Loved

This is how I feel today-
Loved. Worthy. Strong. Held.

I believe.
Thank You Jesus, for everything.
Love, Lolly

(p.s. Lauren Daigle...isn't she great. I love her voice.)

First day

AUGUST 23
The Taste of Sky

 Of magic doors there is this, you do not see them even as you are passing through. —ANONYMOUS 

Often as we are being transformed, we cannot tell what is happening.
For while in the midst of staying afloat, it is next to impossible to see the ocean
we are being carried into.
While struggling with the pain of change, it is often impossible to see
 the new self we are becoming.
While feeling our hand pried loose by experience, we seldom can imagine
what will fill it once it is opened.
As the days rinse our heart, we can feel something unseeable scour us through,
Though we can't yet imagine how much fresher milk and sky and laughter will taste once we are returned to the feel of being new.

*Sit quietly and bring to mind a struggle you are now experiencing in your life. 
*Breathe through this struggle and bless the buried part of you just waiting for 
its turn in the world. 

from The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo
**********************************************

I am not, nor have I ever been, a person who likes change.
Today all of my emotional receptors are askew.
I am weepy and feel at a loss as to what to do with myself.
Truthfully right now I am trying not to outright bawl.
He is eight and started third grade yesterday.
She is five and started kindergarten today.
And I find myself back on my own, alone, after 8 years.
I was ready for my 8 year old grandson to go to school.
For the last two weeks of Summer he has been a royal pain in the butt.
Argumentative, mouthy, not listening, pouting...he about drove me mad.
He was bored most likely.
We had done everything I could think of all Summer long and there was nothing left to do.
I told my husband it felt like we skidded into the end of our Summer sideways with a screech, lurching to a halt only because we were done.
Just completely done with all of the activities.
During the last 4 days of their Summer Break we took these two boating and fishing,  played Mini-golf, ate ice cream, had a sleepover at our house, and took them over to play with their cousins. (our other two grandkids)
Simply put there wasn't anything left for us to do.
So he got bored and cranky, loudly complaining that all he wanted to do was watch Netflix.
She played with her dolls and Barbies and her kitchen, making elaborate meals with plastic pieces of vegetables and fruit, while he sat with a mutinous expression on his face in the recliner and pouted.
I told my husband "I won't cry when HE goes to school".
He was so awful and argumentative and combative that I wanted to give him a good kick in the pants.
On his first day of school, he kissed me good-bye and took off for the playground and his friends without a backward glance.
And that is how it should be.
Since he started yesterday, her and I had one last day together.
So we went grocery shopping and I let her pick out what she wanted for lunch...
Elbow Macaroni and an apple juice box.
This morning she went to school happy and excited. No tears or hanging on.
Which is also as it should be.
I made it back home, and to the Chiropractor and back home again before I started bawling.
My house is just. so. quiet.
I look around and see toys and books and dust bunnies.
I know I have a load of laundry to do and I should really mop the kitchen floor.
But my heart feels sore. I am adrift, with a sense of no purpose today.
So I am going to just let myself feel this sadness.
To allow myself to feel this change and know that it is ok to cry and mourn the passing of time.
I will find my purpose, I will find ground to stand on again but today,
this first day,
I am going to allow myself to feel this and acknowledge what feels to me like a loss.
Later on I will look for my buried self and reclaim my place in the world.
But not today.

Today, on this first full day of school, I will pick them up at 3:30 with a smile on my face, happy to see them both again.
We will come home and have a snack and play outside or maybe ride bikes for a bit.
Then tomorrow we'll do it all over again, and again next week.
And I'll keep doing what must be done despite my sadness or rather in spite of my sadness.
Can I just say eight years flew by!
Hell, for that matter 30 years flew by.
Which reminded me of this little poem-





Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Sloppy Joes

So the grandkids both go back to school next week Thursday.
Today I electronically applied for a job online for the company that
provides the school lunches for our local school district.
Kinda like a Lunch Lady.

They only wanted the last six years of a persons work history.
Well...I've been babysitting for 8 years, so guess what happened?
Yep. Not 10 minutes later, through an email, I was told I did not have enough job experience.

There wasn't any place on this electronic job application to type out reasons
for lack of employment history, or what I've been doing for the last 8 years.

