Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Thriving Kernels

Scary at first,
Being small and alone,
Not knowing which way to grow,
where to turn....

Sometimes it was hot,
A toasty burn--
then wind brought
laughing rain--
tempting death,
swirling rings of the insane.
Then blinding
heavy snow made me sag.
And though young
I felt like a hag.

The hostile came
stomping my heart,
they didn’t care
if I fell apart.

But I had hope,
An innate survival mechanism
helped me cope.
Something deeper kept me alive

and a seedling of faith
made me survive.

Poem and primitive illustrations by Eve Gaal

May you always thrive!

Friday, June 26, 2015

Necessity is the Mother of Invention-(A Craft idea) and Ducks!

Ongoing Craft Idea

You’ll need one white tee shirt
Inexpensive fabric paint from the craft store or acrylic paints.

The first time I wore my white, long-sleeved tee, a splash of spaghetti sauce ruined it forever. I threw it into the back of the closet and took it out to paint my guest room and wore it to clean out the garage. Then one day after pulling the disgusting looking tee out of the dryer, I had an epiphany about doodling all over it with fabric paint. After adding some primitive folk-art style with the fabric paint, I even added some beading around the neckline. It didn’t look designer new or anything like that but the sauce and paint stains had magically disappeared. Sometimes I wear it out of the house to the lumber store and garden center where I even received a compliment! That was five years ago and the shirt is a sort of a work in progress. Of course, aren’t we all? Two days ago, I spilled gelato all over the worn top but I’m looking forward to adding pink hearts onto my sleeves.  Spots? What spots?

Go to town doodling anything over your spots with fabric paint.

Summer Ducks

The cutest little bundles of joy decided to hatch under our mesquite tree this week.  Seven little ones and a gold colored mama duck were having a great time splashing around in the pool and looking for bugs. We had noticed the lonely mother duck swimming around every night by herself for a month. I remember the romantic date she had with the handsome mallard that dumped her and left her at our house. Jerk! She cried her heart out for days! Once a lonely girl—now she has seven little ones who need her constant attention! It was truly an overload of absolute adorableness watching them waddle, as they followed their mother around our lawn.
I took the photo from an upstairs window.
 This was the first day we saw them, which was June 22.

After three days however, the mother duck wanted to move along and everyone slipped under a hole in the fence and disappeared. There is a creek less than a quarter mile away and a lake about two miles away, so we're hoping they've safely found their way to a forever home. Do you think they'll come back?

Thanks for visiting my blog! 

Saturday, June 20, 2015

It's Never Too Late for Love

To the dad not paying child support-
You might think it’s cool now
but some day,
maybe twenty years from now
when the respirator is acting up--
you'll want to explain why....
Can someone listen to your excuse?
You try ringing for the nurse--
but it’s midnight and she’s helping
another patient behind a curtain with a bed pan....

To the person who shoots innocent people--
Maybe you’ve lost your mind or took drugs
but think about twenty,  thirty, maybe fifty years from now
When you walk out of the cell looking for someone to talk to
and no one is waiting.
Disconnected phones-
lost addresses-
where to go?
Nothing but parole officers and salespeople asking you to sign things
promising you won’t go far-- 
while they ask for your last dollar.

To those who poke fun and tease the weak,
Bullies who think they’re better,
Wise, hip and fashionable
while looking down their nose,
lifting arrogant heads,
disgusted with what they call ignorance.
Selfish and repulsive narcissistic individuals who hate-- 
and have no time--
believe in nothing--
And laugh at others who do.
Maybe someday--
God willing--
Twenty years from now
While standing in line at the pharmacy,
Or while thinking about who to invite--
for the A list is short--
perhaps someday...
they'll find a change of heart. 

To thieves, prostitutes and the rest of those waiting for hell---
 (you think that's a place of legends and fairy-tales but...
time creates change--)
Why wait?
There are options.

