Dec 31, 2018


Hope shimmers
Waiting in the wings...angels...
feathers left in their waking moments.
Children aware,
Vibrational pull to the wing area...
Always aware. 
How blessed are we (as so called adults) to watch these miracles,
Each child that is born upon this earth... 
 a miracle. 
Lest us not forget. 
So when we gaze into the mirror (at a so-called adult)... remember... 
you were once 
Pssst, Peter Pan are you in there? 

Dec 21, 2018

Arrival of Winter Solstice

Solstice... a time when the sun (sol) reaches it's lowest point in the sky...the shortest day as the full moon abides. 
Time for reflection and settling into the next chapters of our lives. Giggles abounded this week as we thought of that old soap opera..."These are the Days of our Lives". 
We seem to be in the mix of a soap opera at times, and this too shall pass as we learn to define our own unique roles upon this earth. 
I'm sharing my creation of "Michael...the Archangel". The warrior spirit that lives on,
protects & guards with furious weariness. 
I am ever aware and grateful 
for angelic spirits.

Dec 17, 2018

Young & Foolish

Images: Port Aransas, Texas

When I was Young & Foolish
my Ego
 Lived Larger than Life 
within my Brain. 
Almost Rendering my Heart Useless...
Fighting Back 
for an Unencumbered Heart,
proved to be a Battle.
At 60 the small Girl of Wonder & Play
Is Returning to the Land 
That Surrounds my Heart. 
I Welcome
With Gratitude
Her Arrival
Her Existence. 

Dec 9, 2018

Enya Says

My friends. It’s been some time since my last penning. Thank you to you kind souls who thought I was afflicted with some fatal canine circumstance and subsequently threw mutterings and mummerings at the cosmos on my behest. The truth be known (a common human expression), I have been on Bostie Sabbitical. You academics out there know what what a German Shepard act is required to submit the cavalcade of forms, secure actual copies of ones legal papers and present a worthy case for my disappearance into the semi legitimate world of thought called Sabbitcal. Yet, to my surprise and delight, my proposal was approved! Let’s hear it: ARF, ARF and big BOW WOWS.!

Now that I have been officially relieved for one year of all former mundane responsibilities such as taking care of Annie and Clark, I have thrust myself into thinking the larger thoughts for which we Bosties have the necessary DNA.  To date, I have nothing to report. Daily, I read the papers, watch diverse movies on dogflix, occasionally attend a dog-town meeting and burn a little incense that Annie purchased in New Mexico. Nothing, Nada, zip (I learned that word from a Schnozer), no scorching electrical activity has arrived in this Bostie brain. Nevertheless, I am committed to sticking with healthy routines. I roust myself each morning and check out the new smells at this Ranch, work my old trap line, and yelp when someone new pulls into the yard but it’s the same “hey pooch, how’s it goin”? This is not what a learned experience like a sabbatical is intended to produce. I was in search of higher ground free of the scent of others like me. If this awkward trend persists when I am required to report to my committee at conclusion of my sabbatical, my fear is the members will begin to think of me as a lesser,  or worse..reconsider my pedigree. 

Goodness and apologies. I’ve just read my penning and I’m not altogether happy with it.  Thinking about serious matters can cause fur reduction in a Bostie and it’s leaching from me as I write and this is not a good thing. Yet, like the humans with whom I share space, I get up each new morning scratch myself, crunch on a little Bostie chow, and wonder how I can be a little better Bostie.  Be assured, my daytime naps run amok with dreams of desert, rogue lizards, salsa, mariachi rthrumns, and lapping up some of that strange tonic pitched from Clark’s glass when he goes to bed. It always makes me dream of olives. It’s all just around the bend. 

Dec 7, 2018

Life upon this planet... how I love thee

Your journey will be my golden harvest...
I heard this phrase somewhere in the recesses of my mind.
Baking golden refrigerator cookies with walnuts floating in their succulent brown sugar crevices... memories of mom & dad are floating everywhere. They so loved this cookie which I hold in high regard, much like the angels who float over my thoughts each and everyday. I would be gently lost without these angels. Raphael, Michael, Gabriel, Ariole... names that float in on the tip of my tongue. They live within my body, within my art and within every part of my abstract thinking.

Looking upon our children I am well aware that their journey is a delightful harvest for my senses. They have sprouted into the most amazing live creatures who planted their seeds with other delightful creatures and wahlaaa!
More sprouts that are filled with so much potential!
Isn't life grand upon this planet. Never lose sight of not only the golden rings but the cookies hot from the oven, the smiles of children and the pure delight of giggles from those small grandchildren! Not to mention the youth that we touch with our lives... how I love thee!
Bring on the cookies!