Big Storms, Big Kids & Big Anxiety


Being a parent is tough.  Being a parent with major anxiety challenges is a big fat bonus.  Being a parent with major anxiety challenges in a monster hurricane with countless tornado warnings that are expected to go on for the next several days is simply fabulous beyond words.

So naturally my kids are now sleeping in the closet.  Literally.  I thought that making them camp out in the living room was my most annoying mom move for the summer, but apparently I was wrong.  Way to go me.  Always upping the stakes!

If it’s your style, we would truly appreciate your sending some prayers or a little light our way.  This isn’t my favorite evening so far, and it’s really just beginning for those of us who inhabit the areas surrounding the Texas coast.

Thank you so much dear friends.  Joanna

Inhabit

It’s Just a Matter of Time

hand grrr

Ten points redeemable at absolutely nowhere to whomever names the owner of that mouth!

I’m going to do it.  It’s best if I lead with this so we can avoid any assumptions to the contrary.  Based on past history, it is a statistical inevitability.  I can recite all of the reasons why I shouldn’t, and I recognize that this standoff with my husband is not going to end well this weekend.  Please note that I’m not aiming to make him mad.  Rather I’m trying to figure out how to win him over to my point of view on the proper course of action in this scenario.  (Reality check – There is zero chance of my convincing him.)

parentsdontunderstand

 

Okay.  Here’s the situation.  My parents went away for a week’s vacation.  No no no.  Not that.

 

So I had hand surgery two days ago, yes?  Yes.  And the bandage / wrap should stay on my hand for one full week before the doc checks it, and then he will wrap it again for one more additional week until the stitches come out, yes?  Yes.

I prefer to see these as wise suggestions from a well-paid guy in a white coat with a knife.  My husband sees this as professional advice that must be followed to avoid problems after surgery.  Silly man!  And this is where the divergence in our approaches comes into the picture.  The impending blowup draws closer…

Me:  “Argh!  This wrap is driving me crazy.  I’m going to take it off and put a large waterproof band-aid over it instead.”

Him (comforting and calm):  “Don’t mess with it.  The doctor said to leave it alone for two weeks.”

Me (ever so casual):  Yes, I heard that as well…  But you see…it’s been two days and that’s practically same thing as two weeks.

Him (quickly moving from calm and supportive to irritated):  I’m not going to debate this with you.

Me (even more chill and smooth like buttah):  Oh me neither.  I’m just going to remove it a little bit.

Him (advancing past irritated and heading toward mad):  Noooo.  Don’t touch it.

Me:  It’s no biggie.  I can do this.  It’s easy.

Him (steely):  No.  You’re not.

Me (less casual):  Hmmmm.

Him (staring at me and waiting yet saying nothing): …

Me (looking back and responding but only in my mind):  (oh yes I am)

Him (in his mind):  (NO YOU’RE NOT)

Me (in my double secret probation mind):  (OH YES I AM!!!)

knife

This knife has cut more than a tin can and a tomato.

I’m not saying that he is wrong.  (He’s wrong!)  And I’m not saying that I’m right.  (I’m right!)  I’m just saying that I have had a dozen surgeries since I was a teenager (mainly operations on my joints), and I have played this unwaiting game every time.  See the knife in the picture?  It has been used for slicing bread and removing casts (plural) from my ankles.  My tweezers have plucked eyebrows as well as stitches.  I never make it to the follow-up appointments because I have yet to become a big enough grown up to just leave whatever it is alone.  You’re welcome orthopedic surgeons for all that messy post op time I saved you.

Noooo I don’t really think he is wrong, and yeeees I know that the doctor gave specific instructions for my benefit.

But it’s iiiiitchy!  And funky.  And then back to itchy.  And then back to funky.  It bothers me immensely.  It pesters me, and I fidget with it constantly.  I have shoved cotton gauze under the edges.  I’m about to harvest a truckload of aloe off my patio to get it to calm down.  But then the increasing invisible germ element comes back into my mind and bleh it grosses me out even more!

I doubt that I will make it through the day with this thing.  If that is the case, he will be furious (out of genuine concern for my welfare), and I will act like I don’t notice the steam coming out of his ears for the two-ish days that follow (because I’m a stubborn bonehead and I warned him that I would do this).

