Not all those who wander are lost.

J. R. R. Tolkien

Everybody has dreams – a good job, plenty of money, a great family, a world that works together. This list goes on and on however you choose it to. The fact is though, you should never let go of your dreams no matter how little or big they are. They give you the motivation to keep going forward and hopefully, success as you define it. Dreams may change over time and others take their place but each little achievement towards the goal makes you better and stronger.

In my younger years, all I wanted to do was be a farmer on my family’s farm. I loved the land, truly loved the land. For years I mentioned it but thought it fell on deaf ears. So I started college, found a job, quit school and starting working full-time. And so it goes. However, I still mentioned my want of being a farmer. “You’re doing good,” was the answer I received. So I kept working, changing jobs a few times as opportunities arose, lucky enough to have a few jobs that I thoroughly enjoyed.

However, I still mentioned my want to be a farmer. Finally, finally, after all these years, I was told how sorry it was that I had not been included in the family farm because it was realized that it was what I dreamed of and there was no doubt I needed the land I loved. I found out then about the legal agreement which forbid it and was told that should never have been put in place to begin with. Too little, too late as I needed to learn the finer points of farming decades ago. Even though the dream itself was not achieved, the want, need, desire for it was what kept the dream alive. The dream is gone now because of time and death but it’s still nice to know I could have made it if things had been different.

Nineteen years ago, I lived in the mountainous area far from the Eastern Shore. I walked up and down hills, enjoying the moments, getting in good shape by climbing up and down those grades. Plus, kiddo and I walked a lot of places instead of driving (actually, he either biked it or roller-bladed it… another story in itself). Unknown to me, I was really getting into shape from all the up/down walking. Then, for some unknown reason, I decided I wanted to run. Yes, another dream. Since the internet was not really available and useless anyway since we didn’t have a computer, I wore a watch and counted steps. (Come to find out, that’s exactly what some of the running websites tell you how to start). Walk X amount of steps then run X amount of steps. Should do it only three or four times a week but I didn’t do that. Sore! So the only thing to make it better was to go back out and do it again. Stretched all those hurting muscles and the pain was almost gone after the second run.

Kiddo would bike or roller-blade with me as I found the highest hills to climb. The first time I made it to the top of the road by the courthouse, I was Woo Hooing as loudly as I could. Two deputies outside was wondering if something was wrong and I yelled, “I made it to the top without having to stop!”

I felt strong. I felt good. I looked forward to late afternoon each day to do it all over again….. from one end of town to the other using only my two legs. Dream fulfilled and still, I kept on running, loving the endorphins.

I walked and hiked all over the place before moving away from the Eastern Shore but the real test was climbing up and down mountain trails. Up and down; up and down we went, strenthening the legs and lungs even more. We’ve climbed to summits only to get there and see an even taller mountain in the distance. Sometimes we had a friend along and we’d hike all day. Made it to the actual Trail of Tears and the Appalachian Trail, something truly special to me. That’s where another dream came to be.

I made a choice to move back to the Eastern Shore to help out a loved one that needed me but never forgot my friends, living the slow-paced mountain life and the Appalachian Trail. Twenty years ago I read the book, “Walk Across America,” by Peter Jenkins. That started it all. I could do that. I wanted to do that. I needed to do that. Except it had to be the Appalachian Trail. However, all the good things I worked towards while living in the mountains left when we returned to the Eastern Shore and entered into the fast-paced lifestyle and being once again with the people who just ‘did not have time’ or ‘did not like to hike.’ So different than what I had been used to and quite an adjustment, with the thought of how I managed to live in this part of the world for so much of my life?

But the Appalachian Trail had hit the dream bucket, no way around it. The only way to do it is to just do it. It will take a lot of training to get my body in shape to do a dream this big but I will do the best I can even if it kills me. I know I won’t ever be able to thru-hike like I wanted to so I’ll settle for section hiking. It might take a while but I’ll eventually make it from place to place, knowing I’m working to achieve another dream… in the woods. My church.

The training has already started with many miles of serious hiking here recently. The next thing is a trip to the mountains with a tent and the doggie. I have to relearn how to walk up and down hills at the same steady place because it’s easier going uphill than going downhill, get my lungs in shape and figure out exactly what it needed for these section trips.

