the sun is shining
I’ve found my smile
hopefully the tears have stopped
for awhile
November 8, 2012
the sun is shining
I’ve found my smile
hopefully the tears have stopped
for awhile
November 8, 2012
just love me
and I’ll love you
it’s so simple
really

“tickled pink”
this morning’s pink cloud sunrise
though this photo doesn’t do it justice
sometimes I long for an unobstructed Eastern view
with no trees, leaves or houses in the way
maybe
maybe someday
~ Janean
November 5, 2012
pink clouds in the sunrise
it’s going to be a good day
they always make me smile
that’s how I know
‘cause here I stand
under morning’s glow
smiling up at the sky
and sighing happy sighs
because of the pink cloud sunrise
and perhaps a few things more
smiling serenely to myself
and sighing happy sighs galore
November 5, 2012
My husband wrote a poem with, “damn it” in it.
Reading those two little words made me grin.
For in the midst of his poem about hurt, tumult, brokenness and pain it was after I read the, “damn it”, that I knew we’d be OK.
Love is stronger than all the rest.
Love heals, soothes, mends and forms a safe haven.
Love is our shelter in the midst of the most awful of storms.
Besides all that, I love him too…
damn it.

The oven timer beeped, “done” at 8:30a.m.
I asked my youngest son, as he was quietly sitting nearby, to tell his big brother, “The cinnamon rolls are ready, it’s time for him to save his game, power down and come upstairs to eat.”
Next thing I knew the basement door was flung open, and that littlest boy used a great big voice to shout, “Get your butt up here! Breakfast is ready!”
I gotta admit, his big brother listened and I laughed aloud in reply.
I was still chuckling and smiling as I handed ‘em each a plateful of iced, cinnamon goodness, baked from a refrigerated Pillsbury tube.
Good morning.
May your day be A Good One.
I’m smiling here, still charmed by my youngest son’s cut to the chase translation.
~ Janean
November 4, 2012
fall back
into my strength
lean on mefall back
into my waiting arms
I will hold youfall back
into memories
of times gone by
and rememberfall back
on family and friends
when darkness
is all you can seefall back
into the love and light
that encircles youfall back
to be propped up
…
I wrote this poem, “fall back” a year ago. Same thoughts still apply. It’s been a helluva year. Never woulda made it through without the hugs, friendships, faith and love that abounds. ~ Janean
November 3, 2012
Turquoise Tangles: fall back
if I blogged anonymous
you might meet the real me
I’d be a little more open
a little more carefree
if I blogged anonymous
your eyebrows might go up
there’d be more secrets told
and less talk about my pup
if I blogged anonymous
it might work for awhile
till someone got suspicious
and figured it out with a smile
if I blogged anonymous
there might be a lot more tears
mine and many others
as I reveal my fears
if I blogged anonymous
it might help me let things go
instead I write ‘em in a journal
or email close friends who know
November 2, 2012

My favorite part of today’s Art Club, with 16 students in 3rd-5th grade, was hearing one girl say on her way out the door, “I wish Art Club could be every week.” Today they drew continuous line self portraits with a black felt tip marker. No erasing was possible. Then they added color with washable Crayola markers. I made one too. *happy sigh* Now it’s time to store their artwork in a portfolio, clean up the scattered supplies, move tables and chairs, and finally head home. ~ Janean
“you’re on my optic nerve”
by Janean M. Baird
9” x 12”
marker
November 1, 2012
We were canoodling when the phone rang, cutting off the music we were dancin’ to.
It was my mother saying, “I’m on my way.”
He said, “I don’t want to see your tears.”
I replied, “Then don’t look.”
There’s no time to kiss them away.
Gotta get my composure, blow my nose and grab my sunglasses to walk the dog.
Our sweet pup, Blue.
Met mom on the sidewalk.
Chit chatted and smiled sorta bright.
Held his hand when I came back in.
Assured him it was the tenderness that did me in.
I’m a girl.
It’s how I’m packaged.
Sometimes they are happy tears.
November 1, 2012