I was a little kid and still too young for public schools.
But not too young for love and war.
We were in war...us against them.
Earth girls versus material girls.
Childhood charges...
I ran, barefoot padding heavy through the grass and slapping the sidewalk hard.
At the end of the day, I had scraped up elbows, knees and one stubbed toe.
'What happened to you?'
'I don't know Momma'
'What do you mean you don't know? Of course you know! Look at you! You are a bloody mess'
'Well, I remember running and falling... I just don't remember getting hurt.'

So I have learned not to declare war so readily...
but I still sometimes fly ninety miles to nothing.
I still fall and just get up and go.
And I still find injuries and wonder where I got them...

Artwork, Prayers for Pixies, by my Sister Singleton of JustGiveMePeace

Tears, Scissors and a New Jouney

Several years ago, I was able to see Ray Charles live at the House of Blues in Chicago. Tears trickled down my cheeks... as his music, his voice, his sound, his vibration reached right into my chest and rattled my very being. I could feel his sounds throughout my entire body and I find it difficult to find words to describe how it felt.

I had that feeling again while listening to the Celtic Woman on You Tube... so I present to you Mairead of Celtic Woman. If one were deaf, I believe they could watch her and feel the music she creates. If one were blind, I believe that the ears would let you see what a powerful violinist she is.


I watched her...spinning, dipping, leaping, twisting and grinning... so very beautiful.

My stride is quite large and through my employment, I am constantly moving...leaving my hair in a tangled mess tucked behind my ears.

I got out my scissors. With a whack-whack here and a whack-whack there...and another whack here to fix that a whack there....

I realize now that I have the same haircut I had when I was five... just a little bit longer.

Ah...the circle...