And so it begins…

What happens when you find yourself falling in love with your very best friend? Do you simply relax and enjoy the ride? Do you fight it for all you’re worth… afraid that it’ll ruin things forever? Or do you stand down…run like hell leaving both relationships to dissipate like a cloud of dust after a windstorm on the prairie? Well, if you’re anything like me you wind up wanting to do all of the above— simultaneously, and then some.

You’ve got a wealth of emotion riding on your sleeve with every waking moment… not to mention the ever so romantic horse drawn carriage rides you take together in your dreams. Where did this come from? Has it been hidden, ever so conspicuously, just below the surface… just out of reach… waiting to smite you into the tailspin of a lifetime? Come on it’s your best friend. You’ve known all along that there was a helluva connection but you both thought it was strictly platonic… until that fateful day when the rubber (no pun intended) hit the road. It happened so suddenly… so suddenly that the fireworks that would have gone off  in your head were silenced by the sound of your own beating heart. You became entangled in a rapture of love, no holds barred, get it and give it where you live type of affair never before seen or felt. An affair that would break all the rules, stand the test of time and stand the test of writing, making and breaking new rules of engagement for people throughout history.

How do you handle this when its too good to let go; you know, too scary to fathom, not to mention too nerve racking to fully embrace such an outlandish notion. Who does this? Do people in their right minds really allow this type of nonsense to happen? Well they do, it does, and it has.

And So It Begins…

 

 

Six months blogging – re-share number one

Thought I’d start off with this one. (It kinda makes you think…) Enjoy

Ramblings

Ever wonder what it would be like to be someone else? No, really, what if we could swap places with someone for 24 hours. Who would you swap with? President Obama? Angelina Jolie? Oprah Winfrey or how about Bill Gates? Now keep in mind- all that glitters isn’t gold and the grass isn’t always greener on the other side, so you definitely gotta be careful what you wish for.

Wanna know who Runaway Nuns and Leprechauns would swap with? ….. It would very likely be “Mr Jones”. No, not the “keeping up with the Joneses’” Mr Jones. The Mr Jones who walks from town to town, rain or shine (snow or sleet) with holes in his shoes, sleeping in parks or in the woods or under the bridge. See, the Mr Jones we’re talking about is homeless. We see him every other day or so and we often offer him food or coffee or conversation. Several months ago during one of our many rainy days we gave him a raincoat, dry shoes and a backpack with a change of clothes. So why would we change places with a homeless man? For these  simple reasons:  to be more appreciative for our blessings  and to give Mr Jones a chance to “come in out of the cold”.

Swapping places with someone famous could get you fame for a day. Swapping places with someone rich could get you a pocket full of coins and friends you didn’t know existed. Swapping places with someone homeless could help you learn to count your blessings, to be more compassionate, and to pay it forward in the biggest way.

What if you were asked to swap places with someone who was well known in the area, who had enough money, and who wasn’t homeless? Would you do it? How about if that person was shunned by many members of society? Would you still do it?

My Big Guy

My Word Press avatar is a photo of my Chocolate Labrador Retriever, Jean- Lucca Raffiki. I have become quite fond of writing recently, and it is through this medium that I will grieve his loss. This morning, I had to make the most difficult decision of my adult life. I had to have “my Lucca” euthanized. I won’t go into detail about why I had to make that decision, but I will say that it was the only choice I had.

For the next few days I will share memories through poetry, comments, short stories and posts in general. I hope this helps me, you and anyone else grieving the loss of the type of companion I found in my big guy.

NaPoWriMo Day 7

The following is an excerpt from the  NaPoWriMo prompt for day 5—…”Love poems are a staple of the poetry scene. It’s pretty hard to be a poet and not write a few – or a dozen – or maybe six books’ worth. But because so many love poems have been written, there are lots of clichés. Fill your poems with robins and hearts and flowers, and you’ll sound more like a greeting card than a bard. So today, I challenge you to write a “loveless” love poem”.

Here is my poem:

  Goes Without Saying

Who does things this way?

This can’t be real life
No pain no heartache
No equivocal strife
Beautiful, encompassing
Strengthening with time
Circumventing hard spots
With moves of a mime
Binary bliss
A harmonious duet
Exhilaration unparalleled
Euphoria’s silhouette

A single mom, but not for real——

A single mom, but not for real——-

According to dictionary.com, basically the definition of the word single is as follows:

sole, lone, solitary, by itself/oneself, alone, unaccompanied, unsupported by others

I’ve come to realize quite a few things as a single mom. Among those things this one stands out…

I may be single, but I’m definitely not alone, unaccompanied or unsupported—-

My support system consists of…

(1)my 22 year old daughter (2)Runaway Nun #2 (3) my mom (4)my older brother (5)my younger brother and (6) my daughters’ godmother

Recently we celebrated my 98 pound chocolate Lab, Lucca’s, sixth birthday. I refer to him as my boy because he is such a big part of our family- he loves us and we love him. We had a full fledged birthday party for him, complete with party hats, decorations and a piñata. In a not- so- brilliant move, I gave him one of those foot long Wal Mart bones as a gift. We also have a Morkie and a Yorkie Poo so I put my big guy in his room and put the baby gate up so that they wouldn’t disturb him (or be eaten by him) while he enjoyed his gift.

