Totally Wordless Wednesday: Pure Ivory, A Virtuous Lily

Pure Ivory, A Virtuous LilyWhite Calla Lily close upPhoto Credit:
Princess Rosebud @Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

Daily Prompt: If You Leave

http://www.brainlesstales.com/2010-11-23/fork-in-the-road
http://www.brainlesstales.com/2010-11-23/fork-in-the-road

“Should I stay or should I go now…”

Aren’t those the lyrics to a song? I think so; and I’ll search for it in a minute. (Oh yeah, it’s the Clash. It’s really about a relationship, but still slightly relevant.)

I’m not often prompted to follow the prompt of a Daily Prompt, but this one spoke to me because I’m at a crossroads — in the midst of a decision to stay or go…

…to the BlogHer Conference in July in San Jose.

I bought my pass the first day it was announced so I received an Early Bird discount and I have a Southwest ticket I need to use since it’s already paid for, but I’m not sure if I want to go.

I’m not sure what I’ll find there or if it’s worth it to attend.

In the beginning of my blogging journey, I was a newbie; gung-ho to write and purge and acquire readers and followers and belong to groups that seemed to be JUST LIKE ME.

Then I realized that I don’t really fit in.

THERE IS NO ONE JUST LIKE ME.

I am unique.

Except for the animal loving, pet picture sharing, SAHM, love-to-shop crowd, I don’t have a whole lot in common with other mid-lifers.

For example, I don’t feel like sharing in great detail how my eyes are failing me, my cholesterol levels are high, or my vaginal dryness is preventing me from enjoying the penis of my choice.

I am by nature a private person and don’t feel the need to overshare on social media, plus my tugboat man hub won’t even let me take a pic of his face OR use our real names.

I don’t and never have had hot flashes, I work out at the gym pretty much every day, and I have the agility and flexibility of a twenty-year-old — one who isn’t stuck to her iPhone 24/7.

For the record, I have great cholesterol levels, I’ve always worn glasses or contacts so nothing new there to complain about, and the only meds I take on a regular basis is Levoxyl for a slightly low performing thyroid.

I thought I could make a go of monetizing my blog, but I don’t really think most BRANDS find me representative of any demographic, so there goes that dream. I don’t have a lot brand loyalty (just Chanel haha).

Except for occasional retail therapy/shopaholic excursions, I’m a pretty thrifty gal, grow our own veggies, bake from scratch, and I drive a thirty-year-old vehicle.

What’s the point of going to a blogging conference?

The other attendees include women whom I naively thought were going to be part of a joyous and nurturing community of other writer/bloggers –but are really just midlife mean girls.

There’s a level of snarky schadenfreude competitive behavior that is very distasteful; not what I expected.

There are more and more female bloggers grasping for whatever dollars are out there, a huge pool of women jumping up and down, shouting “choose me, choose me!”, vying to be the wittiest, most outrageous, “Most Likely To Go Viral” and thereby fight their way to the top of the heap.

I didn’t hang with those girls in high school and I don’t find any kinship there now.

That’s not me.

This isn’t to say that I haven’t met some remarkable women that I totes respect and like and would love to hang with — and you know who you are…BUT I’m in the middle of a crossroads now.

So, do I stay or do I go?

As you can surmise, I’m a bit saddened and disenchanted.

My motivation to begin blogging was fueled by my DIL who told me I was funny and a good writer and I should  blog for exposure in that realm — to earn an income  by writing, something I could do from home while my tugboat man is out to sea for months at a time.

It sounded like a great idea, and a blogging conference seemed like a great opportunity to expand my knowledge and meet INDUSTRY EXPERTS, but now I just don’t know. I don’t seem to have the skills to crack the code. I’ve consulted with a couple of blogexperts and they both told me a blog needs a million views to be competitive. WTF? I thought my nearly 70,000 74,000 was pretty spectacular but I was wrong. Obviously.

Am I just scared to go by myself? Am I full of sour grapes?

What do YOU think? Should I stay or should I go?

http://youtu.be/GqH21LEmfbQ

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Daily Prompt: If You Leave

by Krista on March 12, 2014

Life is a series of beginnings and endings. We leave one job to start another; we quit cities, countries, or continents for a fresh start; we leave lovers and begin new relationships. What was the last thing you contemplated leaving? What were the pros and cons? Have you made up your mind? What will you choose?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us CROSSROADS.

by Krista on March 12, 2014

Life is a series of beginnings and endings. We leave one job to start another; we quit cities, countries, or continents for a fresh start; we leave lovers and begin new relationships. What was the last thing you contemplated leaving? What were the pros and cons? Have you made up your mind? What will you choose?