There are other dreams out there I’ve achieved….. and lost, but at least I succeeded at some regardless of how they ended.

I know there are people that have no desire to experience anything outside of their own life and that quite all right. That’s their dream and nothing is wrong with that. However, there are others that have dreams that are a little different than some and that’s quite all right, too.

Whether farming, running, hiking or anything else that can be dreamed up, all I can say is keep your dreams close. Change what you need to because life is always about change but make sure you do your best to achieve your dream, even part of it. You’ll love the feeling of achievement.












Daily Prompt ~ Sanctuary

Daily Prompt ~ Sanctuary

The lad took off running. To nowhere, anywhere, somewhere that wasn’t here, footsteps landing silent on the wet grass.

Run. That’s all there was to do. The top of the ridge was so close even though it was shrouded by a heavy, gray midst the little mind and body so desperately sought. “Just a little bit farther,” was the thought, as the uphill running and adrenaline were beginning to wear off.

“Just three… two… one… ,” steps left as the summit of the ridge was reached, draped in a mist as gentle and fine as a lady’s wedding dress.

No time to stop. Hurry!

“For certain this is a dream.” Or is it? There’s no beginning. “Why.” Don’t know but just keep running. What you’re after is down there somewhere.

Heading down a path seen only with those eyes, easing gently over rocks to avert any sound, onward the little lad goes. He ponders the dream as he runs, wondering why is this happening? Why does this keep happening? He wonders what it is about the dream he is so desperately after. Then is has a staggering thought; “Is this really a dream?” What if… all this in his mind as he keeps running, jumping over logs that are settling back into the earth, swatting away limbs and leaves from his face, always enveloped in the dense and eerily beautiful mist that seems to guide his way to nowhere, anywhere, somewhere.

At that moment, the veil lifts and the lad floats through, the veil closing behind him, leaving him in a space of ethereal beautiful. A flowing stream, a gentle waterfall, a rocky beach and, most precious of all, the natural bed made of vines that have intertwined over the years to make a safe haven to rest.

The little lad knew what he was supposed to do. He crawled up into the little bed made of vines like he had done a thousand times before and felt the peace and safety of his sanctuary before quickly drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

He awoke. At home. In his own bed. And cried.

“Come back, dream. Come back.”




Monday – November 23, 2015

Had a wonderful time Saturday with daughter in law at the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert. Her first concert and my first live TSO experience. Beyond awesome. It was a good day for both of us, thank you, God.

On Sunday, kiddo called me to come down because he was cooking Thanksgiving supper. He did such a great job and everything tasted so good.

Baby Girl is such a sweet and headstrong little girl that I love so much. Miss Priss is a tall, slender young lady who means the world to me. Auntie K is growing and has had all her long hair cut off; Daddy K is more slender than the last time I saw him. Uncle C was enjoying his last evening at home before the return trip back to base. It was truly a great evening with the family.

Looking forward to the road trip to Texas and Fort Hood. I look forward to the trip because it hurts to be around here, or ‘home.’ I miss dad, I miss my stuff, I miss stability. I miss privacy. Even though I’m generally happy even when health sucks, my soul doesn’t know where it belongs – live in the moment – one day at a time. Just what does that really mean?

I’m 52 and sometimes lonely. I feel it as I get older. I think I would like to be with someone sometimes but I’m not the ‘in control, take charge’ person like the previous me. Instead, I feel like some little kid that waits until somebody stronger tells me what to do. Nobody could, would or should handle that. I have a hard enough time with it all by myself.

I love my family so much but I’m scared I’m going to screw up with them again. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I couldn’t go through that again. The most important thing in my life is not me –it’s my family. Without them, there is not a lot of hope. God, please keep us together and civil and a loving, caring family or let me leave.

One day at a time….


I Am Not Your… Don’t Know What To Say

I am not your mother,

nor do I want to be.

Choices made you my daughter,

voices say you don’t want it to be me.

Death is a wound that will never completely heal,

But wishing the dead to rise,

Is not within the power you have,

God had a reason why.

I wish every day your mom was here with you,

So you could have her around,

But since that is not the case,

Maybe you could change your thinking around.

