An Update & Gratitude Shower

Many of you are aware of the current situation that our family is walking through.

Many of you have been praying and offering help and encouragement.

It is so very appreciated. As are all the kindnesses extended our way.

The court date was today and while I will skip all the nitty-gritty details inappropriate for mass consumption, I find updating everyone at once a more efficient option just now.

A quick overview for all those who've been checking in on us :
First- it has been mentioned before, but bears repeating again that there is no hatred for my adversary.
A lack of agreement, yes. Human frustration, also a resounding yes. But hatred, no.

There will be another court date in December and some exploration of the issues at hand in the interim.

Meanwhile, the children and I are legally protected and provided for by a wise and honorable judge.

Not to mention my lawyer, who is truly a gentleman and a scholar. I'd be lost without him.

His team is an invaluable asset and I am grateful for every single one of them. Especially 'Little Lady Gray' who had a ready smile for me so early in the morning and totally deserves a bunny rabbit!

So thankful for each and every one of you. 

Thank you for loving and caring about us. We love you back, and fierce.

The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him.

Proverbs 18:17 


Would It Help ~ from the archives

Regarding certain recent events, I copy over an entry from an old blog, written at the time with my mother-in-law in mind and stretching out to fit any and all who may find a balm in forgiveness, from themselves and/or others:https://blynk107.wordpress.com/2007/07/27/would-it-help/

Would It Help?

This forum here- I feel I must excuse, explain it all again- this place is for me. I come here and I scream in the only way I know how. I ask questions that otherwise wouldn’t leave my lips… I fool myself that being here makes it all safe to give a voice.
Dumbo had a feather to help him soar — I have this wee little blog (and additional hang ups that we’ll discuss some other, far off day.)
I probably don’t need this feather, (or those) … but until I am sure, I grasp them tightly in my trunk….
Big Exhale Here.
Would it make a difference, if we listed your sins and excused you from each individually. Is that what you need to happen?
Sex Before Marriage?
Child Out Of Wedlock?
Lying and Lasciviousness?
What if there were nothing you could say to make Love go away?
No face too dirty, no act too desperate….
Would bitterness still taunt you? Would you continue to gnash the flesh of all who dare come near you?
It seems to me that no one hates you as much as you hate yourself.
Who are you to hold that against yourself, eh?
What if I told you that there is Someone who loves you even when I must draw the line? Would you want that Love, or do you prefer your state of misery?
You’ve been forgiven despite all that taints your memory, all that haunts your soul… yes, all of it. Would it blow your mind for me to say, you’ve been forgiven for the things you’ve yet to do tomorrow?
Now, if I could only drop this foolish feather, fly up beside you and whisper this in your ear. If only you would hear me and see how beautiful life can be.
Lay down your arms! Cast your burdens all on me….no, no, I mean on Him…
You can- if you would, if you will…
There is nothing to lose besides a crooked crutch- and all the world to gain.

Pockets & Bad Breath ~ from the archives

Regarding certain recent events, I copy over an entry from an older blog: https://blynk107.wordpress.com/2007/07/12/pockets-and-bad-breath/

pockets and bad breath

It was one of those highlights of motherhood…booster shots at the health department, last in line and four shots delinquent. There was nothing child friendly in the sparse waiting room, only the vending machines served as a distraction, and then, not for long.
The walls were papered with the typical bi-lingual informative posters,with topics ranging from cancer to teen pregnancy; a child could learn a lot ( too much!) just waiting on school booster shots.
One poster had briefly caught my eye, advertising a teen smoking  hot line, fringed at the bottom with little rip off numbers- handy for any who may want to call in for help. I wondered whether it was a very effective medium with which to reach out to others- I wondered if anyone ever called.
My eldest sidled up to me, freshly returned from his latest venture to the vending machine (” If I HAD money, I’d buy that bag of chips…”) and handed me one of the aforementioned phone number slips.
He said, ” This is for Daddy, it says ‘Need help quitting?’ and Dad does, so I’ll give him one and he can call it”
He went on to explain ” You know, for his drinking and that, well, you know, that breath he comes in with. . . it’s bad”
I told him that, HE, Chandler, would have to be the one that opened that particular can of worms…
He promptly got 4 or 5 more phone number slips and crammed them in each of his pockets, wondering aloud as he re-read the poster ” But I DO wonder what tobacco has to do with drinking”
You see, he had gotten so caught up with the notion that he may have found a solution to something he currently sees as a big problem, he was so taken with the “Get Help Quitting” part the tobacco was secondary and a small matter in comparison.
I thought about a lot of things at this point but thought better to say anything aloud. I was slightly humored, mostly saddened.
The mission was long forgotten and -from what I can tell-abandoned by the time we reached home. There is an issue that remains, but I don’t know how to approach it, or if it would even be worth it to try. But I wish, for starters, that you’d check your son’s pockets-there are questions and fears there, but more importantly, there is love.



