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Team Irene- the College Daughter

My Irene has lost so much weight. She’s healthy but I wonder if she’s eating? I have always said to others she eats about 5 different things and 3 of them are a variety of potatoes- chips, fries and baked; oh and mashed too. That is Autism. That is her Autism because Autism is different for everyone and it changes daily. She is doing amazing at UC Sant Cruz and I keep having to tell myself that and others when they ask because I don’t know anything different and I won’t know until it hits the fan- if it hits the fan. Shit that is. Until then I just practice acceptance and faith and know that I’m utterly powerless.

I know Irene is walking everywhere on campus because Irene can’t drive or even ride a bike, mostly out of fear and I’m ok with that. This is probably why she has slimmed down so much I tell myself. She has learned the bus system with the help of her IHS worker who is bringing on another worker so Irene gets more hours a week. She must need them if they are doing this – I have to trust them.

Her hygiene I will not talk about, but she has hair growing everywhere including under her arms and I know that is a thing now with girls so I encouraged her not to worry and to do what ever she wants- I will not define her. Many of her clothes just went straight to the trash and shopping had to be done. She was home for Thanksgiving and we are on the drive back now with her dad at the wheel so I have some time to reflect and jot down a few lines.

Irene is Autistic plus as many of you know, depressive, anxiety and ADHD as well. She is my gift. The gift born in the front seat of my car in my addiction. The gift I tried so hard to keep. The gift I walked away from and thank my God for bringing me back to when I got clean. It’s never too late.

Irene won’t say if she’s hungry, she’ll wait until she can find some chips or bread; she doesn’t want to bother anyone. I saw she ordered some gourmet cookies delivered to her room- I know that was probably very exciting for her. Her bank account is attached to mine so I always know what she’s buying. She has only made it into the Mc Donald’s in Santa Cruz once her whole time at school; this was her staple at home and still her treat.

I’m taking her back with snacks and enough hygiene to last her until summer. If I make sure she has everything she needs then she hopefully won’t run out. What Irene see’s as necessary to buy and what is not are different than the usual- she needs every airport neck pillow she sees- tampons not so important. I’m hoping these extra hours with her worker are utilized to the fullest and I have a list of items to discuss with them. I haven’t even seen her room yet but if it looks like it did a few weeks ago I’ll send her and her dad Mark out to Mc Donald’s so I can get it together while they’re gone. She panics when things are moved or when people are in her space. She stays secluded but gets out to do the things she wants when she wants- the things that interest her.

Irene makes it to her classes though. I hope she is turning in assignments and studying for finals- she is so smart. I had to map things out -everything in high school daily including homework and due dates- she’s on her own now. Things her IHS worker is supposed to be assisting her with- organization and dates. She lives in her own world doing what her mind wants to. I can’t explain Irene any better than that other than a beautiful brilliant gift and my daughter.

I have heard C’s get degrees and although she has always been an A+ honors student that came at a cost. Frustration, tears, meltdowns and stress along with her picking at her skin and pulling her hair out. Her bangs are growing back out and I don’t see any signs of hair pulling- although she is always wearing a hat. A mother knows her child. She is thriving and I have to keep supporting her. I’ve picked her classes – yes again, hopefully for the last time. She was upset with me. Irene didn’t understand classes have to be picked and no longer will she just get a schedule. I finally got the IHS worker to get her to a counselor and follow up with that to map out her years for success. Irene was 1 of 200 accepted into UC Santa Cruz’s Computer Science degree program in 2019! If you put it in front of her she will do it. She can do anything.

The Chicken Lady

Addict · Addiction · Bloggess · death · Family · hopeless · Life · Life story · love · Recovery · Uncategorized

Death….

I come from a place of darkness, trapped in my insanity for so long. I smiled at you with a look of death hidden beneath my eyes; a death that was felt deep into my soul. The fire was gone. Had it ever been lit? Those choices that I made at a very young age would lead me down a road I never knew existed- it was called my life; the life that I chose. Gratefully I came to the end of the road one day and someone showed me a new way to live.

It has been seven days and a wake up since I got the call. It was my late night to work, I run a youth group and it was barely 6:00 pm on a Thursday, I still had an hour to go until I could leave. An hour to smile, to keep the youth I work with engaged, on task creating yearly action plans and mapping out goals; I even intrigued them enough to take on writing a small grant themselves with my tutelage. All the while knowing there was a dead body in a room that had been sitting most of the day.