Standing right before you is a mother that is here.

Maybe not the one you want,

But one who’s fair and real.

She means what she says when she says it,

“I’ll help you” because you know this is true.

Yet you care not for this person,

No matter what reasons are construed.

Always a hindrance; that, without a doubt,

Has left a bad feeling that can’t be talked about.

There isn’t much that’s not been done for you,

To help your life be easier,

A life that’s much easier since before you came around.

So no, I’m not your mother, and that will never change,

But I chose you as my daughter, the day you changed your name.

Being married and making babies does not make you ‘grown.”

Empathy, sympathy and compassion are a part of that new road.

Until you decide to look at yourself differently

You’ll never learn a positive thing.

When you start to see people are people and love you regardless,

Then you get your chance to change and grow.

One other thing from those of us who care–

It’s never good to throw away those in your life who loves you and cares,

Because one day you’ll wake up and one of those somebody’s will be gone.

You want to make sure you’ve given to them,

All they’ve given to you and more.

So no, you’re not my daughter,

And no, I did not want you to be,

But yes, you are my daughter,

Because I choose you to be.

Love always,


The Lady You Don’t Want Me To Be


Making A Home

Making plans to come or go doesn’t seem to be working right now. So, with that said, I’ve decided to make the ‘house’ a ‘home’ where Hershey and I can have a settled feeling instead of being at the ready the first of each month to move on. Maybe I should have done that when I settled back in this familiar campground last September but … I was full of plans that didn’t work out or the timing was off. In a nutshell, planning doesn’t work or hasn’t most of the past eight or nine months but I’m good with it.

First, if you have good health, be thankful for it and take care of it the best you can because once it starts going downhill, it seems like it goes faster than a rollercoaster ride. Anything can happen to anybody but keeping your body in homeostasis is a blessing you’ll be grateful to have. Contrary to popular belief, there are some days (a lot of days) where the body will dictate the day. Go with the flow of the day. It’s your shoes. It would be a bad thing to go out when you shouldn’t and hurt either yourself, someone else or both. Not worth it. So….

Back to making the ‘house’ a ‘home’… and yes, it took a while.

Gypsy is a gem; a precious stone in our lives. Inside these four walls, all has been seen – the good, the bad and the ugly. Sometimes the bad and the ugly stay around a lot longer than it should but mostly that’s beyond control, and what can be controlled sometimes takes months on end to fix or complete. But the good – oh, the precious good makes it all worth it. Home. It sure feels like it and I like — no, love — my definition of home.


gypsy on the way to homey

Home acquires stuff. A fact of life, no matter what you live in. Stuff you need and stuff you don’t need. Sometimes, though, the stuff you really don’t need is the exact stuff that makes a house a home. We’re all human and we all have something that makes us feel good, feel better or just plain and simply makes us happy. When I go through and decide what are necessities, what are not, what can be donated or given to someone else, what can be trashed, I make a quick decision and go with it. The happy’s, though, I have to hold and think about. For a while. Maybe a day or two… or twenty. Maybe I will decide to keep it for the next declutter round-up or maybe longer, as long as it brings a smile, happiness and most especially a memory. Done!

Now it’s on to the good stuff. I love gardening although I’ve killed more than my fair share of plants. Maybe that’s why the first place I head in a nursery is the clearance rack to see if maybe, hopefully, I can rescue something that will live and thrive with a little dirt, a little water, a little positivity and a lot of wishful thinking.

Gypsy is just a camper in a campground, on a little lot you pay rent for each month. Yet while you are here, you can do ‘some’ things to make the space more homey. Picnic table and a firepit come with the lot. The rest? That’s where making it a home comes in.


for days you don’t want to end

Although reigned in a lot, this is where the eccentric part of the personality comes out. You look at the big doggie kennel for the short, little Hershey Chihuahua that a pit bull could live in. He loves his big kennel even though he makes a lot of racket when I close the door, thereby shutting him inside. Don’t let him fool you though — he has two mats, a couple of stuffed animals and a bowl of cold water and complete shade every time he gets ‘locked up.’ So even though he might state otherwise, he loves his little homey space in the grass and shade, perfectly content unless another doggie should walk by or the stray cat wanders into his line of vision. Needless to say, it’s on then. .

