They Call Me... Killah

A cat has acquired us.

Cat people know this truth. 

Non-cat people would say we acquired a cat.

She is a Siamese that arrived on the front lawn as if she'd been air-dropped. And from the moment my husband, daughter, and grandson returned from the store, she kitty-trotted up and claimed them. 

My husband had never been a cat person. Nothing against them, but he preferred dogs and had been allergic to cats as a child. However, he's an animal magnet with a very caring nature.

Of course, after my daughter and grandson went back to California, he slowly allowed himself to be trained by the kitty, who was mostly an outside cat, but she allowed him to keep her inside sometimes. 

Again, cat people understand the truth of that statement.

After some months, the kitty, whom my daughter originally named Gemini and my son modified to Gemma, is now with us here in Georgia at Mom's. She was asked if she wanted to come, and she told my husband, "Yes."

Mom has renamed her Kitty. It really fits her sleek, 60's, Dianna Rigg style.

A few weeks ago, she began to catch mice and frogs on the property. 

She really started strutting then! Just by the way she would saunter up, I could hear her (in my head):

"They call me... Killah." 

Then, last week, she started posing her kills as a gift to us.

The picture is a dead, posed, 'gift' frog at our back door.

I know it doesn't look dead. I promise you, it is.

Oh, thank you, mighty huntress!

"You're welcome. Tomorrow morning, I'll wake you for the hunt in my normal manner: I shall walk up your body and purr in your ear at maximum volume with intermittent claw kneading as necessary. I shall then catch you a fresh tribute, and you shall honor me with adoration, cat toys, and all the human food I wish to investigate and turn down. Again, you're welcome. But, only in the house! Please don't try to ruin my street cred by adoring me openly while we're outside. You will get your feelings hurt because out there, I'm Killah. Now, sit still so I can immobilize you for hours while I rest up. That's a good human.  Don't pet me! That's needy, and I'll have to move. Your assignment is to just be my pillow. Got it? Good. Don't rub my belly."

That's Life... and Death

Mom's house, Georgia 2/1/25, the day of Mike's funeral

Hello, Wonderfuls!

It's been a while.

You know what they say about the best-laid plans. 

Life happens... or more accurately, death happens. And then life goes on.

2025 began with the death of my uncle on January 4th. He was married to my mother's sister, Aunt Mary, for 64 years and had been in my life for all of my life.

What we had no way of knowing was that Uncle Frank was the first snowball of the avalanche.

On January 28th, my stepfather, Mike, died. He and Mom had been married 38 years. We had a strained relationship, but when my mother asked me to come, I made plans to be there for the funeral.

I drove from Texas to Georgia over two days and arrived on January 31st for what I'd planned to be a 10-day visit (plus four days of driving) to spend time with my grieving mother, who was open about her memory issues.

It became obvious nearly immediately that what to do about mom had never really been considered by any of the four of us. To be honest, that alone was stupid as hell incredibly short-sighted.

It also became clear that leaving her by herself wasn't an option, and the suggestion from other siblings that we put her into an assisted living facility went through my husband like hot lead. 

We agreed that he would hold the fort down in Texas, and I would stay with Mom in Georgia, handling the inevitable post-passing aftermath of losing my stepfather while bare-knuckle, knock-down, drag-out fighting wrestling with my past. 

I'd only been on the run from my own history for 24 years. That back-shelf baggage was dusty as hell.

The week before Memorial Day, Mom and I finally made the return drive to Texas for my youngest son's high school graduation. My son's achievement became an excuse to get together for a rare (based on the year's events) happy occasion. A genuine celebration where the only tears would be born of joy.

My sister flew in from Jersey, my daughter and grandson flew in from California. My other son came in from Austin. I met my second grandson, who had been born in my absence. We had four generations under one roof thanks to the above-and-beyond efforts of my sometimes saint-like (totally earned the moniker of saint on this occasion) husband, and as each member of the family arrived, we took the time to celebrate the unprecedented gathering.  

In the four months since I'd left Texas for Mike's funeral in Georgia, we'd also lost my mom's older brother and twin of my newly widowed aunt, Uncle Jimmy; all three of the brothers-in-law had passed within three months and three days of each other. In addition to two more of my mother's cousins, two cars, and our beloved dog and faithful companion of 8 years, Tank.

We felt the gratitude and appreciation of the time with each other acutely. 

To be fair to Death and Time, every one of the people (and vehicles) that we lost was of an advanced age. Some seemed healthier than others, but none of them was a complete and utter shock other than my stepfather (due to our short sightedness) and Tank, who it turned out had cancer and his newly acquired habit of whining was no doubt due to a level of pain we didn't understand; he was gone so quickly we hadn't figured it out. We were at least comforted for his being out of pain despite being blindingly heartbroken by his loss.

It also clarified that unto every life is the certainty that to those we leave behind, we will indeed serve as either an inspirational story or a cautionary tale. Sometimes both.

In between losing Uncle Frank and Mike, I found out about a childhood friend of mine being diagnosed with a very aggressive form of cancer. We reconnected after I wrote my book, and she was absolutely wonderful about mentoring me in the process that she had been through during her author journey.

From childhood, Lora has always been larger than life. Almost every day, she posts another video of her reading from Beat Cancer Daily. The doctors told her she won't finish the book. With every post, she presses forward, hoping to prove the doctors wrong. I pray for her a lot. I check Facebook after Mom goes to bed just to make sure she's still posting.

2025 equates to a 9 in numerology. Endings and transitions. Accurate doesn't even begin to describe.

