funkbelly blues..........vs 1

I’m in a giant funk
And that’s no bunk
PB& jelly
Down in the whale’s belly
And that ain’t steak
Don’t your heart just break
Don’t your wheels just spin
Well it’s another fine mess
Someone's got me in

little balloons i'm sending up to the universe

i would like some clarification on your answer to my fat problem

i smell good today………but i’m at work – so who cares?

if a person wants a hamburger pizza, a person should just say so. i may be intuitive but i ain’t psychic

please move the clock faster on m-f, then slow it down sat-sun – that is all. thank you

why did you impose that peanut-butter granola bar on me?

there was a cat hair on my windshield this morning

my favorite pair of shorts….are jorts…….and i am not ashamed of it

i’m still waiting, but no reply, to this request for an explanation of why all the fat. Nothin.

i am also having a good hair day. i’m 0 for 2

i like red licorice

mr and mrs toad

mr. and mrs. toad
sit under a tree in my back yard
her knees are together, her hands in her lap
and his knees are apart.
i know that he is he and she is she
because of this.
i learned this from the book “Huckleberry Finn,” by Mark Twain.
there isn’t really much else about mr. and mrs. toad to tip you off.
i have to wonder:
is there much of anything about ANY toad to tell you at a glance his or her sexual identity.
all I can say is, thank god we don’t have toad transvestites.
at least………….
i don’t think we do.

In the Now

A friend once gave me a CD that she thought would be helpful. It was called “In the Meantime” and it had a slick R&B groove, with women singing, “in the meantime…..what do ya doo…….” Then, a soulful, hip woman would start out each spoken piece by saying, “In the meantime....” She gave reassurance, encouragement, inspiration, all about what to do with yourself “in the meantime”-- when you are not in a relationship. I’m not saying I did a good job of living it, but I liked the idea. I confess that just recently at dinner with 2 of my girlfriends, one of them was bemoaning the fact that she was still single. We encouraged her to go on a build a happy life for herself “in the meantime” -- which is not really bad advice. But now I see that it missed the real point. 

Yesterday, I had a mini-epiphany. It happened in the bathroom while I was blow-drying my hair. (I get a fair number of epiphanies this way……when the mind is free to wander, I guess).

WHY should we ever live our lives AS IF they are incomplete – as if we are waiting, waiting, for change and just coping and dealing with in the meantime. Why waste one second of life – beautiful life – by thinking it is the next best thing to being there. What an injustice to the hour at hand.

The truth is, we are in the now whether we want to acknowledge it or not.

In the now…. I will choose to be happy.

In the now…..I will appreciate the beauty and the balance of nature.

In the now….I will love.

A Little Bag of Sugar

Have you checked the weight on a small bag of sugar these days? The day of the 5lb bag of sugar has come and gone, my friends. It’s probably the same with flour. Why was I surprised? Why shouldn’t the sugar people follow the lead of the canned vegetable people, the spaghetti sauce people, and the pie filling people. If the milk people join in on this, I tell you I am done. DONE.

All I want to lose is 5 little pounds – the near-equivalent of a small bag of sugar. I need to lose my sugar, Sugar. One little ol’ bag of sugar ought to be easy to let go. But the mysterious code of the ancients that would, once deciphered, allow me to perform the proper spell to banish these pounds forever – it eludes me.

So I’m carrying this damn bag of sugar around my midsection like a freaking badge of middle-agedness. You can fool some-a da people some-a da time, but once you get that bag of sugar going on, you can’t fool nobody.

Redemption

it’s raining, baby
coming down on the roof
like pieces of stone, pieces of gravel
but it’s only water
leaving no proof of the sound
when the sun breaks through
rain
comes and goes again
like a sometimes friend
leave you clean within
it’s redemption

 
          excerpt from the song "Redemption" by Laura Lisbeth

Coffee Days/Daze

Saturday mornings in the Summer are so precious. If you don’t get up early, you miss them altogether. On these mornings, we must always make a trip to City Market – where there is a huge farmer’s market - plus all of the regular stores there ply their wares out on the sidewalk. Tim likes to go because he is embracing fresh produce with a passion, which is fine by me. I likes me a good fresh tomato.



It began in early spring, when the market was only offering lettuces, spinach, asparagus, peas, and flowers - tons of flowers. Nowadays, it is bursting with tomatoes, potatoes, onions, corn, and berries. And always the Amish are there, with their delicious breads. I asked two Amish girls today, “do you just eat the bread as soon as it comes out of the oven?” They laughed and said they are kind of over it, since they see it so much.


If you don’t get to the market early, parking is a challenge, and Tim is a warrior. But most Saturdays this isn’t a problem because before I have finished one single cup of life-giving coffee, Tim comes in and is ready to go. He’s very kind... he never presses me. But I am aware of the fact that the parking will be horrible, the sun will be blazing and the crowd will be crowdier if I fool around too long. So usually, I am in a sleepy fog when we go.


Even though I love fresh vegetables, it’s not the reason I forsake coffee and couch and go to the City Market. It is because it’s a feast for the eyes, the nose and the soul. People, people, people, of all kinds. Musicians with their flutes, or trumpets or violins. An occasional clown. A balloon guy. The smell of fresh onions, melons. Families working the booths. The enticing, exotic spices being sold outside of Al-Habashi House, where you can get a scoop of just about any kind of spice imaginable for a dollar, or freshly baked pita bread. They also sell loose-leaf teas. Or you can go into the Italian grocery and look at the barrel of (disgusting) octopus salad! Or buy a grilled Italian sausage and sit outside and eat it. We always talk about doing this but we haven’t yet. Tim says he just would feel too guilty – they are huge and fattening.


After we have checked out everything, we head back to our car and home, where I can continue my weekend morning coffee ritual. As we were driving home this morning, we were talking about the teas and spices. They had hibiscus flowers and Tim said he had seen something on Food Network about making tea from them. All of the teas fascinated me, but I’m just not ready for them yet. I said, “I should start drinking tea, I guess. But I’m just not ready. I’m still in my coffee days.” And so I am.

The Importance of Books

hidden under cover of cloth and board
secreted away within the paper and text
a man can have his say
a man can speak his mind
and time stands still
between the covers
unopened for centuries though they may be
the story will wait
for one determined reader