Love Blooms Here…
Raining Outside…Sunshine Inside
Already Rich…
Although I would really like to win the lottery to help my family and friends, have money to fund shelters for the homeless, find ways to help women just released from prison and to be able to donate to dog rescue organizations, I am already rich.
I have flowers, fruit trees, a pink and yellow porch, the love of a damn good man who is sometimes cranky but accepts my crazy, three beautiful kids who at this minute are all speaking to me, fourteen grandchildren who think I’m Santa Claus, three great-grandchildren who will learn that I’m not Santa Claus, two funny angel Chihuahuas, a heated pool, an awesome house, my angel daughter-in-law Jessica, two incredible sisters, one whacked-out funny brother, a blue tooth speaker, a karaoke machine, butterflies who come when I call them….and I live in Florida.
I have thinkingpinkx2 to keep me on the Pink road and my wonderful friend who is the best half of thinkingpinkx2, Michelle Marie.
I have unlimited, low-cost air travel and I can grow an African Violet.
What else could an old (er) lady want?
Well, maybe some new skin and better bones, fake boobs and the hair I had at seventeen, but I have to say, even without those adornments, I am already rich.
Once upon a time…
❅Sparkle❅and❅Twinkle Tips❅
She Floats Like a Feather in the Wind
Cases of Marshmallows
I think we all wonder what we could have done differently, at least once in a while.
Well, I did some intense wondering the other day.
If I had it to do over again, I would pack up my three babies and a trailer full of supplies and I would drive up into the mountains.
I would build us a home in the woods, a big log cabin.
I would add a huge screen room for us to play in when the weather was rainy or snowy.
When the weather was good, we would tramp through the woods and learn about plants and flowers and butterflies and birds.
I would teach my kids to respect nature.
We would grow our own vegetables and then we would can and preserve them.
We would make jellies and jams from the berries that grew wild and apple pies from the apples growing on our own trees.
I would be their teacher, not the radio or the television, not the gang on the corner. I would teach them about music and we would play vinyl records on our record player, which would be powered by our solar generator. No Satanic music in their ears, no lyrics demanding that they “kill the effing pigs” or screaming “I want your sex.”
I would teach them how to read and how to write.
I would teach them everything they needed to know to go out into the world, but the world would not have polluted them.
They would not have watched me fight to hold on to myself. There would not have been angry, controlling, critical men in our lives.
They would have never seen commercials that used sex to sell everything from shampoo to cars.
They would never have eaten at McDonald’s, getting hooked on disgusting hamburgers made with pink slime. They would have home-baked bread that they helped me cook and they would learn to cook and bake.
They would have squirrels, butterflies, rabbits and the birds in the trees as pets.
Our little home would be surrounded by trees, grass, flowers and vegetables.
My supplies would include books for all ages, finger paints and crayons, scissors and tape and glue, glitter and paper. I would encourage their artistic spirit because we are all born with a creative spirit but it is fragile and so many things can crush it. They would be encouraged, not held down by a limited, biased school agenda.
In the fall, we would twist branches into wreaths and decorate them with pine cones.
We would decorate our Christmas tree with homemade sugar cookies, popcorn and nuts and the flowers we dried in the summer.
We would sit under the stars and roast marshmallows. Oh yes, I would bring cases of marshmallows.
They would have a chance to grow up without negative influences and they would not spend hours watching other people live on the television set.
Angels would surround us as I tucked them into bed each night.
I think we all wonder what we could have done differently, at least once in a while.
Snowed-Out
Okay, I have been taking flak from my family all winter because I live in Florida… Well, it’s time to set the record straight.
Yes, I live in the only warm, perfect little piece of the United States.
Yes, I have year-round sunshine, plenty of rain for my flowers and just a few cool nights when all the plants have to come in the house.
Yes, I have a yard full of tropical flowers that are gorgeous and there are no gardening limits beyond my imagination.
Yes, we have flowering hibiscus trees in every color. Yes, the blooms are as big as a salad plate.
Yes, we just planted a Pink Puff tree. (I sat and watched the puffs open today.)
