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I admit that when Marcus was a child, the future scared me. A whole lot. In fact, I used to cry on his birthday more out of fear than joy. Seems silly now, it’s just – look at that kid! He was so full of life and I had the devil whispering on my shoulder…
Finally, I woke up and noticed the futility of all those years of asking, “What are you going to do when he grows up?”
I really like cut flowers. We have an agreement. They brighten up the room. I often give them fresh water. Eventually, they wilt and brown, then I toss them into the backyard. Rabbits eat them. They decompose. It’s the circle of life.
With living plants, the agreement should be different. But for whatever reason, under my supervision, they often don’t thrive. After I’ve failed them, I take the poor thing to someone with more plant talent than I and hand them over to a new home in personal defeat. Most of
Happy February! Let me just start by saying if February goes by as quickly as January did, this is going to be the shortest year on record.
What?
(Checks notes)
SO, it appears there are actually fewer days in February than January, but more days this February than most years, so…
My previous comment still stands. I don’t know what’s happened to this year already.
And even though I feel “behind” barely over one month in already – I am accepting Belle Brita’s Love Blog Challenge. With the promise to myself
One day, several years ago, my father asked me, “Why do you want to be a writer?”
“Immortality” I answered.
I think this is common for artists. Since accepting the challenge to write and share about Legacy, I’ve seen it sprinkled in many songs and art references. Pretty much the entire musical of Hamilton is obsessed with the theme of legacy.
Early in 2018, the lead singer of The Cranberries, Dolores O’Riordan, died at 46. Forty-Six. Too young. She touched many lives in her short life and her work will live on. This song, “When You’re Gone” begins with the line, “Hold
Re-sharing today this Free Write that began with the prompt love – and applies to today’s #LoveBlog challenge prompt, vulnerability.
Free-writes are by nature personal and rambling.
Also, because my laptop is having issues, we’re going Avant Garde with punctuation. The question mark will be signified with /.
Enter at your own risk.
Of the 468 blogs currently on my website, the search term “love” brings up 233 results. Of those, 12 “headlines” include love in the title. So,
Before we married, Quinn told me an anecdote from the old sitcom “Night Court.” The characters included the goofy judge, the “together” lawyer, and the grumpy-old-lady-guard. The “together” lawyer was lamenting the goofy judge’s capacity for silliness, how could they succeed in a forever relationship together when he refused to “grow up”? Concerns for his responsibility weighed upon her mind and the prospect of their future.
After a pause, the grumpy-old-lady-guard said, “Yeah… after a lifetime of laughter, what have you got?”
This story was one of the ways Quinn convinced
LOVE BLOG CHALLENGEThe great interwebs have introduced me to Belle Brita, who has prompts and #bloghops every day in February and she suggested we kick it off with a chat about Love Languages.
I happen to know, from last year’s hop, there are a few Hamilton fans in the audience. So, let’s start with this little relationship tip about enough. This song is from the “Hamilton Mixtape” with the lyrics, because I’m all about the words, ya know?
What can we learn from
Bringing a circle of support around two people is beautiful. My favorite weddings combine celebration, tradition, and personality, with the rituals chosen on purpose, a specific and unique start to their new adventure together.
Last year we went to the wedding of my dear friend, Christine. The small congregation of close friends and family spontaneously sang her down the aisle of the small chapel. The scene was gorgeous on a beautiful island off of Seattle. It propelled me to live like we have 100 Junes.
“What makes your husband a good husband?” I was once asked by a colleague.
I’ll tell you: He scrapes the ice and snow from my car, early in the morning, even though he doesn’t even have to be up yet. He brings me hot tea when I wake up from a nightmare in the night. He asks the question, “What can I do to help you?” and then, and this is the important bit, he does that.
You see, my “love language” is “acts of service.” I come from a heritage where saying, “I love you,” is redundant. If you
Set the scene: Marcus as a little boy and a car full of friends, driving through the fancier neighborhoods of town to look at Christmas lights and singing Christmas Carols. “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” a perennial favorite, of course “Jingle Bells,” “Silent Night,” and several we only knew half the words to. Someone asks Marcus what songs his class would be singing in the upcoming Christmas Program.
“Please Love A Duck.” He said.