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. Black-and-white mood | The Bliss of Reality
  2. Electric pole | Vintage Photography
  3. 1973 – Volkswagen Beetle | The Bliss of Reality
  4. 1970 – Volkswagen Beetle | The Bliss of Reality
  5. Night is young | Perspectives on life, universe and everything
  6. Crossing | Perspectives on life, universe and everything
  7. 1969 – Volvo 142 | The Bliss of Reality
  8. Tetris | Crazy Art
  9. Daily Prompt: If You Leave -Living Simple Life and the Obstacle | Journeyman
  10. Droplet from water tap explaining to its brothers and sisters structure of the world ocean | Crazy Art
  11. Leaving for the Normal | Mara Eastern’s Personal Blog
  12. Daily Prompt & The Button (short story) | The Jittery Goat
  13. Dp Daily Prompt: If You Leave | Sabethville
  14. of last straws | Anawnimiss
  15. dulu dan nanti | The Frozen Tears
  16. Leaving | Attempted Human Relations and Self
  17. I’ve Had Enough of This Utah Place
  18. Daily Prompt: Break Ups | Cabernet In The Dark
  19. I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  20. Beyond the horizon | MC’s Whispers
  21. Who Really DECIDES? | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
  22. Harry Potter, Famous Dads and Stoke Newington | AS I PLEASE
  23. Dear John: a fictional letter | ALIEN AURA’S BlOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
  24. Daily Prompt: Leave an old and start a new! Can I ? | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
  25. Selbstständigkeit versus Festanstellung | Zeitarbeiterin
  26. when love appeared in a yellow brick road | kaleidoscope sparks of defiance
  27. DP: Leaving – Autumn by Ruswa Fatehpuri | aliabbasali
  28. We Gathered Yesterday | Exploratorius
  29. Daily Prompt: If You Leave « Mama Bear Musings
  30. Crossroads | Inks and Scribbles
  31. A Letter To Say Goodbye | The Magic Black Book
  32. Too literal? Maybe, but I like the image…! | thoughtsofrkh
  33. Heartbreak | Flowers and Breezes
  34. COLORS AT THE CROSSROAD | SERENDIPITY
  35. Leaving Pittsburgh
  36. Daily Prompt: Why leaving a mouse is never easy | Blogizing
  37. I Give Up | The Zombies Ate My Brains
  38. Daily Prompt: March 12 | Balmy Life
  39. Remember where you came from… | Rima Hassan
  40. Contemplation | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
  41. Going on a break | Eclecticfemale’s Blog
  42. Daily Prompt: If You Leave | Awl and Scribe
  43. Leaving on a Jet Plane . . . | meanderedwanderings
  44. Daily Prompt: Crossroads | A Day In The Life
  45. Daily Prompt: If You Leave | Finding Life
  46. The Final Goodbye | Parents Are People Too
  47. 412 | mesardonicmesarcastic
 

Happy New Year! 2013 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 48,000 times in 2013. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 18 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Best Christmas Decorations EVER-Haters, Line Up! Yoo Hoo, Pinterest, I’m Calling YOU!

 I hope you enjoy a repeat of one of my most clicked on posts of 2012 while I spend a little time with my tugboat man and my son, Angel Boy.
…..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     

It was last year that I was inspired by other topnotch decorators who so kindly blogged about their DIY Christmas tree masterpieces.

In fact, I was so inspired and so thrilled to be stuck here all alone for the millionth time during the holidays that I created a masterpiece of my own, just for you, my loving internet family.

As I looked around my house, the elliptical seemed like it had the best “bones” to adorn.

Plus, it had a ready-made beverage holder!

I didn’t have any Maxi-pads or other feminine hygiene products–’cos THAT ship has sailed–if you know what I mean. (Hey cool, a nautical reference jauntily tossed in. Damn, I’m good!)

I added a toilet paper garland, a couple of Sophie Kinsella novels, two glittery seashell ornaments, a bottle of wine in the beverage holder, a white plastic poinsettia, a few EMPTY gift bags, and a festive plush Hello Kitty toy.

You can’t really see it very good, but there’s a chocolate bar too, which I don’t have to share with anyone! I’m such a lucky girl! This is the best use I’ve found for the elliptical. Hanging freshly ironed shirts hanging on it is a close second.

Now you can carry on with your day; just take a moment to let it all sink in.

