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Ellé Bell Café

A Coffee & Gift Shop

111 W. Main St., Union SC



I love to write. I really do. I do so love to paint scenes from my life inside a ripe and active imagination with words. It's my art, often developing from deep anguish, a passionate and heartbreaking internal conflict that flows out of my fingertips all by itself. Sometimes it's just simple and beautiful moments that are magnified into something of a daydream. Any way it is, and if you can dig it - keep reading.. It's simply an extension of me... find me on tumblr for more steamy cafe passion!

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Back yard cartoons

Posted on February 2, 2016 at 6:10 PM Comments comments (1)

Story time in the cafe!


I'm sitting outside with a mug of coffee, and it's February in SC. Mid fifties, crisp, damp. The squirrels have been foraging for acorns and nuts. About this time of year, pickings are slim. Diesel is protective of the yard, denying access to all trespassing squirrels. Over time this has turned into a game between the squirrels being bandits, and the mean old sheriff driving the mad gunmen outta his town!


It goes on all year round, but this time of year, its for survival.


The squirrel must slowly and stealthily creep into the lawn, careful not to move even a single fallen leaf, as its disturbance may indicate signs of an intruder and the sheriff is but only a few feet away.


Coffee and me are hanging out in the gardens watching this happen from the love seat. Diesel was sitting next to me. I had my coffee mug in one hand, and was giving doggie scratches with the other. Diesel was pretty oblivious to the squirrel, I had found "the best scratch spot" in doggie terms. No lie, this actually happened, coffee as my witness!!


Diesels butt scratching had him off guard and it wasn't until the intruding squirrel had gotten within a few feet of Diesel did he awaken from his daydreamy butt-scratching state to even notice the squirrel was just three feet away. They locked eyes instantaneously. So the squirrels face is saying, "Oh [email protected]!#!" and Diesel scrunches his face and does that clueless Scooby Doo "HUH!?"


Diesel leaps, it's almost like I am retelling this to you and in my mind he is running in slow motion but really it lasted all of a staggering 2.5 seconds. He ferociously leaps, the squirrel grabs the acorn and runs lightening speed to the closest fence top as quickly as his jiggling little thighs would take him. Diesel growls and barks at the squirrel saying, " Squirrel I don't want to have to tell you again. You got to stay out of here!" And the squirrel is holding his sagging little breast as his chest heaves. He is thanking whatever God squirrels worship meanwhile making sure he is in one piece.


"So you're seeing this with me, right?" I ask coffee.

"Yup, I am totally still here with you."

"Do you see the little squirrel is out of breath?"




So Diesel gets bored of the whole squirrel barking thing and comes back for more of the whole butt scratching thing. Diesel drifts off. Squirrel puts the nut in his mouth and walks from about the middle, to the very right back corner of the gardens, the length of the fence. He stops at the fence top and waves his tail, like a wild, flamenco dancer. Diesel is oblivious. The squirrel keeps waving his tail from the fence top and I can't tell if he likes the attention, or is just really into it.


The squirrel then climbs onto the light pole, scales to it's top and then finishes the dance with a naughty little spout off, I could hardly believe my ears. This squirrels swearing put our sailors to shame. Shame.


While the squirrel is waving his tail and screaming squirrel obscenities fifteen feet from the sheriff's face in his squeaky squirrel language, he is standing just above eye-level to the dog. As such, he is literally non-existent to the dog at this time.


He nods his fuzzy little head at me, an omen. Just like Babe Ruth before that famous hit. With a flick of his tail, the squirrel climbs the next pole to the phone lines that run above the yard, inside the fence, along the entire back length of the Cafe gardens. He steps on the wire and walks, no, more like 'dances' all the way, parading those little ham hocks in such a way... it made a grown woman wish she could squeeze them! He crosses the fence line, descales the pole, hops on the closest tree and heads back towards the yard to do it all over again...


#Coffeetime. I can dig it!

Imperfect Timing

Posted on October 30, 2015 at 3:10 PM Comments comments (2)

It was only at that one single place that I could have possibly been as I rounded the curve driving home from work, innoccently minding my own business, to be in direct line-of-sight of the entire front of his body as he grabbed tightly to an opportunity he only thought he had... Siezing,  in more ways than one, the only moment to physically turn away for the type of adjustments that only a true gentleman could never make in front of guests. Reflecting now, I am not quite sure if it's because of the incredible amount of energy he felt the need to put into said adjustments, if he was truly that uncomfortable to begin with that the relief of the adjustment forced the facial expression or if he was just as surprised as I was to have been at the perfect and only position to have seen everything that he was trying to hide from the people that he was standing with. 