I have witnessed more than my fair share of death. Some would even say I may have been the cause or catalyst to a few, but I know that was addiction and their choices. Sure I gave them the first one, maybe even at times the last one- at least one that I know of. I didn’t know then what I know now. I played a part in so many lives that I ran through for so many years and yes, I still play a part. The reasons why we continue to do the work, so we can continue to identify the issues. I always say, as long as I am not doing an issue I will always be OK. That part is true; but sometimes I still do not want to feel. So much lately I have not wanted to feel- yet I am so happy I get to.

As soon as the last parent drove away with their child that Thursday night I was in my car. I knew the paramedics had come and gone, there was still emergency services there- the Firemen. Everyone was standing in the drive as I flew in and parked the car at the neighbors, there were so many cars everywhere. I knew the neighborhood would be glued to the windows watching in the darkness curious. My friend, my best friend; it was her house. She had called me. We had just spent the most beautiful weekend away at the ocean and had only been home a few days and this. Reality was back of what life is like.thumbnail

Julie was walking around arranging things, I joked on how clean the house was. I knew this mattered at this moment. The moment so many people were walking in and out, looking through the house, asking so many questions. I am sure all the questions had been asked a million times by the time I arrived. It was almost time for a million more. The coroner had not even arrived yet. The call had been made by 3:00 pm, it was now at least 8:00 pm and the coroner had not even arrived yet. He had probably been dead since at least 10:00 am. The facts are not out yet, the autopsy results are not in, and the time of death had not been called. I knew the how he died. So did Julie, she was just not willing to say and it was not my place to assist at that moment.

My assistance was just to be there. To hold the woman who at one time disliked me. To be there for her, it was her son who was in my friend’s house; he had only been there 10 days. I had only spoke to him a few times, through the walls of the rooms as I made my way through the house. Jacob had cleaned the house so immaculate. Jacob. His name was Jacob. I will not tell his story, although I know it. I will not tell Loretta’s story, although I know it. I will tell mine.

The coroner finally showed, it was our turn. Our house was the third on the list for pick-ups that night and by the time they left there were even more bodies to gather. This was our turn, it was Jacob’s turn. The questions started all over again. Now his family were giving the history, the present was obvious. More time was given with the body, the goodbyes before the morgue. That time seemed to drag on forever. Julie made jokes with me in the living room. I knew this was her way of dealing with the insanity of the moment in her home. All I could do was listen, a few times I said shhhh Julie, not so loud.

Finally the moment came, the moment I had missed with all the death that I left in my wake. The moment they struggled to bring his body out of the room to the stretcher. Jacob was already wrapped in the plastic zip-up bag, it was white. I imagine his toe tag was on under there as well for identification. There were a lot of bodies that night for a Thursday we were informed. He was wrapped in a white sheet around the plastic bag, for the purpose of lifting and grip. That was so apparent- Jacob was 31. Then came the fitted burgundy cloth that covered the body over so the neighbors glued to their windows with the lights off while they watched could not see. The coordinating commands. Turn, lower, on three, lift. One side first to set the wheels and ensure he was steady before she lifted the other side- go. Set the wheels. Roll out, step one, step two, set. I closed the screen door behind them. Loretta asked me to close up the bedroom, she couldn’t go back in- I did. I gathered her things and put them by the door. She was tired. Her tears I had wiped, I had held her, comforted her. What else could I have done?

Today I have to get to school. I teach. I teach a variety of things to help our youth make better choices and I have to get to class so I must go. This week has been rough, these past seven days have been rough. The flood of memories from death have not stopped. I am so grateful I have chosen to live.

The Chicken Lady thumbnail (1)

Addict · Addiction · adoption · Bloggess · Childhood · Family · Life · Life story · love · Mother · Recovery · Uncategorized

Nothing But LOVE….

When I was young, so long ago, I was hardened by love, the misconception of what it was, and what it looked like. I was hurt many times by those who claimed to love me and even those who I thought were supposed to love me the most at a very young age- family. I had lost the ability to trust anyone.

Of course the skills that I had learned, the coping skills, surviving skills, and so on would harden me. I numbed myself and shut down my heart and my spirit, putting in and losing the ability to stop for anything or anyone, not even my children. I didn’t know that is what was happening at the time; I still at that point thought I was having fun. I’m getting ahead of myself….

