. 
Monday, February 28, 2011
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 2
swinging
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Girls Just Want To Have Fun
Taking A Ride
Saturday, February 26, 2011
WALSTIB-Am I a Sellout?
Id like to say no, but sometimes I don't know. WALSTIB stands for
what a long strange trip it's been as any Dead Heads would know. I
used to consider myself 'hippyish' not using that term though,but for
lack of better words.
someone who was free to be them,relaxed,roaming,spiritual,ready to
get up and go at a drop of a dime,rule breaker,trusting and dancing to
the rythym of life and the beat of my heart.
I tried to express that in every aspect of myself. Although i am told
'hippy' is a stateofmind I wore and owned nothing but bellbottoms and
shopped at vintage stores. I listened to music that moved my soul (I
cried when jerry died) and my station wagon was covered in peace signs
and stickers. I had bumperstickers announcing I was a liberal and
'cheech and chong balls' framed my car windows. I have to admit I had
been pulled over many a time by cops profiling me. In 1999 when I
heard they were having a 'woodstock' I quickly bought tickets and
caravanned up to NY living in tents for 4days. I picked up hitchhikers
and hitchhicked myself. I always got to somewhere I was meant to be.
I'm not sure exactly what started the process. Maybe it was
after I had my first daughter,when I could no longer fit into my
bellbottoms and I gave them all away. my husband was probally
thrilled,although lately he talks about them lovingly-probally only
because he misses the person that used to wear those elephants.
or maybe the legandary 'Grocery Grabber' hippie mobile dying was the
start. Or the fact that life's responsibilities multiplied and
priorities changed. It was no longer about me and Stella Blue. My
music replaced by billboard hits, my car isn't covered in stickers,
and there are no bells to my jeans. I look like a sellout a psedohippie
I still have some of the same mindset but I am tense,stressed and
definately not able to just pick up and go. I realize that my true
idenity somehow got lost or maybe just pushed somewhere
Deep inside along the way and has conformed to what our society tells
us it wants.
I keep coming back to the phrase hippie is only a state of mind, and
yes I agree but my mind is clouded by tensions and expectations of
conformity squeltching all unique ideas and 'differences'-how did I
become the sheep? My state of mind wants to become unrobotized and to
become comfortable,like when you recongize an old friend and talk like
you've never been apart.
if my true self can't be dug out It would be a disservice to my
kids. I want them to see what is deep inside me,someone who emits
happiness and energy, not worrying about the petty shit that people
end up worrying about.a person who is mellow,and emits a glowing aura.
Someone who thinks they can become anything.
Sometimes I see little sneek peeks into my old hippie ways like
when I find myself buying tye dyed shirts for the girls, or find
myself drawn to nature yearning to feel connected, or just discovering
writing again. Recently I found myself on phillyburbs going off on
this poor antidemocratic sap's political crap and I thought' wow,
there you are!' 'i know you ' slowly but surely....WALSTIB
what a long strange trip it's been as any Dead Heads would know. I
used to consider myself 'hippyish' not using that term though,but for
lack of better words.
someone who was free to be them,relaxed,roaming,spiritual,ready to
get up and go at a drop of a dime,rule breaker,trusting and dancing to
the rythym of life and the beat of my heart.
I tried to express that in every aspect of myself. Although i am told
'hippy' is a stateofmind I wore and owned nothing but bellbottoms and
shopped at vintage stores. I listened to music that moved my soul (I
cried when jerry died) and my station wagon was covered in peace signs
and stickers. I had bumperstickers announcing I was a liberal and
'cheech and chong balls' framed my car windows. I have to admit I had
been pulled over many a time by cops profiling me. In 1999 when I
heard they were having a 'woodstock' I quickly bought tickets and
caravanned up to NY living in tents for 4days. I picked up hitchhikers
and hitchhicked myself. I always got to somewhere I was meant to be.
I'm not sure exactly what started the process. Maybe it was
after I had my first daughter,when I could no longer fit into my
bellbottoms and I gave them all away. my husband was probally
thrilled,although lately he talks about them lovingly-probally only
because he misses the person that used to wear those elephants.
or maybe the legandary 'Grocery Grabber' hippie mobile dying was the
start. Or the fact that life's responsibilities multiplied and
priorities changed. It was no longer about me and Stella Blue. My
music replaced by billboard hits, my car isn't covered in stickers,
and there are no bells to my jeans. I look like a sellout a psedohippie
I still have some of the same mindset but I am tense,stressed and
definately not able to just pick up and go. I realize that my true
idenity somehow got lost or maybe just pushed somewhere
Deep inside along the way and has conformed to what our society tells
us it wants.
