Overflow......

It's an old house and I'm an old woman. Things are bound to fall apart. And so it goes....

I turn the blue and silver cap slowly, a delicate twist of my wrist, less the bottle neck shatter into a thousand pieces.....
And then, I chug good and hard....

It's beer time, baby.....

The shower gurgles up into the toilet and the toilet runs until the pump gets hot. When the pump gets hot the cold water stops flowing and I've scalded myself silly three 5 minute showers in a row. It's OK. I don't need to rinse off, the wayward boys took off with the soap and the shampoo and I swim with tadpoles, remember?

They disconnected my internet for non payment and I promptly took care of the problem and they politely turned me back on Thirty minutesbefore lightening struck the telephone pole, scampered down the cable and knocked the whole system out. There's a post~it note on the screen now,
It says "don't you dare".....

My broken foot is broken,
and tomorrow I'm wearing combat boots to work,
My key got stuck in the broken kitchen door and I had to break the plywood to crawl through the already broken glass to let Georgia out the broken back door.....
and there's a post-it note there too....
it says "Lock the broken door or the cats will get out"......

I pulled my clothes from the washer and hung them on the line and it rained. Thank God the sky is broken. The rust from the washer was smeared all over my new "I am free" T-shirt and I'm hoping the heavens will rinse it out.

The house is 3 inches deep in cat hair and dog hair and the confetti of my life. The vacuum makes loud noises and spits at my shins.

It's dark here, every 1000 hour light bulb blew out at once and I used all my candles for the hurricanes 3 years ago. I have to keep typing or the screen saver comes on and I can't see a damn thing in the living room.....



Everything is broken,
but the circle.....

Rest in Peace.....

In the beginning, we were newbies. I remember where we sat and what I wore. The songs the band played. The wig Ms. Betsy had on. I smiled. Tapped my tennis shoed foot on the floor and finally, solo-d it on the dance floor. Kevin joined me. He couldn't hear the music and he couldn't introduce himself. We had to scooch really close to the drums before he smiled. He had to write his name on a napkin before I smiled. He couldn't hear. He couldn't speak. But, by God, he could feel it....

52 Fridays times two plus some have passed. I've barreled through the doors in cowboy boots, combat boots, barefooted. I've hugged people, kissed people, and just once.....slapped a wayward soul. I've slow danced, low danced, fast danced, no~touch danced.....held my lighter to the sky, my bottle to the heavens, and held my breath. I've fallen in love, met angels and demons, and family here. I've come through the painted door high on martini moons, wild from full moons, and tiptoed through no moons. I've been free here.

On Friday I knew.....

Ran my fingers down the painted front door and scrunched my nose up to the make believe speak easy.....

And made my entrance fit for an exit.....

Rumors.....

You never know what to believe.....

Fireworks

I dated a nice boy. Once. He opened car doors and brought me donuts on Saturday. He wore khaki pants and golf shirts. Had a retirement plan and took good care of his parents. When he kissed me the first time, I almost fainted. From boredom. And then he sweet talked me. In baby talk.

"Why can't you just find a nice guy and settle down?" She said to me, slurping her McCoffee.....

"Lemme tell you why" I giggled . Remembering.

I like to have fun. I like to laugh til I cry and cry til I laugh. I like to dance. Low and fast. Touching and no touching. In the streets and in the rain. I like to dress up and dress down. I like to be shocked and to be rocked. I like to be IN LOVE and I love to be liked.

I believe in butterflies.....

Choose Peace

I can see him clearly through my early morning windshield, love bugs and pollen peppering my view. He faces me in traffic, unshaven and brusque in his little fleet truck. We are at a stand still. I can't budge an inch and he wants to snake through traffic, dart actually, to get his morning coffee. He sneers. Lifts his hands from the steering wheel and abruptly motions me to get the hell out of his way. I smile. This aint no helicopter, baby. He flips me off. I smile again and the light turns green. Peace. He guns past me. I thank him for the 30 second delay it took me to welcome him through traffic. You never know when the butterfly effect begins....

She fidgets with the credit card machine. Slides my card through it again and again, upside down and backwards. Wiggles the cord. Checks for a dial tone. Clears the register. The lady behind me in the three inch heels clicks her feet on the terazza floor. Clickity clickety click. "I'm already late!" she pecks into the air, a skinny little bird waiting on worms to fall from the sky. I smile. The cashier tries it again, apologizes, and it takes. I thank her, and on turning, wish the high heeled haughty behind me a better morning....."Once you're late, you're late..... enjoy the ride..."

Tiny little rhinestones keep fallin' off my favorite shirt, the peace sign slowly crumbling , disappearing. I touch the remaining few. This tye-dyed comfy cozy gift from my oldest grandaughter..... from my heart, is fading. I cross the parking lot and a raspy six year old voice follows me in the wind. "Mommy, look, I found a diamond, a diamond! Mommmy, Look!" His face lights up, glows up, beams..... and his chubby little fingers coddle the treasure. Climbing into the car, I smile.....

The butterfly effect......

Choose peace, people.....

It's priceless.....

Swimmin' with frogs....

I scooched down the ladder, one step... two...third's a charm....and plowed into the pretend ocean, water streaming past my face, Christmas tinsel in the sun. God, I love this pool!

The yellow raft bobbed, up and down. Suddenly splashed, it looked like a radiator gurgling in the summer heat...steam rising, bubbles popping. I reached for it, ready to plop my Saturday skin in it's arms. Then she croaked. Made this funny tweaky sound. And I saw him. The frog. "Shooooooo!" I fussed. He looked at me and croaked. "Arrrrrrggggh" I gently lifted the raft over the edge of the pool, pinned the edges to the tidy whitey clothes line that hangs like a broken power line over the lazy round river and let the yellow mattress blow in the wind, it's bottom sweeping the grass....."Shooooo, little one" I whispered. He croaked again. "Come on bud, I made you a ladder and everything"..... He croaked.

I swam that day. No floating. I gave in and let him sit perched on my vinyl dream, staring at me.

Yesterday I woke up to a sea of tadpoles, splashing, swimming, playing follow the leader, dip and dive, "Look, Ma, Look!" in my little round river.....


Squatter's rights.....

Pixies for peace

His little fingers open and close, the tissue paper soft wings of a newborn butterfly resting for just a moment, on the knotty limbs of an oak tree. He traces my veins and wrinkles, smiles, and holds on tight. Sighs and closes his eyes. For just a moment, I close mine, too. And I pray I'll live long enough, laugh often enough, to become a hundred year old pixie in his memories.



I'm standing at the ocean wall. And I feel her. Rising up in my heart. Hear her. See her. I spin around and know they feel her, too. Nana. She's at the bar playing Cahoot's with strangers. She's in patent leather knee high boots dancing with her new best friends. She has little lady fingernail shells stuffed in her yellow pocketbook. Magic potions in her carpetbag. She tossles my hair, runs her finger down my sunburnt nose, and throws her head back. Laughs and shoos me off...."Have fun, be free, little ones..."



Her face is scribbled. A thousand wrinkles swimming in every direction. Blonde hair piled on her head in banana curls. She's beautiful. The band drags their cords and amps, speakers, guitars, drums across the deck. "Testing one, two, three, testing".....and then she's gone. We're on our own. The man across the bar, with the Bon Jovi hair, rises and walks toward us. Giant fuscia hibiscus blooms in his hands. "For the flower children" he smiles....



And I look up at the sky and thank her.