At the age of 20, I had stopped for a moment and come up for air, I would do that on occasion. It might look like I had my shit together, maybe a job, a smile. It was all an illusion, a mask I wore well, just one of them, for a very long time. I’d had my first child, almost making it to the altar, and even learned another lesson before I even made it there with his father. My ability to show love was gone and I know that now. I can’t even imagine what it looked like back then. I would be unable to show love for another 20 plus years, true love. That was my part.

The sweetest man entered my life back then, he loved me. He loved my son and me. He wanted nothing but to love us, together. I could not even fathom that, certainly didn’t trust that, and honestly didn’t even understand it. I was pregnant with his child and he knew. What would that look like? It was time to run and running is what I was good at.

I created another lie, I was good at lying, that’s what we do. This lie would last me 20 years. I gave birth to his son, having told him long before that I had lost his child. Using that loss as just one of the reasons to never see him again. The hole in my spirit was just a little larger and would continue to grow due to my own choices.

Today is that young mans birthday, October 30, his name is Alex, and he found me on Facebook several years ago. He had some questions, that is all he wanted from me, answers of which I gave him. It’s absolutely amazing how my HP works, I had found his father just a few months earlier. Being open to the process and willing, I was able to let that secret go that I had held onto for over 20yrs. I am a Bio-Mom, that is all.

Albert I love you! After many years your only question to me when I told you I had given birth to your son was, “are you ok” and “do you need a hug?” Boy did I. I will always love you for that! Today I know what love is honey and I have nothing but love for you!

That young man wanted nothing but answers, then he left our lives going back to his own, and I am ever so grateful to have been alive to give him those answers.

The Chicken Lady67187599_10156729123094926_8665854504098332672_n

Addict · Addiction · Bloggess · dating · dating life · Life · Life story · love · Recovery · single · Uncategorized

The Ridiculous Life of Dating: Swiping Left or Right….

I have the cutest little nook in the back with the chickens now. There is the small mosaic green coffee table and the two red farmhouse chairs that I love to relax on that have traveled with me to three different homes, however will stay at this one when I leave as a gift as I no longer require their use- yes I am already planning my next move. No one sits on the other red chair anymore, it’s just me with my feet perched up while the chickens mill around under me. Well sometimes the roommate sits there too, but our lives are so full it is rarely that we sit together anywhere. I have a spot I can write at that looks out the window to the chickens; it’s a bit un-comfy since the chair I sit at is really just a stool. I prefer just to write in bed with my laptop up on a rather large pillow with the window open just listening to the chickens while Hermes that fat cat stares their way, I don’t need much.

This brings me to companionship. Do I need it, do I really need it? Yes- I do. My companions for now are those chickens, my friends, the cat and the Fellowship that I love so much. I lost my dog Snoopy a while ago but don’t want to get into that right now, for now we are just going to talk about dating. The ominous life of dating at 50. It is very funny I find so hold on and grab some coffee.

I am not sure if I am ready for dating yet? It seems to be very complicated or very easy- whichever way you look at it. Do I swipe left or right? Actually, apparently, I don’t even need to swipe at all. It just comes my way- the offers. Abundant is the word I will use. The propositions have come from everywhere; Florida, Costa Rica- oh Florida will come here by the way and I should really give it a try, Costa Rica just wants to offer me time in paradise where he lives for a week or two. Kentucky wants to fly here to get to know me better; although we actually have met in person I am not ready to know him any better over dinner just yet-yet.

Dinner, I have gone to dinner with a friend. An old friend who was willing to just let it be a dinner with friends- even though years ago that was not his intention. He appreciated the shutdown I gave him when I said I was having coffee with someone back then, he didn’t understand it- he thought it was just coffee. It wasn’t just coffee, but it has become that. He let me know he valued that in a woman and always remembered that about me. So when he appeared there in Southern California with dinner I became willing. Willing for something new and that is to say yes more often. Yes!

Well yes- maybe. It is still mainly no. No to every Tom, Dick and Harry in my inbox. No to the married man we all know. That was a surprise! You never know who is thinking what about you? Did he really think I would say yes to just a weekend getaway no one would know about? I guess he did, that is how much he knew me. I am not her. She, many years ago, would have went. She would have chosen to escape this life and those feelings months ago when the offer was made- even if it was just for a moment. I am not her! I thought we were friends?  I wonder what your friend would have thought about that?

