm.
*When I got to the other end of the yard, I turned to realize what had actually been the scene…
No one following me… me running like a Robin Williams version of Julie Andrews… the majority of my classmates rolling on the grass laughing… and to my horror, ALL the boys on the steps hooting and hollering to join the choir!
We were all so young, and it might seem as a bad memory, but it one of the funniest things I remember doing, and you know what, I think that nice boy really did like me. I actually remember him laughing with the others but he didn’t look like he wanted to. Honestly, I think he felt bad for me…
Kids say and do some of the funniest things, and I am forever grateful for all of my youthful funnies, as I am sure that you are as well. I was and am a pretty funny person! Not because I am a great mixer of words and jokes, but because I can laugh at myself without being judgy, and I love to tell others about something I did that I thought was really silly or funny, and they get to laugh with me, not at me. There is a difference!
One of my favorite songs about babies has to be from Lady and the Tramp, when Lady first meets the new baby. Put an adorable dog together with a baby and a tender song and what do you get? I get all emotional and start crying!
So it seems that it is fitting and right that I start your Monday off with the sniffles… but in a good way, of course!
Guess what?
It’s a girl!
Well, she’s here but not ready to come out of hiding just yet. That’ll be on or near November 25th. It makes me smile whenever I think on that date since my daughter’s birthday is the 18th. Wouldn’t it be the funniest thing if she is born on my daughter’s actual birthday day?!
They’ve still not quite settled on her name, at the moment, and neither have I. NO, I don’t get to name her! But, what I do get to do that nobody else can is to give her a special Meemaw name, just like I’ve done for all my other grandbabies.
Let’s see, there’s my first grandson “Peanut”, then my little Peach, my pinecone, and Little Man. Following them is my Chipmunk and our little Firefly, too. That makes five in all, so far. I’m also a Godmother to a very special Peapod.
Why the namesakes? Simple terms of endearment left with each of them for their memories… and, let’s be honest here… my memories, too!
It’s funny that I started doing this all the way back when my girls were born. My girls would never forgive me if I stopped referring to them by their personal nicknames, no joke!
I guess it never occurred to me how important it was for them, til a few weeks ago. I was sitting with my oldest grandson and talking about when he was smaller. I thought to apologize to him for always calling him Peanut when he was little, as he always made a fuss at me for doing it.
When I said that I was sorry, my grandson stopped what he was playing on the computer, looked at me funny for a moment, and then said, “why are you sorry?” I told him that I thought it bothered him, but he just smiled and shook his head in disagreement.
Apparently, he would like me to continue calling him Peanut… I’ve been given the all clear!
Ever since that conversation I’ve not stopped thinking about the importance of those little things, those tiny details. Often we find ourselves getting so caught up in doing the big things, we lose sight of what’s possible in a tiny, tiny thing…
All big things begin small, right?!
So, now that you’ve been given way more information than you probably needed for this next part… it’s time we think on a very special name for our newest family member. Yes, I said we! Don’t you want to help me think up an adorable new nickname for my soon-to-arrive granddaughter? Give it some thought if you would and then let me know in the comments. If we all put our heads together I know we can come up with something really adorable.
Anyway, I hope everyone has a wonderful Monday … hugs
I think that dreams say a great deal about who we are… on the inside. Before you start preparing for some kind of mental health episode of some sort, I’ll leave that to the professionals, thank you very much! My thoughts and considerations will be looking at our character, our personality, or we can label as our true self, if you will. As I always tend to do, let me explain what I meant by my initial statement.
First off, I want to break dreaming into two categories here, one being a waking daydream, while the other is a sleeping dream. Waking daydreams are the ones in which we control the dream in its entirety. Obviously, the sleeping dreams are when we’re not awake, therefore we have no conscious control of what goes on in our dream, nor any control of the outcome… we just gotta ride it out, so to speak.
When I write these thoughts out, I’ve no intention of trying to figure others out, based on their dreams! I guess I’m writing out something that I’ve discovered about my own personality and tendencies, that’s all. Some say that they don’t really dream much, while others dream often and deeply… people like me.
Being a child from trauma, I sought fantasies and daydreams from a very early age, as a way of safety or escape, if you will. To this day, I can vividly remember things from those years, most especially the dreams and recurring nightmares that I experienced. Weird, right?!