I keep coming back to the phrase hippie is only a state of mind, and
yes I agree but my mind is clouded by tensions and expectations of
conformity squeltching all unique ideas and 'differences'-how did I
become the sheep? My state of mind wants to become unrobotized and to
become comfortable,like when you recongize an old friend and talk like
you've never been apart.
if my true self can't be dug out It would be a disservice to my
kids. I want them to see what is deep inside me,someone who emits
happiness and energy, not worrying about the petty shit that people
end up worrying about.a person who is mellow,and emits a glowing aura.
Someone who thinks they can become anything.
Sometimes I see little sneek peeks into my old hippie ways like
when I find myself buying tye dyed shirts for the girls, or find
myself drawn to nature yearning to feel connected, or just discovering
writing again. Recently I found myself on phillyburbs going off on
this poor antidemocratic sap's political crap and I thought' wow,
there you are!' 'i know you ' slowly but surely....WALSTIB
Friday, February 25, 2011
Where's the Arc?
Where's the Arc?
I knew it was going to rain so I don't know why I woke up annoyed
that it actually was. Maybe I was hoping the forecasters made a
mistake or that some great wind blew the clouds away that had already
made their way in yesterday.
when the blaring alarm made its debut I could hear the rain on the
windows and roof. I did not feel like jumping out of bed ready to
seize the day. More like wanting to pull the covers back over my head.
I was already not looking forward to the busstop let alone getting out
of bed at all!
being an adult we all have responsibilities and being a mom not only
are our children our responsibility but their responsibilties become
ours too. Therefore I had to crawl (not jump) out of bed and get my
daughter ready for school and out to the bus stop.
I had a hard time waking her up although eventually she did jump out
of bed ready to seize the day and I had a pang of jealousy that she
should have the energy right away to take on the day with such gusto
even with the raindrops smearing the window. Ahh to be seven again!
Pretending that the yellow school bus is a giant arc floating down the
rivers which were once roads picking up the kids and.......
somehow I forgot to buy another umbrella, which by the way umbrellas
annoy me and I am afraid of being poked in the eye by one but my
daughter isn't annoyed by them she is annoyed we are without umbrella.
We waited till the last minute when I thought the bus would be
actually In sight and we made a mad dash for the bus stop. And I was
right! Up the road the giant arc was in sight-just in time
I knew it was going to rain so I don't know why I woke up annoyed
that it actually was. Maybe I was hoping the forecasters made a
mistake or that some great wind blew the clouds away that had already
made their way in yesterday.
when the blaring alarm made its debut I could hear the rain on the
windows and roof. I did not feel like jumping out of bed ready to
seize the day. More like wanting to pull the covers back over my head.
I was already not looking forward to the busstop let alone getting out
of bed at all!
being an adult we all have responsibilities and being a mom not only
are our children our responsibility but their responsibilties become
ours too. Therefore I had to crawl (not jump) out of bed and get my
daughter ready for school and out to the bus stop.
I had a hard time waking her up although eventually she did jump out
of bed ready to seize the day and I had a pang of jealousy that she
should have the energy right away to take on the day with such gusto
even with the raindrops smearing the window. Ahh to be seven again!
Pretending that the yellow school bus is a giant arc floating down the
rivers which were once roads picking up the kids and.......
somehow I forgot to buy another umbrella, which by the way umbrellas
annoy me and I am afraid of being poked in the eye by one but my
daughter isn't annoyed by them she is annoyed we are without umbrella.
We waited till the last minute when I thought the bus would be
actually In sight and we made a mad dash for the bus stop. And I was
right! Up the road the giant arc was in sight-just in time
Danielle
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Mount St. Wash
>>Yes it's about the size of a mountain,intimidating the person who
dares try to take it on. It doesn't have any snow caps at the top,nor
tricky cliffs to scale-it is the mountain of laundry-daunting just the
same.
Intimidating it is for it never seems to end-just when I seem to be
conquering it fights back bigger and badder letting you know who is
boss!
dares try to take it on. It doesn't have any snow caps at the top,nor
tricky cliffs to scale-it is the mountain of laundry-daunting just the
same.
Intimidating it is for it never seems to end-just when I seem to be
conquering it fights back bigger and badder letting you know who is
boss!
now as you can imagine this mountain had to start somewhere and not
from plates colliding together either. More like four people's hampers
piled together.
I stuff the mouth of the buliemic monster-filled to capacity whether
it be with towels,muddy work clothes,kid outfits stained with the
juice of the day. It shakes and rattles with such determination.
Spinning spinning almost as out of control as the mountain itself.
Then the wet mess is struggled with until I can get it all in the
dryer with the door shut. The heatmiser dries the pieces of mountain-
the molten rocks that are spewed back into another type of towering
intimidation left to sort and fold,sort and fold.
And somehow somehow turning back the mt st wash looms in the distance-
bigger than before...
Danielle
Thursday with GiGi
Kylie is excited to see her greatgrandmom
A healthy breakfast before yoga
The Senior Center For Yoga
the center is in Doylestown and the seniors
love when Kylie and Sam come for
a visit!
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