So back to the swiping. I have a dating coach. She has been in retirement for several years, but graciously made her presence again. She suggested Bumble, Tinder, Plenty of Fish and Cream Cheese and Bagels, or was it Coffee and Bagels? I said yes to a month; Biker Planet, sure why not- just one month there too. Facebook even came out with a dating app and it was as if they knew I would be dating again. That was a funny. I am very funny in my own little head to some- even if that some is only me. I make me laugh and smile better than anyone, it just took me a minute to get back there. I am there again and have been for some time.

Let’s chat about Coffee and Bagels, I am pretty sure I was the cream cheese. I think they are a bit elitist? Most from the bay area of the state of California where I reside. If I say yes, we can hang out and even hit the Apple party in November or was it Google? This wonderful app even gave me pointers on how and when to respond. Not too fast now, wait a day or two and the reasons why behind the push notifications. Let’s not forget when to make the first move and to check in and why. Very handsome men in all the apps I have seen, in the past few months I have seen plenty. Biker Planet- Wow. Now I am not too superficial whatsoever, but really. First of all let’s live in reality, I attempt to on a daily basis. All I will say about that app is it was a waste of my time that I will never be able to regain.

Facebook dating has been the most amusing. It was as if it happened overnight and the hounds were released. I can take a pretty picture, but do you see me? Do you know what I am like? No one really knows deep down what I am like- I myself am still learning all the deepest secrets my heart and mind have locked away. The years of torture I endured at my own hands will be the reasons I move out of love. I shed a tear just then while clacking that out; it is wonderful to feel.

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So with the Facebook dating eventually came the people we may know in common, that was only a matter of time I am sure- those Fellowship people. I deleted Facebook dating too within the week. I don’t need Facebook to help me figure out who to date next. I have my friends all over the place making suggestions and offers- people they may know. They deserve the love I have and the very best; how sweet they think that is me. Some of those offers are not bad either, I am just not ready yet.

The yet. I will be ready one day; just not yet. I don’t know when? Waiting for me is all I will be doing for a while and for someone who I find intriguing to ask me out this time. What does my life look like right now?  Work- work on many levels. The internal work, the work- work and the financial work to get me where I want to be one day. As I clack this out I have a grant proposal I am writing simultaneously for my organization on another doc- I am the lead writer now. A little too late and that is OK as well. Also a grant I am researching for a private organization because I have begun freelance writing. I am capable of many things.

The most important thing I have written lately is my resume and my Statement of Qualifications; not my dating profile- although dangit that looks pretty good and I am not giving up there. I have interviewed, have practiced my interview and am even interviewing again this week. I am hopeful. I am hopeful on many levels. I will just keep going and growing. I have made it to fifty, my children are all off on their own and the young child is soaring at this very moment in college with her own independence; an independence I am learning to embrace myself. The dreams I am making happen and will never stop conjuring up. I am loving the new horizons; no matter what. So as I intended to continue on with this dating adventure and quite possibly discuss San Antonio I will have to save that for next time. Maybe when I return? Now the house has just filled with love as so many faces have mingled in for a meal while the music plays in the background. I am present today- so I must go.

The Chicken Lady Coffemeetsbagel_logo18

Addict · Bloggess · Childhood · Life · Life story · Mother · schools · students · Uncategorized

Schools in America…

The coffee is brewing as I clack on these keys and I can hear a few sounds stirring from the chicken coop. I love the fact that the chicken run is right outside my bedroom window and I have no screen, it also allows for Hermes my big fat cat to jump in through the middle of the night at his leisure and snuggle with me. Hermes the cat has gone from a farm cat, to a city cat and now an alley cat and he still loves me. I am not sure if he loves all the sounds that come with the fast paced area we now live in, however he has adjusted with time. He knows to stay away from the dogs that we share a home with- he is so smart, I wish the chickens learned that too. I had to clip some wings to ensure the ladies did not fly over the fence again- I have eight hens- four young girls and four just a month or two older. No one has lost their life yet and no one is laying either, however that will change with time as well. The street is just a few houses away, it is a rather busy street and in the wee hours of the morning when I rise I can hear just a few cars swoosh by. The sound I love the most is the train. I prefer the silence mostly- birds, chickens and the coffee brewing. But if I had to hear different, the sounds of the train take me back to a time when all I could do was dream of what life was like. Life is good now. Life will always be good as long as I’m floating on this earth. I digress as usual.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of doing what I love to do most for my organization- I went to school. As part of my “Other Duties as Required” I get to deliver lifesaving programs to students in California schools in hopes that students gain some valuable information to make better choices for their futures. The information delivered varies on the grant-funding that I also have the privilege of honing my skills on, yes one of those other duties still. I love what I do.

