Tag Archives: living

Celebrate

The griefs are many

but find value in truth that:

Each breath

Each heartbeat 

Each moment celebrating

Each of those

Is a courtship of death.

By embracing 

THIS breath

THIS heartbeat 

THIS moment of joy

Is a nod of recognition 

To infinite mystery

Blazing celebration

Our age is known

By the buried bones

Of our bloodline

Reflected in chosen heritage

And the legacy of their love.

HNBR: Day 6

As we prepare to conclude our vacation, there is much that I need to chaw on for a while. Here are some highlights:

My Aunt Lizzy is one of the most beautiful women I know. Fresh from caring for her yard, she lives up to her shirt.

I couldn’t love this picture or I might explode.

This was our last hug before we left. What a treat to be with those hearts!

This naughty lady, bedecked in a pride collar and a satisfied expression had to be wrangled back into her home after taking advantage of friendly greetings and an open door. Ruby is a good girl.

My dad is on his front porch doing dad things.

My mom doing her thing.

Pegs and Jokers was introduced by my Aunt Helen and Uncle Lou a couple years back to my Rents. My mom and dad raved about it sharing how much fun they had. I got it for them for Christmas the same year. Tonight was the inaugural playing. My dad won.

Very intense concentration
Switched to Yahtzee! Old school box with the rules still in it. My dad got a Yahtzee, but Jen wiped the floor with all of us ending up with THREE Yahtzees!
She is the champion!
Dad came in at #2
Mom was a close #3

And then…

Last cow home.

8am comes a return to our regularly scheduled programming. This has been incredible. Lots of information to digest and process before I can sort through this beautiful, wonderful, farted up life. Bless this holy water..

HNBR: Part 3 of Day Four

A regular looking caterpillar turns themselves into goo in order to transform into a beautiful butterfly. We visited Wings of Mackinac which really was my favorite activity on the island.

HNBR: Part 2 of Day 4

Our horse team were Benny and Charlotte. Jamie was our driver. She is a full time resident as of 2020.
This is the stable where the horses are cared for. During the warm months there are roughly 225 horses on the island. In the winter months, about 25 stay year round. The majority go back to the mainland and further north than the island. One horse we met named Barry is going to Europe at the end of the season.
This is a church made of stone. So sayeth the sign. Fun fact incoming:
The windows in this church are imported Tiffany glass worth a buttload of $$$. They are now covered in plexiglass because some idiot built a golf course abutting the church property.
Lilacs were everywhere and the scent was ethereal. When you passed each bush it was a step into an immersive nature experience.
Just outside the butterfly conservatory.
The cairn behind us was in a flower garden.
I was commanded by Libbie Landers to stop and smell the flowers. Photo proof I did just that.
Jen did the same thing.
Chicken 🐓
Chicken! 🐓
CHICKEN! 🐓
Wings of Mackinac
Lilacs and tulips 🌷

Next up is our venture into a fluttering haven of lovely.

HNBR: Part I of Day 4

Our ferry company of choice.
At the dock waiting to board the ferry.
Our ferry is about to arrive at our dock.
This is the very faint outline of the 9:30am ferry heading to the island.
It was cold enough for me to buy gloves first thing. This was our front view.
As we neared the island, The Grand Hotel came into view. The boat ride was choppy so not the easiest to capture it.
This is a snapshot of popular attractions.

This is the first stop we made with a bathroom conveniently nearby. Next post will show you more of the day. Jen said today wasn’t boring.

