~~~
Never underestimate a smile.
One heart-felt smile directed at a soul
Can lift the fog of sadness, shift the weight of worry,
Release the mind from tension that was siphoning its strength,
And help the wounded spirit become whole.
~~~
Visit Cee’s Photography to learn how to participate and share your own world.

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Question # 1: You win a pet monkey but this isn’t just any old monkey. It can do one trick for you whenever you want from getting a pop out of the fridge to washing your hair. What would be the trick?
Eeeewwwwwe!!! I hate monkeys so that takes care of that question. No monkey would ever find a place in my home as a pet, nor would I let one do anything that connected it with my food, my hair, or my possessions. Okay, on to question 2.
Question # 2: What caring thing are you going to do for yourself today?
Well this day is coming to a close as I write this post, but I did do something caring for myself. I visited my sister and spent the afternoon with her. We had a blessed time, and it made us both happy to have the time together.
Question # 3: What color do you feel most comfortable wearing?
There is no answer to that question. I wear so many different colors, and I am comfortable in all of them, or I wouldn’t wear them. I love color, and I indulge in wearing a large variety of colors on a regular basis. About the only color that I do not enjoy — whether in clothes, accessories, or decorations of any kind — is orange.
Question # 4: Complete this sentence: When I travel I love to …
When I travel, I love to take my time and enjoy things at my own tempo. I do not like to feel pressed to get up super early in order to make it to breakfast by a certain time, nor do I want to have to call it a night when I’m still enjoying whatever activity I’m involved in. I don’t enjoy being rushed through activities, and I love going to places that allow me some time to sit and soak up the atmosphere and just ‘be.’
Bonus Question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
I’m super grateful for a friend who fixed the terribly leaky faucet in my bathtub. I’m also grateful that his wife gave me a gorgeous lighthouse cookie jar — because they know how much I love lighthouses — and cookies.
This coming week, I’m looking forward to FINALLY finishing the novel I’ve been posting recently on this blog one chapter at a time. Since I started this particular book almost four years ago and resorted to posting it here in order to FORCE myself to get it finished, I’m going to feel super relieved when it’s done. I’ve actually written two other novels and seen them published since I started the one that has been giving me such a struggle. But I can now see the light at the end of the tunnel for May I Borrow Your Love. In case any of you readers have missed it on here and want to check it out, here’s the link to Chapter One.
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~~~

