The thought of Ireland haunts me

Posted on February 12, 2015 by simplygiselle

I was inspired today by Lisa at Sunshine Travels and the daily post, to write about that one place I would love to go before it is too late. That place for me is Ireland. I can’t explain why. All of these years when the name ‘Ireland’ gets mentioned there is a sadness in my heart, a deep sadness inside that feels like… like I miss home and I can’t go back.

I envision it to be a very simple romantic place. The mist along the hundred-shades-of-green rolling hills, the smell of peat that lingers in your mind like your favorite men’s cologne, being surrounded by ghosts of a thousand years past, singing sad songs while having a pint in the local pub, and of course… the far off wail of the forlorn pipes….that is how I see Ireland. Maybe I have just seen too many movies…maybe it will not live up to my dreams, but there is only one way to find out.

(image: NationalGeographic.com)

Reposted in answer to the daily prompt: Tourist Trap, What’s your dream tourist destination — either a place you’ve been and loved, or a place you’d love to visit? What about it speaks to you?

What is behind Door #1?

Posted on February 6, 2015 by simplygiselle

“That” room… This is clearly not Let’s Make a Deal. There is no new car, no boat, no vacation, and not even a donkey with a sombrero and a serape.

My daughter does not like to clean. It’s a fact plain and simple. If the mess it is out of sight, even more so. That being said, I know there is a place in her apartment that even SHE dare not go.

When I see the door that leads to “that” room, it sends shivers through me.

Scenario One: Not unlike the scene from Poltergeist when the closet door opens to the abyss of hell. The only way I will open “that” door is if I have a priest (or little person with a funny hat and big sunglasses to clean the room in a spiritual sense) and a bucket of holy water.

Scenario Two: Opening “that” door could also be a black hole, sucking all of existence through it into another dimension. Stephen Hawking would be afraid to open “that” door.

Scenario Three: Have you seen Monsters Inc.? There is no proof that opening “that” door may not lead to 1000s of monsters and their factory of closet doors to scare children. I am an adult and “that” door scares me.

Keep the scenarios going…. What do you think is behind “that” door.

Reply to: No, Thanks – Is there a place in the world you never want to visit? Where, and why not?

Toxic fumes, tetanus shots, and the Big Wheel

Posted on February 5, 2015 by simplygiselle

While on FB I came across a little dittie that reminded me of the fearless generation from whence I came: the 70’s. If you were born a bit before then, the 70’s were just the right age when the stars aligned and curiosity, fearlessness, and determination joined forces and nothing stopped you.

Kids didn’t use seatbelts, let alone have their own car seat. Your seatbelt was your mom throwing her arm across you to keep you from smashing your tiny flexible skull against the dashboard (which only worked 20% of the time). There were lapbelts but, admit it, pretty lame. And pick-up trucks with an open bed – well now we are talking changing a three-seater into a jamb-as-many-friends-in-the-back-seater! The cargo area of a station wagon? Nope this was actually used as a free for all play pen for the kids. Wrestling, laying down for naps, having a picnic, all while dad tried not to lose his shit driving in beach traffic so you and your brother can eat a sand-wich; literally sandwich filled with sand from your sticky fingers (crunch crunch).

Creepy Crawlers… yes please let me inhale toxic fumes, I didn’t want to ace those bubble tests in third grade anyway. And the plastic glob of goo at the end of the straw that magically turned into a huge balloon? Inhale and residue on my fingers which will inevitably go into my mouth at some point, SCORE! Whoops forgot about the lead paint toys too. Back in the day there was no other way to adhere paint to toys to lead was added and those cute little wooden blocks that were used as a teething device was now dropping the SAT scores by the minute. Ivy League schools are overrated anyway.

Sunscreen was called baby oil back in the day. If you weren’t rocking a golden tan or peeling from a summer’s worth of sunburns you were lame and had the worst summer ever. And if you dared show up with Noxema on your nose to lessen the pain, you got your shoulders slapped to remind you of your burn there as well…. good times.

Games: lawn darts were made of razor sharp blades about 6 inches long and you tossed them 10 yards back and forth at one another with the hopes it will land in the hoolahoop on the ground for points. The company had to completely revamp its design with soft edges because people where getting hurt. Who got hurt with this game? Fess up! You have to be kidding. You didn’t know that when that 6 inch blade came even remotely in your direction that you wouldn’t move out of the way?! That was part of the fun – playing chicken with a javelin! Way to ruin it for everyone.

