4/23/24 World Book Day

 4/23/24 World Book Day

Happy WORLD BOOK DAY Everyone!

I'm looking forward to reading Rita Mae Brown's recent releases Feline Fatale and Hiss and Tell.

In other genres, I absolutely enjoyed Becoming Supernatural by Dr. Joe Dispenza and Honeymoon at Sea by Jennifer Silva Redmond.

Whatever you are reading, I'm wishing you joy, thrills, enlightenment and whatever else you find to grasp in the multitude of works presented to our generation. We live in a wonderful era of works available at our fingertips, past and present. 

Right at this moment, writers are penning the works of the future. How exciting!

Read on, 

Loraine

1/1/2024 HAPPY NEW YEAR!

 

1/1/2024 HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Dear Fellow Travelers,

Every New Year has its own new beginnings, a fresh start, a new-ish feel. If we could bottle this and drink from it daily, each day would hold its own delightful newness. Perhaps we can. I will endeavor to do so. Will you?

It is a challenge to feel optimistic these days with wars raging, politics fracturing countries, Mother Earth showing us the results of our actions, and our everyday hurdles. Yet there are still blessings to behold and silver linings to discover.

Sharing joys, giving thanks, reminding each other how important we are to one another and being kind to ourselves, all such things brighten our world. And that brightness can reach the dark corners.

As the line from Puff the Magic Dragon goes:

“Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff

And brought him strings, and sealing wax, and other fancy stuff”

Watch for the fancy stuff, like strings and things, words and thoughts, leaves waving in the wind; some can be held, some seen, and some felt. This moment holds eternity, it is eternity, all bottled up and ready for us to drink it in.

 

Cheers!

Loraine

12/31/21 RMB A Mother’s Light

 

12/31/21 RMB  A Mother’s Light

 

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

New Year’s Eve thoughts…The last two months have felt like two years. Recent turmoil regarding health, home repairs, jobs, family, oh yeah and the ongoing pandemic, have snowballed. Sometimes if feels like we are grasping at straws just to hold on to some semblance of sanity, some normality.

The author Mike Dooley surmises not all thoughts are equal, that the positive outweighs the negative by ten thousand-fold. I believe it. Those straws we are grasping at, they are golden, strong, everlasting straws of hope and light.

 

The summer I turned nine, my father introduced us to a pretty lady with short reddish-brown hair that drove a cool green Nova. She was bright and lively. She was a kid at heart and loved to play games, a rare adult who still relished having fun. She became our stepmother and brought with her a new brother and sister into our family. Ensuing evenings were spent drinking Alabama sweet tea and playing raucous games of Parcheesi, Yahtzee, and so on.

Patricia “Pat” Gulick taught elementary school much of her life, often tutoring some kids after hours, collecting clothes for those in need and helping the less fortunate any way she could.

Some months shy of fifty years later, she remains young at heart. She still loves games and watching her Alabama Roll Tide College Football games with her brother.

The challenges she faces now are big. And when she said come visit me now, we did. From California we flew to spend a few days with the lady who helped raise us, played games with us and shared her life with us.

Her love of music and art live on in our memories and belongings as we enjoy all that she created and gave to us.  

On one of those few precious mornings with her, I emerged from the spare room to her sing song voice “Good mooooorning”.

She visited with us every day to tell stories and share her history. Those words, those moments, and the time we still have with her, they are loaded with those golden straws of light, laughter and love.

Seizing the light,

Loraine

10/31/21 RMB Two Accidents

 

10/31/21 RMB  Two Accidents

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

While driving home last night I found myself in a lane blocked by police cars surrounding sideways vehicles. The accident so recently happened that the police had not yet started directing traffic. Drivers edged passed the incident, finding clear paths wherever we could, allowing for a bubble around the wreckage for those involved to reset their lives; for the police to help as best they could.

On another street, eight miles away, I found myself approaching more flashing lights, another accident. This one had flares surrounding the cops and the broken cars. One officer waived us into a side street.

Neither had an ambulance. Hopefully there were no serious injuries. Needless to say, I drove even more carefully than normal the rest of the way home.

Life takes us down paths. Sometimes there are hard stops and resets, as with those in the accidents. Sometimes there are detours. Often there are bumps that leave bruises.

We have choices and every choice comes with some sort of obstacle. The paths we take may be difficult, but here’s the rub. The chirping bird, the dazzling sunset, that special song, every path has them and so much more.