Yes, I have a pool that now has a solar heater so I that I can swim year-round because I am NOT getting into 60 degree water!
Never mind that I swam in the ocean in New Hampshire with water that had permanent icicles for thirty-six years.
Never mind that my sister and I once streaked naked through that ocean in November. My body has changed and it does not like cold.
Still, I would stand beside you all, stand right by your snow drifts with you, if I could.
With all that said, let me tell you what I have been through this winter.
I have been snowed-out while you are all complaining about being snowed-in. I have been kept out. I have been kept out of Maine, New Hampshire and Oklahoma. I have been stopped from visiting my sisters and their families, my son and his wife and their new baby, my brother, my granddaughter and her baby boy, my newly found niece and my daughter.
I have been trapped in this sunshine and it hurts and I don’t want to hear no more hoo-haa about living in the land of sunshine while you are a living in the land of six-foot snow banks and having to put your kids out in the parking spaces with cones on their heads to save your parking spaces after you shovel.
No, I don’t have to shovel but I have to sit here and miss everybody and I am snowed-out.
You know, we have problems here in Florida too. We are expecting a cold front tomorrow, record lows in the 70’s.
So, the next someone says squat when I post my pictures of flowers glowing in the sunshine, they are going to get a smack upside the head because I miss you, my family and I am snowed-out.
It’s not my fault. I tried to move back to New England. I sold my house. I put a contract on a house in Laconia, NH. Both deals fell through. I would have been moving January 31st, just in time for the first big snow storm, but God said, “No, you just stay right where you are little Missy,” and that’s the way it happened…
Family, I love you, I miss you and I would love to be snowed in with you instead of being snowed out, I promise.
So please shut up.
Then there were Pink clouds and all was calm
Michelle Marie made this beautiful piece of art for me and for thinkingpinkx2…
photo by Jeanne Marie
“Then there were Pink clouds and all was calm
Pink centers me, I love Pink clouds”~ Jeanne Marie
A Can of PINK Paint
It all started with a can of pink paint. I was sitting on my porch when my husband came home from running errands and he proudly handed me a can of hot pink paint.
He had a big smile on his face as I whooped and hollered and took the can of paint from him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I said. “Is this for my porch?”
“I got it to do the front door,” he answered.
“You said you wanted a hot pink front door, but if you want it for your porch, you can have it. I wasn’t sure how dark to get anyway and it might be a bit light for the door.”
“Oh yes,” I said, “much too light for the door, perfect for the porch.”
“Well it’s your porch and you always said you wanted it pink, with a yellow ceiling, so why not?”
And that is exactly how a can of pink paint started a three-day work of love project.
He went back to the store and bought me a perfect sunshine yellow for the ceiling and a darker hot pink for the front door. We painted the porch together and it was exciting to watch a daydream turn into reality. We don’t usually work well together, but our 32nd anniversary was the same weekend we painted the porch, so maybe that’s the reason we spent three happy days together, painting, tearing out a thirty-year old rug, laying a new floor and having fun.
By the fourth day, we were giving each other a bit too much advice, but we finished the porch without a fight and that makes the porch even more special to me.
The morning after we finished he went out and came back with a surprise, an antique plant stand, the perfect last touch. Now, no matter how dreary or rainy the day gets, my porch is glowing with happy, sunshine, flowers and good memories. I also got the PINK front door!
I just want to hold you…when you fell like…you’re not enough
Perfect…
Painting In The Dark
Last week, my husband and I painted our porch. We did the ceiling in sunshine yellow, some bright pink on the trim and we weren’t sure what to do with the panels on the bottom.
After painting the first day, I took a shower and tried to relax. When it was dusk outside, I went out on the porch just to see the colors again. First thing I noticed was the yellow ceiling carried its glow to a wall outside.
Looking at all the changes that we had already made, I got in the mood to paint just a bit more. I stood there, trying to decide what color would go best on the bottom panels, but I drew a blank. I said, “Oh God, I don’t know what color to pick.” (I was serious.)
