GoGo on a Page

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Location: Midwest, United States

"Power lines, my travlin' partner on this ride. Dripping, pulling - up and down, in this sing song, their lullaby blends with the swaying train. I curl myself into this journey; folding myself up into this pocket of time. Old familiars greet me - that swing set in the back yard, the ruins of an old church covered in new birth and old - mixed with unremembered newness." Journal Entry, October 13, 2005~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~All words are copyrighted by GoGo on a Page/gogoroku.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Goblin Quest by Jim C. Hines

Jim C. Hines is a friend of mine and author. The book below is a must read for the fantasy reader out there. I didn't want to just post a plug for a friend, but one hell of a writer too!
He doesn't know I am doing this, I wanted to surprise him. So buy the book and read it!

In the history of grand adventures, heroic quests, and noble battles, goblinkind has never been more than a footnote.
All that is about to change....
When Jig's patrol is ambushed by a group of adventurers, he does what goblins do best: throws down his weapon and surrenders. Thus begins Jig's quest, as the adventurers force him to serve as their guide through the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the mountain. Led by Prince Barius Wendelson, their goal is an ancient magical artifact, hidden here ages past.
As the group moves deeper into the tunnels, Jig finds himself face to face with creatures of goblin legend: ogres, trolls, not to mention the long-dead servants of the dreaded Necromancer, all leading to one final, deadly battle.
To survive, Jig will have to find a way to combine heroism with his own goblin ideals. The result is an unpredictable adventure that will leave readers cheering this unlikeliest of heroes and questioning the most basic traditions of fantasy quests.

Monday, November 27, 2006


I got tagged! Thanks Ruminating the Roses. My brain is fried tonight, so its not all that funny.

Three things that scare me: spiders (I’m trying to appreciate you), gossip, jumping my car.
Three people who make me laugh: Ellen DeGenerous, my friends (I can’t pick just one), and that guy from My Name is Earl…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Three things I love: Coffee, a good story, watching a movie with a close one.
Three things I hate dislike: dust bunnies, Teletubbies, being tired.
Three things I don't understand: denial of civil rights, homophobia, how to make links with blogger.
Three things on my desk: laptop, two huge mugs of pens, vase of sunflowers.
Three things I'm doing right now: in class not doing what I am suppose to be doing, writing out this meme, waiting for my prof to come over and answer my question.
Three things I want to do before I die: learn to fly a plane, live in another country, and publish a novel…okay publish many novels.
Three things I can do: crochet, make a great meal, and talk to a stranger. I just saw a commerical where kids were reminded to not talk to strangers...and I thought to myself, "I'm glad I get to talk to strangers now. :)
Three things I can't do: Remember people’s names the first time I meet them, get through a bike season without getting into an accident, and eat cooked spinach from a can by itself.
Three things you should listen to: your inner voice, people you trust, the wind and water. I totally stole these.
Three things you should never listen to: hate speech, insults, George W. Bush on an empty stomach.
Three things I'd like to learn: Fly a plane, paint the human form, play a guitar.
Three favorite foods: Peas, “American Chop Suey” from Happy House in my hometown, fresh salad complete with fresh picked peas.
Three beverages I drink regularly: water, coffee, Tea (a variety).
Three TV shows I watched as a kid: the Muppet Show, Growing Pains…I’ll admit it: Night Rider.

Um, who to tag? Bug and Stonetree.

All right, I have to focus on class now!


Sunday, November 26, 2006

Transition Chapter: That's Micken High

I’m feeling a little off today. A little on the bluesy side complete with the hood up and my favorite socks wrapped around my toes. I’m not telling you what my favorite socks look like. Its not sad or blue in a sense, it’s more like I’m coming up to that cliff I’ve been working towards with school, and my chest’s feeling a little pressed. It’s not a bad feeling to have at all really, if there are bad feelings to have.

See, I have two weeks left of this semester and a “rear” load of things to get done, winter break, and then it’s my last semester. By May, I’ll have received my Master’s in Social Work and my goals for the last two years complete. Woot….no wait, no celebrating yet. Graduation is not the end of this little school thing I’ve been doing. There is the job search, hoping in London, but at some point I need to post about the many problems I am having with that. There is licensing exam here and in London. There is much to do. Being prepared is 50% foresight, and I even wrote on my calendar that today I would switch focus from “getting through school” to "What happens next". I’m not ready. I’ve decided to hold the sentiment off until tomorrow.

