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I started blogging a few years ago, initially using another server or platform or home base. This first foray into the world of a public blogger began slowly and in a small fashion; to be read by only a select few. The readers were known to me but I came to realize over time that I was not necessarily known to them. And that unearthing mutually shared topics of interest was no small feat.

So eventually I changed servers and somehow learned how to set up and then launch this blog. I say that I somehow learned, to highlight the fact that I am still, some years later and having forgotten the how-to’s of the start-up, totally in awe that I learned how to establish this home base.

I do think of this little blog as a home base of sorts. A home base that lives in the electronic cloud or the electric blue of the electronic world. A home base that easily follows me around this little planet of ours as I change my home base more often than I care to have to recant in this moment. Yes. This blog is a touch stone for me. A touch stone and a sounding board. A sounding board, touch stone and a connecting rod to others. Yes, indeed, this blog is all of that last sentence.

Mostly though, this blog is mine. Made entirely of my words, thought streams, ideas, fears, worries, triumphs, successes, good-byes, angst, new beginnings, good health, poor health, goodness, judgments, and dreams. None of which arrive in my brain or on the tip of my tongue or at the touch of the keyboard without input from others. I am not an island. All of my ideas, thoughts, and dreams owe their very beginnings to someone(s) or something(s) outside of my insides.

Osmosis. Influence. Subconcious. Peripheral learning.

All combined to create the seemingling instantaneous lightbulb of ah-ha moments in my psyche. Each thought a culmination of many ~ like dandelion seeds are scattered by weightless white fluff, so are our collective imaginings, ideals, and scenarios.

Each individual’s ideas are, indeed, unique to themselves because the collective nuanced idea from the outside is then funneled, sifted and mixed with the insides of that thinker, developer, dreamer. The grand total being from and belonging to the human being who springs from their soft warm paisley sofa, exclaiming “Eureka! pop open the bubbly and warm up the band, I have come upon this brand new, previously thought by no one else, idea!”

All of this is to say that years later, I am still trying to figure out how to truly make the best use of all of the bells and whistles that WordPress has to offer me. Take the Like button. This bell and whistle is a mystery to me. I understand the rudimentary basics, or at least I think I do. What I do not understand is how I can easily see who Like’s my posts so that I can connect with them. Do I need to go to each comment section of my post and check to see who has Like’d any particular post? Or is there a section like the Comments part that shows me that someone has Commented so that I can then respond?

Simple. So simple.
I am sure. The answer is right in front of my eyes.
Perhaps this blogging navigator needs a new compass to find her way.
Nevertheless, I am having myself a dandy time as I return to my home base today while I sit in the sun on that aforementioned paisley-covered sofa.

Tipped. Tilted. At a slant. A bit cockeyed.
That’s me.
Me and my bastard of a buddy Vertigo.
I thought he was on his way out of my life but the bastard returned with full vengeance last night. Like a stinking thief, he snuck into my bedroom and tipped the bed, with me in it.
Damn you Vertigo!

I managed to skulk into work for a few hours to complete an evaluation, cancel some appointments, and in general, earn my financial living. And then managed to make it home without crashing my car, Buster Blue. Buster appreciated pulling into his home (the garage) on the return trip.

This attack is a bad one with centrifugal forces, waves of nausea and near black out moments.
Doing my best to keep the tide of hysteria at bay ~ even the mention of water and its potential for motion, makes me weep.

I wish upon a star and pray up to the heavens that this Vertigo bastard will be smitten or at the very least made to leave me and my general vicinity.
Being tilted ain’t what it’s cracked up to be.
Believe me. I know.

A snip here
A tuck there.
Some lonely here
Some moments there
of heartache.
That’s what happens
when a heart breaks
wide open.
Time for adjusting
the life script.
@junemoon 2011

Today is one of those kind of days where I have wondered am I the only one out here in my corner of the universe.

I am home sick. As in, sick at home in bed up until an hour ago. As in not feeling well. At all.

I can hear city traffic rumbling along, off and on.
I just finished talking with a co-worker via phone about a mental health exam she hopes that I will conduct and write up on short notice.
I have texted a couple of people to let them know I will not be showing up where and when previously agreed to.

And yet, I still feel alone in this world.

Good doggone thing that the sunshine is streaming through my south facing windows onto my brown paisley-colored soft loveseat all done up in deep gold, garnet and earthy browns. Cuz without this warmth, freely given, I might just have had to curl up into my core, all alone.

