Haiku about a Busy Day

 Today I felt as if I spent most of my day in the car and driving people places. It started with driving the oldest to school, then taking the youngest to an appointment. After that, I drove her to school. I then returned home to pick up my husband and drove him to an appointment. Driving him to work was next. I drove home and ate something, followed by driving the middle child to a friend's house. I had an hour and a half at home before picking up my mom to take her to get a test done. While the test was being done, I drove to pick up my husband from work and then my daughter from the Boys & Girls Club. After dropping them off home, I returned to my mother and drove her home. My husband called me and told me my oldest was ready to be picked up from practice. So off I go to retrieve him. On the way home we pick up the middle kid and dinner. We returned home, ate, and off again with the oldest to an appointment. Finally, drove home and here I remain for the rest of the night.

The haiku for the day describes my day. I'm tuckered out!

Back and forth and back

North side, south side, east side, west

Drop off, pick up. Whew!

Haiku about My Glasses

(This was meant to be posted yesterday 2/27/13)

I've been wearing glasses since third grade. I remember going to the optometrist regularly. He was very nice, and I liked that he told me about the instruments he used and about how the eye worked. Throughout the years, my eyes worsened. I have extreme astigmatism and am virtually blind without them. I'm very grateful to live at this time in history. If I had been born a hundred years earlier, I would probably not be able to see well even with spectacles. 

Last night I woke up around  4 o'clock. I could not find my glasses. For about 30 minutes I searched for those darn things. I could not see very well at all and Roel could not help very much. But, he did move the bed back so we could check if they fell between the wall and the head of the bed. No luck there. I have a pile of clothes next to the bed (yes, I can be a slob), and went through that to see if they fell on it. I picked up every piece of clothing and shook each out. No luck there either. We shook out the bed covers. Nothing. Roel searched around his side of the bed. Still no glasses. The thing that was so frustrating was that I was compelled to reach for my glasses every few minutes to look for my glasses! My eyes are so bad. It was very late and I was tired. I broke down a couple of times and started crying. My husband was so patient. We went through all the spots again and still didn't find the glasses. I was sweating so much that I said I stunk like our son when he didn't wear deodorant. I was miserable and I broke down again. I started being mad at myself and called myself stupid. And as I was about to start a full on pity party, I reached between the bed and a box and there they were hidden, laughing at me. "I found them," I said. "Good," said my beloved. And I went to take a shower

Tonight I write this haiku dedicated to my glasses, which have been a part of me since I was eight. 

My frame and lenses

Perched upon my nose all day.

Lose them, I'm useless.

Haiku to Johnny Cash

I sold a book on Ebay a while back. It was the best sell I ever did. It was a first edition of I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash I bought at a garage sale about a year earlier for a quarter.  I threw it up on Ebay in the middle of all the hype of the movie with Joaquin Phoenix. I thought, "Let's see what happens." And lo and behold I sold it for almost $80! 

I like Johnny Cash, not because he gave me about a 300% profit on Ebay. I really like his music. I think it's real, heart-felt. I like his voice. His wife wrote Ring of Fire, about her attraction to him and it became one of his most popular songs. Folsom Prison Blues has one of the darkest lines ever. I Walk the Line is a true love song. He sang a song written by Shel Silverstein called A Boy Named Sue. And then there's the one that is probably my favorite Hurt, a cover of an industrial band's song. 

Today's haiku is to Johnny Cash, whose birthday is today.

Man in Black singing

Nine Inch Nails. You made me cry.

All that emotion.

Haiku to My Aunt

One of the hardest times in my life was the final days of watching and waiting while my father died from kidney cancer. He died at home. We took care of him--my mother, my sisters, my grandma, my aunt and myself. We were together 24/7 tending to my father's physical needs. My sisters and I grew closer to our grandmother and aunt during these days. We did not know them very well. For some reason, extended family was not a big part of my childhood, and we visited rarely. If one good thing came out of my father's illness and subsequent death, it was that I came to know these strong, compassionate, resilient  women I was related to--my father's mother and sister.

