Day 4 writing challenge

Sometimes people need to get something off their mind and just spill it all out there. Those moments are referred to as dramatic monologues. Writing them can be intimidating to some and a lot of fun to others. I thought writing a stream of conscious monologue would be interesting since I’m not really in a venting mood today.

In case you didn’t know there are several interesting examples of monologues if you want to explore more about them. Alan Allen by Irene Zahava and Mrs. Saunders Writes Her Name to the World by Lynne Sharon Schwartz.

I decided to try my own version of Writing My Name to the World.

Lyndalee, that’s how I was taught to spell my name but as an adult I saw my birth certificate and I actually have two first names. Old habits die hard, I still write it as one word unless I am signing a legal document than I make the conscious effort. Lee would have been a great middle name but instead I was blessed with my grandmother’s name, not one both. Irene, my father’s mother’s first name and my mother’s mother’s middle name. Irene isn’t an awful name until some one sings you too many times Good night, Irene, Good night Irene I’ll see you in you in my dreams. It got to be obnoxious after a while especially since they knew how creepy it made me feel. This person should never imply seeing me in his dreams but then he lived up to his monster personna.

I didn’t find either of them to be the worst names given a child but if you add in the last name. My maiden name was difficult to pronounce and people continuously slaughtered it. The teasing by my peers was hurtful. But then when I decided to take their power away by only signing with my initials. My initials spelled LIP, that gave others the opportunity for snarky comments. Here’s comes LIP, she’s always got an opinion.

So when married I didn’t think twice about ditching the maiden name but some things don’t change people keep pushing the ones they already know trigger reactions like singing Irene. New people would inquire if I was actually giving them my first name and middle name when filling out documents. We don’t need your middle name. Once I explained then the comment followed. Who gives nobody’s two first names? Excuse, I’m not a nobody.

I decided to change the whole picture as I reestablished myself after divorce my I just go by Lyn and sign my full first name only when necessary. I don’t bother to share middle name anymore. I remember reading this quote “I’m not my name. My name is something I wear, like a shirt. It gets worn. I outgrow it, I change it.”-Jerry Spinelli

And I’ve learned it ain’t what they call me. What really matters now is what I’ll answer to.

Story-a-day with Julie Duffy day 7


Write a story that doesn’t use unhappiness as its narrative catalyst. That is to say, write a happy story, one that is textured, interesting, not overly sentimental, but that is at its core, a happy story, however, you choose to imagine that.

Macavity sprang from the floor to the back of the couch and on up to the shelf overlooking the landing. He batted the crystal heart suncatcher and then tried to capture the light reflections on the wall. His gleaming yellow eyes wide open with the thinnest black lines were more stunning to me then the heart’s glass center. He became distraught when the reflection vanished with his body movement. He spun his head in every direction seeking the vanished colorful prisms

He meowed in protest and then leapt to my chair. I took advantage of the moment and snuggled with Macavity. He nestled in briefly but then noticed the light reflecting on the wall again. He sprung back to the shelf in pursuit of the mysterious light.

If only I had his abundant energy.


Selling your home isn’t for the weak of heart part 10 and writing challenge day 4

A woman picked up the radon test this afternoon. She says the home inspector will have the report and it could be six days before the report is finalized. This inspector doesn’t typically take this long but it is what it is. This waiting is annoying especially if the buyer decides to withdraw her offer because we’ll have to go through all of this crap again. Keep your fingers crossed.

Last night, I hosted a pre-graduation party for a great friend of ours. When we initially met him, he always ordered lemonade. We all thought he was underage but he wasn’t. He really enjoyed lemonade. So we did lemon-themed gag gifts. It was a memorable evening, that I’m sure none of us will forget.

Unfortunately, I overcooked again so we have lots of leftovers.

Writing challenge:

I’m doing the Julie Duffy story-a day challenge in addition to my personal one. I really want to get myself back on track by writing everyday. It’s easy to get caught up in the other crap.

