Idyllic Schmyllic

  In response to the Daily Post’s daily prompt: What does your ideal community look like? How is it organized and how is community life structured?

I’ve lived perfect moments:

newborn babies cradled, lips pressing against softest cheeks
strains of music so pure that the soul
expands with every note
hands held on a warm summer night
sunsets shared over a bottle of wine, or two
chasing fireflies and catching none

But a perfect community?

one where every citizen feels welcome, safe, respected?
where no one goes hungry or suffers abuse?
where all ideas are honored and no one claims to know the best path for all.

i’ve not seen that.

peace, people!

Feliz Cinco de Mayo

In honor of Cinco de Mayo, the date commemorating the Mexican army’s victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla in 1862, 

–my television will be tuned to Univision all day (or at least until Studly Doright comes home from work). 

–I will substitute sangria for Pinot grigio with my dinner. Heck, maybe I’ll substitute it for my tea at lunch.


What’s a Cinco de Mayo celebration without Guacamole?

 –I will have tacos for lunch and enchiladas for dinner with empanadas for dessert. 

¡Vivé Mexíco!

¡Paz, gente! (Peace, people!)


Some of yous got it,

Some of yous ain’t

Trouble is yous that ain’t got it

Ain’t aware of that state.

Now lookahere friend

I knows what I gots

I’m one classy broad

The rest of yous ain’t snot.

I started writing this poem on a whim, and all of a sudden I found myself humming one of my favorite songs from the movie, Chicago. Queen Latifah and Catherine Zeta Jones–two classy dames lamenting the end of good manners:

(Be sure to click on the link above.)

Flip Flop

tried to stay the course
knuckled down and buckled up,
but life intruded.
but who can’t relate
to life’s ups, downs, and u-turns?
just those who’ve not loved.


As if flip flopping
was not a survival mode
for our battered souls.

In response to the Daily Post’s daily prompt.

Good Old Days

I had a motorcycle exactly like the one pictured below back in 1977 or ’78. Even better, I was once as slender as the young woman on this DT 175 Yamaha.

Now nearly 38 years, two kids, and probably 50 pounds later I can look back on those days with great fondness, at the time though life felt very complicated. 

Studly and I were learning how to be married. We were just kids, really, and pretty selfish. I was unwilling to learn the domestic arts. Studly felt like I should be able to do everything his mom did, and smile in the process.

I was ready to enjoy freedom from parental control, while Studly, raised in a very male-dominant household thought it was his duty to provide me with structure. That did not sit well with me.

We butted heads. Often. But we also had a lot going for us, not the least of which were our respective senses of humor and the commitment to making this very young marriage work. There were a lot of folks who didn’t think we’d make it, so of course we had to prove them wrong.

Not long after we married Studly went to Ronnie’s Yamaha in Dumas, Texas, and bought me a little yellow scooter called a Chappy. I rode that little scooter all over town and gained some much needed self-confidence. 

After I proved I could stay up on two wheels Studly came home with a DT 175 like the one pictured above. I loved that bike. We took it to the Canadian River, just north of Amarillo, almost every weekend, and while David took on the big challenges I learned how to ride in deep sand (go fast!) and shallow water (go slow!) and on rock strewn trails (pick a line and give the bike its head!). I even ran over a couple of snakes and a good friend (sorry Patricia!)

After our kids came along I stopped riding. It just didn’t seem to be a motherly thing to do. Back then I was pretty bound by what others thought of me. Dammit. Oh, to be young again and to know what I know now! 

Once our youngest graduated high school I took up riding again and wondered why on earth I hadn’t been on a bike for 18 years. There is something about having one’s own motorcycle that is both grounding and freeing, especially for a woman.

Even though I have a mega scooter now, I’d like to find an old “foo foo” bike like the DT. It wasn’t outstanding at any one aspect of riding, but good at most of them. And the memories of those early days of marriage are all wrapped up in it somehow.

I guess if there’s a take away from this post it’s that no matter at what stage of life we find ourselves we should do what makes us happy and more fulfilled. To heck with what others think.

Peace, people.


Nationwide Insurance airs a commercial in which actress Mindy Kaling comes to the conclusion that she is invisible because she feels that way much of the time.

In restaurants servers walk right by her. On the sidewalk she goes unnoticed. In the course of the advertisement Mindy embraces her invisibility and begins to take advantage of it (see photo below).

With many folks this theme won’t resonate at all, but I totally get it. I’m the woman who after being seated at a table in a cafe will eventually have to flag down a waiter, who’ll then say, “oh, I didn’t see you sitting over there.”

Hello?! I’m five feet, eight inches tall and have bright red hair. How can someone not see me?

And I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve checked in with the receptionist at the salon or the doctor’s office or the auto dealership only to sit for an hour or more before someone notices me and says, “Oh, Ms. Noyes, have you been here all this time?”

I guess I am partly responsible for my invisibility. The minute I’m seated out comes my book and the world around me disappears. Apparently, so do I.

In the Nationwide ad Mindy finally gets noticed by a bulked up basketball player when she shamelessly fondles his bicep. I wonder how long I could get away with a stunt like that if I kept my nose in a book? It might be worth a try.

“Invisible Mindy” helps herself to ice cream

Peace (and notice me) People!

New It Again

Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: When was the last time you did something new? How did it feel? Would you do it again?

Arriving in
Antigua in April to
Cobblestoned streets and
Cacophonous markets.
Bargaining for woven
Goods using
Three years’ worth of
High school
Español and a few
Jouncing along with
Family and
Friends in three-wheeled
Conveyances called
Drinking Picosas at a
Roadside stand.
Reveling in the sight of
Volcanoes exhaling into the
Rising early to the melody of
Guatemalan songbirds.
Rejoicing in the marriage of
Two beautiful souls in a
Place called

Would I visit Antigua again?
¡Sí! ¡Sí! ¡Sí!