Feel the Love?...Pass It On!

Posted on October 28, 2015 at 3:45 PM Comments comments (1)

These are excerpts from random pages of my journals over several phases of my life's different paths. Life is full of love, and pain. Share in my facepalm experiences then run full steam, to trip down the path that eventually leads to wisdom. This is what makes you so unique, and special my friend! My path and your path are in some ways the same, and together we can learn from each other. I have receieved encouraging and loving comments in sweet private messages, regarding feelings on how a Note helped them with something, or through something.

There is no judgement here, this Cafe is built on love!! So let's spread the love <3 Sift through and if something strikes you - let me know! I deeply desire your feedback!

Don't forget to share the love with your friends!

Writing <3

Posted on October 24, 2015 at 4:15 PM Comments comments (2933)

The truth is, there is just something about writing, unspoiled by the spoken word, vocal inflections or interpretation. Thought in it's purest form. When they were younger, my kids would love to hear me spin a web of tales to engage and enthrall a rebelliously weary 6 year old at bedtime, but only some of my stories can be told in that way. 


Most of those things tip toeing through my head are more vibrantly formed and able to be transferred pretty accuartely into an active imagination without a physical voice playing the thought along. The energy that would have been spent to muster a whisper to speak the thought is better spent silently typing out the tales to immediately engage the imagination point blank, painting potent and extraordinary tales of charm, wonder and amazement. These thoughts are not as easy for me to speak out in words, like prose to a stolen audience during late Saturday afternoon tea time, with tiny plastic tea cups and stuffed animals set up in what is the feather-boa wrapped splendor of a creative four-year-old. I am an adult now, so to those childish thoughts I must say,"shhh... ". I cannot waste my time with speaking nonsense. It is better, instead, to let my written words sneak out of the magical gate that is the flashing blue cursor on this computer screen, as the lookout gives the silent wave, signaling "run" to all the words that eventually finally ended up skidding, sliding and summersaulting their way onto this page with each tiny keyboard clickety-clack the middle of the night ...while the rest of the house lie silently sleeping...


Posted on July 19, 2015 at 8:00 PM Comments comments (0)

Earlier this week a friend of mine created a startling conversation twister on me. Here is the scenario: Your ex-husband of years and years ago comes to you and says,” I have come back to be with you, I am a changed person.” And he really may, he just may finally be absolutely everything you have ever dreamed. What do you do?

I said, “Oh my, heck no…what ugh! WHAT?!NO!!”

(But, come on, baby… that thing you hated- that I did all the time – I never do that anymore!! You are deserving of nothing less than royal treatment for as long as you hold the breath of life in your body my queen, or it is I who will be a bonded slave to you for life if it isn’t so! I plead with you, please! {I do speak so dramatically in my head})

I am still reeling, “Unthinkable! Ha!”

So what is the difference between that “I am so done with you” attitude between your ex-husband and a family member who has hurt you over and over but you keep letting them in because you are all “family”? If they hurt you, betray your trust, spread lies, or even gossip about you (any one or all of the qualities you would never want in someone close to you) why would you allow even one person into your life like that “because we share DNA”? Heck no, she says.

My initial response is because family is family. Family is never any of those terrible things to each other. Family is the few that remain when the world turns their back on you. Family means we love and accept each other for our differences and shortcomings because THAT is WHAT family is.

Or does it? Funny thing about a family. It can be a family. Any family. A whole family, generations of people all spread out sharing DNA. Seriously, acres of green fields with like kids running and playing –as many as the grains of sand on a beach. Or, it can not be that. It can be two men, or women, who love and respect each other- to vow for life that they will honor and cherish each other …and then they actually do. And hey, they want the experience of fatherhood and decide to adopt. So they get a child, let’s make it interesting and say they are an interracial male couple and adopt a baby from China. There. Nothing biblically or genetically “natural” about them as an example… But, now they have a get up on zero sleep and feed the baby schedule, juggling home and work life all the while wiping baby formula throw-up off their suit tie on the way to the office every morning. Day in and day out this is their life -grueling marathon SpongeBob cartoons, taxi-ing for baton lessons, sports, recitals…. So this is a family. Right? No, this is ALSO a family. Family is the generations of kin folks that line the hills like trees in the mountains-- or can be fractured off pieces of people put back together whole by the person who completes you, and then grow your family to extend your life, legacy and love along the way. I felt that way about the folks in my church in Wisconsin, we were all closer than being related. Maybe it is all and none of that… maybe family is intimacy and trust. Family is people in your life which you put all your love, time, creativity and passion into- someone who inspires your hopes and dreams- THAT is your family.

