Spring, alas

Piles of snow and ice tenaciously refuse to melt on the north sides of buildings and trees

Fallen branches from the ice storm mock the emerging crocuses

Beauty emerges within the storm’s beastly remains.

Grateful for low tech tools

The fireplace, the printed book, the battery-operated radio

We stay wrapped up in the magic warmth of blanket throws

And wait until the weather warms enough

to deliver tornado season.

Alas, that’s spring.

Dreams of a Mother

I dream that differences will be valued, not disdained.
Eye color, hair color, body shapes, and skin shades will be appreciated for their beauty and variety.
Cultural traditions will not disappear, but will thrive and grow together into a rich and fascinating sharing of knowledge and beliefs.
I dream that blindness will be merely a different way of seeing, and deafness impair only the quantity, not the quality of the language ‘heard’.
Children will matter because they own the future. Their education, academic and social, will become and remain of utmost importance.
Mediators and peacemakers will be recognized as the strongest leaders.
Questions will come from curiosity, not ignorance, and the answers will breed respect.
Knowing each other, knowing ourselves, will lead to knowing that fights and conflicts, wars of all kinds, can cease to be of value.

MOMocrats: Dreams of a Mother

Countdown – or – Drink a Toast to Life

Contemplation of a New Year
Fill in the blanks.

Five Significant Memories: Look back

Four predictable events to come: Look forward

Three Highlights of the Year that’s Ending: Reminisce

Two Good Habits to Continue and Enjoy: Look ahead while looking back.

One — just one!
One Goal for the year to come

Think it over.
Declare the goal real. Relevant. Possible.
Now drink a toast,
Whether champagne or grape juice
Promise yourself it’ll happen.
Then make it so.