Cat In Need

Rescued Alley Cat Seeks Forever Home

Soft paws.

Rough & tumble (he is an alley cat after all).

Loves his belly scratched.

Gets along well with other animals.

If you know of someone who has space in their heart and home for this fellow let me know. All he needs is a little love!

Darling 10 y/o Daughter (creative genius that she is) decided to create an alley cat. Her normal style is cute, neat, and fancy. I'm not sure what inspired this little fella but she put a lot of time and detail into his existence. He was just getting his stripes when…

swoosh!

He was gone.

Her brother found him in the trash.

Brother - "I found this in the trash! What was it doing there?"

Sister - "I didn't want him. He freaked me out!"

She said his red stitched spine was the freakiest of all. Whatever possessed her (literally?) to create him must have known what it was doing as the energy it put off creeped her out! Now THAT is some powerful creativity!

Book Cook

My mind is the vessel. My thoughts the marinade. Words forming, absorbing, turned and tenderized. Yesterday, a batch was ready. I poured them onto the page. Now I seek time to prepare and present them for consumption. 

Sitting

Self-reflection:

I'm in Florida. It was a planned trip that almost didn't happen (for me). Husband was called down on business. I was to tag along as spouses were invited to attend. Circumstances made it nearly impossible for me to go. Said circumstances took a turn for the better. My head took a little longer to catch up and feel safe about leaving. My heart longer yet as there is still a piece, a very large piece of my heart resting safely at home caring for the kids (along with their caregiver). Aside from leaving a part of my heart at home, this morning I feel amazingly content. Contentment is not a feeling I am accustomed to. It's not necessarily that I don't allow myself the luxury of contentment... 

...interesting. 

"The luxury of contentment." 

As soon as those words fell to the page, the flow of words stopped cold. An epiphany followed. A treasure has been unearthed. Contentment should not be considered a luxury. It should be a normal part of life. Not that life would ever be one contented path free of obstacles and issues, but surely times of contentment should be a part of everyones life.

This foreign feeling is toying with me as my mind fights like a mini ninja to keep it from settling in too deep. 'I'm in my pajamas on the patio. Is that acceptable at a resort full of people?  

Thought process: No one is around. It's what I want to do at this moment. It's what I am accustomed to in my midwestern existence. It is what feels right for me. I will continue to sit here in my pajamas. ' I choose "yes". It is perfectly acceptable. I will continue to contemplate contentment and allow the water in front of me to be a metaphor for this moment.

Calm, content reflection. So that's what it feels like. Mmmm...

Tattered

pulled so thin
life's been scattered
emotional overload
feeling tattered

stare at the sky
sun on my face
meditate in nature
my saving grace

finding time
challenge proven
feeling stress
becoming unwoven

open mind for insight
open heart for love
ask for help
receive love from above

wrapped in light
stitching begins
unwoven threads
held together again

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Kissing Him Made Me Cry

Time standing still tends to be a misnomer most of the time. Time flying is usually more accurate in this busy rush of a world. Caught up in the hustle and bustle, lost to the drama unfolding around my life, sometimes the only way to capture a really good moment is to steal it away.

Standing in the shower the other day, easing the bubbles out of my hair, my husband stepped into the room to ask me about a work related dilemma. Had we been in our honeymoon phase, wife plus shower would never equal work. Settled into monotony, my steamy abyss was reduced to another local to find the person of the house who deals with the problems.

The moment presented itself and I took it as my own. Answering the question with a solution, I proceeded to solve a dilemma of my own. I invited my man to join me in my steamy chamber. Stealing away moments have taught us how to act fast, fulfill need and desire promptly, before capture by phone, child or other such demanding responsibility. After our quick and steamy encounter, the moment hung around. No knock at the door disturbed us. No ring of the phone, nor demanding deadline on the brain. Nothing but... nothing. The gift to linger longer presented itself. I grabbed my lover's face and locked on deep and hard. 

A feeling rose from my belly. Passion and pain mixed in a swirling sea of deep love and longing. Holding him close, his body warm, wet, strong and safe, I missed him dearly. Almost desperately. Realization overwhelmed me. How long had it been since we truly connected? Daily discussions are a given as are gentle touches as we pass each other by. His career allows him to work from home presenting the opportunity to be together every second of every day. But how long has it been since we were truly together? Heart and soul?