Like a stream running through the mountains,
Like a cool wind sweeping o’er the plains,
Like a river rushing to the ocean,
Like blood coursing through the veins,
Like a current running through a cable,
Like a song swirling through the mind,
Like inspiration flowing through the poet,
Like compassion coursing through the kind,
So love for you is running through my soul,
Super-charging me; causing me to grow,
Reminding me that loving makes us whole.
***

~~~

I surely do miss my mom, but I’m hoping at least some of her good qualities live on in me.
I think I remember my dad telling me (as he took the picture) to act like I was looking at something in the oven, but since our oven didn’t have a glass in the door, I just look a little bit stupid. Oh, well anything for a family photo.
~~~
The sun was low in the sky and to my back. I lay on the ground, looking up at the clouds and turning them into all sorts of things. One looked very much like a turtle. One like a smiley face, since it had two holes where the blue peaked through, giving it eyes, and another opening that really did look surprisingly like a grin on a child’s face. One of the clouds looked a little like an old school teacher I’d had who wore her hair piled high on her head in a beehive style. Boy, did that thought give way to pondering where time has gone.
Suddenly, I heard a branch crack behind me. Now, I’m not normally skittish, but this cracking sound was loud enough that I knew it must have been more than just the normal activity of birds or squirrels in the bushes. And, since I was in my own back yard, with a fence around the perimeter, there shouldn’t have been any other creatures – human or otherwise – setting foot beyond that fence uninvited. I didn’t welcome that sound.
I didn’t sit up immediately, but sort of rolled my head to look toward my left first – and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then I rolled my head toward the right side, and on the ground beside me I saw the shadow of a huge head – not human – but obviously belonging to a beast of a different sort. My heartbeat went into double time, but I just lay there sort of frozen. As I watched, fighting down panic as well as I could, the shadow moved, coming forward and revealing the shoulder area, two legs, and an enormous frame.
I thought about praying, but the words stuck in my throat. I suppose I did manage a silent cry for help, but my primary thought was how to manage rising from my vulnerable position without seeming a threat to said beast and prompting a vicious attack on my person. I contemplated what I had available as a weapon. Well, there was a broken branch or two close by that had blown from a few surrounding trees during a recent windstorm. I glanced again to my left to see if I might be able to reach out for one without actually moving the rest of my body.
As I did so, I felt rather than saw the beast move closer to me. Frantically, I scanned the area to my left, but found no branches big enough to provide weaponry. Just small twigs and several old leaves. Not even a big rock. Finally, I decided that I couldn’t just lie there any longer. If I did so, I was obviously going to be dead meat, and just maybe my jumping up quickly would be enough to throw off the beast’s attention and give me time to start running.
Okay. I squeezed my eyes shut and psyched myself to do it, but just as I opened my eyes, the huge shadow suddenly loomed right over my head, and I knew it was hopeless to try to escape. I could hear it breathing in my ear. Then I really did decide to pray, because if this were to be my home-going, I wanted to be ready. I squeezed my eyes shut again, bracing myself for the impact of the attack, when to my greater shock, something sloppy wet took hold of my right ear. The next thing I knew something else cold and wet nudged me in the side of my neck. And then my face was being slathered with slobber from my chin to my temple. What was it doing? Tasting me to see if I merited being eaten?
I put my hand up to try to cover my face, and when I did, this little furry body just sort of threw itself at my hand and started whining and wriggling, trying to get my hand away. Well, the body attacking mine was so much smaller than I had anticipated that I decided I could open my eyes and chance a look. So I opened one eye and squinted between my fingers, which I still had pressed against my face, and what I saw brought me into a sitting position roaring with laughter.
The little yellow lab puppy who was pouncing me and trying to give me a bath in his saliva couldn’t have been more than three or four months old. So this was the beast I’d seen in shadow form? Surely I wasn’t foolish enough to have made a mistake like that. But upon making the effort to sit upright fully and look around me in all directions, I realized that, sure enough, this little pup and I were the sole occupants of my huge back yard. He was little enough he could have squeezed under the fence if he’d had a mind to. And on further reflection, I realized that considering how low in the sky the sun had been, if it had been shining just right on that little fellow’s body, he would have thrown a shadow many times larger than his real size.
I grabbed the little guy and took him onto my lap, giving him a few good scratches behind the ears and a thorough belly rub. While doing so, I thought about how so many of the problems in my life had looked bigger than life and had threatened to destroy me. But, in truth, when I had finally decided to stand up to them and look them square in the eye and recognize them for exactly what they were and nothing more, I had forced them to show their true identity. And when all was said and done, they were always smaller than I was, and I had eventually defeated every one of them.
I determined to make a lasting mental note of my experience that day and to remember the lesson I’d learned from that little fellow with the monster shadow: Never judge a problem – or a puppy – by its fearsome shadow.
~
To participate visit Daily Post Prompts.
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Sanaa, over at “A Dash of Sunny” asked us to write a poem or prose piece inspired by our favorite author (or favorite quote) for this week’s challenge. To participate in the fun, follow the link to visit her site and get the details.

