Curly girl hell and the truth about humidity 

I have curly hair. Actually, my curly hair has me. It’s definitely the one calling the shots. It’s summer, it’s humid, there is a rainforest developing somewhere south of my ears. Every time the weather shifts into high gear like this, I have two options: shave my head, or find a way to deal. It’s come razor close many times. Figuratively and literally. The thing that has held me in check from giving in to the attacks of the crazies is that I’m 98% certain I do not have what it takes to rock the cue ball look. 
Right here is the part where I lay a little science on you, so get your pencils out because you’ll need to hold your questions and comments until the end.
 Humidity measures the amount of moisture present in the air. Usually, you can measure this with a hygrometer, a simple meter that tells you what percentage of water vapor the air contains. Isn’t that word fun to say? I like to roll the r’s and feel fancy. Go on and try it. Roll those r’s and fancy it up. You’ll be a total hit at parties. This is all super fascinating stuff isn’t it? See? It’s true, learning CAN be fun.

Take a deep breath because here comes a little more knowledge. If you don’t have a hygrometer or you want to figure out the humidity without one, there are other ways but the simplest way is to look at my head. You will notice that my hair appears several inches shorter than it actually is on days when it rains, or when it feels like it damn well SHOULD hurry up and rain and let the dry air, well behaved hair, and a tiny bit of sanity return. 

Marshmallow fields forever 

It finally happened. It’s true. All those whispered and hushed stories told reverently around camp fires, and late at night drum circles where bare chested men and women gather and chant the old tales of lore to the rhythmic beating of the ages….

Giant marshmallow fields as far as the eye can see. 

I was on my way north, headed home after an oddesy meant for another blog, when the field appeared. Magnificent. I pulled over and jumped out, leaving the car running, not a care for the consequences, and arms spread wide I ran towards my personal field of dreams. S’more heaven. 

A whole FIELD of enormous sugary confection. Imagine how heavenly it would smell if the grass caught fire…

Now all I need is a fence post, a match, and one of those 10 pound novelty bars of chocolate…

The sunshine inside

I am so very human. So very human and struggling these days. I am wrestling with my demons instead of just cuddling them, and keeping them distracted and at bay. I’m struggling, but I am also so very good at hiding it all behind my smile.  So good in fact that I can fool whole rooms full of people into believing that the very sun shines inside me.  
In a way this is true. I’ve had my share of joy and delight, and plenty of tears and soul weary times too. While I have discovered that I actually have no control over life, I have also uncovered a truth even greater than this. Through the worst of these moments, through the anxiety and sadness, I have the power to create sunshine. It starts with directing my gaze both inwardly, and then out into the world.  
Though I may feel lost and limited, I am still in possession of gifts. We all are. Looking inside myself I search for what is worthwhile in my own reflection and I begin to see ways I can give those gifts away. The more I reach out and touch others in small ways, the more my own smile starts to stretch from only my lips, into my heart. It’s warm and it tingles. It begins to feel like I am standing in the sunshine after a long winter. I have learned to hold onto that power, and to bring daylight into my dark moments. I struggle through my dusk and dawn until the very sun shines inside me.

And now for a NAP

Today was a nice break from the 98 degree hell hole that kept the pups and I from really getting out there the past couple of days. I’m at work crazy early every morning so I’m stuck with mid to late day time slots for hitting the street (and no, not in the way that might help defray the kids college tuition payments) which I’m not thrilled about during the summer. 

I’m stubborn (a shocking revelation i am sure) and will NOT give up my walks and runs because they keep me from feeling all stabby and murdery and thus out of jail, so despite a tangled and confused start, walks on the face of the sun it is. 

The girls took a million and three shady stops and one super impromptu and equally long “lake break” right in the middle of our trek that almost landed me ass over teakettle in the water with them.

 We somehow managed an over all time of 18 minutes a mile for out 4.5 miles so clearly, we are not QUITE ready for my Smuttynose half marathon in October. As soon as we got home the pups sacked out. On me. I guess I’m napping right where I am. 

As it turns out, dogs ARE the most “faithful” companions. They dragged me over for a shade break at the grotto of Mary, so at least I don’t have to worry about their state of grace….🐾🐾🐾🐾👣




The naked truth and sweet baby jeezuz

True story. Tonight, afer a very, very long (albeit lovely) day of work, errands and life in general, I made my way upstairs to my bedroom to climb out of my clothes and into my jammie’s. 
I stripped down to the skin God gave me, and stood for a moment to take a deep breath when the thunderous sound of feet racing up the stairs was followed immediately by my door bursting open (as I faced it wearing only surprise) and two of my children exploding into the room.
We all screamed (for different reasons I imagine) and my daughter shoved a brother out into the hall, locked the door and fell on my bed laughing and yelling at the banished boy. They were arguing over who was my favorite. They chose that particular moment to settle the debate since my daughter had made grandiose claims that I texted to her that SHE was the most favored. Their arguing continued while I stood naked, and stunned. And naked. Completely naked. Did I mention that I was naked? Because I was. VERY NAKED. And yet they persisted in debating at full volume, the standing each had in my heart. The heart inside my very naked body. 
It is hard to maintain a sense of dignity and decorum in this household under the best of circumstances. 
“GET OUT!” I yelled into the vacuum of my children’s attention.

