#Ten Things of Thankful, Girlie Style.

Greetings and salutations! I’m Girlie and you have found your way to the Edge – GirlieOnTheEdge. Welcome. This blog has been around a long time. It has grown, evolved, waned, almost disappeared…trying all the while to hone it’s voice. GirlieOnTheEdge began as a way of sharing. Like a ham radio operater, I sent words out into the airwaves hoping someone might pick up on the frequency and discover my words.  Words that always contained a message. Of hope, encouragement, humor (no, really! I wrote some humorful words once upon a time lol).  It was also a voice to share a life tool that to this day totally blows me away in it’s spot on perspective into why people act and do the things they do.  Amazingly helpful to me, how could I not share that with other people. That’s right! I’m talking about the Wakefield Doctrine aka the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers. Numero uno folks. How can it not be?! It has helped me navigate the crazy world of relationships – family, co-workers, friends….

Scrolling through my posts, as time and life wittled the wood of this place, there remained a constant. I would almost always write a 10 Things of Thankful post. As my readers know, it’s a bloghop offered by our recuperating wordsmistress Lizzi Lewis. She of Considerings fame shared a thing that has touched the lives of countless folks. Dos y dos Lizzi 😀

3. A safe return last weekend from my homeland.

4. Having a huge smile on my face when I went in to work after being on vacation. The office was decorated for Christmas! And that always makes me smile.

5. For my family. I am one lucky Girlie.

6. The generosity of friends. Old friends. Lifelong friends.

7. Canines!

8. My health and the wealth in my possession that is not of material or financial form.

9. the Cat.

10. Right here, right now. This day. A gift to me one more time.

Let’s step outside of ourselves today, get out of the way, and look around. Pretty amazing, eh?

Thankful is as Thankful Does. RI Edition of the TToT

Greetings. Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge and occaisional words. Todays words are my participation in Lizzi, whadya mean they retired the Concorde?!, Lewis. This is my first day back from a visit to my homeland. I have much to be thankful – sisters and brothers and canines of the highest order, strings from the past that can never be cauterized. I attempt here to do a pictorial post. I ask forgiveness in advance from Zoe and Val who have turned the pictorial post into an art form. Practice makes perfect, right ladies?!

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Alrighty then…the simple is impossible for this clark this morning. Let’s not allow the simple things to trip us up, eh?

“Standing With My Toes Hanging over the Edge”…It’s a Six.

Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge and a vaction edition of the Six Sentence Story. Our Hostess Zoe, aka Ivywalker puts on a bloghop each and every week and invites any and all to share a story, poem, limerick, anecdote (catch my drift?) that contains no more and no less than 6 sentences. I have found it to be an enjoyable challenge! This week’s cue word is Craft.

The thin girl, wavy, flowing hair resistent to being contained under the starched bonnet, was barely out of her teens but in this time period she was considered a young woman, an adult subject to the laws of the small minded community to which she was born.

She’d been brought before the council to answer for what she was accused – crimes against humanity and Christianity and all things holy and good, witchcraft – and while older women were the majority accused, she stood as an example that no female was exempt from accusation.

A life had been saved, a young life she saw no reason to be sacrificed to the impenetrable ignorance of religious fervor that permeated the day. She had been taught how to cultivate and mix herbs into healing potions and linaments, medicine surely as effective as anything prescribed by the so called “doctors” of the day by Agwi, an island slave who’d been brought against his will to this fledgling colony.

Bridget couldn’t remember the first time she met Agwi, it felt as if she had always known him, and just as certain was the feeling, the knowing, that there was something extraordinary about the dark skinned slave.

She was tutor to the young boy whose parents, Agwi served, and so it was that a friendship almost magically was able to grow and flourish right under the noses of those who would surely have disapproved, association with a slave was tantamount to the worst crime save for witchcraft.

Under Agwi’s careful, albeit clandestine tuteledge, Bridget learned the craft of medicinal herbs, homeopathic remedies and ways in which to soothe ailments so prevalent to the times but tragically there was no cure for fear and ignorance as she now stood before the tribunal accused of consorting with the devil himself instead of being praised for saving the life of her young student.

And Yet I Find…Another TToT at the Edge

Good morning. Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge and my contribution to the Ten Things of Thankful blog hop, courtesy of our own world traveling Lizzi Lewis.

I sit facing almost due east, to my right, early morning sun near blinding me as it demands entrance into the lower level family room in which I have taken refuge today. Light so bright my reflection stares back at me, superimposing my own self over these words. Quite cool. For this, I am thankful.

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2. I gaze both at this screen and out the French doors into the world of my homeland. And so, I am thankful for a safe journey yesterday arriving in sunshine.

3. So very thankful I am to be on vacation! It has been a year since having time off. Feels good 🙂

4. I am always thankful for my brother and sister-in-law’s kindess and generosity. They always make me feel welcome when I visit. I’m thinking, hoping, perhaps this trip, this time, clarity will be mine as I sleep soundly in the room of re-direction. I’d like to think I’ll sleep in since I’m on vacation. In my mind’s eye that is what I will do this week. But if today is any indication, I’ll be awake and up before 6:30 am. Wait! That is sleeping in!

5. As things turned out, my visit this week allows me to celebrate my sister’s birthday in person 😀

6. This may be a bit premature, but I’m thankful in advance for being able to get together with a few friends while I’m back. Guess I’d better let them know, eh? 😀 I’m a fan of surprises. rogers, in general, aren’t that into surprises. You know, the preparation thing. Which is why I told my sister Thanksgiving Day I was coming to visit. Sure enough, she made plans for today…last Thursday 🙂 Fine by me since I had made the “surprise” plan for Wednesday night 🙂

7. the Wakefield Doctrine.