The moral of the story is that it might not be a good idea to leave Princes Rosebud alone for long periods of time.

Don’t HATE…Emulate.

Decorated for Christmas elliptical

Property of Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

decorated elliptical

Property of Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

Beachy December Festival of Light and Color: Photos

Even though it’s the beginning of December and was the fifth night of Hannukah, here in Southern California we enjoyed a brief summery Sunday before a massive winter storm barrels down the coast from Alaska.

A late afternoon beach walk in Carlsbad with my tugboat man…magnificent sunset, boats, seagulls flying home. Not such big waves though, or he’d be surfing and not walking!

Maybe that’s why I get so excited for the WordPress snow to appear.

It’s the only snow I see unless we go skiing!

These photos have not been retouched. This is exactly what it looked like. AMAZING, right?

Decsunset6

Decsunset1 Decsunset2 Decsunset3 Decsunset4 Decsunset5 Decsunset7Decbirds

A Sure-Fire Cure for the UnFreshly Pressed Blues

Dear WordPress, What Am I, Chopped Liver? received  a lot of views and commentary, and for that, I’m grateful.

I think that my slighly whiny, sour grap-y, mini-chip-on-my-shoulder rant resonated with the great un-Pressed in our blogging community.

A wise and wonderful new friend who blogs at SERENDIPITY Marilyn Armstrong -Seeking Intelligent Life on Earthused her magic fingers and creative mind to design an award that I’m ecstatic to be able to share with those I deem worthy, and that’s mostly EVERYBODY.

Read her post: Not So Freshly Pressed? Help is on the Way for more details.

I’m hopeful that we can start the ball rolling until everyone — everywhere — will feel appreciated and special!

The simple beauty of this award is that you don’t have to perform any task or answer any questions; YOU ARE SPECIAL JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE, and I like that a lot!

Please pass it on and share the love but…here’s a reminder from the creator of this award:

You can accept this and you do NOT have to give it to anyone else unless you want to. You can also do it eventually, when you have time. Don’t get stressed over it.  :-)


Here ya go for my first group of deserving bloogers.
I won’t stop until everyone is a recipient and we all feel like a winner.

 

Serendipity: http://teepee12.com
The Fur Files http://thefurfiles.com
She Walks Softly  http://wp.me/pfQBz-5wF
Our Growing Paynes http://wp.me/p2GO4t-va
Michelle at Play  http://wp.me/p1UOvK-2ac
Benzeknees  http://wp.me/p21uAA-WE
The Presents of Presence
Cowboys and Crossbones  http://cowboysandcrossbones.wordpress.com
Thematticuskingdom  http://wp.me/p2DEqM-Am
sagedoyle

YOU ARE A WINNER

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

Stop Wolf Hunts Now

“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.”
Ghandi

Related articles

Dear WordPress…What Am I, CHOPPED LIVER?

What am I, chopped liver?When I was little Princess Rosebud growing up in Detroit,  my mom used to be the Queen of chopped liver.

At Channukah and Sukkos and the High Holidays, our family would come from miles around to chow down on her spectacular cooking and baking, including that tasty, albeit ugly, liver-y creation. Even a sprinkling of chopped hardboiled egg and parsley couldn’t mask the grey/brown blob of mushed up, mashed up internal organ.

Oh, and gribones, which is an artery clogging mixture of fried chicken skins, onions, and schmaltz, which is chicken FAT. Rendered chicken fat. Jars of it in the back of the refrigerator. GAG.

According to Wiki: The word gribenes is related to Griebe (plural Grieben) in various German dialects (from Old High German griobo via Middle High German griebe),[2] where Griebenschmalz is lard from which the cracklings have not been removed. German “Geriebenes” is a matter which has been grated or ground, from German “reiben”, to grind.

No wonder I became a veg.

schroncefgsula.blogspot.com

schroncefgsula.blogspot.com

I’ve been a vegetarian since 1971, when I was still in high school. I haven’t had a taste or even a morsel of meat nor fowl since then, including the liver, chopped or otherwise, of any living creature.

Why the chopped liver memories?

For the longest time, I’ve felt like I’m the human embodiment of chopped liver, ‘cos it seems that I’m the ONLY blog in the entire family of WordPress blogs that hasn’t ever been chosen to be Freshly Pressed.

I’m very sad.

I read a lot of Freshly Pressed posts, and I ponder.

I scratch my head —  and it’s not that I begrudge the recipients who’re chosen, but I’ve held an objective mirror up to my writing and my subject matter and my unique voice, and I truly believe it’s GOOD. In some cases, way better than the lucky bloggers who can boast of being Freshly Pressed.

