Single Motherhood

SINGLE MOTHERHOOD SERVED WITH A SIDE OF AUTISM

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Search Engine Keywords Are Sometimes A Surprise



I try not to dwell on the "stats" page of my blog too often. It's not like I have millions of page views a day, here, but it's usually respectable enough for me. I've just found that getting all wound up about who's reading me and how often can get me way too determined to write clickbait instead of actual content. I'd much rather write something catchy once in a while and give you some meatier fodder the other days for those of you who do stick around.

One thing that I do find interesting is the list of search terms people plug into Google that brought them to my blog. Most of the time it's pretty generic, my blog name or a reference to an especially popular post, and sometimes, it gets....weird.

Monday, May 25, 2015

My Father Carries A Wound From The War That I Will Never Forget




My father is a Viet Nam vet, but unless you were part of our family, you may not know that. He doesn't talk about it much. If you bring it up, he'll acknowledge it and he is proud to have served his country, but he's never in all my living memory talked about it openly and without invitation. 

He was wounded there, and for his wounds he received the Purple Heart, which he keeps in a dusty box on the back of his dresser. I saw it once, when I was young and snooping around as kids do. My Mom yelled at me to leave it alone as it was Daddy's medal and very important. I remember asking my Dad what was so important about it, and he wouldn't answer me. 


Friday, May 22, 2015

Happy Friday - Time For Another Visit To The Land Of NOPE

Yay! Three Day Weekend (at least, here in the US, anyway)! No major plans, just chilling with the kids and hopefully getting the above-ground pool set up and filled. And writing, of course. Lots of writing.

But today....today I'm going to take you to a land of NOPE. We'll start our journey here, at this beautiful canyon:




And now on this remote island off the coast of Mexico:




Thursday, May 21, 2015

'Tis A Gift To Be Simple: In Celebration Of Simple Pleasures



Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning, turning we will come 'round right.

If you ever sang choir in high school, or were active in your church, you've probably sung that song at some point in your life. This is a Shaker song that dates back to the mid-1800's, reminding us all that the simple gifts are the ones you should cherish. Here, on the edge of Amish country, I'm surrounded by families that have chosen a simpler life. It's not the life for me, but I do see the appeal in it.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Mostly Wordless Wednesday: Every Little Thing's Gonna Be All Right



It hangs on the wall in the upstairs hallway
Right between their bedrooms
Not overly large
And not frequently noticed
Just two little birds leaning on each other
And one little bird looking on
Three little birds
Reminding me
Every time I look at it
That every little thing
Is gonna be all right

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

I Never Blog About Politics Or Religion. Unless I Need To Blog About Politics And Religion.


Oh, God.

Oh. God.

God.

Don't talk about him much - at least, not in the internet.

And that's by design. See, I'm a blogger who likes to talk to all sorts of people and write about all sorts of people and hear from all sorts of people, and the surest way to alienate half of those people is to talk about God, or who you believe God to be, or if you believe in God at all.

Monday, May 18, 2015

Pork Rinds, Miracle Whip And Other Guilty Pleasures


I bought pork rinds this weekend.

Not a big ole 5 pound tub like the one above, but a regular sized bag. To some of you that might seem unremarkable, but I haven't bought pork rinds in forever.

Come on...they're deep fried pork skin. They're a bajillion calories of almost pure fatty, overly-salty, artery-clogging, crackling death.

God help me, I love 'em. I forget how much until I break down and buy a bag. Maybe it's the association with my growing-up years in a small town in the Southwest. They're comfort food. Crackly, greasy, redneck comfort food.

I am so ashamed.