So maybe my wise friend is right. Maybe you can cut off people who share your DNA and develop relationships, close friend, emotional and spiritual relationships, and THEY become your family.

This mind shift caused me to ponder for days and days. I constantly thought of these things. I was feeling this way because in a large part I feel deeply impacted for long periods of time after I interact with certain people and I couldn’t help but wonder, “Would I allow this if I had a choice?“ Wait. Why don’t I have a choice? I don’t have a choice who I allow in my life?

Meanwhile, to which I had no idea, the destructive and negative nature of some of my deep rooted, close DNA family relationships I happened to be questioning were already dissolving themselves. I had no idea.

In my world family relationships don’t just mysteriously and magically dissolve. It would take a ton of explosives and maybe the end of either my life or the end of the world I guess. That’s what I know. That’s what I believe. I don’t care if any of my family members told me something that goes against my beliefs, I do not hold them in a place of judgement. I may not believe some of the same things they do but hey, so what!? I am vegan, my husband carnivore! We are family. The only way families of such growing and diverse people can get along harmoniously, is to reserve judgement for God and love and accept one another unconditionally. Toss in a bit of patience, openness, honesty, humor, sometimes wine. Sometimes a lot of wine. But year after year it is obvious that some enjoy this less and less. There are people who cannot openly love, who cannot listen, or who don’t want to hear. Who say such hateful things to each other, about people they see on the street… but we tromp through because that’s so-and-so, the family monster… But hey, DNA, right?

Wow. Maybe***** I think no***** Maybe it is the most awful hurt to feel disowned by the people who are never supposed to stop believing in you, but the ones who do love you and believe in you will heal those wounds. And then THEY become your family.

Within the next few days, it becomes evident I have been at least mildly disowned. By loving members of my own DNA pool, the never-leave-your-side, never give up on you family.

I guess turnabout is fair play. I just realized that I did not like the negativity and emotional draining on me as a person that I feel when I am with that person. I was thinking it, they actually cut me off. Maybe it is because I might not be the caliber of person that they want in their lives. So be it. I am me. I am not perfect, but I am happy. I am me. I am proud to be it and I will not be ashamed of me. I am a person who feels the heated intensity of passion like skin to a blue flame, and I feel hurt as deep as the deepest blade plunged up between my shoulder blades right through my ribs to completely pierce my beating heart.

DNA or not, my family consists of those who do not spit hate into the world of others.

My family is open, addressing openly any issues… talking to the person directly, first. My family knows each other’s hearts and intentions and ALWAYS sees a person for who they are. Confusion and questions are directly asked, answers occur, feelings are discussed and we move on. There is not a “deal breaker” in “family”. But for some there is. (When that happens, they are not your family anymore because they have changed how they feel about you and see…? They never even asked you anything. They just left calls unanswered. Voicemail ignored. Texts are abrupt. Nobody wants to say anything. But talk about it behind my back.

You have now just become the rest of the world. Congratulations. Whirring colors blindly whipping by as you speed off to bring hate, drama or gossip to whatever event you are attending today. Goodbye. I didn’t get a formal goodbye. A text. Nothing. Just a bunch of blocked folks on FB and lots of questions. Okay. If that’s how you do it that is just peachy with me. I guess.

I have to process all of it. I was ready for it (because my friend just had to ask the question- and I never knew such a thought was in existence ...but had then pondered it to its fullest extent both positive and negatively) but now that it has happened how do I feel? I feel uncomfortable. And sad. I love them. I never imagined a world in which we would not be celebrating and supporting each other. Taking photos of each other doing silly things and reminiscing over a fire. Or gathering to sit under trees in the summertime in lawn chairs and watch as the next generation runs and plays together. But, now I guess that thought is over. I am sad. Deeply saddened. But at the same time, I am a little bit okay with it. No more blades slicing deep through the ribs, no more choking on the truth about how I feel. I will always love a part of and miss that person. Truly, I do not know who you are anymore. Well, I take that back- I do. I have seen it all along, but you see I am different than you. I am wired for love, peace, openness, harmony, understanding, and tolerance. Better things. The negative and hurtfulness you perpetuate are palpable, and I do not like how it feels. I learned in family counseling when I was very young, that I was the one who bridged each strained relationship until it was mended. The peacekeeper. That’s a lot of work over a lot of time. So much time.