As I was wrapping up yesterday’s program and thanking the students for their participation while asking the proverbial questions attempting to invoke some last minute thoughts before my departure as I gathered up my end of presentation evaluations- the overhead speakers came on- lockdown. Teachers we are on lockdown and please implement lockdown procedures. I looked around as the entire room shifted.

The teacher who I had been with, who was just laughing with me for all the technical issues we had for the day involving the incompatibilities with our equipment (she was a Mac user and I am not), rushed to the door and grabbed a cover which she then slipped over the window while she hit the lights. In moments she had directed us all into an adjoining room. I had been in the production room for the day, cameras and a make shift studio where the students practiced their media skills creating the school weekly news. The adjoining room was what seemed like the editing room, computers and cabinets everywhere with extra lighting stands lined against the back wall.

Doors were shut and all cabinets were immediately opened. The cabinets were tall free standing against the whole wall for optimal storage of all the equipment we were surrounded with. We were told to get on the floor and be quiet- the lights were off remember and in the back room there were no windows. It was dark. Just then the intercom went off again- lockdown, this is not a drill, and then there was nothing but silence.

As the teacher looked at me from across the dark room I could see all the high school kids I had just been joking with before while I tried to keep them involved with the presentation on their phones. All you could see was the dim lights that came from the windows of the outside room that penetrated the glass that separated the rooms and the lights from phones. I just sat there.

I will not exaggerate whatsoever on the time that passed- well over ten minutes. Ten minutes without another sound. The thoughts that race through your head. Seriously! This is it? This is how I go? What’s happening outside? What’s going on? Where are my kids? What will I do? All of that happened in moments. I chose not to send a text to the family group chat, I chose not to panic anyone. I did get one of those random texts from a long ago high school friend myself at that time. So I did respond to him about the current situation of events as he was sending short videos of his ride. I let him know they would have to be watched later- I was busy. Would later come?

At roughly eight minutes into our sequestered event there was a loud bang that echoed through the wall I was against. On the other side of that wall was the longest hall that I had walked down to gain entrance into the class that I was in. Where did the sound come from? Was it in the room with us? I couldn’t tell, I really couldn’t. The teacher whispered asking if one of us made that sound and the student nearest to me apologized. He had inadvertently leaned against something that fell from the wall and that was the bang. I looked at him through the darkness and laughed as I told him how much he scared me. We were immediately hushed.

Minutes later the intercom came on again- lockdown over. Other words were said but I really had no clue what they were. I got up, listened to the teacher apologize for keeping me so long after the day had ended and I left. Walking out the classroom door was eerie. That long hall was empty. The can from the janitor who cleans up at the end of the day with all the brooms and bags was just sitting lonely in the middle of nothing. As I kept walking and hit the corridor doors I entered the main enclosed campus area that led to the outside area. The students were everywhere and the chatter was endless.IMG_5654

I still don’t know what happened, I am not a news watcher. Was it even news worthy? The police were outside, but they were outside when I entered for the day. It is commonplace for police to be at schools today unfortunately – I know because I am constantly in school. So funny because when I was a student myself I was never in school. It just wasn’t my thing.

Well as I made my way to the parking lot I passed groups of students sharing how they were scared. How they were texting their parents how much they loved them. No one knew what was happening outside as we were locked down inside. Where had all the football players and outside students been rushed to? I heard students talking about how they were shut indoors, in the office and in classrooms. I kept walking to the lot. Parents were already there. Many I am sure had been there to pick up kids and just got swept up in the moments.

The moments no one thinks about when you wake in the morning, when you get ready for the day. When you try to figure out what outfit you will wear or what you will do in the evening when you get home. When you make your plans for the dreams you want in life that swirl around in your head.

Sitting in my car in that lot I finally texted my family. It was frightening. I let them know where I was and what happened and of course that I was OK. I turned the key on the ignition and I left. I shed a few tears on the way in amazement. This is what school is like today. This is what life is like today in schools all across America.

My hats off to that teacher, to the administration and to all schools across the US of A. They had knew and it was obvious they had practiced and been prepared for such an event. Do we pay them enough for this? Is this part of the job description today of teacher’s across America? Does this fall under “Other Duties as Required?” It does today.

The Chicken LadyIMG_5655

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Dillon Beach

I remember when I was young coming to Dillon Beach the first time with friends. A boyfriend in fact. A group of couples camping, I was maybe 14. Then we came often alone. Then I came often alone- after I’d run away. This place has always held a piece of my heart. Wasted youth.

