Thankful. Each. Successive Day. TToT Time.

24 hrs. I did not open the laptop since yesterday morning early. Wasn’t in me. I was am, in escape mode. (hey Lizzi! you know what I’m talkin’ about). And so, you might say I’ve got some hypo gratitudes amidst the self-indulgence (or is it more a restorative process?). Do they need to be named or identified? Naah. To do so gives them more life than they deserve. Let them starve. We’re all gathered here today (and the rest of the weekend) to enjoy the offerings of those writers who participte in the weekly hop known across time as The Ten Things of Thankful. Originally created and hosted by our friend, in the truest sense of the word, Lizzi Lewis,  its stewardship has more recently been under that of the famous wordsmithstress Josie Two Shoes. Thank you Josie for transitioning this hop.

You know, I don’t go on the FB much anymore. Every day or 2 or 3 I’ll open ‘er up. I was thinking of Michelle Liew last week. Was it fortuitous that this morning was one of those days I went on the FB? Oh yeah. Because today is Michelle’s birthday, even though her day is practically over at this writing (she lives in the future you know lol). Which is the roundabout way I came upon the reprint below. It came up in my FB feed in one of those ‘hey, look what you used to do” taunts. (no, really. not in one of those moods)

Today is about the thankfuls. The reprint? It represent all kinds of TFs. The least of which is an example of writing as if I didn’t have a care in the world, which in 2012, I surely did. And yet, it shows me that it is within my power to excel in spite of circumstance. It reminds me that all is relative. It reminds me that I am more than I could have thought I was.

Life. Music. Creativity. Choice. Good health. Friendship. Love. Family. Safety. Technology. Enjoy the vintage Girlie. I included the comments because, well, they still make me smile.

Edge remnants and such…

I have a coupla posts about the Cat.  So what?  Of mice and men, cats and magic….there but for the grace of the Cat go I.  Timelines?  Did someone mention timelines? What?  That was “timeframe”?  I see.

I’m thinkin’ I have one more post about the Cat here.  I mean, who doesn’t have a “Trilogy”?  Back to the Future, The Matrix…The Godfather.  Besides, you know what they say about trilogies.  OK, the number 3 at least…. “it happens in 3’s, they go in 3’s, 3rd times a charm”, etc.

All of us can easily conjure up on the giant screen inside our brains, famous movie  trilogies. Or recollect fondly? from our formative years the various religious references involving trilogies -Father, Son, Holy Ghost, Taoist Trilogy, the theory of clarks, scotts, rogers.…  Aren’t there 3 major food groups?  And what about the I, IV, V?  Huh? Huh?!  Triads, whether they be religious, criminal, physical or musical in nature, are significant.

Life is a triad. Can we call it a Trilogy?  There are 3 “events”: we’re born, have a “life” and  we die.  3 components that are linked and intertwined, in my humble opinion, in an Escher kind of way.  There is no starting point A that immediately and linearly produces the B that ends with the flatline C.  As a clarklike female, I prefer to think of life more like a Mobius strip and my existence as simple “configuration space”.   I know what you’re thinkin’ about now….”any minute Girlie’s gonna go off on a Pythagorean rant with a side dish of discourse regarding the importance of adhering to proper Euclidian etiquette when in the company of  well to do, hypontenustic people. LOL

……don’t worry.  I’m better now.  Sometimes when we freefloat, ponder the past, search the present or plan for the future we find ourselves veering off into all sorts of uncharted territory – landscapes morphed by memory, the litter of lingering feelings strewn along the roadsides… it’s easy to miss the paw prints.  But if we are lucky, like little Jamaal, we’ll have a shoulder upon which to perch for however brief the moment, and the world will open up again to life lessons and the Cat….

9 thoughts on “Edge remnants and such…”

  1. clarkscottroger

    Need I point out that the biped in your photo is dressed in a cat.5 Tee Shirt? Sort of a Piltdown of Doctrine Fashion

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    1. Indeed he is. Astute eye sir!
      I myself am in possession of a cat.5 tee shirt. It would be considered vintage today. It is still wearable and dare I say still in fashion. It resides in a drawer directly underneath my new Wakefield Doctrine tee shirt. And what a coincidence! Both are of a black and white design. (sigh)

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    1. Well my dear. Glad you asked and in the absence of Clark and Roger and even the Lunchbox, I shall respond to your query. They, of course, are always welcome to supplimentate. (my homage to rogerian expressions today. lol)
      The shirts were commissioned in honor, in deference to the feline, Arthur…deistically known as “the Cat”.
      Gentlemen? Anything to add?

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  2. FUCK!!! KA! KA! *

    (*standing in for Lunchbox Lennie)

    lol

    The expression at the time was, ‘he was a cat and a half’, which was to pay homage to the feline form of ‘Arthur’ the cat pictured in these last few Posts.

    Just a little more lingusitic silliness from those mental institution outmates down at Treasure Rd!!

    (linguistics YEAH I got ya lingustics!!! )

    .
    FUCK!

    Like

  3. There is no ‘in’ or ‘out’ for the mentally hamstrung. It is a frame of existence that you bring with you everywhere, and a damned good thing too. How tedious this would all be without an alternate reality or two in your back pocket.

