Stars…

“Use the stars…

Shiny gold ones, foiled and glinting with sunlight

Chart them row by row.

Measure what is right, what works.

Use the golden stars.”

And so I measured out handfuls of stars.

I charted them row by row.

I measured them, glinting and shiny…

Like hope.

It worked well.

My star, I hitched my wagon to

Like Emerson said to

Golden shining, reflecting sunlight

I swore I saw a flashing and a dartling blue

Joy dancing and hope shimmering

In the flashing darling  blue

High and unattainable

Like Browning’s I suppose…

Much like Browning,

I do not regret that others’ stars are their world

But I do wonder…

Did my star ever really open its soul to me?

But Mr. Browning… I too love it.

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My Star – Robert Browning

All, that I know
Of a certain star
Is, it can throw
(Like the angled spar)
Now a dart of red,
Now a dart of blue
Till my friends have said
They would fain see, too,
My star that dartles the red and the blue!
Then it stops like a bird; like a flower, hangs furled:
They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it.
What matter to me if their star is a world?
Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it.

Blue is calling out to me

I turned the turquoise over in my hand
The stone was cold and smooth
It isn’t quite the shade I longed for
But it reminded me of you

I turned on my FM station
I was hoping to numb my mind
Lately when I find it racing
It returns to you each time.

I keep running, I keep moving,
But I’m just stuck looking back
Over my left shoulder
Longing for what I cannot have

When I run out of steam and air
I lay back beneath the trees
Looking up through the branches
The blue covers me

Blue is calling out to me.

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Brandi Carlile and Amy Ray do an incredible duet. I love this music.

Lady Blue

Say, lady blue

When the storm hit

When it was icy

When the rain fell

When I froze inside

Where were you

Say, lady blue

When the music stopped

When all ears went deaf

When silence surrounded

When I cried out mutely

Where were you

Say, lady blue

When those most loyal

Gathered and rallied

Gathered shattered pieces

Mending my wings

When they lifted me skyward…

Say, lady blue

When I was blue… the bluest blue

When I needed you

….silence…

Lady blue, where were you

I’m Not the One You Seek

Fairy tale stories

We were young and dreaming

All of us

We were all for believing

The best was yet to come

We would have a home

A place to belong…

Then you were gone

A decade late

Now you show concern

You mean well

You share the lessons you have learned

You “protect”

But I’m outside your reach

Broken trust…

Now I’m not the one you seek

Promises made

We were young and dreaming

Just we two

I was for trying and believing

I called out loud

The deafening silence screamed

You weren’t listening to me.

A decade late

Now silence fills your ears

Unbroken by

Our laughter or our tears

You reach out

It’s a void that’s debilitating

But you weren’t there…

Now I’m not the one you seek.

Fairy tales

Flooded with “Happily Ever Afters”

Full of peace

Being wanted and joyous laughter

Even if there were tears and sorrow

There was together…so I believed

But they were just words

And now they have helped create this “me”.

Decades later

I am the wicked witch

The one who only looks out

For me and my own “itch”

I am the one who protects “mine and me”

And I feel your shock and awe

Because I’m not the one you seek.

For so long you let your silence speak

Now I’m not the one you seek.

"Are people born Wicked? Or do they have" - Galinda

An interesting song

I was listening to Sirus Radio’s channel The Coffee House when I heard this song. It stopped me in my tracks. I thought I’d share.

Artist : Martin Sexton

Song: Friends Again

Album: Sugarcoating

Bravery …

Brave doesn’t mean unafraid. It means moving forward the best we can in the face of our fears. Sometimes it’s just time to move. There is no option. It might lead to a really incredibly horrible season. But life is made up of seasons. One leads to the next I think.

When it’s done,
There will be no back road,
There is no trap door,
No hiding place
All cards facing up,
No poker faces,
No hidden traces,
No secret stash

When it’s done,
There will be wounds made
There will be tears shed
No turning away
Face the music
Pay the piper
No cheaper seats

When it’s done,
There will be you.
There will be me
No more we.
No more back up
No more rescues
Lonesomeness you can’t fathom

When it’s done,
There will be no back road,
There is no trap door,
No hiding place
All cards facing up,
No poker faces,
No us,
Just you and me,
No we.
When it’s done.

Bowling and Line Dancing!

       This month of school has been such an edurance test. Field trips and school plays of all different kinds. Mat went to Austin alone. I have to get his film developed. Abbey went to a Fairy Tale Ball and then bowling and a park! There are no adequate words for the noise level of a bowling alley FULL of 3rd graders. Abbey however had a blast.

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       Yes, what you are seeing behind Abbey are wall to wall 3rd graders. There was an equally large sea of small fry bodies on the opposite side! Lots of children, dropping and rolling balls, sugar in the form of sodas, brownies, smoothies, and candy were everywhere!

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My little chocoholic thought the quarter pound brownie was awesome.

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She did proclaim that the PINK balls were too heavy!

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     You haven’t lived until you hear an ocean of 3rd grade voices all singing loud and proud Miley Cyrus’ “The Climb”!

       Mathew had his own exciting moments. “The play’s the thing,” said William Shakespeare’s Hamlet and Mat would agree. Especially, a Texas History play where there are cowboys, monks, Native Americans, Praire women, tornados, and line dancing!

