Lemons

They say when life gives you lemons make lemonade.
I say when life gives you lemons, take out the seeds and plant them.
Then juice them and make your lemonade.
But you can't just juice lemons and make lemonade. No because if you do then you will just have lemon juice which is still tart and bitter. You need water and sugar, to make a lemonade.
So when life gives you lemons, in order to make lemonade you have to come up with some water and sugar? Where do you get that??

I think your sugar is your attitude. How sweet your lemonade is depends on your amount of sugar. Our attitude makes our lives better. Many times we can't choose how many lemons or what kind of lemons we get, but how we deal with them the better our lemonade turns out.

And as for the water, I think that is the time in which we have to make the lemonade. You know life gives us our lemons and we wonder for how long will we have to hold on to them. They are not fun at first, and as we make the lemonade the lesser amount of water, the stronger the lemon taste is. The more water we add the less strong the lemon taste is.

So is it in life, the first time trials hit us, they are strong and bitter. But with time and the right attitude the sweeter the trials become.

Discovered

The setting sun drew the day to an end. Farmer Ted had only a few more precious moments to dig holes to plant the seeds, to be in the ground in time for the proper growing season. Only one more hole to go. As he knelt on the ground, he wiped the sweat from his brow. The temperatures were cold but the work was hard. The tiny shovel dug into the brown soil, suddenly coming to an abrupt stop. Ted heard the clanking of metal. What could it be?

He dug around and pulled out a dirt covered little something. Grabbing the corner of his plaid shirt he brushed the soil to discover a cast iron toy tractor. Where did this come from?

Twelve years back Ted had purchased this land from a very old lady who had been born on this land. She had no children. How old could this tractor be?


Sorry, I hit a writers wall...

The Malt Shop

Sun shining, kids smiling this was going to be a summer to remember. Ramona just finished her 8th grade year and about to turn 14. This summer she had no cares, other than the swim team that met each morning at 8 am to practice for an hour. Being of such a young age she didn't have to work, occasionally she'd babysit for the neighbors. She felt care free and ready to face the joys of summer vacation.

Her best friend Linda lived several doors down the street. Basset Street, lined with old shade trees and white picket fences, was a quiet one other than the occasional neighborhood kids riding their bikes or playing ball in the street.

Ramona left her house one morning a little tired and hot after a hard work out. She called to her mother as she shut the door "Bye Mom, I'm off to Linda's we will be back after awhile."
Her mom began to reply but Ramona couldn't hear her through the thick wooden door. She ran down the few porch steps, not noticing the beautifully blooming flowers that lined the walk way. However her eye caught a stick on the side walk which she quickly picked up. With stick in hand she skipped, well that is too juvenile for a 14 year old, so she strolled down the street, pegging the fence post with the stick.

As quickly as her feet stopped, her heart skipped a beat, for she saw Steven Johnson all decked out in his white uniform stepping into his convertible Ford Mustang. Oh he is so hot she thought to herself. She had a hard time not staring at the sixteen year old with gorgeous soft hazel eyes, and perfectly trimmed brown hair. Out of the corner of Steven's eye he saw little Ramona and gave her a great smile and a wave. Her cheeks quickly flushed as she waved hi and added a little speed to her stroll.

Tail lights were far down the street as she knocked on Linda's door. Though she was standing on the porch her mind was far off in Puppy Love Land. The door opened and Linda asked "Are you ok, your cheeks are all red?" Ramona still day dreaming of her encounter... .

'would you like a ride? I'm headed over to the Malt Shop for work.' Steven offered.
"Oh I'd love to. Thank you so much."she replied, not realizing the words actually came out of her mouth.

"What did you say? You'd love to what?" asked Linda bewildered at her friends response.

"Oh...oh sorry. I was just thinking, we should go down town to the Malt Shop and get a shake or something."

"Great, I'll just tell my mom."

Snickers, Hot Dog Buns and Ramen

The sounds of the toilet flushing and the water running in the shower told me it was morning, time to get out of bed. The sun hadn't been a part of this "time to get up" because it still was hiding itself for another 30 minutes. The crisp cold air warned of a cool spring day and begged me to stay under covers. "I can do this", I told myself, referring to getting out of bed. Staring up at me from the floor, my jogging shoes whispered "let's go for a run, come on, come on." I quieted the beckoning by throwing my pillow on top of them. It just wasn't going to happen today. I mean I could barely drag my butt out of bed.

