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Before you read one more word, please, click the video and listen while you read. Thanks, Ann






No, I didn't get to go see the Craig Ferguson concert.

Instead?

I bought a big screen tv.

I got to thinking about it. For not much more than the cost of tickets, gas, meals, miles to the car, and the weather which might mean having to stay over night? I got dinner, a big screen tv, made WB and Pup VERY happy, and I got WB to agree to being responsible for cooking dinner and NOT washing clothes.

Sounds not so good but trust me, it is. I don't like planning and cooking dinner and WB does a horrific job washing clothes.  For us to continue  doing these activities causes us all kinds of stress.

So we are NOT going to continue doing this anymore.

And did I mention? We bought a big screen tv which makes both of us very happy.

True, Tv's Craig Ferguson would have me laughing tonight. But only me. WB and Pup aren't fans. I'd have to go alone and  I'd have to come back home alone through really bad weather. Back to where nothing was changing. I'd have been  really pizzed off at the spots in the laundry while trying to figure out what to cook for supper night after night.

Now no longer my problem.

New problem?

Trying to figure out where to put the tv. I'm good with that.


Plus tonight (it's now Monday) when they have the Presidential debate on NBC and they ask Newt G about his exwife? I can watch it in all it's 1080p, hooked up to the PS3, and HDtv glory while I'm nibbling on pizza that I didn't cook and folding towels so soft and clean - well it's good.

Then I'm gonna find a copy of something lovely.

Maybe?



Because I love musicals...

Or?



Again because I love musicals and Barbra Streisand.

Or even



Because the only thing I like more than musicals and Barbra Streisand?

This song from Funny Girl.

Nope, I don't care if probably didn't happen. I just love the whole song (and movie).

Or because it's big screen and great sound?

This one



Because no one really knows for sure until that moment when they leave this world...

LOL I'm an optimistic pessimist romantic with pragmatic tendencies.

All on my great big color HDTV, 1080 pixels, connectivity to the computer or PS3 for streaming or playing video games, or looking up a politician's nose.during a debate television all while NOT having to plan or cook dinner or pay 13 dollars plus drinks and pop corn and gas.

That is not something that I could do after going to see TV's Craig Ferguson.




....


(This is a long post.)

As you may remember, I tried something alittle different.

The Zen Happiness Experiment worked much better than expected.

Have decided to try a year of it.

The experiment.

Step one.

The "to do" list for this year.

No more "to do" lists only an "already done it" list. This year? I'm only doing what feels right or that puts a smile on my face.

If it doesn't feel right? Not doing it.

I'm clearing the decks of all the things that have caused my stress level to spike.

No more (LOL) "volunteering" to do kitchen duty or race duty. When you get the other people on the membership roster to actually do kitchen duty or race duty? Give me a call or pay us for the work. Until then? I'm very very very busy.breathing until next December.

LOL @ the timid comment. I think that you actually have to sail with a person before you can know how they'll sail.

I feel ever so much better. Sorry this isn't for venting but I do feel better.

"But wait," you might be thinking, "What about fencing? You were complaining how it made you ache? Are you going to quit?"

Nope, because every time I go to class? I learn more about an activity that makes my son happy.

And? I'm glad to learn something new. It's a pretty cool thing to put on a "already done list". Plus, I'm meeting some really nice people. I'm involved in Pup's life. It's good.  Plus it's alot different than the sailing. Alot. These guys are working hard each week to teach us how to fence. That's not just a one day thing or a "throw a person in the water to teach them to swim" thing. I might not be able to do all the moves in fencing but it won't be from lack of trying or teaching.



More later.



Like the the first Zen Happiness Experiment, I'll keep a record of what happens here.

Hugs, Newt. I don't think that I'd have thought of this without meeting you. Really and truly miss hearing about you and Lexi.

I hope that you're both happy.

Ann

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Bad news.

Just being underemployed and age appropriate doesn't qualify one to run for president of the US.

And since I'm a woman?

I'd have to have the IQ of a squid and male before a woman has her turn.

Another debate for prez tonight on NBC.





Sigh.



.

,







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I need a job.

Apparently, being president for the US pays pretty good, comps the house, and has an excellent retirement.

I qualify AND I'm unemployed.

:D


.

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Good morning!

Boy, do I feel better this morning.

Did I get re-inherited? Don't think so.

Did I get a free ticket to the CF show? Nope.

So why would I be so very chipper this AM?

Politics.

Oh no, not the Newt, Mitt, and Santorum hour. Nah.

This is better.

Take a look.

Wait, hold on. First shoo the kiddies from the room and THEN take a look...



