It Crossed My Mind Blog

A Box of Books...my traveling library!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 02:00:00 +0000

I have this box of books I travel with. In this day and age the idea of traveling with books seems very old fashioned to me but yet I do it. They are like a security blanket in a way. I can look at them and my mind comes alive. Here they are:

Mary Oliver's New and Selected Poems, volume 1. I was leafing through her poetry yesterday and found this stanza and it fit perfectly into the fabric of my life. We have just returned from a month in China and Vietnam so I think you will see why.

Sunrise

this morning
climbing, the familiar hills
in the familiar
fabric of dawn, I thought

of China
and India
and Europe, and I thought
how the sun

blazes for everyone just
so joyfully
as it rises

Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass. This very thick paperback book welcomes me to flip to any page to see if I can draw some inspiration or meditation waking up my mind. Today I turned to the Inscriptions section to find this. I could only think how modern he would be even today.

One's-self I SingOne's-self

I sing, a simple separate person
Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-masse.

Of Physiology from top to toe I sing,
Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worth for the Muse, I say the Form complete is worthier far, The Female equally with the Male I sing.

Of Life immense in passion, pulse and power,
Cheerful, for freest action from's under the law devine,
The Modern Man I sing.

Malcolm Gladwell's Blink and The Tipping Point follow me everywhere. If you have not read these books you are missing an opportunity to understand what is happening before your very eyes. These books explain our society and the way we perceive what is happening around us. The subtitles are perfect; The power of thinking without thinking! (Blink) and How little things can make a big difference! (The Tipping Point). In reference to this author I would also suggest that you watch his TED talks. This man is amazingly perceptive and really funny.

Thank you for stopping by.

b

Rear Window or Being Watched by the Neighbors

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 21:23:00 +0000

Someone told me a while ago that my husband looked and acted like the late Jimmy Stewart. I had never seen my husband as a movie star. I guess I was too close to get the connection.

Then we moved into a house with a small backyard and a fence he could see over. I am reminded of the classic movie Rear Window that starred Stewart and Grace Kelly. In the movie the leading man had broken a leg and was confined to a reclining bed or chair that looked out the rear window of his house. The comings and goings of the people that lived behind him became his entertainment both day and night. He saw a murder if my memory serves me correctly and almost got himself killed because of what he saw.

My husband is acting like Jimmy Steward now. The rear window is his morning window to the world. He is tall and he has a cup of coffee every morning sitting up in bed. It is his buffer between night and day. So in the last 2 month since we moved into this new location he has had an opportunity to watch the neighbors morning routine day after day. He confided in me this morning that he had finally figured out their routine. Up at 6:30 a.m., light on in the kitchen, dog let out, dog back in, breakfast standing up (because he never saw them sit at the table) and out the door. The man left first at 7:00 a.m. and his wife and son at 7:15 a.m. The garage door was on the left side of the dining room because he could see the car when the man left. It was as though he was on stake out. I may need to call those rear window people and warn them not to do anything illegal, at least in the morning. They are being watched!

I just thought you needed to know.

b

How to be more yourself...change the story!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Tue, 08 Feb 2011 18:34:00 +0000

New Blog Header...free online!

Now it is almost spring (she said hopefully), it is time for me to look at making some changes. Lighten things up or move something or even set out on a quest for information. I need some shift in my life...as I grow older I find change is a good thing! It tells me the story of my life is not over.

The old person's challenge is to find ways to move things about without putting things in our way. It is said that we cannot even change the way we shower let alone the way we walk or talk. I may write blithely about breaking habits or moving into a smaller space but I am like so many people my age...change comes harder all the time. My favorite quote is "We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves." (Lynn Hall, Where Have All the Tigers Gone?, 1989) I like the quote because the word change takes on a different meaning...I am not becoming someone else. I am simply becoming more like myself! Could it be that making change as we age becomes harder because we are nearer to truly being ourselves?