Hmm. I started this blog around the time I started school, so in a sense those of you who have read my blog have been witness to the experience. Don’t go running to read the back posts, I’ll sum them up – I’m tired, I have much work to do, I’ve made a list, I’m tiredwork, internship, school, oh my. Chuckle.

I’m a blessed person. I have a job waiting for me at a Psychological Center a friend of mine runs, if I want it. I’ve met great folks in the program who I look forward to know as my peers in the working world, in all the various ways we will work. I am finally getting that promotion at work by the end of December, the one I’ve been doing already. I have an excellent resume, myriad more skills then most at this stage of the game. I have a few professors who will give me a reference when I go onto to get that doctorate. I’ve worked hard to get where I am going. The road forward will be just fine. With that said, today I feel like a diver about to come to the edge of the board. I know how to dive. I’ve prepared and am ready. It’s time to jump. Boi, this still looks a little too high.


P.S. I am so not anal retentive for writing a game plan on my calendar.


Saturday, November 25, 2006

Sunday Scribblings: Nemesis

Prompt #35 for Sunday Scribblings inspired by Xegbp: Nemesis

I adore my Nemesis. I call her Nemi for short. She came into my life because my friend Fer loved her, and they were best friends in High School who became lovers and partners. I met Fer in College, and she was a part of a Rat Pack of folks I hung out with. We all had nicknames for one another. They didn't call me GoGo. At that time my name was Mandu and sometimes came with the tag line...Thee Mighty. Fer gave me the name Mandu. I am not sure where the "mighty" came from except I'm the type of person who can pull a rabbit out of a hat if I need to.

Anyway, I named Nemesis her nickname because she has always been outspoken with the truth we friends need to hear. She one time asked me if she was too rough, in which I deferreded, "I never want you to stop being my nemesis." The name has stuck since.

Ah, how do I tell the stories of my Nemesis? This woman has called me a sheep, told me to stop smoking, referenced my loner abilities as "one way for no one to notice your master plan", and has pretty much called me out every chance she gets. However, even as I say this, I have never felt berated or unloved, nor has she acted with intentions to hurt with passive aggressive judgments. Nemesis is simply being true to form, the antithesis of misdirection. She earned the grace of candid honesty because of our herstory together. There are few people who can get away with "saying it like it is" and Nemi is one of them for me. I hope I have been a good of a friend as she has been for me.

I am glad I am friends with my Nemesis. Of course, this friendship isn't all about me. As a good friendship should be, we wax and wane in what we talk about and what we are for one another. She hasn't called me out in years... for the most part. The nickname just stuck, like Fer and Nemi still call me Mandu even though we've been out of college and living away from each other for years. We've grown up and away and our conversations have dwindled to pockets of time when one or the other is heading through each others towns OR we want to check in, but we still call each other our nicknames.

When I read the post prompt for Sunday Scribblings this week, I knew exactly who my Nemesis was and fondly remembered my Nemi for the beauty of her in my life. She is also one hell of a writer, tells wonderful stories, and is one of those people I appreciate because we can laugh together.

Thank you for being the pokey stick in my life, Nemi! Fer, you know your the dill sauce. :O).

My Love,

Friday, November 24, 2006

chapter thirty: what did you say?

Sitting on the couch, watching “Please Don't Eat the Daisies" with my Dad, my brother is fiddling with some electronic thingamagig while my sister sits next to me.

“I like Doris Day”, my father says rocking in his rocking chair. Doris’ character just finished a fast paced dialogue with another character and we chuckle.

I came out to my parents years ago, while sitting at the dining room table. My hair was shaved and my Mother wasn’t pleased that I had no hair. I remember pulling in my breath, filling my veins with as much oxygen for my rapid beating heart, and came out. “Mom, Dad, if you don’t like my hair I wonder how you’ll feel about the fact that I am gay?” The response is genuinely my family, “We love you, no matter what, we will always love you.” and then the work began.

“Doris is going to sing,” I say to Dad. I get excited because though my Dad and I have little in common we both have agreed that music will be the string that connects us.

“You two are weird liking old movies,” my brother interjects moving over to Dad to show him the electronic thing.

“Your switch is upside down,” Dad tells him. “Which wire do you think you’ll have to disconnect?”

“This one”, my little brother responds then goes back to sitting crossed leg on the floor working on his project.

“And your sister and I like Doris Day. That doesn’t make us weird.”

