For now

I know what I want, I know what I have, and I am not uphappy with either of them.

By no means would I ever ask for everything all at once, the complications of getting it would be horrific.

I’d never intentionally cut myself off from what I want either, that would be horrific (although socially acceptable)

I want what I’m ready for.

I’m always getting ready for more, an endless outpouring of happiness and general well being.

There you have it.

Some won’t beleive it until it’s  said  read out loud.

Thats what I’m aiming for, that’s it.

Its just as simple or complicated as your making it out to be.

Worry not about me, worry not at all about anything because it really is all being taken care of.




The invisible locker again

I’ve had this  reoccurring dream that I’m in high school again and I’m completely forgetting things and messing things up.

Im sure it’s just one of those stress dreams, but sometimes it’s almost funny once I wake up.

This morning, after I messed up my whole school day in my dream, I went to my invisible locker and their was an old man standing right there where my locker is.

“This is awkward” I say to myself.

He asks “What are you doing?” as I began turning the dial to put in my combination.

“Just getting into my locker” I say as if everything’s completely normal, then I have to use the lever that opens the door, and it’s in the same place as his mouth.

I open the door, which kind of unhinged his mouth a little and he starts to get really mad at me.

So I slam the door shut and he’s whole again. I breathe a sigh of relief and exit the building.

Now, I can’t remember if I took the bus to school, drove myself, or walked.

My theory

Early on (I think he was still a student)  Stephen Howking started to form his  theory of everything.

Yes, their is a movie by the same name.

Of course he’s figured out a lot, I think some people have even tried to find a mathematical equation for everything.

There are fascinating people with amazing abilities in their thinking.

I hope they do it out of interest and not an obligation to figure it all out.

I’ve been trying to take it easy on ‘figuring it out’ no matter what the subject is.

Maybe Im forming my own theory of everything?

And part of my theory is that we don’t have to explain everything.

Here i am

I’ve been watching WWII documentaries.

Why I subject myself to this? Really, I can’t put my finger on it.

I have learned I can only take so much before it’s time to stop, reflect, and bring myself back out of that dark and dirty place.

I don’t want it to stick with me, not like the two times I visited the  holocaust museum were it took over a week to bring my brain out of it.

Cruel and terrible don’t do it justice. Soldiers that liberated those camps, who had seen every bit of gore imaginable, still can’t come to terms with it.

So many parts of history I learn about, I want to do something there, to help the people, but it’s long past.

Ive always felt my past lives  include war times, perhaps some part of me was there to help, I know my temperament for injustice pretty well, it doesn’t serve me to well, but hopefully it’s some other folks along the way.

magical dreams

I’m writing with my best friend/dog curled up in my lap. She’s adorable in every way.

I own this quilt full of holes and patches…


It looks great in this picture.

The childhood blanket I kept for so long.

It’s fascinating with the stitches done by hand. Where it came from and who made it have never mattered to me.

I became the guardian or protector of this thing.

A relic of my past.

I’ve been thinking about cutting it into 3rds.

One for me, one for Brodi, and one for Dalton, it’ll have to be mixed into 3 new quilts of course, and my portion will have to be worked into an even bigger blanket since I have to share with Adam.

A rather silly side note; me and Adam woke up in some magical cuddle position that neither one of us wanted to break.

Eventually I broke it to look after the little ones, but when I did I accidentally left behind the stuffed animal I was holding tight all night.

I have four of them, one big pig, one little pig, one big Mickey, and one little Micky.

When I really long for someone to hold but there’s no one, I’ll grab them.

I didn’t realize I did this, my grip was on the big pig until I jumped out of bed.

Adam said in a defeated voice;

“Really, you’ve been cuddling with him this whole time?”

I shrugged it off and went on…

Stuffed animals and magical blankets are what my dreams are made of.

Im no longer accepting anything less.

So there.



More cuddles


Tonight my arm got stuck under two bundles of absolute cuteness.

It’s funny how they interact, when Pickles was just a scared lil baby pig Abbie was there with all her protective mother instincts.

I’d try to distract her or soothe her in some way but she just wouldn’t have it, it resulted in my poor dog having that look about her, that one that new parents often have when they’ve only slept one hour the past two days.

Mothers in the animal kingdom can be pretty remarkable. Abbie had two liters of puppies before she came here to live.

Now they’re more like brother and sister. They race each other to the door, or to the food bowls.

They forgive each others transgressions almost immediately, and the best part of winter is that they both come in so cold that they’re willing to cuddle up into one big pile. Me and/or Brodi are always sure to join.

B and Pickles have really bonded well, Dalton and Abbie have really bonded, she always want me first, Daltons her second pick, she insist he acknowledges her when he gets home from school.

Im thankful  for all of the, the whole combination that are here in this house.


Animal babies

Cuddles with my lil piggy Pickles has become a nightly ritual and I love it. He’s a cute animal baby.

His latest thing is to walk up to the Christmas tree and just hold a branch in his mouth. He doesn’t eat it or harm it. I think he’s trying to play tricks on us.

He loves to cuddled so much he’ll bite your pants or shoe strings and attempt to drag you to his spot, it’s pretty irresistible.

He settles in pretty quickly, unless he has to rearrange the blanket. Then lil baby Abby comes along, she has to make a couple circles before she curls up, like most dogs.

Her circles seem to always include stepping on Mr. Pickles several times, but all he does is grunt about it, and she looks at you with those big shiny puppy dog eyes, just for safety measures, and I reassure her that she’s a beautiful lil lady, and all is well.