Anyway, I had one of my re-run daydreams from when I was small, just the other day. As I was thinking on the memory of my dream, I noticed something sort of funny about myself, or, the way that I saw myself in the daydream. It made me want to look back through some of the other dreams, just to see if I did that in all of them. Guess what I discovered? I did, in fact, see myself in a particular way, when it was a sleeping dream and another way when it was a daydream… just two starring roles… two!
In every waking dream that I created, I cast myself as the assistant, the helper, the heroin through heavy lifting! I was either Charlie instead of Willie Wonka, or the Mad Hatter instead of Alice, or the child who helped Dr. Doolittle. Even to this day, I never see myself as the heroin or hero in anything… always, always, always, I dream myself behind the scenes. In my stories, it feels better to focus on my desires for the cast members in the tale. I think that’s why I prefer you to see me through Tilly, Eustace, or any of this site’s characters when I write. They seem to capture who I am, there within the pages of their stories.
The sleeping dreams are a far different representation of how I saw myself back then, and even now, today. That little girl only experienced the nightmare portion of the dreams, for many, many years. I was a frequent bed wetter, and struggled with severe anxiety. I had no one to talk to, no one to comfort or rescue me from my hell. I’m sure that this is why my waking dreams were so intense and real to me. I even learned how to wake myself out of my night terrors. I actually began to flip myself from my bed and onto the floor, so as to force myself awake. That child was always running, fighting and/or in pain during those dreams. Over the years, I changed in appearance as I grew into a woman, wife, and mother, but I still continued to be the victim… or the villain. Yes, I even saw myself become the villain, but what could I do? I had no control, there in the depths of my darkness.
Ok, no more of that part, as it’s not who I am now! Now? God holds my dreams in the palm of his hand, shielding and comforting me through anything I may experience during my sleep, which is now rarely more than a goofy recap of what I’d watched on television the night before. It’s funny, because the transformation within this wild child has been miraculous, to say the least!
Waking daydreams are now filled with a purpose, not my own, but of one who is so much greater!
Night dreaming is no longer a place of fear, but of peace, protection, and security!
I’ll not forget the child of my past, no no, as she is the one who survived!
I’ll not forget the lost wild one, for she is full of fiery spirit, and tenacity!
While I may not ever be a hero of anything special, Charlie did end up with the factory, so that children would hold onto their dreams!
That child who followed Dr. Doolittle… they carried on the doctor’s work to care for others, whether it was a Push-Me-Pull-Me or the captive sea lion… always the less fortunate!
What do I daydream about now? I dream that everywhere I go… I smell like cookie dough, pulling children’s imaginations along with me, just like the pied piper! For all the rest of you… I pray that I leave a trail of cookie crumbs in my wake… get it, wake… hehehe!
From the moment of our birth, the race to find and become who we believe the world sees suddenly starts with a bang! Groomed from birth on how to speak, what to wear, how to behave, how to please others, and on and on and on we go, sort of like a merry-go-round…
I’ve spent my entire life trying to appear as that which others expect and/or accept, as if I were on one of those merry-go-rounds. Spinning round and round over the years, gaining speed until I became frozen to the bars and unable to get off, followed by a great deal of motion sickness.
Well, finally the ride became so fast that it flung me off into the dirt, so to speak!
If you wondering what on earth an old merry-g0-round ride has to do with one’s image or self-perception (how you see yourself), it just seemed like a good analogy for how it feels to have a good self-image in a world that is so focused on visual bells and whistles… sorry, I often find myself coining phrases or adages to make a point.
What might that point be, you ask?
My point in all this merry-go-round stuff, is this… you’ll have a much more enjoyable ride in life if you learn how to straddle the bars and drag your feet, so you can control the speed of the merry-go-round, thereby strengthening your muscles and allowing you to get off the ride anytime you get dizzy. In reality, I’m saying that you shouldn’t let the world be in control of who you think you are supposed to be!
Me personally, I’ve opted for the carousel over a merry-go-round, in terms of how I see things in the world, and how I see myself…
Don’t let the age fool you,
One man’s junk is another man’s treasure!
Never see yourself as less than you want to be…
"Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses." 2 Timothy 6: 12
Now you know how I see myself whenever I write adventurous tales, passionate poetry, and deep soul searching thoughts for you, my readers and friends. I might seem rather plain on the outside, but that’s my cover story, just like the mild mannered Clark Kent, from Superman. Now, I don’t want to go as far as to call myself a superhero… but in the stories I can be, right?!