Macavity and I have spent quality time together at the card table. I didn’t fold it after last night. I decided to do another tarot reading and then write there. He kept me company at first by watching and then snoozing. I don’t get it three car beds, the couch, our bed and he slept on the table.

Now I’m writing and he’s playing a mouse game on the iPad He does enjoy electronics. When he gets tired of the game he’ll watch the wildlife dvd. I think he misses Yeatsie.

There was a small yellow tabby in the corner cage with gold eyes in the pet store alone. Two other cages had black cats, one with white paws and the other with a white spot on his chest. They were very timid when I went to pat them unlike the yellow tabby. He bit my hand. I knew then he had spunk and I like that. He’s go personality. He came home with us a few days later. I would have taken him that day but the shelter was so slower than death processing his adoption. His shelter name was Zak, he became Macavity in our family.

DAY 3 Writing Challenge

Vic and I decided to enjoy a mid-afternoon siesta after a very long week. Macavity hopped up and snuggled against my leg but when I woke he had migrated to the center of the bed. I laughed because he was crosswise on the bed just like sleeping with a toddler. I’ve taken naps with my children and my grandchildren. They always ended up the wrong direction.

Macavity was sleeping so soundly I was able to take his picture and to slip out of bed for a restroom visit. He never even stirred when I returned to bed. I think this past week was exhausting to him as well.

After forty eight hours straight the wind finally calmed down. I think that also impacted our sleep more than realized. Macavity didn’t sleep in his usual spot by the window because the howling was crazy loud. I know it woke me quite a few times too!

Beltane Blessings to you and yours. Hope you enjoy !

A story a day x 30

Was going to wait until May 1st but then I asked myself why was I procrastinating Writing doesn’t need a calendar, it’s simply doing. So here goes it….

Tentative working title. The World Through Her Eyes. I see this as coming together similar to my poem Age in Lyn’s Eyes.

The girl used to be averse to confrontation but overtime learned the hard way that allowing others to be condescending and at times arrogant made her feel uncomfortable. But she tried to look at the bigger picture it’s better for all to ignore it. But that changed when she finally decided to stand up for herself by saying no more.

Initially, people chuckled and thought she’s just being grumpy or she’ll get over it. Dismissing her stance was easier than looking at themselves in the mirror and asking do I really come across that way. It’s got to be the girl, because people all like me. Everyone knows I’m popular and I wouldn’t ever treat anyone poorly. But the girl knew differently. Actions and conversations have demonstrated otherwise.

The girl doesn’t base friendships or relationships on what purpose another has to offer. Her interactions with people are based solely on common interests or goals. This outlook has served her well since she stopped being afraid to speak her mind. Lesson learned, one is a doormat to others if allowed. The people in her life that chose to look the other way because they’re in their safe conflict a

verse space will miss the girl. Or maybe they won’t but the girl has reached what she feels is enough.

217 words, that was easier than I expected.

Selling your home isn’t for the weak of heart, and the day’s plan.

I made a bacon, {saved 4 strips from last night’s BLT’s) pepper, fresh picked basil frittata topped with Mexican cheese to begin this day. The protein was great, so tasty. Added bonus, breakfast is already made for tomorrow. Woohoo.

The inspector for proof of occupancy came today. Almost made it through unscathed, we need to change one of our outlets to a gfi because it’s within six feet of our sink. Thankfully, he doesn’t charge to come back and check once it’s done. This worrying about cost involved is stressful. So looking forward to getting out of this money pit. Still no communication from the buyer’s realtor after the other inspector’s report.

Using zoom last night had some quirks initially but hopefully we have it all ironed out for next weeks writer’s meeting. Attendance was good and hopefully it will continue growing with additional interest. The format works well. Initially, I hated the online but I will say hanging out in my jams does have advantages. There’s also another factor too, once I’m in Vegas this will be my connection. Or maybe it will be time to walk away. Let someone else deal with the stress of micro-managers and people who pointedly make others uncomfortable. Lots of decisions.

