Fair words...plain talk....

Human life itself may be almost pure chaos, but the work of the artist is to take these handfuls of confusion and disparate things, things that seem to be irreconcilable, and put them together in a frame to give them some kind of shape and meaning.-Katherine Anne Porter As we all struggle to try to come to terms from this latest horror in our country's history...to try to understand a lunatic's mind, to discuss and share opinions online, with friends and neighbors in our front yards...I remember the last time fear and tears held me hostage, one of the toughest times of my life, in any mom's life since time began, a child in a war zone. Everyday I communicate with moms and dads, loved ones, who lay awake at night, or wake after fitful sleep to turn on the news, and I tell them the same thing. Everyday. You are not alone . The same thing I told my son when he was deployed, the same thing I tell myself when the world seems overwhelming, and the same thing my sweet Rosie tells ...

I searched for words but they did not come I hoped for miracles as I saw it come undone I begged forgiveness in an attempt to balance the pain I finally realized - from this there was nothing to gain I rolled up my sleeves and returned to the task... There's work to be done and what's past is past... what's past is past...sometimes I have to actually say words like that to put the past back where it belongs, move forward. Recognize, gather in the gratitude of those who appreciate the bits I can offer to help them move forward themselves...and walk away from any who would push those buttons, say those words to attempt to make sure I knew that , in their eyes, it isn't quite enough, not quite good enough, knowing me well enough to know it would cause pain. It's high school again....hurtful comments, manipulation and lies behind the scenes....making sure I can't have even a full day of thinking about a job well done, helping out those with a message and a song to ...

Commentary: Where's oil expert Dick Cheney when we need him? McClatchy

Mom chat...

Corpus Christi Skyline The Sparkling City by the Sea I grew up in a beach town. In the 50's...when we had to rely on my mother to drive us out to the beach...and then into the 60's...when we had our own cars, and hit Port Aransas and the Big Shell and all those spots in between....the beach....where we danced the night away smoking our first pot at the Dunes in Port A...across from Horace Caldwell Pier...the longest on the coast. Sit out there on the end all night long, fishing, talking, growing up...taking the fish to the Island Food store, grabbing pork&beans in the can, and talking the breakfast cook at the dock into frying up that fish...beans, fresh bread, and fried fish...omy, I can taste it now. It's the water, you know...the WATER...I'm supposed to be able to verbalize my faith, that's what I'm told...all I can tell you is that it's the water, it comes in every day, the tides rise and fall...the gulls call and coo, and the sun makes it sparkle.....

A repost from 2006 on my other blog: Wednesday, September 13, 2006 9/11 Worked all day the anniversary of 9/11....I guess that was better than watching it all unfold one more time on the tube. All those memories, the things I learned...Matt, Buster, the grandkids here, their mom far away...it was just mind numbing circumstances....and yes, Buster...the dog. At the beginning of that day, the last thing I thought as I walked out the door was about going by Tomlinson's for dog food. Now Buster was a rescue, he'd had his share of hungry days....and I know in his heart that even after 10 years of living with us, he did not trust us to always give him food. I'm telling you, the animal never missed a meal with us after Matt got him for his 6th birthday...NEVER...but on 9/11/2001...I came home from work, I cooked a huge meal, full of comfort foods...mashed potatoes, fried chicken, the works....went to call the family to dinner....and there sat Buster...by the couch. I just loo...