Since coming out, my parents have asked me not to tell my brother or sister. They were afraid that if people “found out” they would get teased and beat up. Though I have learned that the way to understanding is to let others do what they will do and not change the self to accommodate, I respected their request. I don’t believe that folks should just understand something the moment they are exposed to it. I don’t hold it against my parents that they are afraid of me because of my sexuality like I don’t hold it against myself all those things I need time to understand for myself. Committed to the long-term relationship with my family, I am patient with this journey of understanding and question their pretense with love and care every chance I get. THEN I process my feelings with close friends who are on a similar journey with their family.

“Do you think the store clerk is gay?” My Dad asks me as we watch Doris pick out fabric for the new home.

“I don’t know. Do you think he’s gay because he is a male working in a fabric store?” I answer, patiently.

“Well, you know if this movie was made today, they would make the character obviously gay.” My Dad responds, pauses and then says, “Do you ever get mad that people make gay people stereotypically gay on TV?”

I am shocked. I don’t know how to respond. There are so many ways to respond. “I…I” I try to say something, becoming very conscious of my sister and brother in the room. Very conscious that this is my father’s attempt to be open about me, very conscious that I feel responsible to do things right with all of this and not knowing how.

“I get so mad when they make fun of gay people on TV.” My Dad ignores my stumbling while we both keep our eyes on Doris running and talking and singing. “I hope it doesn’t hurt your feelings when they do it on TV.”

I am quietly dumbfounded and caught off guard. My brain wants to control this moment, my heart tells me to let it be as is, to trust it will be okay.

“Why would it hurt [GoGo]’s feelings, Dad?” Little Bo chimes up. He has completely taken his electronic thing apart and is starting over.

“Because she’s gay, you squirt”. My sister who has been engrossed in the movie the entire time speaks up and tells him.

I can feel my mouth is opened, eye brows raised, and I think I stopped breathing.

“Oh yeah, I knew that.” Little Bo says at me then looks at my sister, “Don’t call me a little squirt, just ‘cause your older doesn’t mean you can call me names.”

“[Little Bo], why did you take the whole board apart again? You just had to remove the wire and flip the switch,” Dad tells my little Bo.

"Because I want to do it the way I want to." Bo tells Dad, rolling his eyes like he couldn't possibly understand. Go Bo! Little Bo is on the verge of moving from kid to teenager and suddenly he seems to know more then anyone else. I remember those years.

“I thought you weren’t telling them I was gay, Dad?” I kind of blurt out in a whisper, like Bo and my sister wouldn’t hear as Doris begins to sing “Please Don’t Eat the Daisies” to a school yard of kids.

“Why wouldn’t I? There is nothing wrong with you being gay.”


Saturday, November 18, 2006

working out the brain bubble, working out the knot

Yep, it’s writer’s block. There are thoughts in the head, but when I type them out I get disinterested mid-sentence. I’m trying to write the hero piece for Sunday Scribbles. Nothing. No, excuse me. There is much of something, but its not coming out.

For me, writer’s block is like a cricket chirping in the head. No, not literally. And its not a group of crickets either blending into one another. It’s a single cricket, stuck under the floor boards making all concentration impossible. I’ve had this before, and when over, I’ll have it again.

I am writing. Nothing suitable for this page though. Its pieces and parcels. The writer in me who likes to practice on this page is frustrated. If you’re a writer, you know there is always something brewing inside that begs to come out. Even if its whispers and hints of something, there is always the potential for words that want to be freed. When the connection is blocked or disconnected, even for a minute, it can feel like eternity. I’m not saying I’m all that as a writer, and believe you/me I’m sure there are critics waiting in the wings to confirm my lack there of, but good or bad I AM A WRITER. Without words, I feel a little lost. No, not literally. I can still find my way home in the late evening, thank you. More like a little piece of this self is missing and the Amber Alert isn’t coming on quick enough.

True to form, I thought I’d share the process. I was kinda hoping that writing this piece would spur something else, but now I’m just interested in searching utube for cricket videos.

And even in all this frustration, this piece gave me a smile.


P.S. The snow did not stick. It was greener then the last day of summer the next day! My new rule, no posting about snow until I see a blanket of it outside my window.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

dancing the waltz with time: it's snowing!

Time took back her ever present ticking
slowed down.
Time gave me her hands
we dance a slow paced waltz,
neither leading nor falling behind.
I’m currently at the library, helping a fellow student/friend with an SPSS program for that pesky research class. I found I had time to write, so thought I would put a few thoughts to the page, but realize I still don’t have much to say. I have a few pieces twirling in my head, but they’re not ready for this page. Time has been good to me this week and I’ve been reorganizing my home, so when winter break comes, I can focus on other things. It’s finally snowing that snow that’s gonna stay, and I feel completely content.

