"We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?" Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God.'" -Marianne Williamson
 

Daffodils

by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
  That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
  A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
  And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
  Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
  Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
  In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
  In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
  Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

"There is in every true woman's heart, a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity, but which kindles up and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity." 

- Washington Irving, The Sketch Book

"It is indeed, a trial to maintain the virtue of humility when one can't help being right."  Judith Martin

“Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habit. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.” -Lao Tzu

The most dangerous place in the world is between a mother and her children!

Texas women know their elegant gentlemen:             Men in Wranglers

Men in Uniform

Men in Tuxedos

     "The heroine answers the call, "usually by necessity."   She is called to embark upon the Heroine's Journey of transformation through a crisis (danger and opportunity) of one kind or another.   She finds herself stuck in a too small job, relationship, or life. Running on empty, she is slowly dying of perfectionism, the need to please, and a lack of time. Everything is closing in on her.

     She is stuck in the muck (depression), her days lived on auto-pilot and survival mode. Empty, numb and depleted in heart, body and spirit she crawls into the ground (bed) every night waiting and praying for Grace. She is being called and what happens next is a choice.

     Will she choose to heed the call and transform? Or will she choose the grave and build the house back the same old way continuing on ad-nausea with perfectionism, pleasing others, emptiness, stressed for time, depressed, and living like a robot?

The path she chooses will make all the difference."   Rebecca Jeffers

 

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,  And that has made all the difference".  Robert Frost

Is it forgiveness even if we don't forget and scars remain?  Sharon Van Baale

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, champagne in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, "Woohoo!!  What a ride!""  Kate Langdon

"Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do.  Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong." 

Ella Fitzgerald

"Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumble bee doesn't know it so it goes on flying anyway."  Mary Kay Ash

"The beaten track does not lead to new pastures."  Indira Gandhi

"I used to be Snow White, but I drifted"  Mae West

Epitaph  By Merrit Malloy

 

When I die

Give what’s left of me away

To children

And old men that wait to die.

And if you need to cry,

Cry for your brother

Walking the street beside you

And when you need me,

Put your arms

Around anyone

And give to them

What you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,

Something better

Than words

Or sounds.

Look for me

In the people I’ve known

Or loved,

And if you cannot give me away,

At least let me live in your eyes

And not on your mind.

You can love me most

By letting

Hands touch hands

By letting

Bodies touch bodies

And by letting go

Of children

That need to be free.

Love doesn’t die,

People do.

So, when all that’s left of me

Is love,

Give me away

The most important mannerly act taught to young Texans is to never ask a man where he's from.  If he's from Texas, he'll tell you.  If he isn't don't embarrass him!

Sister, When you get on that scale, remind yourself that you are

wearing the FULL Armor of God and that stuff is HEAVY!

The Little Elf-Man

I met a little Elf-man once
Down where the lilies blow.
I asked him why he was so small,
And, why he didn't grow.

He slightly frowned, and with his eye
He looked me through and through.
'I'm just as big for me,' said he,
'As you are big for you!'

By J. K. Bangs

(One of my mother's favorites)
 

From my mother to me March 25, 2021, The ad for an ornament and this poem popped up, in the middle of a story, 3 clicks away from Facebook. She passed away March 12, 2021.

Tapestry of My Life

I wonder what the other side

will be when I have finished

weaving all of my thread. 

I do not know the pattern nor the end of this great piece of work, which is for me.  I only know that I must weave with care the colors that are given me, day by day, and make of them a fabric, firm and true, which will be of service for my fellow man.  Sometimes those colors are so dark and gray I doubt if there will be one line or trace of beauty there.  But all at once there comes a thread of gold or rose so deep that there will always be that one bright spot to cherish or to keep.  And...maybe against its darker round of hue, it would be beautiful.  The warp is held in place by the Master's hand.  The Master's mind made the design for me; if I but weave the shuttle to and fro and blend just the best I know, perhaps when it is finished, He will say "Tis fine!" and lay it upon the footstool for His feet.

Author Unknown (This poem hung on the wall of my mother's room for years. We had it read at her Celebration of Life Service.)

The Summons for Grand Jury Duty by Sharon Van Baale

 

Was the week 'fore Reunion while cleaning the place,

The fan blades (yes, Mandy), the carpets and drapes,

Washing windows and curtains, sheets and bedspreads

Planning menus and shopping lists from dishrags to breads.

 

I moved bookcases, dusted and watered the lawn,

Like a wild woman, I was just getting things done!

Guess the B12 was kicking in big time because..

Like a whirlwind I moved through the house without pause.

 

Was down to the final days of preparation and then...

I noticed an envelope...long, white and thin

In the mail with my paper, some bills and a pencil.

I read my name on the front...big, bold and official.

 

It came unexpectedly, not at all a good time!

I opened it up and read line by line....

For Grand Jury Duty you're ordered "Appear!"

The day 'fore your reunion, You need to be here!

"If we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it; if we desire to secure peace, one of the most powerful instruments of our rising prosperity, it must be known that we are at all times ready for War." --George Washington

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