RENEWED INSISTENCE

RENEWED INSISTENCE

I have decided the power of words is my best call to action.  Fingers dance on keyboard.  Holiday and we light candles and give thanks for oil and a place to find sanctuary.  Simple actions and thought give birth to flares in the darkness, and illumination in the moment, when walls close in and cast shadow all around.  And so it is I welcome the holidays and the decorations in windows, making hope and promise come alive.  

Gifts of the Season.  Renewed Insistence that we are making the best of it, without spending money we don’t have, and running up the credit cards.  It is a process.   Giving and Receiving.   Love.

The month of December speeds along.  Renewed insistence that this is the way it should be.  Tradition.  Change nothing or very little in how we decorate and celebrate and give praise to it all.  And then suddenly.  Last Call.  Time to empty your glasses and go home.  Lights Out at 2 a.m.  Deals are to be had, but the window of opportunity shrinks and sends a ripple into the consumer ranks.  Extra-ordinarily capable of spending another dollar, we don’t.    Carry on. 

We still have time.  

Presents in the closet.  Tree standing near the fireplace.  Holiday Cards in the mail.  And with that I have the confidence to just sit in my easy chair, no issues for the rest of the year.  Goodwill Extended.  I am proud to be here where you can find me.  Rest.  Talk.  Be grateful for your friendship and your presence.  Is how it is for me.  Holidays and December 2012.  Devoted to you.  And universal peace and love.

Rooted in the belief that this is proper, am still in an imperfect world, seeking love and understanding.  And a little more time with you.  Holidays and Happiness is all I seek.  December and its clear, only so many shopping days are left.  And this provokes a showdown.  Between just one more stocking stuffer or just a walk, hand in hand along the river bank, suggesting we are good to go.  No more fussing.  Make time for fun.

Its up to you how this is to be done.

Makes me light up to think of all the ways,

Fun happens.  

Renewed Insistence to hold the line on spending.  No more standing in line to get a bargain.  Black Friday Silly and I am over it.  No more presents, just love.  And that’s it.  Starving and broke, but full of love.  That’s it. Yikes.   Christmas and Holidays  2012.  Last Call.  Now go home.  I will see you tomorrow.  Cheers.

120 KLICKS

120 KLICKS

 

Getting it all started by saying, “Klick is a common military term.  Means kilometer and refers to distance.  And in Canada is slang for kilometer, either speed or distance.  For those of us on speed, you would hear us say, “I am doing about a 120 klicks.”  Speed Kills.  And so if you are going long distances in the car this holiday season.  Caution is Advised.  But not by me.  I go at full speed and a little more.  Have I ever been arrested?   Not for being under the influence. 

So its just a matter of knowing, icy roads and long distances and blurred vision and lack of sleep all combine to make the process of going to Grandmother’s house more difficult.  120 Klicks and reminds me of so many things, on this fine winter’s day.  Be Prepared.

Running around the surface, looking for you.  In my youth I would always go too far, and just before the New Years, would repent for all the times I missed you.  Twas difficult for me.  Being young.  Being on a different system.  She would say, “Right.  Metrics and you can’t add and keep up with me.  Oh well.  Your loss.”  And it was.  120 Klicks and it was a kiilometre thing.  Miles and Dollars and Common Sense.  Missing.  Incorrect calculations at best.  And she was 120 Klicks away, but I could never find her.  So tis the time of year, when memories flood in, when morning shades open, and the light reaches me.  Never would I change a thing.  Stubborn Man.  I am.

 

In my heart, I know where I stand.  And where I stand with you.  What love means, when it is 120 Klicks away, I will leave it to your imagination.  But I know.  Long ago, figured out what was important this time of year.  Holiday Lights and some travel.  General conditions prevail.  I miss you.  Past Behavior speaks for itself.  Great Loss is Legend.  Oh the stories I could tell.  Heartbreak and Mutual Disturbance.  The Beatles.  Let It Be. 

“…. When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me.  Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.”

It all happens in 120 Klicks.  A really difficult time.  Had problems.  There was a breakup.  In the back of my mind, I wanted it to be you.  Only you.  But often, that is not how things work.  Never mind the flirtations and affairs on a mental level.  Was too busy to attend, and figure out the gap in the system being used.  Cultural Imperatives, and I was clueless.  Knew only one way, and in the maze leading to my heart, it locked you out. 

And yes, at the time, was really living and playing hard.  That was the truth behind everything.  And before I know it 5 years came and went, and love became dream-like.  I made it up.  Took safe passage.  Went where the wind would blow.  Lasted longer than I expected.  Blown off course.

 Without you.

