into an eternal Spring

WITH THAT MOON LANGUAGE




Admit something:



Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me.”



Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise
someone would call the cops.



Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect.



Why not become the one who lives with a
full moon in each eye that is
always saying,

with that sweet moon language,
what every other eye in
this world is
dying to
hear?
By: Sri Chinmoy

Good morning. I just had to bring that verse to your attention. How beautiful! "Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye..."
Why not?! I came across Sri Chinmoy's writings only recently, how they have moved me from February, from winter- into an eternal Spring. I stumbled upon Poet Seers and became immediately, immensely immersed. Stumble Upon is a new search engine(perhaps it's not so new...but it is new to me.) I recommend it. The websites are an alternative to the landscaped sites elsewhere...just my opinion. Folks travel around the web, and share to their liking more than quirky stuff. Satire, humor, counter culture- it's interesting to the point of all engulfing one's time. I stumbled in by looking up Dignity Village- a homeless community outside Portland, Oregon. That is another story all together- but such stories make up for the emptiness sometimes of the web. As you travel through their pages, you can thumbs up or thumbs down, sometimes navigating through sites that have not been recommended yet, you then are asked for a review. Others with interests similar to your own can then see where you've been, why you went- why on earth you'd encourage others to participate. Pretty cool for a hayseed like me, a hippy kind of tech chick. Yep. I sure say yep alot, how improper English is that?! I could never be a writer, a love child of critics...they'd pick me apart! And that's ok, I certainly do not write for anyone in particular, just grazing through my own experiences and trying to be relative to some. Ahhhh- the connections. That "sweet moon language"...again, isn't that a beautiful thought? Hopeful romantic signing off here- hope the wind blows some bliss your way today. Take care-

Barely True

City Recreation Center 107 North Main Street Sweetwater , TN 37874 Review: A highly recommended experience. The hamburgers, made personally by the owner John, cannot be beat in the north south east or west. The characters that inhabit the house are beyond the common man. Characters with character each and everyone. Pool tables in back are ancient and in line-if you stink in your shots, well, you probably should take up golf. The atmosphere is one of friendships, past present and future meetings of the kindred sorts that mix, that are drawn to such places-subjective. I'd encourage anyone inclined to wander-take your best line of B.S, hold it up against the lot-you may qualify to sit at the "TABLE", a holy place indeed. And cheers all around there, whether it's O'Douls or Budweiser-father John will take you in, wrap you up in the spirit of that place, and adopt you as one of his own. "Some of the best families were not raised under the same roof" that quote living large and quietly in City Rec Bar and Grill-Sweetwater, Tennessee. Go. Much to gain.

