Monica – Monica

 

telephone, originally uploaded by joujoubee.

The phone’s been ringing lately
And when I say hello
It’s someone else for Monica
I tell them I don’t know
Who she is they want to reach
I have to teach them
That her old number
Is not at her old home

Monica – Monica
Where are you now?
The friends keep phoning
But you’re nowhere
To be found
I try to keep explaining
That I live here now
Monica – Monica
Oh, where are you now!

Most of the voices asking
Have an accent too
I try to speak some Spanish
But some don’t have a clue
Monica – Monica
You could have called
Them up
And told them you were moving
Instead they’re all upset

Monica – Monica
What happened to you dear?
I keep on getting wrong numbers
And you’re in the clear
I cannot take a message
For I don’t know where
You are
Monica – Monica
You left me in a stall

Monica – Monica
It’s time for you to say
Exactly where you are
So your friends and family
Don’t worry
So they won’t be afraid
They really miss you Monica
And I’m tired of answering
My phone
To find the caller is for you
They need to leave me alone!

Written 12:51 PM February 24, 2009
Theresa H. Hall
Copyright 2009

Good-bye Spencer

We are saddened by the loss of our dear friend Spencer.  What a wonderful golden dog he was and he was loved by his Human Dad and Mom so much.  He changed their lives and made a home with them for over two years.  

Please visit his web-site and go back over the years to read his story and see for yourself just how special Spencer is.  

Bobby and I always think of him as our Dancing Dog!  Good-bye for the time being Spencer. Until we meet again.

Raindrops And Tree Forts

Amazing when ones thinks about it.  Raindrops herald the life giving liquid the entire world needs in order to exist.  Right now the raindrops sound a little bit sporadic and huge whilst they splatter against the skylights.  At first, I thought one of the cats was scratching on the carpeted stairs until I realized the sound was echoing all around me. It reminds me of being in a tree fort on a summer’s day and the rain beginning to drop upon the wooden rooftop.

I used to smoke cigarettes and frankly I began smoking at the tender age of eleven. This after I had experimented with the lighting of tobacco a bit during the previous two years.  By the time I was eleven I was a true, full-blown smoker.  Later in life it would take me eight times to finally break this horrid habit and end up with the effects of asthma.  If only I never smoked has entered my mind many times.  But getting back to the rain on the tree fort, I recall reaching into my Wrangler peddle-pusher-pants to draw out the partially crushed cigarette package.  I tried many of the blended tobaccos until finally, I settled on mentholated ones called KOOL.  

Striking the match I watched as the red flint burst into red, yellow-orangish fireworks at the end of the cardboard matchstick.  Once lit the flame would settle into a clear, blue and red flame.  if you exhaled too much breath it would extinguish the whole deal and you would have to begin again.  Touching the lit match to the end of the cold cylinder of paper bound tobacco, I would get excited knowing I would draw this tube’s air inward in order to begin puffing on the smoke.  Inhaling the smoke from the tobacco was satisfying and sometimes when I had smoked one, I would remove a fresh cigarette and light it from the burning tip of the first. I was completely hooked and to this day, I remain addicted to the nicotine.  What a shame!

I loved smoking and being hidden from the world in the tree fort.  If it rained, then so much the better as I felt withdrawn and secluded.  Private if you will.  My rising sign is Scorpio and my Venus is in the sign of Cancer. The scorpion and the crab.  No wonder I loved being able to burrow in and gaze out at the world.

The rain has stopped and even though I am tucked away in the loft I feel as if it is a tree fort, but this time it is smoke free.

Facing The Mountain

Presently I am sitting at my dining room table and drinking my coffee.  This is a good place to reflect upon matters.  Looking out the balcony door I am allowed to view a majestic but small mountain.  I recall when I was in ninth grade we moved to Virginia and I could see the tops of the Blue Ridge Mountains, in the distance.  It feels reassuring to have these gentle giants nearby.

What’s Wrong With This Picture?

Why on earth would someone on trial for the horrific murder of her roommate be wearing such a pleased expression?  In this photograph, Amanda Knox is being led to the courtroom in Italy, where she and her boyfriend are being tried for the murder and sexual assault of her British roommate, fifteen months before.  You can read all about it here.

The point is this is terribly serious and her almost delighted body language makes me wonder what is going on in her mind.  It seems a bit twisted to me, because guilty or innocent, a somber expression might be more appropriate?

Burying the Hatchet

Burying the proverbial hatchet or choosing to look at something as water under the bridge sometimes depends upon just how big a deal the circumstance actually was. There is an old saying, “Harden Not Thy Heart,” which to me means that if you feel discord, anger, hate or animosity toward a person, place, thing or event, then the repercussions can be harmful and perhaps even fatal to your health.

Perhaps the most forgiven people in our lives are our very own siblings or relatives.  You know, they are the ones who are closest and can drive home their weapon of choice. Be it a look, a gesture, a lengthy or profound silence, one or more harsh words, or the razor-sharp instrument of their tongue .. while not real, it surely feels as if it could be when it pierces our hearts. Yes words have a way of dealing blows and cutting us to the quick.