Oh the parties we had on the beach, the bonfires and fun. To be so young and so in love with life; in love with him too. I remember. I still had so many hopes and dreams- school, friends, family and travel. I was 13 when I met him and almost 16 when I left him; when I left the life that I knew.

I met John on my 13th birthday in fact at the kegger my 20 year old boyfriend and I were throwing at my house. Good times. My mother had left for the evening- intentionally so I could have the party. My uncle had furnished a few extra bottles of booze; pre-mixed Long Island Ice Tea, Meyers Rum and of course my fave Southern Comfort. Yes times were different.

Bobby Scott was the older boyfriend who I would leave shortly after my birthday. I’d been in love with him since maybe the age of 9; the local charmer from Arden Manor. He used to have all the girls swooning at the swimming pool- he was a diver from the high board. Bobby was always sweet to us though and threw everyone off his shoulders into the water. He died a few years back from a broken heart in his addiction.

If you would have said I would grow up to be an addict when I was a kid- no one would have believed you. I didn’t even know what an addict was. I did though, grow up to be an addict. Yes through the choices I made I chose using over everything until I found a new way to live.

I remember coming to this beach about 8 years ago with my family and as my kids played in the ocean I laid back and shed a lot of tears for the life that I chose. How did that happen? I knew exactly when- when I ran and left him. I would not stop running for years. Sure I came up for air sometimes, but those wee brief moments never lasted long.

It was an argument with Mom that sparked it. John and her were close, close enough for her to write letters all over the state of California helping him get on with the California Department of Forestry. However this argument led to a threatening of police intervention and having him arrested for statutory rape. The man I had been with for years. The man I planned a whole lot of my life with, her too. The man that I convinced to let me terminate the child I was carrying. I wanted to wait.

His mother took that real hard, so did John. Something was different in me though. I was already using more than anyone knew and had witnessed too much. The secrets were already there. The things that I had been subjected too and seen at a young age would already mold my thinking- for years to come.

After the argument I went to John, he knew, she had already been to his work. His words, let me shower and we can go together to talk to her, we will work it out and it will all be ok. Of course I said ok. He jumped in the shower, I yelled in I was going to the corner for a pack of smokes- I never returned. Ever to him.

My sense of protection was all I had for so long. Warped I might add. I was not protected when I was young so all I had was the code that I would create- what meant something to me. To leave at all costs and protect them from her and her would eventually become me.

Well right now my grandchildren are stirring and I must get breakfast started. So far it’s ice cream and cocoa until I create a masterpiece for my family. We are at the beach house at Dillon Beach. I’ve shed a few tears this morning alone before anyone woke as I looked out the bay window clacking this out on my phone sipping my coffee in between.

I have an incredible life. I know the choices that I made have led me to the life that I have today and I appreciate it so much. I’ve learned from that little girl, I’m still learning from that little girl. The more I write the more she heals. So I will continue to write, I will continue to heal and I will continue to love my life!

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A Chang In Seasons….

This little ditty was written a year ago today, September 3, 2016. In my attempt to capture my previous reflections I am pleased that the social media site I use frequently assists me in this endeavor-Facebook.  I’m not sure how much longer I will use this site, for me I sometimes feel I am just about done with it. However Facebook allows me to connect with people all around the world with a certain circle I run with, so for now I stay. I will always stay in that circle though either way- no matter what. 

Just one more side note, it’s actually a Sunday now but I will not change the text. I am at my little beach house again, as I always am at this time  of year. I’m with different people- it’s a different season in so many ways. I’m still blossoming. 

Saturday Morning with Coffee and Chickens
A change in season’s is just what I needed…  
I love the fall, it is my absolute favorite season out of the four. It calls for sweaters in the mornings, good coffee, a drive up the mountain to Apple Hill, or maybe even the ocean. I love the ocean when it’s cold out. 

The tides, just like the leaves falling, remind me that everything keeps changing. I am learning as I get older, to just roll with it too. There are no guarantees, I would like to think there are though. Is that just me?

If we are lucky, we keep going, growing, learning, and living. The past, my past, was just but a few moments strung together that lasted a little longer than the average day. What’s funny though is, I can look at it now as a season. Those seasons of my life are long gone, they hold memories, some good, and yes some bad. They have taught me a few things that I will take with me on my journey though, thankfully.

Fall is here, it’s my favorite and I am just going to enjoy this season of my life! 

The Chicken Lady