My 10 year old daughter and Lucca are extremely close. He often sleeps with/on her and I believe he would protect her with his own life. Here’s where things go bad…and my next not- so- brilliant move… I neglected to remind my little girl NOT to disturb him either.  Well, she did and he snapped at her. Unfortunately, his snap was quicker than her jump back and he made contact with her face-with his teeth. Yes, he bit her in her face. He did one of those barking snaps, the kind that would normally serve as a warning (except she was too close and not fast enough to avoid his teeth). She let out a blood curdling scream and when I got to her she was in full panic/pain mode. Initially, I thought he’d merely frightened her, but the moment I saw the blood, I knew better. I immediately yelled at him and quarantined him to his kennel then I grabbed her and tried to console her and check her injuries. She was reluctant to let me get a good look at her face so I ushered her into the bathroom to get a better look and then decided to take her to the hospital to have it checked by a doctor. Before going to the hospital, Runaway Nun #2 vowed to join us as soon as she secured the house and the other dogs, and in my third and final not- so- brilliant move of the evening- I took my little girl to my mom’s house to get a second opinion. She took one look and told me to take her to the hospital.

I called my little girl’s godmother and she met us at the hospital. After checking in, I called my older daughter and told her what happened. She panicked, I calmed her down, then she asked if her little sister was ok (in about 15 different ways). When she was comfortable that she (her little sister) would survive, she asked if Lucca was ok. I assured her that the hospital visit was just a precautionary measure, that Lucca was home, kenneled and lucky to be alive- but alive, and I promised to call after we saw the doctor.

While waiting to see the doctor I received a call from my older brother. He had spoken with my mother and called to

1. ask if his niece was ok and

2. ask if I needed him to come home from the West coast and kill my dog

I calmly told him that

1. I was positive that she was fine and

2. I DID NOT need him to kill my dog

…things went downhill from there…..

Oh my little girl was, in fact, just fine. She suffered some superficial lacerations on her nose, upper lip and just under her eye. We waited over three hours in the ER to see a doctor and finally left without being seen; by then I’d had a chance to get a good look at her face and it was obvious that she didn’t need stitches (some warm soapy water to clean it and some antibiotic ointment, but no stitches).

The fact that we didn’t see a doctor went unchallenged but my unwillingness to either kill or get rid of Lucca became the hot (over heated) topic of the hour…day…and week! I received so many calls from my older brother that night that I stopped answering his calls. The next morning my younger brother called and gave me his advice – saying that obviously Lucca did not regard my little girl as an alpha figure in our house. He said that Lucca should see himself as #5 in the pecking order with the humans representing numbers one thru four. God knows I love that man and although I know Lucca’s a pretty smart fellow, I’ve never seen him count, so this piece of advice sort of fell on deaf ears.

Now on to my older brother-again…. he sent “nasty grams” to me and my older daughter over and over again throughout the next few days and he vowed to “hold us responsible” if Lucca ever injured my little girl again. He also said that “clearly” I wasn’t putting my little girl’s well-being ahead of my love for my dog. He told me (thru text message) to “get rid of the dog”—

God knows I love that man too and I know he’s brilliant and he loves my little girl but damn- NOBODY LOVES HER LIKE I DO-  so I refused to allow him to make this kind of decision for me or to bullyrag me into doing something I would regret.

My little girl cried when I suggested we make Lucca an outside dog and when I told her that my older brother said we should get rid of him she said “he never had a dog or a pet”—-

I took her to her pediatrician the day after the bite for a tetanus shot and Lucca was up to date on all of his shots before the bite.

My older daughter asked my little girl if she is afraid of Lucca now and she said “a little” (I think it’s a healthy fear- she gives him his space when he’s eating and she avoids leaning over in his face- at all). Also, I monitor the two of them (like a hawk) when they’re around one another.

As a single mom I am truly blessed to have such a strong supportive- support system. I love  each and every one of them with all my heart and I am so very grateful to God that they love me and my girls so much—-

P.S. these people are the reason that I am

                      A single mom, but not for real———

A Winning Hand

We were thrilled to be featured on belleofthecarnival.com today. In our haste and excitement, we failed to edit and re-edit our description so there are a couple of grammatical errors. No biggie, we think you’ll get the gist of it and we’re certain that you’ll enjoy the poem “A Winning Hand”.

Belle of the Carnival

I am overjoyed to share with all of you Rochelle Harris’s warm and touching poem “A Winning Hand” on this Poetry Friday.
A winning hand
Runaway Nuns and Leprechauns is a collaborated effort created by me, Rochelle,  the primary writer, the jokester and the wild child and my partner in crime, Yevette, the editor in chief, prayer warrior, and resident heckler.
I grew up in a very small town in Mississippi. My grandmother was the “Mother” of the Baptist church in our rural community. One Sunday during the Easter season, the Sunday school teachers were assigning parts for the upcoming play. I stepped up and said to the teacher “I want one”. Although I was only 4 years old my grandmother assured the teacher that I was capable of memorizing and reciting a poem.
I was so excited that I learned my poem in record time but,,, when I got up the following…

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Renewal of Faith

Today is Monday of the Second Week in Lent and by now, like most failed New Year’s Resolutions, quite a few of us have already given in to what we “gave up”. Some of us are worried or ashamed, but the good news is that there is still time to make good on our commitments or even make new commitments. Each day is a new day and each Sunday is a mini Easter, as our priest preaches and teaches. He also teaches that it’s not so much about giving up, but giving – of ourselves – our time, our money and our talents. We should focus on almsgiving, fasting, praying and volunteering. Father’s homily inspired us to increase our tithes and our prayer times.

Whether we have been faithful to our Lenten commitments or not, let’s re-examine them and determine how much more of ourselves we can give. In Luke 6:36-38, Jesus tells the disciples:

“Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

Stop judging and you will not be judged.

Stop condemning and you will not be condemned.

Forgive and you will be forgiven.

Give and gifts and will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down and overflowing will be poured into your lap.

For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.”

These are simple instructions to live by, right? Yes, if we put our faith and trust in God.