Tag! It’s a tagline!: Day In & Day Out

Boiling down to a few words or a sentence or two is really hard! I took the tagline I already use on my blog and enhanced it.

Thought a photo or two would make you all go ooo! and aaah!! or maybe just say What the Hell?? I’m hoping for ooo and aaah but if it’s somewhere in between so I don’t worry that you think I’ve completely lost my mind I’ll be satisfied.

At any rate, enjoy. Or not. Or just scratch you head and wonder.


Day In and Day Out


This post was inspired by the crew over at WriteOn Edge and the RemembeRED prompt this week.

We’re doing something short and sweet for this week’s RemembeRED post.Imagine your life, or a part of your life, as a title and tagline.That’s it. Give us the title, and give us the tagline.We’re looking forward to seeing your life distilled to a few catchy, perfect words.

Write on Edge: RemembeRED

A Brief Moment of Balance

The weekend I turned 29 for the 21st time was filled with apprehension for what lay ahead, dread of the slow down hill slide into “old age”, and sadness and over the years of my youth both wasted and fulfilled. It ended with surprise, happiness and hope.

My "Pumpkin"

Captain, My Captain, had whisked me away to Denver for a weekend to ourselves and to buy a new car, and do what I wanted to do. I was so excited to get my new unique (to our town anyway) 2010 VW Beetle in a limited edition color – Red Rocks Orange.


We went to the Botanical Gardens and the Art Museum. It was heaven! In a wonderful Irish bar, with good food and (of course) good beer, I was caught unware when My Captain took this picture. It captures me in that moment perfectly. Nostalgic, wistful, calm and content.

Thoughts on The Future

Thoughts on The Future

It was all a ruse to get me away while the missing pack members came home and prepared the mother of all surprises. Walking into the house when we got home the surprised paid off for them in spades because they got the full on shocked Mom look followed by the inevitable ugly cry when I saw all four of my kids, the pack and Blossom in my livingroom.

I’d like to believe my faraway, dreamy repose was the deep breath needed to push me forward. At least in that moment, for that time. I still find myself longing for my youth and worrying about the future and wish I could find a balance. Writing helps and seeing this picture as my blog image reminds me. On that day in late May, I had a brief moment of balance.


This post was written when Write On Edge asked us write about a photo of ourselves for RemembeRED.

This week, I’m asking you to take us into the moment your favorite photograph of yourself was taken, to show us who you were then and what the photograph means–in 300 words.

Downy Edges

Bold, commanding and seemingly big as a redwood, towering over all. Chiseled in squares and triangles with strength like Hercules. The core, a downy soft nest, surprising because it contrasts so completely.  The angles and edges contain a stalwart, reliable and sure like a rainbow after a rainstorm but carefree like puddle splashing. Contemplated, voids are found shaped to hold another safe and warm.Time has decreased the sharpness and rounded the corners like wind carving a cliff. The flowing smoothness matches the tender fluffy within but the sureness and strength of the angles always remain.


I took this prompt VERY seriously (probably too much so; that’s just how I am)  and made sure I didn’t give away if the description is person, place or thing. After posting, I decided to add a scroll down for the answer. If you want to guess without seeing, post your comment before peeking.

This week WriteOnEdge’s Galit asked you to conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season- whatever you like.

But don’t tell us what it is, conjure it. In 100 words.

Who do YOU think I “conjured” ? Leave your guess in a comment.



















What am I writing about?                                                                                                             My strong, loving and fun Dad. He’s my rock and my soft place to fall.








Pomp and Trumpets

How many times have I heard this song? How many times have I played it? This time there’s the satisfaction, I am the one marching and NOT playing the song until my fingers are stiff as grampa’s collar, and lips are buzzy and numb.

Daa, da da da daa daaaa! I look to the band pit smugly thinking “ha ha!” (like the Simpsons “Cartman”) Poor suckers! How many times are you doomed to play and listen to this song?

I stride to my seat grinning gleefully at two friends who also endured endlessness “Pomp and Circumstance.” Never more! The glances reveal a mirth and deep need to break into uncontrolled dance, but we maintain restrained.

The march winds down, the MC smiles, lifts his hands heavenward and introduces our class to the audience whose pride overflows like tight jeans holding up a muffin top. Families are giddy with gratification, relief or both.  Their kid has reached the summit of life thus far. As the applause dwindles toward near silence he says, “Please be seated.”

Carefully smoothing my robe, I take my seat, a smile still squishes my face. Drawing a deep breath I am smacked with the realization. My thoughts race through rapids and channels as I understand this is the last time I will hear the march. This time it’s for me.

The speeches are filled with conviction that mere children may know what lies ahead. In reality they are clueless to the reality that nothing will be as it’s envision or believed. The time in between is smudged and blurred, indistinguishable accept for the churning worry I may trip while receiving my diploma.

I awake as Trumpet Voluntary begins to blast and mortar board rain down and I rush to escape to the future that awaits.


This post was written thanks to the RemembeRED “prompt” at the red dress club:

This week we asked you to think about graduation. It didn’t have to be yours and it didn’t have to be high school. It does have to be non-fiction – it’s memoir.