sweet, sweet summer

Good-bye bonfires.  Good-bye crickets.  Good-bye Hotels on Hotwire.  Good-bye camping in thickets.  Good-bye care-free days.  Good-bye sleeping in.  Good-bye barbecues.  Good-bye goldfishes to win.

Farewell to the hot days of summer we love.  Farewell to the cool splashes in pools which we dove.  Farewell to the fireworks, the carnivals and candy.  Farewell to the ice cream man who's ever so handy.

So long, starry nights.  So long, sail boating.  So long, grizzly bears in Yellowstone, still hunting.  So long, many hours of sunlight.  So long, mosquitoes.  So long, keeping the crops away from the crows.

Adios, lawn mowing and sprinklers running.  Adios, sun bathing and long hours reading.
Adios, traveling, sight-seeing, and dining.  Adios week-night parties, chatting and wining.

Summer is over.  It is done.  It is finished. 

We must say, "Good-bye." and "Thanks!" and "We'll miss you!"

Because before we know it, our lives will have started and we won't remember summertime bliss.  Which each of us held at our fingertips.  But every so slowly, so slowly it slipped, right through our fingers -  and vanished. 

That's it.

Void, take a moment, just a moment to ponder:  the wonders of summer.  With each moment I hope you grow fonder and fonder of the uniqueness encapsulated in summertime greatness.  Smiles on faces and life in the midst.  Recall relaxation, celebration, and joy.  And as you remember, begin to look forward.  Look for the signs of summer's return.  Friend, it will be here...

...before the blink of an eye!

are you a Mushy?

Do Hallmark commercials turn your eyes misty?  Does a romantic comedy have you sniffling?  Will a sports flick cause you to cry uncontrollably?  Could an inspirational quote create a lump in your throat?  Might a hug from a small child recall nostalgia?  Would a Packer win within the last 30 seconds of a game bring tears to your eyes?  Do you fight back emotion at the sound of beautiful music on a cool summer night?  When you see an elderly couple walking hand-in-hand, does your breath catch in your chest as you smile at the sight?

If you've answered "Yes" to any or all of the previous questions, you my friend, are a Mushy.  As a Mushy, you may have been roused with emotion by the mere reading of those questions.  It's safe to say, that as a Mushy, you are on the verge of tears right now because you can think of a specific time and place when you were in an exact or similar situation.  Mushies are people who carry tissues with them at all times:  to church, to the movies, in the grocery store, listening to the radio, weddings, funerals, parties, reunions, graduations you name it - if you're a Mushy, you require tissues.  A Mushy is a person who is not afraid to cry in public and often lets the tears flow freely in private.  A Mushy knows how to cry tears of joy, sadness, anger, and relief.  Dear Void, tonight it is my pleasure and pride to admit to you, I am a Mushy.

I've never considered my being a Mushy to be a bad thing.  I'm sure my teachers were not always sure how to understand my frequent teary spells.  And to my parents:  Thank-you for putting up with the floods of emotion which seemed to be at their peak for a good portion of my childhood.  But for myself, the over-exaggerated emotion has never really bothered me.  At the end of a love story, I can't help but feel what the characters are feeling.  It's natural for me to stop singing on the last stanza of the final hymn, just to compose myself.  I'm happy to say the sound of my mother's voice on the other end of the phone gets me every time.  I find myself swallowing a lump in my throat when I see a sunset, or listen to rain out my window.  Mushiness is a big part of my day.

I once read that the same  diaphragmatic reflex which the body uses to laugh is also used to sob.  I find it slightly ironic for two very different emotions to be expressed in the same physical way.  For that reason, I also find it ironic that a person who shows too much emotion can be considered "weak" where as a person who shows little to no emotion is "strong."  Emotion is the very trait which sets the human race apart from all other creatures on Earth.  Having emotion makes us unique!  Don't hide it!  Flaunt it!  If you want to cry, cry.  You want to shout?  Do it.  You need to laugh out loud?  Please, don't spare us. 

To Mushies everywhere - it's a stoic world out there...let's show 'em what we're made of!

night time is for sleeping

For a writer, a sleepless night is merely a blank page with endless possibilities.  For a driver, its an open road, a full tank, a working radio and no agenda.  For a singer, a sleepless night could be like The Song That Never Ends.  It goes on an on my friends.  Some people...  For a teacher, a sleepless night means a buzzing brain with too many agendas.  Tonight I will make my sleepless night into a canvas on which I will paint words.  Perhaps the challenge will turn this night from restless into restful.