That’s all I have to say on this for now.  I must run to take care of other things.  For starters, I need to see what kinds of large bandages we have in the medicine cabinet.  Totally unrelated of course.  I just need to check…

mick

Help me Mick!

hand3

I can’t get no satisfaction either!

Satisfaction

Pest

How to Reactivate Your Brain (Day 17)

pencil and paperPerhaps you read the title and thought to yourself, “I’m going to read this post because I could definitely use a few mental reboot techniques.”  If so, click elsewhere because this is not the post for you.  It was more of a question than an exciting opportunity for neuro rejuvenation.

This question is the direct result of my own clear mental deactivation as evidenced by the recent brain bumbling and stumbling during one of my tech turn off challenges (now a.k.a. family time) (because it sounds a little less daunting) (and it also sounds like you’re a weasel if you tell other family members that you don’t want to participate).

pencil and paper1At some point during our no technology family time, I decided that I want to run a calculation on something.  The conundrum I faced was that I was not allowed to use my phones or computers.  Hmmm.  How was I going to do this.  I sat contemplating other possible options that would be at my disposal yet not explicitly in violation of the challenge rules.

pencil and paper2A-ha!  I devised a plan!  I could use one of my old business calculators.  So I searched.  And I searched.  And I searched.  There was no business calculator to be found.  But a-ha once more because I could use one of my kids’ calculators from school!  Surely that would do the trick!  Irritatingly once more I failed to find a calculator after a few more minutes of searching.

I want to be making this nonsense up, and I want the story to end there.  But I’m not and it doesn’t.  Keep in mind, there was no impending meteor I needed to redirect and these numbers would be the key to Earth’s salvation.  I just reeeally wanted to run this calculation.  Also keep in mind that the calculation involved very basic math and that I do mathematics for a living (but via spreadsheets).

So I crept into my office and stared at my phone…  There it was on my desk.  Dark and quiet and oh so beautiful.  Just sitting there.  Waiting for me.  Calling to me.  “Joanna…I can do that basic math that your small human mind cannot comprehend…”  Yes I hear you phone…

I turned it on.  My heart was racing.  I was so stressed about this because I was nanoseconds away from complete tech challenge anarchy.  The phone was on and ready.  I just stood there.  I knew how disappointed I would be with myself if I used the phone.  I was already thoroughly dismayed at witnessing the crazy I had achieved up to that moment.  Would I completely blow past the line and full out break the rules for basic math that could wait?

Maybe.  I might have.  But then I remember an old set of tools I once used in my youth when I was faced a with mathematical question.  I have a suspicion that you know what I am going to say, but no, it wasn’t an abacus.  It was a frickin’ pencil and paper.

pencil and paper3

You cannot make this insanity up.  I had literally forgotten that I could solve the math myself.  I am a mathematician, and I am more than a little intelligent (or so I thought at some point prior to that moment).  I had become so grossly accustomed to accessing my technological assistants whenever I needed an answer that I didn’t remember to use my own mental assistants.  Based on the wildly embarrassing amount of time it took for me to recall such complex tools as “pencil and paper,” I’m thinking that those mental assistants of mine were either sleeping, picketing, or (most likely) assumed that they had been fired long ago based on lack of work.

The problem took twenty seconds to solve.  Maybe less.  I don’t know how long it had taken me to solve the problem of how I was going to solve the problem, but it was exponentially greater than twenty seconds.

We need to wake our brains back up!  We have to stop leaning on our tech and allowing it to think for us.

Given that it is called the tech turn off challenge, it’s pretty clear that I did not operate entirely within the intended boundaries.  Thankfully I did not access any of the tech functionality, and I learned a serious(-ly embarrassing yet eye-opening) lesson.  I avoided using the phone.  I also avoided admitting any of this to my family, as I learned that particular lesson years ago.  Some things are best left unsaid (and posted to the internet because no one there sees anything ever???)…

In hindsight I have full confidence that the Universe was watching the whole scene while shaking its head back and forth and eating popcorn.  You’re welcome Universe for the entertainment, and I thank you for the reminder in return.

Love, light and logic always – Joanna

Bumble

Rise to Your Standard, Not Theirs (Day 15)

mudflap

Thank you Amazon.  I could stop writing now, and an insanely obvious point would have already been made.