The joy we carry within has a matching vibration in something right before us. Let it connect and suddenly a touch, a sound, a thought, a site, becomes delightful, eternally linked to our souls.

Face each day as a quest for the uplifting magical essence in life and it will be found. Face each obstacle knowing that what is in you is grander than whatever it is.

These are the lessons I’m reminded of as I follow my path, detours, obstacles and all.

Onward we go,

Loraine

8/31/21 RMB August Farewell

 

8/31/21 RMB August Farewell

 

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

As we say farewell to August, the birds chirp to one another, the sky is white with clouds, dogs bark in the distance and leaves rustle in the trees.

August 2021 takes with it my eldest sister Deb Hills who goes on to join my eldest brother Rocky Gulick. Both faced physical challenges, and both were the first to stand up for the less fortunate. They stepped in when others needed a hand. And gave with full hearts.

Life goes on. Grief can be a tremendous hurdle. But life goes on. And we do the best we can, for ourselves; the best we can for others.

When the dogs bark in the distance, and the birds chirp, and the leaves rustle, join in with a hello of your own.

Enjoy moments, catch the magical seconds, smile just because now and then.

Every voice is precious. Every breath counts, however invisible until they are gone, they count. Remember that.

Rest in peace my Sister.

 

With all my heart,

Loraine

5/31/21 RMB Memorial Day Fact

 5/31/21 RMB Memorial Day Fact

 

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

Exactly two months have disappeared by since my last letter. Forgive me if I ramble in catching up.

April’s adventure was moving, box by box, three friends, all on the slower side of 55 spurred one another on, joked, laughed, shed a few tears for the beloved desert home that will be missed, then shared meals to celebrate each day’s work. Finally, sore and satisfied, within our allotted week, the mission was complete. Now Teddy works daily at unboxing, rediscovering treasures and recreating “home” in her new Bear’s Den.

In May I got my first pair of reading glasses ever. Hence, reading is more fun. I got new regular glasses for the first time in 10 years. Hence, driving is more fun. I look from street signs to store signs, finding some readable that were not before.

I finished the enlightening Animal Magnetism and now Cakewalk is next up, along with a few other books on tarot, healthy recipes, and Pimsleur’s Spanish II.

For Cinco de Mayo I received my first covid vaccine and on June 4^th the second awaits me. Too many lives have been lost to this virus and it brings to light the many that have been lost for other reasons, diseases, wars, crimes, etc. I can’t help but feeling that we are the cure, our minds, our motivations, our efforts, we can make this world, all our lives, better.

Today is Memorial Day. Wikipedia says:

On May 1, 1865 in Charleston, SC, formerly enslaved African Americans honored hundreds of Black soldiers who were killed in the Civil War and buried in a mass grave. They unearthed the bodies and gave each a proper burial and held a parade in the soldiers’ honor. This memorial honoring of Black fallen soldiers is believed to have been the first Memorial Day before it later became a recognized holiday.

Kind of adds to the echo of black lives matter, not necessarily the movement, but the fact.

 

June is calling, may it ring in joyfully,

Loraine

3/31/21 RMB Words Emotionally Absorbed

 

3/31/21 RMB Words Emotionally Absorbed

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

While still enjoying your Animal Magnetism, I am also reading A Little Bit of Tarot and just finished Badass Habits by Jen Sincero.

I recently listened to the audio book Barefoot Executive on cd in my car. The author Carrie Wilkerson is like an Energizer bunny in business. Her drive is inspiring and she shares tons of how-to information about getting your business started. Her motto seems to be “if I can do it, you can do it”. However, it dawned on me that each of us is so individual and so unique none of us can accomplish something JUST because someone else accomplished it.

We each have our own hurdles, our own issues, our own skills, motivations, etc. Until we re-package all that we learn and mesh it into our own magical force, one that takes our uniqueness into account, what we accomplish from the knowledge gained is stunted by an invisible force.

Whatever we learn, whether from the Barefoot Executive or Jen Sincero or Mike Dooley or history or anywhere, needs to be digested for it to be of its ultimate value. It needs to be consumed on an emotional, physical and mental level. That information, inspiration, knowledge and education must be mixed into the elements of oneself, as one would mix dough for bread. You can’t take the base of flour and toss all of the other ingredients on top, slide it in the oven and expect a loaf of bread to rise from that heap.