8. Proximity to Mystic, CT. It’s where Annaliese grew up. I’m thinking of driving there for some inspiration. The writing thing. Gone for months. Perhaps this trip will facilitate a comeback

9. Finding spots. I have a new spot in the downstairs of this home sitting in the wingback by the French doors, looking out to green and trees. Yup. This is it. This is the writing place. Fingers crossed the words will come.

10. This day.  A gift I shall not squander. I will go out into it and celebrate.

Just Remember This… It’s a TToT.

‘Morning. I have blown my nose, rid myself of tears. Why? Well, because I listened to the first vid. Since I was an itty bitty Girlie, I’ve felt an “affinity” for all things French. The very first time I sang the French national anthem in grade school, something stirred within me. Something on a molecular level. Past life “memory”? Who knows.

I first watched Casablanca, at my mother’s urging “you have to watch this movie…” When this scene played, when they started to sing, my body reacted. The floodgates of emotion opened and I felt something grip my soul. And so I cry every time I hear La Marseillaise. To this very day.

This is a post for Lizzi’s bloghop. The one that has survived and persisted lo these many years. If you want to get an idea about how long, just go to Clark’s post. To the 4 individuals who wrote the screenplay for one of my favorite movies of all time, Thank You.

All the people involved with that movie – did they think their creative endeavor would survive time? Did they dream that their work would go down in history as one of the best films of all time, that their words would be repeated by generations of people yet to be born? That it would affect millions of people? The longevity of works of art, of the creative mind. Perpetual inspiration, non? Thanks to the internet, there is a dearth of creative work that will go on in perpetuity. Huge thankful. Huge.

I have many thankfuls, always. Each day. The weather so far, cool but not cold,  sun… finally finding jeans that look decent on me. (well, no one has told me otherwise. but would they really? lol) And a huge thankful shoutout to a fellow clark who is blazing her clarklike trail with great success. Thank you Cynthia. She has encouraged me to write, she has always been supportive and I am thankful for her friendship.

To Val. Thank you Val! for creating the FB page, My World at the Moment.  What began as an exercise between two people was shared and the creative process was engaged. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Engaging the world? Participating. Reaching out. Experiencing the world, not reading about it, not thinking about it…To everyone who has helped me to persist in that endeavour, THANK YOU!

The past cannot be altered. We become who we are in spite of it or because of it. It is our choice.

 

It’s Not My Fault for being Late to The SSS!

How many times do I have to hear “Denise, you need to set a time limit for writing a post“.  And each time I hear that admonition (yes, it’s an admonition lol), I agree. With gusto! It makes sense. Especially when it comes to writing a 6 Sentence Story. Zoe’s bloghop does not require any more than 6 sentences. On the surface, the SSS is a seemingly, low pressure, just have some fun with it, bloghop. Except if you’re a clark who has all but stopped creative writing, writing of any sort really. Na-ah. No pressure! lol

I found a way this evening, don’t ask me how because I’m clueless, to sidestep the pressure. I engaged the world earlier and you might say that by doing so found my way to the words below. And a special hats off to a particular 10 year old who’s creative energy always makes me smile:D

Mrs. Garcia, her 5th grade students nicknamed her “Mrs. Garcia Lorca” after the famous poet and playwright, was very excited about going to work today.

She’d finally been able to get her first decent’s night sleep in over a month, as it had been that long since she first began her project, her quest, her attempt to fulfill a long neglected dream.

Elise Carolina Garcia, 5th grade English teacher, was not only a talented poet and writer, she also excelled in the fine arts and her dream, since first discovering the world of paint, pencil, charcoal and canvas was to create a work of art that would one day hang in the National Museum of Women in the Arts.

“Good morning class, how is everyone doing today? I hope you have all taken a good look at the painting I brought in this week as today it will be shipped off to the museum to be included in this month’s exhibition.”

“Um…Mrs. Garcia…..I…I’m really sorry…it was an accident, honest, I was just fooling around…it wasn’t my fault!”

 

Sleep is Under Rated. Right??

I tried to sneak up on myself tonight, you know to write a 6 Sentence Story. It’s the blog hop hosted by Zoe. Yeah, that Zoe 😀  This week’s cue word is “stick

Not as easy as you think, sneaking up on yourself, so I’ve sent up a plea to the vowel gods and implored the concierge  of consonents to assist me with this, my entry for this week’s 6 Sentence Story. I mean, if the stars can occaisionally align, then why, oh why can’t the independent letters of the English alphabet align themselves into words to form a clever little story, poem, vignette….something. I mean we’re only talking 6 sentences!

It was Christmas Eve, all Currier & Ives smeared windows, picture perfect New England winter wonderland day, oh, so silent.

Slight crunching could be heard from boots trying to walk on frozen water, almost successful, treading carefully, making their way guiltily to the front door, a stick snapping in two, a precursor to events yet to unfold .

Hushed, yet not night, the sun ambled it’s way, rolling like a beach ball over the dunes towards the distant blue black horizon, to take refuge for another cycle, night following a day, always.

Life, it seemed, would never be the same, an era ending, not so much in fireworks as in the slow extinguishing of a single, solo, smoldering ember, the dying of a fire never meant to go out.

Where, when, how, do paths veer, hearts wander, intent go astray….

Christmas Day, surely was solemn as two hearts lay, torn asunder, beneath the low hanging branches of a holiday tree adorned majestically, sadly for a last time, would the star shine.