It's been over 14 years, and my grandma has since passed. My aunt and I have kept in touch. Through facebook, we are sharing our lives with each other. I love that. We can laugh and celebrate and cry with each other with the help of technology. We have visited each other's homes, but not as often as we wish we could. She is an important part of our lives. I hope she realizes how special she has become to me over the years. She is my aunt, a tie to my father, a friend, and overall, a pretty terrific person.

Today's haiku is dedicated to my aunt, whose birthday is today, who I miss seeing, and I'm so happy we came to know each other, even if it was through sadness and grief.

We need to visit

And have dinner, and talk,

And laugh, face to face.

Haiku about Family Strength

All of us were running on fumes this afternoon. Oldest spent the night at a friend's house, and fell asleep around 3:00 in the morning. Middle also spent the night at some friends' house and fell asleep around five in the morning. Youngest stayed up at Grandma's until 12:00 midnight! Husband and I stayed up visiting with a friend. I didn't sleep until after 2:30. He fell asleep way after me. Needless to say, by 6:00 tonight during dinner, we were walking zombies, some of us more than others. 

What I noticed was that there were no conflicts, no sudden mood swings, no whining, no tears, no arguing. I have to admit, six months ago, there would have been conflict, mood swings, whining and more. Our children have come a long way in using self-control when they aren't feeling 100%, in admitting the fun they had came with the cost of lack of good sleep, and in taking care of themselves when they are tired.  We had a very pleasant dinner and evening. 

 Tonight, I am so grateful that we have all worked very hard in dealing with the past trauma our children brought with them. I am grateful for the strength we have all found in ourselves to heal and to help heal. Today's haiku is in celebration to the growth our family has made.

The past we address.

Together, we learn from it .

Healing. Blossoming,

Haiku for Missing a Daily Haiku (3)

My apologies.

No daily post and haiku

By me yesterday.

Haiku for Missing a Daily Haiku (2)

Woke up this morning and realized I didn't write anything yesterday! My goal is to write a haiku a day. I am realistic when I say that I won't be able to make it every single day. But, I try my best. At the very least I will have 365 by the end of the year--making up the days I miss as soon as possible, even if it means creating two in a day now and again. So here's mine for missing out yesterday:

No post yesterday.

I enjoyed the day so much,

I simply forgot

Haiku about Family Dinner

I remember  back in my childhood, one of the things that we could count on is that dinner is around 5:30 and everyone eats together. I do not remember conversations in detail, but I remember having them. The food was in bowls or platters and we would pass them around. My dad would put tons of salt and pepper on his food. Us kids would try really hard not to make eating noises loud enough for my dad to hear, because he would get irritated. (I think I have the same problem. Look it up. It's called misophonia.) When we were finished, we would announce we were done and say "Thanks to God." And then we would kiss our mom thanks for the food.

At our house, with our kids, dinnertime is a little different. My husband and I try to have dinner with everyone as much as possible. We average about 4 or  5 times a week. Not nearly as often as in my childhood home. We have conversation. Like tonight we each told about something new in our life. These things were new: a back isn't hurting as much, two friends were convinced to join wrestling next year, a bedroom was streamlined by me, there are two cats out there at friends' homes that are as big as Katrina now (apparently a kitten has grown tremendously), and there was a refrigerator seen that would be awesome to have in our kitchen. We don't have bowls and platters; I pile on the food from the stove and the boys deliver the plates to the table. Yes, the eating noises bug me, but I don't think the kids are afraid to make them. I try to be polite and calm about it. Nobody kisses me thank you. Every once in a while I get a verbal thank you--but it's usually when I order pizza. 

Today let me present a haiku that is about family dinners. I love them, as long as everyone is getting along

Please pass the meatloaf.

Tell us what is new with you?

Hold on, I love fries.

 

Haiku about Frustration

Frustration: a feeling of dissatisfaction, often accompanied by anxiety or depression, resulting from unfulfilled needs or unresolved problems. Frustration comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes. The frustration of not being able to give your child what he or she needs. The frustration of being in a hurry and hitting every red light. The frustration of not remembering the name of that actor that plays Sam in Lord of the Rings. The frustration of spending over an hour at the grocery store, loading and unloading, to find out you need to return for a thing you forgot. The frustration of having to tell your kid every night to throw out the trash, even though he knows it's his responsibility. The frustration of sitting down to watch the show you've been looking forward to, and then find out it was an hour earlier. 

