I am just sick and tired, Father, of looking at this same blasted mountain.
Tell me, how to move it.
Teach me, how to move it.
Tell me, it is not going to move so I can get the hell on with the rest of this thing, called life.
Dammit.
I still love you, Lord. Just a bit peeved, I guess, with me.
Why in the fresh hell do You keep prodding me to keep moving forward knowing this blasted mountain is in the way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Move it or move it along.
Am weary. Moving a pebble at a time just is not cutting it.
I am 54. How many more lessons must one learn in order for You to make it do what it do?
How long will you hold it against her that she did not meet your expectations?
Heck, how can you expect her to have known better when YOU did not know?
Let her off the hook.
Okay?
Okay, so she didn’t do this, that and the other thing because she was afraid. Why can’t you cut her some slack?
She did the best she could do with what she had.
If God forgave her. And, that a long, long, long time ago…
Why are YOU still holding her lack of progress over her head?
God knows where she is.
God knows where you are.
Leave it!
Leave her be.
Move on, with your life.
You can NOT keep blaming her for where you are now.
Move!
It is enough.
Life is too short to keep getting on her case because she gave to everyone and everything but herself. How about extending her the same love and grace you give everyone and everything else?
Forgive, her.
She forgave you a long time ago.
I will.
I do.
I’ll try.
*Cassandra turned from the mirror, turned out the bathroom light and went in search of jello. It was going to be a long night…*
These, and many more random thoughts, appeared, disappeared, reappeared after receiving yet another phone call with yet more troubling/upsetting/heart-crushing news.
I mean, Father, a gal can only eat so much grilled cheese, dontchaknowthis?!
Whew!
This steady march of awful/horrid/whattheworldhashappened now March news has got me ready to run away from home. Which is NOT an option. Gas just too high! Also, no idea where I would go. Also, just too exhausted to leave the house let alone get in a car and point it in some direction.
I promised myself I would keep on doing the day no matter what the day would bring but….sheeeesh, okay!?
I made a lovely lunch I did not eat.
Forgot to make jello so had to settle for orange slices instead.
My last break is almost over and I am in need of the next break which won’t come til tomorrow.
If this sounds a bit woe is me….*shrug*. I got nuttin for you.
I reached for my coffee cup but remembered I forgot to make my coffee.
Between the burnt peanut butter cookies, midnight chores, my dreams refusing to show up, age and longing hollering all up in a girl face, I am ready to tell the whole blankety blank world to kick some rocks!!!!!!!!
Am over making lemonade, Father. Can a girl get some chocolate cream pie instead?
Asking for a friend,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
When life hands you lemons, don’t ask me what to do with them. I have a fresh pile, of my own, on the kitchen counter. Keep going…
Mom used to like to say ‘Tell the truth and shame the devil’. Basically meaning tell on yourself when you have acted a fool.
In slang terms, get some act right and do better!
If I had not listened to lazy, I would not have burnt my precious peanut butter cookies. If I had not paid heed to pity, I would have had my jello and meal prep done. If I had listened to act right, right off, I wouldn’t have been put on punishment, by me, at midnight.
Yep, not only did I make myself load the dishwasher. I punished lazy and me for using the tired excuse that it was,conveniently, ‘too late’, to keep the neighbors up by running the dishwasher. Of course, I was just being a good neighbor.
Ha!
Fingers told hand to help them point me to the kitchen. Feet, tapping irritably, joined fingers in steering me to the kitchen sink. Brow, scowled. Lips,frowned in displeasure. Even my eyes rolled on me just a bit.
Knowing to keep my mouth shut, I scrubbed my way to the bottom of the kitchen sink. As additional punishment I was required to handwash ALL the dishes that didn’t fit in the dishwasher.
All those dishes made my head tsk tsk at my foolishness. Which made them ALL angry. Feet got to tapping, double time. Fingers got to shaking and pointing at BOTH microwaves. I found myself, to my chagrin, scrubbing out the crime scenes called my microwaves.
Trying to appease the uproar, I went ahead and prepared the kuerig for the morning’s coffee. Shoot, I even refilled the water jugs, made sure the coffee and creamer containers were topped off and looked around to see what else I could do to quiet things down. I was smart enough not to look at or venture towards the bathroom.
Yikes!
Egads!
Yikes! and Egads! took one look at all the cleaning supplies and beat a hasty retreat. God and Life had stopped by for a visit and took off before They could be seen and or recruited to help.
*pout*
Don’t even waste time asking me for the moral to this story. I suggest you make sure your own act right is acting right before you get your own ideas and put yourself up to some midnight chores.
