This Road of Mine

Welp. The Barnes Clan has successfully sent my father, Mr. William Aaron Barnes on his way to his next adventure with style, grace, and with heavy but full hearts. I do hope there are safaris and airplanes for him to pilot there, where ever that may be.... But you know how there's beauty in everything? Even the dark stuff?  I kinda love that about life. I'm a kind of girl who could be, in my dramatic-like way,  experiencing the end of the world (again), crying and feeling that all is lost, but stop for a moment to look at a lovely moon, a pretty bird, a stunning human.  Because ying and yang are real guys. In the midst of this two week familial journey toward our patriarch's final resting place, there were equal parts sadness and joy. I mean, I saw bad behavior, and I saw good, humble gestures of compassion. I saw inconsolable tears, I heard roars of laughter. I saw divisiveness, and a coming together. I saw me struggle through my own journey in this, while simult...

Winter is not my season. It's not warm. It's not hot. It's cold. It's even been known to be very cold. Like today. And it's not even winter yet. The only thing I like about winter is hot chocolate, coffee, my two sets of fleece sheets, my three sets of flannel sheets, my thick fleece throw, my fleece-lined leggings, the car's super wonderful heat, my portable heater (I have three, its a big house), hot tea, soup... get it? Anything hot or warm. Most anybody who knows me knows that I don't go many hours in the winter without talking about how winter is - just - not - my season. I'm that girl in the "Boys of Summer" song. (singing = You can see me - my brown skin shinin' in the sun - I got my hair combed back - sunglasses on baby.. .) enjoy song here But things have been strange lately (like the last few years). When I go outside in the cold winter air, unless its windy and bitter - winters aren't so bad.  It's almost neve...

I stay alive because: Of quiet morning drives to work, the fresh new baby day ahead of me, deep summer-green leaves all around me - reminding me that life is so temporary, so fragile, so very vibrant at times. I stay alive because: I let soulful eyes meet mine every day, some full of joy, some full of pain, some full of such great hope that maybe, maybe somebody loves them. I love them. I love you. I do. I stay alive because: Chocolate cake, and sautéed spinach, and morning coffee, and good music, and thought provoking movies, and soul touching conversations, and sitting at my favorite window looking out into the very alive world and sometimes the very quiet world, and the smell of morning, and old/new/good friends, and Sundays, and pretty things, and being put to sleep by the moon at my window and being awakened by the sun tap dancing on my face, and my sweet love showering me with sweet feelings are all just too irresistible to not want more of here in this lit...

Don't get mad. I think you might get a little mad, but I've got a truth to tell. I didn't always love Maya Angelou's writing.  It was just "okay" to me.  I loved some other author's works much much more than hers. I guess I liked make believe at the time more than I cared for a truthful story. Spin me a tale, entertain me - that's what I wanted. Maya didn't serve flowers. Just raw truth. But I bought and read her books because as a proper English Major I am supposed to and they look good among the other authors of the black canon section on display in my well-loved and cherished bookcase. Don't judge me... However, I LOVED Maya.  I LOVED Maya's presence.  I loved loved loved the moment she opened her mouth to talk. (Even when her long thoughtful pauses kinda annoyed me cause it turns out I'm not terribly patient.) Maya was: So Calm. So Regal. So Wise. So Patient.  So Beautiful.   So Dignified. ...

I really feel like writing again. I really feel like writing blog posts that reflect me and my point of view. So I'm here. Ready and willing. Awesome Mac keyboard right here ready to tap it out (apple has THE best keyboards). One problem: I really have zero ideas right now. None. I don't know what to say. You can help me, you three people of this page! Help me! Give me a topic. Nothing political (only because I've nothing to say). Religious if you dare, go ahead, I dare ya. Ask a rhetorical-like question. Awaken my foggy, cob-webby brain won't ya. Please don't make me write another blog post about the glorious wonders of coffee, because I will, but there's gotta be more to life than coffee,,yes?.   Hurry. Do it now. Please and thank you....

Crap. I just got ANOTHER reminder today that after all of this time of knowing better, that I am still doing this silly crap. I have this habit/problem of putting people I look up to on pedestals. It always bites me in the hardheaded butt. Always!  I just forget and forget and forget that every human being on this planet is just a human with their own stupid stuff. Just like me. I forget that I am magnificent also, just the way I am, stupid stuff and all. But I don't want to be on anyone's pedestal. Ever. Cause I fall sometimes.  I stumble a lot, but I REALLY FALL sometimes.  I am not known for the little mistakes. I tend to make BLUNDERS! Big Fat OOPSIES!!!! Don't judge me though. I do tons right. My intentions (except for that thing I did last week), are usually good.  I wanna be there for you. I wanna listen to you without thinking of me. I wanna be on time and on point and on the money all the time. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. But please no more...

I realized something that matters only to me and to maybe the few people who will be affected by my new realization. Everybody who knows me probably knows that I absolutely refuse to be buried when I die.   It seems so restrictive, even though I believe that my spirit won’t be there anymore anyway, it still seems too restrictive.   But then the other day, two days ago, I realized something about me and what makes me comfortable.     You see, I like being wrapped in comfort.     When I sleep, I want the covers wrapped around me tight.     It makes me feel safe.     Safe and cozy.       When it’s cold outside, I like warm soft fabric touching me always.   It makes me feel comforted.   In that big bad world out there, at least I know that the only job the fabric next to my skin has, is to make me feel warm, safe and protected.    When I am in a social setting, you can find me i...