Today I had a situation that was so frustrating, I was in tears. I bought a contraption at Menards, put it together at home, and started using it. Then the handle came apart, and I could not put it back together. No matter what I did, I couldn't. It just wouldn't! I'm usually pretty good with these sort of thing, but this simple thing wasn't going to be nice. I felt like throwing it across the room. I felt like smashing it to smithereens. I felt like cussing bad, but I don't use the cuss word that I really wanted to say. I just sat and whined and then cried. After a few minutes, I sighed and said, "Okay, you win." Aaargh! 

So, I wrote a new haiku to commemorate my not too stellar moment this afternoon. 

To be read with clenched teeth.

What the..? What the heck?

Why? Why can't I. Just. Do. This?

This stupid piece of. . .

Haiku about a Brighter, Shinier Me

My major in college was Special Education: Emotionally Impaired. It required  many psychology classes. Psych 101, Abnormal Psychology, Personality and something I don't remember, Educational Psychology, Behavior Disorders, Group Dynamics, Child Development and more. I enjoyed studying psychology very much. I enjoyed learning about what makes us tick. Why do we do what we do? During one time in my life, I considered pursuing a degree in psychology, but it never happened.  And I'm alright with that. 

Today I read a little on Carl Roger's theory of self-actualizing, having our self-image match our ideal self. He says our only motive is to reach the point where how we see ourselves matches what we want our selves to be, which is to self-actualize. Where am I in self-actualizing?  I think my self-image and ideal self are overlapped some. And I want to work on the parts that are not. It's as if there is this other person inside me. One that is like me now, but brighter and shinier.

I've an inner self.

I wish she'd emerge fully,

'cause she's pretty cool.

Haiku about Excrutiating Boredom

Today my husband has to do something that has become extremely non stimulating  to him. He sees the end of this gig coming and let's just say he's "over it." And it's going to take a big chunk of time.Simply put he doesn't want to go.  And he has to do it again several more times. We've all been there. YUK! His lamenting of this chore reminded me of times when I have felt the same. Because of my husband's vision, I drove him to township board meetings he had to report on for the paper. Most of these townships were rural and  could be far away so I wouldn't go home. Instead I sat through these things with my husband. And I hated going to them. And I would dread it all day long.

These meetings were very close to the end of me. I would truly be in tears at the thought of going. I would bring a book or a puzzle book to keep myself entertained. But, that only lasted for an hour, if I'm lucky, with my ADD. I would have to move on to something else. So, I'd try listening to the board persons, but they would repeat themselves, and I would become a "bored" person, too. And sometimes the ultimate horror would occur, and they would go into a closed meeting to discuss an issue privately. We would have to wait for their decision.  And 4 times out of 5, it took them a half hour to realize they needed to gather more information, so the decision is postponed. I will never forget those torture devises they called metal folding chairs we had to sit on. Oh, my poor back. I would have to get up and take little walks. I walked around the foyer, looking at the little brochures about a water system, or I'd look at the pictures the secretary had on her desk of her grandkids (always cute). Or if I was really lucky they would have a map on the wall and I could look at that for about 10 minutes--the grids are pretty basic and the street names are so creatively named, like 64th Avenue or 126th Street. Yeah, there were bathrooms. But, there was just so much you can do in them, so I would spend time lathering up the soap and blowing bubbles through the ring I formed with my index finger and thumb. I tell you there were times when these meetings would end up lasting up to three, even four, hours! And they were SO boring and their meeting halls were boring and their bathrooms were boring.  I hated them. I shudder at the thought of them. And I rejoice that I don't have to go again. Oh, thank you, thank you, I don't have to sit through not even one ever again!!

Let me present my haiku that represents my pain during these meetings. Although they are hard to revisit, I find immense pleasure in knowing that they are a thing of my past--the same pleasure I have knowing my gall bladder pain is gone forever since it's been removed. 

Sitting for an hour.

They're only on item three?

Eight more!! (Silent scream).

Haiku for Understanding

As I mentioned before, my children are adopted from the foster care system here in Michigan. They were removed from a dangerous situation and placed in foster care. More than two years later they were up for adoption. Another year and a half and my husband and I find them.  It's a hard way to start out. They have come a long way from the first time we met. And their futures are brighter. 

