Ramblings of an Old, Romantic Soul

Some friends and I were having a discussion today (on facebook) about books vs. kindles, etc.  The conversation reminded me of this poem I had written some time ago.  My love of books came from Dad...he had such a vast library and I loved browsing through his shelves.  Books are a part of me.  I love the feel, the smell; they bring a comfort to my spirit and soothe my soul.  Perhaps that may sound a bit odd, or a bit over the top, but it's true.  When I am troubled, I love sitting in my library.  I love to look at the books - the shapes and sizes, the titles.  Some are old, some are new; some are worn, some are not.  But each one is special and unique.  And now that Dad is gone, my books are a connection to him.  Old Books Safe haven, rich aroma of old books, greatly comforts, soothes my soul, hard to explain indescribable solace. ...

As many of you know, I started a new job about two months ago.  I'm a front desk clerk at a local hotel.  It's an interesting job and fits my personality - I get to meet new people, talk, flirt, help...Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think there was so much to learn about making reservations, etc.  Of course, as is my way, I think I should know everything already and get frustrated with myself when I mess up, or say something I shouldn't. My co-workers are patient and kind, teaching and guiding me.  I still have much to learn. However, I thought I would share a few things I have learned in the short time I've been in the hotel business:  Don't use the 'I'm new' card.  I have found out very quickly, and much to my surprise, how many people will use that card against you.  Instead of sympathy and understanding, they will try to nail you, or try to get something they didn't pay for.   I have learned to speak with authority, even though I ...

Today is Mother's Day; a day to celebrate the woman who gave us birth, the woman who loves us unconditionally and sacrifices for us on a daily basis.   This Mother's Day is especially poignant...I just talked to my Mom...she is remarkable, strong, full of strength and courage.  I hear her speak of how she is filling her days, how she feels Dad with her, how the Lord is using this time to teach/guide her...still learning lessons even now.  I simply love her.  She is a great woman, and though she may not be perfect, although she may have made mistakes over the years, she is  still a shining example of what motherhood and wifehood are all about.  Love, Sacrifice, Compassion, Care.   This poem, a nonet, is dedicated to you, Mom.  Thank you for all you've done, for all you still do.  May God continue to bless you and give you strength.  I love you with all my heart. Mom  I admire and respect you so much the lit...

Miss Marplestein, cute as a button So, I have two cats, or as I like to call them my 'baby girls'.  Actually, in June they will be six years old, so they aren't quite 'baby girls' anymore, rather 'young ladies'.  Factualities aside, they are and always will be my baby girls.  They are near and dear to our hearts, and have a place in our household.  They are like our children (although my husband would deny it).  And, they are strictly indoor cats.  They have only been 'allowed' outside with Mommy and Daddy, firmly in our arms. Miss Marplestein is a red tabby.  She is long and lean, and has an angular face - to me, simply adorable.  She has very meak voice, soft and sweet.  Miss M is a Daddy's girl.  She loves her Daddy - loves laying next to him, loves cuddling with him, loves sitting on his desk.  She follows him everywhere.  This morning, we're drinking coffee in bed with Miss M by our side.  We get up, have our...

Ever since the stone was placed on his grave, I've been having a rough time.  Perhaps the stone was a symbol of finality for me.  The grief is constant, always there, and I find myself crying over the smallest thing. Then last night I was watching The Biggest Loser.  It was the 'make over' week, where the contestants glam themselves up, showing off the weight they've lost.  One of the girls was reunited with her father.  I lost it.  Seeing the love on the father's face, seeing how proud he was of his daughter, seeing them hug - brought it all home to me that I will never see that look on Daddy's face again.  I will never feel his hug again.  Not in this lifetime.  The dam broke and the tears spilled forth. What's more to say?  I miss him so much.