I worry

of the outcomes

Of every time someone told me not to worry.

(And I believed them)


I worry

About the future

When everything is running smoothly

And nobody suspects a thing



I pounce upon the problems

Like a Lioness upon her prey.

I am tough because I have to be

Never mind the ribs or hipbones that protrude on either side.

My heart still beats and I still have young ones who have yet to learn the way they must survive.


You worry when you see me

when I lick my wounds at night

when my bones are sharp upon me

an my eays capture wild flight

when my heart breaks into sorrow

you have given me new hope

because you worry, please don’t spend to much time on me


See to the people whom I might leave;

my young ones still need rearing

My loved ones still need love

Please I pray God

send someone much like me (but better)

to fill my shoes and more


Make them forget all about me so to end their suffering.

I don’t need to be remembered

As my job here hopefully is done- I hope I won’t be, because I want you moving on.

The ending

I wonder what people see

Do they only want

Do they glance to look at me

Like a ghost I haunt

Yet they don’t beleive

I am a whisper in the night

Youre here but then you leave

Like a fading light

Am I right or wrong?

Or am I a secret that you keep

I’m not all that strong

I pray that death is endless sleep


Odd gifts for and from odd people

image I gathered these flowers out of my garden yesterday, they remind me of babies breath, or Queen Anne’s lace, but they are smaller and more delicate than both of those.

It’s cilantro, I know it’s meant for cooking, but I don’t care. A long time ago I had a client who was into gardening, she brought me a whole bouquet of herbs tied together with a piece of string.

Odd little gifts like that are my all time favorite. I can name a few more; once an old lady gave me a small bag full of dried lavender flowers she grew in pots on her back porch, along with a dried bouquet of lavender also tied with a string.

Another client, not as old, had become childlike from Alzheimer’s, grew a whole gardens worth of plants for me because I told her I wanted a garden that summer. (I actually don’t think I told her that, ever, but I did appreciate the gift)

One client who had come in as a walk in, I’d put her in her mid 20’s, actually seemed like she was either crazy or messed up on drugs, it was especially awkward because of how she was acting, but I did her hair and listened to her strange rambling.

Months later she brought me a basket full of different kinds of cheese. She said she could only remember my kindness and patience with her, despite the fact that she was so out of her mind. For some reason she thought I would love a basket full of weird fancy cheese. ( which was also a welcomed gift despite the fact that I do not recall cheese ever being a topic of discussion on our first weird encounter. )

Anyways, I’ve been in a funk all day, feeling defeated. This weird little bunch of flowers in my kitchen reminded me of these odd gifts from equally odd people who might have been feeling just as out of place a I am now. The memory at least made me smile for a minute.

Let’s talk music; Janis Joplin

I woke up half way through the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. I was kinda craving a music marathon, but I knew it’d drive Adam nuts as he was sleeping.


I remembered there was a Janis Joplin documentary on Netflix that I’ve been considering.

I watched an old VH1 Behind the Music on her when I was in 7th or 8th grade, and only remembered her being bullied in school. (Probably because I could relate)

Really it was a downer, but good, she was filled with pain.

There is so much to be said but I’m just going to highlight the parts that really ‘spoke’ to me.

I LOVE that she actually had a really big heart. She grew up in a “good” town/family/school, but of course she was to different to fit it.

The “good” places nearly killed me growing up.

She got involved in the civil rights movement, the klan harassed her.

Her dream was to be beautiful and loved. Not rich and famous. Sadly she never felt beautiful or loved.

She fell in love with the lead singer of a band, they both got messed up on drugs and agreed to get sober before getting married, they did get sober, unfortunately he moved on and had a baby with another girl.

He later got her to join his band, and that’s how she became known. They played just because, didn’t charge for shows, then some movie company tried to film their concert and they wouldn’t have it.

It was because they were performing for free, they didn’t want someone making money off it. In the end they got a record contract, they actually weren’t that great. The band was sloppy and Janis was all over the place with her vocals, but they got better.