Today I heard an adoptive mother talk about her journey with her daughter. She presented several issues I can relate to with our children. On one of the handouts was a sentence that spoke to me. It read "Fear will bully your child into poor behavior." This is very timely for me. Our daughter is going through a time that scares her, and, yes, poor behaviors have upped. Her best friends, and unfortunately, only friends in the neighborhood moved far away today. She's afraid she will never have anyone to play with. She's afraid the girls will forget her. She's afraid of feeling lonely. In a way, she is reliving her earlier abandonment, which frightens her.

Today I write a haiku that asks for patience and understanding, especially when dealing with trying behaviors that stem from a little girl's fear. 

Try to ease the fears

She's scared. He's afraid. Distressed.

Be their safe haven.

Haiku about a Disappearance

Many things happened today that I could choose as a subject for my writing.  My siblings and I met at a restaurant with our families and celebrated our mom's birthday. My daughter is in the process of saying good-bye to her best friends, two sisters who are moving to Florida. I drove in virtual white-out conditions to do an errand and was almost in an accident not once, but twice. My oldest made some awesome white chocolate covered strawberries. My husband is feeling overwhelmed with work. My two boys are getting along very well. (I hope I didn't just jinxed it). My niece and I talked about cute cats. My asthma is acting up. Lots of stuff. 

 

The one thing that has been on my mind this evening is some news my brother told me at the restaurant. He told me that the missing man whose story I had been following in the news was a boy I knew. I had not realized I knew him. This man dropped his son off at the college in town, visited his mother and drove back to his home about an hour and a half away. He never showed up home. He disappeared. His car was found far away in Missouri. It's a mystery. And it gives me a sad feeling that something bad could have happened to the boy. It scares me, too. Yes, this is heavy on my mind. 

Today's haiku tells my reaction to this news. I'm surprised at how scared I am about it.

To disappear (Poof!)

 Shocked. Frightened. Vulnerable

Could happen to me. 

Haiku about Not Taking Myself too Seriously

Sometimes I crack myself up. I can be totally in dimwitland and then wake up and find myself in laughable situations. I was doing some heavy duty grocery shopping years ago. I must have spent an hour filling up that cart. I got to my car and opened the trunk. When I reached down to grab the food, I said to myself "Something's not right." That's when I "woke up" and noticed the food was not in bags. I had pushed the cart right out the store, bypassing the checkout! I laughed all the way back in. Nobody noticed me leaving with the cart full of food, or returning with a cart full of food. How did I do that? I don't know, and I don't care.That was funny! 

I always thought that was my best dimwit moment. Today I had an incident that came pretty close to beating it. I was with one of our boys, driving him to a friend's house and conversing pretty well. We stopped at a gas station. We bought a couple of drinks and he bought some candy.  I paid for $30 worth of gas. On our way to his friend's house we continued our conversation, when I thought, "Let me see how far the gas gauge moved." I looked at the gauge, and thought "Something's not right." That's when I "woke up" and noticed the needle was still on the E. I had left the station without pumping! We hurried back and a man was looking at our pump with a confused look. I explained my situation to him and he said since I paid for his gas, he will pay for mine and gave me $30. (Very nice guy, and saw the humor in it all). How did I do that? I don't know and I don't care. And since it all turned out fine, I can say that was funny!

Today's haiku is in honor of all my humorous dimwit moments, and Lord knows there are a few. 

Oops. Oh my goodness!

Better to laugh at myself

Than call myself names.

Haiku about Valentine's Day

Call me a party-pooper, but I'm not into Valentine's Day. Never have been. Well, yeah when I was in elementary school, it was fun to share the valentines with the class. But, after that it was not an important day. Of course, I never had a serious "valentine" until my twenties. And even then, it wasn't all that. Now that I think about it, I just remembered that my ex-husband told me on Valentine's Day that he wanted to be my ex-husband. But, that is not why I'm not into Valentine's Day.  I hadn't been into it before and I haven't been into it after. Just haven't. 

