Can a Pair of Purple Vevlet Boots iwth Upturned Toes turn Pain into Humor? I say YES! (It’s Worth a Try, Right?)
Increase what you love: Release what you don’t… and Stay in your lane!
Marci’s Declarations for the Perfect Revenge Body: Toned arms are out! Bat wings are in! Cellulite is gorgeous! Jiggly and Wiggly! I love it!
Thad died knowing that The Pink Panther Strikes Again was the funniest movie ever, Calvin and Hobbes were the greatest life teachers, Elvis was the best singer on the planet, John Wayne was the MAN, bacon was healthy, and saltines could solve any ailment, from headaches to the flu. And if you threw in some vanilla ice cream and marshmallows, well, you could pretty much cure anything. Add a little whipped cream and you’re talking about world peace.
Rainbows and waterfalls nd poetry heal me, but the best part was spending time with the ones I love, creating memories that can never be taken away.
I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no more hurt, only more love. (Mother Theresa)
This blog post is a combination of one I wrote in 2007, continued in 2013 and finished in 2019, although maybe I’ll add to it in another 6 years. My three-year-old daughter just took a parasol out of her baby brother’s hand. I say, “Miss Annabelle, you can not take toys from Henry.” She glares at me, stomping one bare foot and growling. She’s standing in her Curious George underwear, so small and delicate, her hair in wild toddler curls…
I haven’t wanted to post because there’s just so much, so much deep tragedy and trauma in my life. I don’t want to write any of it down because I want to pretend none of it is true. But as a person who has chosen to always live in truth and joy and integrity, no matter what happens, I guess I should say it. Except I can’t. So for now, I’m not going to even write about my deep deep…
The other day my Dad woke up and said with a smile, “Marci, why did you spin our bed around and rearrange our room last night?” “I didn’t spin your bed or move your furniture last night,” I answered softly, making his oatmeal the way he likes it with lot’s of brown sugar and raisins. “The hell you didn’t!” he said with a laugh. My Mom looked at me with her big brown eyes and nodded. “Marci, our room looked…