I Dream of Lilac Time

This morning as Blue and I walked through the park I savored the scent of the lilacs. Their fragrance reminded me of a long ago art fair conversation, with a painting woman who has the same first name as mine. She told me she was named for the song, “Jeannine, I Dream of Lilac Time.” I found it years ago to listen to, but had forgotten. Rediscovered it today on YouTube, and listened again with a smile this morn. Ah yes. It’s lilac time.

I Dream of Lilac Time

Western Wisdom

I’m in the midst of typesettin’ two more of my grandfather’s Western Tales. Yesterday I caught myself readin’ instead of movin’ fast, flowin’ type, applyin’ style sheets, and fixin’ up his wonderful words for bein’ self published and bound into yet another family and friends book. Perhaps his last, as at 97, we know his body is wearin’ out.
Certain phrases and plot twist moments, keep jumping off my computer screen as I work, that make me grin and guffaw. Then there are others that make my heart squeeze in empathy.
The line of dialogue speaking to me right now is after the sheriff received a letter from concerned parents, asking after their hastily married off daughter who was sent away, “in trouble.” Instead of replying that she’d had her baby, and a few days later her worthless, no good varmint, rat of a husband was dead – murdered – Sheriff Wells simply said where they could reach their daughter. His mentor, John Wade, replied after readin’ the communique in progress, “Good shot. Let her tell her own story.”
Indeed. Yes. The other bit of advice I keep readin’ is to keep your head up high, no matter what the circumstances in your life. Lots of horse talk too. How I love that!
I’m completely charmed by my grandfather’s writing. Stories. Songs. Poetry. I have been since childhood. It’s more poignant now. Readin’ with a woman’s heart.
He’s a marvel. Still alive and kickin’, atop a bluff overlookin’ the mighty Mississippi River where he’s lived since he was nine months old, other than those years he was needed to serve his country in WWII. He began writing stories while recovering from night patrol injuries in a hospital in England. The Red Cross gave him paper. He mailed the stories home. All because he’d read everything he could get his hands on, and figured he could do as well or better. Once he started writing, he never stopped. That is a lesson for me, and all the aspiring authors I know. Writers write. A lot.
~ Janean Marie Thompson Baird

April 10, 2013
Quote from, “The Invincible Three” by Erwin A. Thompson.

right now

I’m not this strong
I’m just a human woman
all kinds o’weak
longing and wanting
for things that cannot be
magic
pixie dust
fairy tales
escape from my reality
but this is my life
it’s happening right now
where I stand
in my cowgirl boots
I wear ‘em for courage
needing every scrap
more than anyone knows
I might still wish upon a star
as artist, poet, daydreamers
are apt to do
my heart still whispers,
“Dreams do come true.”
my head replies,
“The time is now. Get busy!”
my gut jangles and tangles
tossed between head and heart
trying to find alignment
head-heart-gut
I know I have it
when my insides
are all smoothed out
I’m not this strong
just breaking time down
into manageable chunks
living life
one day at a time
that’s all I can do
right now

March 22, 2013

carefully

I’m trying to be still and know that He is God, from the Psalms.
I am trying to Trust and Fear Not.
It is hard.
Faith is believing in things that cannot be seen.
Love is the biggest of all.
I am a Hope Full woman.
I’m also held together really carefully on the inside right now.
Love,
Janean

written Monday, March 18, 2013

On Friday at the post office, I thought of my Grandma Thompson as I selected several sheets of “pretty stamps.” I chose Rosa Parks. Along the side reads in great big block letters, “COURAGE.” Quiet, strong, steady, resilient, tough, unwavering, standing tall, because she knew she was right, woman kind o’courage. Best of all, other than that initial confrontation, she didn’t stand alone.
~ Janean

written Saturday, March 16, 2013
posted Monday, March 18, 2013

spring o’hope

damp sidewalk
from nighttime rain
brisk chill in the air
gray sky remains
no color
and yet
the birds are singing
trilling from the trees
beautiful
joyful
hopeful
birdsong fills me up
I smile broadly
and I mean it
from deep inside
my gut
I am a hopeful woman
for there is beauty
all around
hope springs eternal
like the songs
of those springtime birds

March 18, 2013

a l’il luck

in this moment
I’m all kinds o’weepy
still wearing my fleece pajamas
with peacock adorned rain boots
(of course)
I don’t care about societal rules
pajamas smajamas, I’m not nude
just leaving the grocery store
where I bought a shamrock plant
figured I could use a l’il luck
hoping for the good kind
years ago, more than 20
my mom gave me shamrocks
for my college dorm room
that’d be four of them
‘cause a green thumb is not my gift
I’d forgotten all about ‘em
until they recently caught my eye
plant after plant
set along a deep window edge
waiting to catch sunlight
I mentioned them aloud
walking down the window lined hall
following the kind woman
one of many helping me through
she casually replied
“They are mine.”
Shamrocks
for luck
‘tis their month you know
March and all
with the fun of St. Patrick’s Day
less than a week away
soon

March 11, 2013

Happy Chocolate Day!

I admit to a bit o’chocolate over indulgence today…
– chocolate cake batter licked from beaters, spatula and bowl
– 2 squares Ghirardelli dark (before lunch)
– 6 thin mints (frozen, how I like ‘em best after lunch)
That’s just as of 1:01p.m.
They day is still young!
I sorta wonder…what’ll be next?!
Probably chocolate icing straight from the store bought can…that is, if I were a bettin’ woman.

February 14, 2013
a.k.a. Valentine’s Day

false alarm

Wait. I poured a mug o’coffee and now the rest is draining! YES! My day is looking brighter ‘cause caffeine is gonna hit my weary system. Breathing a BIG sigh o’relief. Please resume your regular programming…just a minor little overreaction. Me?! Ms. Short Fuse?! Yeah. It happens. Now, for that first sip of magical java brew to make it all better…or at least kick start me toward gettin’ ready for Sunday mornin’ church. Carry on and have a fab-u-lous day! Happy kitchen dancin’ here ‘cause my coffee pot works! ~ Janean

January 27, 2013
8:40am

leakin’ salt water

everything is making me cry today
gonna unplug
^ from the woman who totally sucks at it
solitude and quiet would be lovely
but they aren’t layered into the schedule
things to do
places to go
people to see, love, hug and care for
one big ole dog and striped cat too
so I will go and do
but I can’t read words today
not on Facebook
not on Caring Bridge
not on Twitter or Tumblr either
everything is making me cry today

December 6, 2012