.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.


Come dancing.





.

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.




Sometimes?

It's good to jump into the breach and fight the good fight.


Sometimes?


It's good to stand back and stay out of the ruckus.




.


I'm glad to know that it wasn't our fault.
I'm also glad to know that we weren't wrong.
At least we're seeing the road ahead.

Not making things up.


And better


Good to have the company.
.


Hugs.


.We're the folks watching and wondering.


.


.

 

 

 

 

 

.

Happy b'day. Leon Foucault.

(I've actually seen one of his lovely clocks)

If you don't know?
Ask.

Or Google
Or Wiki

It's actually kind of cool and worth the effort.

C

.

Saturday afternoon we (WB and I) sat under the pecan trees while I read letters from the past. It was funny to read them because it was like getting a hug. I'd just randomly reach into the bag and pull out a letter.  One by one they reassured me that it would be okay.  I wonder if they knew that years later (in one case 35 years later) that I'd need them but that they wouldn't be there for me.
There are people here that try to reassure me too. They're failing miserably. My friends who sent the letters? They had one thing in common.  While each in there way pushed and pulled me through life? Not a one of them told me that I was broken and needed to be fixed.
The poem in the next post?
It's for them.
Please note? They aren't the ones who've been dumping their problems in my basket.  Instead, these are the people I'd been told were the wrong people for me to know. Billy (who showed me that art wasn't just a hobby and who was the best letter writer), IrishDavid ( like Billy, he didn't have so much trouble understanding), Damon (I'm glad that you were on that hill), Donna (my first real friend when I was a little kid), Gary, Jim, and John (who were the best of traveling companions), ... 

Like the Beatles song, "...I loved you more..."

.

Now for the poetry. LOL, aw come on Gentle Reader, there are lots of people who just love this stuff.

Oh and hello Tai Chi  people  I'm stuck on Tiger carries mountain....
Need hugs.

.

108 tai chi moves Master Moy

.

Working on the tai chi set.






(writing)

I
I am still here.
Walking
Walking on the broken shards of the everyday reality of this life.
You
You call it broken.
You say, "I'll fix you."
or
"God will fix you. Cut off your horns. Make you one of us."
Then you look around at everyone and you spit "...broken..." to everyone you see.
If only they would walk or talk or look in your "image"
But who made you God.
I?
The person who's metaphorical "feet" should be bleeding.
Cut to shards.
I?
I'm okay.
It's not easy but I'm okay.
I'm not broken.
I'm not lost.
I'm here in the middle of the chaos of the world.
On my back the burden of those who'd use me as a dumpster for their problems with no regard to mine.
My basket is full of those problems.
Very few are mine.
So here.
I'm giving them back.
Emptying the sadness into your lap and pouring my kindness on the mess.
Throwing my own  troubles into the air.
Food for the seagulls.
Food for the crows.
Happy.

c ann ford
9-18-2013

(All rights to the author. It's not that I mind others downloading it. It's when they don't give me the credit as author that I'm pizzed off.)

ack

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What the hell have you been doing for the last nineteenyears?"

 

 

 

arsenio hall

Okay. I just can't go any further until I know who it is that is reading my blog in Russia. DM me? Comment? Do you translate? Thank you and why are you reading this?

That's it. I'm just wondering who my audience is?

Hugs, Anne

....







I was up VERY late last night. Tippy tapping my fingers and writin'  but
guess what? 

I didn't miss it. snerk...






Not sure how to react but maybe a hug would be in order....

I've gotta go for a bit.  If it takes a while? Try Twitter.
(It's where I've been this AM.)


Practice highlighting and looking for things to read.
(Hint. Look in the places that look like blank spaces. )

I'm writing this now but this is about it. After this, Gentle Reader, you are on your own.

I'm leaving the porch light on just in case you come for a visit...

Hugs.

.

. One more time. Welcome to 12dotsandablot ...


Once upon a time there was a very strange man who understood women. No one new where he came from or what he did with his time. He was an enigma.  Yet if you asked any woman, young or old, if they knew him and the would say an emphatic "Yes!"  Then they would smile and say what a good conversationalist he was.  Conservative old women would say it. Liberal firebrands would agree. What a lovely man he was.
One day a young man in love who was trying to court the woman of his dreams was told, "You just don't understand me." Try and try, he did everything he could to make heads or tails of his lady love. "I'm besides myself" he told his father. I think that I understand her but she yells, "Why, why can't you be like Sean? He understands."  His father closed his eyes and then said, "The goose flies South. Nothing you say will matter. It's not what you say. It's what you hear. When you next see Bernadette? Look her in the eye when she talks. Nod but say nothing. Then? When she stops talking? Hug her neck and say 'I understand. You are right. I love you for being so smart.'  Then watch to see what she thinks."




to be continued,

I really like this son  .LOL OMW it's hot. This is 12dotsandablot

.

