Been thinking of random talking for a while now, but every time I began to compose a line, other words would cram their way into my consciousness and clamor for my attention.

They’re delightfully demanding that way. ๐Ÿ™‚

But, it seems more flowery thought is quieted at present, so I will attempt a bit of regular relating and processing-accidental or otherwise…

For those wondering about my sweet girl and her dancing feet, she is easing away from her boot and thrilled to twirl again, even on a limited basis.

Though I am proud of and awed by her incredible strength these past weeks, it makes my heart soar to see her taking flight again.

Because this is truly her. Who she was created to be…so very free.

And, honestly, who I always longed to be allowed to be.

But, such frivolity was not my mother’s brand.

Oh, she had a brand, and still has.

But, if you dared to have your own taste? Apart from hers?

Well, then, that was just tacky. Nasty. Stupid.

Ooh-wee! Stinky.

Much how you might sully her precious floors and make them “unsanitary”, so liking the wrong music, movement, literature, movie, TV show was tantamount to sullying her homefront.

And it wasn’t even about age-appropriateness. Actually, very rarely, unless she had a hypocritical urge to shield our eyes from “filth” that was not her pick. ( if it was, then the expletives and nudity were “okay” because it’s a “good story” or “so funny”. Talk about confusing!)

But, as said, that was not as frequent. 

What was was anything she deemed dumb, therefore worth being ragged on and decried as a horror against “intelligent society” any time we so much as expressed an interest.

There was little room afforded to the individual to be, well, an individual.

No encouragement to be something different-or, at least, different from her.

Geezalou.  There is more than one flavor in the world, Ma!!

There’s a boatload of possibilities beyond the sourness you shovelled in us!!

Suck it up, buttercup!…..

Umm…wow. Not where I intended to go. So not. My mom and I do possess a rather complicated relationship even today, but there is also a lot of growing forgiveness as we slowly, carefully pick through painful, cluttered memories in the respective attics of our minds.

See…I didn’t know I was even still angry about this.

Or about anything today. 


Or maybe it comes in part as residuals from last night’s violent movie triggers.

Or frustrations with the business, and as a result, finances.

Or dear, well-meaning mother-in-law trying to prod me back into book tours, which I know could be good for my writing and maybe even mankind ๐Ÿ™„, but really, really sucky for my mental state,๐Ÿ˜ฅ unless I get to control all wheres, whens, whats, and whos. 

Which is ever in doubt with steamrollers in the midst.


Whew. Anyway…guess there could be a few things to stir up some fumes and cause me to suck in a smoggy breath or two of jacked-up past…

Though I am so sick of being sidelined by that crud! Enough.

So…to circle back to the positive…at least, where joy was robbed, new joy appears.

In this case, in the redemptive power of a dreaming ballerina’s flying feet.

And knowing I will give her room to dance as her heart pleases….