In 8 days, it will be August. Other than still being married an absolute miracle considering the circumstances, and still doing online classes through WGU Hey, Aria! Starting a new class means actually STARTING the new class, not shooting the breeze with Mom for five hours every day without getting on the computer and doing the work, everything about my existence has been turned on its head. 

And yet, there is rhyme. There is reason. Balance comes and goes, but there is clearly a purpose being played out. Death is a part of the grand cycle of life.

I am grateful for where I have found myself in the journey of my life; one more day trying to tip the scales from cautionary tale to inspirational story. Learning to heal my psyche regarding my past instead of ignoring it.

Also learning to take stock and balance everything that has landed on my plate.

Writing here wound up at the bottom of the stack for a while.

I've missed writing for something other than an assignment. I hope the Universe and I let me come back more often now. But only time will tell.

WGU, How Do I Love Thee

 

I mentioned in an earlier post that I was going back to college.

I chose WGU - Western Governors University.

The college runs on a competency-based model. What that means is that if you know the subject matter you can test out and advance more quickly. How? Because it's fully online, so you choose when and how to study and you schedule your own tests and appointments with instructors and mentors.

Furthermore, they charge by semester vs. credit.

Add the two together, and you have the ability and opportunity to fly through your classes and save money at the same time.

What else? Oh, the classes are one at a time so you can focus by class instead of being diverted into several classes at a time which makes it easier to retain the knowledge.

There are several helpful features including recorded webinars and cohorts which are live one-on-one teaching sessions with tutors. Library courses in MS programs and math and writing to get your skills up to college level, and an in-depth student body outreach program that makes you feel like you're not alone in the slightest despite doing college from your home office.

What I hope to get across here is, if you feel like online college would be a good fit for you (it's not for everyone; some people prefer to attend a brick-and-mortar school) I cannot say enough about WGU.

I spent almost two years at the University of Phoenix doing their online program over 10 years ago. They do four classes at a time and everything is scheduled by them. 

While I did well there, (3.9 GPA ahthankyouvurymuch) I find that being able to schedule myself and do one class at a time has made a huge difference in the experience, and I would never go back.

Ever.

I love WGU and look forward to getting my MBA with a quickness that I wasn't aware was possible.

WGU, how do I love you? Let me count the ways...

Oh, and I've included a referral code in the sidebar for anyone who may be interested.

See you in the Owl's Nest!

Merry New Year, Wonderfuls!

As we wind down this year; a year of tumultuous upheaval, of answered prayers, of love and tears and laughter, of incredulity and hopeful joy, of the unexpected in its best and worst forms, let us not forget:

1. Those we have loved and lost to time. That we may remember all of the best things they imparted to our lives. Raise a glass of pink lemonade to them and celebrate that which they have left with you.

2. That disappointments are temporary; whatever you are feeling, it is sure to pass, so breathe a little deeper and cry to release the pain from your heart when you need to, but realize it will change given time. The best part of being at the bottom is that you only have one direction to go: Up.

3. So, too, is joy temporary. Allow yourself to feel each enjoyment to its fullest. Smile from your soul. Laugh, literally out loud. Cry to release all of the happiness that is overflowing from your heart. Acknowledge the wonderful you experience and stop for a moment to feel it fully. Joy recharges one's proverbial batteries. Hope is residual joy and the belief that you will attain it again.

4. The unexpected will happen. Facing it with open positivity is often the difference between the best and worst-case scenarios. Finding any upside to the unexpected has the potential to change its trajectory.

Number 4 is easier to do when you...

 

5. Take the time to really learn yourself. You and only you are going to walk through your life and experience. Learn you. Work on recognizing triggers and managing them. Quantify your likes and dislikes *hot tip, if you haven't done this before, start with something simple like food and work into bigger stuff like personality traits in people*. Have your natal birth chart calculated and find out what it says. If you scoff at astrology, this may change your tune. It's an excellent tool for recognizing oneself. Take a free personality test online and read about your type. You may wind up feeling 'seen' for the first time. Take a career assessment. You may be in the wrong field for you and fighting yourself to even get out the door every morning. If you're the type of employee who's late three or more times a week, this may be your wake-up call.

6. And finally, Wonderfuls, remember that what you put out there inevitably returns to you. Be merciful, kind, generous, thoughtful, gracious, and loving regardless of the situation you are facing, and your life will be vastly improved by this time next year. And yes, I know it is easier said than done. We are all human and works in progress. We aren't great every day. Sometimes we aren't even good. But we can strive to be better than we were yesterday. It's the only goal that is both worthy and attainable for everyone.

🎄MERRY NEW YEAR!🎄

Remotely Attempting To Ruin Your Life

 

Beware the hackers, Y'all! 

If you apply for one position and you get an email saying that it's closed, but there's another position you would be perfect for, CALL THE COMPANY directly and ask to speak to the email sender or whomever they mention by name in the email.

The emails are usually in a very basic font (sans serif, etc.), may or may not have additional contact information, and tend to copy and paste the "about" section of the company's website.

I was lucky not to have given up any personal information that wasn't public knowledge, but I did turn down two other offers, thinking I had secured employment. The attachments I was sent to secure my position were on company letterhead.

However, one of them was another scam, and the letters, after comparison, were very similar minus the names and company information.

Some company somewhere is actually hiring for remote workers, but it sure wasn't either of them. When I returned to my 'applied' in the 'my jobs' section and attempted to return to them, the listings were also missing.

I'm so discouraged by the amount of lying, scamming, and hacking I've found since applying on LinkedIn and Indeed. My phone is on permanent 'do not disturb' with certain numbers allowed around the DND.