I combined my search results from earlier today into a comparison pic, because that image is worth exponentially more than a thousand words.  Go to Amazon and replicate the search if you doubt me.  It’s pretty stunning stuff (and I’m not referring to those highway hoochies).

sexy mudflap guy results 2

As I am certain that you absolutely must know what all four of your “sexy mudflap guy” purchase options are, here you go.  Please note that two of the four mudflap guy options aren’t even guys but actually more highway hoochies.

A few days ago I was searching for a funny vinyl sticker for the back of my car and happened to stumble across Mr. Mudflap.  It was so ridiculously funny to me that I almost bought it for my car.  Ultimately I came to the conclusion that Suburbia would have torches a blazin’ and pitchforks a stabbin’ before I would even be able to remove it from the backing.  I opted for an alternate funny (a post for another day) but didn’t forget Mr. Mudflap. (He’s pretty freakin’ great, no?)  (YES!)

A few more days went by, and my elementary aged daughter and I found ourselves at the magazine isle at the grocery store.  I was searching for some Mad Libs kinds of game magazines that we could play as a family during tech turn off.  Apparently Mad Libs aren’t a normal thing in stores anymore.  SO.  SAD.  But do you know what is a normal thing?  This….

magazines girls

vs.

magazines guys2

The sad truth is that I wasn’t the person who noticed the stark differences in the magazine section.  My young daughter smacked me to attention when she asked, “Mom, why are all of the women in these magazines dressed like that and why do they all talk about sex?”

We started looking at the magazines together and basically couldn’t stop finding scantily clad babes who looked like they desperately needed a good chicken fried steak.  We moved to the magazines right next to them that were clearly aimed at guys.  Notice all the man nips, shiny sweaty abs, and advice on how they can stay gorgeous and younger looking??  Yeah.  Me neither.  Even the dog magazine was free of tips on “how to stay attractive for your bitches.”

I was thinking about those images earlier today, and my daughter’s questions continued to haunt me.  I was also quite annoyed at the strong possibility that I probably had more in common with the hunting dog than I did with the beach blanket bingo contestants.  Thankfully I remembered my beloved mudflap man.  The memory alone made me smile.  But then I started to wonder how bad it might be, and thus the mudflap search on Amazon.  Admittedly mudflap girl is a pretty specific hoochie, but the disparity in perceived norms for women versus men can be found in countless places.

To be clear, I have no beef at all with sex or sexy.  On the contrary, I’m a fan, and I also completely appreciate wanting to feel attractive and be healthy.  My issue is that feeling attractive and being healthy don’t have the slightest thing in common with the oversexualized plastic pinup that is being marketed as the standard.  I am at a point in my life where I can recognize that the pictures been photoshopped and the sultry silhouette images are merely cartoons.  However my young daughter sees these over and over again in stores and magazines and movies and TV shows.  Although we teach her that this is not normal or real, mass marketing and the world of glamour and fashion tell her that this is exactly what she should see in her mirror.

Physical beauty is most certainly worthy of celebration, but brilliance, bold achievements, and true grit should be the aim.  Those should be the covers we seek.

I don’t fault the magazine companies or stores.  Not in the slightest.  They create and stock what sells.  The part that I can’t reconcile is why does it sell?  Why are these markets thriving?  Why are women so hell bent on achieving a standard that is anything but standard.  Why don’t we address the problem while women are still young?  Ask any parents with pre-teen daughters how much fun it isn’t to go shopping for Halloween costumes.  This is the kind of crap we get to sift through…

halloween women

“I’m sorry baby, but please remind me again which theme of ho you said you wanted to go with this year.”

Do we have this problem with our boys?

halloween men

“Son, I think there’s something wrong with all of these boy costumes.  Based on the girls’ section, these ones must have accidentally been made with three times the appropriate amount of fabric.  Also they are all missing the thigh highs,” said No Mom EVER.

The two pics above were screenshots from my Google searches for costumes for women and costumes for men.  Each group of costumes represents the leading items suggested for the specific gender.

There is a striking disparity in the expectations for achievements and physical attributes for men and women.  I was incredibly blessed to be raised by parents who didn’t ever lead me to believe that my being a woman would be a detriment to me on any level.  As a matter of a fact, my father went out of his way to make it abundantly clear that I should never forget that nothing could stop a smart and fierce woman from achieving anything she wanted.  Decades have passed and yet those words resound in my ears constantly.  I knew that he meant what he said, and that was the greatest gift he could have possibly given me.  Every girl should hear this from the important people in her life, and if at all possible, she should hear it from the important men in her life.