Helmets and elbow pads are for losers. Learning to ride a bike, roller skate (and later on a skateboard) takes balance. If you don’t get hurt falling off, the learning process takes so much longer. Plus the scars are really cool. Who didn’t ride on the handlebars or on the seat holding on to the driver’s butt (which was in your face and hoping he was a real friend and wasn’t going to blast you with a fart) as balance? There was nowhere to put your feet so your legs dangled and your friend had a bike and you had to walk like a dork so ride-sharing was the norm. Plus there is plenty of room for two on a one-seater, you just have to be creative.

Toss in the Big Wheel (and for you Evil Kineval types the wooden jump plank leaning on a concrete block) and now we are talking some adrenalin. Your friend Sully did it yesterday and you will be damned if he is going to show off that scab alone. Determination supersedes wisdom when you are young.

The adventurous play ground. The days of climbing up inside the ‘metal rocket’ with all its sharp edges, uncovered steel screw tops and nails exposed made for tetanus shots only a doctor’s office can dream of. Don’t forget the 200 degree metal slide against the back of your legs; it’s a beautiful day and that slide has been just soaking in the sunshine for several hours – go metal burn yes! But it didn’t stop you, you shook it off and kept going back up anyway because it was fun.

The special hideaway. Either you had one or your best friend did. It was in a tree house, sitting on a tree limb 20 feet high, under the porch, in a leanto, just some secret place for you to escape the tyranny of your parents or the unbridled beatings of your older siblings. Hiding away for hours was the norm; the police were not called if you were an hour late for supper, you just got grounded. And not the ‘fun’ grounded these kids have these days… TV, xbox, cell phone, all in the room to keep you entertained? Unheard of…you had the old school, sit in your room and stare out of the window at all your friends having fun playing tag or hide and seek while you were missing it. Lesson learned.

There are of course many more… the drinking from a hose and not bottled water, your baseball team losing and not getting the pizza party because “you tried really hard”, the walking to school (in the blizzard uphill both ways) because there weren’t school buses and your family only had one car that dad took to work….

It goes on and on and it was fun. It was a great generation and we learned so much. Please share any ‘good times’ that I may have overlooked.

Tell me, teach me, involve me

Posted on February 3, 2015 by simplygiselle

“Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn” – Benjamin Franklin

Well Ben, you and I are on the same page. I love to learn. I ask tons of questions to the point of being annoying but it is because I want to know, I h.a.v.e. to know and although having someone explain it is nice, I want the hands-on-full-immersion-experience!

I want my hands in the dirt planting, the water in my face while swimming, the air in my hair on the highest swing so I can feel like I am flying…

I want to be drenched in the excitement, in the moment, to the point of almost drowning from the knowledge and information…soaking up all that is out there to encounter…more… there is always more….

Artsy-fartsy I am not

Posted on January 28, 2015 by simplygiselle

I have never been able to comfortably embrace my artistic side; plain and simply I have none.

My mother was a brilliant artist in the true sense of the word. She could dance, sing (although she more often than not forgot the words which was always the joke between the family), played the piano (self taught), and kicked butt playing tennis against any single or doubles team that dare take her on… but her piece de résistance would easily be her painting. Pastels, charcoal, and rice paper, nothing caused a bump in her ability to capture the moment. Some day I will post her painting to share with the world and have her legacy live on forever but right now this is about me….

I am the last in the line of boys, and being the only other female in the family, her immense talent is a lot to aspire to. There should be some mom-daughter connection no?

Early on I learned I did not have the talent, nor did I have the patience. I have all of my father’s analytical genes (and also am my own worst critic). The highly organized (put it back where you found it and how you found it so you can find it again next time), the strict control of time (we don’t have time to stop we have a schedule to keep) and the deductive reasoning (if its not the air filter, the sparks or the timing, it is probably a gunky gas filter)… all very useful and practical in the world so I am not knocking it.

So why is it I still strive to be artsy-fartsy like my mom? I have taken to using a Groupon for ‘fun’ artistic afternoons with my daughter and do something different (none of this bowling or mini golf crap). The use of quotation in the word -fun- is there because I typically stress out more trying to complete the task rather than enjoy it’s process. Don’t get me wrong, it does not take away from the time spent with my daughter. We still laugh and crack jokes even if we are the only ones laughing, but the pressure to make it perfect, to get what I see in my head out through my hands, is close to impossible and extremely-extremely frustrating (did I mention it is extreme?!)

So the birch trees you see are another attempt at my striving to bond with my mother. After all, don’t we secretly wish that our children will take something special from us and pass it along to future generations? Maybe that is it; I disappointed her in that sense and am still striving to keep a piece of her alive while failing miserably. (Hmm Fraud where are you now?)