Above there...you'd think I said all I had to say about the place, the City Rec. Nope, not by a long shot-which my whole trip was. I did not know a single person when I arrived. When I left, I had made more friends than I could shake a stick at, and at some of them...I did! A big ole' double edged stick on my belt-a USMC utility that spoke for itself at times. Walk softly and carry a big knife, that's my motto when walking in the woods of foreign places and sometimes nearer ones. Anyway, the men there at the rec, and I use that term tightly-were humorously impressed with my sidekick. See-my cabin lost it's electricity and heat so I had no where to go...a gardening buddy Ronnie and his best pal Linda had said earlier "you got to go to John's City Rec, especially if you like to play pool." What better time to go somewhere warm and inviting-when you haven't bathed, your hair is matted on one side and well you're a bit foggy from the previous evening's adventure. So-off I headed towards Sweetwater, not knowing what lay in store for me-'cept maybe a good hamburger and pool if my head would eventually quit banging to the beat of too many Coors lights(3-4), I cannot drink beer to save my soul, it does not agree with me and makes me giggle-alot. So, I walk in, no sashaying for me-'cause I must have looked a little homeless, little did I know I had found a new one.
My buddy Ronnie was there, eating a burger-he introduced me right away. "This is the girl I was telling you all about...." Yikes! What the hell did that mean?! It meant that the man thought enough of me to make sure I was included, welcomed right away. Mr. John put his arm around my shoulder and swept me off to THE table. Lordy, lordy-I swear I did not know what was in store for me- I was introduced to Scotty,Jonesy(Mr. Jones to me),Plumber(the man missed his calling,laughter is his game), the mysterious Postman,B(e)ar-pronounced "Bar" and others who came and went, but it was I sitting there at this table that stayed, outlasted my own will and more beer than my bladder could handle. (Just in case you're wondering...it was affirmed early on that if I was to hang with the big dogs at that table, I was to drink right along side, beer for beer-and that Mr. Jones and Plumber would give me a ride home in the "Ghetto Sled", they lived on the lake near my cabin. Plumber was the designated O'Douls man. And he made my bladder extra weak by making me laugh all tooo much.)So, I'll continue...I mean, you know-I won't shut up yet...keep reading. So-I saddled right up there to the table, I'm a big girl, with my big girl pants on...did I tell you already I was a bit green from the night before? More beer?! Oh please God, not that! But the characters there insisted, number one rule-cheers! Number 2 rule-Bullshit. How could I resist? Hair of the dog that bit ya', right? And believe me brothers and sisters, I was not born to boogie-I was made to bullshit. It was on. And on it went, like music that everyone knows the words to-we were batting around the cow pie like The Babe. Beautiful music, barely true.
I'm at a loss of words here, I tell you-I cannot properly convey the finest time I had there. Those men treated me with more respect and honor than this woman has ever been subject to. A southern man. Real men. Lady killers? None affected me like that-except one, cocky, strutting,full of his self type. Played him a game or two in pool-I'll give him this, I could not beat him-pretty good. But even if I did, I think-him being all ego and all, he would have melted like the wicked witch in Oz, I could not do that to the man-and now I do use that term loosely. As I was leaving, he said "Why y'all gotta go with them old buzzards? I don't need no Viagra!" I couldn't think on my feet fast enough (Coors related)-but I hope this gets back to you my friend. Them "old buzzards" got more going for them in their little finger than you have in your whole being, and I don't think they make a product for a man like you-you're the one who needs to stiffen up.. and see a xxxxxxx.(I took that last word out, no reason to be mean-serves no purpose. But I am a bit ornery.)
Ok, so back to the Rec...oh, yes we were leaving. Homeward bound! Nope, Plumber there is a vet, see-and he wanted to take me to the AmVets there in Decatur...so I giggled all the way there, and the whole time there, and finally leaned over to Mr. Jones "Jonesy, I am not long for this world." He told Plumber, so politely-(Mr. Jones is a charming man, I don't know his true age-I only know true charm never ages)"Plumber, let's take this lady home." So we said our goodbyes to the crew there, oh did I mention Beaker? Well, now that IS another story indeed!!! I'll leave you with this impression-he quite possibly was the purest, most innocent soul of a man I had ever encountered-and funny,funny to beat the band-but I don't think he was trying to be, that was just his sweet nature.
Ok-let's sum this whole thing up...I was in the land of a Bullshitter's Paradise, what better way to spend a day off the grid. And on the mark, precisely where I needed to be. Talk to y'all later, take care-

A Fire In Rain

It's Saturday evening, I just returned from a Solstice celebration with four down to earth, beautiful gals. We ate pate', shrimp, drank pomegranate martinis and savored fresh fudge and other dessert fantasies AND built a fire in rain and a 25 mile an hour wind. Felt great. We let our hair down, us five-every time we get together it's all laughter and cheers!! Some of us have lost our soul mates, some still looking, some so inspiring with a great love everlasting, living lessons in devotion. Every time I'm around these women, I feel like singing, or Tarzan calling...pounding, cheering, hollering-yep, that's what us country types do. Even when everyone is looking, we dance.
So-it is truly a beautiful thing when you can share stories and tears, light and laughter, a howling good time with your "bosom" buddies, but I can say no more...what happens at Aud's house stays at Aud's house. But...Miss Aud's a hell of a fun framer, who knows...I may just post what bliss looks like at a later date. Peace and wonder to all and to all a silent, still night. ('Cause my head hurts...must of been the pometinis.) Take care-

The Blind Man's Bliss

Good chilly morning,

I could start out this post ranting and raving about the fact that I have no hot water this morning...I really want to vent a bit about that, but I am abled bodied and capable of changing the heating element, though I have to get to work soon so I'll count on that after work activity and a cold shower this morning. The blind man-I sat next to him last evening while attending Blues Monday, listening to Susie and the Smokers, trying to stay in my seat while all I wanted to do was dance, dance, dance! The blind man, a local bass player I learned, was as sweet and kind as a person could be, a smile seemingly ever present. It is his perspective that I will try to convey here today-did he see the beautiful sunset last night? The one that cast only the colors that sunset's cast-otherworldly oranges and pinks that cause the soul to rejoice-no, I could not ask him that conversational question. Could he see the dancers, don't they seem to be leaving their bleak Monday behind as they twirl and hip jive to a Tommy Castro tune? No, again-I could not open up with much of a stimulating chat. Still, he smiled, tapping his cane to the rhythm, so it was he leading me to his experience of the music. I liked him. A good person to sit next too, a real complete being without sight. How would he react to home repair? Perhaps that is why he smiled, seemed so light-he has to trust his fellow man, knows he needs us to lend a helping hand. Oh to be so humble, unafraid to open up to life as it flows, and when a wave rocks the boat, the blind man smiles and seemingly knows to call out to another, engage a friendship in time of need. Lord, you gave me sight and strength, how about a plumber today? Increase my faith, and give me please- the bliss of a blind man. Take care-