I’m going back to helping my friend who wants to be referred to as sassy Chocolate. I hope to post a piece for Thanksgiving, but…just in case.

Happy Thanksgiving!!


Wednesday, November 15, 2006

an interesting find this morning

If interested in signing the petition, please go here.

November 14th, 2006

To My Conservative Brothers and Sisters,

I know you are dismayed and disheartened at the results of last week's election. You're worried that the country is heading toward a very bad place you don't want it to go. Your 12-year Republican Revolution has ended with so much yet to do, so many promises left unfulfilled. You are in a funk, and I understand.

Well, cheer up, my friends! Do not despair. I have good news for you. I, and the millions of others who are now in charge with our Democratic Congress, have a pledge we would like to make to you, a list of promises that we offer you because we value you as our fellow Americans. You deserve to know what we plan to do with our newfound power -- and, to be specific, what we will do to you and for you.

Thus, here is our Liberal's Pledge to Disheartened Conservatives:Dear Conservatives and Republicans, I, and my fellow signatories, hereby make these promises to you:

1. We will always respect you for your conservative beliefs. We will never, ever, call you "unpatriotic" simply because you disagree with us. In fact, we encourage you to dissent and disagree with us.

2. We will let you marry whomever you want, even when some of us consider your behavior to be "different" or "immoral." Who you marry is none of our business. Love and be in love -- it's a wonderful gift.

3. We will not spend your grandchildren's money on our personal whims or to enrich our friends. It's your checkbook, too, and we will balance it for you.

4. When we soon bring our sons and daughters home from Iraq, we will bring your sons and daughters home, too. They deserve to live. We promise never to send your kids off to war based on either a mistake or a lie.

5. When we make America the last Western democracy to have universal health coverage, and all Americans are able to get help when they fall ill, we promise that you, too, will be able to see a doctor, regardless of your ability to pay. And when stem cell research delivers treatments and cures for diseases that affect you and your loved ones, we'll make sure those advances are available to you and your family, too.

6. Even though you have opposed environmental regulation, when we clean up our air and water, we, the Democratic majority, will let you, too, breathe the cleaner air and drink the purer water.

7. Should a mass murderer ever kill 3,000 people on our soil, we will devote every single resource to tracking him down and bringing him to justice. Immediately. We will protect you.

8. We will never stick our nose in your bedroom or your womb. What you do there as consenting adults is your business. We will continue to count your age from the moment you were born, not the moment you were conceived.

9. We will not take away your hunting guns. If you need an automatic weapon or a handgun to kill a bird or a deer, then you really aren't much of a hunter and you should, perhaps, pick up another sport. We will make our streets and schools as free as we can from these weapons and we will protect your children just as we would protect ours.

10. When we raise the minimum wage, we will pay you -- and your employees -- that new wage, too. When women are finally paid what men make, we will pay conservative women that wage, too.

11. We will respect your religious beliefs, even when you don't put those beliefs into practice. In fact, we will actively seek to promote your most radical religious beliefs ("Blessed are the poor," "Blessed are the peacemakers," "Love your enemies," "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God," and "Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."). We will let people in other countries know that God doesn't just bless America, he blesses everyone. We will discourage religious intolerance and fanaticism -- starting with the fanaticism here at home, thus setting a good example for the rest of the world.

12. We will not tolerate politicians who are corrupt and who are bought and paid for by the rich. We will go after any elected leader who puts him or herself ahead of the people. And we promise you we will go after the corrupt politicians on our side FIRST. If we fail to do this, we need you to call us on it. Simply because we are in power does not giveus the right to turn our heads the other way when our party goes astray. Please perform this important duty as the loyal opposition.

I promise all of the above to you because this is your country, too. You are every bit as American as we are. We are all in this together. We sink or swim as one. Thank you for your years of service to this country and for giving us the opportunity to see if we can make things a bit better for our 300 million fellow Americans -- and for the restof the world.


GoGo on a Page


Sunday, November 12, 2006

Sunday Scribblings: "There's a reststop up ahead."

