Broken

The following is a probable work of fiction, drawn from the author by a melancholy mood.

She stepped outside of herself, turned, and looked back at the woman she is at that moment.  She locked eyes with herself and gazed deeply into the depths of deep chocolate brown, looking for the answers she’d been unable to find.

Somewhere along the way she’d lost all perspective of who she truly is, what she wants out of life, what she was put on this earth to do.  She’s a mother, yes, but is she the best mother she can be?  She is a sister, but at times feels unworthy of the unconditional love she receives. 

She is a wife, but in title only.

Could this be the source of her unease?  Why she’s been facing each day with something close to ambivalence?  She stares at her physical self and wonders that if her fate had been different, would she be happy?  Content?

Would the simple love between a man and woman make her a better person?  She thinks possibly, yes.

As she gazes upon her true self she wills memories to come back to her.  She tries to remember the last time her hand had been held.  Such simple contact, barely touching, but which links two lovers and makes them appear united.

She looks deep within herself, grasping at the past, searching to recollect the last time she was touched, even fleetingly, for no other reason than her lover wanting to absorb her essence.

Had there ever been a time when he looked at her, no, into her, hoping to discover just one more of her hidden secrets?  When he looked at her, studied her, hoping to sketch every line and dimple of her face into his memory to carry with him until the next time?

Had she ever been kissed?  She thinks back over the many years and knows she has been, but the touch of a lover’s lips on hers is completely forgotten.  She’s unable to conjure that feeling of feather soft lips caressing hers, warming her from the outside, in.

If she can’t have even have the fleeting memories of these times, these emotions, does that make her barren inside?  She wonders, as she gazes at her self, “Am I deserving of that kind of love?  If I am, why hasn’t He blessed me with it?”  But then she realizes that He has blessed her with that kind of love.  It just wasn’t meant to last a lifetime.  She knows now, that from this day on, she has to learn to live with the constant ache of that lost love.  She knows she will never again feel the rush of new love consuming her every breath.  She will never again know the feel of a lover’s lips, or hands, or gaze.  She knows for certain that never again will she feel safe and cherished.

She realizes now that the only true love she will ever feel again is the true love of her Creator.  And although the thought comforts her, it also brings her anguish.  For does not every human being deserve to be enveloped by the love and adoration of another?

 

Justine – 5-19-09

It's the Ocean. What's Not to Love?

Well, if you're Strudel, the water is what's not to love.

Late yesterday afternoon we all took a drive to the beach to introduce Strudel to the sand and sea for the first time. The former? She loved. The latter? Not so much.






Don't worry, all of the videos will be short and sweet.



Here she is getting her first feel of the water.



Why do I get the feeling she was not impressed?





Now Golden Retrievers are known for being excellent duck hunters, hence, they love the water. Well, my Strudel obviously didn't get that particular gene. If we wanted her in the water, Jimmy had to carry her there and then plop her fuzzy ass in the surf.



I'm hoping that in time she'll learn to love the water. I'm also hoping we haven't scarred her fragile canine brain for life.







Nothing like seeing it live, right?



Now, my Strudely Doodley loves to run so Jimmy and Mikayla were having a blast with her. But look at how the poor spaz runs. Her legs are going every which-way. And also notice what she does the second she sees the water coming toward her.



We all had a good time, but the girls had an absolute blast. For a kid, I don't think there's anything like that first ocean swim of the season.

Madison looks a bit funky here, but that could be because she saw Strudel was about to pounce on her.



Geez, this one isn't a little kid anymore!








I hope you enjoyed this little trip to the ocean as much as we did. And I promise I'll try to write less posts about Strudel, and more about... well... something else.

P.S. Aren't you glad there was no poop mentioned in this post?

P.P.S. Strudel's poop is back to normal!




Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!

The Unscoopable Poop

Ode To a Flea
by Strudel Oko

I'm sorry 'bout the kitchen floor
I apologize for all the gore

Who knew that eating just one flea
Could make a tapeworm grow in me?

I really didn't mind it there
I really was quite unaware

But you saw that worm atop my poop
Made me take pills,
Now my poop is like soup!

I'm sorry that I've messed the yard
And made walking through the grass so very
hard

But can't you see I suffer too?
My butt is raw and bleeding from too much poo

I know my farts are loud and foul,
but what can I do?
I'm a slave to my bowel

Don't worry Mommy, this too shall pass
Just be thankful it's not your ass!

Composed by Strudel
&
Typed by Mommy




Strudel Out




Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!