Release the belief that achieving an unrealistic airbrushed standard is the ultimate goal.  There are higher mountains to climb and greater missions to accomplish.  If you want to make those climbs while sporting a string bikini and thigh highs, I say rock on my friend.  If I had the bod and the confidence, I would do the same.

Just don’t confuse the wrapping for the real gift inside.

Know your true beauty.  Own every single inch of it.  And rise to your standard, not theirs.

With love and light always – Joanna

Grit

Seeing the Extraordinary

Extraordinary

I was so excited to see this passion flower in my garden and had to take this pic.  Admittedly my amusement hurdle has a pretty low bar, but it’s a seriously cool flower, no?  It has a raw savage beauty and fierceness all its own.  And of course as fate would have it, this led me to contemplation on a completely different level.

Just because you can’t see it in yourself doesn’t change the truth that you are beautiful and extraordinary.

We often fail to recognize the amazing beauty around us, but the real tragedy is when we fail to recognize the incredible beauty within us.  We are weird and magical and funky and unique and wonderful, and we should own every bit of it.

I’m going a bit out of order today and writing this before my daily tech turn off challenge occurs.  The technology turn off rule has become a standard expectation by all in the house, so we are sans tech for 2.5 hours every evening.  Although there have been a couple of debates regarding what should and shouldn’t fall into the challenge restrictions, the change has been received with overwhelming support by every family member here.  I would have never believed it, but I’m a big time fan of the results and am perpetually awed by everyone’s commitment.

So here are my goals for today.  I’m starting to add a few more to the list, but my minimum personal daily requirement is 3 goals.  Again that means that I have to write 3 goals that I can actually do today to improve my health, happiness, well-being, world, and / or personal joy.  I’m on a mission to be happy dammit, and my intention is to bring others along with me.  😉

  • Write a post to keep my momentum momentum-ing and hopefully speak to someone’s heart in the process.
  • Take a walk (and not just to the fridge).
  • Finish the quarter end files I need to submit by tomorrow.  I’m not excited about doing these spreadsheets, but I will be able to relax more once I have them off my plate.  This task will have to happen before or after tech turn off time.
  • Tackle at least 5 items in the laundry basket of shame looming behind me…  This is an ever-changing pile of papers that once resided on my desk.  Later the pile moved beside my desk.  At some point I think it was even under my desk.  It ended up in a laundry basket so we could stuff it in the car when we had a house showing a few weeks ago.  From that day forward, they stayed in the basket behind my desk chair.  I’m pretty confident that the pile has now started to reproduce as I see other pile children in there (little pilettes).  I don’t know why I have been stalling on going through these.  I started avoiding eye contact with the basket several days ago and have continued to refuse to address our ongoing lack of interaction.  Please note that I really wanted to type “Deal with everything in the laundry basket” at beginning of this bullet point, but I didn’t think that it sounded realistic.

The point is to set goals that I will do today.  These goals need to be important enough to mandate completion on the same day or small enough to eliminate any excuses I could create to avoid them.  It does me no good to set a goal I can’t honestly 100% commit myself to doing.  So those are my goals, and that’s going to be how I finish out my lucky 13th day.

It doesn’t require much effort, but you still have to be willing to go after your happiness.  Create your joy, and stop waiting for your life to come to you.  Go get it!

I hope that you have a beautiful Sunday and an amazing week!  🙂

***Joanna***

(Day 13)

Savage

Day 12 – Keep Going and Never Give Up

prayer

This is a little snippet of a text conversation I had with my mom a few weeks ago.  Clearly I was ribbing her, but sometimes it feels true.  We pray and beg and cry, but we stay trapped in an emotional whirlpool where we can barely keep our heads above water.  I fully believe that our cries are heard, but we may still have to ride out the waves a little longer.  The key is to keep going and to just hold on a bit more.  Never stop hoping and never give up.

Thankfully I was able to spend yesterday out of the whirlpool.  I didn’t have to ride any major emotional roller coasters.  I wasn’t subjected to any blindsiding life events.  And I continued to take initiative to keep the good momentum going.

My three goals from yesterday were:

  • Assess and go into more detail on the division of labor on the home management scene (a.k.a. sharing the chores).
  • Take a little walk beyond the boundaries of my home and yard.
  • Write something honest that makes me uncomfortable to share but likely needs to be read by someone who could be helped by it.