It’s never too late.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Prayer of Gratitude

Yesterday during some very dark times, my heart was beating and feeling like it was going to fall out of my chest. The issue in front of me was bleak and I kept reminding myself that God never gives us more than we can handle. In fact, this was one of those moments where I absolutely was afraid I couldn’t handle it. My head hurt and there was a knot in my stomach. It’s not over and the situation might continue to be horrible but the severest part is now apparent. I have also placed all of my anxiety into God’s hands. I simply can’t handle it. Not that I didn’t try and don’t continue to counsel and assist but when things are tough it’s easier to: 1. Lie down and cry. 2. Imbibe in giant frosted cakes or 3. Go drinking (not an option I would choose but it sounds kind of cool since I’m a writer.) but this time I prayed and prayed and gave all of it away. 

Hours passed and I took my dog Pinky for a walk. During the walk, a friend called and calmly talked me through so much, even offering to help. Today, I know things will work out and though there are more tough times ahead, I also know God strengthens me on a daily basis. Thank you for watching me and sending legions of angels to help me. Thank you for protecting my heart and giving me health and security. Thank you ahead of time for helping with this and other serious problems. This is a tough summer and I am thankful, always. 

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Mignons or Minions? Naughty or Nice?


When we were kids and mom took us to a bakery, they had these small pastries called mignons. (Pronounced just like the Despicable Me characters, only tastier.) Today they have assorted petit fours, cupcakes and cannoli’s but the variety is limited. These are not cookies or rugalach but dainty little creations decorated with fruit, infused with rum or filled with layers of vanilla, chocolate or coffee cream. Not just any cream but almond cream, hazelnut puree, tart lemon curd or scrumptious custard. Sometimes frosted or glazed, topped with chopped walnuts or sprinkles—these irresistible confections made your mouth water just looking at them and the hardest part was picking out your favorite while the lady behind the counter smiled at your mother. There was always a line and you had to hurry. If I took too long, then mom would say, “Oh these right here in the front are fine. Aren’t they dear?” And of course, they were more than fine. Still, it was fun to select my own because these were not everyday luxuries. Oh no. Buying mignons corresponded with my father’s promotion or perhaps a visit from a distant relative. Choosing the right ones was a serious task because this was a rare occasion. Once home, we unwrapped the days purchases and there on our humble, green-tiled kitchen counter sat the glorious pink box tied with string. Nestled inside on fluted, white paper cups were small pieces of heaven waiting to create a delectable memory. There was absolutely nothing naughty about them....

Those delicious creations were nothing like these cheeky new movie-star minions.
Strange that they are yellow and naughty like my very own personal, four-legged minions but I  also noticed these adorable characters don't have ears. And so the connection might end there, except for the constant evil scheming.... 

My rascal-faced minions look like this: 
Pinky and Fiona
Notice the decimated skunk toy under the roguish paws? How about the princess pose, beady eyes and yellow-hued fur? Yup, just as mischievous...and perhaps receiving incoming signals while plotting world domination. Do you see the ears? I am wrapped in their spell and can't get away. What should I do? I need mignons and I need them now!

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Dare to Ask-A poem

"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.-Matthew-7:7

Dare to ask.
He’s busy but listening.
Go ahead and do it.
Don’t worry about kneeling
He knows what’s in your heart.
He knows what you want--
your humble request.
When you ask,
you confirm
wishes and hidden desires.
Possibly uncovering dreams,
 goals and potentialities.
The process of asking clarifies things--
not for Him--
but for you.
Don’t beg.
Some things take time.
His time.
Are you sure,
it’s what you want?
Then ask,
and receive.

This poem needed to be written because I knew someone who died without ever experiencing love. This person didn’t have a regular paying job and always wanted children but felt shy meeting girls. He was a good person who committed his life to helping his aging parents as a caregiver and live-in handyman.  This person dreamed of so many things that never came true. I remember telling him to ask God for help and he told me he didn’t want to waste God’s time. As a very humble and insecure person, he thought God was too busy to listen to his problems. If there’s one thing, I’m confident about, it’s the fact that He listens. If you know anyone who is struggling, please remind him or her to ask...before it’s too late.