My Dear John Letter Part 4- Strawberry Fields Forever


Daily Prompt: A to Z

All around us, the air is charged with magical energy.

Before our eyes, scenes of love and destruction play out.




Fate wiggles her fingers, making the puppets dance.

God or Goddess?  

Humanity or Mother Earth?

It’s a timeless battle.

Just out of reach; the elusive TRUTH

Kaleidoscope eyes are needed.

Look beyond the veil.

Mercy, faith, and love may win out yet.

Naysayers scream in defiance.

Outside of ourselves lies the gateway.

Pride and greed unbalance already tipping scales.

Quests and prayers, but to what end?

Reason and clarity take a step back, falling into the recesses of souls.

So it has always been, such it may always be.

TRUTH, there seem to be too many versions of it.

Unless we learn to see with the same eyes, it shall never be found.

Viciousness in the name of love.

When will we throw off these lies?

Xanadu isn’t a fairy tale, it’s a possibility.

You, me, and the billions of humans that roam this planet are the future.

Zion is a place only to be found in our hearts.

Apparently, I am simple.

For my friends suffering from Fibromyalgia, this blog is dedicated to one woman’s trials and triumphs (big or small) fighting this curious disease.

Sick and Sick of It

I went back to the homeopath, the one that “I’m Not That Simple”  is about. Joyful, right? Well.

First thing he says to me is “Ella. You look better.” I got this feeling inside that I was about to have the most wonderful experience of my entire life. Really. I’m being serious.

No I’m not. First, he did the same thing that annoyed me last time (which I could say about a hundred things, so I’ll be specific). He read out every symptom I have, and asked me if I still have each one.

Me: We can just skip this, I feel exactly the same.

Dr: Exactly the same?

Me: Yes.

Dr: But you look better.

Me: I tanned.

Dr: You have more color in your face.

Me: Because I tanned.

Dr: So you still have the head aches?

Me: Yes.

Dr: And they still start in the morning?


View original post 545 more words

Get Back To Where You Once Belonged

Sometimes, you just have to take a break, take it easy, and Let It Be.  That’s what I’m doing right now.  I’m sitting at my Dad and Step-mom’s house with my two youngest, just hanging out.  This is a relatively new experience due to a life time of estrangement.  Fate decided enough was enough when a random encounter with a father I’d sworn to myself never to speak to or of again happened with my children present.  You see, I’d only ever spoken of my Daddy, and that was my Step-dad, a man I hold in the highest regard, and loved with my entire heart and soul.  As we walked away after a faltering, awkward chit chat and the inevitable halfhearted “I’ll get ahold of you laters”, one of my daughters looked at me and asked who that man had been.  My heart dropped into my stomach, and I stammered out a response they didn’t expect at all.

“That was your Grandpa.”  The deadness in my tone only confused them further, as the only grandfather they had known about was my Daddy.  Naturally they had assumed they were one and the same.  This was even more of a conundrum, as they were sure my Daddy had been dead for some time, which he had.  

I had to confess to my kids, that I, their mom who had prided myself on being so honest and upfront with my kids, had kept a secret from them.  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them on purpose, I simply had decided that part of my life was over.  Stubborn pride had robbed my babies of memories my Dad and Step-mom would have gladly given, because I had been so convinced I was vindicated in my reasons for cutting them out of my life.  This is one of my most shameful moments in my entire life.

I made a decision right then and there, I’d fix this. I was scared it might be too late, too many years had passed without even a word passing between us.  The irony of it all, my Dad and my Daddy had become very good friends during my teen years, and had remained so until his death, and to this day, my Dad and Step-mom share our family’s pain at the loss of such an amazing human being.  I don’t remember exactly who called the other first, but he and I struck a deal, we’d just let it go.  He didn’t hold any resentment of my love for the honorable man I called Daddy.  My Ma and my Step-mom were also friends, which I had always found to be weird.  Obviously, Dad and Ma, well they were civil at best.  No, It was me who had walked away from my Dad and his darling wife.  It was time the chasm closed.  

Over the past few years, we’ve begun to get to know each other again, and the kids love chilling out at their house, which is very conveniently located across the street from a park that I can see the Clones from the big bay window, when they get tired of listening to the grown ups talk.  It turns out we have a lot in common , including my love of the Fab Four!!  I definitely know now that I am a woman shaped from the ideologies of my first love. I’m a hippie love child.  

So, we’re sitting here, my kids and the folks, watching Tom and Jerry, and just groovin.  It’s peaceful, harmonious.   

First of all, I’d like to apologize for my hiatus.  I’ve been in something of a funk, and my words and my thoughts haven’t wanted to match up at all.  Rather irritating, really, but what can ya do? So, today I decided to just try to get what’s been on my mind out, and forget about whether it’s good or bad; just write.  So let me lay it on ya.

I’m disgusted, confused, and worried about the world around me.  I truly do feel like The Fool on the Hill.  Maybe I’m just seeing the world through new eyes, and what I see saddens me.  As a mom, I want the best future possible for my children, and like almost every other mom I know, I teach my kids to eat healthy, obey the law, be free thinkers, self sufficient, intelligent, caring, and responsible human beings.  Then I find out that the food I feed them contains GMO’s that are slowly killing them, the country I love is now allowing the arrest of CHILDREN for insanely inane offenses, murderers go free, and women defending themselves from attack go to jail.  I am not religious, as I’ve stated before, but I am spiritual, and let me tell ya, this is wearing on my soul.