And there it is.  120 Klicks away.  Staring at me through shinning eyes.  Reflections and Light and Christmas at the mall.  All so pretty.  Easy to get lost in the moment.  Spend more on material pursuit than you intended.  In the flow.  Don’t fight it.  Let it work out.  Tis the season.  120 Klicks Away.  Reality and Fantasy:  side by side.  I miss you.  A little more each year.  The Memorial Service:  For Things Never Had, or Suddenly Gone Missing.  Time speeds by, like a fast rabbit and a Mercedes in high gear.  And is the statement I want to make:  Roads are Dangerous this time year.  Be careful.  One and All.  On your way to love. 

And Family.  120 Klicks.

 

 

MEDIA JUICE

Let me see if I can make sense of this.  Little-1 says in his too-loud voice, “Daddy, Juice.”  And this brings to my attention, several things that I would like to come alive, using my morning blog.  The importance of milk and juice for young children can not be over stated.  Is important to do a couple of things, as morning starts, namely prayers for the opening of eyes and the opportunity to have a normal day, and a healthy breakfast.  Such is the way around my round-table of want-to-be prince and princess people.  We try our best to do the right thing, each and every day. 

Having said that, I want to emphasis The Family Rituals.  Comes down to this for me; It all begins with people.  We must take good care of each other, be it your potato-tot and little people, or strangers across a far-away-sea and ocean.  Tis the season.  Of Goodwill.  And will use this as a lead-in.  I wanted to write a blog about the importance of juice, but something has come up, and now has my attention:  Media Juice.

 

And now there is more.

 

My children are asking for juice, and yes one likes apple juice and one likes blackberry juice.  I like water and coffee, but that does not apply just now.  Juice and it occurs to me, on the subject of Media Juice, that it can be quite potent. And now I can get into the real subject of this all. 

Holidays.  People.  Hoax. 

Seems there is this topic:  2Day Fm UK hospital prank.  Started when Kate went to the hospital for morning sickness.  And the influence from afar is great.  Some folks in Australia at a radio station thought it might be proper and funny, to call the hospital in London and pretend to be royalty and concerned family and pump the poor person who answered the phone for information.  So far so good.  Twas just a little fun. 

And now I read, where a British nurse is Dead.  The details can be found on the internet, but for me its all about Media Juice and what happens, around the world.

 

Clearly something is wrong.  Something went terribly wrong.  And now comes the business of getting counseling for those involved, and lawyers and so much more for those being drawn into this situation.  It is today’s news.  Around the World.  Consequences of Action Taken.  Started in Australia, after news of the royal couple in the UK.  “ Cause No Harm.”  Is what I tell the Littles all the time.  Do not hit your sister.” 

And since Christmas and World Holidays are drawing near, we have in our house a Naughty and Nice List for official use, to determine who gets a new car for Christmas and who gets a plastic one, or in her case, “Another doll.”  As you can see, its complicated.  Can’t take sides.  Have to be careful.  Family Matters.  Love One Another.  And with that I look across the table and ask, “ Well Littles- 1 and 2.  Do you want any more Juice or toast?”  And with that we all agree. 

Play Time. 

Time to have a little fun.  And so now they are off, doing other things, out of sight.  Nanny People take over.  And I am left with my own thoughts and a lot of Media Juice, nobody really wanted.  Have a good day.   

Do No Harm.

 

NOD WINK AND SMILE

NOD  WINK  AND SMILE

I have decided to do a walk-through the rest of December, locking in on the killer-bee style of circling the hive, bouncing from subject to subject, and in the end, just doing my job, without much publicity.  Just woke up and nothing important to report.  Playing video Tiger Woods golf, saying prayers as if in gratitude to all that makes me the great person I will turn out to be today, and sipping tea and a cup or two of soup broth. 

Preparing for my day, and hoping to keep all signs of hope and promise and prosperity above the horizon and rising.  I didn’t plan it this way, but compared to millions, I am having a good day.  Oh so far removed from the fighting and the politics of Washington DC, most things are in a holding pattern, as I greet this new day, intent on visualizing my path through the rest of the month, and into January and the new year.  2013.  Unknown Territory. 

And I plan to nod, wink and smile my way through another year, looking for you and the horse you rode in on.  That is to say, I expect to see more of you, and will start by making time for the little things, like baseball and cotton candy and good drinking water, to be continued and consumed at Spring Baseball, MLB style in Phoenix, Arizona in February and March and April.  The Planning Begins.  Nod.  Wink.  Smile. 