I cannot begin to tell you how much I miss morals and ethics being the norm. Not having to assume that everyone is lying until they prove otherwise. For people (like me) who don't operate that way, it's nauseating and thoroughly disheartening to be out here in this employment search climate.

Texas Trash Pie Recipe

1 10" pie crust

1 stick (8 Tbsp) salted butter

1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk

Now, in one of these measuring cups, not the glass kind: 

1 Cup of each:

***measure pretzels and graham crackers after crushing***

Crushed pretzels (any shape, but crush to 1/2" or smaller pieces)

Crushed honey Graham crackers (some larger pieces, not all dust)

Chocolate chips (your choice of sweetness)

Caramel bits

Shredded coconut (sweetened or not, I've used both; for more coconut flavor, use sweetened-  for less, use unsweetened)

Finely chopped pecans (the kind for pecan cookies- it will say that on the package)

1. Start with a cold oven, and pre-bake empty pie crust at 375 for 10 minutes. Remove from oven and let crust cool on a rack while making filling. 

2. Melt butter in a microwave-safe container.

3. In a very large bowl, combine butter and condensed milk. 

4. Add the rest of the ingredients and combine as thoroughly as possible - it's a very chunky mix!

5. When you're satisfied the ingredients are mixed well, pour (dump) it into the cooled pie crust and even out the spread of the filling across the crust. 

6. Bake on the center rack of your already preheated oven at 375 (like the crust) for 30-35 minutes and remove promptly to the cooling rack.

The top should look very lightly browned. It will continue cooking (and weirdly: browning! IDK, but it does!) while it cools for at least 30 minutes. Overcooking will cause the pie to be dry inside.

Good alone, with whipped cream, or a dollop of vanilla ice cream.

A cup of coffee or a HUGE glass of milk is recommended.

Recommended for nearly all holiday gatherings (maybe not a large group of diabetics or a Weight Watcher's meeting - yes, they are different things).

 HAPPY HOLIDAY'S, WONDERFULS!

Nacho Sancho Lives

 

Hello Wonderfuls!

I've resurrected my Nacho Sancho product line from the now defunct AZieTee shop that I had a while ago (before I started this blog).

I've got a new Etsy Store and after popular local demand, I've brought back the Nacho Sancho line!

It's fun, it's catchy, it makes a great gift for the guy you don't know what to buy for, and it's definitely going to get a chuckle!

Moreover, I've made sure everything is ALWAYS FREE SHIPPING which is nice for every online shopper!

And last, but not least, I'm running a Black Friday - Cyber Monday sale with 20% off the entire product line. 

The above picture is a 60x80 throw blanket.

Also available are tee shirtslast but not least, sweatshirts, pants, mugs, glasses, phone cases, and more!

I pray everyone has a safe and wonderful holiday season!

Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all! Let the shopping begin!

PS. Growing Prayerfully - A Little Book About Praying Big also makes a great gift for any and everyone! *winkbigcheesysmilewink*

Dear Tracy

*This is one of the rare posts that includes cussing; fair warning*

Good morning and happy Sunday, Y'all!

I would think that the time between posts lets you know how things have been going.

Chaotic.

School is about to start for me, my kiddo is already rocking the standard M-F of senior year (which means that I am as well), and I had to apply for some temporary aid from the state, so Texas requires 35 hours of verified job searches per week (even if you get hired!) until you are removed from aid, which can take up to 60 days (8 weeks of those requirements being met!) to be removed from should I sit on hold for an hour and request to be removed. 

With everything I have going on, I'm going to say here and now, that I will probably only be posting on Sundays for a while, but at least I'll be back to posting! 

And buried inside the timeline of all that personal life chaos, there was the country's chaos of the election to end all elections; and several relationships from what I've seen on social media.

I have only blocked one person due to their political beliefs, and it's not why anyone, including that person, if she knows yet, would think.

I will come out now, regardless of what hot water I may wind up in later, I am a virulent ANTI-Trump woman. I am not a Kamala lover nor did I vote for her because she is a woman; all politicians are flawed and of the two, she had my vote less for being her and more for Not Being Trump.

I grew up in NJ and have known about Trump and his ignorant arrogance since before his first Pizza Hut commercial with Ivanna. I remember dealings in Atlantic City and before The Art of The Deal. The face, the stance, the lies, the greed.

I am personally related to a former Masonic big wig who had business meetings with DJT as part of the Shriners on behalf of a fundraiser for their children's hospitals. They were turned down because they asked for a discount on the facility which could have been used as a charitable donation at tax time for Trump. 

Lose money to help children in need? Fuck No! Not Trump.

There is no kindness in his soul along with manyManyMANY other character and belief flaws he possesses.

I personally believe that this country is so completely fucked behind the choice of this man that I, for the first time in 53 years of life, found myself crying in the car on Wednesday morning over the outcome of the election.

As a person who was born with a vagina and can see the long game coming, I can only hope that we can undo what this joker is about to do. Which may not even be possible after he removes more women's rights to keep them from fighting back.

It's a lot. My mind is playing out scenarios both best and worse case and even the best cases are mostly horrible.

I have been everywhere that I'm on social media with #trumpisascumbag and I hope it catches on, because it's the core of where this country is about to go.

Now, as much as I'm willing to die on this hill, my one blocked friend, Tracy, is as outspoken in her commitment to the Trump side of things.