Recently I had a huge incident within my close knit tribe and even though I was the injured party and, I had a right to my justifiable indignation and invariably pissed-off emotions, the whole mess left me feeling guilty for feeling anger, hurt and speaking words I would later regret saying.  These are folks I love I argue with myself and I cannot believe they are acting this way and (this time) I was the injured party.  It does me no good to go over and re-hash our conversation or view again in my mind’s eye the whole unpleasant scene.  I find my reaction is what really ends up hurting me the most.

It is true to bury the hatchet, let bygones be bygones and that it is water under the bridge tends to soften the blow and in time the feelings have their own way of recuperating.  The best advice is to make up as quickly as possible for we know not how long we have upon Mother Ship Earth.  Why not be at peace and forgive, which only really means to let it go.

Watch My Friend’s Video

Frog The Dog 

Invisible Faith

Walking the walk toward your end goal is hard enough, but when the tides seem impossibly high, this is the time to stick to your guns and hold fast to your belief … that everything will work out fine. Adversity has a habit of rearing its ugly head, especially when you could be feeling low or when your faith wanes.  Stand strong, put your blinders on and forge forward.  The way may not seem crystal clear and there are those who try to keep you from attaining your good, but shrug them off as if they are dry brittle leaves which can only do good to the soil beneath your feet.  Hold firmly to the dreams you have envisioned and all will be well.  Your future will be as bright as a new shiny coin.

Happy Birthday Daisy!

One of the sweetest kitties I have ever known is celebrating her fifth birthday today.  Daisy The Curly Cat is a high profile blog which has become very popular over the past couple of years.  Daisy is a fashionista and is a generous little lady who loves sharing with her new little brother, Harley.  A resident of sunny Florida, Daisy has a disposition to match the golden weather.  Always a pleasure to read she keeps her friends and audience involved with her day-to-day life, her pets, her strolls in her stroller and a closet full of cute costumes.  She deserves everything wonderful.

Here is a photograph of an outfit my Bobby sent to her a few months ago as a surprise.

She is pretty in pink and a real live princess.  We love you Daisy and we highly recommend visiting her blog as a way to jump-start your day.

 

Separate Spaces

While he is in his downstairs studio making loud musical sounds, I am upstairs in the loft where I have strategically placed my studio.  I can hear him but now we do not share the same area.  This is so much better as I can think and he doesn’t need to hear me asking him to please turn down the volume.

When I used to sing for my bread and butter, I stood on stages where my position always ended up in front of the drums with my ears on the same level as the crash cymbals.  Naturally, the bass amplifier was behind me and the guitar amplifier was to my right.  The keyboards were usually further to the right.  It is true that we had monitors for the vocals and that they were on the floor, facing upwards.    

They might have thought this was fair, my having the monitors, but they always seemed to keep turning up the little buttons on their instruments.  As the evening wore on and the dancing revelers were singing and shouting, I would be surrounded by a cacophony of music, noise and an overabundance of levels.  My brain had to process these, my ears felt overwhelmed and I had the distinct disadvantage of having to expend loads of energy to force more sound out in order to compete with their beer induced frenzies.  No wonder I used to sleep twelve and fourteen hours a day.

We were excellent musicians and kept the crowds going, but it took it’s toll on my vocal chords and my ear drums.  It has been over a decade since I performed and I find myself hankering for the stage once more.  There is still a lot of music left inside me and I am toying with the idea of getting another band together.  It truly is a great release of pent-up emotions and creative juices.

By the way, I might have had to compete with their sound levels but I had so many good times that I suppose I wouldn’t have traded them at all.  Memories when they are good are the spice of life.

Squeals Of Delight

My new backyard is now filled with the shouts of children playing when their teachers let them out of the school building for their much anticipated recess.  There is a torrent of words, laughter and the occasional blare of the teacher’s whistle.  The school children run, run and run.  They let out their pent-up tension gained from sitting under the watchful eyes of their lesson givers.  Outside, they are free to exhaust any anxieties, exercise their restless little bodies and let the wind whip their hair and the cold air kiss their cheeks.

Much different than having a major highway behind the end our our old backyard.  And it’s a delightful change of which I heartilly approve.

My desk is finally assembled.  It’s new home is high up, in the loft.   The whirl of the overhead fan is making the air circulate round and up and down.  It has been fridgid as of late and although heat rises, the fan is making me feel a bit chilled.  Time to pull on the little chain in order to allow the air to warm up again.

My chair with the wheels hasn’t been brought upstairs yet, so I am presently seated upon a metal one which has the capibility to fold.  It’s very handy to take about and provides one a place to have a respite, however it is hard, cold and unforgiving to a shorter person, for the end of the seat just happens to cut off the circulation from the seated person’s legs.  Namely mine.  Time to get up and walk about.  Good to be in the new digs and ready to write everyday.  See you soon.  Love and peace.