Late last night I received a call that I knew was going to come. A call that didn't bring a smile to my face, a message of despair rather than hope. My grandmother of 92 years had a massive heart attack and stroke. After a minor surgery to try to repair things, they found a leak in her arteries and there is not much more time on earth for her. She is 92. She has lived a good life. A widow of 7 years, it is time for her to return to her Heavenly home, but I am not ready to send her. But sometime this week I am sure I will be saying my final goodbyes. Something that is comforting and heartbreaking at the same time, is that possible? But with this weighing heavy on my heart as well as thinking about the house selling and Eric's job, lets just say, I had a hard time falling asleep. Once I did it was interrupted several times by a wayward child, a crying baby and a snoring husband.

So while laying in bed this morning, knowing that I must get started on the day, I only begged for a few more minutes. But Timmy, who had been crying since the sounds of flooding water flowed through the wall, chose a different path for me. With my eyes half open I felt my way to his crib, and climbed back into the covers. I tempted to nurse him in bed with me under the nice warm bedding. That worked for a bit. Seeing that I couldn't nurse him all day in bed, and that he wanted to crawl all over his finally sleeping sisters, I grabbed him and hopped out of my warm blankets.

Oh time to start the day. Eric woke up Gregory and had him out the door for school before I could wipe all the sleep from my eyes. The fortunate thing was it was just me and Timmy for the time being.

I searched high and low in the kitchen for food, as if I were a teenager unsure of what groceries her mom had bought over the weekend. Which in our case, there was no grocery shopping over the weekend other than a few items for Gregory's birthday party on Saturday. Did I mention yet it was Monday? Yeah so its Monday morning. Typically we do a good grocery shop on Saturday but we hadn't. But deep in the freezer I found a Snickers bar. Nuts, milk chocolate, that creamy layer has to be somewhat good for you. As I go to take my first bite, Timmy reached out for some. What kind of mom would I be if I fed him a Snickers bar for breakfast, and give him nuts before he is a year? That would not be good. So I grabbed the next closest thing, a hot dog bun. It was there, quick and best of all he could hold it and feed himself.

With the girls still sleeping, mind you it is rare that they sleep this long I mean I think it was 7:15 am. I decided to enjoy my chocolate fat filling breakfast while watching the Morning Show. Timmy crawled around the nicely folded by his dad at 5 am clothes, and left a trail of bun crumbs, which I will need to vacuum at some point during the day because heaven forbid someone might call to look at the house. While close to my last bite I heard little foot steps coming down the stairs, and afraid of getting caught eating my nutritious breakfast, I shoved the last bit into my mouth.

I attempted to say good morning to Emily without chocolate and nuts flying out of my mouth, not very easily done. She missed the spray of Snickers and asked for some cereal. I can do that, I thought. Cereal for breakfast that is easy enough, that's up to my speed.

But no sooner did I fix her cereal did Bethany come down stairs. After a morning hug and some loves, which she so desperately needed this morning. She whispered, "I want eggs." I quickly replied, "not this morning." I just wasn't in the mood for eggs. She didn't do her typically arching of her back whining and pleading for eggs dance, instead she said "ok how about some Ramen?" After I said "no." I said "Ok, that's fine." Well actually after she asked for the ramen and I said no, she looked in the freezer and asked "where is the candy that you gave to Emily that she gave to me, that Dad put in the freezer?" I replied "I have no idea, how about some Ramen?" Since she had already asked for it, it was an accepted offer. She peacefully took it and ate it.

I am alone.
I feel so afraid.
I am scared.
I am cold.
I feel frightened.
I am not ready.
I am willing.
I'm not courageous.
It's disheartening
It is gloomy.
It is clean.
The thought is dreadful
The light is bright
My feelings are unsure.
The future is daunting.
Hope is near.
Faith is to be found.
I am heard.
Prayer is near.

This is my life.

High Dive

"Come on Johnny you can do it." cheered the crowd below. But poor Johnny Jones hunched on his knees, holding on to the end of the board for dear life, peering over at the 14 foot drop was terrified of the drop he thought he could make.

"You can do it!"

"Stand up and just jump!"

"Chicken."

"Don't be afraid!"