I went through some more magazines, recycled them. Trash day was today and I filled it to the brim. This tossing and giving away isn’t as painful as it was. Though, I will say selling things on facebook marketplace is a total frigging waste of time. We have this large safe. I put it on there. I’ve gotten more hit on messages than any serious inquiries about the safe. It’s clear people are obnoxious. I wouldn’t waste someone’s time with stupid messages but apparently that’s not true of others.

I feel bad for Macavity, Vic grabbed the vacuum and he vanished. Poor baby connects vacuum with cat carrier. One of my criteria’s on our next place is minimal rugs. He doesn’t mind the broom or dust mop.

Olyvia, my granddaughter, and her competition dance team received highest overall score. Way to go girls! They have another competition this Saturday at 11:30am. I am so looking forward to being able to see her team compete once we’re there. She’s been dancing since she was two. Oh my, the girls were so adorable. They laid hula-hoops on the floor so they knew where to be. The end of the year recital is June 5th, I’m hoping we’ll be there in time.

A good shot of whiskey would have tasted pretty good a couple times this week but I know how easily I could slide back to my old crutch. I know I can’t drink all the stress away anymore than I could drink away an unhappy marriage. Like Justin and Chris, I’ve tried Jack, Jim, Jameson, Evans, Makers, and Crown… nothing took away the pain and unhappiness. I can’t drink the stress away but I can cleanse my space with lots of sage.

Did you know Beltane is on Saturday. Hard to believe it’s almost May. Beltane is a Celtic word which means ‘fires of Bel’ (Bel was a Celtic deity). It is a fire festival that celebrates of the coming of summer and the fertility of the coming year. “Emma Restall Orr, a modern day Druid, speaks of the ‘fertility of our personal creativity’. (Spirits of the Sacred Grove, pub. Thorsons, 1998, pg.110). She is referring to the need for active and creative lives. We need fertile minds for our work, our families and our interests.”

My attempt to write 30 poems in April went awry because of all the stress. I can’t let this crap keep ruining my life. I’ve been thinking a lot about how much this whole house situation has derailed me emotionally and add in some other additional stressors I need to focus on me. I agree with Emma, creativity has been lacking.

So I thought I would try 31 micro-fiction pieces for May. I’ve been scribbling in my journal a lot so taking it a notch shouldn’t be to challenging. I’ve already placed new salt on my altar and have candles ready for Saturday night’s fire ritual. I haven’t packed my tarot cards, a reading is overdue.

May 1st… time to replenish me…

May Day/ Beltane celebrates the start of the bright half of the year. One of four main festivals of Celtic spirituality, it’s a time to make merry.

Selling your home isn’t for the weak of heart, part 8 and other crap.

Yesterday, was extremely stressful with the home inspection. Today, I just can’t get myself motivated. There’s still so much to pack but… I’m just not caring. I went to shut the lights off on the lower level yesterday, yup again they left all the lights on. There’s the frigging radon test sitting right in the way of my packing. If I move any of the books on the shelf I could disturb it. The frigging inspector knew we were right outside, he could have asked if it was alright to put it there and I would have moved my books so he could have his result and I could still continue sorting my books for goodwill, the library and what is going with me. But nope, the f-head didn’t. He set it right on top of a stack of books.

I go upstairs last night, the three step ladder that I normally keep in the closet was in the sewing room. Why did he move it there and why didn’t he put it back. He left the ceiling fan on high in addition to all the lights. I go to prepare dinner and the knobs on the gas stove aren’t turned off. They left two knobs half on. Nor did they close the screen door. What is it about not shutting doors behind them. And he leaves us a note on the table about keeping all the windows and doors closed for a week for the radon test.