As with any wound of significance, this is the pain that comes with debridement. But in this pain, just as it always does, comes a great and healing lesson. There is the obvious lesson of: it is only those who have unabashedly captivated the very beat of your heart that may be regarded as family, and nothing less.

The important lesson here is I am found to be in favor of my Father, the King. He planted the seed of thought and helped me process all of this before it ever came to pass so that when it did I would not be so unexpectedly blindsided. What can I say, I learned what a family is from Him!

My family certainly does not consist of anyone who would reserve judgement against me, and speak despicably about me OR partake in listening and pondering the accusation without first questioning the validity of the statement. Second (here’s the kicker) they love me enough to ask me questions in order to seek resolution and clarity for the betterment of us as people, for the healing of the relationship and for our lives to resume to their previous, harmonious state.

You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Romans 2:1

So back to the beginning…

So what is the difference between that “I am so done with you” attitude between your ex-husband and a family member? If they hurt you, betray your trust, steal, lie, harass, spread lies, gossip about you- any one or all of the qualities you would never want in a friend- why would you allow even one person into your life like that “because we share DNA”?

So in a final answer to my friends question…after pondering through this question and battling the demons that came with it, it is to my great surprise that I say my gut reaction was right and I was completely wrong at the same time. Not all people that share your DNA are family, because true family would never do terrible things to one another. Abandoning one another, excluding people from communication, talking in poor regard about someone to one another. Family wouldn’t partake. Family would never believe it. Family puts the integrity and value of that interpersonal relationship higher than whatever is on the table. Family would seek truth, acceptance, and resolution in love.

This paper is the actual metamorphosis of my definition of family.

I am devoted to my family. What I wasn’t aware of a week ago when my friend first brought up the subject, was that my family was already much, much smaller than I thought it was.

But you know what, I am okay with that.



Posted on September 13, 2012 at 8:30 PM Comments comments (0)

Locked deep inside a sullen spot in my heart, a dream silently lingered. Suffocating the hope out of that dream, it was slowly dying inside the walls I built around it. Days and months crawled by, even years, and the belief that I could touch the sky withered until finally it began the process of relinquishing the hold it had on me. Thoughts, beliefs and emotions bared themselves without their protective cover to keep them safe, and exposed they lay naked to the elements they surrendered to. Occasionally a fresh breath of life would spark that dream to shake the dust off its dry bones, and with anticipation would look up over the walls, searching the open expanse of darkness for its rescue…but over time grew tired and weak, curling up to hold itself and be still again to stop the pain of dying.

And then it rained.

  Cool and wet, the life that fell from the clouds began to wash the despair from the shadowed places that outlined the remains of that dream. The sun peeked over the wall and the rays warmed it's weathered skin. Breathing deep the sweet air, freedom and hope danced around the dream until finally on it's feet, the richness of life pulsed again. The steps that began stiff and rigid, smoothly flowed into a delicate, graceful dance that flowed on the honeysuckle breeze. And then you were there.

And it was obvious this dream was meant to laugh, twirl and dance. Like a brilliant rainbow palette, we became two animate, kaleidoscopic vapors dancing on the wind. Laughing and swirling around one another, over then under - then catching one another before spinning and tumbling. Neither afraid to touch the ground, knowing one will never let the other fall. We soar to touch the sapphire sky and as I reach out, it tickles my fingertips. Then as quick as a blink, each whisp succumbs to the dreams held captive for so long and together vanish into the morning sun.


Transcendental Dream

Posted on August 13, 2012 at 8:00 PM Comments comments (4)

As the melodic wind chimes dance on the swirling gentle breeze giving life to the delicately layered song that soothes my soul, my thoughts drift on that very breeze to a quiet place. I stand at the bottom of a towering mountain where I strain and squint to gaze all the way up to the top of its snow capped ridges. I hunger to see the world from way up high in that extraordinary place. I imagine it is illuminated in shimmered crystal lights. I long to dance barefoot in victory along the edges of the soft, mossy space that stands apart from the cold like a mirage in the center of all that snow just for me. A place where my dreams and independence are intimately intertwined and the words that are scrawled in the book of my life have not yet even been imagined.