Nowadays, I buy each of my kids a special heart-shaped candy, wish them a Happy Valentine's Day, tell them they're my valentines and hand the candy over to them. Then they gobble it down. My husband and I don't do very much, if anything. My husband says, "Why do I have to give you flowers or candy on this day? Just because a card company tells me to?" He's a rebel. I'm glad we agree about this day.  We would rather spend our money on...I don't know...a new washer and dryer?

So, sorry Valentine's Day fans, my haiku today is anti-Valentines Day, because  it's just a whole lot more fun to write than a lovey-dovey one.

It's Valentine's Day!

A day when Halmark tells us

"Ha ha, ya suckers!"

Haiku for My Mother (1)

 Mom came from extreme poverty in Panama. I believe she was the seventh child of nine. And from what I understand, the dirt-floor home she grew up in was pretty much in the middle of the hilly jungle countryside. She told us a few stories of her early years. Some stories were scary, like when she was washing clothes in the river and looked across and saw a black jaguar looking at her. Some stories were sad, like when she helped a woman wash the body of that woman's small child. Mom told us some funny stories, too. There were times that she walked to school through the forest and there would be a monkey that threw stuff at her and her siblings. I'm not sure what it threw at her, but I remember finding that story amusing. 

 

Today is Mom's birthday, and after I visited with her and gave her a gift, I drove home thinking of her birthday and wondered what her birthdays were when she was a child. I never did get very many details of Mom's childhood. But, from what I gather, overall, Mom had a rough one. I'm pretty sure she did not get all the attention and love she needed. I know she had to fix her own hair at a very young age because her mother would not. She slept on the floor on a mat and she probably didn't have many toys, nor nice clothes. Mom did not go to school much--she perhaps had a 3rd grade education. Her family needed the extra help she could give on the little bit of farm land my grandfather had. (He eventually lost all the land to a swindler). I'm pretty sure she saw things a child shouldn't ever see. Mom has come a long way from that dirt-floor hut she grew up in. I wonder if the little-girl-Mom dreamed her life could change so much. 

Today's haiku is written for the little girl who grew up to be my mom. I wish I could have told her this.

One day you will find

Comfort, safety and much love,

Be strong, persevere.

Haiku about Katrina Our Cat (1)

Our cat Katrina has a reputation that precedes her. She is known as a "mean" cat. But, actually she isn't "mean." She's more of a "I'm not taking any of your crap" kind of girl. If she doesn't like how you're looking at her, she will hiss at you, saying, "Hey, take a picture, it'll last longer." (Which we have, many, many times). If she thinks that you're walking past her too many times, she'll swipe your leg with her paw, as if saying "Enough with the pacing, give a girl some peace." If she doesn't like how you're ignoring her when she sits staring at you while you're eating ice cream, she will yell at you, saying "Hand it over, you selfish SoB." You get the idea. She just won't take your crap. It's her way, or the highway. 

Today, she watches me to see if I go to the kitchen. And when I do, she follows me, then zooms ahead of me toward her full food dish, looks back and meows at me. She wants me to replace the three pieces of kibble she ate an hour ago. "Replace them now, I say!" she demands. I ignore her. This is repeated again and again throughout the day. Well, I know when I have to spend more time in the kitchen later, she will follow me and watch me and start to yell at me. 

So, today my haiku is an interpretation of Katrina's vocals as she exerts her will.

I will torture you

with countless constant meows 

'til  you obey me.

Haiku to My Children (1)

Both my husband and I performed pretty well in school and we continued our education into college after high school. We went the traditional route. There's this semi-panicky thought that use to run through my head, the one that tells me I don't have much time to get them to 18, when they will leave for college and have a bright careers and happy futures. The flaws in this way of thinking we learned very quickly. 1) Our children are not us. What was best for us, may not be best for them. 2) Our children need time to heal and grow. It may be necessary for their stay under our roof to be extended longer than the traditional child. 3) Doing well in high school is not always necessary to be successful and happy in the future. Neither is college. However, training and developing skills are necessary to make a livelihood. 4) Our children's futures are theirs. Their choices are theirs. Their consequences (good and bad) are theirs to learn from. And 5) 18 is not a magical age full of "shoulds" and "have to's".

