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
Our age is known
By the buried bones
Of our bloodline
Reflected in chosen heritage
And the legacy of their love.
I started out as a Mare
A pirate loudly aging
But I soon became an otter
Clinging to my people
Handle to handle
I turned into a fish
Overturned yellow tube
This was unintentional
I scaled rocks
Ducking under a sunken branch
Finally back on my trusty steed
I was a floater
Landing in dead pools
With big rocks and shallow water
Butt’s up was flowing over
Rapids that jostled rapidly
Happily lapping at the shore
Without good position,
I transmogrified into a T-Rex
Short little arms no water could reach
Neither could any feet
I magically became a turtle
Floundering on my back
Finally in the flow again,
Mostly sunny haint blue skies with
Partly cloudy wispy white
Lava-floe sun shrieking hotly
A hawk and a turkey buzzard
Circle the sky at different altitudes
I think out loud, “Ah, what a metaphor for my life.”
Chaos ensued, shenanigans had,
I laughed at myself in genuine mirth
I essentially stuttered downstream
One challenge to the next victory
How deeply grateful am I to learn
How I move in the depths
And handle the shallows
Ending up beached; engineering solutions
As I concluded the journey
I reverted and emerged, once again, Mare, but better for the experience.
A funeral is a condensed soup of stories
a testament to how they moved through the world
honoring the human they are no longer
wish flowers blown free by a child’s breath
The absence of their laughter, wisdom, joy
is a sullen void of yearning
Haunting the rooms where they lived
with a sharp recognition of the hollowness
The mortality displayed on our own faces
The recognition of our fleeting contribution
Our role in the stone soup of life
Our own responsibility to love so loudly
that we echo through our children,
leak into the community with emboldened abandon
Cherish each gift of spent intimacy
whether it came neatly wrapped in shiny paper
or a hurried wrapping in Sunday comics
Who we are is a reflection of everyone we know
who we become is the distillation of their best parts
Miss Mabel, June 13, 2025
I feel an animosity towards time
It proceeds without caution,
barreling through individual’s lives
destruction and creation embodied
A shallow dagger tattooing memories
in a word.
I swallow in lusty gulps the mana
that ever and again poisons me
with child-like misplaced trust
of the perpetuation of consistency
bathed in my blissful ignorance
in a word.
It’s not enough to hold resentment
towards the testament of our days,
nor is it a hobby to be taken frivolously
It is neither good nor evil,
but yet it commonly holds the dichotomy
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”
Or so the story goes
in a word.
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.
And then…
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..
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.
Hokey Jalapeno! The night of the 30th was shredded by my inability to sleep because I was so danged excited, my client kept calling me then hanging up for two hours, and the torture of last minute pack it or you’ll forget it type of things. If you’re an ADHD person like me, last minute is the best time for us because it forces focus. It is for me anyway.
DAY ONE
However, 7 AM rolled around on the 31st leaving me no choice but to load up the suitcase I packed last minute with the cleanest clothes I could find that were weather appropriate. I pulled into Madam President’s driveway exactly at 8AM. We loaded up, said see ya, and drove north.
As we sat at the stoplight to turn north on I-75, Jen the Bestie captured our start into the wild.
The Welcome Center just over the Kentucky State Line. It appears there used to be a large golden horse on an empty base, but all that’s left is this little fella. We look like cartoon charicatures of ourselves in this one.
Obligatory awesome. That’s Jen.
This my version of keeping the baby quiet.I really appreciated the spirit of the day. The frivolity of youth in the hands of ridiculous wisdom of an aging Mare.
The skyline peeled off the steep grade like it was a curious city. It asked the question of me, “What could you give to contribute to the welfare of this city?”
Then it forced me to sit in a poorly designed parking lot that went from four lanes, down to three, down to two, down to one.
The first of the reductions, I dawdled a bit getting over safely into the next lane for the first one, but I quickly figured out that the earlier the better, but granted grace to a few people who just learned the same lesson. By the third one, My Abide was struggling. We were all on the same road, just trying not to be there. I granted grace to a swastikkkar and a white honda. The fourth and final reduction, I decided I just wanted to get where I’m going.
A short cab box truck decided to be a last minute Lucy. He started easing over into the lane I was using. I blew my horn continuing with my resolution. He had to slide behind me. I’m pretty sure an entire flock of that pretty middle bird were flying past my window like arrows that couldn’t find their mark.
Pure Michigan is their welcome sign.
I enjoyed the weather reports for the most common destinations found in Michigan proper. This picture was hard to capture. I’m just a bit shorter than Jen. I was on my tiptoes to her flat-footed. We were about to laugh so hard we were crying real tears of joy. We didn’t know.
My Mom, Linda, and my dad, Dave, are the testament to our arrival safely at their home. Andiamo’s Pizza is freaking top hat.
DAY TWO
This is my favorite shop when I visit my Rents. They even have doggo sundaes. Of course I got one for my boyfriend.
I like that this picture shows sweet and salty at the same time.
The Rents and my boyfriend awaiting their treats.
They all said Sis. Every last one of them. Today I’m William and Jen is Laura according to our coke options.
If you want to hear more about the story behind the title, let me know in the comments. I’ll tell you the story that gets the most requests in a 48 hour timeline. The possible topic titles are:
Bob returned home after 6 months of being gone. He’s in such a good mood I had to scrape him off the ceiling with a spatula. My Beastie and I moved everything out of his apartment and back to his house.
Mocha enjoyed a pup cup today with deep passion.
In other news, last year I asked to do an art installation in the local park frequented by people who walk, run, stroll, etc. on the paths. The city said no, they don’t allow any kind of signs along that pathway in the park.
I sent them samples of the signs I wanted to place. Like “If you’re here, you’re awesome!” “You’re amazing!” “Keep going, you’ve got this!” “You are loved.” But they still said no. That irritated me enough that I made and gave out over 300 1” buttons that said, “Be L❤️ve”.
Although that sated my thirst for a bit, I wondered if I was thinking too small. Turns out, I was!
As part of the Stewardship drive at my church, anyone who pledged for the year got:
I designed them with a bit of editing and encouragement from my Bestie (Jen Stark suggested Live Joy) and input from Lóre Stevens (Create). Now, those signs will be all over my city all because I was told No. HA! Each one a stake of rebellion and I’m bursting with joy!
Gravity quit working
My feet now never touch the ground
It’s as if I’ve fallen for the Red Bull ads
To the earth no longer bound
Their being is confectionery
I am colliding with the bliss
Drawn from still and stationary
To a yearning restless kiss
An Independent Nondiscriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations - FOUNDED 2014
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
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Mare Martell 