Holding our lip embrace I allowed the tears to flow followed by laughter at the insanity of it all. How dreadfully much I missed the man who is with me almost every moment of every day. One overwhelming  lip-lock moment of love and longing, passionate lust and pain, striking deep down to my core. Emotion welled up and the water instantly washed it away. It was as if I struck emotional climax.

I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a warm soft towel around myself and smiled, as contentment settled in for a spell.

Love is good.

Seeking Solace

he said

she said

the noise hurts my ears

sapping the life force

feeding the fears

the sounding board

unloading ground

constantly screaming at me

unable to breathe

desperate to be set free

energy affects

ugly effects

thoughts spin

feeling ill

seeking peace within

Lean Into

                     Drip. 

                         Drop. 

                              Drip. 

                                 

Hugs and kisses were the first order of the day as my children headed out the door for their first day back to school. No one in our household looks forward to back-to-school season. It is an enormous blessing to live in a household full of love, comfort, and safety where enjoyment of the family unit is top priority. It makes back-to-school time bitter sweet. There is much excitement about the new. New teachers, making new friends, a new year of opportunity for learning and growth. Not so much excitement is felt for waking early, boredom in the classroom, parting with the security and comfort of home. BTST is hard on mom too. Watching my loved ones head out the door into the big wide world.

Today I am choosing the words lean into.

I am choosing to lean into this new school year with trust that none of us will not fall. Faith the kids will have the best year ever. Lean in with imagination for all that I will achieve during the day. Lean in and surrender to the flow of life. As I lean in I will whisper my intentions of success to the cloth of the Universe knowing it holds the magic necessary to weave my creative dreams into reality. This new year, new season, new cup of free time will be filled to overflowing with goodness. I vow to fill my cup daily with happiness, health, creativity, peace and love allowing my children to step off the bus directly into the overflow.

             Ah yes.

                     Drip.

                         Drop.

                              Drip.

                                  Drop.

My cup will overflow.

As The Fog Lifted

Gingerly placing toe on patio, shiver speeding up my spine, I pulled the blanket tighter. Tucking into chair for morning moments of precious, silent journal time. The morning was anything but silent.

A chill in the air compounded by fog lay heavy like a blanket not quite kicked off by sleepy Mother Earth. Cricket crescendos swelling in pulses, birds singing and stretching, traffic swooshing in the distance, and the thumping sound of highway workers displacing dirt in order to bypass the designated piece of earth.

The sun fought hard against the dark as it always does and won just the same. Bright hot light burning through the fog, lifting it now well above the trees. Everything becoming clearer, warmer, sweeter somehow. Flowers stretching and dropping their dew, bees buzzing, bringing to life their low humming tone.

I meant to journal for an hour. I really did. How is one supposed to concentrate with all this life going on around? Beautiful, masterful life.

Morning time. Magic time. My time.

Positive

I created the above image for my mother who struggles with chronic negativity. It prints perfectly on 4x6 index cards. I am gifting my mother with a small stack of printed cards to place around her house as reminders with the hope that she is willing to embrace the challenge of working to change her thoughts, thus allowing her life to follow suit. I printed out a few for myself as well. I am hoping I succeeded in posting the image above in a format you (dear reader) will be able to save and print in the event you would like a reminder as well. (I chose the colors according to the intended recipient's decor.)

Morning Routine

I am

I am...

rethinking

regenerating

regrouping

realizing

recognizing

readying myself.

I am a butterfly with angel dust on my wings. I am praying and protected. I am learning to look through the smoke. Directly at the fire. I spread and flap and hold my breath as I beat my wings and get stronger and stronger until I rise over that fire leaving all the dust and filth and ash behind. Until all I see ahead of me are blue skies and fields of wildflowers. As I uncurl my legs I release all that I hold dear and watch it frolicking free. Carried to safety. By me. My strength. Strength. Gained from God. From all that is good.

Grow

Anew

anew - adv 

1: over again 

2 : in a new form

August

anew month

anew chance

anew attitude

anew experience

anew outlook on life

Welcome to August!

A new opportunity to leave behind any negativity and start anew.

