Rubik's Cube (to whom it may concern)

I could never solve the Rubik's Cube , and probably never will
I'm not good at puzzles, and I wasn't good at solving you either
In hindsight I know that I should not have tried

It's just that sometimes it is worth the effort, the effort to dig deeper
To touch the very soul of a person and feel the fire that burns within
To peel back the layers and get to the heart
The heart which is the essence of who they are

I'm really not sure what you wanted
But I think you wanted a friend
And that is why you were there
Sitting on my fence
Beckoning me to come out and talk to you

But I was afraid of the dark



~Lia

I'm not an artist , things kids say, and an old picture of me

Most of you know that I look after my granddaughter . Every day I have to find things to do to keep her entertained since she is still of preschool age.  The other day I got the paints out and we decided to paint on styrofoam plates .  Now most of you know (if you have read my blog for awhile) that I in no way shape or form consider myself an artist. I mean, I cannot even draw a decent stick man, much less paint a picture.  But I will sit with her and "pretend" to paint just to encourage her artistic side.  She has actually painted some amazing things for a child her age from time to time.  Unfortunately, she has decided to try to imitate my painting which is really not a good thing for her to do, but she thinks her Nana is so awesome and wants to do whatever I do.  Poor baby....

Well here is my painting, which I know is just paint slopped on a plate lol.

 She looked at it and said "Wow Nana, that is a great ostrich !"  Ostrich????  Well ok, if you say so little one. I can live with that interpretation which is better than what I was thinking !

She had been watching me the whole time and basically did the same thing as me rather than come up with her own idea.   This would be her creation.

Now I learned with my own kids never to ask "what is that?"  Because even though they can see that they have painted a dog, or a rainbow, or a flower or something, we adults don't always see the dog in the painting and then they get very upset that you call their dog a bird or whatever.   So I always say "tell me about your painting"  which gives the child an opportunity to tell you what it actually is.  So when I told her to tell me about her painting, she said "This is a Whoopee Disaster"  Um, I didn't ask for any further explanation....   :-)

We were in the grocery store the other day and this particular store had one of those old time scales with the big round glass thingamajig with the numbers on it to show how much you weigh. Kind of like this one ---

  She says "Look Nana, there is one of those things you can "scan" yourself on"   Huh??  She tells me I need to get on it and scan myself .  I was laughing so hard about her using the word "scan" rather than "weigh", but I guess kids these days know more about scanning than weighing.   I told her No, Nana is not going to get on that thing with all these people around, but if she wanted to get on there she could.  She looks at me and says "No Nana, everyone already knows I am 4 years old" .   So I guess in her head, you "scan" yourself to see how old you are .....     Little ones think in weird ways.

I was looking through some pictures the other day and found this  one of me. I guess it was probably about 2010 .  I have since gotten old - er  but I am not posting a recent picture of me. I did that not long ago , the one where my granddaughter made us look like we were underwater. I don't like having my picture taken so it is rare for me to allow it.

That's it, nothing else to say today.

Have a beautiful week my dear readers.

Much love

Written in Blood (from the archives)

i wrote to heal myself , and i wrote to heal you , and as i wrote you crept silently into the corner of my mind , and with each word i wrote , your presence spread like warm spilled ink , filling my mind , my every waking moment , with the essence of you, the thought of you, the love of you

and then

i wrote my heart , with the blood dripping from the wound that was torn open once again , by thoughtless words, carelessly spoken, without consideration as to how they would sound to me , the one who touched your heart , to heal you , when your heart had been torn open by another whose words , were careless too

and so

i sewed up the wound and stopped the flow of words , written in blood from my heart , and now the words are stuck inside a closed and stitched up heart , that longs to open again, but fear hinders me now, the fear that my heart will be ripped open once again by you, my flame ,  the one that i love , and long to touch

but  if

i were to allow the words to flow again , covering you like warm spilled ink , drawing you near , letting you in, filling my mind,  until my every thought, my every waking moment was filled with the essence of you, the thought of you, the love of you

would you , with careless words, rip my heart open again?

or shall we leave it this way , so my every waking thought, every waking moment, is filled with memories of what we had, memories that make me smile, and make me glad for the time, the time we had when a dream was our reality

~Lia   

I never want to be able to say, I had to heal from you...

Broken (from the archives)

b
r o

      k

       e

             n

Vows


b

r o

      k

      e 

           n

Promises

b
r o

      k

      e

            n

Hearts

b
r o

      k

      e

           n

Dreams

b
r o

      k

      e

            n

Glass

b
r o

      k

      e

            n

Peace

b
r o 

      k

      e

            n

Trust

b
r o 

      k

      e

            n

Spirits

b
r o 

      k

      e

            n

Families

b
r o 

      k

      e

            n

Nations

S

            h
a

         t    
t

    e

r

        e

                d

World

~Lia 8/22/2015

Half a million

Five hundred thousand words that were never spoken

now caught in my throat where they shall remain

until I can spit them out or swallow them

the bitter with the sweet.

Would it have made a difference 

if those words had rolled off my tongue 

through the air into your ear?

I think not .

You never would have listened 

you never would have heard

Five hundred thousand words .

Or even just One .

***

~Lia