Lots of people tell me I’m good. Even my son tells me I’m a good writer and he’s pretty stingy with his compliments, which make them all the more valuable — plus he’s a Yale professor AND author, so I take his praise with more than a few grains of salt.

I’ve had readers wonder why they don’t see me in Freshly Pressed, when other bloggers have had multiple posts chosen.

In my not-really-humble opinion, It’s a travesty.

On a serious note, it reeks of favoritism and might as well be advertising and promotion for ONE blogger at the expense of many other worthy writers.

There. I’m finished now.

That’s my Friday rant.

Tonight I’ll light some shabbat candles and wish really hard that one day SOON, I can proudly display a Freshly Pressed badge on my blog.

Dreams CAN come true, ya know.

Hello? WordPress? Can you hear me??

Can you hear me NOW?

What I Do is What I Do. A Day in the Life of an Empty Nester.

(With a very obscure tip of the hat to Solzhenitsyn.)

This isn’t typical of when my tugboat man’s here, and most definitely not the fabric of my waking hours when I was a SAHM; rather, this is an especially bland and Seinfeld-ish day. 
_____________________________________________________________________________

My day commences abruptly at 6:00 a.m.

Sleep to instant wakefulness at the hoarse, screaming kee-eeee-arr of a red-tailed hawk.

Over and over again. Ear-piercing screams.

I get up, find my glasses (I’m extremely myopic, can’t see a thing), locate hub’s extra binoculars, and discover two hawks in the eucalyptus tree. They’re sitting on the same branch and they’re facing each other, having an early morning conversation or a duet, probably courtship time.

6:15 a.m…Grind beans, Trader Joes‘s French Roast, make coffee, simultaneously grab the remote to turn on the news and pop open my laptop. News is depressing. Problems in Syria, fires in Yosemite, a SWAT standoff in La Mesa; time to turn it off. After checking to see if my tugboat man emailed me (he didn’t),  I turn to WordPress.  A few comments necessitate responses (not as many as I’d like), a few likes (not as many as I thought my brilliant post deserved), and then I switch over to Facebook. In the beginning of FB, or at least my experience with FB, it was all about connecting with new and old friends, sarcastic and funny observations, cats, dogs, mainly cute animal pics. Now it’s all about supporting “friends” in their sponsored posts, marketing and promoting for their sponsors. I don’t begrudge anyone who can generate income; it’s just that some blogs start to feel really corporate and inauthentic after they become “affiliates” or “brand ambassadors”. It’s a newer version of Tupperware or jewelry parties where you get all your friends to show up and buy your stuff.

Of course I’d love to monetize — I’ve even had one sponsored post — and I want my book to be published and make a truckload of money so that my tugboat man wouldn’t have to go out to sea anymore, but I don’t think I have the personality to push products or pull people to my site –which is funny ‘cos I have a background in public relations and marketing — but I’m more of a soft sell, not the jackhammer-type.

I’m more like “Hey, I’d love for you to come by if you have the time and no pressure or anything. No worries if you can’t, I understand.”

I check Twitter too, but it’s kinda lost its appeal for me at the moment.

7:00 a.m…Paid a couple of bills online; mortgage and credit card. Checked TMZ but it’s all Kardashian-this, Kardashian-that, and I’m sooo over it. I hear the squawk of our resident scrub jays, throw a few raw nuts on the deck and watch them eat.scrubjay

7:20 a.m….After a couple cups of black coffee (the only way I drink it),  I start to get ready for the gym, but first I make the bed and wash whatever dishes I didn’t do the previous evening. I don’t eat breakfast on a regular basis; sometimes I’ll have a little protein drink, or a couple bites of toast, but I don’t really like to eat in the morning, unlike hub, who’s up and chewing before his eyes are completely open.

7:35 a.m…Check email again. Yay, a brief message from hub. All the last minute work was completed on the tug, they’re underway and are offshore. Everything is going fine, which is good to hear. I write him back and tell him about my boring weekend without him; how I went for a six-mile walk to the beach and back, gardened, washed the windows, boring, boring, boring, oh, but I heard a coyote and an owl, so there’s that.

7:55 a.m…Get dressed; black workout pants, yellow Zella top. Brush teeth, use Clarisonic to wash my face, apply light makeup — just eyebrows, liner, lipstick, spray perfume –Chance by Chanel (of course). Fill a water bottle, grab an apple for after Boot Camp.