Before this election, I would say that Tracy is a kind person. She and her husband are good people. Her daughter has been raised to be a good person. We aren't especially close, but I always enjoyed her, and her friendship. I've known her since 1987. And when I released my book, she was one of the first people to buy one and write just the most wonderful message to me of encouragement. My accomplishment brought her joy. Her joy has always brought me joy. 

And she voted for Trump. 

Which, as a woman, I almost feel is worse than a man voting for Trump.

A betrayal from within the sisterhood. 

And all I can think, because of my prior knowledge of Tracy as a person, is that she has been manipulated into believing a lie. 

IDK what the viewpoint is that specifically has garnered her allegiance to that side, but I do know that the compassionate, caring, and genuinely kind person that I have known for over thirty years cannot possibly believe in that man without having been lied to; because otherwise she'd be shouting about women's rights from the mountaintops.

But she voted for Trump.

All I can say to Tracy, and every other female follower of and about Trump: My Wonderful, please scratch the lies. Do some deeper research into your hot-button topic that caused your belief in Trump, whatever that issue may be. Please, please do more research.

Economy? The only presidents that benefit from the economic plan of their first term are the ones that are elected to a second consecutive term. Do you know what that means in real world terms? Trump's 'better economy' of 2016 was because of the framework Obama set up. And how's this for you; Biden's fucked economy was due to Trump's policies because that's who controlled the previous 4 years. When the economy improves in the next 4 years, you're going to have to go thank Joe.

OUCH!

Oh, was it abortion? Well, Ladies, you have every right to be opposed to abortion. It's your body, please do with it as you wish - just like any man does.

Here's the problem with making your opposition the law of the land: women not being able to do what they wish with their own bodies lowers us to second-class citizenship. Men are autonomous, but women are not. If you don't agree with abortion, don't get one and teach those around you why you disagree with it. But forcing anyone to give birth for reasons that are not their own is forced compliance.

Forced compliance is slavery.

Let's carry this on down. No abortion. Some women will simply die. Not a euphemism, fact. Then you have the children who will go into the system when they're abandoned, or raised by the mother that never wanted them and abuses or neglects them. Then there's the children themselves that now have all sorts of mental and possibly physical issues due to being raised in those environments.

How is no one looking at what this is going to do to the system, the American population, and the populace itself?

And now Trump is talking about making porn illegal. Porn is not my thing, but I can tell you, as a society that has become used to having porn, what removing it will do. The eventual outcome is a rise in the national rape rate.

Yeah, you heard me. The number of rapes will increase without that porn outlet. 

And, abortion is illegal.

Are you seeing it now? Fucking disaster AND women will bear the brunt of the decision. More stress on the system; crime numbers up, ER numbers up, mental health issues up, police numbers down; can't keep up with it all.

OUCH.

But maybe it was something else. Some other issue.

Regardless, I cannot have this conversation with my blocked friend, Tracy.

She's not pro Trump, she PRO TRUMP.

I'm not anti Trump, I'm ANTI TRUMP.

So, this may surprise you, but the reason that I blocked Tracy is because I love her. 

I love the Tracy that I've known for *ahemwearenotthatoldahem* years. And I am quite certain that one of us will post something that will most likely offend each other. Posts are indefinitely readable, after all.

Now, would I happily go to lunch or hang out with Tracy if we both agreed to lay down any political conversation while we were together? Absolutely. I'd love to.

But until then, or for the next probably 4-5 years (assuming Trump will leave office when he gets his dictatorial ass in there; he did say there would be no election in 2028, didn't he?) I will keep Tracy blocked for the sake of our friendship.

During this time, I will send her all the love and light that I would have normally. I will think of her fondly and defend her to anyone that dares speak ill of her to me (no one ever has, but in such a case). For now, I will love her from afar.

And should she ever scratch that lie and find the inevitable thief, I will wipe her tears of heartbreak and hug her into the sisterhood once again with compassion and forgiveness. For who of us hasn't believed a lie at some point in our lives?

Dear Tracy,

I blocked you on social media because I love you!

I'll see you on the other side my friend.

#trumpisascumbag

Love,

Aria

When God Brings You To It, Wonderfuls

 

Very powerful indeed, but not that powerful.

No, Wonderfuls (that is all of you readers, BTW), if you are plugged in, God will find you, and use you as He sees fit; whenever and wherever you are.

As I mentioned in the original post, I had no intention of writing a book that day.

I asked God where He wanted me, and next thing I knew, I had 12 chapters.

The other night, God delivered my son to me. 

Our youngest is a senior in high school and had been living with his father. He called and asked us to get him out of there.

Done. Immediately. 

Very long-standing prayer answered. 

Clearly, it was time.

With a lot of amazing help from the God-given human angels within my own circle, we've been able to make a way to keep his life as right-side up as possible despite the relocation to our house. 

I've been unemployed for months and I don't have a job yet. To say money has been tight? Please. We've been stretching pennies so tightly, they're copper wire. Okay. But on the upside, that means I have all the time in the world right now to be a full time mother! Neither has the book become an international best seller yet. (Apparently, the world wants you to pay for marketing. I now know this. It makes sense, but it wasn't on my radar as a novice author.)  I had to give up my office for a minute until we get the house reconfigured. No worries. I'm not on zoom calls, don't have to navigate a press tour, and I can network on social media from my phone.

Thing is, lest I or anyone else forget, God knows all of this.

He did when He answered the prayer about us getting my son. He did when He had me write a book about prayer instead of start my intended SEO course. He did when the rejection letters arrived because they were actually sparing me from getting all of the j.o.b.s that I apparently wasn't supposed to have.