Love the smirk on the anchor peoples face when they anounce the vid. LOL You can just hear them thinking, "Smucks, shouda let us in the court room to report. Now let's see --" LOL I'm sorry can't type now. Too busy laughing and thinking, "Good gravey what this could do for the Bingo trial down here in the sticks. We loooove a good spectical. Especial one where a politician is on the record saying about hookers and herpes. Sorry laughing again.


"If I got herpes I'm gonna drink out of everybodies cup...."





(The puppet hand patting the hooker's hooters after stuffing money in her cleavage is a nice touch.)






LOL. It's so worth the visit to Youtube.

God bless you Youtube.

God bless the First Ammendment.

I feel soooo much better.




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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost 1874–1963 Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

 

 

 

 

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Hello. The next couple of posts aren't the happiest. It's been a long month.


If there's a lesson in this past month or this past year?


I dunno.


Maybe?






It's always sunny the day after a hurricane.

.

.

,

Yesterday, someone asked me, "Where are you from?"

I always stop and think hard when someone asks me that question.  If you ask someone here, they'll more than likely to tell you the name of a place.  "I'm from Bell Rattle." they might say.  There are people who live here that have literally lived here all their lives. They don't have to think.

"I'm from here." they'll tell you.

But not me.

I have to think.

I don't have to think of where I feel  like I'm from.  It's not that. It's how to explain that after years and years and nice people too, I still don't say this is home.

My home or the closest that I've ever seen was washed away twice. Once when I was young in Camile and again in Katrina.

I keep telling myself that it's time to go back for a visit. Time to go back and see if my grand parent's house is still there. I want to go get a poboy and a Barqs at Pirate's Cove. I want to go eat it sitting on the seawall.

<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HXP4UqgNg70" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>iframe>


I want to go home.

Who do you have to ask?  How do I explain? Please.

.

.
I am so homesick right this moment. I haven't seen it for so long. The last time was 8 months before Katrina. I stood there trying to memorize every part of that moment. Dusk. The sky a dark winter blue as dark came running in. I could see the horizon. There I stood. I'm thinking, "This is as close to home as I've ever felt. I'm coming back. I'm coming back home."


 I am sitting on the side of the bed 8 months later. I'm whispering. "CQ CQ CQ Biloxi, Mississippi City, Gulfport, Long Beach, Past Christian, Bay St. Louis, CQ CQ CQ" I'm crying. The weather map shows something that I can't say out loud. All I can say is "CQ CQ CQ."

I haven't been back.

I tried. I talked to my parents about what it was like. They'd gone back for a bit but not to stay. "It's different." is all they'd tell me. "It's not the same. Keep the memory. Don't go back."



It's afternoon. I'm sitting on the bed with my pup. She' taken meds that require her to be still which is never easy for her. I hug her and sing to her. Finally she goes to sleep and I can get up and go get something to drink. She opens her eyes and I tell her it's okay. I'll be back.

I promise.



I've made promises to people. Promises that I keep. I stay here with my son. I've promised. I stay with my pups. I've promised.


But I wonder, when do I keep the promise I made to myself. The one where I promised to go back. To find home.



I'm yelling at WB. Loud. Tears are running down my cheeks and I'm so afraid that my pup will die without me. "I promised." I'm yelling. "I promised her that I wouldn't leave her alone. She'll be scared. I have to go get her. "

He asks me what in the hell do I want.

Like a kid I look at him fierce and yell," I want to go home. I want to take my pups and my son and go home."



There.
I said it.

.



"Everytime you go you take a part of me...."
.

.





Dear Home,

Where are you?

.

.

Sitting here. Waiting. Long night.




I'm not writing about this. Can I use a hug? Yep. Am I going to filet my feelings here in public? No.

Do I have anyone to keep me company, hug my neck, or get me to laugh? No.

Won't be the first time I've spent a long night counting the seconds until the morning. Won't be the last.

I could use a hug right about now. Someone who'd give a dam.




.

.

Gloom.

Tv's Craig Ferguson's concert tour is coming to the south and I can't go.

(Can't afford the ticket.)

Gloom.

Sigh.

People will be having a great time watching the big show and I - I - will spend Friday night washing clothes, Saturday morning at fencing, Saturday afternoon finishing up the insulation, walking and feeding the animals, and washing more clothes. The high light of the weekend will be on Sunday when we go out to eat at the local cafe.

Sigh.

.

.



Oh hurrah for me. I have a new skill to add to my growing list of talents.

This afternoon the sink began to gurgle and water began coming out where it shouldn't. This has happened before. When it has, WB goes into the shed and pulls out something called a "snake". Then he goes to the main clean out for the sewer and viola after much gnashing of teeth and many, many expletives following by the solemn swearing that we'll have to call an after hours plumber or worse one of those septic tank pumping trucks. There's  a gurgle and then miracle, the water flows to somewhere unseen.