These were the results:

  • Chore chat – On a scale of “Bleh!” to “Fabulous!” I would give this one a high “Meh.”  We talked about it.  We split up chores.  No big epiphanies, but no big meltdowns either.  Chores were knocked out with minimal drama by anyone.  That’s actually probably closer to a “Yay!” than a high “Meh.”
  • Take a walk – I circled the block to check the mail.  That was probably somewhere between 1/3 to 1/2 of a mile.  Task complete.
    • This seems like really small potatoes, right?  But allow me to add these deets for the numbers nerds out there.  If you walk 1/3 of a mile every day for one year, that comes to 122 miles.  In ten years, you are at 1,217 miles.  If if really committed and did this for fifty years, that would mean an extra 6,100 miles.  Bumping it to 1/2 a mile a day would mean an extra 183 miles in a year, 1,825 miles in a decade, and 9,125 miles over fifty years.  Dat’s a lotta meat-a-balls!
    • If I went totally bananas and walked 1 & 1/3 miles daily for fifty years (51.17 years for you fact checkers), I would walk the same distance as the circumference of the Earth (again allow me to save you the lookup time – 24,901 miles).  Amazing!
  • Write something raw – I wrote about problems, labels, and disorders I have wrestled with my entire life.  I wrote about what I am doing to work toward booting any remaining freeloaders off my train for good.  I don’t like putting this stuff on paper (electronic or otherwise), but I believe that it’s important that we recognize any negativity we have been empowering, and at times, embracing.  We wear our labels like they are fresh off the rack.  Even if I can’t fully extricate them from my emotions and my behaviors, I can stop allowing them to define me.  I have to be willing to see them for what they are, and hopefully in doing that, I can recognize that they are not who I am but rather attributes and experiences I have meandered and learned from.  Taking that a step further, my prayer is that my revealing my own struggles and successes may help someone else keep swimming through their emotional whirlpool until their waters subside.  They always do.  Just keep swimming.  (Now imagine Dory singing those words in “Finding Nemo” – it’s catchy!  A bit annoying but catchy nonetheless.)

We are not designed to be “perfect” people (“perfect” per our subjective human standards, definitions and expectations).  We are going to be sorely disappointed if we require that of ourselves.  I believe that the real game at hand is figuring out that we are the way we are for a reason.  We always discover our greatest strengths whenever we overcome our greatest weaknesses.  And sometimes it isn’t even about overcoming those weaknesses or shortcomings.  Sometimes the actual truth (Truth) is that we have to recognize that they aren’t shortcomings at all.  These so called disorders and perceived personality aberrations are an intentional part of who we are.  They have a purpose in our lives.  We are not broken.

You are not broken.

With that said, I would like to highlight a few of the people who have deeply inspired me to keep going at various times this week.  There are so many amazing writers out there, but these individuals have a special kind of style when it comes to sharing their own experiences with adversity and how they tell their struggles to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.  The word du jour per the Daily Post is savage, and that is the perfect adjective for these writers.  They are honest and real and raw.  They speak from their hearts and are perfect just as they are.  I don’t share these with you for my benefit.  I share them for yours.

https://wakinguponthewrongsideof50.wordpress.com/ – Where to begin when describing this jewel?  She is absolutely wonderful on so many more levels than I could ever articulate.  Truly.  Amusing, heart warming, eclectic, and inspiring.  (Hello future me!  I utterly adore you!)

https://knockedoverbyafeather.wordpress.com/ – Bad assness at this level needs no introduction, but I will say that my world is infinitely better because she is part of it.  (Also I’m dying to see that giant feather!)

https://insidetherainbow.blog/ – She makes me laugh and cry and laugh again every single time, and she speaks to my heart whenever she writes. (I would gladly stand in a line for 4 hours to see “Grease” with this rockstar!)

https://carolrolke.com/blog/ – Introspective, clever, witty, and fierce – I appreciate her words on so many levels.  (I’m pickin’ up what you are puttin’ down.  Keep sharing all that awesomeness!)

https://authentically50.wordpress.com/ – We face different issues at this point in our lives, but her words transcend the individual scenarios.  (I’m truly thankful that I stumbled across your blog.  Such divine providence!  You are a blessing.)

never give up

My father gave me this little sign for my desk years ago.  Such powerful words.  Thanks for the reminder Pop.

Be fierce.  Be yourself.  Never give up.  Never give in.