And, I know that I know that I know that God has got a plan for every last apparent obstacle. Every last unapparent obstacle too.

This is a test.

This is about keeping my eyes on God regardless of what it looks like from the canyon floor.

Wonderfuls, I cannot say that I've been perfect in my faith. I've allowed pessimism to get the best of me a few times. My stress level has been apparent, sometimes even obvious, sometimes even out in public. 

I have to admit, even with the incredibly generous outpouring of help, the canyon floor had been looking like ground zero for devastating flash flooding with the potential for a possible earthquake chasm splitting it open. MyMan and I were both struggling to be full of faith and positivity.

Earlier today, I had an unexpected conversation with a person I had known on an acquaintance level from a previous job experience. To be honest, it didn't occur to me that I would ever see her again from our prior business dealings.

During the course of our conversation, she imparted confirmation about so many of the things I've been praying about. I'm bringing her a signed copy of my book, and we parted with a hug.

One of those times when God used another believer to say, "I heard you."

MyMan had a similar experience late last night with one of his prayer compatriots. A lot of confirmation and teaching that culminated with a prayerful parting that brought him home dancing on air. 

Sometimes even the most faithful of souls need a nod from God.

This afternoon, I feel as though we've turned a corner - in the best of possible ways.

I do not presume to know how or what God has planned.

Winning lottery ticket? Maybe.

Taylor Swift falls in love with Growing Prayerfully - A Little Book About Praying Big and gives it a shout out to all of her Swifties or Oprah lists it as one of her favorite things making me financially set overnight? Either could happen.

A work from home job that isn't a big fat scam or require a bachelor's degree and will actually pay the bills? 

Personally, after researching all of those opportunities I could find, I think I've got a better shot at the lotto, Taylor AND Oprah, but God can do anything!

What I do know, is that when God brings you to it, He will also bring you through it as long as you do what you are able.

So, I've started the process to resume online college (after a lengthy hiatus) to work on my degree, tuned up my resume and sent it off to multiple potential employers, applied for practical help, been over on social media networking as well as self-marketing my book, and last but not least, I've bought a ticket for tonight.

Now, all I have to do is wait on Him.

Isn't it wonderful, Wonderfuls?

Madge, I Think I Need More Than A Manicure

Madison Avenue had it going on in the seventies.

Gen X knows what I'm talking about.

We were stuck on Band-aid brand because Band-aids were stuck on us.

Our bologna had a first name.

Coca-Cola was hoping to teach the world harmony through song and soda.

Green giants say "Ho. Ho. Ho."

I wouldn't be caught dead squeezing the Charmin.

Now that I'm an adult, I think the real story was Mr. Whipple and Madge were a couple when they weren't selling Charmin and Palmolive respectively.

I need my Wonder Woman Underoos, even though they've taken away women's rights and before I begin going down that very depressing, but totally trackable rabbit hole, I'm simply going to stop here.

And be oh, so grateful for the way the world used to be.

That I got to be a child when naivety was still possible. 

Before cynicism and cell phones ruled the world. When the news only came on at 6pm and 11pm. If you wanted to know about celebrities you had to read People magazine. For the scandalous ones, you read the National Enquirer.

No social media. You went out with other people in person and had time to talk to others. Cameras were brought out for family gatherings and nature walks. And then we put them away and didn't think about them for ages.

We baked things in ovens not popped them in microwaves or air fryers. And we sat down to meals with other family members on purpose. You knew the true nature of people in your circle by how they played board games and cards; whether they were cheaters, greedy, willing to bend the rules, outright liars, or kind, thoughtful, and fair.

Politicians were held to higher standards because they were going to govern us.

I watched Jimmy Carter's inauguration. He turns 100 today. 

This sure isn't the world I came in to.

Maybe I can talk Madge into a manicure and try to deal with the modern world again tomorrow.

Saturday Coffee With Rip

 

A few weeks ago, MyMan came home with a bag of the new coffee from Cole Hauser's coffee company, Free Reign Coffee Company. *this is not in any way paid or monetized; see disclaimers in the sidebar* For the record, we like dark roast, and American Dirt (the dark roast flavor) was very nice. Strong, and as I commented on Instagram, reminiscent of an Oreo cookie without the cream filling. It also mellows upon cooling instead of getting harsh, and we've enjoyed it. However, it was also a bit pricey for us, so we're probably not going to race right out and get another bag just yet. It will be on regular rotation though, I'm sure.

Ok, so I told you that part to tell you about this morning.

One of the things about the packaging of the coffee is the picture above of a signed rendering of Cole Hauser as his character from Yellowstone, Rip Wheeler.

We rename things in our house, because after 13 years together, and now as empty-nesters who spend a lot of time together, we have our own personal slang, if you will.

So, MyMan made coffee this morning with the last of the 'Rip Coffee', and as he threw the bag away, I said, "Bye Rip" in a tone that sounded as if I was saying farewell to a departing but dear friend.

MyMan comes back with a teasing, but consoling, "Awwwweee, you're going to miss your crush." I could practically hear the frownie emoji and a pat on the head.

I immediately shot back, going even further with the teasing, "Yeah, I stroke his little face when you're not here", about the picture of Cole's Rip on the bag. "I can hear him in my head telling me, 'Let's tone down the crazy, Aria.'"

Well, we both doubled over laughing and eventually the coffee finished brewing and we toasted Rip and laughed some more over our cups.

So, as coffee has a wont to do, shortly thereafter, I dipped out to the rest room, okay? I shall say no more.

When I came back, MyMan had cut the picture out and placed it on my side table next to my cup of coffee, propped up like it was a cut-out from a teen magazine of old.

