Being vulnerable enough to look [honestly] at yourself – at your past is the hardest thing some will ever have to do.
I wish you strength. I wish you healing. I wish you peace.
Being vulnerable enough to look [honestly] at yourself – at your past is the hardest thing some will ever have to do.
I wish you strength. I wish you healing. I wish you peace.
Being vulnerable enough to look [honestly] at yourself – at your past is the hardest thing some of you will ever have to do.
I wish you strength. I wish you healing. I wish you peace.
Lay your grammar obsessions aside, let your jaw relax, loosen your ears, take a long deep breath and you let your mind drift to the deep south as you listen in on the privy conversation between Maggie and her dear, sweet Tallulah.
From Book 1 of the Clan Destiny Series
Maggie pulled the Egyptian cotton over her face and murmured,
“Thank you Tallulah but for the umpteenth time would you please call me Maggie, okay?”
“Okay Miss Maggie.” The drapes flew back and light filled the room. Maggie lifted the cover from her face and squinted at the morning sun.
“Are you gonna sleep all day Mizrez Lafont? Best try to git up a bit.”
It was the voice of Tallulah attempting to rouse the exhausted Maggie. She tapped the rail of a lump beneath the bedding and continued,
“Ima open these shades now missy, better make yo eyes ready cuz it’s a mighty fine mornin’.” Tallulah warned. Her bedraggled vernacular seemed to come from every direction at once.
Tallulah studied the woman’s face which was no more than a shade darker than the snowy sheets. She planted her hands on her hips and stared into the hollow eyes of her mistress.
“Mr. Ray is comin’ home today. He’s gonna be here in time for supper, you gonna tell him?”
“Yes Tallulah, I am going to tell him.”
“Is you feelin’ sick this mornin’? I can fetch you some dry toast and warm tea. That was always a help to me and to Mr. Ray’s mama too.”
“Yes please.” Maggie strained to sit up and suppressed a gag as she spoke. “That would be nice.”
…
Happy Friday y’all!! #SouthernProud
A pinch of poetry to season your tacos.
HaPpY Tuesday Y’all.
Well I have to admit [again] I haven’t been very productive as a writer lately; well not in a creative capacity.
I could blame it on the move after selling our fishing shack in Port Lavaca.
I can blame it on the new pups our daughter gave us.
I do blame it on a lot of things, heck the heat here in Texas by itself is an acceptable excuse [and I have lots of excuses] but the truth is…
in my spare time …
I’ve been TikTok’ing.
I stay up late nearly every blasted night gobbling up this stuff like a big man eating biscuits and gravy.
Some of you know my TikTok account has been deleted more than once but I keep going back.
Hardheaded?? Opinionated? Determined?
All of the above.
But this time I am curbing my enthusiasm.
This time The Real Janna Hill has learned a lesson or two.
So hopefully TikTok won’t put me in time out or evict me again; after all my demeanor is milder now – not so anti ______ – not so confrontational – not so spicy.
Yeah I’m more like a lovely bowl of covert cold oatmeal – with an agenda nothing but optimism.
HaPpY Tuesday y’all.
😉
TikTok.
What’s new?
Is nothing and a lot an appropriate answer?
Well it will have to suffice.
Let me first assure you I am not in a funk nor am I suffering from writer’s block.
On the contrary, potential stories abound!! I say potential because none have made it past my imagination.
In the garden, the grocery store, in front of the television or at a restaurant….
The list goes on forever.
So this morning as I was rocking and sipping my coffee (without spilling a drop), I asked myself,
Self, why haven’t you written a damn thing ??? Not so much as a blog post since April. And you failed miserably at supporting NPM
I pondered the question while I kept rocking and sipping, listening to the birds, watching the butterflies in the mimosa tree and waiting for a response.
Finally self answered. Well, (in no chronological order) let’s see...
You got older and slower so multi-tasking got a little harder.
You had Covid twice…
You focused more on family…
A large portion of last year was consumed when the home had to be gutted and restored due to the flood after the freeze. And the fishing shack had to have all of the pipes replaced due to the same freeze.
