Peace on Earth....

It is easy to get wrapped up in the tragic and devastating events of the day.  The news is filled with the terror and horror of everyday life, often in some other part of the world, but occasionally even right in our own back yard.  Crazy people are flourishing, and insanity seems to feed on itself.  The more we allow the inmates to run the asylum, the worse things get.

Happiness versus creativity,,,, Win/win!

I have often read that creative artists, whether actors, comedians, sculptors, artists, musicians, or writers, are most productive when they are miserable.  Apparently, sadness or depression fuels the creative mind, goes the thought.

On being a mom...

Today's moment of thanksgiving... 88 years ago, the world was made a better place because my mother was born. She is an amazing person in more than one way, but her greatest quality, to me, is her unwavering calm support during life's difficult moments.

She is always, and has always been, just quietly there for me, even when she has her own problems to handle. She is never judgmental. She has never once said "I told you so," even though I am certain she had grounds plenty of times. She is the best role model in the world for calmly carrying on when things are rough.

A love note...

I was thinking about being a parent today.  It is such a crap shoot, giving birth to a human being.  You start out with a few cells, and before you know it, there is a whole person eating lemon meringue pie (um... what??) and telling you their opinion, and it may not exactly gel with your own, which is all a bit... disconcerting, to say the least.  I am always surprised when one of my offspring spouts off with an opinion in direct conflict with one of my long held beliefs.  (And it happens a lot, let me tell you.  I have one who will disagree just for the fun of debating the topic, so I know what I'm talking about here.)

Speak now, because forever is a long time....

One year ago, I wished my cousin a happy birthday.  Two years older than me, but only one grade ahead in school, we grew up in the same small town and the same smaller church, which means we saw a lot of each other.  And it wasn't always fun.  But he was a part of my growing up, always there, ever present, solid and dependable.  Over time, I didn't even mind the nickname he called me, because I knew it was said out of affection, although he likely wouldn't have admitted it.  From the outside it probably didn't appear that we were close, but over the years we forged a weird, but important, relationship of love and support that meant a lot to each of us.