 This morning as we were getting ready for school, I had to remind myself of these truths as my oldest child, a junior in high school, hands me a crumpled up application to the career/vocational center and informs me that I should fill it out for him by Friday. And then he proceeds to push his school-issued i-pad into a book bag overstuffed with school papers, from September I'm sure, food wrappers and empty drink bottles, and gym clothes (stinky, I can smell them).  I notice he is wearing his pajama bottoms under his sweats, as I remind him he needs to eat breakfast. "Oh, yeah," he mumbles.  I shake my head and have to smile a little as I think about how this man-child will be considered legally an adult in a short year and a half.

Today's haiku is a little advice to my children, who will have bright and happy futures, no matter which road they choose to get there. 

 Someone smart once said

To predict a great future

You must create it.

Haiku about Missing a Daily Haiku (1)

Yesterday I  was completely out of it and couldn't construct a haiku for the day. I feel like I should make up for it today. This is why I was out of it:

My allergies struck

Spent a day in la-la land

Thanks to medicine.

Haiku about Walking Dead (1)

 I'm very familiar with names like Freddy Kruger, Leatherface, Michael Myer, Jason, Pinhead, Damien, Jigsaw and if I had time I could think of a few more. Yes, I am a horror genre fan. I love scary movies. Not only that I love scary books. In fact, my husband and I met on a Stephen King message board many years ago. And I like tv shows that can be scary, like the CSIs, Criminal Minds, Supernatural, and American Horror Story. I love, love, love it.

My husband is a big fan as well, and we are discovering that our middle kid is one as well. So, it wouldn't surprise anyone when I say that one thing that has been on our minds this weekend is the return of The Walking Dead. If you haven't heard of this show, well I guess you haven't read much of my facebook statuses. The Walking Dead is a show many may describe as gory with people-eating zombies, and zombie-killing heroes. But, The Walking Dead is not just about scary zombies. It is a story of a group of people trying to survive the zombie apocalypse--as a group and as individuals. It is a story about how a group and individuals change living in this world where you "fight the dead and fear the living." My husband, middle kid and I love the show.  So, the three of us have been waiting for its return since December 2nd. We are very excited, to say the very least.  

Today's haiku is  dedicated to The Walking Dead, whose characters have become our friends, and we can't wait to pick up where their story left us. 

Where can you find us

Tomorrow night at nine sharp?

Glued to our tv.

Haiku to Husband (1)

My husband, among other things, is an English instructor at a community college. It's been about four years. He has three classes of approximately 25 students each. My husband enjoys his job teaching very much, spending time with students. He loves writing and loves talking and explaining the art of writing. And that is a very good thing when you are a teacher. 

The remarkable thing about my beloved and his success with teaching writing and all the nitty-gritty paperwork that goes with it is that he is doing this legally blind. A quick and easy way to explain his blindness is that he has obstacles in the middle of his field of vision and somehow he has to look around them. He can see. It's just that his vision is blocked by these blob-like forms. So, here is this guy reading 75 2-page journals a week and 300 3-5 page essays a semester. He constructs 2 quizzes a week, along with making 2 sets of lesson plans, going over the assigned readings for each class, and writing 3 notes each week to the students about what is due and what readings to read. And.....he's legally blind! Pretty impressive, don't you think?

So, today I'm finally writing a haiku for my husband, who works very hard on his craft and, works even harder trying to teach it. 

Bent over your desk,

Pouring over student's words--

Fruits of your labor

Haiku about Talking about Birds & Bees

About a week ago, my daughter asked "Dawn, how are babies made anyway?" I told her something about the mom and the dad get together and make the baby. "Oh, okay," and she bounces out the room. Next day's question: "Dawn, how do the mom and the dad make the baby anyway?" I answered that we would sit down later and talk about it. I explained we needed time because it's kinda complicated. And then I said, "Let's go to the bookstore!" I was going to need visuals and a guide. And we did, and she picked out three biographies and I picked out a great guide for 'our talk.'

Off and on now for a week or so my daughter and I discussed the differences in male and female anatomies, about sperm and eggs, and a lot about puberty and the process of ovulation. And we're only a fraction of the way through the book. It's slow moving with all her questions. I'm giving her time to process each lesson, and sure enough she comes back the next day with more questions. She is not embarrassed to ask, she speaks freely with no hesitation. And she is using the new words she learned. I'm enjoying our discussions and seeing her mind working.  It's a very bonding experience for us.