Yes, I got the mainline to the septic tank unclogged. All by myself. Well not all by myself. Pup was here. He manned the washing machine, the toilets, the sink, and the telephone call to WB. I was the one to find the "snake", open the main line clean out, put in the "snake", and finally dislodge the clog. It was rank. It was gross. The green rubber boots that I wear when mucking the kennels and cleaning the chicken coop had to be sprayed with disinfectant.

But I did it.

Whooooossssh (and no butt crack to be seen).

Yay.

AuthorAnn mainline, septic tank unclogger.

I am so proud.

.

28 days until Valentine's Day.

My stomach is in a knot this year.

My love life is tricky.

And being celibate sucks.

This year I'm hoping that someone will show up at my door.

Hand me flowers.

Say, "Enough of this. Let's go have fun."



Unfortunately, I'm not that much of an optimist.

.

.

"If you could go back in time and see yourself coming? Where would you tell yourself to be going."

Me? I tell myself to go try.



.

.

The date

January 22, 2011

"...

I think -

No I'm sure that it's Eve's fault.

And Adams.

Stupid apple.

Stupid Snake.

On second thought stupid Eve.

Whomever? We've been paying for it ever since.

Maybe I'm wrong.

Maybe the cold has me sullen.

I've always been a Optimistic Pessimist.


Will think on it.

written by

c anne ford

January 22, 2012

..."

 


Did I tell you that I was a writer. I am.  That's my poem above.  When I hear about copyright infringement, I think about this poem. Then I think about the blog that I wrote that someone in New Zealand up loaded on to Face book.  They uploaded my entire blog. Two years of my work. Original poems. Original short stories. The time I spent working to find my writer's "voice".  I found out later that they got a job writing for a magazine half way round the world.

Here I sit out in the middle of nowhere. I'm lucky if anyone reads my  blog. Delighted if they do.

I am a writer.


.

.



For Pup.


and for me.

.

.

lyrics for the song above. I don't own the lyrics nor do I profit from publishing them here. Just thought that there might be someone who could use the encouragement.

I know that I could.

.

Here I am at another dead end
Stopped in my tracks again
Closer then I've been to where I wanna be
A broken heart standing in my way
Big as life on a real bad day
Making lemons into lemonade
Ain't nothing new to me No

This ain't no stumbling block
It's just a stepping stone
I'm gonna climb right up on top
And take a good look at where I'm going
And it ain't gonna slow me down
Hold me back or turn me around (Stepping Stone)
This ain't no stumbling block (Stepping Stone)
It ain't no stumbling block (Stepping Stone)
This ain't no stumbling block
It's just a stepping stone

Now looking back I realize
How hard it is to recognize
Opportunity in disguise
That's some Clamady
So I ain't gonna cuss my luck
Every time a door slams shut
I know a window's gonna open up
Just as long as I believe

This ain't no stumbling block
It's just a stepping stone
I'm gonna climb right up on top
And take a good look at where I'm going
And it ain't gonna slow me down
Hold me back or turn me around (Stepping Stone)
This ain't no stumbling block (Stepping Stone)
It ain't no stumbling block (Stepping Stone)
This ain't no stumbling block
It's just a stepping stone

Stepping Stone.. Ohhh
This ain't no stumbling block
It's just a stepping stone
I'm gonna climb right up on top
And take a good look at where I'm going
And it ain't gonna slow me down
Hold me back or turn me around (Stepping Stone)
This ain't no stumbling block (Stepping Stone)
It's just a stepping
This ain't no stumbling block
It's just a stepping stone
I'm gonna climb right up on top
And take a good look at where I'm going
And it ain't gonna slow me down
Hold me back or turn me around (Stepping Stone)
This ain't no stumbling block
This ain't no stumbling block
This ain't no stumbling block
It's just a stepping, stepping stone
Stepping Stone


from 1998

.

.



.

Interesting conversation going on here...




I think that the world is full of lovely people.

Even with the troubles in the world they're there.

I can see them.

They laugh and cry.

The nudge each other and share.

They say hello and they tell me what is good in their life.

Sometimes I think that they think I'm a bit nuts.




But we're all abit nuts now and then. LOL.


.

Well, I woke up this morning to check my horoscope and the obits....

Notice was that Google had this black box super imposed on what is normally colorful graphics.

After years of following the crazy of the political process, the only thing that I can say is that the devil is usually in the details AND that politics and the arts are very strange bed fellows.



Going to read, listen, ask questions, and then decide before jumping on ANY band wagons.

Hugs,
WriterAnn



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