She scrambled off the bed and out the door, slamming it behind her while they continued to argue about who I loved best. Finally my son called loudly through the chaos “JUST TELL US WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE!”

That was it. I snapped.


I heard my son say quietly to my daughter as they retreated:

“See? I TOLD you it wasn’t you. It’s Jeezuz.”

And now for a drink. A strong one. But first, CLOTHES.

Alternate “reality”

I stood in front of the toy display staring at the small box with increasing curiosity. It boasted a plastic, flip top Star Trek communicator. It has buttons that light up and it even makes sounds. A small instruction book accompanies the handheld device with an impressive table of contents to guide the novice. 

As you might guess, I am a novice. At least in the realm of sci-fi. I may have a lot of milage on me in other areas, and a fair amount of useless knowledge about subjects that hardly apply to day to day life, but when it comes to interplanetary travel, alternate universes, and parallel realities I admit my well is dry.

So you are wondering why, with all five of my children past the age of small, gimmicky, walkie-talkie toys (now that they are each armed with a smart phone to match their smart mouth, teen angst driven dialoguing) I am standing here and staring intently at this particular toy. Maybe you AREN’T wondering. Maybe you happened upon this article quite by accident and, intrigued by the mischiefous arch of my brow, the devilish glint in my eye, you were pulled unwittingly into my web of intrigue. However you happened here, however desperately you wish you had opted to follow that link to the quiz that tells you which former president you most resemble (I got Teddy Roosevelt. I think it’s my moustache that nailed it.) here you shall stay to the end of my diatribe for I have great wisdom to impart.

Since this past November, Super Tuesday to be exact, I have found myself reeling and trying to understand everything around me. Small things like “am I actually awake or am I still asleep and this is all just a weird dream?” And BIG things like “how the hell does someone so devoid of decency, so openly bigoted, so shamelessly self serving, and so willing to lie a shocking percentage of the time ascend to the highest public service office of our nation?”  I’m not a naive Pollyanna, under the illusion that this politician is the only one  guilty of these things, it’s just that THIS guy is WAAAAAAAY off the reservation. WAAAAAAY off. Like, maybe even outer space, other dimension off.  

I don’t understand anything anymore. I mean, I watch the dialogue between this new president and “us” and I honestly think we aren’t speaking the same language. “Alternate facts”? I don’t know where all of YOU came from, but the global consensus seems to be the same: “alternate facts” are not “facts”. They are lies and when I was a kid, the WORST thing you could be called was a liar. There was even a SONG about it. You did NOT want the kids on the playground singing THAT song about you. Not ever. You’d rather hear them call into question the legality of your parentage than to go down in the books as a liar. A liar liar with your pants on fire. HELL no. Call me a bastard and we can still be friends. Call me a liar and it is ON.

So where does this rebranding of lies come from? 

A parallel universe. A distant galaxy far, far away (oddly enough apparently close to Russia though). Another dimension in time and space. Planet Earth swung too close to a worm hole during orbit and we have all been sucked in and thrust millions of light years away from everything we know and understand. It’s the only reasonable explanation. 

Like Kirk and the crew of the Starship Enterprise, we are now forced to roam through space as we navigate home. We find ourselves temporarily stranded in a place who’s ways and language we do not understand. Thus the need for the Star Trek communicator. A device we can hold up to our TVs and computers and stream the strange rantings from the leader of this place and his band of hostile aliens and translate the sounds into words we understand. I feel certain a lot is being lost in translation…

So our survival comes down to three things: tenacity, ingenuity and a desperate hope for a better tomorrow as we make our way through this strange world.

Oh, and a child’s toy. Somehow it just seems fitting. 

Elizabeth out.

She will be bold

She will be bold, this woman inside of me who feels the pressure from her tasks, all the peas beneath her pile of mattresses, the tests of her mettle and the the strength of her heart. 

She will be bold when she brandishes her sword,  and when she unleashes her smile. Her tears are her diamonds and her words carry her truth. This woman has wisdom and flawed though she is, her wisdom endures. She speaks her heart without fear, and her mind without apologizing for having the audacity to have thoughts and opinions of her own. She speaks. 

And she will be bold.