Yet that is what we do, what I do, when I read tons of books. I acquire bits of info, tack them on my mental corkboard and hope all of the pieces will one day fall into place, that I will lose weight, have my own business, get my house in order, etc.

It feels as though there is a door or perhaps the proverbial window to the soul, that needs open to allow the message to seep in deep. Words read and noted on the mental corkboard are helpful, but words embraced and absorbed are transformative.

As we grow, we are trained by nature and nurture to be strong, independent, and complete. In that process of completion, the exits and entrances are sealed up tight. It is why falling in love can sometimes feel painful, the heart literally aches for the object of affection because those barriers must be breached to allow the relationship to flourish.

It is why our mystic skills and our 6^th sense is often muted, they need that window open to breathe. I will be more conscious of this in the future. While reading, I will make an effort to absorb concepts.

I can relate to Jen Sincero’s writing, which feels down to earth and allows for individuality in her suggestions and guidance. Wisdom resides in her words, with a little spice mixed in to boot.

Letting words in,

Loraine

2/28/21 RMB February’s Full Moon

2/28/21  RMB February’s Full Moon  

 

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

I’ve arrived at Animal Magnetism in my mission to read all of your books. This one tugs at the heartstrings and enlightens the mind. Your observations of animals and our interactions with them are told in delightful and tender stories. It is a work woven by the love of animals and I thank you for it.

As February nears an end, last night’s full moon sends it off in a wave of glory. Bold and bright she lit the night sky on my drive home from an evening shopping trip. Native Americans call her Grandmother and last night she beckoned to be remembered, to have her beauty recorded.  

My letters have slowed while I find myself wondering more and more about which words would or could contribute the most. Our world is swirling in a mix of emotions stirred by politics and a deadly pandemic. Anger straining to be heard is causing a thunder that drowns out our neighbors, sisters and brothers. People splinter away from one another, dividing into paths that each group thinks will lead them to a more perfect world. Or maybe they are not thinking, they are feeling and taking impulsive action.  

That sounds sad. My goal is to uplift spirits. Yet I feel the need to recognize the angst. It reveals the need for positivity.

And on the subject of positivity, I came upon the work of two young actors that play characters in the series Wynona Earp, Katherine “Kat” Barrell and Dominique “Dom” Provost-Chalkley.

The love story of their characters is celebrated, and I find that refreshing. It’s a celebration that work like yours made possible. The two ladies playing the role’s of Nicole Haught and Waverly Earp are “out” and the onscreen duo are affectionately called WayHaught.

Dom has created the Start the Wave Organization which “focuses on building an inclusive online community that empowers individuals to find their unique path to create positive change."

How’s that for positivity,

Loraine

  

1/1/21 RMB New Year Treasure Hunt

 

1/1/21  RMB New Year Treasure Hunt

 

Happy New Year Rita Mae Brown,

Whatever the days may bring in 2021, we can bet there will be some magic tucked in unexpected places.

Consider this a treasure hunt for over the next 12 months. Watch for these things, or make up your own magical finds.

Seeing a kitten pounce.

A full moon glowing in the night.

Toddlers laughing.

A neatly stacked pile of clean clothes. (so I’m easily moved)

Sounds of the wind, the sea, a lake, or leaves rustling.

Gentle falling rain.

Reading the last page of a good book.

Time spent walking with a friend.

 

Endless possibilities await, opening doors to the light that shines from within. And from that light, your path is made clearer, joyful and invites you to celebrate life.

 

Happy 2021,

Loraine

11/28/20 RMB Happy Birthday Words, Lexie and Toast

 

11/28/20 RMB Happy Birthday Words, Lexie and Toast

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Rita Mae Brown,

I determined to write a letter on your birthday. Yet, the words, they don’t come easy. The ones that will leave an impact; that will mean something; that will be worthy of the space they occupy.

I sit. I think. I go get a snack. Sit some more. Think some more.

While awaiting creativity to flourish, I tap Google Play on my phone to tune into some Spanish music. Google Play is no longer a thing, but it refers me to YouTube Music.

Hmm, I tap Spotify looking for my past attempts to create a play list with plans to add Spanish music. Spotify gives me a line about “something” going wrong and wants me to reload the app. Nope, annoyed I go elsewhere for my musical enjoyment.

I start a mission to find YouTube Music, but land on plain old YouTube, search for Spanish Music and boom, I’m set.

While Enrique Iglesias serenades me, I eat my morning snack of cream of wheat and toast. Actually, it is half cream of wheat and half cream of rice with some coffee creamer and honey mixed in with a gluten free milk.