Then there’s the foliage. All the stuff off the sale racks that need rescuing, or at least an attempt to rescue, tropical foliage that love these hot, humid, sultry days and nights, cacti that you can’t kill, flowering plants that seem to grow two inches every day, beautiful flowering vines that spread their beauty out and dance in the wind, the infamous flamingo named Matilda that stands guard over her tropical garden, and the exotic plant I treated myself to for Mother’s Day and my birthday — a Bird in Paradise that I baby and hope blooms sometime in the next couple of years. .

When the awning is out, yellow Lantana hangs from each end. The place is coming alive. The picnic table holds a variety of succulents in a big container while another container holds two Japanese Maple trees that are growing by leaps and bounds. There are also several types of sage, tomato, squash and cucumber plants, all being used or will soon be big enough to pick.

The chair sits under the awning but close to the campfire pit. There is wood to burn for those days that you don’t want to end. Between the camper door, around the chair, the tree and a little distance away stand all the tropical foliage that gets rearranged frequently. The flowers and the flip flop flower pot are simply beautiful — and pink — and an expression of ‘outside the box.’ The big arrangement saying, ‘I Love Camping’ still hangs on the window and the most important of signs, “In Case Of Emergency, Save My Dog,” is stuck to the window right beside the door. Add the long, ground covering walkway straw mat, topped with the vibrantly colored flip flop mat, and we are there. Almost. The river is out back — the icing on the cake.  Home. A homey home.


home is homey with this view

The next de-clutter mission probably won’t be until the next pre-trip ritual. You can best believe, though, that the out-of-doors expression of art will be staying with me.



I Honestly Love You


For The Laughing Nanny followers, this is an assignment for a psych class I am part of. It needs to be available to others online so this was the first and only choice. Feel free to skip right over it as it’s not a usual (whatever that is) post. Thank you for your patience.    TLN

I was in a local store when an old song from the past came on, Olivia Newton-Johns ‘I Honestly Love You.’ Just that quick, tears started falling. Had to get out of there and fast. Came home with tears still in my eyes and listened to the song all the way through. I cried…. four years worth of tears…. enough that it made me physically sick, which is a first for me. What brought this on? Pretty simple actually, and all in a nutshell of this rotten peanut.

It’s not a good feeling to constantly feel like you have to be on guard… for your health, your well-being, your sanity, your creature comforts, your safety. You’re not ‘who’ you’ve always been because you’re adopted, or so you’ve been reminded. You’ve lost your identity in more ways than one. Your health and sanity takes a toll when threatened with physical violence against you and your dog, knowing someone is outside of your home because they’re beating on the house, and meager attempts at break-ins, yelling from vehicles in order to scare you, leaving threats on voice mail and writing threats out in messages. You’re scared to walk outside during the day. You leave in the early morning hours for the closest all night store just to be around humans not trying to attack every aspect of you. “Call me if you need me,” in one sentence and “I don’t want to get involved,” in the next. Coming or going? Undecided? It’s been a long, tough 46 months since dad died. Add to that the fact that my grandkiddos are either in or out of my life based on whatever whim happens to smell the best at the moment makes some days not worth the effort and nobody will know exactly how much effort it takes for this body of mine to function properly through each day. Each and every day. Always. And forever. Any joy and happiness I feel with my grandchildren means nothing since I am alive….. and I can’t compete with another grandmother who is no longer with us. I’d like to spend as much time as I can with my kiddos without the threat of ‘I’m pissed off with her again so we’ll punish her” mentality. God knows I won’t be living a long life – God knows I probably won’t make it until the next birthday. I don’t have the energy and am too tired to fight any of these losing battles. I don’t want any more confrontations that I didn’t instigate and I don’t want to be in a situation where I’m grabbed and thrown to the ground again. The worst of all is the look in the grandkiddos eyes; they don’t know what to do when they see me…. they don’t know if they are supposed to like me or dislike me. I can’t let that happen anymore. They can’t be pawns in their parents game of manipulation. I just hope my kiddos realize that I have loved them, both of them, ALL of them, more than I loved me. If they don’t or can’t see that, they are in worse shape than I thought.