What could I paint tonight?  I certainly will not bore you with the logistics of classroom management or the intricacies of lesson planning.  I would never dream of giving you a summary of the last two chapters in the book I just read.  I couldn't possibly give you a run-down of my day complete with meal plans and errand runs.  Those pictures are all too...dull.  No Void, this is a sleepless night to remember.  Let's make it memorable.  Let's tell a story.

There once was a lady who just couldn't sleep.
Try as she might her body wouldn't leap
into Sleep's waiting arms.

She asked herself, "Why must you stay awake?
There is not even one good sake
why you shouldn't fall for Rest's many charms!"

The lady was tired but her mind was a tizzy.
The voices inside - making her dizzy
until she opened her book.

The book proved a smart remedy to quiet the noise,
until the words, THE END, stood there in a kind of a poise
as if to say, "Madejya look!"

On to the next prescription of sorts,
perhaps a cold beverage and a peek at ports
on the giant, world wide web.

Ah, that wasn't working, there's only one thing
that'd cause watery eyes and the lady to sing
of the glories of bed.

That thing was to write everything in her head
down on paper for it to be read
by anyone, anywhere under the sun
who might have the same kind of job which was undone.

As fingers hit keys and the scroll began,
a yawn escaped from her lips and ran
through her body at last!

Sleep had arrived, the long wait was over.
Eyes heavy, she fought to finish...
But alas, Sleep was too fast.

Jerk-o-Meter

Okay, it's true.  I'm single.  I've been for awhile.  I'm okay with it, you can be too.  Recently, I've found myself dodging and darting the infamous question, "Why are you single?" The first couple times the question has no effect.  Most times the question makes me laugh quietly to myself.  You see, nobody goes around asking anybody, "Why are you married?" After several different people, from all walks of life find reason to ask these ever so exasperating four words, a girl begins to wonder herself, "Why AM I single?"

You won't be surprised to hear it doesn't take long for me to come up with an answer.  To the questioners I reply with something light-hearted, "Oh, I'm not single, I'm choosy!"  or "I've never been efficient, I don't plan to start." or "Well, it's like this, I see it one of two ways.  I can have single girl problems, or I can have married girl problems.  Either way, I'll have problems.  Right now, I like this kind."  [That last one I can't take credit for.  It's from a book I was recently gifted - Even God is Single (so stop giving me a hard time). by Karen Salmansohn.]

But at home, in the quiet of my own thoughts the truth is made aware.  Is it because of the series of failed relationships I've been in?  Is it my tremendous decision making skills?  Do I just have an unrivaled amount of bad luck?  Perhaps I'm cursed.  No, it don't think it's any of those things.  I have a strong feeling my singleness is due to a highly-trained and super-sensitive Jerk-o-Meter.

After countless bad dates, months of mayhem, a few too many one-minute conversations, and unwanted sideways glances, I've become a serious weeding machine.  It's not that I don't want to be with someone, it's that the pickings are slim.  Lucky for me, the Jerk-o-Meter never lies.  I just turn it on, scan the surface, begin listening, and then wait for the light.  Green light means go ahead.  Red light means stop.  It's that simple.  No buttons to push.  No games to play.  It's either red or green.  No in between.  No maybes.  None of this, "I'm just not sure."  Best of all, no time wasted.  Once red has been spotted I turn off the meter and go looking elsewhere.  The Jerk-o-Meter is the way to go.  What a handy feature!

I have to be honest with you, Void, the Jerk-o-Meter, although Grandmother-tested and Father-approved, is not faultless.  It needs a back-up.  After the Jerk-o-Meter has done it's job, another meter kicks into gear.   The Match-o-Meter.  The Match-o-Meter is only needed when the Jerk-o-Meter has given the green light.  It's not often a girl meets a non-jerk.  When she does, she'd like for it to work.  For me, all too often the Jerk-o-Meter gives the green light but the Match-o-Meter illumines red.  Ultimately, not one but two meters need to shine green.  Two green lights, that's what I'm looking for.

So, question:  "Why am I single?"  Answer:  Daily Double.  I'm waiting for the second green light.