In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:
Write an anonymous letter to someone you’re jealous of.
Dear Pampered House Cat,
I want the life you have:
Sleeping all day, anyplace you’d like. Carousing all night, chasing imaginary mice.
Claiming a lap, making it your own.
Purring when petted, knowing you belong.
Yes, dear kitty, I’m jealous of you
Sincerely,
Anonymous (but you know who.)
Peace, people!
In response to the Daily Prompt: The clothes (may) make the (wo)man. How important are clothes to you? Describe your style if you have one, and tell us how appearance impacts how you feel about yourself.
i often complain
that i’ve not found my style
some days i’m tailored,
then gypsy awhile.
my brain and my body
can seldom agree
on what I should wear
or what looks best on me.
at my age you’d think
I’d have developed a plan
for looking my best
or as sharp as i can.
alas i’m afraid
more often than not
my style comes across
looking none too hot.
I have some incredibly stylish friends, women and men who know exactly what defines their look. I admire their fashion sense. Occasionally I can almost picture my own style and decide to build a suitable wardrobe. Then something odd or offbeat catches my eye and I’m off on a tangent. A style tangent.
In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Land of Confusion. Which subject in school did you find impossible to master? Did math give you hives? Did English make you scream? Do tell!
I was a smart kid. Not motivated, and certainly not well-directed in my educational goals, but I had a talent for learning and for taking tests.
My family wasn’t particularly concerned with my academic performance. They were pleased that I earned good grades, but there really weren’t any expectations that I’d go on to college.
For the first eight years of my formal education all the subjects were ridiculously easy for me: English grammar and literature, Social Studies, even Science and Mathematics. Seldom did I need to study, even though had I done so on a regular basis I might have ended up near the top of my class.
In ninth grade my good grades landed me in an accelerated algebra class and my educational wheels fell off. I worked my butt off in that class, but the concepts were so abstract that my brain was unable to process them.
I literally thought that I must have missed the lesson explaining what “n” and “x” were, so night after night I’d reread my algebra text from the beginning trying to unlock the code. Surely, I thought, if I could just figure out their values I’d be okay. The concept of a variable just made no sense.
With the help of a good and brilliant friend I managed to stay afloat, even though she occasionally became exasperated and annoyed with my questions. It seemed simple to her, why couldn’t everyone “get it?”
Our accelerated class churned through one and a half years of algebra in one school year, then we moved on to Geometry. Holy crap. If I’d been merely struggling in algebra, geometry put me down for the count. I lasted half the year and then dropped the class since it wasn’t required to graduate.
I can’t even remember what replaced Geometry in my schedule, I just know that for the first time in my academic life I doubted myself. It was a lowdown, crummy feeling.
Following my junior year my family moved to a slightly larger town. I met my future husband (Studly Doright was so cute back then) and even though I went to junior college for a year my heart wasn’t in it, and I was petrified by the idea that I wouldn’t be able to conquer college algebra. So I married my Studly and we settled into our lives together.
When our children were in elementary school we decided that I should go back to college, and with a totally new focus I rocked that scene. To my surprise and delight I was still a smart kid. With trepidation I faced my college algebra class. What was once too abstract for my 14-year-old brain now made sense. Amazing!
It was the only class I didn’t earn an “A” in, though, preventing me from graduating college with a perfect 4.0. But, that “B” felt like a victory after all those years, and summa cum laude looked great on my transcript.
Take that, algebra! 
Peace, people!
The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: What’s the household task you most despise doing? That’s too easy.
Scrubbing toilets, ugh!
an onerous job, no doubt
deliver me please!
Surely scientists
who’ve put humans on the moon
could solve this problem.
A self-cleaning john
for every domicile
let this be our goal!
Today is Mother’s Day, and I really think all moms should get a break from trying to write a post on the Daily Post’s daily prompt. I am a mom; therefore, here is my take on the prompt: Journey.
In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Do you feel uncomfortable when you see someone else being embarrassed? What’s most likely to make you squirm?
living a cringe-free
life; wouldn’t that be super?
i just can’t comply.
errors in spelling
and grammar, too make me cringe
including my own.
even smart people
can commit cringe-worthy crimes
i’m pleading the fifth.
Jealousy is not
An emotion to envy.
Ironic, really.
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Green Eyed Lady.
Don’t hate me because
I am beautiful, she said.
I am smarter, too.
Peace, people!
Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Forgive and Forget–share a story about a time when you had a difficult time forgiving a perpetrator, but you forgave them.
I stated my point of view
to which they responded,
“Surely you’re joking!”
“We’re still waiting for the punchline.”
When I held firm; explaining my rationale, they responded,
“Abomination!” and
“Thou shalt not!” and took themselves out of my life.
I became more militant.
Demanding to be heard.
They became more deeply entrenched in beliefs I’d left behind long ago.
The thing is, I have forgiven those who don’t understand my point of view.
And I can forget how I felt when
they scoffed at my beiefs.
I’m not sure the same can be said of them. And, I forgive them of that, as well.
Peace, People.
Daily Post’s Daily Prompt–“You the sandwich: If a restaurant were to name a dish after you, what would it be?”
Frankly I’m surprised someone hasn’t already named a dish after me, but since, as far as I know they have not, let me wax eloquent on the topic.
The Noyzinator Deluxe
Two slices of soft white bread
Mayonnaise spread on both slices
Three slices of thick sliced bacon
Ripe avocado slices
Two fresh tomato slices
Leafy green lettuce
A dash of salt
Fresh ground pepper
–serve with a side of fresh grapes–
Duchess of Sandwich
the noblest of titles
conveyed upon me.
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!
Praying for Eyebrowz 