I am sure it will not be the last time but sooner or later I will get the hint; I am just not artsy-fartsy.

MMM smell that earth

Posted on January 26, 2015 by simplygiselle

I remember distinctly while growing up, my mother making sure I had enough fresh air, no matter what the weather. She also taught me to appreciate nature around me.

In the autumn, the leaves that had fallen to the ground always smelled warm and smoky; even before being thrown into a brush fire pit.

The winter brought sledding outside down whatever small hill would lend itself to us. Traveling down the hill at what felt like the speed of light and the thrill of hitting a bump, tossed into the air, and the laughter of being covered from head to toe in the glistening white powder. Sometimes you would inadvertently hit a tree no matter how hard you tried to steer away from it (and if you were on a small plastic saucer you didn’t have a prayer to not something), and then BAM, thrown off the sled into a bush (if you were lucky) or onto hardened snow, ouchies. No one wants cold boogers frozen to your face, so the tears would have to just wait. All in all, the cold fresh air made us feel alive and the scars are always a conversation piece.

In the summer when the sun shone through the windows, it is a no brainer…who wants to stay indoors on a beautiful sunny day? We have such a short summer season as it is so get out there and enjoy it. (Plus it is always better than doing house choirs like dusting!) The blue sky, cotton ball clouds, and leaves so green they hummed with life, blew in every gentle breeze. Even on rainy summer days, I could be found outside, cartoon character umbrella above me, in the gutter of the street, trying to build a dam or floating a few pieces of grass in a race, and then looking skyward for the rainbow.

But the spring, well now, this is a very special season at my home. The new arrived robins who would sing songs of their travels and birth of their young yet to come would resonate throughout the morning. The hundreds of flowers my father painstakingly spent all winter to cultivate the previous year, from cellar and then to small, but adequate, flower hut would begin to rise through the earth frozen in time by the longer winter past.

It is this freshly opened soil that, when soaked with the springs rains, smelled the most beautiful earthly smell you could ever imagine.

From the Daily Post question: home, soil, rain

I alone

Posted on January 23, 2015 by simplygiselle

I alone love you

I alone tempt you

I alone love you

Fear is not the end of this

From the moment I heard Ed Kowalczyk sing these intense lyrics, I was just blown away. My interpretation is that fear is not the end of this (life implied) but fear can most definitely paralyze you and as many cultures and religions will tell you, death is only the beginning.

Although money is required for existence, love truly is the power behind all that we are. It guides us to support others, to have the strength to move forward when it seems all is lost, it is found in hope, and trust, and would have us throw ourselves in front of a train if it meant saving the ones that we love most from getting hurt. Hmm I guess I have to add that love is also blinding, both in a good and bad way.

“The greatest teachers will not hesitate to leave you there by yourself chained to fate” = what better way to make ourselves stronger than by the strength in love and in ourselves. Who makes it happen? You make it happen. If you decide to give up, the situation hasn’t changed, it is still there taunting you, poking you with a stick until you get back up and knock it on its butt. So you can’t give up, you just can’t….

This song ebbs and flows in a very powerful way and bring me through a series of emotions; love, a smidge of sadness, longing, but in the end, I always seem to feel more powerful and resilient and more courageous for hearing it.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Music – – As a writer I have many inspiration cues. A smell, a color, a photo from the past can all be a good launching place to write from. But today I want you to think about music as your guide. Let it flow and take you somewhere else today as you dance with your fingertips and write from your soul.

What is all this honking about!!

Posted on January 22, 2015 by simplygiselle

geese
It has been said that geese honk while in their formation to encourage the lead goose, for it is that one goose that bears the brunt of the work. What work – just flying is work in itself! The point goose is breaking the air surface and thereby spreading the air current outward. Each goose after the point goose has a lesser degree of air surface to break and makes it a bit easier for them to maintain flight. When the lead goose gets tired he falls to the back of the formation and another goose steps up (or flies up at the case may be). That’s what all the honking is about – working as a team, cheering each other on, sharing the work for the better of the group.

There is so much to learn from such a simple gesture. It goes beyond teamwork and beyond encouragement and it is all natural. They ‘get it’. There is nothing selfish or mean spirited in their quest to get from point A to point B. They don’t secretly wish for one of their feathered mates to fall from the sky so they can get a good laugh from it. They are just honestly praising the hard work and perseverance they are experiencing. What a great concept!

For me, listening to the geese is so self-indulgent I almost feel badly; they bring such a smile to my face while they are working so hard to stay aloft. HONK HONK