Homeless Day 27…I’m Still Alive…

So sorry for the lack of updates, but being in survival mode leaves little time for writing.

I should update or delete my last post as I have managed to keep the motel room so far. (I apologize for making ya’ll worry) I was packing my car and preparing ready to head out last Thursday, when I suddenly remembered that I might be able to pay for a couple of days at a time rather than an entire week, and could get the reduced weekly rate,  so that is what I have done so far. Not to get too technical on the cash issue, but I can pay for today and tomorrow, and once again, I will be at that “having to leave here” point.

I really wish I could tell you that I have a plan, but I don’t. Nothing on the job front yet, and the “available” services in this area are basically non-existent. I was going to try again to hold cash and leave tomorrow, until I saw the weather report. The temp is going to be around 99 with heat indices into the triple digits, so not a good time to get into my car without a plan. I will make phone calls all day tomorrow to various shelters etc. up in the Savannah area…I just pray there is someplace for me to go. Again, I have noticed that there are much more resources and jobs in that area, so…as much as I would love to stay here, I guess I may end up there. Who knows? Are there still real hippie communes anywhere? Oh…and if I never have to eat another saltine cracker I would not be displeased.

I wonder if I can make any money sitting on the beach playing my recorder? LOL…probably not. With all the thoughts that are running through my head…I wish I could get more of them down here, but they refuse to come. Maybe later. Love, hugs and peace to all of you. I love you!


“Remember Something that Made You Feel Good”…

My therapy appointment last week was tough to say the least. I sat in the chair shaking and trying to spill my guts about all the fear I was feeling…Was I going to be homeless, lose my dogs, starve? I had no idea.

My therapist finally said to me, “I want you to remember a time when you felt good and tell me about it.” I didn’t have to think for long..I said, “Living at my grandparents house, between the ages of 10 and 12, was the best time of my life. The only truly carefree days I have ever known.”

I began the story with the night we finally broke free from my father.

My brother’s used to wait by their bedroom window and yell down the stairs to Mom, letting her know that Dad was home and telling her to get on the couch, pretend she was asleep. Maybe he wouldn’t beat her. It didn’t work that night. My sister and I crawled into the bottom bunk together, holding pillows over our heads so we wouldn’t hear. We heard. I don’t know what came over me, but at some point I found myself peeking through the small opening between the stairs and top floor, just in time to see my father raise his fist. I watched as my mother went airborne and landed on the other side of the room. I don’t remember going downstairs. I must have been crazy. The next thing I recall is standing between my parents, Mom on the floor behind me, Dad standing in front of me looking so imposing and threatening in his uniform. As Mom would tell it to me years later, I stood all of 3 feet tall, hands on my hips, my little knees shaking, yelled at my father to just go to bed! I don’t remember much more of that night. My brother woke my sister and I later on and said, “Come on…we’re going to Grammy and Papa’s house.”

Sweetest words I ever heard. I loved it at their house. I remembered waking up in the bedroom with the slanted ceiling, the scent of summer coming in the windows,the breeze lifting the white curtains with the little puff balls on them. The smell of those sheets was like a warm hug, not a scent you get from dryer sheets, but from bleach, bluing and fresh air. Reaching my hand up behind me and running my fingers around the curly cues of the white wrought iron. I was safe. I was HOME.

The sound of glass milk bottles rattling as the milk man made his delivery.

Going downstairs in the morning, Grammy at the kitchen table, the sunlight falling across the linoleum floor, warming my feet. I’d get my bowl of cereal and stand by the door, the smell of warming wood and metal screens. It was an old screen door with glass panes for winter, screens for summer, and a spring at the top that made it slam shut when we let it go, a sound that still soothes me to this day.

I couldn’t recall my mother being around much then. She was either in and out of psychiatric facilities or…I don’t know, but it didn’t matter. I only know I was happy. I had a chance, for a while, to just be a kid.

Playing, playing, playing. That was my world. The old pump organ in the garage, climbing over boxes to get to it so I could sit and pump the petals, making nothing even close to music, but it was fun. Making leaf “houses” with my sister, which were basically just an outline in leaves..We would make rooms and doors and spend hours with our dolls and dishes playing house. We used our imaginations back then…remember? Skating on the “pond” which was really just a swamp. My brothers and a neighbor placing a barrel in the water during the summer so that they could jump it on skates in the winter, and watching as the neighbor kid jumped it and went through the ice on the other side. That kid just disappeared, and we laughed so hard.

Sledding down the hill at the cemetery out onto the frozen pond. My little brother was buried at the top of that hill. The time my best friend A. and I took the small dinghy out on the “pond” during a dry summer and getting stuck in the muck, having to be rescued by her older brother.