The ingredients I thought would mix well have melded into an over-sweet glop. I eat it anyway, because the words have not formed, and it is the thing in front of me to do. I read in a dabbling sort of way Jen Sincero’s You Are a Badass Every Day.  

The toast is good. While enjoying it, a small thud impacts my outstretched legs and I look up from my book. Lexie The Kitten, our family’s newest addition, peeks up at me.

A silky black body with wide eyes moves to the napkin and toast. She thinks perhaps she has found a treasure. She sniffs the remaining half piece of toast, which I pick up and begin munching. She is not deterred in her quest and tastes a crumb, immediately deciding this is no treasure at all and she disappears as quickly as she appeared.

Then the thoughts form and the words flow and I realize that what is important is that you know someone is thinking of you on your birthday…and that treasures abound everywhere so if there isn’t one right there in front of you, leap away and go find one!

 

Happy Birthday and Happy Thanksgiving too,

Loraine

9/29/20 RMB Helen Reddy Rest in Peace

 

9/29/20 RMB Helen Reddy Rest in Peace

 

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

Do you remember a time when you didn’t know what you didn’t know?

It’s hard to imagine such a time in these days of internet answers at our fingertips.

It must have been about 1974. I was nine when my dear Auntie Mary and Mother presented me with concert tickets to see Helen Reddy. And I had no idea what I was in for. It was in the days of daytime shows like Dinah Shore and Mike Douglas. I’d seen her sing and quickly acquired all of her records with my birthday money.

A trip to our Spring Valley Kmart with my stepfather was particularly fruitful. From that venture I came home with three albums which I immediately began playing on the turntable non-stop.

I knew every song and sang them in a whisper on my walk to elementary school a couple of miles away. Her self-penned Best Friend, about being a friend to yourself, was a particular favorite and one that I’d lean on often in trying teenage years. She was the angelic voice of compassion and inspiration that drove me when I was lost and comforted me when I was down.

I’d never been to a concert and that night it was all very new. With my Aunt and Mother beside me, I watched and breathed in every note. The image of her gliding from side to side on that stage, singing her heart out, is as vivid today as it was then.

Rest in peace Helen Reddy. May your spirit live on and your work continue in all its magical ways.   

In celebration of your life,

Loraine

7/31/20 RMB Friendly Stray

7/31/20 RMB Friendly Stray 

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

As I approached a stop sign at the end of my block, a woman waived at me. I slowed my car to avoid a dog in the road, a tubby bulldog mix. At first, I thought she was trying to call him home. We both asked at the same time, “Is he yours?”

I told her no, he was not mine. But as soon as I rolled down the window he jumped up and panted in my face, with a telltale wiggle that implied there was a tail wagging with abandon at the other end.

I don’t know if she heard me or not. Maybe she saw the dog’s reaction and figured he was my problem now, either way.

I’m not one to get friendly with strange dogs, especially muscular husky ones with giant teeth and big mouths. I told him to get down and he did so quickly, proceeding to travel in a circle around my car looking for an entrance.

I didn’t want to move forward because I could no longer see his stout body and didn’t want to hit the fellow. I put the car in park and got out to contemplate what to do. He came running. Reluctantly, I opened the back door and up he soared without a second thought. At least that got him out of the street.

As he sat there in all his splendor, so proud if himself for getting in the car and up on the backseat with head held high, I examined his chain linked collar. No tags. He was obviously trusting and kind.

I got in the front seat and in a flash that big mouth was panting beside my head. He had hopped his front feet to the console between the two front seats and was ready to watch the road with me.

I nudged with my elbow to push him back, afraid his plan might be to jump into the front passenger seat where my sister’s take out meal sat. “You can’t get up here.” Push. “Get back there.” Push.

Neither push budged the friendly beast an inch. I slowly took the right turn, keeping my arm there as a meager blockade. When I got to my driveway, I called the sister. I figured she could bring me a spare leash and take her food out of harms way. I planned to travel around a few blocks and hopefully find his home.

Another car drove by before I could finish the explanation and the sister was left hanging on half a story while I waived down the car. It passed me, but then slowed and the shiny white car with tinted windows backed up.

I asked, “Do you live around here?”

The nice man replied “No”.

In a sad face, I said “Oh,” and figured it couldn’t hurt to ask, “would you happen to know who this dog belongs to?”