***Joanna***

Savage

Ostensible Order – A Deceptive Diversion

Superfluous organization is pure nectar of the OCD gods.  Helloooo sweet spice rack.  I should clarify that my commitment to maintaining my spices in this fashion has less to do with OCD and more to do with the immense amusement I feel each time someone tells me what a nice rack I have.  My other non-spice rack doesn’t typically receive the same commendations, so I get my kicks where I can.

When people enter my pantry and see this spice rack, their tendency is to react in one of three ways:

  1. They are genuinely in awe of how lovely it looks and how wonderful it must be to have access to so many seasoning options.
  2. They are quickly troubled by the way I leap into action returning the little jars into place that have been relocated by a fraction of a nanometer.  These same people also appear to dislike my icy stares, but it’s a necessary defense that I must employ.  There are those who seek to bring chaos to my spice rack, but thou shall not mess with the jars.  <– Commandment # 11.  Look it up.  (Or don’t look it up.  That’s probably a better plan.)
  3. They roll their eyes because they know me well enough to see through veil and recognize the reality.

And the reality that this display fails to disguise is this:

a juniper berries

Juniper berries?  I thought that those were for throwing at each other while waiting for the bus to arrive.

  1. I don’t have the slightest clue how to incorporate most of these spices into my cooking, and almost all of the jars remain sealed with plastic wrappers around the lids confirming their lack of use.

    a celery salt

    Celery has salt?  I only use salt salt.  Apparently celery also has cream, and I have the soup to prove it.

  2. Every spice displayed in this collection expired between the years of 2008 and 2011, and I worry that their antique food status only qualifies them to be ingredients in a witch’s brew for certain death.

    a star anise

    Star anise?  Quite lovely, but if it wasn’t in a spice bottle, I probably would have given these to my daughter to make an organic bead necklace.

  3. The real reason that I don’t use them is because frankly, I just don’t want to mess up all that pretty.

If you walk a little farther into the pantry and look slightly to the right, you will find that my OCD is selective at best.  What I actually incorporate into my cooking isn’t anywhere near as aesthetically pleasing, but you wouldn’t know that since my cooking incorporates other delicious flavors that are neither expired nor vacuum-sealed shut.  I will confess that this rule does not hold when I attempt to grill steaks.  Those are less savory and more akin to replacement soles for my husband’s work shoes.  I don’t why I can’t figure them out, but if you ever come for dinner and I offer to personally cook you some steaks, it’s probably best to assume that I dislike you.  With a passion.

IMG_20170609_104428

Most people’s lives are very similar to my nice rack…I mean spice rack.  (Ha! It never ceases to amuse me.)  At a glance, the pretty and organized parts look really good on the surface.  Delve a little further, and it’s probably not quite as put-together as the display implied.  And if you dig really deeply, you may uncover the parts that we typically don’t celebrate if we even notice them at all.  The mundane.  The messy.  The unpretty.

The semblance of order is beautiful, and it flirts with my incessant desire for predictability, consistency, and control.  But even I know that it is merely a veil.  Life refuses to commit to coloring inside the lines.

So forget the order and give up the false hope of maintaining control.  Appreciate the amazing and wonderful magic of unpredictability that can only be found outside the pretty.  Also maybe stick with the chicken at my table.

But keep your paws off my rack.

.a1 mystery spices
Seriously – what the heck do people make with this stuff?  No.  Don’t tell me.  I’m sticking with salt salt.  These are expired anyway.

 

*** MoJo ***

This post was inspired by the WordPress weekly photo challenge.  Details are below for those interested in joining the fun.

Order

The sites below approached the concept of order in completely different yet completely fantastic ways. I love each of these posts. They inspire me and remind to keep my eyes and my perspective open. Thank you calmkate, serendipity, colonialist, lifeofangela, and kochiphotography for your superb submissions.

calmkate’s corporate configuration –
https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/36430263/posts/1489880021
serendipity’s own spice shout out –
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/32386031/posts/1110289965
colonialist’s clever colony –
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/13900062/posts/9733
lifeofangela’s affinity for alignment –
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/110993086/posts/15269
kochiphotography’s beauty of the birds –
https://kochiphotography.wordpress.com/2017/06/08/order-of-the-birds/

One last note of thanks to my dear friend Maria.  I am tremendously grateful for your beautiful friendship in my times of order as well as my times of chaos.  You are a gift in my life.  🙂

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