Today I write a haiku about teaching my little one about the birds and the bees, both of us wrapped up in our blankets sitting on the sofa and feeling cozy.

Feels so natural

Answering all her questions

About growing up.

Haiku about Bob Marley

People love Bob Marley and his music. I love the idea of Bob Marley, a man from humble  beginnings who reaches millions with his music and words. I read once that if you need inspiring, cheering up, or if you're angry, listen to Marley. Three Little Birds makes my good moods even better. No Woman No Cry comforts me. One Love inspires me to be a better person. Redemption Song helps find a peace within. And Jammin is ....well, it's a great song  that I like singing along to. I'm one of those people who love Bob Marley and his music. 

Today is Bob Marley's birthday and I researched him.  There is so much more to Bob Marley than spreading reggae around the world, and smoking weed. He was revolutionary and uniting. He stood for freedom, self-expression, peace, and more. He received a United Nations Peace Medal for his work toward justice and peace in Jamaica. Bob Marley died at 36. To be so young and to have left such a legacy. That is pretty cool.

Today my haiku is about Bob Marley, who would have been 64 today, if...

When Bob Marley sings

"Don't worry about a thing,"

It makes me feel good.

Haiku about My Blanket

My brother teases me from time to time about blankets. Here's how our phone call would go. "Hi. What are you doing?" "Nothing really. Just lying on the couch and watching tv." "Are you covered with a blanket?" he would ask and then he would laugh his laugh, like he was listening to the funniest man on earth. It's a tease that refers to him remembering me with a blanket all the time when we were growing up. Not like Linus from The Peanuts. The way he remembers it I would lie down and read or watch tv and I would always be covered with a blanket.  He says even in the middle of summer I would do this. I don't know how accurate it is, but I think it's kind of funny that he remembers it so, and that he finds it so amusing. I love my brother. 

The truth of the matter is that I do like a good blanket. My mom use to crochet lots of throws. The ones I like are the ones with the tighter stitch. The ones with the open stitches lets in the cold and so when you're using it, you're not entirely warm and comfy. There was one certain throw I really liked and I still have it. Actually, my daughter now has it. And, using her words, she "luuuuuuves it!" I now have a nice throw that my beloved gave me a couple of Christmases ago. It's gray/blue and creamy white. It has a peacock feather pattern. And it is just the right amount of soft. And guess what? I luuuuuuuuuuve it! I use it all the time. This morning I covered myself up with this great gift as I lay on the sofa to watch the morning news, and I realized, as I was snuggling, how comfortable I was. Then I thought, "Brother, if you could see me now, I think you would shake your head and laugh." And I smiled at the thought of him doing so.

My haiku is about my favorite blanket. Because, you know, a good blanket is one of life's little comforts.

Just cover me up

as I lie here. Yes. Perfect.

Snuggle. Snuggle. Snooze.

Haiku for a Girl I Use to Know

 I'm horrible at remembering people from my past by name. My sister would ask me, "Guess who I ran into the other day?" I would answer with the obligatory, "I don't know, who?" "Remember so-and-so?" Four out of five times, I would say I did not. And her response would be, "Of course you do, remember when...." and then she would remind me of something, and it's a fifty-fifty chance it helps me remember the person. My sister remembers just about everyone. I don't know why I cannot. Especially, high school. The person has to be someone I talked to a lot all through high school, or someone I liked very much, or someone who I despised. Yes, shamefully I admit I was a teen age girl who quietly "hated". I've changed--I grew up. 

 
The other day I read something that has been nagging me. I read an obituary of a woman who had graduated high school with me. I could not remember her by name, although her name did sound vaguely familiar.  I was sure if I make an emotional connection, the memory would come back. So today I took a peak in a high school year book. I looked at the little notes people wrote to me. I came to one was signed with her first name. "I'm glad I got to be your friend. Maybe I will see you this summer. See you then and good luck on exams."  Could this be her? Could I have known her? So, I went to the sophomore section, where we could be found. Found her name. Looked over and remembered her immediately. I liked her. She was nice and soft-spoken. And she had the blue-est eyes. 
Wow. I'm sad this girl is gone.