Little Things

Summer schmumer, what a bummer. This summer's been kind of a drag. Actually, it's been a real drag. We started with a flooded basement followed by a mess created from waterproofing said basement, followed by the discovery of mold/mildew as a result of said flood followed by forceful throwing of personal belongings, furniture and tearing out of drywall and carpet to remove hazard from asthmatic son's bedroom, followed by a broken garage door, followed by freak health condition causing unbearable pain resolving itself after a week of drugs, dentists, doctors and chiropractic care all trying to figure out where all the pain was coming from and why my left cheek was swollen and paralyzed. And we desperately need a new roof before winter! Whew! What a mouthful!

Thank God for the little things that keep me going and poke happiness into the crazed cloud of calamity. Little things like children's laughter, impressive skies, bumble bees, drippy peaches, singing birds, reading books, snuggling, funny movies and snapdragons that volunteer to grow each year unexpectedly planted by chipmunks traveling through the neighborhood. 

Sometimes when you are hang dogging, when things are looking down, it's up to you to find the little things, to look up and get your head back off the ground.

Care to share your list of little things creating smiles this summer?

Wisdom

The years teach much which the days never knew. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

© Lynn Retzlaff

Never does nature say one thing and wisdom another. ~Juvenal, Satires

© Lynn Retzlaff

My husband and I took the kids to the zoo this past Monday. A much needed and deserved day of enjoyment and family time.

As we wandered the zoo looking at animal after beautiful animal, absorbing all the educational facts our minds could hold on a hot humid day, I fell in love over and over again. So many beautiful and fascinating creatures live on this planet. My inner child surfaced and wished the age old wish to be able to talk to the animals. I would love to be able to connect with them and understand what they are thinking and feeling, especially the elephants.

To see the world through the eyes of an elephant. Wouldn't that be fascinating? The history they must hold! I wonder if they tell stories to their young, passing knowledge from generation to generation.

Perhaps my love for the elephant is in direct relation to my love for grand old trees. Think of the similarities. Their color, texture, massive size, longevity, noble stature. Both are seen as wise old sages. I wonder if the wrinkles on elephants read like the lines in the trunks of trees, giving glimpses into their history. (Wonder. Another component to wisdom, as one feeds the other)

Wisdom is not something that can be rushed. One must slow down and learn with intent in order to gain wisdom. One must take the time to care about the knowledge that presents itself. Perhaps that is why the elephant and the tree are both representatives of wisdom. They are both noble slow/still beings that seem to absorb the stories of that which surround them. Wisdom through observation and osmosis.

Possibility

I adore old keys. Growing up in ancient houses probably helped spark my adoration of keys as I remember the skeleton keys that went to our locks. Holding one in my hand today is a flashback to the past. A piece of key shaped childhood. Of freedom and fun, play and carefree days.

Antique keys hold so much mystery. They unlock the imagination. Who did they belong to? What secrets did they lock safely away? They represent security.

I was gifted a handful of keys (pic taken via iPad) recently from a lovely friend. I have great hope for their use as the possibilities are endless. I imagine using them in photographs, encaustic art, making a mobile or windchime, something loving and artsy. Instead, they end up hidden away in a drawer. Treasures of their own, ironically locked away for safe keeping, their potential lying stagnant as I cannot bare to part with them. Perhaps it was growing up poor that causes me to hang onto treasure as when I open the drawer that holds my collection, I feel like the richest girl on the block. That alone makes them worth their weight.

Still, it saddens me, this inability to use them. I fear not doing them justice. Not having an art piece turn out good enough. Not having the pictures successfully represent their beauty. It is the "not good enough" part that causes me to keep them locked away. "Not good enough" is not good enough for me anymore.

What a cathartic post! I wasn't expecting it to end this way! What an epiphany! I think I'll take my key collection and proudly display them in a bowl where I will pass them regularly and they can whisper to me and spark my creativity. They will say, "You are good enough! Come play!"

Sky Poem

When feeling sad or feeling down

I gaze to the sky to turn it around.

With kids in the yard we flop to the ground

watching skyward as the cloud circus passes our town.

Storms roll in, sun shines down

depositing a beautiful rainbow without a sound.

