The Mirror

I once had a mirror
I never looked into it
I would rush past it
As if I were afraid of my own reflection.

Then one day I paused
And caught a glimpse
Of this creature looking back
I marvelled at my own fear and loathing.

Now the mirror
lies inside my heart
A reflection ever shining
On the peace that lies within my battered soul.

--P.B.

The countdown...

It's Monday, and possibly one of the longest work weeks in history is about to follow. Why? Because I am going on vacation Friday, therefore each day this week will seem like a friggin' eternity! Me and my friend B are going on our second cruise. We went 2 years ago, and vowed that we would go again at the ripe age of 40. Well, we decided that was too long to wait. And I'm glad, because I need to get outta town...outta country...outta here. I don't think I have ever needed a vacation more...I have lots of stuff on my mind, and need this time to sort it out...stuff I have been shelving until this trip. Stuff like long-term goals, priorities, relationships. I need a clear head to think this stuff through.
I spent my entire weekend cleaning my house and my car...I guess you could attribute this to "spring fever", or the need to make things like new. As busy and stressed as I have been lately, it seems like I would have found something relaxing to do for my only 2 off days. But not me. I do my best work when I'm stressed or under pressure...just ask my friend, B! *wink*
So here's the question for the day...how do you function under pressure? Whether it's work, play, home...when extreme pressure is applied, do you freak out, run away, or become alarmingly calm? Just curious...

Summer is on it's way...so soon, we will all feel like this. This photo was forwarded to me, so I can't give the photographer credit...but it conveys so much without saying a word. WHEW! Happy Southeast AR summer. 

Stop the presses...

Good afternoon, everyone...
I know none of you will believe it, but I have accidentally discovered a means to make myself speechless, or at least unable to speak in sentences.

Do you want to know how this was accomplished?

Really simply...

Zyrtec.

One little pill, and I'm bobbin' and weavin' like Sugar Ray...I'm slurring like Ali (No dis, I love Ali.) Honestly, I do feel punch-drunk. And my friggin' eyelids weigh at least a stone each. (refer to Brit dictionary). So...after work? I'm gonna take a nap so I will be able to lay down and sleep tonight. Doesn't make any sense does it?

WTF? Do I hear buzzing??? Ohhhhhh....it's my headddddzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Tomorrow...I'll try again tomorrow...

The Burt Factor

It's is important to recognize and acknowledge the people who, in their own unique way, enrich our lives by sharing knowledge, gifts and talents. I cannot deny that I am my father's daughter, to the letter. The older I get, the more I become like him. I just hope my hairstyle doesn't follow suit.....heeheehee. (he's bald) But my dad is the best and most unique dad ever. In the past several years, I have come to think of my dad more as a friend, and he has become a welcomed addition to my very short and distinquished list.
One of the earliest memories I have of daddy is his Gibson flat top. That's an acoustic guitar for those who are wondering. He has played longer than I have been alive, and no one plays like him. I can remember many nights, sitting on the couch with mom, TV off, listening to dad strum that beautiful old guitar. He could make it sing...and he would sing, too. Dad, despite his sometimes gruff appearance, has a beautiful, clear, soft singing voice. We would sit for hours and enjoy his renditions of Marty Robbins songs and many others. We, as kids, were so blessed to have musical parents. Mom could play the keys off a piano, and we learned to sing standing around that old green upright. But there was something different about that guitar...the sound my dad evoked from it has never been duplicated by anyone else to this day. I have heard others play it, including my virtuoso brother Bob, my dad's namesake.
But it never sounds so sweet as when RCB commands it's six simple strings...thank you daddy, for your gift of music. It is a unique priviledge to be associated with such gifted family, and I will never take it for granted. Thank you, too, for your words of wisdom and encouragement...because of you, I'm gonna 'keep on pullin'.
The pictures below are of a recent pickin' we had at dads. It is a regular occurance when BB comes home. I'm ready for another jam, so BB come home soon!

Two of my fave folks here...my brother, the incredibly talented beyond belief BB, and on the right, the bass man himself, Mr. Morgan. These guys can jam...for real. 

Every time my brother BB comes home for a visit, we get together and jam...I LOVE IT. Here is part of the crew from l to r...my Uncle, me, my dad and Mayhew. Rock and roll!!!! 

A friend sent this to me today...the family that found the fawn introduced her to their family pet, and he adopted her...it reminded me of a baby deer we raised when I was a child. She was abandoned by her mother, so we adopted her and named her Faline after the female deer in Bambi. She was so sweet...she stayed inside for the first few months and we bottle fed her. She slept under my mom's and sister's sewing machines because it had four "legs" and she thought it was her mother! She also pee'd under the sewing machines. I will never forget the way she smelled...sweet, like the milk she drank. When she was old enough, she lived in my mom's chicken yard. She was my best friend and we played everyday...I was about 7 years old when she lived with us. I remember we would play hide-and-seek. There was tall cypress grass in the chicken yard, and I would run away from her and hide. But her excellent sense of smell would always lead her right to me. She would prance around and act so proud when she found me...I miss her. 

Blah-blah-blah...

I have been busier this week at work than I have been since the holidays...whatupwidat? No complaints here, I need the $$$! So if I have neglected you as a friend or family member, I apologize. ****sheepish grin*****
Here are a few things I would rather do than work...i.e. things I would do should I ever get to "retire". LMAO...retire, that's a hoot.
1. Go fishing. I love to fish almost as much as I love to eat, or talk, or breathe.
2. Paint a landscape. I used my creativity more when I wasn't so busy, and I miss it. Something about getting something out of your head and onto canvas.
3. Travel. I miss, miss, miss travelling to new places. Early in my life, I saw a lot of things...England, France (Paris does suck!), Germany, Luxembourg, Belgium....ahhhhh the chocolate in Brugge, Belgium is better than sex, I SWEAR IT.
4. Visit my friends and family. Gone are the days when folks would just stop by to catch up and have a cup of coffee, while listening to the slamming of the screen door as kids go in and out, playing in the yard.
5. Sing. I grew up singing around my mom's piano, at church...then at weddings, funerals, etc. Then I had the priviledge to sing with my brother's blues band. IT WAS THE MOST AWESOME THING I'VE EVER BEEN A PART OF . Now I'm ruined...I want to be a rock star. I'm not joking.
Just some tedious, and useless facts about me. Now you know what I mean when I say, "I'd rather be....."

19 days.....19 days.....19 days..... 

Check us out on the web today...you can see what I really do for a living! LOL (talk non-stop) 

4:30 a.m. Wakeup!

Good morning, I think. I'm going to shamelessly plug our radio station, because we are gonna be on-air for 12...yes 12 hours today. Check out our website at www.qliteradio.com then click on the block party link and listen live via the internet all day today...Chris, you can listen to Aunt P on the internet! We will have in-studio guests all day long, and yes, I will be sneaking in a little heavy metal along the way. I have a feeling my feet are gonna be screaming by the end of the day...turrah, everyone!