“What dog?” he said and leaned over to see when I motioned to the back seat. “No, I don’t know.”

I explained how he had gotten into my car a few houses up the block. And when I say up, I mean up. I live on a very steep street.

He said “Sorry” shrugged and carried on up the street.

I continued my story with the now curious sister on the cell phone as I sat there parked in front of my own driveway.

The white car rounded the corner again and made its way back up to me after driving around the block. The nice man pulled over next to me and said, “They’re looking for him up there. I told them to come down here. It will take a while for them to get here.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you so much! I’ll wait for them.” He smiled a big smile and as he drove, away I yelled after him, “God bless!”

A rag tag crew of young men found their way down the hill to me. At first, I was a little reluctant to hand my happy friend over to just anyone, but he obviously knew them as they approached. “Missing something?” I asked and one of them nodded. I figured that if they were the owners of him, they must be doing something right, because he was so friendly.

There was someone in a Jeep with them and he offered to take the guy and the dog in his car. Maybe he was just a passer by offering to help. The guy declined and leaned over to walk the dog by holding his collar. I hoped he didn’t have far to go.

We caused a bottleneck in traffic with my car and the Jeep that was in the middle of the road and another car parked on the other side. A few cars were waiting to pass so no more words were said. The Jeep moved along.

As the cars passed, there came that nice shiny white car with tinted windows. The man smiled at me and this time as he passed, he was the one that yelled out “God bless.” We both laughed.

Together we did a good deed. But something else happened too. See, I’m white and the man with the big smile in the shiny white car is black. It felt like there was an added element of our working together on this minor mission.

At first, I thought he came around the third time just to be sure they found me and their dog. Later, I wondered if it was so he could respond in kind with “God bless” to me.

As people protest and shout and demonstrate the vital importance that Black Lives Matter, something tells me it is equally important for us all to do the little things, to help each other, to reach out in a neighborly way.

Neither one of us did it to prove a point, but everything we do, every day, proves a point. There was something unspoken within us that recognized the importance of our joint effort. God bless.

For whatever God or Goodness you worship, God bless,

Loraine

6/28/20 RMB Four Agreements

6/28/20 RMB Four Agreements

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

These are trying times. Each of us has a full plate in our laps.

With all that we are juggling it is important to take a step back and breathe.

Today Teddy reminded me of the Four Agreements. Because I needed reminding.

1.     Be Impeccable With Your Word

2.     Don't Take Anything Personally

3.     Don't Make Assumptions

4.     Always Do Your Best

These four short agreements are easier said than done. Full of wisdom, they can set things right if taken to heart.

More thoughts...Live healthy. Voice concerns for a better nation and make that happen. Take care of each other. Every little thing counts. Stay strong by being as kind as you are brave.

Carrying on,

Loraine

5/31/20 RMB TEN OF US

5/31/20 RMB TEN OF US posted 5/31/20

 

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

If ten of us were in a lifeboat in the middle of an ocean with light blue skies overhead and the peaceful sway of the water below us, would we allow one man to kill another while we filmed it on cameras? Then, as his body lay still, would those remaining of us, hurt and angered by the loss of our friend, set fire to the boat, tear at its structure, and destroy it?

If we did, we would sink.

 

There are more than ten of us and the sky is not light blue; a dark grey atmosphere blankets us. And the waters are not peaceful. They are choppy and dangerous. We could use our numbers to support one another and keep this boat from tipping in the rough seas. We could hold on to one another to ensure no one falls overboard and drowns.

But we don’t.

 

Lives have been taken and others damaged. The perpetrator hides amongst our vast numbers, behind shields, in dark corners, and in the recesses of our minds silently cultivated from hundreds of years of conditioning. And when brought forward, the urge to retaliate overwhelms those who remain.

It takes strength to combat hate with peace.

We must find that strength, because in the end…we are all in this boat together.

 

One of the many,

Loraine

4/30/20 RMB Seeing 2020

4/30/20 RMB Seeing 2020

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

We are on the eve of our fifth month of 2020. Covid-19 has taken over 231,000 lives worldwide.  The phrase “seeing 2020” is often used for perfect vision. This year the virus has awakened an awareness in us all, of our vulnerabilities, our faith, our community, our hopes and our fears.

I believe the Universe speaks to us. What I refer to as the Universe, some call God, or science, etc. A rose by any other name is still a rose. What you call it doesn’t change its existence, just your interpretation of it.