You can tell by the way this has begun that I will not be getting rid of anything, I will not sort the closet although the closet could stand a good sorting. I will not be clearing my desk or cleaning the shed. I am talking about more subtle changes that lift my spirits. I will do it keeping in mind that my husband lives here too. My change probably should not require him to move the computer off the side table where he can reach it without getting up. No, this change will be about me!

About.com has a whole section devoted to spring cleaning...there are how to's and when to's and even analyzing to's. You can follow a list for cleaning drawers and getting organized! Honestly, I have never done spring cleaning...not the way my mother did. She had two sisters to help and they would clean three houses in three days...I think they even may have had a little fun. I am more apt to buy a coupon from Groupon...today here in Tucson they had one for $40 that would get a professional 2 hours cleaning top to bottom. I like that a lot. While I am very clean I cannot honestly say I like the process. I think there will be some rearranging that will bring the sun into my life even on a rainy day.

I think I need is a little change in scenery...without a vacation. I will trade pictures on the living room wall with those in the bedroom. I will change the header on one of my blogs. A chair will be moved...not very much...but when I look up from a book, I will see a different view. The hummingbird feeder will be moved from this window to that and the hanging plants will take it's place. I will buy spring flowers and put them on my windowsill until the temperature is warm enough that they can live outdoors. These are small things that make me feel happy inside. That, my friends, is very important.

Altered Photo...can you find me ?

If it turns out that I like those small changes I may even be brave and let the mirror tell a different story about me personally. I could alter the way I look in some small ways. I could get my hair cut, get some highlights and change my nail polish. I may even decide to wear that blouse I bought in Mexico that looks totally different from anything else I own. Maybe that blouse will reflect who I really am! While I search for an altered view, who knows what I may find. As I strip away the layers of notions planted in my mind so long ago, I may find a person that I won't even recognize...my hope is that she will be more clearly me. And I hope I like her a lot!

Have a wonderful day!

Fiction: In the Next Booth

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Thu, 11 Nov 2010 02:04:00 +0000

Gesture, Immediate, Treasure
Three Word Wednesday
A take off on Tom's post.

   When we walked in I immediately began looking around the room. What treasured story would I find today in the greasy diner near the interstate. Then I saw them.
   I could only think that the small boy must be very tired. His eyes squinched in at the corners when he looked at the man sitting across from him at the table. He gestured toward the window where a beautiful bicycle sat. It's his new treasure, I thought. I could see he was worried about the dog sniffing at the tires but the man, his dad I assumed, told him Never you mind.  The man raised his hands and I could see they were bandaged and realized what he had probably just suffered through.
   There's a lot of anger in that man, I thought to myself. Where do you suppose the mother is?
     Agnes, my husband said sensing that I was eves dropping, it is none of your business. Let's just eat in peace this one time!
     I knew to let it go but still, why was the boy so...messy? Didn't the man know to comb his hair and straighten his jacket? And a bagel and cream cheese for a little kid? Why didn't he order the snow toast? I'm thinking that little boy needed a woman's touch. There is no doubt about it.
   I wasn't being nosy....but still a snatch of the conversation floated across the room as the place grew quiet for a few seconds so I leaned a little closer...I will hang lights...your bedroom...maybe steak...is your mother happy?...then the roar of a fan over the grill switched on and the voices were drowned out. I knew in my heart of hearts that the man thought the boy would not remember and would be okay. I could see that the little boy didn't realize how his father was wounded...the man would never forget the hurt in his son's eyes. I also knew that they would never be the same again...never.
   I wonder why I always do that...watch and fill in the blanks...how am I to know that mom is not at work today and dad just fell off the ladder.
   Why do I always think of war and divorce and anger? But most of all why can't I just be quiet?
   Isn't it a shame how families never eat together anymore, I heard myself saying. Why look around! Women with children alone and then that man and the little boy. Isn't it just a shame. Our country is coming to no good end. Single parents with worried children. It is just wrong!
     As we walked out my heard my husband mumbling to himself....Agnes, I swear, I am going to quit bringing you along. You can ruin a man's appetite!

b

Thank you Tom!!!