HNBR: Day 2-3

The start of our journey was optimistic and great vibes. The day was brilliant with sunshine. Pine trees for miles. Excellent journey.
I’m on the left, Suey is beaming in the center, Bebop is in the buffalo plaid, and Madam President Jen is glistening. Met for drinks and dessert with the second batch of my fellow Poll Dancers. Earlier we broke bread with Lynda and spent time shopping for our church meeting.
Just south of Cadillac, MI, Bestie doing her best Vanna White.
The black spot on my teeth is a blueberry from the pancakes my loving dad made for us this morning. The grin we share is because we’re almost to the Mighty Mac.
We are driving on the bridge between the Upper and Lower Peninsula of Michigan. The bridge sings a song of descending tones the slower you go. We should nickname this trip “Left Lane Closed.”
We made it! Woot! Yeehaw! $4 to drive that bridge. It’s a tourist trap. 
This is a pasty. It’s a meat pie with potatoes, rutabaga, carrots, and traditional spices. This was a 7 on my scale. This one was dry even with gravy. Jen was not a fan, so…
She got us matching bracelets! Then we had to find her a place to eat.
A woman recommended this place. Jen ordered a cheeseburger 🍔 and Jalapeño poppers. She rated the burger an 8/10. The meat had a really good good flavor which got overpowered by the condiments. The poppers were large and juicy but overpriced. 8/10. Overall a solid 8 on the scale of Jen.
Note they serve POP here, not coke or soda, just POP.

As we were leaving the drive in we needed to moose 🫎

Me moosing
Jen moosing
Together we amoosed ourselves.

As if that were enough! We also trained ourselves. Engine to caboose:

Long before Jen knew me I once spent a week at a school camp where breaking table rules made you have to kiss the moose. 🫎 I was not puckering up.
Bunny ears on the moose because I’m 12.
The whole train
Petting a weird dog
Weirdly petting a dog

The day was dang near perfect for me. 9/10. Jen had a 7/10 day because we rode in the car, got food, and went swimming. I’m either easily pleased or I need to up my expectations! Jen said she was bored today.

Live out loud

Do not wad your spirit up in a crumpled ball to be tucked away or discarded. Spread out your body to relish the wrinkles of wisdom topped off with your star shine luminosity. Smooth back the night to raise the powerful roots that feed your soul with your destiny.

You weren’t meant to shy away from your glory, you were born to glitter wildly, bubble fruitfully, and bloom in magnificence like those before you. There are no boundaries beneath your feet, only your path.

You were meant to be loud; to take up the space stolen from you by those who fear your wealth of experience and wisdom. They use old, crone, bitch, or other words to describe those who embrace their true nature with delighted abandon. Those are words that mean survivor, wise, and assertive. Those words are meant to keep you small, withered, starving for approval. You own their power.

You do not require permission to explode with color, dance joyfully wherever/whenever you please, or to laugh until your eyes leak. You were born for this. I can’t wait to be a wild woman with you!

Feels

I want to feel what I feel

I don’t want to be told:

It’s for the best

It’s gods plan

Snap out of it

Or insidiously

Get over it

I need to feel what I feel

The well wishers are wrong

Sometimes insensitive

To my patchwork heart

Whose whole is filled with holes

I know change has come

I know, eventually,

I, too, will change.

While I’m here in this moment

So different from what I knew

(Took for granted)

I require feeling what I feel

Without excuses or platitudes.

I am human.

I want to feel what I feel right now.

Growing Myself

My ancestral wisdom is tangible in my sunburnt skin, tasted on my compassionate tongue, washed in glorious joy, baptized in horrific sorrow. I am spirit ever expanding, heated with a desire to be loved, buried in the beaches of hourglass sands using a cracked red plastic bucket and a too small yellow shovel. I’m thirsty for knowledge, recumbent in peace. I am decayed by grief with only a mildly offensive odor. I have rebuilt myself, my life, my dreams with non-stock aftermarket replacement parts out of every past me I’ve ever been.

Whatever the Face

You don’t need permission to be angry with God
You’re not less of a human or any more flawed
It’s okay to yell, to scream, and to shake
To groan under your burden while your heart aches
To feel like you’re in it, totally alone
The weariness digging down deep in your bones
You don’t need permission to question your faith
To want something different than the cards that have played
You’re perfectly normal to deny what is true
The mistakes that were made that you can’t undo
Rejecting condolences because then “IT” is real
Bargaining, begging, willing to make deals
Wherever your God is, whatever the face
Know that you’re held in comfort and grace
The shoulders you cry on, the prayers that are offered
Are all given up to the ultimate Author