That song opened up a dam that refused to budge. Don’t know why, don’t know how but it sure felt good for so much stuff to wash away. I guess it’s officially spring again.


Social Media

“The Internet is the first thing that humanity has built that humanity doesn’t understand, the largest experiment in anarchy that we have ever had.” ~ Eric Schmidt

Believe it or not, I heard that from a television show I was watching yesterday; started writing it quickly in my hand for looking up later on… you guessed it… the Internet.

About 20 years ago, I did a research paper in a Sociology class about how the invention of the light bulb may have changed our society, more specifically our daily family life. I had tons of information (gathered mostly from books, not the Internet) but I kept the paper on the straight and narrow, addressing only the subjects of the outline. Still, I was amazed at the information I’d found that I couldn’t work with but still was viable information on the change which most definitely had happened in our lives. For the sake of an objective opinion, the light bulb is a great thing but maybe we have carried it a little too far? What do we gain versus what we lose? More money? More work time? Less time for family and friends? Difficult for me to say because I don’t know what you think.

Then yesterday, I heard the above referenced quote. Instantly, my mind went to social media and how it is used. Which made me think, “How IS it used?”

We use it to post about self, or family, or stories, or hateful and/or hurtful politics, or we’re out degrading someone or something or saying nothing important at all. We see what you’re having for dinner, we know when you’re mad at your husband or boyfriend or your subtle innuendos directed to someone who has no clue that your post is about them, if that person even sees it. It’s the place to use every foul word you know and get by with it because ‘it’s your page.’ It’s the way to spread hate, discrimination, dishonesty, have affairs, be accused of having an affair when nothing could be further from the truth. In short, we have turned into a full narcissistic and jealous society without even thinking about it.

Anything to make someone feel bad about their self.

Then we use it to post about self (again), family (again), or stories (again) with the hope that someone gets a smile or laugh out of it. We share happy photos of friends and loved ones, knowing they are appreciated. We can keep up with our friends that are under the weather, find out in a flash if there’s anything we can do to help. There’s always a happy video, a funny saying, a roll on the floor laughing poster, and there’s the poor doggie and kitty posts that need a forever home. We share our art, our creativity, our music, our devotions, prayer requests and we’re thankful to know there are those around that really care.

Anything to make someone feel good about their self.

I only participate in two social media sites – Facebook and this blog. The blog is simply for anything (literally) that comes to mind. It’s not, however, my private or personal journal. If it’s not a funny story, it’s about a subject that’s been on my mind. Anything other than that will be private and personal and not on any site.

This past week or so, I’ve been bombarded with Friend’s Requests on Facebook. I almost never receive Friend’s Requests as I keep my circle small and have people that will communicate with me. Ever so often, I go through the list and delete the ones that I never hear from or those I don’t see in the Newsfeed any longer. So no, I don’t get many Friend’s Requests… until this week. I knew one person for sure; the rest? From mutual friends. I check each person before accepting or declining and see that most of these mutual friends have over 1,000 friends on their list. Seriously? How in the world do you keep up with over 1,000 friends? You can’t! Can you? I also realized these mutual friends were one’s that didn’t communicate with me at all and I never saw them in the Newsfeed. I’ve sent messages to those sending requests asking if I know him or her. I don’t know these people and there’s no telling what they post, something I’m getting pickier and pickier about.

I’ll admit I’m somewhat addicted to sharing with others, especially photos I take or some music video or some hiking article or hiking place. Photography is a hobby and I have many photographer friends that message me with hints, help or atta girl, good job! My favorite subjects are nature and my grandkiddos. The death warmed over look keeps selfie’s to a minimum so no narcissism there. Music is a no-brainer. Hiking? More and more people are beginning to love the great outdoors as much as I do and that makes me smile.

You can see so much on social media if you only pay attention. Admittedly, there are some things someone doesn’t want to know and then there’s the extreme where someone wants to know everything about everything and have no qualms about asking something that may not be any of your business.

Which brings me back to the quote…

HAVE we unleashed the largest experiment in anarchy that we have ever had?

Do we REALLY think people are that interested in us?

Honest, I tried to write this objectively but know that there are some subjective points of view within. Please know I’m always interested in another opinion and realize there may not be a specific right or wrong.