this song gets me, good.

“Father and Daughter”

If you leap awake in the mirror of a bad dream
And for a fraction of a second you can't remember where you are
Just open your window and follow your memory upstream
To the meadow in the mountain where we counted every falling star

I believe a light that shines on you will shine on you forever
And though I can’t guarantee there’s nothing scary hiding under your bed
I'm gonna stand guard like a postcard of a Golden Retriever
And never leave ‘til I leave you with a sweet dream in your bed

I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loved his daughter more than I love you

Trust your intuition
It’s just like goin’ fishin’
You cast your line and hope you get a bite
But you don’t need to waste your time
Worryin’ about the market place
Try to help the human race
Struggling to survive its harshest night

I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
Who loved his daughter more than I love you

you can hear it here. if you're like me, get the kleenex box.
xo
-s

I’ve been studying and trying to understand the art of haiku. It’s the first time I’ve ever really studied and tried to learn any particular poetic form. I also love the redneck haiku I’ve seen on the ‘net – how can you not, especially if you’ve lived it? And it’s funny.
So. I’m trying to meet in the middle. Serious haiku, but coming from the heart – well, at least the liver - of the American South.

These four are called ‘Bulletin Board’

Dusk light, dogwood glow,
silk of shift from fourth to third,
tar to dirt, river road.


Beloved Gramaw
puts sliced ripe homegrown
tomatoes on the table.



Still dark – wake to coffee smell.
Men in kitchen laugh.
Soon, white-tail will fall.


Scent of wintergreen,
pine, Vap-o-rub, I sleep well.
I will wake to warmth.


“One may be the loneliest number, but it’s also the least likely to lead to homicide.”
Xo
-s

Today has been a good day, and yay, because yesterday kinda’ sucked like a Lousyana’ mosquito.
Today has been almost HOT - the sun has shone all day. The Bradford pears are shedding their blooms and so the street outside the library window looks like one of my beloved Chinese films… I keep expecting Jet to come strolling along, queue and robes fluttering in the breeze…
… … … *sighhhhhhh* :)

Although our computers were down and the kids were out of school, that particular combination kept the kids out in the pleasantly fragrant air (where I DANG sure would be if I was 13 and out for Spring break!). And the weather was so pretty that all of the adult patrons who came in to use the ‘net seemed ok with the fact that it wasn’t working.
My back is hurting today for some reason – I think the home- and “Newsweek Special Report” stress is playing a big part in that… but all I can do with that is be patient and pray. Oh, and of course, do my back stretches.

I hope that all of you get some loveliness and warmth in your world today – and in the days to come. I hope that the people who were shown and listed in the Newsweek Special Report are able to have some again someday. For those who will never see another day like this here on earth - and that list was the longest - I hope that their families are able to feel the sun and watch the blossoms glitter on the breeze and feel some comfort come to their shattered hearts. Some day.
And most of all, I hope and pray that this comes to an end, soon, soon, so that we can all begin to get to this place. I see the realization dawning on the faces of the men who made this decision, they are beginning to see the horrible cost, to see how rash they were – and my anger turns to deep sadness. I can only hope that this is what they are feeling, too.

Wishing you blossoms and visions of peace.
-s

I’ve realized a few important things today:

• My biological parents have a LOT of explaining and apologizing to do if we ever meet again.
• There is a common denominator among holy men, peace-seekers, hermits, monks, priests, wise men, those little old guys who meditate on mountain tops in loin cloths, the guys who take vows of silence and live in monasteries and Lost Cities*... they are all avoiding PEOPLE.
• I really do have some sort of mental block or failure when it comes to certain topics of discussion. It’s not that I don’t hear or TRY to understand these words, but that they actually cause my brain to short-circuit so that I am unable to.** For example – Wendi attempted to say “Equity” and “Escrow” to me in conversation… it stopped hurting when she figure out to say “some of my money” and “hold it back for me to cover the cost of…” Poor Unky – who just doesn’t KNOW this about me unwittingly sent me a copy of this stunner***(regarding the CROSSOVER that we’re doing) today. Behold:

“Hi Stewart. Sorry to bug you about this, but the file is coming through as a .hqx. I'm on a PC. Can you make sure it's saved with the .psd file extension or save it as a maximum quality jpg?
Thanks a lot. Marc”

Eek. I’m feeling better. I can see out of one eye completely now.
Hang in there, folks.
Xo
-s


*OTHER than the fact that they all appear to be MALE.
**they have strange roots.
***that makes TWO stunner e-mails that I’ve gotten today. The first one was basically BSE**** via digital correspondence, unky’s was just like thinking you were gulping water and gunning a pint of tequila…
****”Mad Cow Disease.

Well, you'll be happy to know* that i met some of my blue-meanies head on today. I actually drove to The City today and met the Internal Revenue Service on their own turf. It was actually a big help. I felt really bad for the security guards, they are reduced (or re-enforced) to having to basically make every person who comes in pee in a cup and swear allegiance to the flag. i could tell that they were stressed. Going to their offices actually helps. Seeing REAL people - not a voice** on a phone after a 15 minute hold. I'd expected to be there all day, took my art box and a notebook. The number i pulled was '80', the sign said "now serving #77". Niiice. There were a lot of Mexican folks there. i began a caricature of a nino muy bonito y dulce. I had only sketched in the top lip when they called '80'. I was so stunned that I didn't even really register that they'd called. The VERY nice-looking (behatted AND be-mulleted, y'all - woo-ee! ;) uncle of my subject had to ask me ¡80?¡¨ - d'oh! The family of the child waited until I¡¦d gotten my assistance under way (five minutes maybe?) even though they were finished and could leave. While I waited for the lady behind the counter to type in my info, I finished the sketch. ¡§Tio Buenito¡¨ held the baby so that I could look at him while I drew.
The IRS lady who helped me did everything for me, asked for my license and social security card***, asked if I had w2's and proper forms***; so I ended up standing there and sketching a very pretty brown-eyed boy while this lady filed my last years' and this years' taxes in about ten minutes, for free.
Admittedly, that was just the preliminary round. I still have to go a full quarter with them on a BIG SCALE before the week is out, probably tomorrow. I just had to have my returns filed so that I could try to take care of the Big Issue. Wish me luck.

I still have dragoons and blue meanies to face, but the governmental/$$$ issue is a big, and super-unfortunately important one. And I have them to thank for one other thing ¡V they let me know that my ex-husband is about to have or has recently had another child. Thanks guys, ¡¥Preciatcha.

What fueled this fire? Whoever of you said this prayer for me, thank you. My oldest
brother called me late last night (midnightish) and talked to me for almost 3 hours. I was so happy that he felt like he could talk to me the way I usually talk to him, for a change. For those of you who know me, who know what this means to me, what I've been going through lately, I hope you feel a little less heavy today, as I certainly do.

Hang in there folks, and DON'T watch 'Signs¨.
Xo
-s

*i damn sure am.
**an inevitably yankee voice, for some reason.
***of which I had BOTH! ¡Vtouch ME!