Behind A’s house was a large tree that had a rope swing and a tree house that the boys had built. I loved that swing, though the wooden slats that were nailed on as “steps” were a bit scary. One time, A. our other friend L. and I were out there swinging. It was my turn. I climbed the steps carefully, slid myself across the branch, A. swung the rope until I caught it. I place my foot in the loop at the bottom of the rope, scooted to the edge of the branch, and launched. I left the branch and stopped short about a foot or two, in midair….my underpants had gotten caught on a nail that was sticking out of the branch! I hung there screaming, wondering how long I could hold onto the rope as A. and L. stood 14 feet below me, laughing their butts off. Finally, L. scurried up the tree, slid across and somehow managed to pull me back to the branch. I pulled myself together and launched again…Oh, what a feeling it was! That first few seconds of falling until the rope snapped taut and I sailed through the air…laughing.

What a world it was. I really need to put together a readable story here. It was such a blessed time in my life, so many things to recall. Maybe I will…

A quick update on our situation. Hubby is finally going to do a roofing job on Tuesday. We still don’t have rent, but I’m hoping the landlord will give us time. The other bills have all come in, but will just have to wait. I am trying each day to just breathe, just BE. It will all be okay…somehow. Please keep us in prayer. Hugs

Grammy Wood


Four Months, 341 Followers, Freakin’ Amazing!

I began this blog back in October with no real idea what I was going to do with it and no idea how much this little spot in cyberspace would add to my life.

I have “met” some of the most amazing people here. I’ve been able to experience so many forms of artistic expression in writing, photography, poetry, spirituality and so much more. I’ve also realized how easy it is to become close with people I have never been in the same room with. I have been so blessed by the caring and compassionate comments and actions of the  friends I have made here on WordPress. To realize that over 300 people would want to read what I write, even when all I write is day-to-day stuff, is just stunning.

The encouragement and feedback I have received on both my writing and photography has opened up a whole new world of possibilities for me, one I would never have thought I wanted for myself…for all of this…I say, “Thank You!”

I can not possibly mention all who have had an effect on my life, but I must mention a few people who have truly touched me either through their writing or through phone conversations and emails have come to be really good friends…

Joy over at Bleeding my Emotions has been such a sweet and devoted follower and a good friend.

Mark  was my first taste of true blogger friendship when he went above and beyond to rescue my blanket from a motel in Syracuse NY. You can read about that here.

Okay…this is too hard..there are too many wonderful people and blogs I follow, and I would feel bad if someone felt left out. All of you mean so much to me, and I wish I had the time and patience to include every one of you! The best way to do this is to ask you to check out the list on my page and read some of these amazing blogs!







…and so many more! I am grateful and humbled by all of my followers. Love, Peace, and Hugs!

Shrimp Boat

Shrimp Boat

Early Dawn at Massengale Beach

"The Pier"

“The Pier”


Sydney Lanier Bridge

Sydney Lanier Bridge

Drive By “Shoulding”

I have a confession to make. I am addicted to watching “Sex and the City” episodes. My husband bought me the entire collection for Valentine’s Day a couple of years ago, and I have worn it out.

In one episode titled “Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda”, Carrie Bradshaw poses a question at the end of one of her newspaper column…”Why are We “shoulding” all over ourselves?”

Maybe I am the only one who can relate to this question on a daily basis, but have you ever found yourself saying, ” I should…(fill in the blank)?”

Today for example. I started with my normal routine, feed dogs, make tea, read blogs, and as with many other days, I started with the “I should’s.” I should go out, I should go shoot some photographs, I should go see that movie I wanted to see, I should scrub my floors, I should do some work on my car…and it goes on and on.

Why is it so difficult for me not to feel guilty about just doing what I want to do, instead of what I think I should be doing? I know that as a homemaker my choices for my day are much less regimented than most folks, and this also makes me feel guilty. Why all the guilt? Why do I feel I should be doing more..always more than I am actually doing?

I think we put so much pressure on ourselves to appear a certain way in society. When women find out I am “just a homemaker”, I feel I have to justify it, defend myself. Why? Do they think I should be doing something more now that I am not raising children, or do I just think that is what they feel? Most importantly, why do I care what they think?

This is what I call a “drive-by shoulding.” It really has nothing to do with me or my life. It has to do with preconceived ideas of what constitutes a “full” life, a driven life, an accomplished life.

Yes, I lead a small life. I am a throwback to the 50s. I cook, clean, shop, pay the bills while hubby is on the road working. Do I wish it was more sometimes? Yes, there are days I wish I had more variety in my life, more activity, but I can choose to increase those things if I want to, but is it a true desire on my part, or is it just another way of “shoulding” on myself? Do I feel I should be doing more? Am I not valuable enough if this is all I ever do?

How much of what I want in life is led by true inner desire, and how much is based on expectation of others and society? I honestly don’t know, but in the meantime…I am going to take my dinner out of the oven, go sit comfortably in my bedroom and watch some more “Sex and the City” episodes. Maybe I’ll go see that movie tomorrow, or maybe not. Who cares?