We both fell back into a new round of laughter. We came to a natural pause when he asked me, "Would you like me to frame it?"

"No!" I responded with feigned horror, "How could I stroke his little face then?"

"I can do one without the glass."

"Oh, OK then! Yes!"

More laughter.

"I'm so turning this into a post!"

"You should."

There's nothing better than starting a Saturday morning with natural, full-body laughter.

What a wonderful cup of coffee. Thanks Cole!

Farewell Maggie

 

I'm beginning to realize that I cannot take a 'mental health day break' from writing.

It seems that when I do, my writing will eek out into mini novellas on social media reposts or, as in the case of today's post, I'll plan a post and then when I write it, it goes off the rails into a direction that I wasn't expecting.

Like all of the different issues flying around in my head seem to become relevant to things they shouldn't be, and find their way into unrelated post themes.

Today, I started writing about 70's advertising due to talking to MyMan about products we remember from our childhoods. Bayer Aspirin in the metal box. Colgate toothpaste in the metal tube. Noxzema in the blue glass tub.

A few days ago, someone posted an old ad for Underoos, and by the time I finished writing and was ready to start editing, I had segued from Wonder Woman all the way into the loss of women's rights in today's society after making pit stops at Bratz dolls, perception due to appearance, and Roe V Wade.

So much for a fun, throwback, GenX love post.

Plans changed, clearly. Maybe I can talk Madge into a manicure and try again tomorrow.

Before I was sent off the rails of Madison Avenue's machinations, I was notified that Maggie Smith died.

So maybe it went off the rails so I could write this post instead.

Maggie Smith has been in my life since I was five years old.

The picture above is from a movie named Murder By Death that was released in 1976. My parents went to the drive in theater in Union, NJ to watch it. Their two children, aged five and one, were in the back seat. I was the five year old.

It was also so long ago that car seats weren't a thing. I have no idea where my infant sister was, but I was dead center of the back seat watching the movie with rapt attention. Every few minutes my mother would look over her shoulder expecting to find me asleep, but not a chance. I was awake as awake gets and paying full attention.

In the evening gown above, with her English accent, and regal demeanor; Maggie was my first 'Movie Star'. Other people heard movie star and thought Marilyn Monroe and Liz Taylor. I thought Maggie.

In the many years since, no matter where I found her, she was always my Movie Star. She even managed to be one when she was wearing a wimple and correcting Whoopi Goldberg as a nun. Twice.

I don't know many people who didn't want a Hogwarts letter, but the biggest part of my wanting to get my letter was the possibility of running across Maggie's Professor McGonagall with her feisty, protective, and always upright self. 

Her crown may have been invisible, but it was always there.

Ms. Maggie,

Thank you, Ma'am. *curtsey*

Update on Growing Prayerfully

 

Happy Tuesday, Wonderfuls!

I wanted everyone to be aware that I've been getting amazing feedback on Growing Prayerfully - A Little Book About Praying Big from everyone.

Y'all are so kind thank you!!!

But, I need to unpublish the paperback for a moment in order to update the ISBN so I can expand my distribution.

The process requires that I unpublish it momentarily and then republish, so if you went looking and weren't able to buy it, it will be back shortly!

Please try again shortly, and I will post here as soon as it goes back live; I'm shooting for Friday, September 27, 2024, but I don't have confirmation of that date yet.

Thank you again everyone for all of your interest and kind feedback! And just a reminder, if you would please, please, please go over to Amazon, or your retailer if it wasn't a gifted copy, and give it whatever you feel is an appropriate number of stars (and a review if you're feeling froggy!), again please, and again thank you. 

Apparently reviews are difficult to get and as a first-time author, they're critical.

Love and Prayers to you all!

Aria

Schedules and ISH-ness

I woke up this morning reminded of a documentary about Ernest Hemingway.

Apparently, no matter how hard he went the day and night before, when he was working on a story, Big Papa always wrote from first light until roughly noon.

I was not given either the ability to forgo sleep for drinking and carousing, nor gifted with a natural proclivity for getting up at the crack of dawn. 

Once upon a historical time, everyone's internal clocks were governed by daylight. It was (largely) the only light there was. But since the 1880's humans have had electric lighting.

Hemingway was born in 1899; he was still on the original sun up clock. By today's standards, the need of sunlight for lighting is a moot point and society has been altered by changes to the internal clocks of people.

I am one of those people. My internal clock has been off, according to the world, for my entire existence. I was one of those kids that just couldn't get it together for the school schedule. I had insomnia in middle school. 

Maybe it was inherited, but I think the real, however unspoken, culprit of insomnia is trying to fit a non-standard internal clock into a standard daytime schedule. 

Supposedly shift work is detrimental. And I don't doubt that it is for people pulling second or third shift that have internal clocks set to first shift hours. However, I would bet that there are also a fair number of people working first shift that are fighting the detrimental effects on their internal clocks of conforming to that shift.

If they would offer not-shift-work jobs on shift-work schedules, I bet there would be some very happy, not to mention mentally sharper people in the world.

In my early professional years, I was all about shift work. Second shift is 2-10ish pm and was perfect for someone with my internal clock. I could get up when I wanted, and make it to work with plenty of time. I could handle any personal business outside of  work hours, and at the end of the shift, there was still plenty of time to socialize. It fit me and my natural internal timing well. I rocked second shift like nobody's business. Two problems with second shift though; first there's no consistency to the scheduling in those positions. My work days would change every week. I never knew how much my checks were going to be because I didn't know how many hours I was getting each week. The second problem with second shift, is the bigger the boss, the earlier his or her shift.