Instead, I will pick up my crochet hook and continue working with this one strand of baby blue soft yarn. A project you see, that I am doing to help my daughter with a gift for her friend. My first ruffled scarf that is looking more like a corkscrew than a ruffle but is soft nonetheless. Soft, snuggly and comforting.

I am not alone. Right?

Blue sky and sun on grand display. Fully spotlighting the leaves in their brilliant autumn regalia. And here’s me, staying in the moment ~ rejoicing at the beauty that this season hands over free of charge.

No future tripping allowed here today. The soft blanket of white stuff will cover the earth in its own time and place.
Today there is abundance of autumn splendor.

Rejoice!
Don’t mind if I do.

As to live a life of so much abundance? How is it that I get to have at hand the gustatory gifts of succulent ocean shrimp, jewel red strawberries, dusky blueberries, plump yellow onions with their papery skins, extra virgin olive oil and fancy balsamic vinegars?

How?

How is this so? I live a blessed life. How do I know?
I open my refrigerator door and stand there and simply gaze at the bounty heaped on the wire and glass shelves.
And I know.
Know, that I am one lucky lucky lady.

Thank you Universe and whoever and whatever else had/has a hand in the decision making of my life ~ my life of abundance ~

Falling ~
Fluttering ~ ~
Fleeting ~ ~ ~

Look up and out and do it soon or you might miss the autumn leaves as they cavort in their showy seasonal colors. Their vibrant and varied yellows, oranges and occasional flashes of reds mixed in with the green tones, get me every year. Grab my heart and make me draw my breath in, sharply and deeply as I exhale my prayers of gratitude and thank you’s to the heavens and universe. What a blessing to drink in the wonders of this fleeting season.

It is not quite frozen here in the Land of the Almost Always Frozen Landscape and this human being is relishing the leaves dance as they prance and twirl their way to the ground.

Studded tire, that is. My oh my I have been busy this past week acting responsibly and taking care of business.

Taking care of business every day. Taking care of business in every way. Taking care of business and working over time.
Remember that tune?
What? No.
Well then I suppose those italicized lyrics didn’t mean much to you.
I’ll try harder next time.

But one thing I won’t have to try harder doing is acting responsibly. I wish. I wish that were true. But I know in my heart that it’s not cuz I know me. I’m a procrastinator extraordinaire. I typically put things off, let them hang over my head like a lead balloon, until they migrate and become like a ball and chain around my ankle ~ both ankles. Until the consequences of the procrastination become worse than the energy drain of not doing and avoiding whatever task I am denying exists.

But not this time.

Just this past week I renewed my vehicle, Buster Blue’s, license tags, which was really a two-fer one in the acting responsibly column since I had to take Buster in for his emission control (IM) testing in order to renew his tags. And guess what, Buster’s tags did not expire until the last day of this month. I renewed his tags early! OMgosh. There’s a first for every little thing on this mostly blue planet. Yes, there is.

And then today I loaded up Buster’s winter shoes, aka snow tires, and took them in to change over prior to any snow fall or icy roads. And I did not whine out loud or even to myself when told that two of Buster’s winter shoes needed replaced with brand new footwear. Nor did I start to cry when I was further informed that his summer sandals were a danger to Buster and to others, as in bald and worn. I simply paid extra for the tires to be recycled by someone other than myself. And then I paid the total bill with a smile and a thank you.

I think I might be in line to be knighted. Knighted as Queen of Responsible Acts.

The jewel encrusted crown had better show up fast though and be fastened atop my head quick. Lightening fast before I don’t do something that I should have or that any other responsible human would take care of right away. But today even without the tiara, I have patted myself on my back for the mature measures that I have taken on behalf of myself and my beloved Buster Blue.

That’s what I’m doin’.
Rollin’ Rollin’ on the river.
The river of change that is. Facebook facelift. WordPress switching teams. Or at least switching sides of the screen for accessing stats.
Yes. The river of change.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a hatin’ on the change. Just noticing. And trying to keep up. You know what I mean?

A veritable job.
Keeping current. Staying relevant.

Not ready to take the backseat. Yet.

All it takes sometimes to set my world right, is that spark from someone’s eyes when they flash their genuine smile my way. That, or the sound of a real belly laugh shooting out and about like musical notes from a tuba or a saxaphone.

Or that light touch of a co-worker’s hand on my arm or shoulder as we pass in the hall and exchange our daily hello.

All it takes

sometimes.

September 2011
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