Starting my day.  Looking for you.  Christmas Wish List in hand.  And a bottle.  Just in case you are thirsty or just like Coke or Sprit or something or somebody sweet like me.  Reminding us all.  Today is a Good Day.  And don’t you forget it.  When stuck in traffic. 

Late for Work.

 

I think it time to get my priorities in order.  Set a course and steer clear of obstacles in the way.  Done with far away innuendos of doom and gloom.  Not over concerned that my NFL football team, Seattle Seahawks might lose on Sunday.  Truth is I have my house in order,  and step out to the Supermarket of Good Luck and Good Cheer and Best of All-Things for you, in the coming year.  Past the deadline, of getting everything done yesterday.  Nothing on my plate, except good times, and a nod, wink and smile.  Just for you.

You may be facing a conundrum as the holiday season kicks into high gear.  I have all I need.  I think about you each and every day.  I have found love, and an extra sentimental kiss or two in the laundry basket.  Of course its hearts and stars, found in a special drawing left where I could find it, by The Littles.  Not yet in school, but doing what other children do.  Love Their Mum and Daddy. 

And express it in picture art, and have lots to say when they see you have found the latest version of pop-culture love, expressed in colors and bold lines going everywhere, and now tacked to the refrigerator, just in time for breakfast.  Busy of course, but have time for each other.  And we do it.  Nod.  Wink.  Smile.  And blow kisses to each other.  Love in all the right places.  Begins in the heart.  And warms the room, as we sit down to breakfast.  Full of Love.

We Party On.   It is December. 

On Course. 

Thinking of You. 

No obstacles in the way.

Loving You and Our Children.

Today. 

PUDDLE JUMPING

“Oh Kate.  Morning sickness.”  Nothing to hide and it is out in the open.  Checked into a hospital, and others came later to check on her, husband included.  Is the pinnacle of life, and Royal Littles.  And I recall a story.  Down at your feet and pulling on you, saying:  “Daddy Puddle.”  And instantly I knew a comma was missing, and so I fired back a comment:  “Baby, puddle.” 

And is how this all got started as a father-son or daughter-father conversation, reminding myself that frontier men don’t talk much.  Busy killing time and anything that moves, we call it meat and greet and ole time hunting.  Sparse with the language and not yet reading, we simplify everything.  And that’s how my mind manufactured the idea of long-range planning and giving in to the moment.  And the subject: Puddle Jumping.

 

Royal Children, like regular ones are a gift of life.  Special in every way.  Having said that, we must now prepare for the season of media delight when every move and hesitation is a royal moment to be reported.  Long conversation this will be, as media has something other than killing to report.  Gift of Life.  Royal Children.  And I am almost speechless, but get it out.  “Oh Kate.  Now it all begins.  Puddle Jumping.”  A form of code and logic. 

In the beginning one has to learn, and make it seem as if this is an everyday thing.  And for the Nanny it is.  If you say, “Not really that kind of girl.”  Then we know.  And know we do, to hop, skip and leap across the Atlantic and all the crazy that comes with it.  Oh so many sleepless nights. 

And its just morning sickness.  We should prepare.

Bringing us to the discussion, “Why This?”  Puddle Jumping?  Well, its simple for me.  It can be an adventure of the dimension that is universal.  Sun/Son comes out and now it is official.  Mother of a Prince.  And Princes, too.  Haven’t ruled out the possibility.  Twins.  And don’t forget the comma.  “Oh, boy and girl.  Such a joy to find out.  Put the welcome mat out.  Bring her home.  Was in the hospital.  Morning Sickness.  We want details. 

And no matter what I blog here, let me stress and worry and make the point, what is said is only good for about fifteen minutes.  And with children it all speeds up.  So if you have two, then puddle jumping becomes the norm.  Just saying.  Have Velcro and changing nappies is easy.  So they say.  Up-side down and rolling about, takes a little practice and yet are in the age of no-stick-um, now.  Meaning forget the pins and needles.  Limited crying, but it still happens. 

And now I remember, this can’t be another blog about the rain, and so it isn’t.  Sports.  News.  Weather.  Royal Children.  “Oh, Kate.”

Now what?  Don’t forget the comma.  Need a little separation here.  And ear plugs.  Auto-cipher flows and makes havoc of unpaved areas in your life.  “Wipe your feet, “I mean it.”, and yes, it rained all day today, and then suddenly it cleared up.  Kids and media going a bit crazy from being in the house or in front of the hospital waiting for Kate-News, so we said:  “You need a break. 