Popeye and Me...Sunday Scribblings

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 19:44:00 +0000

Image via Wikipedia

Barbara and Friends

Finding people that can endure my quirks and love the friction in the relationship is not an easy task. But, as Popeye so wisely pointed out "I yam what I yam!" I would like to be able to mold my personality to fit yours but....well..."I yam what I yam."

I celebrated my 69th birthday this week and I am very grateful that I have friends that continue to love me in spite of my faults and failings. We are not any of us perfect. But when a group of people find each other and continue to enjoy the others company, it is an honest to goodness miracle. Especially when we do not share some basic beliefs, both political and religious.

So, happy Sunday Scribblings friction!!! Life is good.

b

Too Much Excitement!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Wed, 27 Oct 2010 19:47:00 +0000

Trailer from Cop Out

I am getting ready to write a blog on Retire in Style but first I had to check and see what IIIWW had for us this week. I smiled because I was reminded of a friend that does not understand the nuances of humor in a movie. Week before last she was lured into the theater by her friend that loves a good action flick and can see the humor in flying objects and car crashes.

When my friend came home, she said she just didn't understand how anyone could like a movie with that much noise and action. In fact "It was just too much excitement for one day!" fragile, rampant, tremor would not have been words she chose for any Wednesday...period!

Retire In Style

Three Word Wednesday

The Dishes x 3!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sat, 23 Oct 2010 21:31:00 +0000

Beautiful bamboo designs graced the china in the modern blond cabinet that stood in the long room. A florescent light that hung from the ceiling made the dishes glow as though they were radio active. Fiberglass curtains hung at the windows. The space age design stood in sharp contrast to dishes designed for a beach house in Hawaii. The family sat lined up on a nylon tufted couch and straight backed chairs. Tension in the room felt like ice on frostbite.

Momma and Poppa gave them to me the oldest was telling her two younger sisters. Sonny bought the dishes in Korea and I got a real good price on the hutch at the G&H Hardware Store. You know how Oron can drive a deal like no body's business. Isn't that right Poppa?

It had been a long week. The sisters had spent long days doing spring house cleaning for their Momma and Poppa. Tempers may have been a little on edge. The oldest sister had a job teaching...she was the one with the education. The two younger were the cleaners held in reserve for when they were needed. Try as they might, the words of praise for their sisters new treasures caught in their throats. Poppa had said so many times that they would never be good at cards because what they felt traveled across their faces in an instant. By the time the two turned to face the rest of the family, their husbands knew that there was going to be problems.

Nothing was ever said or at least none of them witnessed what happened between the girls and their parents. One sister was given a set of pottery dishes from the local hardware store within a few day...she lived next to the parents so they knew it was in their best interest to appease her quickly. She was insulted at the quality and she exploded in her kitchen. The dishes were returned without another word.

When summer came, the two younger took their parents to Canada where they found two perfect sets of china, place setting for twelve. Poppa thought the exchange rate was perfect and it appeared that everyone was happy again.

The oldest still visited on Sundays with her husband and her parents listened carefully to the hints for new treasures. The dishes had taught them to always select the treasure that they could afford in triplicate. The oldest sister was a fast learner so she calculated the cost time three and waited to see if her parents would bite.

Jealousy between the sisters took strange shape in that family. Rather than ever disagree openly, the messages were subtle and very lady like. In the end though the parents learned that one set of dishes did not mean one set of dishes. They bought everything in triplicate from then on. Every holiday and birthday found three boxes, each exactly the same save for the name on the label.

There is an old saying "The one that dies with the most toys will emerge as the winner." It was a game they all loved to play!

b

A Link about Poetry at Magpie Tales!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Thu, 07 Oct 2010 22:29:00 +0000

I just finished posting a poem for Fall on my other blog. I left a link over at Magpie Tales. I love the prompts in pictures from this blog. If you are a poet or even a wannabe, please do head on over and give it a try.

I also stopped by a blog called Jingle. I realize that judgment of poetry or prose is entirely subjective. Still I love the feel of her poetry painting a picture in my mind...she began

I wonder

If I could ignore

The call of Fall....