Monday, Monday…

Not having a job outside of the home makes weekends just something that others look forward to.  A day is a day to me. Time is a made up concept that puts so much stress on us, yes it’s “necessary” to make it to work, or the doctor’s on time, but other than that, this is the only moment that really exists, outside of time as we perceive it.

Now that I’ve rambled on about nothing of substance, I am off to eat the lovely piece of fish I picked up earlier. I am taking Dr. Wayne Dyer into bed with me, and curl up with him. This moment is fine. I have all that I need for this day and this moment.

All the rest will be whatever the universe decides, with or without my help.

It is sunny, 64 degrees out, the dogs are here to keep me company. I will center myself, meditate, breathe…BE.

Have a wonderful day everyone. Have I told you I love you all so much? Well, I do.

Sunrise and Shadows

Sunrise and Shadows

Wrong Thinking, Our Downfall

I love this blogger’s philosophy, thoughts and words. Need an uplifting post today? Check it out!

Source of Inspiration

dark thoughts1

Wrong thinking
creates misery
for our thoughts
have unimagined
power. We think
something negative
or unkind and that
thought goes out
attracting like
energies, affecting
all it touches. Send
loving thoughts
to those who harm
to help them change
for your dark thoughts
only feed their darkness.
Never forget that what
you send out in thoughts
and deeds always returns.

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Cleaning House

I am cleaning house today.

No, not my home, which could use a day of cleaning, but I’m referring to myself.

I am cleaning out the “junk” inside of me and outside of me. This included deactivating my Facebook account. It will only be activated once a week or so to check on my kids and a couple of good friends. I originally signed up for it to stay connected with my kids, and then it went the usual route. Connecting with old friends, people who I thought were friends, old classmates etc. Then it was on to Facebook games, oh such a waste of time. Lately I find when logging on there, that it is just so much junk. The same posts over and over, the same drama, the same whiners. Yes, there are family members and friends I want to stay connected with, but it will have to be through another source.

I am to the point that I want nothing in my life that does not nourish my mind, my body and my soul. The negative must be eliminated in whatever form it may come.

Yes, Facebook is just one “closet” of my housecleaning, but I am working on many other rooms also. What I watch on television, what I listen to, and the people I allow into my “house” shall be only positive. All of these must feed my spirit, my soul, my mind and my heart. This does not mean that everyone must be happy all the time to be in my life, but the constantly negative, constantly feeding off of me people, those who give nothing back are those who must be kept at a distance or removed all together. It is necessary for my own health.

Dusty cobwebs of regret, doubt, fear, anxiety and all the rest will be swept out and replaced by clean, uplifting, and soothing thoughts, sounds, and sights. Drama will only be found in entertainment form, if I so choose. Hidden toxins can destroy the soul.

All that we expose ourselves to will cling to us in the most insidious form if we are not careful. What may seem innocent and harmless can be like dripping water on a mountainside…It may not seem like much, but it can eventually leave a hole in the hard, strong rock.

Has it taken over five decades to come to all this “wisdom”? No, it has accumulated bit by bit over all these years. Now it is time for me to take action, to work toward the creation of the life I envision for myself, and it starts by cleaning out what doesn’t work.

It’s time to take up my dust rag and broom, open the windows to air out the bad…and begin creating.

What might you want to clean out of your “house”?

I had to ask myself a few questions:

*What am I getting out of this?

*Is it adding to my life, or taking away from it?

*Does it make me feel uplifted or does it just make me sad, tick me off, or steal time?

*Is it filling me or draining me?

These questions do not just apply to Facebook. They can apply to any situation, any habit, any person we allow into our realm, our “home” of self. And yes, I could ask many others, but you get the point. I am going to watch the rest of this travel program on PBS, and then maybe read for a while…or maybe…just nap. I will listen and do whatever my body, my mind, and my soul need tonight.

"Surf Wading"

“Surf Wading”

Buddhist Rule About Worrying

Such great advice and necessary! Love her posts so much.

Happy Holly Project

The truth is, I used to worry. A lot.

So much so that in college I heard a quote that hit me between the eyes.

Worry is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it doesn’t get you anywhere.

I thought at the time it sounded like a good idea. But they failed to tell me exactly how to do that.

It took until I was about forty years old … and a ton of counseling … to understand that what others thought about me or said about me didn’t matter. And that what I had been mostly worrying about had much more to do with that than any life threatening situations.

Those came later.

Not that I don’t still worry. I do. Just not about anything minor.

Someone described it to me as “wearing the world like a loose garment”. So it is there, it…

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Always Misunderstood…

If you have not worn another person’s shoes don’t try to decide for yourself how good or bad they fit. You honestly can’t know what another person is going through…ever. Looks can be so deceiving. I’m so tired of trying to explain to others something that they can never truly know anyway, because sometimes…there just aren’t enough words.