cowgirl boots hit the sidewalk
in a rhythmic fall
dog tags jingle too
fallen leaves crunch
beneath our feet
traffic sounds are few
listenin’ to an October song
on our evenin’ stroll
just me and my dog
Blue
Written in my head as Blue and I were walkin’ after dark on October 9, 2012. Typed in e-ink the next mornin’. ~ Janean
Home for the night.
Wearin’ fuzzy slippers.
Cookin’ frozen pizza for two middle school boys.
(My oldest son and his friend from next door.)
They are playin’ video games in the basement.
My youngest son is right there with them.
Always.
Home.
October 5, 2012
NOTE: This is my 600th Tumblr post. Something had to be. Figured it might as well be about family, food and home. Those three things are all tangled up together – at least for me.
In one of the bedtime story collections my children have from long ago was this prayer, “I see the moon and the moon sees me. God bless the moon and God bless me.” I often think of it, and whisper it aloud, especially when the moon is glowing big and bright, sometimes by day, but usually at night. ~ Janean
September 30, 2012
”I’m creating. Even with one thing after another coming at me. Yesterday was a doozy but I didn’t let it stop me. I kept creating.” ~Janean Baird
Imagine my surprise to find myself quoted by a friend. It’s happened a few times now, each time it makes me grin and feel a little more like a “real” writer. I’m not sure when I’ll lose the quote marks. For I’m still getting used to saying aloud, “I am an artist and a writer.” I am, you know. Both. ~ Janean
August 28, 2012
My idea of house keeping is to have the big dog with the muddy paws run through the dew wet grass before he comes inside of a morning. Martha Stewart doesn’t live here. ~ Janean
I ran barefoot
through the backyard
this morning
the grass still damp
from dew
right on through the neighbor’s too
I am not a runner
twas quite the sight to see
my arms waving in the air
and that big dog Blue following me
I had to get his attention
and distract him
from the scent of squirrel
he slipped his collar
ran off leash
faster than we knew
my wild pup tasted freedom
(and rather liked the flavor)
I bounded back to our yard
winded and wheezing
eyes on that running dog
when they saw my husband
standing straight and tall
I’d left the sliding door open
pup and I were nowhere to be found
then he sees us round the corner
sure
the dog goes to him when called
he holds the pup
I reattach his collar
add his blue leash too
back inside we file
one, two, three
man, dog and me
August 15, 2012
sometimes I just want to be quiet
really, I do
no television talking
or video games blaring
no chatterboxing me
in the room
sometimes I just want to answer
with a serene smile
or a face streaked with silent tears
shhhh, no talking
it’s just too much
let’s simply be
for awhile
Dear Self,
Brevity.
Work on it.
Love,
Me
I’ve always been a chatterbox. Since I was a child. At least when I write my mouth isn’t moving. Though I can still simultaneously “step in it”, and put my foot in my mouth, which tastes like sh*t. I am not feeling very bloggerific today, I am a grouchy, surly mess.
I love to write. I love it. It sets me free. It feels so good To Just Say It.
A book IS a dream of mine. More than one, as any author/Writer worth his/her salt would dream for. We shall see. Believe me I’ll shout about it from all over when that day comes. My mother, sister and aunt, are three of my champions, who encourage me to Keep Going and not stop. That I’m on to something.
I am not writing today though. Today I am making art.
~ Janean
© 2011 Turquoise Tangles
he touches me
gently
sweetly
lovingly
close enough
at bedtime
to share my pillow
hand in my hair
arms around me
sitting close
on the couch
hand in mine
as we walk outside
or listen
side by side
in church
wiping my tears
as they fall silently
sometimes
my youngest son
what a good man
he will grow to be
loving
thoughtful
insightful
a poet himself
who knows already
how to
heal a hurting heart
soothe frazzled nerves
and show love
with small touches
that mean the world
in the moment
and in the memories
the power of touch
© 2011 Turquoise Tangles
Turquoise Tangles 