Blog Archives


I am aware that when I go quiet, it is because there is much going on internally.

Right now, there is a lot going on with Mr. Yummy and with my spiritual journey and, I am good.

Happy Friday, maybe this weekend I will take the time to sit and write.

My sissy came to my work yesterday and marveled at the aroma of my beeswax filled world. This made me happy.

*I’m back*

I just wanted to add something.

I just sent my sissy a text thanking her for coming by work and experiencing the place that brings me so much happiness and peace. I was telling her I love my minimum wage job, but the fact that it brings such peace and happiness really makes it a very valuable place for me to be…so it’s really not minimum wage if you see the actual value it adds to MY life. See, I believe money isn’t the MOST valuable currency.

Then, something happened.

I became Holly Hunter for a minute. Do you remember Broadcast News? Every morning, she set aside five minutes, and cried. The five-minute cry.

Screen-Shot-2013-04-12-at-10.28.00-AMIt wasn’t the controlled and timed neurotic melt-down she scheduled, but sometimes…I just feel like I need to set aside a few minutes of private each day to release the ” happy, happy, joy, joy!” moments that reverberate in my life.

OK so NOW…Happy Friday!


Things Will BE…

I know things are brewing.

I just have to stay open and at the moment, in a few instances, I can really feel unresolved shit beneath it all. It is up to me to let go and forgive and replace the anger with love.

There are two people in my life that sort of stood outside when I tumbled down the rabbit hole. Actually, that is not correct, it’s just that these two people are so close, and so loved, that the chasms dig deep. NEVER, not once have I stopped loving. NOT ONE DAY has passed that I haven’t thought of them, but I haven’t let go of the hurt and sometimes, anger associated with it all.

Regardless, I am at a point in my life, where I am happy. I know how to be happy. I know how to choose love and happiness and those doors are always, and have always been open on my side. The hurt and anger is because, it’s not a two-way street.

The difference for me, in my life NOW, is I know that I AM love.

It’s time to shower and prepare for another day of beeswax.

That shit, rocks my world. I wish I could explain it to you, but I seriously feel totally grounded by it. More than ever, I want to bee-keep. Somewhere out there is a place where I will do this. I know through work, I have connections.

Why I Want To Give You So Much Space…

You go where no man has gone before.

I want to be your final frontier.



They come and go.

Some are sweet and innocent and some, are not.

Most leave me shaking my head in amazement and I continue to be grateful.

From the very first time I was near him, (He was sticking his head out of a ceiling above me on a construction site) his smell stabbed me in the brain. He wears a different cologne these days, but I still smell HIM. He still stabs me in the brain.

I like coming home and having moments where I miss him. I don’t think we ever really had that before. Not till I went to Alaska and then, it became tragic because we broke up.

I am so overwhelmed with emotion that when I drove home last Saturday, I cried for at least the last ten miles. Not sad, just…joy.

It is delicious, delicious coffee time.

Ahhhhhhh, Yes!

I struggle finding words.

Tender, caring, considerate, attentive and, determined are all valid.

I was sitting on his couch, relaxing for the first time in a day and a half. I opened my eyes, and he was standing there looking at me with this happy little smirk. It made me ask, “What?”

“I like seeing you relaxing on my couch is all.”

We watched The Band; The Last Waltz, we took a shower, watched a movie and were shocked to still be awake at 3 AM, so we went to bed, didn’t sleep for another few hours, and were up again by around 7:30. I was spooned, back to his front. I had a wicked hot-flash, he felt it and blew all over my back. It was delicious.

I look at him and all I can think is: My Love.

He took a shampoo from fourteen motherfucking years ago out from under his sink, that was mine. He saved it all these years.

%d bloggers like this: