%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   Drop by drop the snow pack dies, watering the arid lands below. |
    Other Blogs and Journals containing the continuing writing adventures of Prosperous Snow celebrating   "The Snowflake Chronicles"  "More Snow Melt" "Writing in Snow" "Welcome to My Life" "Memories of Snow" "Dreams of Snow " Poet999's Thoughts about Writing and Other Stuff http://poet999writingthoughts.blogspot.com/ Poet999 - A Butterfly Emerges From Her Cocoon http://poet999.blogspot.com/ |
Since I found no prompt today, this is what my muse came up with considering that I have two hours before going to work and I still have to put water in the radiator. The page lays before me embryonic perfection marked by word, phrase, line or stanza. How am I to fill this page? What am I gong to write? My inner critic is rolling on the floor laughing and tell my muse it's impossible an author can't write to a blank prompt. My muse just looks at him she know better, but refuses to voice her opinion because it will bring on an argument, after all my inner critic has made up his mind and neither logic nor fact will change it. My muse takes a deep breath and begins to compose an Ode to a Blank page; true it doesn't rhyme and odes should rhyme so maybe we will have to rewrite, but that's OK. Rewriting will come later now we just need to get it written and posted. If this isn't the intended prompt then we will simply write another Day 6 Journal Challenge response. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by earlybird for September 24, 2008. "Invalid Entry" to refresh themselves, meditate and pray. My little time away usually ends up occurring on the back patio or in my car driving home from work. I'm going to change that this coming 19 days. I set new goals and some of them require about 15 to 30 minutes alone, in the morning or evening.As a results, I'm considering closing my bedroom door and going in there. I'll just tell Mom I need some time alone and that I don't want to be disturbed unless it looks like the world is coming to an end. I don't have to answer the phone and Mom can see out the window of the front door, so she doesn't have to answer it if there is a stranger there. I'd like to take the 15 to 30 minutes after I get off work, but I couldn't do it consistently. After I get off we go someplace on one or two days a week. Not that I'm going to be driving much until I can raise $1,500.00 for a car, but we'll have to go somewhere at least one day a week until then. Or until the car refuses to go any more. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by Paige Turner  for September 23, 2008.Paige Turner wrote “Gratitude…turns "Invalid Entry" , chaos to order, confusion to clarity.”I love my toxic sister. I am grateful that she doesn't live with Mom and me. I pray that the next time she say "Can I come live with you and Mom for a while?" I have the sense to say "No, you can't" All right, I have a problem saying NO. I know that saying YES is enabling, but I couldn't help it in the past. The present and the future are completely different stories. Now it's a simple matter of self-preservation. My mother depends on me and I can't have someone living in the house I can't trust. There, I wrote it, the phrase I've been thinking for years. Now the next step is to say it face to face, which may or may not ever happen. At one time, I wanted to be close to my sister. I know women and girls who are best friends with their sisters. I would have like that, I suspect it may be too late now, but there is always that distant shadow of hope. I'm too stubborn to give up hope, after all I take after my father. I'm just no longer going to be foolish enough to let that shadow interfere with logic and numerous past experiences with my sister. I love my toxic sister. Sounds like a good bumper sticker. However, since I'm not going to have one made and wouldn't waste the bumper space to put it on my car; I'll just have to use it as the title of a short story or poem. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by MaryLou for September 22, 2008.All right folks, "Invalid Entry" whose mothers do things to aggravate them as well. Mothers do things like that, without realizing that's what their doing. Mothers presume they are helping. I think God every day that my mother, who is 87 is still with me. True she does some rather odd things at times and her self-talk, which she does aloud can be distracting, but that's OK.Mom is still with me and I'm still her baby. Despite the fact that I'm 61 going on 62 years old and the oldest of the four children she gave birth to. I learn a couple of years ago that she had a miscarriage before me. I learned this year that Mom has been fighting low self-esteem for years. When my mother gets up each morning she kisses me and gets us coffee. I make the coffee, but she likes to get so who am I to deprive her of something she likes to do. She likes cleaning house, but she isn't as fast at 87 as she was at 78. Since she doesn't want help cleaning house and gets aggravated at me when I try to help I have two choices. First, I can just let her do it at her pace and tell her what a good job she's doing. Second, I can wait until she's asleep and do some of it myself, while telling her what a good job she's doing. My mother tells me every other day or so, how much I act like my father. This is probably a good thing since it means I'm too damn stubborn to give up. I know my mother loves me despite the fact that she put orange juice in the red pitcher I usually use to fill the coffee maker with water. So I use a glass until the pitcher is empty. Since she can't drink apple juice, the orange juice belongs to her and the pitcher is being used until she finishes the orange juice. I looked at myself in the mirror one day and frightened myself because I realized how much I looked like my mother. I listened to my self-talk one day and frightened myself because I realized how much I sounded like my mother. |
“Nothing can add more power to your life than concentrating all your energies on a limited set of targets.” -- Nido Qubein The 80/20 rule explains why I'm getting no where fast. This challenge came at a good time for me. I set my goals on a 19-day schedule, with a daily to do list based on that schedule. After asking myself "Which tasks are directly related to what I most want in life? " I realized I was putting the important tasks at the bottom of the list and not the top. When I work on my goals, I work from the top down with the highest priority goals at the top. I begin a new 19-day period on the evening of September 26 (I'm working on a solar day from sunset to sunset). I will rewrite the next 19-day goals so that the highest priority items are on top and the lowest on bottom. In the mean time, I will just work with the present list the way it is and work around the "screwed up" priorities. I keep my "to do list" in an excel spread sheet and make daily entries on the achievements. This way I can bring myself to account each day. |
"Envy is a poison which colors your experiences so that joy is only superficial, serving the ego and not the spirit." by sybil It's said that envy is a green-eyed monster, I don't think so. Green is the color of life, how can something that kills the spirit and friendships be green. If envy is green-eyed monster then it's shaded by darkness; it isn't exactly a black green, but something darker and more sinister. There is a question about envy, which has haunted me lately. Do the people we envy, envy us in return? We usually envy people for something they have that we don't have and want. Is it possible that we have something they want and don't have? I'm not exactly sure what brought that specific question to mind. It just popped into my head one day. Until now I haven't did anything with it, but it seems like a good theme for a story. I don't think something like that would work very well in a poem, but it would make a good story. |
"When all the open paths closes before you, follow the glimmer of hope in your heart, it will lead you to a new life." Humming Bird  Glittering, sparkling, shining a Light within my soul Ignites a flame that Melts the darkness of my doubt and fears, Makes my spirit rise and intone prayers; Each step I take in this dark trackless wilderness Reveals a new opportunity for praise. Of all the fires that in this darkness Flares, the brightest is the flame of faith and hope. Happiness comes to the seeking lover Open to the Possibilities of finding a new path, which Eventually leads to the Beloved and a new life. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by Wendopolis for September 21, 2008.My mind is full of "Invalid Entry" thoughts at 1:48 AM or at least it was until I started composing this response. Now it's gone blank. Its dark outside and dawn is still about three or four hours away. I believe today is the first day of fall. I need to write an Haiku to celebrate the darkness or the first day of fall I'd better save this periodically because my Internet connection is yo-yoing this morning. I can count to 19 using the fingers of just one hand and to 95 using the fingers of both hands. I'm hungry, but I took my thyroid pill about 1:30 AM so I can't eat until after 2:30 AM. I bought a Sunday paper yesterday for the first time in over a year. 2008 has gone too fast. I will be 62 on December 24 and I want to celebrate this year. I've memorized the Tablet of Ahmad. My writing.com birthday is in October. I need to go make some coffee. I have 12 pain pills left in the bottle of meds the dentist prescribed for me. As soon as I can eat this morning, I'm fixing me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I'm going to put a packet of hot chocolate mix in with my coffee this morning. I need to clean out my e-mail boxes. I need to clean out my garage. I think my mind has just gone blank again. I need to finish the poem I started last night before I went to sleep. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by femmedragon for September 20, 2008. "Invalid Entry" : Everything I know about sex by Don Juan Casanova Murphy."What is this?" Lottie picked up the manuscript laying on the coffee table and leafed through it. "And who is Don Juan Casanova Murphy?" "Me," said Calvin, taking the manuscript from Lottie and placing it in his brief case. "So you're writing fantasy novels now are you?" She smiled as she studied the expression on her brother-in-laws face. "No, Lottie, it's a how to manual," he glared at her. "By the way, where is my wife?" "Sue is setting behind the wheel in your car, but she's in a weird mood." "What do you mean?" "She's alternating, at five minutes intervals, between laughter and tears. The neighbors are beginning to get concerned because apparently she's been doing that for the last hour or so." "Any idea what her problem is, Lottie?" "My guess, Calvin, is that she saw your manuscript. If I were you, I wouldn't let her drive in her condition or with that potential book in your car." "Why?" "Calvin, if the cops stop her, I'm not bailing either of you out of jail." "Why should either of us go to jail, Lottie?" "Her for DUIL, Driving Under the Influence of a Liar, and you for being the Liar." Calvin shot an "if looks could kill" expression at his sister-in-law and stalked out of the house. |
| Perfectionism: “We have the need to be accepted and to be loved by others, but we cannot accept and love ourselves. The more self-love we have, the less we will experience self-abuse. Self-abuse comes from self-rejection, and self-rejection comes from having an image of what it means to be perfect and never measuring up to that ideal. Our image of perfection is the reason we reject ourselves the way we are, and why we don't accept others the way they are.” ~ Don Miguel Ruiz We don't love ourselves because we don't know who we are. We, human beings, are dual natured creatures. that is we have a material or physical body and a spirit or soul. Our physical bodies are part of the animal (for lack of a better word) creation and our souls are gifts from the Divine Creator or God. The soul or spiritual body is the image of God, which isn't a physical image because God is a spirit. Our souls contain all the attributes of God. We don't see these spiritual attributes in ourselves because we're looking at perfection through a broken mirror. We see the physical part of ourselves and we see our limitations, we don't see the attributes of God that our souls contain. These spiritual attributes, like our physical attribute, have to be exercised and practiced to develop. A baby can't learn to walk unless if we carry it around all the time. To walk a child must be allowed to crawl, pull itself up on furniture, and then fall down several times before acquiring the skill. A child eventually learns to walk, even after falling down numerous times. Spiritual attributes have to be practiced, but practicing them doesn't always come as naturally as learning to walk. Some spiritual attributes appear to come more naturally to some individuals then others. For instance, some individual are more loving then others, some are more creative then others. However, we still need to consciously develop these attributes through out our live or they atrophy. We see perfection through a broken mirror, we don't see the image of God within our souls we see the image of matter. We focus on the lack, reject ourselves and refuse to love ourselves because we aren't perfect. Perfection is the ideal, but it's a spiritual perfection that is our goal not a material or physical perfection. In order, to develop our spiritual attributes we have to exercise them, which means sometimes we're going to fall down. When we fall down, we have to get up and try again and again and again. |