Regardless of the company or the department, as I graduated to better positions, they all required a 'first shift' schedule of 9ish to 5ish.

There were things I really liked about these jobs, but the schedule was never one.

I was exhausted when the alarm would blare me awake. I was awake when it was time to go to bed. My brain didn't want to kick into gear until after lunch, but I was also exhausted because my sleep wasn't right so I would alternate between brilliantly sharp, and napping at my desk. I  always had to take time off to handle any personal business. If I went out to lunch it was with every other day worker - fighting for their space and time in the drive-thru. And last, but not least, I was always stressed because everything about me was out of time with how my system wanted to run naturally. 

I conformed. I went and did on everyone else's timeline. Just like most adults, you simply do whatever you need to do, right? Fold yourself to fit whatever box is going to help you make the world go round. No big deal; hardly even a thought given. 

After a while, through being in the world as I was, I forgot my own natural rhythms. I was miserable for the very reasons I listed earlier. The timing of my internal clock was off. I was exhausted and looking at every other possible reason other than the truth: I was disregarding my own system. 

Not having an alarm clock jolt me awake has been one of the best things about being laid off. 

We're empty-nesters. This must be stated. Consistency of schedule hasn't been a thing in our house for six months. People with children at home can not do this.

Allowing your natural schedule to return isn't for the faint of heart. 

At first you sleep like the dead. When you finally stop recouping from years of lack of sleep, then you wind up awake when you typically would sleep and fall out when you would normally be awake. You wind up at the grocery store on Monday at 10 pm and on Wednesday at 6 am and you don't even work there. You call family and friends and are made aware how completely upside-down everything about your schedule feels.

Somehow, someway, over the course of a few, or several, or many weeks you find your new normal. 

Now when we are awoken instead of awakening naturally, it's to a phone call from one of the kids on their way to work, or the dog wanting to chase the garbage men. Either one is preferable to the assault of an alarm hurrying me to a day of trying to keep up while being off my game from the moment my eyes fly open wildly.

We still keep appointments and honor due dates, but the rest of our timelines run on ISH-ness. Its wonderful.

My personal clock now runs somewhere from between 7-10ish am to midnight-4ish am. Coffee is whenever we get up. Our first meal usually happens between noonish and 3ish. Then again, it may not happen at all. We still adhere to dinner time (usually) but now it varies between 6ish and 11ish depending on the day.

I've come to realize that some of us are not made to fit what the world considers normalcy. Its a freedom that I didn't know existed and I revel in it.

Like Big Papa, I only have one area of true discipline left; to my writing.

And I've learned to become very okay with that.

Friday the 13th... of September

 

Happy Friday the 13th, Y'all!

This week has been pretty scary.

On 9/10, we were assaulted by a presidential candidate debate that's biggest takeaways depending on your chosen side were either the earrings and number of lies she told, or the concept of plans, and immigrants in Springfield, OH eating cats and dogs spoken of by the other guy.

On 9/11, those of us that were alive remembered all of the people lost.

What a way to finish the week; with a Friday the 13th.

Whether today's date means Jason is going to get you (is anyone really still at camp?), or that the Templars were wiped out by Pope Clement V (he was just mad that they had more money and respect than he did) or if it's just a day that you keep an eye out for black cats and expect ugliness from the Universe; we all get some sort of mental imagery when we hear Friday the 13th.

My favorite Friday the 13th current trend is that it's a day to bring out your Halloween-best despite the month. A day that people in love with creepy can celebrate no matter what the calendar says, as long as it says Friday the 13th.

It's become a mini homage to the flip-side of life; the unseen and unexplained, draped in black and sometimes purple and orange.

But I don't think the Halloween loving F-13 people have pushed hard enough for their bonus holidays! 

In New Jersey when I was growing up, the day before Halloween was Mischief Night. That was when the older neighborhood kids that had grown out of trick-or-treating would TP, soap, and egg properties of unsuspecting people.

In our neighborhood it was always the mean neighbors that got that treatment and sometimes a yard or two that had the right tree placement in their yards to create an amazing display of TP art that would make Jenny Holzer proud.

Regardless, we would wake up Halloween morning with joy at wearing costumes and getting buckets of candy, but with an additional excitement of finding out what homes were the targets of Mischief Night perpetrators.

Back then, it was meant as either a joke or a community revenge that was accepted.

Now, I'm sure the tradition has died out due to damages to the homeowners and the newly found respect for toilet paper that Covid caused.

However, I say we bring back the spirit of Mischief Night for all the Halloween lovers that celebrate Friday the 13th's throughout the year.

Do you have a cantankerous office co-worker? On Friday the 13th, hide their pens and highlighters. Maybe unplug the handset from their desk phone or disconnect their computer from the office printer if you have time.

Do you have a know-it-all foreman? Hide his bullhorn or walkie-talkie. Slide his iPad under the seat of his work truck.

Do you work in a tool cage? On Friday the 13th only give out the right gloves to the buttheads.

A cashier? Intentionally mess up the mean customer's order and have to start over or take additional time (do it with a huge smile to really set their irritation level to high).

Work in a drive-thru? Make sure to forget the straws and napkins on the rude customers' orders.

Every mechanic knows the best revenge is hiding someone's 10MM socket.

Friday the 13th should be a day that mean-spirited, cranky curmudgeons everywhere get little harmless come-uppances and irritations that mirror the yuck they put into our world every day.