I don’t have a favorite author.
Oh … wait … yes I do!
It is I.
Okay, I know that sounds quite pompous, and the truth is that there are scores of authors whose works I love to read. Normally, I am reading at least three different books at any given time. Some of them I read over and over and over and over. So, obviously, those authors have great influence on me, and I like them — I really do.
But to be totally honest (and I’m talking mainly about fiction now), I rarely read a book that I don’t want to change in at least one or two places. Most of the time, I’d have the hero or heroine exhibit just a little bit different characteristics — or I’d have one of them decide to act or react differently. And sometimes, even in books I enjoy, I really want the ending to be different.
So, when it’s all said and done, the truth simply is that, although there are myriads of excellent authors out there, my favorite stories are the ones where people are the kind of people want them to be, where things work the way I want them to work, and where the end results of all the activity are the end results I want. In order to get those things, I have to be the author. I don’t think I’ve ever written a perfect book. But neither has anyone else. So if I want what I want the way I want it and when I want it, then I’m going to have to write it myself.
So … yeah … I guess I am my favorite author. Now, there’s just one problem with that situation: I can’t just sit down and relax and read a story for the pleasure of reading if I have to do the actual writing myself. So I’m more than grateful for the thousands of other authors out there whose books I can pick up and carry with me to my favorite chair, where I kick back with a steamy cup of coffee beside me, and delve into the world they’ve created their way. Now, if I could just stop wanting to tweak a character here and a plot line there ….
~~~
Abandon your fears. Abandon your insecurities. Abandon your doubts. Abandon your past failures. Abandon the negative words others have spoken concerning your abilities or your future. Abandon the so-called ‘friends’ who do not help draw you to your best and highest.
Life is too short to live it in fear, doubt, and the faulty judgments of other people. If you’re going to get anything out of this life, you’re going to have to put a lot into it. And you can’t do that if you’re constantly afraid or second-guessing because of past failures or someone else’s opinions.
Stand up and lay hold of this day in faith. God made you, so He loves you. And because He made you, He obviously has a plan for you. So get hold of Him today (you can find Him by calling on Jesus Christ) and find out what His delightful plan is for your life. Then get started carrying it out.
Abandon what is negative, dark, and destructive. Seize what is positive, light, and life-giving. Then go out there and LIVE!
~
~~~
I haven’t had a chance to participate in Friday Fictioneers in a while, and I’m just getting in under the wire this week. But the picture conjured up this little story, and I couldn’t pass up sharing it. The picture prompt is courtesy of Mary Shipman. My story is below the picture.

SALES APPEAL
“Pops, when you asked me to come and help with the store, I had no idea you’d been losing money the past ten years. What’s the deal with all these tools and auto parts? And your line of pipe and chewing tobacco is weighing down the shelves.”
“I’m just well-stocked.”
“But your only customers the month I’ve been here are genteel ladies. They don’t buy that stuff.”
“Yeah, the men never shop here.”
“Well, get me the ladder. I’ll fix that.”
(Two hours later)
“Ivan, you can’t hang all those women’s undergarments from the rafters! It will embarrass our customers.”
“Not the customers we’re after. You just wait and see. We’ll have men customers coming out our ears by next week.”
~~~

I’m a musician. I play keyboard instruments mainly. Over the years, I’ve had the pleasure of using my talents to entertain in various venues, to minister as organist and choir director for two different churches, to help facilitate weddings and funerals for scores of families, to compose and orchestrate numerous songs, and to teach others to use their gifts and talents to bless the world with music from their own keyboards.
These days I rarely sit down to a musical keyboard. Instead, I’m nearly glued to the kind of keyboard that is attached to a desktop or laptop computer. For, you see, I’m also a writer. Now, some people feel that I have left music behind as I’ve devoted so much of myself to the writing. But you know what? I’ve discovered a truth that, ten years ago, I may not have even thought about:
I’ve discovered that music — true music — doesn’t come from a keyboard on a piano, an organ, or an accordion. Nor does it come from a horn, a guitar, a violin, or any other instrument. On the contrary, music comes from the soul. It’s the melody, the harmony, and the rhythm of life that courses through our beings and finds its release through any number of avenues. Frequently, it is released through instruments constructed for that specific purpose, but the music of the soul is also released through words.
I find that I’m releasing the music of my soul constantly as my fingers whisk over the letter keys of my laptop. I’m letting all those melodies, harmonies, and rhythms of life course through me to touch every reader. And when those readers are touched, my words create emotions, thoughts, actions, and reactions as surely as the strains of sound vibrating from a piano or a horn. I’m calling to and capturing the soul of the reader as surely as the chords from a guitar call and capture the soul of the listener.
It is not the instrument that creates the music. In truth, the music is created from the deepest part of our being and simply seeks an avenue — any avenue — of expression. So, personally, I believe I am offering music to the world through the words that flow from my soul onto the page as surely as I have offered it in the past from the keyboard that sent forth vibrations of sound.
So, my fellow writers — let the music play.
~
~~~

*
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Cinquain # 30: Done
Adieu,
NaPoWriMo.
It seems I passed the test.
At least I gave it my best shot.
Now, rest.
~~~
Cinquain # 29: Love’s Sight
Some say
That love is blind.
Not so. Instead I find
True love seeks out and focuses
On good.
~~~