The opening lines had me. Please go on over and take a look.

That's all for today...I just wanted to share with you.

Three Word Wednesday...three short notes!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Wed, 06 Oct 2010 16:30:00 +0000

The Saguaro Tipped Over!!! Sigh!

Three Word Wednesday

hint, lust, sheen...I claim these three words as my own...I am not sharing boys and girls! Sorry!

The Hint...I lost my ironing board and I did the "I lost my ironing board dance all over the house." I asked my husband to get it out for me and he could not find it. Then I had a scary thought. Was this a hint that he would never iron ever???? He actually has done this a few time during our 50 years of marriage so hope spring eternal. I found it hiding behind a blouse in my closet. I am still hopeful. Maybe he sees entering my closet as akin to going into the den of evil?

The Sheen...I colored my hair and it turned out really blond with a bright sheen...but really, really blond. I will make it darker today...I decided I don't care if it is shiny.

The Lust...Did you hear that they had a tornado in northern Arizona? While we live in the south we still were hit by very high winds. It blew our beautiful huge Saguaro Cactus over. It is such a shame because I knew that all my neighbors lusted for that cactus. In fact they called us to let us know...I think they were having a party. What am I going to do for bragging rights now?

Sheen, lust, hint...and just a note from Barbara!

b

If you have not clicked the follower button I would appreciate it if you would. I will click yours if you click mine!!!! ;) Leave a comment so I will know who you are.

Magpie Tales: Passing the Torch

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sat, 02 Oct 2010 17:14:00 +0000

Magpie Tales. #34

She glanced up at the shelf where it had been…the lamp so magic it would not be found. They decided to just let it be and so it had been since the Mother was gone.

In a earlier time it had passed back and forth from sister to sister…each hiding the precious glass from the other’s view. They were unaware of the spell it would weave. It seemed to vanish without warning from the shelf or draw. Then one or the other would find it resting innocently on the side table. The lamp would choose who held the vase full of liquid gold that burned so brightly on a winter’s night....for a while.

They had learned that it did not like quarreling or clangs. The sweet breath of a baby would bring it shining to the room in the night. At first they had thought the other was playing tricks. But time passed and they knew it could not be a trick. The Mother only smiled in that knowing way and went back to reading her letters.

When Mother passed on that summer’s eve, the lamp’s light fell low on the living room mantle. This mother so unique held the keys to all that they knew. One of the sisters would be chosen to fill her place but neither sought the prize. They sat in the lantern's shadow and knew that the time had come. A torch of a kind would be passed to a new generation…but the lamp would decide when it could be passed on to the chosen one.

Games that the sister’s had played ceased to be and they would wait for the sign to begin again.

For the love of Pete!!!! Happy Birthday Shel Silverstein's

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Mon, 27 Sep 2010 20:57:00 +0000

My future tree house builder!

For the love of Pete

She stood with hands on hips.

Her mouth just opened

And out it came,

A mother's plaintive cry

Why oh why

Did you....?

The shed was unsheathed

Gone simply gone.

Instead there was a house
In the tree on the lawn.

Why oh why

Did you....?

One board was all

They thought at the start.

They were just kids

Seeing only a small part.
The only saw

A small board in their hand.

Their tree house was beautiful

But Dad's shed was
No where to be found!!!

In a funny sort of way

She couldn't find the wrong.

For the love of Pete

Why oh why

Did you.....?

Smile.

