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24 years ago today my angel Natalia made her appearance in this world...she only lived here for 29 days but what I would give to just have one of those days back...like when Tabitha her big sister all of 18 months old held her for the longest time on the ratty red velvet chair and they both smiled...sigh...Happy birthday Natalia Tatianna...you are dearly missed!
Prednisone dreams
Weird assed dream 1
me dragging a rusty wagon containing a headstone, a misshapen pumpkin, a tortoise sprawled on the headstone and 4 assorted bricks up a precarious eastern European road (guessing here) with faceless tall buildings on both sides...dismal sun free day, I almost get to the top when a looming dirty red tandem semi starts coming down the same road...seems to take forever for us to maneuver around each other. When I get to the top there is nothing, just flat barren treeless dead grass land... I look behind me more nothing, just me and my wagon of oppressive weight...my rusty wagon never squeaked. I woke up with a backache...
my cluttered mind
So much to do. So much left to contemplate. Most of which is on the QT…so I can't really splash it all over the headlines at the moment. Let's just say my address will be changing…for the better.
I'd really like to sit at the sewing machine and finish the pile of diapers sitting there, or better yet do the top stitching on the stack of receiving blankets. But I don't. I look at the sewing table a mere 6 feet or so from my chair with the piles of flannel and cotton beseeching me to sew and I can't make myself cross those 6 feet to just do it. I know once I sit over there I can accomplish the lot of it in a few hours, then I can throw the
a little cheese needed for my whine
Jim's surgery is in 4 days…4 entire days…96 hours give or take…I am so stressed…scared…unhappy…weirdly lonely…terrified…but I don't get to show it…oh I get to cry in the shower since I'm basically alone…Shamus is usually on the heat vent but he doesn't tell on me for not being strong…I am a wimp…this whole strength thing is a very weak opaque façade…I am an emotional pile of whiny goo…I feel like crying in the car, at work, in the waiting rooms…every where it seems some creepy mean little thought will enter my head all coated in failure and alone forever and the tears will fill my eyes…deep breath…look up…nope those tears are still there thre
Ask My Mom How She Is
My Mom, she tells a lot of lies,
She never did before.
But from now until she dies,
She'll tell a whole lot more.
Ask my Mom how she is
And because she can't explain,
She will tell a little lie
Because she can't describe the pain.
Ask my Mom how she is,
She'll say "I'm alright."
If that's the truth, then tell me,
why does she cry each night?
Ask my Mom how she is,
She seems to cope so well.
She didn't have a choice you see,
Nor the strength to yell.
Ask my Mom how she is,
"I'm fine, I'm well, I'm coping."
For God's sake Mom, just tell the truth,
Just say your heart is broken.
She'll love me all her life,
I loved her all o
© 2013 - 2024 wiccanwitchiepoo
Comments4
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Awww, this made my heart ache ... sending you some love.