Group projects

I’ve been brainstorming;

I posted this idea on another website, I’m going to keep trying to find people to get it started…

Creative people with a variety of talents work on one shared project.

The idea is to show your talent, meet people, and have fun. Fun being most important. The participants could use one talent, or several. I can match people up, or pass the project around to everyone (keeping in mind there may be limitations on projects that are physically hard to transport)

This could be:

-a few small craft projects for the group to keep in the end.

-a writing project


-digital media

anything really, anything,

If anyone’s interested just let me know in the comments below.



Feeling greatful

I don’t have much to say today, I’ve been in bed sick the entire day, the past few hours I have been able to get up and move around.

It has been creeping up on me for the past 3 days, I kept feeling sick, but last night it really kicked my butt, burning up and cold shivers, aching all over.

As miserable as I was, I feel so grateful, a friend of mine picked up the kids from school, and lil fella was like my nurse when he got home. Lil guy just did his best to behave, and that’s good enough for me.

I feel so greatful for the people who care about me right now, and that for the most part I usually have a healthy body. Even now, I don’t feel good, but just to feel a little bit better makes all the difference.



What are the odds?

I keep having set backs for the past few days, I have tried to not let it bother me.

This morning was one after another, and I don’t know if it’s done yet.

The last thing, I went to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription that my dr. Called in. As they checked me out at the counter they began saying that my insurance didn’t go through, and several of my medications were expensive.

( I have no insurance, and my one prescription, I thought was going to be cheap)

I just had to interrupt, I gave her my name, she had the right name, I told her my dr. Just sent it in this morning, she confirmed that. I told her the exact medication, the one I should be picking up.

Turns out another person with my name, had also just went to their dr. And now use my pharmacy all at the same time. What are the odds?!?

I wondered if I’d see this person befor I left, I don’t think I did, but it sounded like their day was way more complicated than my own.

I know I was told a lot of confidential stuff, but I didn’t understand a lick of it.

I like to think maybe the other version of me might bennifit from me at least sorting that one detail out for them, otherwise they might have gotten confused for me, told they have one prescription and no insurance, only to discover all the worse news meant for them afterwards.


Finding a safe place

Ive had a feeling lately that it’s time to retreat inward for a while.

Not in sad way, but as a safeguard from all the media, talk, and general negativity that is almost everywhere at the moment.

Overall my creativity and productivity has increased just slightly, which feels great. I wish some other people would join me in this, sadly all my invitations have been declined.

But I’ll be looking forward to having something to show for myself later on, when all the dust settles and people return to their normal selfs.


A rare calm moment with Lil Guy yesterday. 

I had a lot that was bottled inside, couldn’t express it
And this pain won’t leave, I can feel the depression
It’s taking over my body, feels like I’m always stressing
Doctor told me I should sleep, but I’m always restless
I lay awake at night and think, my thoughts are relentless
I need a moment to breathe, I need a moment to vent this
I seem to be the only person that I play pretend with
And when I turn the music off, what am I really left with huh?



I feel it.

Nights, years, making it to the dr, …  “try a memory foam pillow”

? …… . ….. . ?

what’s wrong?

I have made a slight inward turn.

I will not take it out on anyone.

I’m hurt, so are other people.

A few understand, others will never know




New writing

I’m extremely happy to say for the past two days I have worked on a book I started writing several years ago. I’d explain more, but I don’t want to keep you hear wasting time.

I do however, technically, have to credit the artist of the song my characters play, it’s ‘Run to the hills’ by Iron Maiden.

That’s all, now for the story. (apologies for this being the unedited, not even proof read version)

                                                        Run For the Hills                                                                       


The boy, wrapped in thin hospital sheets that offered very little warmth, stared blankly out the window into the mountain side. It was mid-November now, and although nobody else was there to share the grand view, he felt a strange presence, as if someone like him, whose eyes had been so well adapted to the dark of night, whose completion is so pale it almost glowed, it felt as if someone was right behind him, breathing down his neck. He could see the color of the leaves that had begun to change, the backdrop of night sky heightened his senses, and so there would be no sleeping tonight.

With a shiver going up his spine he turned to only see Nurse Rita, slow and sluggish, wheeling another patient down the hall, this one too hardly looked alive.

“Maybe something is going on.” He thought to himself, this had been the third time he seen her wheeling someone so fast asleep down the hallway.

“I just need a little fresh air” he said to himself as he cranked the rusted old window open. It squealed out as if it were in pain, echoing down the hall ways. A gush of crisp air rushed in, through the sheets, and over his body.

“You okay in there?” he heard Rita call out from the distance, she must’ve been to busy, or to lazy to come check for herself.

“I’m not doing your job for you.” he muttered under his breath, suddenly, as if on que, he wondered for a moment if she had heard him.

A thumping drum beat rang out over the intercom system, the boy jumped to his feet, his heart pounded in his chest, more drums joined in right outside his room. He stumbled into the hall way to see three boys, mirror images of himself, slapping the drums in rhythm with the song.

His eyes wide with excitement and confusion, almost a panic, “What’s going on here?” he yelled, they only seemed to be laughing. He couldn’t hear the sound of his own voice over the drumming; over the intercom came a few screeching guitar riffs joined with a foreboding voice that began telling a very familiar story.

White men came across the sea, he brought us pain and misery, he killed our tribe he killed our creed

Suddenly realizing he was the butt of some odd joke, he couldn’t figure out if he knew these boys, but they clearly knew him. He couldn’t decide if was offended of flattered. In unison the three drummers stopped to sing out;

Oh will we ever be set free

                They dropped their drums and began dramatically lip syncing to the song while acting out the scenes.