You spend a lot of time “working” in the yard and gardens. But honestly you “meander” as much as you work.
Your dog died and you got a new kitten.
Sending love and gratitude on this Memorial Day. I pray you feel it in the wind.
It’s time to go to bed little man
Cover up your head little man
I’ll see you when the sun breaks in the morn.
Say your prayers and close your eyes,
I’ve locked the monsters all outside,
She’d sang those words to him since he was born.
He grew to be a brave young lad
And followed after his ole dad
Beneath a flag of pride his oath was sworn.
They brought him home in silk lined wood,
And all around him soldiers stood,
While Butterfield’s Lullaby played on the horn.
It’s time to go ahead little man,
I know that you weren’t scared little man,
My heart breaks I can’t see you and I mourn.
I’ve said my prayers for your closed eyes,
I’ve tucked my feelings deep inside… She sang into a folded flag of thorns.
Little Man was taken from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)
The tears of mother’s could create a flood if they all cried at once.
What’s new?
Is nothing and a lot an appropriate answer?
Well it will have to suffice.
Let me first assure you I am not in a funk nor am I suffering from writer’s block.
On the contrary, potential stories abound!! I say potential because none have made it past my imagination.
In the garden, the grocery store, in front of the television or at a restaurant….
The list goes on forever.
So this morning as I was rocking and sipping my coffee (without spilling a drop), I asked myself,
Self, why haven’t you written a damn thing ??? No new books, not even a short story… Not so much as a blog post since April, and by the way you failed miserably at supporting NPM.
I pondered the question while I kept rocking and sipping, listening to the birds, watching the butterflies in the Mimosa tree and waiting for a response.
Finally self answered. Well, (in no chronological order) let’s see...
You got older and slower so multi-tasking got a little harder.
You had a birthday and Mother’s Day that went on for weeks-because you have some awesome ass kids.
You had Covid twice…
Your oldest brother died and it is still a painful and fresh wound…
You focused on family…
Remember a large portion of last year was consumed when the home had to be gutted and restored due to the flood after the freeze. And the fishing shack had to have all of the pipes replaced due to the same freeze.
The economy has put a strain on your finances so you’ve had to seriously reconstruct your retirement- and even put the fishing shack up for sale.
You chose to spend a significant amount of time mentoring and advocating for others because you know how it can be…
You spend a lot of time “working” at the pond and in the yard and gardens. But honestly you “meander” as much as you work.
Your dog died and you got a new kitten….
After listening to self for a minute, I said Oookay, and I didn’t feel too bad.
But then the selfish self had to wonder… am I still relevant? Not that I base my self worth on my writing but… you know.
So I typed my name and search-engined myself.
Great. At least I still appear in the www sphere.
But I found a piece of me in a place I had not heard of.
Fnac. F what?
Est-ce que tu parles français
Lord no. But I have been known to fake it.
So, in a nutshell that is what’s up. Or down.
If you don’t hear much from me it is safe to assume I am probably wandering in the woods or on the beach or working on a story even if it is in my head.
Stay well. Be happy.
XoXo
(#NPM )
I reach for you…
With every crack of thunder
I hear you laugh…
Your smile is every bolt of lightning.
The drops of rain, you touching me,
with unsalted tears…
No more pain; no more regret.
I raise my arms,
as a child beckoning to be held
and it pours.
My grief is washed away by
stinging pellets of a spring rain
Leaving behind a clean slate
with only memories of the most mundane,
most cherished moments of my life.
Credits:
I created the cover from a photograph I had taken.
The heading image (The Storm) was created from a compilation of images I found at Pixabay. (Thank you Pixabay contributors).
The poem, In the Storm was taken from this twisted book of poems. And… guess what?
For a limited time my partnering experiment with Smashwords lets the reader decide what they will pay. Yep! You decide. Check it out.
And don’t forget to follow my podcast
Just keeping it real. 😘