That way, we can get back some of the joy they steal from our respective worlds, and make Friday the 13th something to really look forward to. Besides, if all of the meanies were aware of F-13 retaliations, maybe they wouldn't be so obvious in spreading their ick.

Just a thought.

Happy Friday the 13th!

A Day of Remembrance

 

My grandparents had Pearl Harbor.

My parents had the Kennedy Assassination.

My generation has 9/11.

Events that shocked our nation and changed it forever both at home and on the world stage.

Despite what the country looks like right now; I will not forget.

I will not forget that we were broken beyond belief and had an opportunity to come back better... stronger... prouder.

Instead, we're devolving into chaos.

A chaos that December 7, 1941, November 22, 1963, and September 11, 2001 didn't produce in the immediate aftermath of their events.

But here we are. 

The greedy mindset pervading every last area of our lives and  run rampant as if looking out for just ourselves was ever the idea.

Thankfully, the 411 non-civilians listed in the meme above didn't think that way, or we could have subtracted their numbers and added so many more to the civilian numbers.

Twenty-three years later, America acts very much like it's forgotten that so many lost their lives. They died for the simple act of living an American lifestyle.

No one stopped these people and asked them what they believed or who they were related to or what their salaries were. No one was spared because of their ethnicity or gender or their political affiliations. 

None of it mattered. 

With our words we say we remember.

But, if we really remembered none of it would matter now just like it didn't then.

But we've forgotten.

We went through Covid's quarantine and this time, instead of coming together to mourn our losses, we emerged selfish and hateful and short-sighted as a nation. 

Our laws no longer protect the people, but condemn them for being people.

My only consolation is that none of the people we lost know what our nation has become.

Getting Back To It

 

She started with such promise.

And by she, I mean me.

I start a blog, go and unexpectedly write a book, and then start writing another book, and the poor little blog that re-started it all got pushed to the wayside.

My author's copies started arriving, being inscribed and signed and going back out; more are on the way for more 'in person' marketing. For those of you that don't know; finding online marketing that isn't trying to rape your wallet is nearly a full-time job of its own. 

This morning, I was over on Facebook and I reposted a meme with a novella attached as my comment on the repost. 

I knew right then and there that it had been too many days since I'd written.

The business side of authoring takes time. Today I got my '.com' and changed everything over on this site to put them together. With this all together now, I can go back to writing posts as well as working on the next book.

You know what else takes time?

Research.

Meditation.

Performing Reiki.

Basic self-care.

Attempting to not be a lousy partner.

Housework.

Anything that takes your mental-meltdown mind off of what you've been doing all day that caused your mental-meltdown to begin with.

Sleep. Sleep is a greedy, time-sucking bitch, to be honest.

And finally, my favorite non-writing pastime: learning the words to songs sung in a foreign language; which brings me to the above posted meme.

Oh, and you can now follow me on Facebook and Instagram and what used to be Twitter (Elon, you and the letter X need to get a room).

I'm worn out.

Time to respectfully massacre Perdon, Perdon.

I Wrote a Book

 I apologize to all of my readers for the delay in posting!

It was for a good reason: I wrote a book. 

I know I have a big thing about not monetizing this site. I stick to that, but since this is my own work, I will link to it.

That said, I must share the story of this book.

As I may have mentioned, I've been unemployed since March. After some self-examination, I decided that I was going to change occupations. Bookkeeping became overrun during Covid, and didn't seem to fit anymore.

I built my list. You know, the list, right? The list of things that I wanted from my new profession.

Can I just side note here and say that this was the first time I had ever done this? Build a full list of what I wanted from a job? I mean not just salary and hopefully decent insurance. Gen X people were not taught to make a list, ok? We were taught to be grateful that anyone would hire us and mostly to hope for a commute that wasn't a death sentence for our life outside our 'j.o.b.'. But, in reality, most of us just take whatever satisfies the financial requirements.

Anyway, with my first very specific 'list' in hand, I began to pray.

During my prayers one word kept going through my head, "How"?

I literally had no idea. I'd been in survival mode for so long, I didn't know how I was going to go after what seemed like a pretty big ask list; not with my undocumented skill sets. Definitely not in a new field that would require degrees or portfolios or both.

 To satisfy my list, I decided that I needed to go into something in the computer field; so, both. How do I pull this off? I do some research, I decided on a certificate program that looked attractive. I was confident that this was my 'how'.

It was Thursday and I decided to start the next Monday to take advantage of their first seven days free trial offer. I told everyone I knew about my plans over the weekend. I was enthusiastic, they were enthusiastic. I had my game plan.

That Monday morning, with coffee in hand, I kissed MyMan 'goodbye' for the school day and I entered the office ready to dive into learning. 

I sat down at my desk with the full intention of opening my browser.

The next thing I know, I have MS Word open...

I don't even know how long I was in the office, but I stumbled out of it with the original rough draft of twelve chapters completed.

Now, I've been writing for years; but never have I ever written twelve chapters in one sitting. 

Ever.

Writing a book had been a big lofty goal for many years, but honestly, I didn't think I had it in me. I have more discarded first chapters of the same two books I'd previously tried to write than I have blades of grass on my front lawn.

This book was completely unexpected. From the subject matter to the writing itself; it flowed from me with an ease I could not have imagined on my best day.

Well y'all, the paperback version of my 'unexpected' book dropped on Amazon today.

Kindle (available for pre-order now) and Ebook versions drop on Monday.

I am officially a published author.

I've already been gifted the 'how' of the second book, and the subject matter for the third.

Apparently, writing is my new direction.

Who knew?

God. God knew.

Hallelujah!