Her and her ex didn’t use drugs in the early days, people respected that. He navigated her through the industry knowing she’d be taken advantage of with out him.

Eventually she had to venture out on her own, she did okay, but really needed someone. Her loneliness and heartbreak is what drove her back to drugs.

Through it all she was always reaching out to people, she always wrote letters. I have a feeling her parent never truly accepted her as she was, she wrote them anyways.

We all know how it ends, but really I think it was the heartbreak that killed her, it just used drugs to do it.


Janis, I pray that you are at peace now.

Pig pin

I’ve been building this pig pin from salvaged wood. image Its not 100% complete yet, I still have to finish the railing at the top, and I think I’m going to build a roof over it to shield the poor lil guy from the sun.

Today I went through and touched up the paint, it was mostly black anyways, but all the wood spots were driving me crazy.

I’ve been using Rustolium (no idea if I spelled that right) flat black paint on all kinds of stuff, it’s messy but looks good and dries fast. I’d say it’s more of an eggshell finish.

I also attempted to take care of my garden, but it’s so hot out that I couldn’t do much.

For some reason I love building these little projects, the time flys by while I work, and it puts my mind at ease.

Well that’s all for now, just wanted to drop in for a min.

Putting Gizmo to bed


Gizmo was perched high in his cage on top the hollowed out log I bought him to hide under when he got scared.

The top of the log turned out to be his favorite spot for napping and sunbathing, as iguanas often do.


“Yes son?”

“What’s this?” He asked, holing up his left arm, his pupil dilated to focus on the flaky patch of skin on his shoulder.

“Your shedding your skin.” He tilted his head and asked;

“What is shedding?”

“When you grow out of your old skin it dies and falls off.”

“Why aren’t you shedding?”

“I do, but it’s invisible on humans, you’re a lizard.”

“What do you mean I’m a lizard? I thought we were the same! You said I was your little baby.”

“You are, I should have told you this so it didn’t come as a shock. Your adopted, remember when you lived in the pet store, then came home in a cardboard box?”

He scratched his head on the log and thought for a moment.


“Haven’t you noticed we don’t look the same?”

“We don’t?”

I could tell this was going to be a long conversation that neither of us were ready for so I reached in and rubbed his little head with my finger.

“Don’t worry lil Giz, I’ll explain everything when your old enough to understand.”

“aaaahhhh that feels good” he said as he slowly rest his head and closed his eyes drifting off to sleep.



image Pickles has dirt on his nose from playing outside in his pig pen. I tried in vain to clean that little nose but he wouldn’t have it.

The picture is him cuddling in my lap right now. Finally someone who appriciats all my home made blankets.

Here are both of my “lil piggies” being cuties. It’s hard to get a picture of them together unless I hold Pickles.

So I catch cute moments at weird angles with a pig on my lap, and of course as soon as they see my phone it’s just a blur of animal noses sniffing, or Abbie paws smacking at it.

I need to read up on pigs, they’re supposed to be intelligent.  The lady who sold him to me just runs her little pig farm in the middle of Amish country. She seemed to handle them amazingly well, so I know she’s spent a lot of time getting to know these creatures. Her opinion was that’s they were “kind of like 3 year olds.”

I feel like he’s a very easy going 1 year old. He cries when he doesn’t get his way, when he wants food, or he just wants someone. He got out of his baby gate twice yesterday b/c it was all wobbly from lil guy climbing over it.

Last night he just wanted someone, I tried to tell Abbie her baby wanted her but she was to tired.

I understand him always wanting someone, and being such a cuddly little guy, at the farm that’s all they did, lay with their brothers and sisters, all up next to the mom.

The pigs that were outside even stayed together, nudging each other, digging around in the dirt, perking up when they see people, I assume because it means food or attention.

They must be social, and intelligent. I wonder if pig families stay together like dolphins, whales, and monkeys.

I wonder if he’s like that lost baby duck in old cartoons that follows the other characters around saying “mama”

Like whoever takes care of him is his new “mama”

So many questions…

Ill let you know findings.