I want to go to each of these dipshits home and turn all their lights on and to leave their appliances on as well. I’m not thrilled with the added cost to our electrical. The sun was shining brightly, lights were only necessary on the lower level. Like I said, this is my first experience with selling a home. Well this experience, has convinced me I never want to own a piece of property again that potentially leads to a sale. Our realtor chuckled at that yesterday, I don’t think he realizes how serious I am. This is an experience I never want again. And we don’t even know if the potential buyer is going forward. She’s waiting to read the dipshit inspector’s report.

If it didn’t involve wearing orange, and a life with out Vic and Macavity my solution would be burn this place after I removed our books, cookware, and clothes.. A clean break period. That’s how I really feel about this situation.

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”― Albert Einstein

My morning began with a spoofing email telling me that Amazon shipped my purchase to a Charles Hilton in San Antonio, Texas. No I didn’t call the number, instead I called the credit card company linked to Amazon. They took the information and then forwarded me to Amazon’s fraud department. We did the security process, and I added another measure to any purchase over a set amount in addition to the two step verification. I hadn’t bothered because this card has a low credit limit unlike my other cards. I don’t normally make large purchases on Amazon so I didn’t think it was necessary. Well, today I changed it all have required authorization.

Get that handled and a few emails down I got one of those black emails stating their going to expose my masturbation pictures to my friends and family on Facebook. If I want to protect myself I need to send them 300.00 dollars immediately. I was tempted to respond, go ahead make my day but I simply deleted it.

I decided enough of the computer, I’m going to read. The phone rang six different times. Two were offering to help me with social security and the other four were about my expired car warranty. I put my phone on silent mode.

UPS delivers a box. Yay, my coffee has finally arrived. I open the box and there are two cases of cold brew lattes and three boxes of Keurig pods. Nope, not what I ordered. I ordered 6 one lb bags of coffee beans. Thankfully, Brad at Deathwish promptly responded and they’re immediately shipping the correct order. He told us to enjoy the mix up on them. Vic gets a treat because I don’t drink milk or sweetened coffee. We don’t have a Keurig. I can open them easily or simply donate them to the food cupboard.

Some days, I shouldn’t get out of bed.

Macavity agrees he’s been snoozing comfortably on the back of the chair soaking up the sunshine.

Lucky 🙂

Listed some stuff on Facebook marketplace, didn’t take long to get someone offering to send me a check and I could cash it and when they arrive on May 2nd I can give them the difference. No thanks I’m not getting involved in any money laundering schemes. Then another wanted me to ship it to them when it says local pick up only.

I’m going back to reading the recent Writer’s Digest issue before I begin dinner prep. It’s been a no-motivational day, hopefully tomorrow’s proof of occupancy will be less stressful and I can get back to packing. I did count, sixty three boxes a lot less than I anticipated for this 2125 square foot house. I have half of the kitchen done and then it’s our clothes and linens. Then it comes to the bigger items … furniture. Thankfully, I’ve been thinning that too!

I would get all kinds of flack if I did what I did with my previous living room set in Maine. The ex was supposed to take one and I got the other. He took the one he knew I loved. Fine I tried to drag his outside. I managed to get it stuck in the door. So I took the chainsaw and cut it down. Who knew how big those springs were 🙂 did a number on his chain saw. If that wasn’t bad enough he left me 30 years of Guns and Ammo magazines on the floor, he took the metal storage bins they were in. Fine I added them to the couch in the driveway. Poured gasoline over the pile and tossed a match thinking the fire would go outward not upward. I took the electrical and phone lines both out. Oops. It was long before the local fire department showed up.

The fire chief asked what I was doing.

“Burning a 30 year marriage. Want a beer?” We sat and watched the fire together drinking our beer together until the fire went out.

New Jersey doesn’t have the same kind of comraderies’ that Maine does. I miss that. I’ve met more New Jersey people who wouldn’t say shit if they had a mouthful especially in the Princeton/Lawrenceville area. I miss real people. Don’t get me wrong, there are some nice people but they’re far and few. Einstein had it right, “Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe.” … Me either.