Let’s go puddle jumping.”  Excited the kid-phase in cold and wet adults.  Remember the story.  Once upon a time, in a land far, far, away, there was a young person who had this amazing ability to Puddle and Jump.  Skip, leap and hop to the other-side.  Frawg boy.   All-legs girl.  A special treat to watch them grow up and get stronger.  One day at a time, and before you know it they are changing their own nappies.  Is meaningful, in a human way.  Personal Development. 

Life without the puddle.

“Don’t talk about the rain/reign.”

What else is there to say about all this.  Should I stop?  Rain Check.  Has he got it out of his system? 

“Deal With It.” 

But not sure I want to say that to Kate.  Morning and we are just getting started.  Some people go to church.  Pray for relief.  Other go to the grocery store and buy the strangest things.  Oh the stories we could tell.  How to deal with it.  We take turns.  His.  Hers.  Ours. 

And in the end, we realize this unusually high energy, stirring within.  Comes with the twist and turn and fundamental kicking it with you.  Bonding.  Not volunteer work.  Becomes a way of life.  And just the other day, I had enough.  Had to rant.  Blamed it on the rain and some seasonal disorder. 

But now we know.  “Oh, Kate.  Morning Sickness.”  And what more is there to say about all this?  How far will it go?  Across The Pond.  Puddle Jumping Mania.  And the event:  Royal Children:  1-2-3.  Place your bets.  Boy.  Girl.  Both.  All of the Above, and more.

Not talking about it just now, The Reign. 

DISQUISTIONS

DISQUISITIONS

 

Today’s blog may be about my day to day frustrations with everything not me, meaning I am too busy to concentrate on me, and hence go ballistic and global and switch to Google News, when I want to be out of the neighborhood, and acting worldly-like.  And this is good as long as my body gets a little sun, otherwise its Skin Dementia for me, and I start acting a little crazy.  But that is a different ordeal, and today is about dreaming and deferral and compromise. 

Epitome of a Failed Life. 

Maybe.  Perhaps it is nothing more than having too much time to sit around and think about the fatal flaw that encourages crazy talk and seasonal ailments that come with Black Friday and money talk.  And that is where I draw the line.  Have no money, nor money talk.  Staying silent on the subject, but will talk about that elephant in the closet and my subject for today:  DISQUISITIONS .

Working on something I call The Reversal Test, when the sun has gone to visit Florida, and left me behind clouds and torrential downpours that dislodge the essential components of a healthy soul, and leave me experimenting from September to April, with my condition:  skin dementia and the long curse of paleness that overcomes me.  Having said that, I will claim it is both arduous and undesirable, but I am reluctant to just pack up and move in with the in-laws and family that has oranges and shade trees in their backyard. 

Instead I look for a philosophical position that justifies my existence in the far away north.  Having said that I continue my blog, which is for me articles and compositions, and discussions and perhaps disquisitions that could also be:  dissertations and explications and all those things we throw to the wind as paper and origami birds, that tweet and fly around the world, serving as the daily distraction and a remedy for skin dementia and an example of mind over matter, and life without the sun.

 

So I am looking for a mental cure to my condition, and the condition my condition is in.  Visualize myself in Tony The Tiger pajamas, walking into the Writer’s Café in South Beach (Miami ), in search for something that provokes a fountain of youth in me, and more smiles than I normally enjoy at home, this time of year. 

Cold and Frozen Expression of a failed life, losing out to skin dementia and a need to talk about it, constantly.  Comes down to my other life and right and wrong ways to do it.  Exaggerating the consequence and making it sound more important than it is, I venture on.  A vulture in the midst of 300 days of rain.  Broken  down and decomposing as mold spores on the under carriage of self and society, weighted down as a free-falling origami bird, no longer viable to fight the wind and weather and seasonal displays of chaos.  I am.

 

Rain-drenched scum and birds of a different dimension, like Fiscal Cliff and Jerusalem and Syria.  Why do I bother, as I can’t change a thing?  Disquisitions are foolish in the scope of a high-caliber rifle going off, and objects in free fall, hoping for a happy landing, somewhere in time.  And without the sun, this is not happening for me, and no amount of talk or blogging about will make it different.  Not just now. 

But for a change of subject and state of mind, I can mention Christmas and Party Time is almost here.  Get out the lights and the 18 year old bottle of Scotch, which never gets open, but sits there.  Taunting you.  Confronting and comforting at the same time, I think about you walking on South Beach, water bottle in hand, sun-glasses in modern tint and fashion, and most of all I think about the sun. 

And wonder, will I survive this day.  And dream I will be back tomorrow, disquisition ready.  Talking about almost anything that makes him feel better,  living his winter life  and learning how to fold the paper into an origami free-falling bird, that is the symbol of his existence, and the Fiscal Cliff he calls home.