Mr. Sandman Strikes Again

For my grandson, happiness is a warm, cushy stair at bedtime.

∞§∞

Up the stairs with golden dust

the sandman softly sweeps.

He sprinkles magic from his hand

until the whole world sleeps.

∞§∞

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Resolution Comes at Odd Times

My husband and I did something out of the ordinary on Saturday...something we had disagreed about in the past. Happily, we have reached a resolution, and my wish is being granted. We will (later than sooner, I hope) be buried in the lovely, peaceful little cemetery near our home.

Yes, we have purchased a funeral plot, and it's been a long time coming. We first started thinking about doing this several years ago, when we completed our estate planning, but there was just one catch: His family plot (a rather large one) is located in Salt Lake City, and I have no yearning to be included there. Instead, I have felt a strong preference for spending my pre-resurrection years somewhere in California, where my life and children are. Understandably, he felt pulled toward both places, so we just tabled the discussion for a time.

For some reason, attending the funeral of our friend's son made both of us realize that we would feel most at home resting right here...in this little village where we have lived for the past 21 years.

And that's just what we'll do, when the time comes. It's a good spot. In fact, our little piece of peace can be found midway between an oak tree and a redwood tree.

Some people may think it's an odd thing we've done, but Dave and I are planners. Besides, it will be easier on our kids to make one less decision after we're gone.

Best of all, we will be among old friends. And hopefully, no more young ones.

Crocodile Tears

Saturday Centus is here again, and with it comes a new prompt and a specific genre: science fiction. (ugh) The good news is that we get to add 100 words in addition to the prompt, which is in red.

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Crocodile Tears

"Beam me up, Scottie..." Laura clicked off the TV and settled into their new-generation tempurpedic. One more Star Trek re-run, and she’d turn into a pumpkin. “A Vulcan,” she corrected, her voice too loud for the setting. But what did it matter? He’d vanished so silently and completely he might never have been there at all. What kind of man slinks away in the night, without warning? “A Reptilian,” she replied, shouting at the empty room as if he were still there to hear.

Lightyears away, he panics. “Coincidence,” he insists fervently to his scaly superior, but it’s too late. She’s already been neutralized.

∞§∞

Round Two: Puttin' Up My Dukes

In a couple of hours, I'll be out the door...raring to go...chafing at the bit to experience numero dos on my list of fabulous events I look forward to in January of each year. Namely, the physical exam. What could be more fun than undergoing the quizzings and quippings, weighings and warnings, pesterings and probings of a physician who can only be annoyed to find that you haven't improved your health one iota in the past year? (And it's even more fun if you have actually managed to worsen it.)

*sigh*

Ah, well. I'm ready to take my medicine, I guess. Literally and figuratively. I'm even willing to make some necessary changes, because I don't feel as well as I'd like to. But boy, oh boy, do I hate giving myself into the hands of the medical professionals. Having been burned more than once, trusting their "esteemed" counsel does not come easily. Since I don't seem to be taking my own, however, I'm bringing in the big guns to spur me on my way.

Wish me luck! I'm looking to reverse the trend and get healthier this year, and I'm pulling out all the stops to get 'er done.

Yes, I may even do yoga.

But probably not this pose.

;)

Ouch!

There is a certain brand of elation (bordering on exultation) that comes but once a year, at the conclusion of the universally dreaded and oft-postponed annual mammogram.

Let's face it. Breasts were never intended to be lifted, stretched, scrunched, smashed, and nearly detached from the chest wall. Especially by another woman! Where's all that "I bloat, bleed, and give birth, too" sisterhood when you really need it? Gone. Vanished, like our pre-mammogram innocence. (And with it goes the not unreasonable assumption that our most vulnerable and tender appendages will always be safe within our purview and protection.)

Hey, those suckers belong to us, right? (Sorry. Poor word choice.) But seriously, isn't it enough that our babies get to do their utmost to drag 'em down to our knees? Now we have to hand the soon-to-be-flattened set over to the evil mistress of the mammogram machine. Whatever happened to the concept of sovereign domain, anyway? Do we really have to let Terri the technician have her way with us?

Of course, we all know the answer. It's a resounding YES!

But we don't have to like it...

;)

SUE'S MAMMOGRAM COMPLETE - 01/19/11

Care to join me?

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Blessed Are They that Mourn...

It was a solemn and sacred occasion.

The sun shone down upon us, and warmth enfolded our hearts.

We mourned together; we rejoiced together.

We remembered a good life...a good man.

A loving mother paid tribute to her son.

Children paid tribute to their beloved uncle.

And we were simply grateful to have known him.

A good friend overheard what may have been the most beautiful moment, for me, of the entire day. One of his dear little nieces whispered to another, "Look, Uncle Matt is inside that big, red treasure chest."

Considering who was laid to rest there Monday, I think she got it right.

Good Friends Last Forever

This photo of young women who grew up together in my church family

and are now wives and mothers of their own families makes me happy.

Good friendships last forever.

=)

PS. You would be amazed to hear how many children they have among them!

(Hint: It's a BIG number!!)

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On Wishes, Sorrows, and Tomorrows

©2011 Susan Noyes Anderson - poem only

I'd like to be a giving tree,

then I would shed for you

enough of leaves to keep you warm

and dry the winter through.

I'd like to be a shining sun,

a burst of stars at night...

to light the sky when darkness looms

and keep your spirits bright.

I'd like to be a friendly fire

to guard you when you're still...

to glow when you are weary, and

to keep away the chill.

I'd like to be a sparkling stream,

where you could wash away

the struggles of tomorrow

and the pains of yesterday.

Alas, I can be none of these

but I am yet your friend,

and I will hold you in my heart

until our journeys end.

Today is a foggy day in Northern California, the funeral of our dear friends' son. I hope the afternoon sun will come out and shine on us...and them. But if not, all is well. We will remember where the real Light comes from, and be comforted.

Age: The Lottery Ticket

Yet another shake-up on Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus meme. (Getting to be a tricky little devil, isn't she?) This time, we've got 25 words plus the three-word prompt, which is (as always) in red.

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Age: The Lottery Ticket

Bladders tinkle.

Jugs don't jive.

Stomachs sinkle.

Derrieres dive.

Both lips shrink, while

skintags thrive.

Crow's feet crinkle.

Man alive!

The powerball? Age 25.

∞§∞

Perspective, Prayer, and Peace

Perspective

©2003 by Susan Noyes Anderson

In life, there is a symmetry––

a balance that bespeaks a plan,

and he who treads a humble path

will find in him a peaceful man.

Look up; the leaves adorn the trees,

then fall to earth beneath your feet.

Look down; each stone could grace a pillar

or be crushed into concrete.

True harmony is always found

within the singing of a song.

The road will show you where it leads,

and if the way is short or long.

∞§∞

Thanks for helping me keep my perspective yesterday with all your good thoughts and wishes. Despite some crazy weather, my son did indeed make it to Washington DC and is interviewing even as we "speak." Today, I feel much more peaceful.

Letting go is always a good thing and, for me, prayer makes that possible. Remembering that I am not in charge, and that I don't need to be, allows me to sing life's song with a lot more joy.

And a lot less jitteriness, too!

=)

PS. Did you know it's national blog delurking day? So delurk, my friends. Chime on in and introduce yourself. (You're already welcome, you know.)