1. The colourful hat I have on my head. It was left here by my third daughter, who had borrowed it from my first daughter. My first daughter is in long-term rehab and I miss her. Wearing her hat warms my head and my heart with thoughts of her.
2. Tears that are flowing from my eyes while I write, to help wash out a smidgen of the pain I have been enduring of late.
3. Having heard from a friend with whom I had once thought I had lost touch forever, but from whom I now occasionally hear, and he even subscribed to my blog. (Hola, Señor Heelez).
4. The sip of Zevia ginger rootbeer that was just brought to me by my eight-year-old son. He said, “Here’s some fresh Zevia that I just opened. It’s fresh.”
5. The smell of lentils and barley cooking in the kitchen, to which I am about to add carrots, onions, garlic, celery, and chopped ham.
And an extra mention of gratitutde to the blogger at Inspirationenergy, who inadvertently prompted me to write this — Inspirationenergy’s Gratitude Page.
For more gratitutdes, check out: my Gratitudes category.
I wish I could sit on the couch every day for an hour in the evening and have hug time with my kids.
Not getting up to do anything.
Just hug ’em and hug ’em and hug ’em, and officially call it “Hug Time”.
So many are half-breeds or quarter-breeds or other more dilute breeds. My dad is Serbian and my mom is as Canadian as they get, but what is Canadian? So much mixture in that, too.
Having grown up as a blonde haired, blue eyed girl with a Serbian surname that ignorami (my plural of ignoramus) loved to mispronounce, I was the target of bullying.
Really, though, there is nothing wrong with that mix, or with any other mix, in my opinion.
The bullies of the world will always find their lame reasons for bullying.
Dogs will be dogs.
(My comment on the blog of HarsH ReaLiTy)
For several weeks, due to various circumstances, I had been in a deep, dark depression, which started to lift a few days ago.
I am not sure what caused it to lift.
It could have been because of the prayers of friends.
It could have been because of the remedy given to me by my homeopath on January 18 starting to work.
It could be the various supplements from my naturopath, which I started on January 11, to get me on the road to healing from adrenal burnout, kicking in.
It could have been because of answers to unspoken questions in my tormented heart finally being answered from within the confines of silence.
It could be a combination of all of the above, or it could be something I haven’t even guessed.
Up until a few days ago, I didn’t care if I lived.
Now, however, I feel like I want to get better.
I am not sure how far this seed of hope will grow, but for now, I am grateful it is growing.
This video is from May or June of 2011. I hope I can someday be that happy on a regular basis.
I miss my oldest daughter.
My heart breaks for her. She has been through so much. She is in long-term rehab again – for a program that takes two to five years to complete, depending on the student.
Last time she was in for 11-1/2 months in a different place, and was clean for over two years.
Heroin got a hold of her.
I hate addictions.
She and I have similar musical tastes, from Mozart to Led Zeppelin to jamming in our imperfect way on our guitars to any song that comes to mind, and back again.
She introduced me to the music of Radiohead.
Finishing up my invoicing for work tonight, I was listening to “Creep” on my headset, and missing my firstborn child so much.
(Photo from 2010 – my oldest daughter when she was 18, my youngest daughter when she was 18 months old, and me.)
I recently got my first PhotoShop program – Elements 11. Lots of new stuff to learn, and little time to do it.
Here is my first attempt at making a poster combining text and a photo.
I conceived this idea a few weeks ago, before I found out I’ve got adrenal fatigue. As soon as I found out, I quit caffeine cold turkey, desperately wanting to heal up, and knowing that caffeine only makes matters worse, so the part about drinking coffee will just have to be figurative, or else water can be substituted.
So, what do you think?
Typing on a new (to me) blog host feels like I’m moving to a new house.
It’s got most of the usual fixtures, but they look different, and are in different locations than at my old “place”.
It looks so new and clean in here!
Hey, Real Estate Agent, how much are they askin’ for this place?
Cam’aaaahn, nothing’s free.
Mmm-hmm, we shall see just how free this ends up being.
And you, the reader, will please keep in mind that anything you read on the internet is subject to interpretation and is not necessarily truth.
OK, I’m just being silly.
But, most importantly, hvala lepa!
Hi. Steeny Lou here.
I’m just picking around in here, getting familiar with WordPress, in my attempt to move.
My old blog will still remain where it sits, at Google’s Blogger, but I am going to try to make this be the spot for any new content.
It’s a more interactive site here, compared to Blogger. Maybe if Blogger makes changes someday, I will go back, so I want to keep the option open.
AKA: "My Diary Screaming Out Loud" -- by a silly, sometimes serious, slightly sane, semi-Serbian, Canadian Squirrel.
My impressions, feelings, experience and knowledge about photography.
Tea is a journey. This is my travelogue.
The latest breaking agency news...and miscellaneous random thoughts.
Words which will fall into your Heart, once they reach your Brain
Photographing New Zealand and telling the world about it
A journey to healing from complex trauma.
Setting you free logically through contextual interpretations.
My own personal art therapy journal
thoughts scribbled down and shared
holistic wellness & nutrition
Some say I was born high. Others say i'm just simple :)
Observations on language, literature, and other interesting phenomena
An archaeologist finds herself writing fiction — what stories will she unearth?
About Writing and Editing
Adventures from Denver
Getting SuperBetter from the Trauma of Domestic Violence
An Irishman's blog about the English language.
Official Writing Tips, Inspiration and Hacks
creative writing is a powerful kind of listening
Teaching the basic skills you never learned or some you may have forgotten.