His friends calling and cheering him on the best they could. Panic stricken legs no longer able to bring his weight to a standing ready to jump position.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sammy with her long blond hair pulled tight in the most perfect ponytail, sun glistening off the top of it.

"Scaredy Cat!"

"Come on we don't have all day!"

With out much thought, his legs straightened, his hands let go, his feet pushed and off he went.
"Splash" straight in the water.

Everyone cheered as his head popped out of the water. Swimming to the side, he peered around to see that Sammy had not even been watching. Bummer he thought, oh well it was fun at least.

Painting

One more stroke,
and I shall be done.
The finished project,
oh such a one.
I never knew that the
beauty he created for me,
would be one I could paint
for all to see.

Such bright shining light,
from our beckoning sun,
to clear the dark cold night,
another wonderful day begun.

Purples, reds, greens and blues
and many other wonderful hues.
Beauty is not just in the eye of the beholder,
surrounding our very nature could not be bolder.
(I tried to hard to get a rhyme )

I stink at poetry, and started to write about the artist finishing this painting and for some reason a poem popped out. I should leave poetry to Brenda and Michele.

$5 bill

I never have cash with me, I usually use my debit card, but today of all days I had cash. The cashier rung up my groceries and told me the total, "25.01". As I handed him my $10 adn $20 bills, I searched through my coin purse for a penny, 'there has to be a penny amongst all these coins.' The cashier must have notice me frantically diving through my wallet, that he just handed me the $5 bill and receipt and said "Don't worry about the cent" as he pulled a penny from his pocket and put it in the register. I smiled to him as I grabbed my grocery cart, kids sitting quietly, not asking for a thing, and said "thank you" as I walked out the door. I thought to myself, 'wow this is going to be my lucky day. It feels more like St. Patrick's Day than April Fool's Day.'

The kids buckled up and I put the groceries in the car, and we headed on our way home, to meet our friends for a play date.

It was such a gorgeous sunny spring day that we packed a picnic lunch and walked over to the park. Not soon after being at the park the kids all decided they were done and wanted to go back home. We encouraged them to play different things, like who could run the fastest up the stairs and down the slide, or who could balance the longest across the little fence. Being only 5 they grew tired of our challenges and we gave in to take them home. Actually it was a good thing. See in Texas the weather likes to change in an instant. It went from 89 down to 69 in about two minutes flat, and the wind picked up and we were getting chilled.

After we got home warmed up, it was time to pick up the brother from school. This is always a fun thing, you know kids crying because they want to walk, or because they want to be pushed in a stroller. Or sometimes we have to wake one up from their much needed nap, to only arrive at school to a crying first grader because his mom told him no friends after school. I was just tired, and didn't feel like watching the neighbor kids today. I mean can't a mom just enjoy her own kids after school? Something a six year old just can't wrap his brain around.

Well we make it home, and almost everyone is done crying. The kids decided it is a good time to eat Popsicles out on the tramp and I decided its a great time to veg in front of the computer. Then I remember what I had gone shopping for earlier, my special surprise Fauxberry Pie for dinner. So I run down stairs, to make it. Boy did it flop. I think I beat the potatoes too long.

The dinner was not a hit, I guess they didn't fall for the "we're having raspberry chocolate pie for dinner" because the firsts bites were followed by "this is gross!" and "I don't like this, I want Ramen." Now it would not have been such a big deal had that not done the same thing about dinner the night before.

Being one that doesn't do well with finickiness, I tell them. "Fine don't eat it. Fix your own dinner. And don't expect me to fix you dinner again!" I got up, put my dish in the sink and went up stairs to ignore they pleads and whines for something different. They survived and fixed themselves some Ramen Noodles. See it was ok. Well the kitchen was a mess, thank heavens no one called to see the house.

Because, while I was in hiding, the kids found me. They joined me and thought it would be a great time to throw things down the stairs. In one of those throws my poor son's head met a flying metal pipe, that "accidentally" slipped out of Bethany's hands down the stairs, where it bounced off a step and popped up pegging Gregory in the back of the head.

Well so much for good luck, because that little accident cost us $100 in the ER for two little staples in the back of his head. I guess though I am lucky that it wasn't worse.

MoPed MoPed

MoPed MoPed what do you see?
I see I little lady coming to me.

Little Lady, Little Lady what do you see?
I see some spring flowers looking at me.

Spring Flowers, Spring Flowers what do you see?
I see a black road staring back up at me.