I’ll leave you with this

Selling your home isn’t for the weak of heart part 6

I packed a lot of my bulkier pans today, and moved the ones that I had hanging on the copper pot bar by extra hooks into the cupboard. The pan rack came with six copper hooks but I had way more pans than that so when we hung it up we doubled the chain support and bought extra wrought iron hooks to hold my handled pans. This freed up the cupboard space for all the non-handled pans. The cupboards look less congested now. I didn’t want the next owner thinking all the wrought iron was included when she returns with the building inspector on Tuesday. People are quite presumptuous.

I’m still amused that she noted all landscaping in the bid. Upon further discussion, she was including my planters which are not permanent. Sorry about your luck, buy your own. Some of my planters went to my son’s and some are going with me. When we moved here there was nothing but that ugly green ivy that contractors use. The previous owners did nothing prior to us. In the back yard, I’ve planted hostas, peonies, juniper, hydrangea, lilies, and 2 beautiful rose bushes. There was a rhubarb patch but I’m not seeing it yet this spring. We did have a very wet and cold winter so it may not be returning. In the front, I’ve planted more hostas, 2 more roses, daffodils, lilies, tulips, gladiolus, and a weeping cypress. It’s a lot prettier than it was.

Macavity’s portable dvd player arrived yesterday. He wore out ours watching a cat sitter dvd. Yes, they make videos for cats. It has a continuous loop with birds at a feeder, mice playing in a cage, pigeons on a sidewalk, an owl in a tree, chipmunks scurrying in the grass, butterflies and cricket sounds in a meadow and the occasional frog. He watches for hours at a time, occasionally trying to catch with his paws. Originally, I got the dvd because he had separation anxiety when he first came to our home.

One of the funniest experiences with the original dvd player was the button to turn it on was on top. The television is a touch screen. I used to walk over touch the tv and then the dvd player before we left to do errands. Macavity recognized my scent and began turning the tv and player on himself. It would come on in the middle of the night basically whenever he wanted it. The little shit would even interrupt my program by pushing the dvd start button. Anyway, a friend was spending the weekend with us and I warned him he might hear the tv in the middle of the night. Not to be concerned it would only be Macavity. He rolled his eyes at me.

Surprise, in the morning he says to me the tv woke him up and when he got up to see he noticed our door was open and we were both in bed. Yeah, the hall light does luminate our room if we don’t shut the door which we typically don’t so our cats have free roam. He came downstairs to investigate and no one was visible so he shut the tv off. He didn’t make it up the stairs and the tv came back on. I burst out laughing. And reminded him that I warned him Macavity liked his tv time.

I’m hoping between the familiarity of riding in the car, the lavender calming collar and the dvd player will make our move a positive experience for all of us. I moved it to the bench so I could use my table. He’s intently watching right now while I write. He hopped down off the bench, grabbed a snack while I was packing and returned to the dvd. Usually, he paces while I pack things. Change isn’t easy for Macavity.

7 days left in April and 30 days in May and this experience ends and our new one begins.

Did you see yesterday Joe Long passed. He’s the second member of the Four Seasons. Tommy DeVito passed last fall. Covid didn’t care that they were talented musicians. I’ve been listening to a lot of oldies while I pack. Like Macavity, I need to be less stressed with this what seems like an insurmountable task.

I saw this yesterday . It reminded me of conversations I had with a dear older friend in Maine. There are still several things I haven’t managed but I will. I’m looking forward to a new beginning.

enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own even if she never wants
to or needs to…
something perfect to wear if the employer or date of her
dreams wants to see her in an hour…
a youth she’s content to leave behind….
a past juicy enough that she’s looking forward to
retelling it in her old age….
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black
lace bra…
one friend who always makes her laugh… and one who
lets her cry…
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone
else in her family…
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a
recipe for a meal that will make her guests feel honored…
a feeling of control over her destiny…
how to fall in love without losing herself..
when to try harder… and WHEN TO WALK AWAY…
that she can’t change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..
that her childhood may not have been perfect…but it’s over…
what she would and wouldn’t do for love or more…
how to live alone… even if she doesn’t like it…
whom she can trust,
whom she can’t,
and why she shouldn’t
take it personally…
where to go…
be it to her best friend’s kitchen table…
or a charming inn in the woods…
when her soul needs soothing…
what she can and can’t accomplish in a day…
a month…and a year…”
― Pamela Redmond Satran