Endless sky should make me feel small

instead it leaves me feeling part of it all.

Adelia

Story inspired by writing prompt at Stampington.com

Appologies ahead as I do not know how to link up to the exact web page as I am working on my iPad (my computer is in the shop).

Photography by Andrea C. Jenkins featured in Life Images 2008

"Well good morning Sunshine!"

"Hi Mommy"

"Where are you off to so bright and early?"

"I'm going to the bay. There's a ship waiting for me. It's going to take me to a far away land where the magic lives."

"Oh my! A magical land. Sounds perfect. I see you wore your favorite sweater."

"Sometimes it gets cold in Adelia."

"Adelia, huh? Did you remember your toothbrush?"

"You don't need toothbrushes in Adelia, Mommy! The toothfairy lives there and she has all her helpers clean the kids' teeth."

"Well isn't that convenient! So, if you're wearing your favorite sweater, and you don't need to pack your toothbrush, what's in the bag?"

"Books."

"Books?"

"Yup. Books. And my paint. And paper. And a paintbrush. That's all you need in Adelia. Books and paints."

"Hmmm... that doesn't sound like much. What will you eat? Where will you sleep? What will you wear if your sweater gets too hot?"

"That's easy. It's all in the books. Books are magical in Adelia. They come to life. You just read them and they come true."

"So if you get hungry, you can just read 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs'?"

"Yup"

"And if you get hot, you can read a book on winter to bring back the cold?"

"Or a book on princess clothes so I can wear a fancy gown!"

"Oh listen to you giggle! I think you're on to something good!"

"Yeah, Adelia is good. It's all good. I only brought good books too."

"So why the paints?"

"Just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case I don't have the book I need... or if I miss you while I'm there."

"What happens if you don't have the right book, or if you miss me?

"If I get scared, I can paint a blanket to keep me safe. And if I miss you, I will paint you and then you will be there with me."

"So everything you read and everything you paint becomes real in Adelia?"

"Yup."

"Wow. That does sound like a magical place. I sure would like to visit a place like that some day."

"You wanna go with me?"

"I would love to go with you Honey, but Mommy has work to do around here."

"Silly Mommy! Time stands still in Adelia. You can come with me and when we get back, all your work will still be right here waiting for you!"

"In that case, I would love to go with you."

Taking her mother's hand, "Mommy? Why are you wiping your eyes?"

"Because my love for you is overflowing, my wise little princess. You opened my eyes so wide, the love leaked right out."

"I love you Mommy."

"I love you too Sweet Girl."

Childlike Wonder

     I purchased some clay marbles at a flea market last month. I couldn't help myself. It was wonderment at first sight. Years of play (they are from the Civil War era) has left them with such a beautiful patina. The earthen colors drew me in. 

     Holding them in my hands transported my imagination through time at the possibilities of ownership. Black and white images of children crowding around the ground, bent at the waist, some squatting to get a better view, watching, waiting for the shooter to act. Crack! The marbles slam into one another and the children stand and jump, arms in the air, hooting and hollaring. Their neighborhood marble champ has done it again!

     Perhaps they have seen harder times as well. A soldier filling his pockets with the cold, orbital love notes. A gift from his sweetheart as he heads off to war. She knew they were a favorite game of his and she wanted him to have something with him that would make him smile, a good luck trinket he could rub if he were scared or lonely. Perhaps pull out for a game or two if given a chance.

     A grandpa passing his beloved marbles down to his great-grandson proclaiming "I only had a few toys when I was your age. Money was scarce. We made do with our imaginations. But these." He looked longingly into the past, his smile growing youthful with the memory, "These were my treasure. Out of the few toys I had, my marbles were my favorite. I won quite a bit of money playing marbles! I was the town champ!"

     Clay pulled from the earth, formed, glazed, fired. Through the years filled with memory. Worn away from hands of play. Kept in pockets, bags, drawers. Traveling around from owner to owner. Where did they come from? What stories do they have to tell? If you tracked them back to the ground from which they came, what would the earth say? Would it sigh a story of their birth?

     There is something magical about old toys. Made with earthen elements. Wood, clay, metal. Holding amazing energy. All you have to do is hold them, close your eyes, and listen. They are little story tellers.