I am a seasoned hospitality professional and aspiring writer. I especially love poetry and experimenting with different styles. My inspiration comes from personal life events and I am known to root for the "underdog." I am 49 years young.
An Anti-Love Playlist for the Single Ladies
Ladies, raise your hand if you are single! I know it can feel very lonely at times and there are days when you probably think to yourself how nice it would be to have someone by your side. February 14th is the cruel reminder that none of us (Yes I am a member of your tribe) need denoting our solo status. Instead of jamming up in the holiday hype, I thought it would be interesting perhaps even fun to explore a different approach to Valentine’s Day.
Guilty As Charged: Confessions of a Chicago PD Binger
I am not ashamed to admit that I love watching Chicago PD. When I began viewing the series it had been airing already for a few years so I wanted to go back and catch up. A couple of weeks ago I was checking out Peacock, a free streaming app, and was pleasantly surprised to find every episode available going back to day one. I have been binge watching about 3 episodes daily and am proud to call Chicago PD my guilty sometimes cringe worthy pleasure.
A One Legged Cat Suit Has No Home in My Closet
There has certainly been a lot of interesting fashion trends over the years. Some statements seem to keep recycling through the decades like those who are mad for plaid or the hippie tie dye trend. I can tolerate those in small doses and personally have indulged. Other fads like Uggs which I cannot stand and have never owned, and the low sagging pants with half the derriere exposed get no love from me. Overall, the cringe worthy fringe seen on everything from purses to clothing articles is just about the worse thing I have ever seen, second only to the one legged cat suit.
My Post Splenectomy Wellness Guide
Do you know that there are an estimated 1 million people living in the United States today that are hypo splenic (have a low functioning spleen) or are asplenic (without a functioning spleen)? I am one of those people as I had a complete splenectomy performed on February 03, 2020. This has been a difficult transition for me and as I approach the one year mark of living life without an organ while not considered essential poses some serious risks and complications in its absence. With a combination of personal research and guidance by my primary care physician and hematologist I have come up with my own particular wellness guide. Kicking off 2021, I am much more conscious of my overall health. I share my information not as a medical professional but as a patient speaking from experience. Before I talk about my approach to maintaining optimal health, I will cover the splenic basics.
The Oddest Synchronicity
Life is full of hidden gems waiting for us to uncover. Too often we overlook the importance of what is right in front of us digging deeper and deeper for a complicated explanation, assuming of course, that everything in this world is just that; complex. Perhaps we humans do things a bit backwards. Maybe just maybe the answers to some of our most pressing questions have a much simpler resolve lying in nature, numbers, music; subtle signs of guidance. I recall with such fondness the memories of my childhood during a time when I was struggling to find my place. Not a single detail escapes me in recollection as my story truly is of the oddest synchronicity My tale takes me back to the beginning of sixth grade. I was eleven years old and anxiously waiting my final year at Lusby Elementary School. My summer break was a bit lonely as my two very nearest and dearest friends; Miranda and Kelly, had gone away to soccer camp and this was the first summer without my besties. The three of us had been thick as thieves since Kindergarten enjoying so many activities especially outdoors in the seasonable state of Maryland. We rode our bicycles for hours, built elaborate forts and sought to catch butterflies on sunny afternoons in one of the many open fields home to Lusby. We had known one another so long and were so close that we often would complete each other’s sentences. We shared the same love of dolls and enjoyed many rainy days playing with my larger than life dollhouse. Oh, how coordinated we were just like synchronized swimmers moving beautifully together. Much to my surprise the return of the new school year and reunion with my best friends was everything except parallel. Miranda and Kelly came back taller, about an inch each, and more developed looking older than our eleven years. One summer away with Miranda’s thirteen year old sister, Michelle, and a camp full of young teenage girls changed my friends. All of a sudden the common ground the three of us had shared for the past six years was no more. Dolls were outdated and deemed for “babies”. The long bike rides exploring Lusby were replaced with shopping mall visits in the next county over on weekends. I tried to give it a go but the truth is that I was not interested in doing laps around the mall or hanging out at the arcade which now was the “cool” thing to do. And what was “cool” supposed to mean anyway? I was eleven. I did not care about talking about boys or clothes or getting ready for junior high next year like Miranda and Kelly did. I wanted to remain a little girl for as long as I could possibly be one. One amazing constant I had in my life despite my struggles was music. For just over a year I had been taking flute lessons from my Nanna. Nanna a retired music teacher and gifted flautist, moved in with Mother and I when I was four shortly after the divorce was finalized from my father. Mother, also a teacher, taught math at the junior high school. She had quite the knack for gardening and could bake the finest apple pies in all of Lusby. Indeed, I was fortunate to receive upbringing from two intelligent high spirited women and I knew from a young age that I would follow their example and teach one day. My ultimate goal was to be an expert flautist just like my Nanna and teach music to children. Although I remained friendly with both of the girls, we did eventually go our separate ways. I embraced other friendships but none of them had quite the same connection or closeness. I felt like part of me was lost somewhere. Mother and Nanna were supportive of me and explained to me that life is always changing. They told me that I would change too, in fact they said I would encounter many periods of development in my lifetime. They said the key was learning to go with the natural flow in life and to never rush myself. Specifically, Nanna told me that through music I would learn to quiet the mind of all the internal conflicts and one day find my unique inner voice. She said this inner voice would never steer me wrong. As the school year moved along, I tightened my skills with my metal flute Nanna gifted me on my tenth birthday. My scales were coming along and she said my days of a beginner were nearing an end. For Christmas she gave me a beautiful Native American flute, also known as a courting flute. I wanted so badly to play just like Nanna but she reminded me to have patience and that the flute was the hardest of all musical instruments to master. The flute requires strong core control and excellent breathing techniques that in due time would come to me. A few days after Christmas, December 28th to be exact, I took some advice from Nanna and decided to practice my flute skills outdoors. She said that being out in nature may help me in ways that she could never teach me. I was unsure as to what exactly she meant but agreed. This particular winter season was unseasonably warmer than usual as if Mother Nature was personally extending her hand in invitation to come along. I chose the abandoned house adjacent to ours as a spot to play. It had been empty for just over a year without any prospective buyers. It was a small two story white home ideal for a first time buyer or perhaps a small family. I especially loved the old white oak tree that hung over the front. It gave the place character and was a perfect refuge for shade on a hot summer’s day.
All That is Hidden
Some secrets are better left unrecovered Dare, if you will, to reveal all that is hidden reach out in your dreams to find her
Why My Red Fleece Blanket Completes My Cozy Corner
I live in an apartment in Central New York with my two youngest children. It is a decent sized space but we have accumulated a lot of stuff since moving in three years ago. Although my apartment is tidy I feel crowded at times as roaming room has become limited with the addition of new furniture. I have a computer/ desk work area set up in the living room for writing but sometimes this just does not work for me. Sometimes I just want to retreat into my own little world and that little world is my bedroom. Although a tight dwelling, it is my very own corner; my escape. A red fleece blanket gifted to me by my Mum and Dad at Christmas has put the final touches on an area I often refer to as the “other realm”.
Do Not Be One Passerby
Curbside a homeless man huddles under an old tarp Blowing into a harmonica, I recognize the Hollie’s song His lips pursed, focused only on his music, blocking out