In honor of Shel Silverstein's Birthday

September 25, 1932

Sunday Scribblings

Monday Poetry Train

Writer's Island

...So Is He! Proverbs 23

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Mon, 20 Sep 2010 03:02:00 +0000


Seeking photo by etorris 2010

Are you looking
For Bliss in the Rain
Eyes half closed so
The mist won't blur your sight.
What you think in your
Heart will become your
Paint palette shading
The droplets
So clean and pure.
How you see
A dawn of the day
Is not ordained by
The cloud or the light.
You choose the
Hue of each band
The rainbow reveals.
Are you
Finding
Good in Evil?
Fast in Slow?
Long in Short?
Clean in Disorder?
Joy in Sorrow?
Learning in Ignorance?
Me in You?
Hope in death?
Or like a mirror
All things reversed?
No pearl should
Ever slip away because
You could not find
The beauty in the shell
Of the oyster.
Rough and dark surface
Hides a sparkling clean core
The jewel is
Ready for discovery.
You choose the
Hue of each band in
The rainbow reveals.
The grace of a cleansing rain
When blended on a palette
Paint box, turns to a muddy black.
Do you dwell on the black
Or do you revel in the
Colors that make black
So gloriously beautiful!
"As a man thinketh in his heart
So is he!"
Proverbs Chapter 23 Verse 7

b

PS:  Oh by the way would you be a follower?  I know it is presumptuous  but I just need a few so my "follower" button does not look so very  pathetic.  Thank you.  

Albert is Dead and Gone! Friday Fiction

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 20:42:00 +0000

I was trying to write a piece for Friday Fiction...Albert (I think that was his name) needed to die. The poor sad paranoid little man was the most annoying character I had ever written about. And that was not all...he was a peeping Tom stalker of the first order. The story was not very long...just right I thought. He had died at his own hand by accident while sitting on the toilet. (You figure that one out.) I clicked publish. I waited patiently for it to appear. That was when Albert and his story disappeared into cyberspace never to be seen again.

I don't know what went wrong so don't even ask. It may have been a computer glitch or maybe it was just karma...Albert was not a nice man. Even after he was lost, dead and gone the police were looking for his killer or I assume they were. If they had gotten a break(through) on the case, he might still be alive on my blog today. But no!!!

I am very frustrated and will be very careful about the save now button on the new post page and my loading blue line at the bottom of my browser page. So Albert goodby and good ridance. You have caused me enough annoyance to last me for several days.

b

Writer's Island
Friday Fiction
Sunday Scribblings ( I laughed, the only way I am early for Sunday Scribblings is if Laini or Megg are very late getting the prompt up. Thank you girls!!!)

PS: Oh by the way would you be a follower? I know it is presumptuous but I just need a few so my "follower" button does not look so very pathetic. Thank you.

Feeling for Tom...how is that going to be?

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 22:43:00 +0000

Three Word Wednesday
break, negative, surface

London (pictures of NYC are not digital...sigh!)

So, I don't know if you have been following but Tom (our IIIWW guy) is in the big city! My husband and I were talking about him over breakfast this morning. How would that be for someone like us that live in a small big city to move to the Big Apple? Would we do that willingly or would we demur at the opportunity and simply read about the adventure from afar? I am sure that Tom wrestled with the decision before he made the leap.

Tom wrote in a newspaper article not so many years ago about his relationship with a world intertwined with nature:

This is where I'm supposed to be, for right now, right here. Surrounded by the wilds of Northern California and enough gear and time off to explore. A walk into the woods, a chance to repair the mental weight of modern life.

Now he has sought out "the mental weight of modern life" at it's best and worst. NYC is a quick study in all that the world has to offer. All you need to do is take notes and sit down and write. I really do envy him.

Still, I thought about it all morning. My emotional response surprised me. It makes me tense to even think about leaving one life for another. Pondering a break from my routine makes me uneasy. I don't want to be negative...the tension is filled with yearning and excitement...the very thought of moving to NYC for even a month makes me want to dance and sing. But still, I would be nervous and tense. I too am linked to nature and green flowers and space between people. Riding on the teeter totter between yes and no is very interesting. Right now I am leaning toward the no side.

Yet, I was born rural with a heart that yearned for the city. I still need large doses of dirty streets with people where they should not be. I love a hotdog from a cart and sales at Macys. On the three occasions I have been in New York I felt perfectly at home...people ask ME for directions. But I knew that I did not belong...I was an outsider with a friendly face. Policemen and fellow bus riders liked that. I always wondered how long before they got to know me and told me to wipe that stupid grin off my face...life is really hard! they might say.