I called my sister and told her that I was sorta bummed that they wrote me off so quickly.
She told me to email them back and explain that I have plenty of experience feeding breakfast and lunch to groups of asshole children who won't finish their plate of food.
Ahahahahaha!!!!
That made me feel better.

Sigh. Looks like this job application thingy might be harder than I thought.
I have no resume and I have not worked in the public sector for 10 years.
What's a body to do???

Think I'll make Sloppy Joes for dinner tonight.

What I know for sure

On Instagram I cry for people I don't know, who I've never met, who live halfway around the world, whose dogs have died.
They share their dogs story and they post their pics- usually just the last pic of them ever with their soulful eyes and gray muzzles and my empathetic hearts breaks. Losing a pet can be so traumatic.

I cried yesterday when I read a sad part in the book I'm reading-The Poisonwood Bible. I love it when a book can take me somewhere else and I don't even realize that I'm gone. This book is based on the Congo. I don't ever want to go there.

I'm married to a passive/aggressive jerk who says mean rotten things to me one minute and in the next minute wants to know what am I thinking about and tries to be funny but he's not.
I don't cry about this but I silently fume and think of ways to get back at him.

If you spray the garden hose straight up into the small clump of trees in your backyard on a day when it is 86 degrees with 80% humidity, the little birds will come and sit on the branches and ruffle their feathers and take a shower right in front of you. And they will sing while they do it.
They will trill for their friends and flap their wings and more birds will show up.
When you finally turn the hose off you can stand there and listen to them chatter with each other  while the sound of the water drips off of the leaves in a lovely pitter/patter sound like rain.

My son and his childhood friend are thinking of moving to Minneapolis/St. Paul Minnesota.
His friend just got a job transfer so they are talking about maybe moving in together.
I'm not sad about this. I'm not thrilled but I'm not sad.
I don't want him 5 hours away but my son does need a change in his life.
He cannot live in his boyhood home forever.
(remind me of this when he leaves and I can't quit crying)
Plus I want his room for my own little nest. I could meditate and breathe and pray up there. It's got a great view of the backyard.

Summer break is almost over.
School starts for both of these grandkids of mine in 10 days.
He will be in third grade. THIRD GRADE!! And she will be in all day Kindergarten.
I've been Nanny/Granny or rather Mommy/Granny for 8 years.
What am I gonna do??? With myself? With my time? Without them here?
THIS makes me cry.

I can't believe I've got to start looking for a part-time job soon.
But I know I cannot sit in this quiet house and do nothing but cry for old dogs and young children going to school or for adult boys moving on and moving out.

Here's something that I do believe though; something that I know for sure-



Also?? This. ↓  This is me too.


(I can't get that little Wordables thing off of the picture I found on Google so just ignore it please.)

Something else I know for sure-
Water is holy whether it's from the hose, the sky, or our tears.
I am crying. I am laughing. I am paying attention.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

A Gardener's work is never done.

So the other day I saw this pic on Instagram of Melania Trump "gardening".
It was 85 degrees Fahrenheit in Washington DC that day.
She was wearing a long sleeved red plaid flannel shirt and skinny pants and her long brown hair was hanging down by her face and down her back, her usual style.
Also, she was wearing a pair of gym shoes that I like to call Chucks.
Pristine Navy with snowy white bottoms; also known as Converse gym shoes.
I did a Google search so I could find that pic to post here on my blog when I stumbled upon this video instead.
At first I didn't realize it was satire.
Once I heard what words the voice over actress was actually saying I laughed my arse off.

The comments about her in this "gardeners outfit" on Instagram were brutal.
Brutal but truthful.
I mean honestly...who gardens in clean new Converse gym shoes?
Nobody, that's who.
One of the commenter's said it best when they said something along the lines of-
Gardeners come in two categories-
They're either bad ass and wear knee socks and tall rain boots
or they're the Earth dwellers, the kind that go barefoot in the dirt trying to connect to nature.
Ding ding ding. That person hit the nail on the head.
What a farce she is. Same fake shit as her spouse.

Today I went out into my own garden to get some weeding done.
The grand kids are on vacation with their parents up north
so I find myself at a loss as to what to do with myself.
I've tried gardening with them here with me, but Alas!
They always want to play in the backyard when I need to garden in the front yard and vice versa.
There's too many mosquito's or it's too hot or there's too much humidity...
uh, yeah, I'll blame that on them too.
Ahem...Anyway...

I was needing to weed a woodsy garden patch out back behind the garage.
No problem, I thought to myself, it won't take me long, it's 74 degrees Fahrenheit but only a little bit humid. It'll be partly shady back there too, I'll be fine.
I'll wear my bad. ass. socks and rain boots, and a long sleeve light weight denim shirt to keep the bug bites to a minimum and my capri's.
And I tied my hair back in a pony tail!!

Half way through with the sweat running in my eyes, it started to get hot. HOT!
My light weight denim shirt all of a sudden felt like a suit of armor.
Even my gardening gloves were making me feel too hot.
I kept going though...at this point I just wanted to finish it.
I felt myself started chuff...like a little bit short of breath. I was feeling light headed too.
I developed a headache and my back was aching from being bent over.
When I finally stood up half the world turned black in my vision and I felt like I was gonna pass out.
Hurry, I told myself.
So I raked the weeds and the sticks and the whatnot into a pile and then stuffed everything into a garden recycling bag.
It took all I had to carry that bag to the curb in front of our house.
By the time I got in the house my heart was banging in my chest.
It felt like a fist was pounding on the wall of my chest. Bam! Bam! Bam!
I grabbed two wash rags out of the linen closet and held them under the kitchen faucet till they were nice and cold, and I grabbed a cold bottle of water out of the fridge and headed to my bedroom.
I turned on the oscillating fan and put one cold rag on the back of my neck and the other I held across my forehead and both temples, I drank as much as that water as I could, then laid down and let the fan cool me off.
My heart was still pounding so hard I even had to take my bra off.
For a split second, I thought of calling the rescue squad.
But I didn't want to get up and put that bra back on, so...
I wasn't in pain, except for the headache but my heart felt like it was for real gonna just pound it's way out of my chest. I started to do my slow meditation breathing... Inhale for a count of 8, then exhale for a count of 10. In and out. In and out.
The fan started cooling me off finally so I sat up and drank more water.
Laid back down again until my heart wasn't pounding so hard, about 15 minutes more.

I realized then that I hadn't eaten any breakfast, only drunk two cups of coffee that morning.
So I ate a yogurt with some granola and drank another bottle of water.
My hair was wrecked from sweating outside and from the wet wash rags being placed on my head and neck.

Now I ask you...how did that woman "garden" with her hair down, and her shirt buttoned up and keep her shoes clean and white? How did she smile at the camera while she did it? How did she not develop fucking heat stroke like I did?

I know it makes me seem like a mean person to hate on her, but C'Mon!!
She wasn't even really gardening! She was posing for the camera!
And now I'm wondering if that Youtube video was really a voice over or maybe it really was her saying those stupid things!  (not really but, still)

Anyway, that title up above is a lie. I am done gardening...at least for today.
I still have the raging headache, so I'm going to hang out in my air conditioning for the rest of today and finish my book in peace and quiet.
Let me know what you think of the Youtube video.
Hopefully you have, and understand, my same sense of warped humor.

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

Still

Still

Grief affects all of us differently
Through the passage of time we can see
Ten years have flown by
And we'll never know why
Still for some there will always be grief.
Of course we still cry, our tears fall like rain
While some are still sad, hiding their pain
Some have grown silent and still like a lake
And others gone mad, grief too hard to take.
I didn’t intend for this to poem to rhyme
It’s just that I’ve noticed with the passing of time
Grief lingers with me...still.

Plain and simple-
I miss you Sister-Friend
8/3/60-8/07/08

Daycation

On Monday we took a day trip and drove up to Devil's Lake Wisconsin to spend the day with our daughter, son-in-law and 4 grand kids.
Devil's Lake is a state park in the town of Baraboo Wisconsin about 25 minutes away from the Wisconsin Dells.
I love, love, love both of these places. The sights, sounds, smells...everything!
I find (or rather I re-find) my Self, my mojo, my equilibrium up here.
The Ho-Chunk/Winnebago Tribe of Native Americans used to call it
  Tawacunchukdah or Sacred Lake, while another tribe called it Minnewaukan,  or Spirit Lake.
Leave it to some jack-ass white man to rename it Devil's Lake.