I remember

Monkey bars, swings, see-saws and playground tilt-a-whirls and painted hopscotches all on the pavement at our elementary school. It didn’t take long for me to learn the value of paying attention because when I didn’t… I got all skinned up with some interesting battle scars. All of us at some point, had a few but everyone loved the creative space to be whatever we wanted.

Not all of my classmates were as lucky because my father created an awesome playground at home for my siblings and myself with everything the school had except ours were on the lawn. Slipping or falling wasn’t as painful at home. Recess was always to short so as soon as we got home, we’d play until dinner time.

But then the Parent-Teacher Association decided that the playground equipment was too dangerous so they were all removed and sold off. Recess involved jump rope or dodge ball games. Not as much fun to me. However, that’s when our home became the cool place to hang out for all the neighborhood kids. My father wisely purchased another see-saw, the monkey bars and one more tilt-a-whirl for our increased usage. After school our yard was the place to be until we had to go inside. It irritated my mother that the kids didn’t take the hint and go home. She would shoo them home at dark. We always heard her complaining to our father that someone was going to get hurt out there.

During the summer months we were always at my grandfather’s in Vermont. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the neighborhood kids from playing at our house. I remember the summer I was eleven coming home to find both tilt-a-whirls broken and a see-saw busted. My father unassembled them and tossed them in the dumpster. No one offered any explanations or apologies for the broken equipment. A couple of the kids complained when they weren’t replaced. One more cruel sign childhood was ending.

I miss the wind whipping my hair back as the tilt-a-whirl spun.

What was your favorite playground equipment piece?

My Rocking chair

is navy blue with a beveled seat that feels just right. The arms are flat with curved ends that draw my eyes to the decorative notches in the structure. When I study it closely, I notice how the light plays off the painted finish. It holds my afghan perfectly on the tall back rest.

I’m reminded of my grandparents dining room. There was a card table by the window with a huge word find sheet and several pencils. There were a pair of rocking chairs on the other side of the room with a small table and a lamp. They used to sit together at night reading together. My grandmother’s rocking always had a cushion tied to the seat that hid the slat design of the seat. I never liked the cushion, I preferred the simplistic beauty of the chair as it was designed like my grandfather did with his rocking chair. He balked so much when my grandmother tried to make them match. She stashed it in the closet. Eventually, it migrated to her chair when her cushion cover gave out.

I remember sitting in his rocking chair. I loved the distinct noise on the hardwood floor with every rock. I found comfort in the sound while my grandmother puttered. Sometimes, I used to rock fast hoping it would carry me off to some magical place. The arms were just right I could easily navigate through space. I was invincible.

Other times, the rocking chair would whisper sharing it’s memories before it became a rocker. It was a sturdy oak tree on the edge of a meadow. The sun tickled it’s branches each sunrise and sunset. Children climbed its sturdy branches. The rocking chair confided those moments gave him the most joy.

I asked him if it hurt becoming a rocking chair. He didn’t answer at first but I stubbornly persisted as children tend to do. He said, the most important thing was now. He had a new purpose and it gave him joy. He said my enjoyment in his safe arms was worth it all. He was happy going on adventures with me.

I think he enjoyed rocking me away from everything that made me sad. His gentle sway always filled me with pleasure like a secret lover’s touch. I think he loved me as much as I loved him. I wonder if he ever thinks of me.

Its been forty five years since I’ve sat in my grandfather’s rocking chair. A few years ago, Vic got me a rocking chair for my birthday. I sit in my rocking chair letting the swaying of each rock carry me back to those special times at my grandparents. Maybe someday my rocking chair will whisper to my granddaughter.