"In order to experience true joy, one must quell any feelings of sadness."by totodile Joy and sadness are lovers, walking hand-in-hand over a rock strewn highway. Joy sees the roses beside the road, inhales their fragrance, picks a blossom; a thorn pierces her finger drawing blood and she weeps at the beauty of the rose. Sadness sees the difficulties before them and the thorns on the stems of the rose bushes; he bewails the unfairness of existence, the terror of beauty laced with pain, curses the stones that burse his bare feet. Joy smiles through the tears and the pain convinced that the end of the journey will bring them to paradise and to the tree of life where they will merge into a single multihued butterfly. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by Pia Veleno for September 19, 2008.I write bitter love poems and "Invalid Entry" Love is the thorn from a rose penetrating my heart and burying itself in my soul. Love is a river Drowning me in its cold Dark waters. Love is a virus Infecting my mind Desire. Love is a star Going nova in my soul Burning logic to ashes. Let's face it, I just can't title them Bitter Love Poem #1, Bitter Love Poem #2, etc. It gets a little old. Love poems, bitter or not, should have more creative name. Actually, now that I look at those poems, I think they could be a little bit more creative. I'll rewrite them. Using examples from my love life, which I gave up when I learned what type of male I'm attracted to. You notice I didn't say man, I said male. There is a difference, the word man refers to an adult who knows how to treat women and respects women. Male can refer to either an adult or youth or whatever (maybe I should say whoever). OK, I'm a little bitter; I'm slowly getting over it and forgiving myself for being so gullible. Of course, low self-esteem could have something to do with the type of men I was attracted to, but I'm working on the self-esteem issue. Actually, I'm working on a lot of issues. |
My Grandma and Grandpa Newwland who were always there for me when I was growing up. Grandpa Newland was my guardian angel. He rescued me when I closed myself in a refrigerator. He taught me how to drink coffee and to drive. He taught me how to water ski and set off fireworks for the Fourth of July. Grandpa was always there when I needed him. He was my father figure after my parents divorced. Grandma Newland was my best friend. She taught me how to wash dishes the old fashion way, with a dishrag and a towel to dry them. She always give me water with ice cubes in it winter or summer. She bought me dolls for Christmas and paper dolls to cut out. She let me cut paper dolls from old Ward's catalogs. I remember Grandma and Grandpa sleeping is separate beds. Grandpa smoked and Grandma was allergic to cigarette smoke. Grandpa could smoke in his room, which he was responsible for cleaning. His room smelled of Prince Albert Smoking Tobacco. Grandma took care of the rest of the house. Mom remembers them sleeping in the same bed together. Mom said when Grandma couldn't sleep she would get up and clean house, while Grandpa laid there and snored away. Grandpa snored and both of my brothers snore. Grandpa was bald since he was a young man, Mom remembers rubbing his hairless head as a little girl sitting on his lap. One of my brothers started going bald in high school. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by Erika for September 17, 2008."Invalid Entry" made on thespur of the moment without looking at consequences. As I walk pain radiates, from my right knee with each step I walk on, as the pain writes itself on my soul. Perhaps, it wasn't a good idea to walk from work on Atlantic to the Food 4 Less on the corner of Sahara and Eastern, buy four quarts of oil and a bottle of dish washing liquid; then carry it to the bus stop and eventually all the way home in addition to my heavy purse. Was it the bus drivers fault or my inattentiveness that caused the bus to top two or three blocks further up Eastern then I wanted. I have to admit that at 61 I can't do everything I could do at 16; I know that the pain in my right knee increases when I walk on cement sidewalks; The choice was mine of course, simply because I didn't look at consequences doesn't mean I'm not responsible for my own choices and my own pain. |
| ‘Idál (Justice), 10 ‘Izzat (Might), 165 B.E. – Wednesday, September 17, 2008 about 1:49 AM Pacific Time My Car is parked in my driveway and it's going nowhere until I get off work today. A neighbor will take to work, but I'm going to have to make other plans if the car isn't drivable by Monday. As it is, I'm gong to have to figure a way to get it to the mechanic. I didn't drive it yesterday or go to work. On Monday, the car overheated while Mom and I were out. So instead of going to the bank, I came home and let it cool down. I figured I'd put water in it Tuesday morning and drive it. The problem was it wouldn't hold water and from the looks of where it was leaking it wasn't the radiator, but a hose. It turns out it isn't the hose, but the thermostat. Now I have to get a new thermostat, so I have to get it to my mechanic. In the mean time, I still can't drive it because I have to put at least two quarts of oil in. I'll stop at Food 4 Less this afternoon on the way home from work, get 4 or 5 quarts, and then put in what I need. If I still can't drive it, with the thermostat acting the way it is, I'll call Triple A. I now have Triple A and my membership is scheduled for validation this afternoon sometime. A neighbor took me to the Triple A offices yesterday afternoon and I bought a years membership. I still have some money left, but I have o check the address of my machines to see if it's less then 5 miles from my house. If it's more then that I have to pay the extra. Oh well, I don't have to worry about that this morning. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by Frangipani for September 15. 2008.Rodger and Elena sit on the living room couch discussing "Invalid Entry" . Each time Rodger mentioned a new term, Elena wrote it down in a little red book. Until that day, Elena had always insisted on atomically correct terms for human body part. Needless to say, Rodger was a bit perplexed at his wife's sudden curiosity about terms for his little buddy."Alright, Elena," he poured her another glass of wine, "what gives? Why this sudden curiosity about terms you never cared to use before? Why are you writing them down?" "I," Elena blushed, "got a new assignment at work. An assignment that will double my current salary." "That's great, Sweet Heart," Rodger sipped his glass of wine, "but what has that got to do with our discussion?" "My boss, Ms Coalman, wants me to compose e-mails selling the company's new enhancement products, but she doesn't want me to creative misspell the word. Nor does she want any of the commonly used terms. However, she still want potential male clients to understand what body part the e-mail refers to." "They doubled your salary to write spam!" "Creative spam, Honey." |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by Susannah Deschain for September 14, 2008I have been "Invalid Entry" for the past several months, but with assistance we finally got the back power bill paid. I'm one of those people who sees the worst case scenario as a real possibility. Dispite the fact that I've never actually encountered the worst case scenario. My vision of the worst case scenario is always much worse then what actually happens.As I said, I have been feeling the pinch for the past several months. In August, when I called the Nevada Power to inform them when could pay the bill due August 20l, I had the due date changed from the 20th of the month to the 6th. My next bill is is due October 6, right after a check comes in. I still have the phone bill and the water bill to deal with, as well as a number of medical bills for both Mom and myself. Fortunately, Mom has insurance and her co-pay isn't high. I bought her meds Saturday. Between the cash in my purse and the money in my account I had enough to get her meds. However, I didn't have enough to buy gas for the car. Fortunately, my paycheck came in Saturday. I expected it Friday, but it didn't come. I was worried that it wouldn't come before today. I haven't checked my account yet today. When I checked it Sunday (I just love online banking) it was still in the black. If the check had came Friday, I would have taken it to the my bank and deposited it. Today I'm going to go to the bank the check is drawn on, cash it and then deposit most of it in my bank (I'm following a gut feeling on this). I'm not feeling the pinch this morning, that doesn't mean I won't feel it sometime today. This morning I woke up in a good mood, with only minor worries plaguing me. Those worries have dissipated. Apparently, I can't worry and pray at the same time. |
My response to the Leading Journal entry by Jenn for September 13, 2008A "Invalid Entry" is usually what I end up having with siblings, my mother, my friends, ex-lovers and myself. Normally, I don't talk aloud or whisper to myself, my conversation is usually completely in my head. I don't have many conversations with myself anymore. I get much too negative when I have a discussion with myself.Instead of talking to myself, I address Baha'u'llah in my mental conversations. This prevents the conversation getting overly negative. It also helps me focus on finding a solution to the problem I'm facing at the moment. I decided long ago that life is too short to have negative conversations with anyone, especially myself. My sister and I, aren't on good enough terms to have silly conversations about anything. We do talk occasionally, but only when it has to do with Mom. When Mom was in the hospital last year, my sister said she wished we were closer. There was a time when I wished my sister and I were closer, but not anymore. I'm closer to my brothers