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
Note: Never allow life, hard times, good times, boring times, people, places or things to keep your act right from acting right. It’s sadly much too easy to use those things as excuses not to do, not to try, not to love, not to have joy and on and on.
I have learned and am learning, yet, and still, to use the things I used to use as excuses not to to do the opposite of what I used to not do.
Confused? That means don’t let your act right get you into midnight chores by not acting right and DOING what’s right.🤷♀️
Tomorrow’s are piling up and turning into too many yesterdays that did not come bearing my dreams.
I find these days, THESE days, harder and harder to bear minus said dreams coming ’round.
I can hear doubts laughing outside my front door. So what. they be OUTSIDE no longer allowed in my home, in my heart, in my mind, in my dreams.
Thank goodness for hope. Hope pays me no mind and barges in whether I want to welcome her or not. She brings joy with her and they cause such a racket I can’t help to awaken from my slumber.
*sigh*
Longing is sooooooooo loud and has been sooooooooo insistent I can barely restrain her. She is no longer satisfied with yet. ONLY yes will do now. I don’t know what to do with longing, with THIS longing.
Perhaps, if age had not reminded me that life was short I may have been able to ignore longing.
I find age and longing peering at me, askance. They both want to know what I am going to DO? They both want to know WHEN dreams are going to show up. See, age and longing have things to do, places to go and people to see.
They won’t share with me who, what, when, where or why. Age and longing just keeps telling me to hurry up and be about being about it.
*sigh*
All I can promise them is I will ask God and Life, tomorrow. Day already took everything with her.
Today, was hard. I cried on The Father’s Shoulder. He understood. He understands. He did not promise that dreams would come a calling tomorrow.
He DID promise to be there, in tomorrow, waiting for me. He gave my shoulder a final squeeze, slid me gently off His Lap and encouraged me to keep going. He said He was proud of my try. He told me not to worry about the outcome, or lack thereof.
It’s bad enough that dreams did NOT show up, yet, yet again, today.
Told myself that I was aite.
Talked to my sis.
Talked to my wombie.
Realized after hanging up the phone that I was STILL alone.
That made me want to cry.
I did NOT want to cry by myself.
Yet again.
Called my twin and had a quick power cry.
Told her I enjoyed talking to her but soon as we hung up the phone I was alone.
Yet.
Again.
With no yes in sight.
Not yet.
Wanting to cry, I decided to make some cookies and love on some me til someone who loved me would call me and love on some me.
I find my love tank is a bit empty. I fill it best I can but some love you just can’t give yourself.
In the meantime, I figured I would be about that positivity life I am forever carrying on about and made cookies.
The problem is that I KNOW exactly how long and on what temperature to make tasty cookies in my old air fryer.
See, I had purchased a super fancy new air fryer. It was digital. Had all types of bells and whistles and turned itself off if you open and ding really cute and have cute food icons all over it’s sleek black body.
It beckoned me, this NEW thing. It scoffed at my dusty, trusty, now rusty old air fryer. No bells and whistles. No digital lights winking and daring me to use. Nope, just my trusty unit where I knew exactly how long and at what temperature each dish called for.
I knew this because I had thoroughly read the manual. I also followed the instructions to the letter. I also made many attempts and tried and failed until I could make THE perfect cookie.
Hot.
Fresh.
Yes!
#sigh*
There is THAT word again. The word that had driven me to make cookies in the first place.
Here, by now, if you know me, I would be imparting wisdom like how new things takes time to learn, to get right. Because, well, because they ARE new.
I would have gladly done that if only I had not decided to try again and bake the last of the peanut butter cookies.
You guessed it.
I BURNT THE LAST OF THE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIE DOUGH!!!!
So, forgive me if I am just too distraught to wax philanthropic about if at first you don’t succeed go right on ahead and BURN THE LAST OF THE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIE DOUGH!!
Thankfully, I have paid the cable bill, I STILL know how to make the perfect cup of coffee and can pop the bestest popcorn in the wide world.
Popcorn, anyone?
*Cassandra considers the cookie fiasco and wonders if she dare try popcorn tonight*
While waiting for comfort, I decided to make peanut butter cookies to have with my coffee.
Turns out, I had the temperature way too low.
Feeling like Goldie Locks, I turned the temperature high and restarted the time.
Turns out, the temperature was right but the timing was off!!!!
Burnt peanut butter cookies!
Yet, again that blasted word yet I don’t get no yes on hot fresh and perfectly baked peanut butter cookies!!!
Story of my life right now!!!!!
*Cassandra storms out of the room headed yall already know where she is headed and Whose Lap she is fixing to have a good no peanut butter cookie having cry!*
Moral of the story?
Who cares. My cookies are burnt and the answer is STILL yet!!
Why Can't I Be Loud?! 