The light out there was low and I didn’t want to go in for a flashlight to shine on all the paint cans, so I opened a can of what I thought was a pale pinkish gray lavender that I had gotten on sale. Somebody had ordered it up and then had come to their senses, that’s my guess, and it had just been waiting for me to come along.
I opened it and began to paint the bottom panels. I couldn’t really judge the color that I was using without a stronger light, so I just hoped for the best and after painting a few panels, I went to bed, thinking if it looked awful I could always paint it again.
When I got up and went out on the porch, I said to my husband, “Wow that lavender actually matches the paint we used to trim the house. It looks pink.”
He took a look and he said, “Yeah it does, because it is the same color as the trim on the house. I got another gallon to touch up outside.” We started to laugh.
The color was perfect because it brought the porch in line with the trim outside and it blended well with the sunshine yellow and the hot pink.
I never would have picked that color for my inside porch, but when I blindly reached for a can, prayed and hoped for the best, it turned out perfect. Maybe that’s how things happen when we give it to God and we let go.
Maybe painting in the dark is the only way to choose the right color. I don’t know but it worked for me.
I have to believe that He helps me with the little things, the minute by minute decisions I make each day or I couldn’t believe He helps me with the huge things.
Even so, it was a wonderful surprise to see that my hand had been led to open the soft pink paint because that shade brought the room together with the outside of the house.
Sometimes, you just have to paint in the dark and hope for the best.
Jeanne Marie, 2014
Google Me No More!
From last year…
Google sent me a text from its no such place mansion in The Cloud, asking me a stupid question in the middle of night. They asked me if I wanted to update Google Play. They asked me that question at 2:00 a.m., to be exact, and it is far from the first time that Google couldn’t sleep. Well, Google let me think about this…
I was sound asleep.
I don’t play with Google on my cell phone, only on my Android pad.
Texts in the middle of the night mean one thing to me…someone I love is in deep do-do because…
I have a daughter who makes the Hot Mug Shots page at least twice a year.
I have a great-grandson who was born less than 2 weeks ago, promptly turned yellow and we discovered that he fractured his little shoulder during his journey through the birth canal, (8 pounds…
View original post 261 more words
whispers like. . .
whispers like…from Michelle Marie
whispers like. . .
butterfly kisses
bubbles touching skin
breezes blowing
always knowing
i have
butterflies
in my soul
thoughts of you
whispers like. . .
this
PINK To do list~for Jeanne Marie
Love my To Do list!
I Am Cinderella
I dream that I am Cinderella and I am running and running and I have lost my glass slippers and I have lost my dresses. I have lost everything because the man I loved has taken it all away.
The next morning, I start walking back to the castle to reclaim my dresses, my glass slippers and my books.
I will tell him, “I want everything but the castle, the crown and you, my Prince.”
One day later…and there is a new Princess in my place. She is beautiful and she is young and she has my slippers, she has my books, she has my dresses, she has my castle, she has my crown and she has my Prince.
I tell her that she can keep it all except my slippers, my dresses and my books.
Wait! I am Cinderella and I will clean his dirty ashes no more.
Yes, I am Cinderella and I am beautiful and I will flee from this dark castle.
I don’t need the damn slippers. No, I don’t need anything that I left behind when I ran away.
Now I understand, I have everything that I need in my heart and he can keep the castle, the crown, the slippers, the dresses and my books.
I turn and I walk away. I am no longer naked. I have found my old dresses and my old shoes in a shack behind the castle.
I see my grown son walking toward me and I say, “I’m sorry. I can’t stay. I feel as if I won a million dollars last night.”
He says, “Then you have to go and do what you do and be wonderful, use your wonderful, Mom.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I tell him as he hugs me.
“That’s okay, it doesn’t matter if you did. It’s fine, as long as you’re happy.”
I don’t want to leave him and as I walk away, I’m glad I told him I was as happy as if I had found a million dollars, because he understands money, but my freedom is worth so much more than a million dollars.
At last. Freedom. I have found my wings. I can fly.
I have my old dresses and I have my old shoes and I am still Cinderella.