Thoughts on Christmas

Last weekend I was with Brodi at the mall, he’s 9 years old, he’s extra small compared to other 9 year olds, both my kids are like that.

But he’s smarter than most 9 year old also, we were standing near the mall Santa marveling at the enormous Christmas tree.

Kids are hopping on Santas lap and B says “I never want to do that!”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Santas scary, I know he’s not real, but still, he’s scary.”

“I was terrified of him too, until I was about your age. No one taught me to beleive in him, but they also never mentioned that he’s just a guy dressed up in a suit.”

Brodi found that kind of funny.


Something else about Christmas that’s crossed my mind is the virgin birth of Jesus, I mean, that’s what we’re supposed to be celebrating but…

It feels like saying Mary was a virgin, and so it’s a miracle that he was born kind of takes away from the miricle of life to begin with.

If you look into how the baby develops and everything, it really is a miracle, it’s impressive, that a man and women can “you know” and it produces an entire new life.

And that in the beginning of the Bible, after God creates  Eve he told them “be fruitful and fill the Earth”

Were we put here to do just that, to bring new life into this world, and it was done the same miraculous way up until Mary.

Perhaps all births are a divine miracle, but I’m not trying to change people’s minds or anything, I just feel like I have a greater appreciation for new life being produced. Babies are special.


Less thinky; I’m happily attempting to make some home made gifts, I haven’t really tried to hard for several years, but I’m starting to learn that I can make things more fun for myself, Christmas has always felt like a confusing time to say the least.

Thats all for tonight, I have gifts to make!

An inspiration


I’ve been inspired by a man named Wallace Hartley, most people have no idea why or who he is.

I’ve written about him in the past, but here’s a crash course:

-he was musician, he lead the group that played songs on the Titanic.

-he was also a leader over all, people turned to him for help with their spiritual problems also, he had a very strong faith in God.

-he had  premonitions of being in a sinking ship, he told his closest friend about them.

-he made up his mind ahead of time to play “Nearer My God to Thee” as he went down with the ship, he knew it would likely be his final performance, and the last song many people might hear.

– “Nearer My God to Thee” was fitting for the situation, although it was not on the Titanics ‘playlist’

– When it became to difficult to play he tied his violin to his body, it was later recovered along with his body after the wreck.

– most people think that the musicians were ‘ordered’ to continue playing by the captain, but they were not. While they were hired to play on the Titanic they were not employees of the White Star company and were viewed and treated like passengers.

-the musicians chose to play instead of fighting over life boats

So, now that your caught up, I can’t tell you how much I’d love to see that violin in person, to know that the last song played on it was such a moving one.

On Saturday the tattoo artist I chose for this special project of mine started the tattoo, it’s my way of paying my respects to Hartley, and his brave sacrifice.

Also to everyone aboard the Titanic. It doesn’t look like much at the moment, but I’ll explain; their are two violins, one on my left side and one in my right.

Musical notes are bursting out of the violins, the music to “Nearer My God to Thee”, their are also huge waves bursting out of the violins, and where it meets on my back there is a worn out looking red flag with a white star on it, a flag that would’ve been flying on the Titanic.

Right now however it’s just the outline, in January we’ll start working on it again.

It’s a huge tattoo and pretty much everyone has said I’m crazy when they see it. (It got a lot of attention at the tattoo shop) but it seemed like they meant it in a respectful way, the owner even stopped me before I left because he wanted to shake my hand.

But I’m not crazy, it’s the most thought and consideration I’ve put into any tattoo, and I’m by far not a show off when it comes to this because I prefer to always be fully clothed in front of people.

R.I.P. Wallace Hartley

When something is lost

Theory of lost items;

When something is lost and you know right where you put it, exactly where it should be, but then it’s vanished with no explanation it is so frustrating.

Usually, most people will go through great efforts to find the lost item to no avail.

Their minds race a little bit, and they might say or think something that goes like this;

“Where is it? I can’t find it, I put it RIGHT THERE and now it’s gone. I need it and I can’t find. It must be lost.”

If you do that long enough there is a chance you might find it, but your more likely to give up.

Here’s the thing that gets in your way, your mind is saying it’s lost and cannot be found, and your putting off that vibration about the item your searching for, so it continues to be lost.

It could be right in front of you and you won’t see it, you could run your hands right over top of it and you won’t feel it, you’ll swear you know where it is and it just won’t show up.

Eventually it’s out of your mind and your going about a completely different task when you find that lost item, and most likely in a place you already searched.

The reason you see it now, or feel it now is that you’ve stopped that vibration and train of thought that said it was lost.

Thats my theory so far; but just a little extra info relating to this;

I don’t mind cleaning when I’m angry, it allows be to burn out that anger in a harmless way, but I’ve learned not to rip apart my closet and reorganize it because it was a mess that was driving me crazy.

Same with book shelfs, or the junk drawer, or a stack of bills or papers to be filed.

I don’t do those jobs when I’m in a bad mood because I won’t remember where I put anything later on.

When I’m in a good mood to organize and it’s not bothering me, that’s when I do those jobs.

On thanksgiving I had the mass of half organized papers on my coffee table, I shoveled them all up and put them in an empty cabinet.

I do not recommend this; in fact I don’t think you should even be embarrassed about that sort of mess, just leave it.

You know I just put myself a month behind because I was worried about what people might think of my messy coffee table, which is silly, but that moment it was the thing I did without even thinking.