8:30 a.m…Publish the post I wrote the previous evening. I try to stay one or two days ahead.

8:35 a.m…Head out. Water a few plants near the front door; take the trash cans out to the street (something else I have to do when hub is gone).

8:45 a.m…The 24-Hour Fitness I go to is about three miles away, but up a huge and long incline or I’d ride my bicycle. Sometimes I get lucky and get all green lights; today was one of those days, yay!

10:10 a.m…Back in my car after a strenuous workout with a zillion tabatas to exhaustion. Squats, lunges, box jumps, weights, jumping jacks. I still can’t do any real weight bearing exercises, so no pushups yet or plank. If I wear my cast/brace, I can lift five pounds in my left hand while I lift ten with my right. Eat the apple, need nourishment for a little retail therapy hee hee. Oh NO! I almost forgot I had an 11:15 a.m. physical therapy appointment for my almost healed broken wrist. No time to shop now, darn. I’ll have to run home and shower.

11:00 a.m…Made a fast smoothie including yogurt, banana, chia seed, wheat grass, protein powder, and frozen loquats and mulberries from the garden. Showered, threw on a maxi dress, and out the door to Encinitas. Hope there’s no traffic or I’ll be late.

12:30 p.m…Where to go after PT? I drive up Encinitas Blvd. to El Camino Real and you know about Speed Dating? This is speed shopping. I stop at HomeGoods, TJMaxx, Pier One Imports, Anthropologie, Victoria’s Secret, White House, Black Market, and even H&M. This was more of a browsing mission. Nothing really caught my eye; nothing I couldn’t live without, so I came away empty. Plus, I’m out of water and thirsty. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow :)

3:00 p.m…Back home, and NOW I’m starving. Time for hummus with Ak-Mak crackers and a veggie wrap. (Lettuce, tomato, feta cheese, cucumber, raisins rolled up in a tortilla.) Plus ginger tea and a fat-free fig cookie.

3:30 p.m…Check email, WordPress, FB, Twitter. All pretty quiet. No new Miley Cyrus outrageous behavior. Best news of all, the Daily Show’s Jon Stewart is back. Yippee!

4:00 p.m…Work out in the garden since it’s cooled off a bit. Our summer garden was HORRIBLE this year. I’m not sure what caused it, but I pulled everything out and will allow it lay fallow for a bit. I’ll need hub to get more mushroom compost when he returns; in the meantime, I’ll work compost in. Mowed the lawns, front and back. Another job I must do while my tugboat man is away. Take the trash cans back from the street. Had a chat with a nice neighbor who keeps an eye on me while hub’s away.

5:30 p.m…Back in the house, checked email again; this time I discover a message from my tugboat man, letting me know that plans have changed and he won’t be making a port stop in San Diego after all, and he’ll call to explain when he gets in cell range. Oh DARN! I was really looking forward to seeing him, even for only a brief moment. I’m disappointed, but not overly so, things change all the time; I’m inured — accustomed –to fluid situations.
There’s always the possibility things will change back again; I’m a hopeful, glass half full kinda girl.

6:15 p.m…I got so dirty working outside I’ll need to take another shower and wash my hair this time which takes forever — curly hair needs a lot of love…

6:45 p.m…It’s no fun at all preparing and eating food for just me. One really is the loneliest number! I decide to make quinoa and add broccoli so it all cooks together. It’s ready in fifteen minutes, delicious with a dash of Mae Ploy, sweet red chili sauce.

7:30 p.m…Turn on Jeopardy and keep the TV on, mostly not watching it, while I write the next day’s blog and work on my book (yes, I too am writing a novel.)

9:30 p.m. – 10:00 p.m. – ish…Get ready for bed, slather my face with a few layers of anti-aging creams; Retin-A, glycolic acid, brush teeth, pop in my retainer, read for a bit, and fall asleep. Goodnight, y’all.

2:00 a.m…awakened by the plaintive voice of a coyote. It seems very close; just one lonely howl. As long as I’m awake, I might as well use the bathroom and I’m back to sleep in just a few minutes.

That’s my very empty nest day.

“That which we call a ROSE by another other name would smell as sweet.”

Pink rosebudWas I named because of a love for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet?

No.

Was I conceived after a my mom received a dozen roses from my dad?

No.

Was I named after a sled?

No.

Was I named for Rosebud Salve?Rosebud Salve

No, but I have a tin of the sweet stuff, a thoughtful gift from my son.

Where did my name come from?

Following the Jewish tradition of naming children after a deceased relation, I was given my paternal grandmother’s name.