We were squabbling over borders; creating more and more distinctions between us and “them”; damaging our earth and removing protections for our open spaces; allowing politics to determine our opinion above and beyond whatever the decent thing to do may be.

In this tragedy we face now, I hear a strong voice echo “Enough!”

Those borders we argued over are now closing and flights are grounded. We had trouble co-existing with our neighbors and now we have all been sent home for some long, hard thinking time. The land, oceans, and sky are breathing a sigh of relief from our constant abuse and pollution.

Everything exists in cycles, each cycle prompting along the next cycle. When we do our best, our future holds the best in store for us. It is time for us to be at our best now. As we move forward, we must take each step with care.

My heart goes out to those impacted by this virus and I send appreciation to those that are helping care for them, doctors, nurses, relatives and friends.

We have much more to be thankful for, from the grocery stores to restaurants that continue to serve us, to the military, police and other essential personnel that continue to keep our infrastructure dependable, the busses running, the lights on, etc. We will get through this…together.

With gratitude for the opportunity for me to voice my thoughts, all my best to you.

Sincerely,

Loraine

3/29/20 RMB COVID 19 Numbers

3/29/20 RMB COVID 19 Numbers

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

Sunday’s numbers say 3,718 people died of COVID 19, of those 573 were Americans. I watch digits daily, with sorrow for those our world has lost and hope for a brighter day ahead.

The statistics lead me to the number who are taken yearly by the common flu, and by other illnesses, and for other reasons.

And in this sea of number, there are others, like the hundreds of thousands of daily births. Worldometer.info adds them up one by one, day by day.

Each death and every birth is a person, a mother or father, sister or brother, son or daughter, and they remind me how precious every day is, how fleeting every breath.

Every 1 counts.

Peacefully,

Loraine

2/29/20 RMB Leap Year and a tinkering Universe

2/29/20 RMB Leap Year and a tinkering Universe 

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

Happy Leap Year!

It fits, for me anyway. I’ll be leaping from my place of employment for 23 years into a new adventure. The owners of our small publishing company have decided to let loose the reins. 

The press will still exist and there will still be books to sell. And I am likely, at this point anyway, to be the person selling them.

My office will no longer be miles away, but only yards, in my own living room. As much as I wished it would not come to this, as uncomfortable as change is, a thought occurred to me yesterday.

Be careful what you wish for, they say.  

Here’s the thing. When I knew my job would be disappearing soon, my only plan was to find someplace closer to home and where I could still wear jeans to work. Guess what, working from home as a contracted sales rep fits that bill.

Furthermore, a dream of several years has been to write books, travel and sell them. Recently, judging from the likelihood of being able to support myself on that alone and in light of my snail’s pace in writing, I added hosting Tarot classes and giving Tarot readings to the mix as I travel about.

“Well”, the Universe says, “here you go. You will soon be self-employed and selling books. Get busy. Write some of your own to include! And work up that Tarot thing too.”  

The thought of leaving a steady job to be on my own was scary, too scary to do it on my own, too scary to walk into work and give my notice. And now, here I am being set up by the new ownership, helped financially, with equipment, furniture, you name it. The Universe saw my fears and responded with kindness, encouragement, and all the tools I need to be successful.

And I didn’t see it right away. I spun it around in my mind, the tasks, the challenges, the new owner’s assistance, the set up and reality of it. A light dawned and the ah-ha connection was made. This is what I asked for. This is what I envisioned. This really is how the Universe works.

Be careful what you ask for,

Loraine

1/13/19 RMB Give Credit

1/13/19 RMB Give Credit

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

What’s the point? I sat and wondered. What’s the point of life? More specifically, what’s the point of doing this task over that task, or any task?

I contemplate this as I work a jigsaw puzzle on my laptop computer with altering feelings of laziness, being disconnected, rebellious, and even anger at all that calls to me on my giant “to-do” list.

“Gather sky-blue pieces together.” My mind must have thought this at some point, because my fingers move to accomplish the mission. Perhaps it is automatic, since I don’t recall thinking it, but now the sky is done, and I watch the grass connecting piece by piece.

What is before us, we do. Handle, complete, process, avoid, we “do” something with everything. And time passes. So, this is life and still, “What’s the point?”

In my imperfect human mind, some echo tells me that it is of utmost importance to do the thing that brings positive results, a cleaner kitchen, a tidier home, a well-groomed garden, a lean body, and so on. I have none of the above by the way.