and their wives, then I am to my sister. I don't thank any of us have had a conversation about shaving legs. I never did shave my legs, all though I did shave my arm pits at one time. I gave that up when I realized what type of men I'm attracted to. I have to face the fact that they didn't care one way or another, whether I shaved any part of my body. The males I'm attracted to want only one thing and nothing else matters to them. As for what part of my body looks like an animal's body part. I've never actually considered that before. All though, at 61 and gravity taking its toll, I think my breast are beginning to resemble a cow's utter. In fact, I'm considering writing a parity to the song "Does your ears hang low", but instead of ears use breast or boobs. Do your boobs hang low, Can you swing them too and fro, Can you throw them over your shoulder Like a contential soldier, Do your boobs hang low? |
| Jalál (Glory), 6 ‘Izzat (Might), 165 B.E. – Saturday, September 13, 2008 6:36 PM Pacific Time There are certain things you don't consider when having all your teeth pulled. When this started, I didn't think about things like chewing my food or drooling. At my last dental appointment, the dentist pulled four teeth out of my upper right jaw. I miss those teeth. I miss them because I used them to chew my food. It's a lot more difficult to chew without them. Most of my teeth in my lower jaw were out before I even went to the dentist. Several teeth were missing in the upper jaw on the left side and the teeth that were still there were loose. It seems I did most of my chewing on the right side of my mouth, using the four teeth recently pulled. I'm having more difficultly chewing my food. In addition, I now drool in my sleep. For yeas I heard about people drooling in their sleep, I thought it was funny. I still think it's funny, even though I drool in my sleep now. Of course, there are worse things a person can do in their sleep then drool. Actually, the only problem with drooling in my sleep is I have to wash the pillowslip every day now. |
| Coffee and chocolate have played big parts in my life for most of the past 61 years. My first encounter with chocolate occurred during an Easter egg hunt. My grandparents lived in the smelter heights, on the wrong side of the tracks. They lived across from a small airport. Every year the city would sponsor an Easter Egg Hunt and the eggs were hidden in the grass surrounding the airports runways. All the small children would hunt for Easter Eggs and everyone found at least one colored egg. In addition, my grandparents would give each child an Easter basket full of candy and chocolate eggs, as well as one chocolate bunny a piece. I would eat my chocolate bunny slowly starting at the ears. I wanted to savor each bite of chocolate as I ate it. This was my first encounter with chocolate. My first encounter with coffee was more dramatic and painful. It occurred on a Sunday morning. I was sitting on my father's lap and he was reading the comics to me. He had a cup of hot coffee setting on the table in front of him. I watched daddy pick the cup up periodically and sip it. When he was focused on reading a comic, I reached out and grabbed the cup. I pulled the hot coffee onto my father's lap and my own. Dad rushed me to the hospital, which wasn't very far from where we lived. Everyone should have known that I would be a coffee drinker. After only a coffee drinker is going to pull a hot cup of coffee onto her lap when she's only three or four years old. While my father played a big roll in my first encounter with coffee, it was my mother's father, who taught me to drink coffee. My grandfather made what he called Cowboy Coffee. It was strong enough ride a horse and drive a herd of cows across the plains. I did an Internet search a couple of weeks ago and found that there actually is a recipe for Cowboy Coffee. According to INeedCoffee http://www.ineedcoffee.com/02/cowboycoffee/ you need 4 qt. water 1 1/2 cups freshly ground coffee 1 egg shell 1/2 cup cold water Bring the 4 qt. water to boil in a sauce pan or coffee pot. Add the coffee grounds and the eggshell and then bring the mix to a boil again. After it boils remove from heat and let stand 2 minutes. Next slowly add the cold water (this is to settle the grounds) and let stand 1 minute. This wasn't the way my grandfather made coffee. He used an electric percolator, which he left plugged in all day. In the morning he put in the water and the basket of coffee grounds and then plugged in the coffee pot. He never unplugged the coffee pot, unless he needed make more coffee. When this happened he put in cold water and some fresh grounds on top of the used ones. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