Black road, black road what do you see?
I see a pink MoPed riding on me.

Pink MoPed, Pink MoPed, what do you see?
I see the whole world right in front of me.

(Remember that your freewrite may tak

Woodsworth qoutes

"To begin, begin." the professor stated as he spoke openly about the best way one can write. "You will never know if you are a writer or not if you don't just begin to write. Let the thoughts flow from your mind to your pen, or your keyboard as y'all write today."

I sat in my desk, looking around at the other students, seemingly much younger than I. What was I thinking, taking a creative writing class after all these years. My youngest just started kindergarten and I have a little more free time to do those things I always dreamed of doing. But really, I thought, noticing the girl in front of me with her low rise jeans and her tramp stamp showing. What do I have to offer to this class? Me a mother of five, just barely realizing that I don't have to wipe a nose for several hours.

"Ok stop thinking about this, enjoy this time." I told myself as I noticed my mind wandering on why I was here, who was around me, more than what the professor was saying. I looked at him with is full gray beard, trimmed ever so distinquished, standing before these fifty or so students, wondering what style of writer he was, probably not very neat I thought as I noticed his shirt wasn't very well ironed. Maybe he just has a lazy wife like me. Alright I will listen. He continued.

"Every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he is to be relished." Now if that was ever a mouth full, speaking of mouth full, a foot long hot dog with lots of mustard, ketchup and relish sounds good about now. I guess I shouldn't have taken a noon hour class. OK, HELLOO, listen to the lecture! Now I know why my children have a hard time with school. I mean here I am an adult, taking a class for pleasure and I am day dreaming about getting a hot dog at the local gas station??

"Your first assignment is to free write whatever you want about..."

The Tub

Splish Splash I was taking a bath, all around a Saturday Night, oh wait that has already been written but I think I have the words wrong.

All I can say today is that looks like a fun bathroom.
And I really want to take a tub.
I am tired.
Its 3 am.
I feel hot and sweaty.
Timmy is up for the third time.
Oh I'd love to grab a book.
Fill that tub with hot water.
Maybe add a bottle of salts.
While I am at it, another bottle of bubbles.
Fill a glass with ice water.
Grab my favorite book.
I don't have a favorite book.
Ok grab a novel.
Turn off the phone.
Well hopefully no one calls at 3 AM.
Get in the tub.
And sleep. Did I say sleep.
I meant read.
I think I need to go to sleep.
And dream about this tub.

Excuses- Please don't give them to me

Oh the big E word! I really could go on for days about excuses! Really! I just was talking to a friend about them. I can't stand excuses. There are really no reason for them. Before you jump down my throat about this but really, there is no need. I think if you can't do something, just say "I can't" And that really should be good enough. There really shouldn't be a "I'd love to help you out but my dog just ate a box of rat poison and I have to run to the hospital!" Well ok maybe people need to hear some of those excuses.

I guess the thing that bugs me about excuses is when people excuse themselves from doing almost everything because they feel their life is harder than anyone elses? Maybe that is n't it either. Maybe I need to find some example to express what it is about excuses that really bug me.

For example, I had been up all night with my new born, had another sick child, husband was out of town. I was tired to say the least. I was suppose to meet with a friend. She had been up until heave forbid midnight most likely drinking with her husband, and only got to sleep until 8 am because her two kids woke up too early, so she couldn't go and do the thing we had planned because she was just too tired! Hello please don't talk to me about tired! I mean I understand. I am sorry you are tired...but don't you think I am too?? But does that stop me from following through on a commitment??

Ok and another thing, I don't know about you, but maybe I have the martyr syndrome and just go about and do things, but really I think we could come up with excuses to get out of everything in life you know?

I am not guiltless of using excuses either, I know I pull the "I'm just not feeling well" card a lot. When I get stressed I physically get ill. Especially when I know I have to be in front of people or in a crowd, my anxiety takes over me. So I have to excuse myself from going to these places. But maybe I'd do better if I got over my excuses and just got up and went.

Saturdays my husband likes to go out and do stuff, and usually it means with all the kids and half the city. I literally come home so exhausted and sick from the caos. But I try and do my best to spend time with my family.

Anyway, at some point I think excuses should be left by the wayside and we should be just wiling to live our life's, and serve...

that was so random and now I will jump off my mixed up soap box!

Corrine Simonsen