Sometimes, it’s the way he looks at me and smiles.
Then there are times where he doesn’t even have to smile or anything… I can see it in his eyes.
Sometimes, it’s the way he laughs at the silly things I say.
But there are still those moments when things aren’t so funny… he won’t laugh or say anything at all, really. He just rests his shoulder against mine to let me know that he’s there.
Sometimes, it’s the little things he does… like bringing me that first cup of coffee in the morning, or surprising me with my favorite candy bar. It’s not even about receiving a gift, it’s about the planning or forethought, if you will. It makes me feel so loved that he was thinking about me, even when I wasn’t with him. You know, sometimes I’ll wake up from the sensation of him tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear… he’d been lying there watching me, as I slept. Isn’t that so adorable!
I could go on and on about all the sometimes that I have felt loved… and these examples are about my husband. I haven’t even gotten to God, yet! If I could share with you all the times that I have felt God’s love, it would fill a book… oh yeah, I already did that!
Let’s just leave it at this:
With enough examples gathered together, one might say that I always feel loved! But, since it was very hard to pick just one time to tell you about, I opted for a handful of my sometimes.
I wish to take you on a journey into the depths of the human heart, through the eyes of traveler…
Though the traveler will often be seen as myself, at any given time it could be anyone, really. The reason for this is to allow freedom of perspective; pointing no fingers, nor assigning any blame. I seek to be as transparent as possible, therefore, its quite appropriate to use myself as an example, so long as I do it in love and with good fruit in mind.
Why, you ask yourselves, would she share such deep emotions, for all to see? Well, I’ll tell you why… because, like it or not, YOU are my family… you’re it, guys and gals. No, this isn’t sorry time, so lift your chins up! This is my choice, my chosen path, as lovingly directed by my DAD! You know, the big guy upstairs!
I will mostly be using my own journey, taking you with me on a walk, of sorts, through the last two years of God’s redemptive love ,and healing transformation. In truth, He has had to rebuild me… from the ground up! I’m free to openly and candidly share this recent part of my journey, as it doesn’t compromise any writings from my autobiography, which is still resting in the vault. I will undoubtedly touch on the many faceted reason that it’s still in there, but for now let’s just say that God asked me to write it, but has yet to give it back to me… so there’s that, lol!
Anyway, back to this new series. If I see you as my family, then you deserve my love, my devotion, my efforts and my fellowship… yes, I said fellowship! I need it from you, just as much as my words reach out to hug your hearts, when I click that Publish button. Now don’t panic! I’ll not ask a single thing more from you than you’re already doing, my sweet friends. Why not, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you why. As I may have mentioned in the past, I feel this world on an empathetic plane of existence, you see. Just by reading through your blogs, and conversing with you, this girl gets hit by waves of your emotions! Some might think this a curse, but it kept me alive all those years ago, allowing me to sense danger quickly and fueled my fight or flight reflexes. While there were a great many years of struggle to understand and navigate my own heart, this empathy has been shaped and molded by the very hand of God… just in the last two years, point in fact!
It has come down from my Father, directly, that it’s time to share what He has done for this broken, fallen, and ugly mess, and yes I said ugly… because that’s what I felt like on the inside for most of my existence, and what one feels like on the inside always finds its way into the light. So, yes, when I began to really change two years ago, your hearts would break to view the actual shape I was in… it wasn’t pretty, I can assure you! That being said, I want to show you the journey God has led me on, as He removed my bitter blinders, flushed out all of poison within my heart, and gave me new eyes…both literally, and figuratively!
So, ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be setting aside the cookie plate on these episodes, which will post each Thursday. Grab a cup of coffee, pad your posteriors, and check your presuppositions at the door! As we travel through the arteries that weave throughout the human heart, look only to see the life-giving waters that flow, mixed with the blood sacrificed to redeem it! We’ll be diving deep, so bring a tissue or two, if you tend to cry like I do.
Don’t worry… remember, I said this was all meant to bear good fruit, so only that which is edifying will be shared. Besides, this has been an incredible journey and I wish to share it with you, so as to reflect Gods miraculous and Perfect Love!
Journey With Me! 