Every year I tell my husband that we should move up here; that I want to move up here.
I so easily could, as long as all of our kids and grand kids could move with us.

Since it's a 3 hour drive each way, we left at 6:30 in the morning, played and swam and picnicked all day, then headed for home at 4:00pm.
The kids caught buckets full of baby minnows at the shore line while us adults swam in the icy cold and clear-to-the-very-bottom lake.
Every time I swim under the water in that lake I turn around so I am actually looking up through the lake water, where I can then see the beams of the sun shining down on me.
The water muffles the sound of the outside world and the sunbeams glow yellow and green above me.
I float in that holy spirit filled water and feel myself being
                             reborn, rejuvenated, re-invigorated.
I dunk myself again and again, and again...
All the while staring up at the clouds that are drifting overhead, and watching the hawks as they fly high above the pine tree covered bluffs.
It's like a baptism. Every single time.

We fed the kids ice cream and pb&j's, Cheetos's and red grapes, cookies and juice boxes; not necessarily in that order.
And spent way more money than we should have buying junky souvenirs for them to take home.
On the way home we decided to go a different route so we could take them on the Merrimac Ferry.
I remember being 6 years old and my parents taking us on this very same Ferry ride.
Him and I have also ridden this ferry once before when we were out on one of our Harley rides.




Here's a couple of pics we took on our Wisconsin Daycation-

 Patrick and a bucket full of Minnows

 Laney

 Fiona and some random kid

 Charlie

 Devil's Lake

 See the Hawk?

 Merrimac Ferry

Half way across the river


I wished we could have stayed longer.
Tomorrow we are driving to Lake Geneva Wisconsin.
We are taking these two grand kids of ours boating for a few hours.
Hopefully I'll take a few more pictures than I did at Baraboo.
Summer break is quickly coming to an end. These two start school in 20 days.
Where did the time go???

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly

For my fellow pilgrims

WHOLENESS AND BROKENNESS ; A POEMby Jeannie Kendall–

Wholeness and brokenness

can be strangely misleading.

We wear our “wholeness”

like a badge of honor

seldom recognizing

that it is a shield;

our prized invulnerability a mask

deflecting gazes

which we fear

may linger too long

and see what is within.

Yet, if we could but own

our brokenness,

find it held by fellow-pilgrims

as a sacrament;

we may yet discover

that in our fragile, broken selves

we are more whole

than ever we were

hiding behind our strength;

and where we see only fracture

God sees instead

a window

through which

His light and life

may flow.

There's a saying that people often say about there being a light at the end of the tunnel....

Where people say "Hang in there Sweetie. There's a light at the end of the tunnel."

Would it surprise you to find out that this saying aggravates me?

No?  You're not surprised? You know me well.

Listen... Well meaning friends??? Sometimes, that light that you speak of ?

It turns out to be a freight train heading straight for you and there isn't anyway to get out of it's way.

Now, with that in mind...sometimes, yes, there IS  a light at the end of the tunnel, 

but other times there isn't anything at all. Nothing but darkness.

And it's exhausting and scary to feel like you're in that dark, lonely, quiet place. 

Especially since there aren't any instructions or directions to find your way out.

So when I found this picture on Instagram I sent it to myself because it was one of the best sayings I'd ever seen on that subject of finding light at the end of the tunnel.

"I stopped waiting

 for the light at the

 end of the tunnel 

and lit that bitch up myself.

Today I'm thankful and grateful that that place is no longer a place I inhabit or go to or belong.

For those of you still there, still finding your way out...

know this-

I am praying for you...praying that you find that light, praying that you find the torch that will help you light that bitch up, and maybe even along the way you'll realize that the light that you've  been looking for is inside you...

has been inside of you all along. 

It's just waiting for you to strike that match,

 to burn the place down,

 and light up that darkness.

What needs to be set aflame in your life, your heart? 

What spark is God striking in your soul?

 What do you want to say about that to HIM right now?

Let's burn that tunnel down together.  Anybody got a match?  Who's with me?

(And I'm sorry if this post is insensitive to those of you living close to the fire zones. It's just that sometimes the soul just burns, ya know? And fighting fire with fire is sometimes the right course of action. I love you guys...stay safe.)

Thanks for reading,

Love, Lolly