So, here is the struggle. The puzzle is before me. All else is just inner turmoil. Piece by piece, the carousel horse’s mane takes shape. A pink bridle reaches to an open mouth and a silent whinny.

My mind seeks a more all-consuming escape. I que up the comedy sketches on my smart phone, which is smarter than I am, I’ll admit that. My awesome nephew set it up. I tap an icon and wah-la. Like electricity, I don’t know how it works, but I know where to tap to bring the light or the comedy. And yes, its smartness does concern me, but those are musings to dissect on another day. I tap the phone.

In that flash of mere seconds, instead of receding as I begin listening to the first comic, thoughts multiply and expand in defiance of the new intrusion. What is the point of one’s career like a that of a comedian? A doctor’s purpose is clear, a lawyer, a farmer, they all work towards their own positive result. 

However, a comedian, a novelist, an actor, a puzzle maker, they capture our attention, and is that a good thing? What positive result is there in their chosen career when they allow me to avoid accomplishing my own? I watch the comedian explain the pains of being the second born twin, and a surprise at that. He “crashed” his own birth.

Then Lucas Bohn appears. A white comedian who adopted black baby, he relates the humor he encounters because of this. I smile thinking of my nephew and the black baby he holds in the photo on my phone.

Next is James Veitch’s elaborate wrong number prank on a man who thought he was calling his landlord. The caller insists he fix his apartment. Obligingly, James concocts a plan, complete with over the top visuals about what he intends to do to this angry renter’s apartment. At some point the renter is clued in and seeks the correct number for his landlord, but not before we are entertained and enjoy a happy ending.

Jay Larson, another comedian, handles a wrong number call regarding a business’ budget, where he engages with the caller, who he refers to as Random Guy. He invents expenditures, figures, and even coworkers as he names them to add relevance to his story. A few days later the gig is up, and Jay reminds them, by his actions, to lighten up.

The last three comedians wheedled joy into my heart. An answer to my recent inquiry unfolds and what a wake-up call it is. Credit is due to these three men.

That positive result isn’t always tangible, it isn’t necessarily a cure, a court battle, or a field of corn, nor a trim body, or orderly surroundings. It can be a feeling, like joy. It can be happiness, peace, and a sense of connection, all full of laughter and light. Although, this can be found in producing our own positive results, it can also be given, shared and cultivated in one another. Because beyond anything tangible, all of those good feelings, THAT’S THE POINT.

Happy returns,

Loraine

1/12/19 RMB Happy Birthday DDD

1/12/20 RMB Happy Birthday DDD

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

Today is his 85^th birthday. On January 12^th in 1935 a baby boy was born who would one day become my father.

This memory stands out. Some fifty years ago he carried me upstairs to bed after I fell asleep in our family’s Pennsylvania living room, nestled in the middle of a military housing complex.

He has taught me a lot of things by example and by his words. I’ve matured enough now to absorb those lessons more than before.

As a Marine he fought for his country in 2 wars and now helps recognize and show appreciation to Wounded Warriors for their service.

We refer to him as Dearest Daddy Darling, said with endearment and a bit of over the top humor. It seemed important to say something today. Memories flood in. I am fortunate to have a chance to express gratitude to the father that carried me up those stairs and who has carried our family in his heart these many decades.

Happy Birthday Daddy Darling Dearest!

Cheers,

Loraine

12/24/19 RMB Christmas Eve Shadow

12/24/19 RMB Christmas Eve Shadow

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

On this Christmas Eve our sunny California skies are shuffling clouds, dropping buckets of rain, and there is a cold chill in the air. Our mountains have snow and Teddy’s bird baths in the high desert freeze overnight. Her feathered friends wait patiently for the sun to melt their morning drink. Winter is upon us.

Somewhere over the skies of Delaware this evening a little cat named Shadow has crossed over to the other side and is in heaven now. Life was a struggle for this little gal, but she had a good life with someone looking after her. Shadow’s spirit will live on in the heart of my friend Moe.  

That’s our best hope isn’t it, to have someone who holds your spirit in their heart. Christmas Eve calls those to mind that we hold dear, near and far, from companions in our daily lives to those of our youth, our families, our circles. We exchange good will, share stories, relive memories and make more.  

Tonight, on this Christmas Eve, I’m sending my best out to you, to Shadow in Heaven, to my circle and to our future, may it be full of good cheer!

Merry Christmas,

Loraine