"Surface tension" is that thing that makes a fall into the swimming pool on our belly hurt. Even though the water is...well water, it still has a surface that is hard to break through. I suppose it could be the perfect symbol for the leap into the pool of life. Toms name for his blog, Surface Tension, fits his life perfectly I think.

NOTE: I encourage you ALL to get the Share button for your blogs so we can share your writing on Twitter or our Facebook accounts. The Share button for this blog is at the bottom near the comment button. Check it out. Better yet get Twitter yourself and put a button on your blog so we can link to each other. I think you would all find that your readership increases. That is a good thing isn't it?

b

Trust Me

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 17:24:00 +0000

He squinted at me through those myopic eyes as I asked him the closest route to the Interstate. Trust me he said, just follow that road and turn left at the intersection where the Blue Bingo Champions Hall of Fame sits on the corner. You will come to the freeway in just a few miles. Then he said it again, Trust.....

I could only think of the Annual Naked Bungee Jumping Competition off the railroad trestle near my home town. Everything went fine for many years until that unexpected train came along. I was invited to return and partake several month ago. In January no less. Trust me they had said you will love it and such nice people come from all over. There will be people you know. I didn't go...people I know? I am sure you can see it was a bad idea.

I suppose my faith in the person that says Trust me is not as deep as it should be.

b

Sunday Scribblings...Faith

The Gift of Thyme

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 15:37:00 +0000

Lunch at the Arizona Inn...Virginia, Mary and Elaine Yesterday I talked about Mary and the Ordinary Day. Mary is the friend that told me about Tuesday Gifts last year. A Tuesday Gift, if you don't remember, is a gift given on any day of the week with no reason. They are the very best kind of gift...they say "I like you" on a plain old Ordinary Day.

So last night when we shared dinner and cake with Mary, my husband and I gave Mary a gift of Time (thyme). She sat at the dinner table talking about the schedule she maintained on a daily basis...Mass, lunch with friends, exercise, meal preparation, golf and much, much more. She said there is just not enough TIME.

I could not help but smile all during the meal. I knew that when she came to our house for cake and coffee, a gift would be waiting for her.

I had gone to the nursery and bought three different kinds of thyme. I potted them in a simple clay pot and placed a rusted iron bird on the edge for decoration. I wish it were this easy to fill all the needs for my friends. I think it would be wonderful to be able to give a friend a pot of good health, smiles or sunshine? It was wonderful satisfying evening. b

We Are Each the love...It was love at first sight!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 03:23:00 +0000

We are each the love of someone's life....
Only someone? Is that all? I think not.
For them it was love at first sight...
Babies loved long before they were born!

b
Thank you Keith
Carry On Tuesday

rooted: lost in our own world

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 23:56:00 +0000

Guatami Tripathy publishes a blog composed mostly of poetry. She has been a great favorite of mine from the time I started writing on this blog. I invite you to take a look at her latest work.

b
rooted: lost in our own world

The View from my iPhone camera!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 23:39:00 +0000

<p>&amp;amp;lt;iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=torristra-20&amp;amp;amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;amp;amp;asins=0470114320&amp;amp;amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;amp;amp;f=ifr" style="padding-top: 5px; width: 131px; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px;" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" align="left" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"&amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;lt;iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=torristra-20&amp;amp;amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;amp;amp;asins=0817424482&amp;amp;amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;amp;amp;f=ifr" style="padding-top: 5px; width: 131px; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px;" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" align="left" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"&amp;amp;gt;</p>

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Sunday Scribblings

Brayden hiding his face.

#228 - View


Brayden loving the view iPhone.

I discovered that if a child can see themselves on the digital screen while you are taking a picture you are guaranteed a smile! They just like the view better...after all who doesn't like to look at themselves in the mirror.

Have a wonderful day!

b

Why Take Myself Too Seriously?

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sat, 14 Aug 2010 01:52:00 +0000

Joke, leverage, remedy
Three Word Wednesday Prompt #CCI

DePot Bay, Oregon (just because)!