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Yeah, put ’em Here at the Edge. All 6 Sentences.

So.  You may or may not have a writing process. I used to. I think. Or maybe I had a special time to write. Yeah, that rings a bell. Any-who, it’s 7:50 pm this Thursday evening, the 1st day of the 6 Sentence Story Bloghop hosted by the wonderful Ivy Walker. Whatsay we begin by giving Ms. Walker a rousing round of applause. She’s still hostessing strong and this week she has certainly challenged me with the word cue of the week: “TAP”. Use this word in any of it’s definitions, acronyms, you name it as long as there are 6 sentences with this cue word appearing somewhere among them, you’re golden.

She faltered in front of the non descript, narrow shelving, standing with the weight of her indecision resting  squarely, if not fully, in her left leg.

Why was this so difficult? No one needs to translate the label, no interpreter is needed to describe what her own eyes were clearly seeing but maybe that was the problem, the choices.

There’s always the option to turn around and return to the reliable, steadfast staples, the tried and true familiar, surrounding us, embracing us, day after day.

What were these breadlike “things”, these baked goods with the odd names? Look at this one, surely a misspelling, as no one, on purpose, would use that many “a”s in the spelling of a name?!

At the first tap of my foot on the industrial tiled floor of the tired supermarket, I reached for the bag that read “Guaaaracha” and thought, why not, misspelling or not, the oddly shaped, squared off ovals of breadlike bread appeared to have a light coating of sugar atop them.

The pavlovian response was unmistakable, certain to overpower last minute indecision fortified by a latent fear of the unknown, my path now leading me to checkout…

Image result for guaracha bread

Lessons, Learning, Peeking Around the Edge

Sunday. Morning. Been up for a coupla hours. Morning has always been a treasure left undiscovered. Eagerly anticipated as it was the one part of the day I could completely indulge. The space between each line uncharted territory beckoning to be discovered/revealed.  When did it stop being the most enjoyable part of my day? When did sitting comfortably, pad and pen in hand, (replaced now with white screen and keyboard) cease to be that solitary walk along the deserted beach, scoping tide washed sand for shells and sea glass and driftwood?

Who do I have to thank for sitting me down, right now and asking? Christina Perri? Pinterest for sending me links that might interest me? That Pinterest shared with me GirlieOnTheEdge’s post “Of Metal and Mayhem” from 2 years ago featuring Ms. Perri singing “Jar of Hearts” is no coincidence (actually it is but let’s roll with it). Whatever the cue that illicits emotional content, I believe I owe it to myself to follow the trail. Cueing the song for the 4th time, chorus now indelibly etched into my brain for the day.

Reminders. How important are they? Very, yes? Of course. Without them we might miss that important drs. appointment or job interview or teacher parent meeting. Daily reminders. We all need them. I don’t want to talk about those reminders though. I want to explore the “holyshitIforgotabouttheohyeah,can’tbelieveIforgotIcouldIforget” reminders. Life shit. Get where I’m going? Inside of your head, reflective, self assessing, time to review, pull down the shade, find a comfy chair and…review. Remember. Remember the stuff you told yourself not to forget.

As on most Saturday nights, I call into the Wakefield Doctrine Saturday Night Call in Show. Typically, especially these last couple of years, it’s Clark (your host), myself and more recently and consistenly, Cynthia. Now wait a darn minute! Nuh, huh…it is too very enjoyable and humorfilled and….informative.  When it’s only us clarks, there is much identification going on, many reveals and “aha’s” and in general “no shits!” and yes, it can be a wild time lol. Who says a three way conversation among clarks is boring. It’s not always about the Doctrine ya know. Well, actually how can it not be?

As I suspected, I’ve veered a bit off course. Retrospection, if done properly can be a valuable tool. Recollection without the indulgence of feeling bad, can be a valuable tool. Remembering to remember can be a valuable tool. Thanks to Clark last night, I remembered some things that naturally I’d forgotten. Funny, I made a comment about being in denial (the usual life shit, where am I, what am I, why, why not) and Clark pointed out that when an individual is in a state of denial, they are not consciously aware they’re in denial. Example? If someone sees white, when it is black. They see only white. They do not know it is black because for that person, it is white. So how much of what I see or don’t see has it’s roots embedded in denial? How can I know I’m in a state of denial? Does that imply someone, other than myself, should be telling me how it really is? How’s that for a big ole can of squirming, radioactive worms?! LOL

I’m fairly certain I’ve lost most folks. In fact, I may have even lost the clarks! It’s a rambling, self indulgent kinda day today – it’s a reminder today. To look so that I can see without prejudice, that which is in front of me, surrounding me. What is it I refuse to see? Cannot recognize? When will I know, how can I know those times I’m in denial? Can I rescue my own self? Gee, thank you brother. You’ve always got my back 😀

One of my favorite TV characters, a clark, was all about finding the truth. He insisted the “truth was out there”.  Am I ready for the truth? I know this clip will totally resonate with my people. Here’s to a TToT weekend for yes, this is a TToT post. The thankfuls? They’re out there. Just have to find them.

#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?

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.