My kids pick up other people’s litter, gladly, I might add, because as I’ve often told them: “Mother Nature and I had a talk, and she doesn’t like that at all!”  So, they do their part, we recycle, we conserve energy, the whole shebang.  How can I look them in the eyes and tell them that it will honestly help save our planet from certain destruction?  It makes me angry, honestly, to think that no matter what morals I try to instill in them, they will still grow up in a place that allows, no, ENCOURAGES, selfishness, hate and greed!

We don’t watch the news in our house, in fact, my children are very strictly moderated on what I will let them view.  It has to be something that will build their characters, and they won’t find that on regular TV.  We don’t even have cable *GASP!!!*  I monitor their reading material, encouraging them to read classics over many modern children’s books.  I will joyfully give them the original Grimm’s Fairy Tales and reject current popular series.  If my kids want to read Greek mythologies, I infinitely prefer Homer to Percy Jackson.

Sometimes it feels as if I’m fighting a losing battle, but I continue to push history over current fads.  I often wish I could time warp back to pre-Industrial Age life.  It seems as we progress technologically, we regress in humanity.  Political correctness runs amuck, cruelty abounds, and we humans have forgotten how to live in harmony with the Earth that sustains us.  We’ve poisoned her waters, and land.  The air is so polluted we have smog level alerts!  What is wrong with this picture?

Does anyone else feel that Gaia will erase the human race from the face of the Earth sooner than later?  We eradicate pests from our homes, why wouldn’t She?  The Old Gods are gone, and with them, man’s responsibility and fear of what is greater than us.  I’ve rejected religion as a whole, having read enough “sacred texts” to dizzy me.  In my eyes, they are simply stories, like any other books.  I feel like I can be closer to a Higher Power of any kind in my own heart than by following rote and dogma.  All I have to do is be outside, and I am closer to zen than I ever was in any church.  Nature isn’t hypocritical, nor is it biased.  The Earth doesn’t care what color I am, nor where I shop, eat, what I read, what I believe; Nature just IS.

Maybe that’s where my funk comes from.  As a Cancer, I’m finely tuned to emotions, the moon, the stars, and the world around me.  I feel Gaia’s pain physically at times.  When I drive through the countryside I grew up and instead of seeing fields of green and gold, unbroken and flourishing, I see derricks, “fracking” in every other plot of earth.  Where I used to be proud of my dietary choices, I now fear them, never knowing what’s truly in the food I’m serving my kids.  Even water is suspect anymore.

I could go on and on about the things that worry my heart lately, but I won’t.  I just needed to get some of it out of my head, because the tumbling around of ideas and thoughts has gotten me down.  If I’ve offended anyone with this post, I am sorry, but I am earnest in my feelings.  It seems as if the answers I’m looking for are just out of reach, the more I research, study, and think the greater my dismay becomes.  I’m almost there, this groovychick will never be satisfied with the easy answer, as my insatiable thirst for truth grows greater by the moment.  Being an Oracle isn’t as easy as it sounds, ya know.

Until next time,


The Land Where Oz is North of Middle Earth: Reflections of a Speculative Cosmographer

I love that map of all the fantasy lands together

A Pilgrim in Narnia

Hogwarts Platform 9 three quartersIf I were to print a business card for what I do as a fantasy writer, in the section called “title” I would put, “Speculative Cosmographer.” Fancy title, eh?

Well, broken down, it really just means fictional world-builder. When I write, as all fantasy writers do, I create a world that is consistent within itself. These “Other Worlds” may have their own languages, beliefs, sciences, social structures, laws, and arts. When the author does this well, as in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-earth, C.S. Lewis’ Narnia, or Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea, the world must rhyme with itself, if you will. It cannot have jarring inconsistencies, or tears in the social or scientific fabric that betray the authenticity of that world. The boundary between that world and our own is clear. Middle-earth has some connection to our world today, but you won’t find it accidentally by taking a wrong turn on…

View original post 562 more words

Pieces of my Heart

In my dreams, you are here with me, and my heart is whole again.  We never have to say goodbye, and each day isn’t another one without you.  Our time doesn’t have a limit, and we know that tomorrow will be the same as today; together.  In my dreams, you don’t see me as a sometimes figure in your world, but as a constant.

The heartache of missing you never subsides, making the days endless, and the nights lonely.  I long to kiss your foreheads before you drift off to dream, and greet you with a smile and a hug each new day.  I wish for the time when the tears aren’t threatening to fall with every thought of you.  Our times together are always bittersweet, as I know it won’t last, and once again I’ll have to let you go, not knowing when you’ll be with me again.

Since the moment you came into my life, you’ve been my sunshine on a cloudy day.  Even when you are miles away, I carry the sound of your voices and the smiles in your eyes in my heart.  Some days, that’s the only way I make it through the pain.  Half of my heart lies in yours, and I wonder when our day will come.  When will we have you home, to stay, not just for a short while?  When will your laughter mix with theirs again, creating the most lovely music I know?  I don’t have the answers to this, only time will reveal that.  Until then, I’ll do as I’ve always done, and hold you here in my soul, until you are once again in my arms.