Riding through dustclouds and barren wastes

They did a sort of bow legged gallop around the boy as if they were on horse back

Chasing the red skins back to their holes, fighting them at their own game, murder for freedom, a stab in the back,

                One boy acted out the stabbing, another played the victim, falling to his knees.

The boy could do nothing but hold his head, tears streaming down his face from laughter, this really wasn’t funny, but it was.

All three join in the chorus

Run to the hills, run for your lives,

                As if this wasn’t enough, flashes of light, sparks and smoke began igniting, the boys had timed out a fireworks display inside the halls of the hospital, flashes of blue and green light blinded the boy, shielding his eyes, still laughing while also having a near heart attack.

During the solo/ fireworks chorography the oldest of the trio held up a sight that read “THE HILLS” and had an arrow pointing down the smoky corridors.

He dropped the sign as the music rang out, and they began running, the boys legs felt as if they had dried in concrete, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even send the signal from his brain to his legs. They youngest boy turned back, and grabbed his hand, suddenly they were both running in unison to each other and the song.

They arrived at a turning point with perfect timing, it couldn’t have been planned better, they faced the boy and sang out the last

                Run for your liiifffeee

                They dropped to the floor with the end of the song, bodies convulsing in waves of uncontrollable laughter. The little one held his sides rolling and crying “I have to pee… so… bad… “

Just when the boy thought this prank was over, something lit in the fog and smoke, lights, then Rita appeared carrying a cake with the words “Happy birthday ‘Clyde’” scrolled across.

“What is this?”

“It’s your birthday! Blow out the candles and make a wish!” the littlest doppelganger yelled from the floor.

“What do mean wish, what’s a birthday?”

“Just blow out the candles!” another boy yelled.

Not expecting what was next the boy exhaled the last bit of air in his lungs and as the candles flames were extinguished came yet another tiny explosion from within the cake, splattering cake and frosting all over his face.

The kids roared with more laughter as the poor boy wiped cake debris from his face saying “ I don’t know why no one warned me out this birthday thing you people, but it would’ve been nice to know!”

The little one, still sprawled out on the floor, began to lick up bits of cake and frosting explaining “It’s called a surprise, if you knew about it the surprise would be ruined!”

“Well I most defiantly did not know anything about this!” he responded.

Rita returned to stern expression “Alright, come on Sunny up off the floor, we really do have to get out of here. The funs over.”

“Wait, don’t leave!”

“Oh, you’re coming us too.”

“I am?” he asked.

“We’re bustin’ ya outta here!” exclaimed Sunny, jumping to his feet and tugging at the boys arm.

“Wait, my things!” the boy turned to go back to his room.

“We don’t have the time, come on, we’ll get you anything you need. First shifts due in any second now.”

Rita wrapped her are around the boys shoulder leading him down the dark hallway to a door she unlocked with a swipe of her badge, next came a creaky metal staircase and the cold pavement outside. They walked directly through the group of patients, partially sleeping, and some of them muttering.

“What’s wrong with them?” the boy turned, but was pulled forward by Ritas strong arms.

“Don’t worry about them, they’ll be okay.” It now became clear to him that they were drugged and removed from the hospital to prevent the kind of confusion and excitement that Rita did not want for the birthday surprise.

“There’s a lot to explain.”

Sunny opened the back door of a trashed minivan, “Can he sit with me? Please…” He begged with big sad eyes gleaming up at the boy and Rita.

“Oh all right.” Rita said. The oldest boy pushed past them, throwing himself into the back seat of the van. Sunny, and the boy slid into the middle seat, and Rita in the driver’s seat. The middle boy came flying feet first, through the window, and crashing into the passenger side.

Rita turned the van around and began driving towards the exit, as they passed the crowd of drugged patients, the middle boy still hanging half out the window sang to them “run for your life’s”!

Rita jerked him down by his shirt tail, “Knock it off, that’s not funny at all”. She began rolling his window up with the control on her side. He faked helplessness as his arms and hands were getting stuck in the window.

“Why’d you have to do that?” he yelled at her, much to the boys surprise. He’d never imagined anyone having the nerve to yell at Rita. Then again, he never could have imagined Rita giving him and exploding cake, or breaking him out of the hospital.

The middle boy sulked in the front seat, feeling sorry for himself while Rita, silent and stone faced as usual continued driving. The boy was now seeing her in a new light, as she was, as a mother, the oldest one in the back yawned and stretched as he rolled over, and Sunny simply laid his head delicately on the boys lap. He closed his eyes and began sucking his thumb.

Within only a few minutes he and Rita were the only two still awake, other than the gentle breathing of the sleeping children, the ride was silent, and into the dark they drove.




Reading habits and missing subject mater

I am a slow, but continuous reader. I do read a lot, mostly in bits and pieces because my concentration has been off for several years.

The bright side to this is that I end up sampling a ton of material!

I have come up with some ideas that I wish people would write about.

1. I find self help/ inspirational/ new agey stuff to be helpful up to a certain point, I’d really like someone to blend this type of writing with parenting and family advice.

2. I read a lot about parenting and child psychology, and have tried to read about raising adopted children, why is it so hard to find a book about raising adopted children that were not adopted a birth?!?!?!?!?!

This is absurd to me because raising a child from birth seem completely different than jumping in once everyone else had a try at it.  I’d write the book myself if I had enough answers to write about. It needs to be out there!

3. I am a fan of young adult books, mostly because they are more imaginative and entertaining. The characters are always more relatable and the book in general are just more enjoyable, but why is that they all have to be full of action non stop? It’s exhausting!

4. And this isn’t a book, but I really enjoy reading blogs, all kinds. Recently I find it hard to find blogs to read, adds have over run everything online. It’s even hard to search things here on WordPress, it used to be so easy, we should reclaim the Internet from the corporate world! I just have no idea how to get that started.