She said "I'm a little homesick"
I asked her what she was missing the most.
"Those big pretzels and cheese dip"
Ah, the pretzels as big as one's head from Bierhouse.
The online inquiry for local German/Euro restaurants returned three results.
One did not have pretzels.
One was already closed.
The last one was the restaurant where her father and I had gone on our first date.
Of course.
So, we got pretzels.
She was comforted.
And we left with a few new friends.
But the defining moment may have been when, after the clamor associated with being seated subsided, came playing softly through the speakers:
"Maybe I didn't treat you quite as good as I should have, Maybe I didn't love you quite as often as I could have...Little things I should have said and done, I just never took the time...You were always on my mind...you were always on my mind..."



Mornings Before

Select MorningPage entries before the canvas tore...

The Blue Journal

In the ongoing effort to digitize, analyze and immortalize the random thoughts from past journals, I archive now The Blue One. 
We lived in Fernandina Beach at this time.

(click to enter) 

What wonders and wanders await within? 


The Orange Journal

"Leaving Sandy's By The Shore"
Circa 2012(ish)
(click to enter) 

Excerpt: a letter drafted by Clay, typed by me ~ back when he'd had enough (...for a little while, anyway...) 


Wednesday’s Child


You said you’d like to bring our son for a visit this weekend

Then, ‘Surprise! we’re already here.”

Even, already where I was heading



Bad behavior ensued 

Keeping your promise to stay in the car and say no words to me- 

The hate filled FBombs were lauded instead on my mom



A noose swings from our family branch

The cord between us frayed 

Will we drop or will we sway? 

The knot, either way



Toy Store

The toy store looked like a cuckoo clock from the outside and from the narrow doorway, as we entered single-file, it appeared we had found Gepetto’s workshop. 

Brightly colored wooden letters, puppets on strings and puppets on springs gave the impression that the tiny cottage overflowed with hand crafted novelties, but we saw soon enough that all manner of fun diversions made up the walls of the place. There were toys from other countries, wind up toys, trendy toys and toys from days gone by. 

I have always been in love with toys. 

I visited each bustling room and lingered over all of the toys left out to try. 

I was trying to remember how to start Jacob’s Ladder when I heard an exclamation and saw that I was being stabbed in the heart with a knife. 

It didn’t hurt, it was just a plastic, blade-retracting toy knife. 

And my husband was just playing, after all. 

Wasn’t he? 


Secret Life: An Introduction

Two decades should be long enough to know someone, at least a little bit.
Two decades should qualify as long-suffering enough, too.

I am not sure if I’ve ‘run a good race’ or ‘fought a good fight’
I only know I am tired of running and fighting.

A finish line - one drawn in shifting sands- has been crossed.
There are no winners here.

Dim hope; miraculous restoration.
Of course, but oh-so-very dim.

We tried it already, I went all in.
You call it your biggest mistake, I’m not sure it will stick again.

Remember that post-it note analogy?
That was a fair and accurate warning.

For a long, long time - too long, my dear-  I’ve been living by this law you wrote:
Prove me wrong, or I’m right.

Withheld pearls makes for suspicious swine.
But I am trampled every time.

“You live a secret, double life.
You’re a fraud.
 No longer my wife.”

As you wish.

Today, I repent my my intentional duplicity, lay down my brush for silver lining .
You be you, no gloss added.

The windows and doors are open, I’ll not close them.
It is far too nice out there.