I know I take myself too seriously...not only writing because I feel the need but also feeling the need to have someone read what I have written! As though what I write is important to anyone but me. I seems to be a big joke and I am the brunt. There is no remedy unfortunately. No pill or even a "burn" by another blogger will turn me away...and I have had that happen. Once I wrote a blog while I was very sick and boy did I get called on that one! Believe it or not I did consider quitting the blog and taking up knitting! My hurt feelings passed pretty quickly and I was back at the computer the next day!

But I do like to have a purpose for writing...a little comment here and there, maybe someone will click on one of the icons in the yellow bar at the bottom of the page and say they digg my writing or even tweet me up (scottie). I am thrilled with 25 cents in earnings when someone clicks on an ad on the page. I don't have any leverage with a publisher or connections in NYC. All I have is my life and my optimistic personality.

I think I will just quit taking myself seriously at all...I wear hearing aids, have my hair pulled up with two barretts and am wearing a tank top without....well you get the picture. I would take a picture but a big zit has appeared on my face right under the wrinkles that fall down from my right eye! Egads folk! I know a joke when I see one! Smile!

Have a wonderful day. Hop on over to Retire in Style Blog if you have time. That is where I am hanging out more and more. I also publish on Hub Pages. Come by and see me sometime.

b

Have a great day!

SETTING OUT! Poetry for Sunday Scribblings

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 04:17:00 +0000

THE BICYCLE by Barbara

Sunday Scribblings

Half-way....
The question place in our quest.
One makes the decision
Should I go on?
The place where lovers decided how
Much they care for each other.
The place where the race is won or lost.
Forgotten could be retrieved.
Past half way will be too far
Less...the choice is easier.
Turn around and look behind.
Is that place or thing you left
Dear enough that you
Would abandon what could be yours
On the road ahead?
Turn around and look behind.
Could it be
Sometimes life is simply setting out?
It may have nothing to do
With getting beyond the
Half way or arriving.
The journey may not even
Have a half way.
There may only be a
Beginning, life and an end.

b

What if they didn't go home...a Grandmother's worst fear!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Fri, 06 Aug 2010 03:37:00 +0000

Drink Feeble Protest

Brayden in a Basket....toys out him in!

Three Word Wednesday!

I'm not sure how to say this other than to just come out plain and simple...being a Grandmother scares me sometimes. I thought the time my son came home bleeding from the head after his friend threw the hammer up in the air and it landed on his skull scared me. It turns out my grandchildren can top even that.

See sometimes, when they come to visit for the day, they don't want to go home. I will protest feebly that I don't want them to go either. I am such a liar. It scares me to death that one of these days my children will let them stay forever. There is not enough drink of any flavor to get me through something like that.

I have taken to keeping a jar of candy close at hand and the only way the grandchildren can have any is if they go home. I caught myself playing the "I am old" card the other day...you know...I would love to have you stay but Grandma is getting old! I am so pathetic.

There you have it...confession of a terrified grandma! What more can you want! :)

b

PS Did I tell you all I finally have my Kindle Reader. If you remember I was hoping to earn enough money with my Adsense account to buy one. I would not let myself even think about it until I earned a little money and I finally got an Adsense check in the mail. Then I traded my old iPhone with my son for his old kindle! I am just loving it! Isn't that cool?

I Thank All those That Stand in Awe of my many Skills!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 03:34:00 +0000

This is the speech I will give for the Mother Day Button Award...I am sure it will be coming in the mail any day now.

Dear Family and Friends,

I thank you all for gathering here today to honor ME of all people I understand that the Mother's Day Button is for my many accomplishments. I really don't know how I can possibly thank all those people that were there for me along the way.

First of all I will need to thank my husband...he has provided many years of support and never did call me to task for the burned dinners and the pink socks and underwear. He knew I was busy raising three children and would not have dreamed of making my job harder. Thank you dear husband.