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       I think the next to last Line Dancing number to a Shania Twain tune says it all:

My Princess Goes to the Ball

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     Today my princess, dressed in her finest, went to her school’s “Fairy Tale Ball”. She danced with Pinochio. She had cupcakes, cookies, and punch. She rubbed elbows with other royalty, magical people, and even a few villians. There were a number of Peter Pans, Pirates, Princes, Princesses, Dorthys, various Disney Princesses, the Red Queen and Mad Hatter, Johnny Apple Seeds, Paul Bunyans, Pecos Bills, the Tin Man, Captain Hook, and more.

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     Abbey’s first choice was “Elphaba”. And really who could blame her! Elphie is different. Elphie was misunderstood. Elphie had a passion for justice and saving the oppressed. Elphie was the underdog. Elphie was brilliant. And she could sing! Abbey related to the emotions Elphaba experienced and her need to be accepted and wanted. I loved the idea. However, in a small town Abbey and I were afraid that all that anyone would see would be Margaret Hamilton’s version not Idina Menzel’s.
Glinda And Elphaba Pictures, Images and Photos

So finally for many of the same reasons, Abbey chose to be Disney’s Beauty and the Beast’s “Belle”. After all “Belle” saved her Prince instead of waiting around to be saved! I was thrilled with her logic. (Belle is my favorite Disney Princess too unless you count Gisell.)

    My girl is quiet by nature. She isn’t flamboyant or flashy. She is lovely and very tender hearted. She was a bit nervous and a little self concious about it all. But I applied make-up, shined up her tiara, and she shone. She is a royalty to me. I am very proud of her. She isn’t the ham her big brother is. She is more meditative and thoughtful. She doesn’t need or want a crowd like Mat and I, but her soothing spirit often heals people one on one. You feel at peace around Abbey. Everyone is welcome in her circle. She is a realist. She is honest. She is growing.

     She had fun I think. She danced her final dance with me. And I all I could think was:

Ten

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     Ten years ago, he was a tiny, raven haired, “blue” (wet lungs) wriggly, thing with giant brown eyes . I was a marveling, wriggling, stunned, wide  eyed…. new mom. I had no clue what I was supposed to do with this new life placed in my hands. Not really. I mean I was fairly certain that there would be bottles, diapers, and no more sleep … ever. I was fairly certain that I needed to up grade my super hero knowledge bank. I was reading like frantic for the nine months prior to his arrival about robots, Narnia, Wrinkle in Time, Christopher Robin, King David, and Jesus. I listened to Andrew Peterson’s “Little Boy Heart Alive” and Rich Mullins’ “Boy Like You/ Man like Me”.

     I have been so proud for the last 10 yrs. to be his mom. He really has been very easy. He’s bright intellectually and in personality. He’s funny. He loves making others laugh. He’s considerate and tender hearted. He adores his baby sister. Now, that’s not to say he doesn’t have flaws. He has his mother’s sharp tongue to match his gift for words. He has his father’s quickness to judge to match his joy in making friends. He has the laze about gene like the 80′s version of Strawberry Shortcake’s Huckleberry Pie that make most boys like long summer days flat on your back doing nothing (even if mom just requested your room to be cleaned). But he is becoming a man I am more proud of every day and amazed by every moment. He has my dreamer spirit still. He has my since of life’s injustices and frankness of speech.

     Today I woke him at 4 a.m. to put him on a charter bus with scads of other 4th graders headed from this area near Dallas to Austin. He’ll tour the state capital. He’ll play games on the bus about Texas and national history. He will eat pizza with his buddies. Then he’ll come dragging home around 8:00 pm tonight.  He is going without me. He is stepping out and stepping up. I’m not concerned about his behavior. He has a strong sense of right and wrong married to a deep respect for others. I still am that  25 year old new mom some where who wonders if I can keep him safe. I worry about providing him with what he needs (and much of what he wants). I worry about things out of my control like flat tires on the bus, insane people at the capital, will he have enough to eat, will he eat in the time he’s given, and a host of other things a mom lets swim in her grey matter when her hands are not close to the ones she loves.

     I agree that he needs the right to independence. I agree he is growing up and responsible. I know he can respect those in authority and handle himself well. But… he’s my boy. And I love him. I always will. So a moment to ponder and then I’ll open my hand and let him grow. I am so proud of my son.

Carly Simon Style Mother’s Day Memories

       One of my favorite Mother’s Day songs is by Carly Simon. I respect her music and enjoy it all, but one of my kids’ favorite songs this time of year is :

 

     I love the imagery and concrete things that people would recognize that speak to who Carly Simon is- for example, avacados, standing ovations, and I Love Lucy. She lists off all the things that matter to her and then reminds her children that they are the  real love of her life from the moment they were born. It’s beautiful and it always speaks to the kids and me.  

     Mat, Abbey, and I would play that song then list things we liked too. It was a good way to get know each other and every time I ‘ve asked them there’s been a new edtion, but the last thing we acknowlege is that they are THE love of my life. While I love the variety of things, art, music, whatever… the most valuable, the most beautiful are my kids. They are my highest art.

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