Today my haiku is to this girl, who I knew a lifetime ago. Simple words, but heartfelt.

I remember you.

I hope life was good to you

And you were happy.

Haiku for Pizza Delivery

I can come up with a bunch of reasons for not making a nice roast and potatoes dinner for my family's today. The truth of the matter is that I stayed up way to late last night. (Please see post about Me and Sleep). And I am tired! More than tired, I'm sleepy. The last thing I want to do is figure out dinner for five. All I want to do is crawl up on the couch with my favorite blanket, tv remote in hand, ghost story on the tube. Ahhhh. Heaven..... My family and I must have dinner, so I went on this hand dandy contraption and pushed some keys and clicked the mouse and look! My boyfriend Pete the Pizzamaker comes to my rescue!

"Yay!" my children cheer! My husband is happy, too, because he gets to order a pizza with his own toppings. And I don't have to do anything! We're even having it delivered so I don't have to go out and brush off the car to pick it up. "Yay!" I cheer! Everyone is looking forward to dinner! Our house is a very happy house.

Today's haiku is for pizza delivery! It makes my life a little easier once a week. 

Pizza Man is Here!

You're a sight for hungry eyes.

Keep the change!  And Thanks!

Haiku for Best Friends

When I was a kid, I had friends. They were the people I played with. A lot of them came from our neighborhood--a mixture of boys and girls. In junior high, I had a handful of friends I ate lunch with. In each class, I had one or two friends who I talked to before and after class. In high school friends were pretty much the same as middle school--several people at school, but almost none outside of school. There were some special people in my life. People whose families were close to mine and I love them and they were brothers and sisters to me. But, nonetheless, there was no "best friend" for me. Looking back, I feel as if I missed out on something special. Just a special person my age who belonged to me, my best friend.

Today my middle one is with his best friend. It's been almost five hours now and they've been learning and playing in the snow. First, they had a winter survival camp at a nature center. And now, they have built shelter in the snow piles down the street in a parking lot. (Parking lots have the BEST snow piles to play in, don't they?) They're still out there and the sun has set. Earlier when they stopped by the house to gather tools, I thought about childhood friendship and how I appreciate this one my child has. My boy, three years ago, came to us friendless and very bashful. He pretty much had no neighborhood friends where he was fostered. Any friends he had were at school. He didn't ever mention old friends of his from his other life. We believe he was very lonely. Fate has put this other boy in his life about two years ago. His best friend, this boy who loves to spend time with my son is a godsend. I don't know if he will ever know what a special gift he is to my middle one. He has filled a void so perfectly in my boy's life. He has helped him heal.

My haiku today is a thanksgiving to the gift of a best friend given to my son. 

Gratitude abound!

For a companion to join

him on adventures!

Haiku about Snow (1)

A garage, a garage! My kingdom for a garage. I am so sick and tired of brushing off our car! And it's the new one we all love, so it sounds almost blasphemous when I said, "I kinda miss our little Saturn."  Why won't all the snow simply fall and be over with? Then, I brush it off once for the day and that's it. No, it's falling slowly for most of the day for the past few days. Over and over, I've brushed off the car. At one point, I brushed off the car four times by ten o'clock in the morning. It's driving me bonkers. I have to admit, though, the gently falling snow that today brought was awful pretty. Gave me a warm Christmas feeling. But, I digress. I wish our house came with a garage. I can see it now. I open the garage door, and my eyes would feast upon our treasured Grand Caravan clear of snow waiting for me. I would  warm it up a bit, put it in reverse, push the garage door opener and, voila! I'm on my way. I would be a happy camper, not a grumbling grump.

As I was brushing off the car with one of my boys, today, we talked about that dream garage and where we could have it built. It is possible, he pointed out. This short discussion got me thinking. Maybe we could do it. Do I dare dream? Husband and I need to talk. . .

Here's a little haiku I wrote to share a bit of the mindless chatter that ran through my mind today, while performing this mindless task for the umpteenth time. 

Brush, brush, brush the car.

Thank goodness! No ice to scrape!

Brush, brush, brush the car.