One more time.
Welcome to 12dotsandablot
A Fiction writer's blog
Fact and fiction co exist here
If you don't know which is which.
Do. Not. ASSume.
Ask.

You'll also want to do the following for every blog post you read.
So that you won't miss anything
Now go here and read the story for today ....  . One more time. Welcome to 12dotsandablot ... ...
:)

Directions

Move curser over the area above.
You do it as if you were going to cut and copy something.
Surprise!

.
.
.
,
,
,
,Wait.

Don't leave.

Standing here.


On the head of this pin.

Josltling around with all the other angels.

It's not easy.

It takes a minute to get your balance.

Breath.

Breath deep.

Again

There,

It'll be better.

I promise.

Just look here.

In my eyes.

They'll be mirrors but then they'll be doors.

Tunnels.

Did you know that the eyes were the emotions laid bare?

Your pupils
and mine?

React to our mind.

Dilate?

Sympathetic.

Contract?

Parasympathetic.

It's biology

Science.

And emotion.

All in one.

Look closer.

There'll be things that you'll see that might not be pleasant at first.  Contrary to you preconceptions of what you  thought you'd see.

Leave those.

And look


.

The reality, once you get the hang of it, is lovely.

Like old lady hands and sad eyes can be.

Like a childs toes.

and smile.

See the beauty in the way that each point of light is arranged.

I've come to sit with you.

We'll start by tell each other where we've been.

What we've seen.

And then,,,

Something wonderful is in the journey.

Time.


,

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental



THat written?

In order to really and truly enjoy an Interactive Blog Story, you have to suspend disbelief,  Like when you go to the movies.

So enjoy the show just don't get your panties in a twist should you read this and start spouting words like "slander" and "libel".

Just remember

This is 12 dots and a blot
A FICTION writer's blog.
Fact and fiction co exist here,
If you don't know which is which?
DO NOT ASSume.
Ask.

Hugs and enjoy the show

PS  There are things on this page that you may have to look for.
At first (like in the next posts)
I'll try to point them out.

But after a while you may want to check
Just in case.

Enjoy the show.

The subject is love.
Cause I think I am.

(fact and fiction, fact and fiction, fact and fiction don't ASSume ask)

Sigh.

Some people are just too weird,

:P

Hey.

I'm back.

Kind of.

To find the links?

You might have to look everywhere  

See.

You just never can tell.

God, I've missed you.






.
One more time.   Psst. Roll the curser here cause there's a secret  :)
Fiction writer's blog
Fact and fiction.
It's not about you.
But if you think that it is
Ask do not ASSsume.
Thanks.
WriterAnn

.


,

 

 

 

 

I think that it really is Tuesday. Somewhere....  

 

 

 

 



Good night and good morning. Hugs. I love you.  Welcome to 12 dots and a blot. A writer's blog. Fact and fiction co exist here If I'm going to be a very good fiction writer? My fiction has to look like fact. So if you don't know which is which? DO NOT ASSume. Ask. Oh and make sure to read the comments. And listen to the music. Otherwise? You might miss something. hugs. Writer Anne. Good night. ,

Dear Gentle Reader,
Miss me?

Oooh I missed you. The time just flew by but even when I was busy being busy I would think to myself, "I wonder how things are going at 12dots?  Do you think that folks miss me at all?"

Then I'd try to make Twitter work like a blog.

Didn't really work out.

So I've been busy.  Some good things happened (and some not so good things happened).



.

This blog looks really good on a mobile. :)

Need music.

Best not tempt the YouTube

Just find a copy of
 'em. 
Let's see.

Thinking.



Mexicoma  by Tim McGraw.

PS You will not believe what happened.

So. I was going to take a year off from blogging.
Try Twitter. It's only 144 characters. How hard can it be?
But
I missed blogging so I tell myself , "One year to the date you'll blog here."

The day came?
It's been a year?
I can't remember my password.

At first I tried stuff but it didn't work.
So I gave the brain a rest.
It's what you do when you try to remember something.
Nothing worked.
I tear up the house looking for the password.
Nothing.

Until now.

LOL Hello 12 dots.

It's not 12dogsandablog but well I did miss it.

Found my pencil.

Boy has a lot happened since we last chatted

If I get locked out again. Check @CinamonWaffles   over on the Tweets.

Hugs.