I will need to thank my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, nieces, nephews and poor Aunt Olive's and her husband Jeremiah for being related to me. After all the fact that anyone came to this occasion is a wonder and without them I could not have had a large enough crowd to not be embarrassing. Aunt Olive can ride back home with us after the awards. Uncle Jeremiah got into the wine so he will be riding the bus.

The reason for my Mother's Day Button Award

I will need to thank my children for growing up...I am so grateful that you did not fall out the oak trees or burn down the house with the lighter and the airplane glue. I am particularly grateful that my youngest son is alive and functioning after cutting the cord to the clock with the metal scissors. We could have been parents to a twitching child and I am fairly sure that the award for the Mother's Day Button would not be mine today. My oldest son gets a special thanks for locking himself in the trunk of our car and inviting his baby brother to join him. I would have never know how the trunk lock worked with out him. My skills as a mother increased greatly on that day. I am also grateful that no one ever knew that I yelled occasionally or even slammed a door or two. Thank you children for never ratting me out!

I would also like to thank the person at the grocery that looked away as my child peed on the floor in the middle of a potty training exercise. That sort of thing would not have made me look good and so I am glad that no one told on me. The fact that I too ignored it and simply walked out of the store could look bad on the award application form. I am sure the person that thought I deserved the button did not include this information.

I would also like to thank the person at the service station that filled a can with gas and lugged it to my car because I was carrying a baby and had two other children trailing behind. A mother's day button is not awarded to a woman that runs out of gas with three children and a small dog in the car. I am sure enough time has passed that no one recalls the incident so we will not bring it up here.

To all those that have stood in awe of my parenting skills...I thank you for you silent reverence. I know that I do not deserve your admiration. After all I am a mere human and even though my skills are many, I am not that special after all.

I will treasure my button always and will wear it with pride. I do understand that it can not be returned...much like my children. It is mine forever!

b

for Sunday Scribbling #226: I Would Like to Thank You!

The Journey...what if?

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sat, 31 Jul 2010 16:59:00 +0000

The words were said before I could get them back...did I say that? Glancing around it seemed no one had heard so it was as though they had never been spoken.

He was small so he didn't realize that his mother's patience had been worn to a nub! Cupboard doors were open and cereal...Grapenuts...covered the kitchen floor.

Three Children

The second baby girl was at peace on my hip as I surveyed damage, counting the pennies in my purse and the cost of the precious cereal. The little boy smiled at me sweetly and I heard my mother's voice...isn't he cute she would have said.

I regretted the words formed by my lips...if I had known how hard this journey would be, would I have ever begun?

Now as I approach the end of the travels, it frightens me that I might never have felt the ultimate joys of this life. What if I had never given birth to my children? I was allowed to view the journey through their eyes. How sad that would have been!

b

A Forgotten Social Grace...the letter!

noreply@blogger.com (Barbara Torris) — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 19:29:00 +0000

If the letter had come yesterday

I would have know the joy of your words

sooner.

I want to be able to choose to have good news

come fast and bad news get lost

at the post office!

A doorway to meaningful things.

I have a friend who is in love with a hand written, in ink, letter...on a piece of real paper! She has taught me the charm of what is becoming a lost art. The letter may be sent on Monday but will not be in my hands until the week is out. The delay between the writing and the getting seems to enrich the words. Why that is I don't know.

She has written to me about driving past her late mother's house with her grandson. An angel she would have thought as she remarked to her grandson that it was great-grandmother birthday. Maybe she was eating angel food cake with other angels she wrote she had said to him. I could see her smile. She will write about taking a walk or visiting a friend. There is always the mention of a hospice patient she is getting organized in their last days of life and what she had for supper. I look forward to a letter in the mail from her and I am sure you can all see why.

It is a good thing to remember the art of a hand written letter that says thank you or a simple get well card sporting a hand picked stamp. How special such a small thing can make a friend or a child feel. I slipped somehow in remembering social graces when I began begrudging the cost of a postage stamp. Shame on me. Really, I know social graces never go out of style. My friend reminded me of that.

Thank you Mary Grace for being who you are...I do hope you are having a wonderful day. A letter from me will be coming soon.

b

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