The Prince can keep the castle and all the belongings.
I have my freedom and I can feel my glitter returning.
I cried in the castle because I was sad, but now I am happy and I am free.
My heart is torn to shreds, lying in pieces on the ground, but my soul, oh thank you God, my soul is healing.
The castle is behind me, the Prince and all of my belongings are in the hands of another woman, my shoes are old, but who needs new?
I sigh as I slip the last reminder off my finger, the gold wedding band that once upon a time, made me feel proud when it shone in the sun.
For just a moment…I hold it in my hand.
Then, I fling it over the water fall, watching it disappear.
Let the Prince buy her a new ring.
I run and I run and I am me, I am Cinderella.
Jeanne Marie
…and I would throw snowballs at your bedroom window at midnight…
I wish I lived in a little New England farmhouse with the wood stove burning and a fire in the fireplace. Beans would be cooking on the wood stove, snow would be falling outside my window and you, living right down the street.
I would sneak over and I would throw snowballs at your bedroom window at midnight so you would come out to see who it was and then I would dance in the snow under the moonlight and it wouldn’t hurt because the cold snow would make my foot pain better, and you would shiver in your doorway and say, “Get in here, you idiot!”
I would grab two icicles from your front window and dance into your warm kitchen and we would have hot chocolate with pink marshmallows and we would laugh.
We would talk for hours like when we were little girls and we would forget that we are not little girls anymore because when we are together we are just sisters. We are not old, we are not crippled, we are not grandmothers, we are not great-grandmothers (me) and we are not old ladies.
Because when we are together, we are young girls again with our future in front of us and we laugh…and I would throw snowballs at your bedroom window at midnight…
Pink Front Door…You Are So Beautiful To Me
This beautiful Pink Door is just one of my many 32nd anniversary presents from my husband. He wanted a green door but he painted the front door PINK to see me smile. This is the first song my husband dedicated to me 35 years ago, so it just seems like it all works together, my honey, the song, the PINK door and me.
Telling Secrets…
Happy Valentine’s Day
i will stay awake for you~because I love you~I’m here for you sweet one
This is a wonderful post from Michelle Marie and it sparked a memory for me. When I was younger (early 20’s) I was struggling with alcoholism. I used to call my sister at all hours of the night and she always got out of bed for me. Her husband would flip out when I called her in the middle of the night so she would take the phone in to her bathroom and sit there on the cold floor, talking to me for hours.
I have been sober since I was twenty-three and along with God’s grace, my sister helped me to stay alive with those late night calls.
Her son died a few months ago and when I talk to her, I tell her to call me anytime, I will wake up for her.
Sweet B did this a lot with me when I could not sleep I would wake up and see her awake and she would say what do you need I am here for you and that’s how it started @3 am this wonderful friendship!
You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings
For my Partner in Pink
A beautiful Sand crane was standing on a wire looking down into my porch when she waved her wings at me.
I said, “Hey, come on down here and visit.”
She didn’t fly down to me, so I assumed that she didn’t have much to say.
She simply stood on one leg and waved her impressive, white wings.
She stared at me for a long while, until I began to wonder if maybe she was my mother.
Yes, I believe that our deceased loved ones can visit us, in numerous forms.
I sat watching her and I was entranced by her grace as she balanced on one foot.
Then, she lifted her wings and let the wind gently flow beneath them, moving like a ballerina on a tight rope, a dance so beautiful to behold.
Now I know why someone wrote the song, “You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings” because that’s exactly what she needed to touch the sky.
When the wind had lifted her wings sufficiently, she bounced on her feet and lifted off, a precious free spirit with wings that could carry her up, up into the clouds.
When I went out in the yard, a single white feather blew by my feet. I bent over to pick it up and brought it in the house.
I gave it a home in a glass mug, home to dozens of feathers from other visitors.
You’ve got a friend in ME
For all of our precious thinkingpinkx2 followers…Happy Valentine’s Day
Hold Onto Your Pink…
I go Pink from thinkingpinkx2
From last February…
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
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