Sunday Scribbles Prompt: "I don't want to be a passenger in my own life." (Diane Ackerman)

This quote reminded me of a journal entry I wrote a few years back while traveling somewhere with a friend. A random piece reflecting the moment written, at the moment read became something more. I think its appropriate for today's prompt. Ackerman's quote sounds nice. I do not want to be a passive rider in my life, watching my life move then moving it. I want to be at the helm, the driver's seat, in charge! Everything I do, I've done. Still, I know it's more then this self. I am in control, yet I have no control at all. For me, its better to be all parts of life - the driver, passenger, navigator, restroom spotter, back seat sleeper. Um, to be honest, I am trying to learn this still. Anyway, the quote reminded me of this entry I happened to come across a few weeks ago while dusting the shelf where this particular journal lives. ~GoGo

Yielding to a change of pace, I step out of the driver seat. It’s time to let [someone else] drive for a while. It’s been a long road tonight. Getting from one place to another, time seemed an extra long stretch as the car drove through the expanse. The weather laughed and cried, like a labile child learning her own spectrum of emotions in the course of the day. As a driver, concentration is on the road, speed, other cars, twists and turns, and all the decisions that are made as fast as thoughts in the head. I love this role. It is a good role when one is confident in the attempt. When one knows how to be the driver, one never has to worry about waiting for someone else to drive. But to only drive...how can I watch that patch of wildflowers coming up on the side, and how about the power lines begging for someone to read each measure for their music? How can I catch those deer always spotted on the periphery of the drive?

After hours of driving this time, I am glad to step out of the driver's seat and trust my fellow traveler to take a turn. Letting these eyes mold to the scenery passing by, I am glad to be a passenger for a while.

~Journal Entry May, 2005~

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Friday, November 10, 2006

did someone say O?

Ooh crap, Got busy these last two days, and look I got another tag. I hope I’m not too late.

10 wonderful things that start with O:
October. It’s a good month.
Olive oil, I love cooking and I love using different oils – sunflower, peanut, etc. – but my fave will always be Olive Oil….and lets not forget about Popeye’s gyrlfriend…she’s totally cool.
Oxygen, seeing that most species are addicted to the substance and cannot live without it, I guess it’s a wonderful thing. Especially in those moments after running when the body presses hard for more. The magazine's not so bad either.
Oprah. I just saw this lady on the cover of her own magazine and all I can say is: She micken rocks. I mean come on, her own TV show, zine, AND television network…absolute respect. Not because she is a huge business success, mind you, because through it all she represents growth, love, insight, education, integrity (the real kind), and inspiration.
Onions. Hey, I’m a cook and love the various kinds of onions out there. I’m like that guy in the movie Best in Show, but instead of repeating nuts, I can tell you onions…red onion, white onion, sweet onion, vadallia….
Ooh, used to express amazement or joy. I just love it when in a conversation someone goes, “ooh,” with such sheer surprise, and in particular when more then one person does it at the same time.
Operation game. When the guys nose lights up, I’m all a giggle. Unless it keeps lighting up….oye, I hate it when it keeps lighting up. Its sucks when it keeps lighting up…okay never mind. I’m taking it back.
Oboe. It’s a nice instrument. The delicate sounds, the squeaks, the fact that the cute little duck from Peter and the Wolf was represented by the oboe.
One, the song by U2. It’s a good song.
Orgasm. Of course, I was going to say this one and leave it for last.

Five bad things that start with O:
Oil spills. This includes spills that come from boats, PIPES, cars, trains, and planes.
Obtuse, the word itself. It just reminds me of one time in high school, when folks learned the definition in a math class and then everyone went around saying “You’re so obtuse.” Group think has ruined the word, forever…they were so obtuse. ;)
jell-O Let face it, without the O, its just Jell and that sums up the whole deal. So, here I think the whole problem with jell-o starts with the O b/c it takes away the focus from what we are really eating.
Operation. Though the game is fun, the actual event is not, unless you’re a surgeon. And let’s not forget when the nose keeps lighting up.
Obey. Unless you’re into that kind of thing…who wants to be the one who has to obey anything or anyon. OR be the one to get obeyed. Just not my thing.

Okay, so bug tag someone for P, but if in case it does fly, I’m tagging

P Bending Peak (I just want to see if the puffy dress is on the list)
Q Daring to Write (if anyone can do Q, its you!)
R Ruminating in the Roses (Your name, says it all)
S Two Dykes and their cast of Thousands (Yeah, your it).


Wednesday, November 08, 2006

the state of things

I got nothing. I’ve been reading more then thinking in terms of writing these days. It’s a dry spell. Looks like its time collect. I even went for my usual walk in the woods to inspire this gyrl….I got wet feet. ;)

Seriously, I have absolutely nothing to write about. That’s not a bad thing. Just the state of things.

Speaking of the State of things….I watched the election result last night like it was Christmas and they were going to tell me any moment that Santa was sighted over my town. I popped popcorn and said things like "Tell me again, how many seats do we need, you bad boi."

There was a point though that the numbers creeping on the screen was just too damn slow, so I went to bed hoping that Santa would bring me something special in the morning. I seriously was this mischevious kid excited to see if I was getting an elephant or donkey?

How about that? Looks like I had something to say after all.


Tuesday, November 07, 2006

hey you guys!!!

Hmm. It’s a rainy day. Everything is wet – the trees, the grass, the street…the air. This kind of grey misty day reminds me of the movie Goonies (1985). I don’t know why, but on days like this I want to go on a treasure hunt down tunnels and into caves, while avoiding the booby-traps….or is it boodie-traps?

Fall is hanging on with all her might. The only difference between a wet fall day and a spring day today are the number of leaves still hanging on the trees. By winter, they will have released their connection to the tree and by spring the last remaining stragglers will look wrinkled and imploded.

Don’t forget to vote. I did.

Monday, November 06, 2006

it's 50 degrees!

Um, I think I was premature on the snow thing last week. Yes, it was snowing – lots of furry balls of whiteness. It did not stick, however. In fact, it’s a balmy 50 degrees today, sunny, and non-coat comfortable. Yeah, I jumped ahead of myself. It was a nice picture. I’m keeping it around for the first day the snow sticks and the ground is blanketed.

Keeping with my mantra these days, I’m busy. I have to finish up a paper tonight. I’ve done all the research, created the mental outline, and even found a leader quote to put on the title page. I’m getting good at creating and polishing a paper before it even gets written on the page. I’m not saying I am all that. I’m not. I’m just good at bringing things together on a page and getting a grade that will continue me forward to graduation. Whatever. I have a paper to write, class to go to, and the paper to finish. That’s my world on a balmy non-snow day here in the Midwest of living.

Friday, November 03, 2006

It's Snowing

I drew a picture to mark this special occassion. Happy Snow Dayz! ~GoGo

Thursday, November 02, 2006


Muppet Show Intro

Working late at the library...later then I wanted late, and its gonna get later. So, what else can a GoGo do, but take a break and watch this! I love this show!

12:24am: I am now trying to adopt a microbe before I actually get back to work!

Have a good night.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Sunday Scribbling: Morning

I am procrastinating today, so thought I would do this week's Sunday Scribblings early. My rule for SS is to write something head to hand for the most part. Its an ice breaker for the mind. When I think of mornings this is what came to me, and I fell in love with the morning even more. Thanks Sunday Scribblings for an always fun and stretching exercise! ~GoGo

Morning. The crack of dawn, glow ball of light creeping up the horizon. I have spent many days driving home at dawn, watching the sky turn fiery shades of orange, exhausted and ready for bed. I often wonder these days if I have had too much sunrise in my life, then looking forward in my days know I have not had enough. Memory tells me of staying up in close proximity to friends and love ones waiting for the emanating beauty of that sunrise. She offers me moments when once I woke up by dawn’s light comfortably close in bed. She tells me how dawn captures everything new in the world.

Morning. Fresh brewed coffee steeping in kitchens. That ritual of bathrobe, coffee and newspaper or magazine, missed these days, harbor a warm place in the mornings of my life. Cutting out the rushed routine of living, it’s the right cup of Joe – earthy, warm, and full bodied dark – that slows down time and me with it. That cup of really bad java at the diner with a mixture of friends who know how to laugh, or on the road when this self becomes a traveler stopping on the side of the road for the first cup of brew before heading into the between that lives on roads traveled. Morning and coffee are good to me.

Morning. The stretch of the body getting taller, arms spread out, back arched, butt tightly squeezed as the body yawns. There is nothing like the morning stretch. Nothing like waking in the day’s dawn and welcoming the conscious back into the body.

Morning. Years spent kind of sleeping through it, preferring the harbor of late night living and early afternoon rising, I have come to appreciate the morning for the graceful beauty it is. Entering the full fledge workforce, morning was this blasphemes thing that welcomed in horrid routine and low-ceiling living of a paycheck. I have since given up that world, so I could love the morning for what she is. She is a good thing.

Everyone is welcomed to participate in Sunday Scribblings. Please go here to check other author's post this week.

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