Tag Archives: postaday

This old chiar

This chair
just a simple gliding rocker.
It is showing it’s age,
with worn upholstery, and
a bit of a squeak when slowly rocking.
This chair has seen me through much of life.
The ex argued when my heart was set on getting it,
he preferred leather.
I won that round.

It sat in the sunny window
in the family home.
A place of respite,
in between lesson plans
and dinner plans
with busy boys.
I sat, rocking, waiting for a son to meet his curfew.
On another sweaty summer evening,
I prayed from that chair long into the night
when one drove over the pass,
and was very late coming in
(cell phone do not work in the mountains).

I worried there over my certification exam.
I prayed there for my coming granddaughter,
and later rocked her to sleep there.
We read many a story in that rocker,
with her sitting only briefly in my lap,
then sliding down, but not away,
as the story still intrigued her

When My marriage was ending,
I cried many  nights in that chair, the slow rocking motion soothing to my troubled heart.
Upon moving to a new home, I immediately sought out and sat in that rocking chair,
an effort to make the new place feel more like home.
It eventually did.
I began to dream again,
as I watched the seasons pass,
punctuated by bird song from trees just outside.
Color returned slowly to my world.
Seasons passed, with color and
life began to feel more vivid.
Early  morning coffee and a brightly colored journal became my friend as I slowly rocked,
wrapped in a blanket
I felt warmed by the blanket and coffee
soothed by the rocking.

I ran of toward life,
the chair had to visit the storage unit for a season.
I sat in other chairs,
stylish chairs,
comfortable sofas;
yet none felt as comforting or comfortable.

Two moves later, I rediscover my old friend,
the gliding Rocker!

This chair,
this chair has seen me through alot of life.
And here I sit
Rocking slowly
listening, with a smile
to the melodic squeak.


Tunnel vision, a daily prompt

The Daily Prompt: Tunnel Vision

You’ve been given the ability to build a magical tunnel that will quickly and secretly connect your home with the location of your choice — anywhere on Earth. Where’s the other end of your tunnel?

For me, a quiet place near the ocean. Trees would be involved, mainly to hold my mesh-like hammock (softness is required). I think I would love to have vintage type shelving nestled in the hidden recesses of tall, leafy trees. Here would my reading books and scrapbooks of family photos.
On a rising dune in walking distance would be a home with floor to ceiling windows facing the ocean, which would house my extended family when they choose to visit. Within this home would be the comforts of a fireplace, fleece blankets to curl up with on cool evenings, o and Andirondek chairs on the wrap around porch and of course a lovely flower garden.


I DSC_1459_edited-1   I remember an old song…

“I love to go a wandering

along the mountain trek,

And as I go, I love to sing

with backpack on my back”


We used to sing that at the top of our lungs as kids. I just remembered it this last weekend as R. and I went up a forestry service road to an amazing vista! Pictures cannot capture the awesome splendor as I stood in silence and awe. However, here is a picture. May it grant you an awesome sense of wonder.


The softness of the spring air intrigues me. How is it so? The daily drama of spring is unfolding, the days are longer, the colorful blooms open daily. It is so quietly dramatic if I but take a few moments to notice. Slowing my pace has been my goal. I rise before 6 am to walk or ride my bike in the neighborhood, and have welcomed the growing light as dawn comes earlier, the birds are greeting the morning as the neighborhood sleepily yawns it’s way into a new day. It invigorates me


DSC_0764_edited-1 DSC_0208 (2)

Beauty in the middle of mundane.

The roses have graced my table since Valentines, and even in the dying, their aroma lingers. The tips are tinged with black, yet the velvet deep red continues to radiate a quiet, continuous devotion, not unlike the giver. The rain outside my window today kept many indoors, but the coolness bit my cheeks and the quietness rang in my ears.  The rain dripped from my hood… yet tiny buds are pushing their way though dirt. I catch my breath in anticipation of new vibrant beauty in the not so distant future. As I turn toward home, I hear bird song……another the testimony that earth awakens.

Tell us about the time you threw down the gauntlet and drew the proverbial line in the sand by giving someone an ultimatum. If you’ve never handed out an ultimatum but secretly wanted to, describe the scene and what you would say to put an end (one way or another) to an untenable situation.


   I don’t  have to think too long or hard about this one..it could be a work situation or it could be telling off my ex….Hmmm…

   let me choose…

A small room, with every corner and nook filled with colorful therapy equipment. Therapy to sooth soreness or to restore functional mobility. A place of hard work, but hopeful results., a place that confronts fears and dis ability, but also is full of options and choices.

  I love the possibilities here, a place to work hard, to strain to become….but it is becoming a place of watchfulness over details and schedules, endless typing and placement of right wording; Why?

   Why does corporate get to interfere with potential? is it not enough that people come, looking for hope. I want to offer unbridled hope, enthusiastic encouragement. But the joy is being stifled, hidden behind my obligations. I feel I am being Peered at through judging eyes of one in authority, who sweeps in with a perfumed sweetness that leaves  an odor of unmet expectation.

“Why are you..?”  “Where is….?”  “Have you considered…?” “But the expectation is…?”  Innocent sounding phrases, but accompanied with the endlessly peering eyes watching for a mis-step, a wrong, a slow response. This endless watching, seemingly harmless “walk throughs” that turn into inquisition.


   So where is My right to be treated with respect? Why should I wither under the peering eyes that look a bit too long for crumbs and details to point out as weakness.

Is this your weakness or mine? why do I feel it is mine when others have not said these things

It is done…I walk and you lose


26 heartbeats before she could hear her own thoughts.

What was it that he said? She recounted in her head the number of times that he said he would be there, and now the message on her cell reflected another promise broken. The time was 4:26 and they were to have met for coffee half an hour ago to catch up on the days since they were last together. Her heart froze as she read his words, “working late, I have 126 emails to catch up on before the big meeting tomorrow”. She kicked off her shoes…they hurt her feet anyway,. Reaching for the soft afgan, she settled into the sofa with a sigh. She opened her book to page 226 to continue reading the science fiction book he had given her for her 26th birthday . She was sure they would have a animated conversation when next they spoke

Daily Prompt


Not the color of the rainbow, exactly, but all the colors are here. Look closely. This is a special gift from a special friend upon return from a sunnier climate. I had asked for the gift of “more sunshine” and this is what was brought to me. Where I live is often gray and drizzly…and we often can gripe about that. However….when the SUN comes out, we are a happy lot…doing sunshine dances and grinning from ear to ear. I am one who loves the sun. When it makes it’s appearances, I am one happy girl.