Rosebud was my nickname, and is still used  – infrequently —  because, as I point out, the bloom is off the rose, and I am no longer a bud.

However, I do smell as sweet because I am an anomaly.

I have no body odor.

Never did.

I’ve never used deodorant and have never needed to use it.

It’s true.

Even after working out at the gym during an especially difficult Boot Camp class or after a couple of days hiking on a hot, dirty, dusty trail— I don’t smell bad.

In fact, I smell sweet.

You can ask my tugboat man.

I say, “Smell me, don’t I smell good?”

Laughing, he complies, and says it’s a miracle.

No. I’M the miracle.

“That which we call PRINCESS ROSEBUD by any other name would smell as sweet.”

And I DO.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Romeo and Juliet

In Act II, Scene II of the play, the line is said by Juliet in reference to Romeo’s house, Montague which would imply that his name means nothing and they should be together.

Juliet:

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo:

[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

Juliet:

‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

Romeo:

I take thee at thy word:
Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Daily Prompt: Name that… You!

by michelle w. on September 2, 2013

Do you know the meaning of your name, and why your parents chose it? Do you think it suits you? What about your children’s names?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us IDENTITY.

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. When my granny was young | Bright Moments Catcher
  2. Natalie Elizabeth. | Natalie Elizabeth Beech
  3. S. Thomas Summers | Daily Prompt: Identity
  4. Name that… You! | Geek Ergo Sum
  5. What’s in a Name? « RPMAS
  6. What’s in a Name? | meanderedwanderings
  7. Facebook and Cheap Trick: I’d like you to like me | DCMontreal
  8. There’s no (censored) “D” in my name | thoughtsofrkh
  9. Daily Prompt: The Born Identity | Creative Mysteries
  10. MASIDO | Hellen Masido
  11. Phoneography Weekly: What lies under the bushes | We Live In A Flat
  12. Daily Prompt: Name that…You! « Mama Bear Musings
  13. What’s in a name? | Books, Music, Photography & Movies : my best friends
  14. Daily Prompt: Name that…You | Under the Monkey Tree
  15. daily prompt – what’s in a name? | pork juice & paper towels
  16. Daily Prompt: Name that… You! « Every day adventures in Asia (mostly)
  17. Daily Prompt: Name that… You! Five Js | littlegirlstory
  18. Daily Prompt; Name that..You | terry1954
  19. Daily Prompts | derekalanwilkinson
  20. Daily Prompt: Name that… You! | College Girl Dai
  21. Daily Prompt: Identity – It’s Maryann, Not Maryanne, Not Marianne | IF I ONLY HAD A TIME MACHINE
  22. What’s In A Name? | The Ambitious Drifter
  23. What’s In A Name? Ingredients | Edward Hotspur
  24. What’s in a name? | Hope* the happy hugger
  25. Naming Baby Brother (short fiction) | The Jittery Goat

 

The path (or post) not taken

Dear Darling WordPress,
You lost another post, probably an award-winning post, full of levity and wit and irony, and all the best things in the world rolled into one post. Ahh, such is life….

So, there I was,  in a quandary about what path to take and just like that — click –the old lightbulb snapped on!

Clap on, clap off…cat clap on

I had to THINK which involves a level of introspection that I rarely attain. Here’s my brain on any given day: “…work out, clean, garden, cook, bake, shop, read, shop…”

Rinse and repeat. Deep thoughts? Not so much.

 

As I was looking out our patio doors, I noticed all the different paths in our yard.

Curvy paths of rocksRocks of dry river bed

straight paths of pavers to the pond

pathtopond1 or a meandering path to the greenhouse and beyond

pathtocompost

and the steps that lead you to another level.

steps up yard

I thought about how that’s another one of life’s important lessons.

If one path doesn’t work, you can choose another. And if none of those work, you can change course by moving the rocks or the pavers just a little bit to reflect a different direction or to avoid an obstacle in your way.

It doesn’t really matter where you go, the success is in the path you take to reach your goal or your destination.

Today I wrote about something other than my original idea because WordPress threw up a barricade that blocked my way.

I toyed with the idea of giving up altogether or trying to recreate my initial thoughts, when, for the first time, I became aware of the paths in my yard.

It opened my eyes to a deeper reflection, not unlike the reflection you’d find if you followed the path to the pond and gazed in the water.

So that’s it for my philosophical sputterings, I have no idea what came over me!

Now I have to pack fourteen outfits to accompany hubs to San Francisco for a two-day business meeting. Road trip! And yet another road taken.