Never fear to dream a dream that is alive inside of you. The mountain may seem expansive, even impossible to climb, but have faith and believe in yourself. Tenacity will inspire the breath of life that rouses the soul of that dream. Confidence and passion become wings that lift your feet from the ground. Believe and pursue that which burns inside the heart that beats in you, never denying who you are, and the time will come for you to stand breathlessly in awe of the view from the top of your mountain.


Sink Reflections

Posted on March 21, 2012 at 7:40 PM Comments comments (9)

As the ragged edges are trimmed off the day I find my therapy in a hot, soapy sink full of dishes. Over the past few hours my glass of white zinfandel disappears sip by sip while thoughts somersault through my mind, and eventually I drift back to where I once was in a time and place lost long ago. Childhood.


I was raised in a small village on a lake, and on a farm in the middle of nowhere on the weekends. Whether I was spending a quiet day deep in the woods of Pine River or swimming off the shores of Lake Winnebago I realize my childhood was saturated in imagination, innocence and simplicity. Life for me was grounded in nature. I remember millions of imaginary adventures, meditating on the sound of the pine needles as they dropped through a web of branches to find the forest floor, laying in the tall grasses of a flowered meadow having conversations with the animals I saw in the clouds, perched barefoot on a mossy bank as the waves lapped the sandy beach in my secret place - my childhood was good.


Yes, I have heartbreaking stories- sad tales that I will not waste my time repeating. I will not live there. I do not want to remember a life through memories soaked in tears of sadness. I just don't go there. Sometimes I walk through the door of that place and look around. "yup, it's still here", then I turn around and close the door behind me. Sometimes I look at those stories and realize they are not sad at all anymore. I pick them up and shake the dust off them and see the priceless value of the lesson learned from the pain. Then it becomes like gold to me. Over time, one by one, the pains of these priceless stories disappear from my memory as they gain their wings to fly out of that dark place and soar into the sun. I believe positive energy and goodness comes from within. Sometimes you have to change the way you look at things, even the bad things, to find the beauty and value in it. You will find that just like Dorothy, you had it all along…


Always savor each moment as you relive the goodness at the end of the day. Tell people you love them. Love, peace and laughter are meant to be shared. If you have a hard time getting to the place where what I say makes any kind of sense – maybe you need a hot, soapy sink full of dishes to help you meditate.


The Pearl Harvester

Posted on December 29, 2011 at 5:00 PM Comments comments (4)

The rolling gravel slips under my shoes and I slide, skinning my leg. The jagged edges of the stony path are sharp and I see blood as it trickles and oozes from the muddy, tender place and drips contrasted on my white skin. Steep and winding is this treacherous path. It was one my mother warned me not to take but I wasn't paying attention and honestly it didn't seem to matter. Before I knew it I was here and I couldn't turn back.


From the distance I could hear her voice, and I listened for it, the beacon of light in the darkness which shone just enough so I could see the next step. I didn't always rely on it, then rolling into ditches lined with twisted vines that choked me, I was bitten by poisonous snakes. Marks and scars were laid out onto my body. My mind became stronger, my focus - intense. Tricks my mind played on me would have me slipping down the steep terrain, but again I would reach the top and even ground although it was one small step at a time.


Sometimes I would fall into deep areas where darkness would swallow me. Clamoring in the darkness, my cut and muddy fingertips felt something smooth and round. It calmed me. I placed it in the palm of my hand and stared at it intensely in the deep darkness. From my power and inner peace, it began to radiate a beautiful opalescent light that allowed me to see through the snare to find safety. My eyes were opened, I began to seek these pearls.


Most often they were there when I did not expect them to be there, when I was at my lowest. They were in front of my nose as I lay bleeding on the ground. On the edges of the broken glass and rocks that lined the steep path, I would see one. My calloused fingertips would find its smooth shape and I would hold it in my hand, feeling its warmth. And smile.


I collected them. Some were large, some small. Some brilliant, some brushed. But they were all so valuable to me. I found them in the darkest places of my life and because of these pearls I was learning to never be in those dark places again. I saved them, holding them close. "... I never want my children to be in this horrible place. I will save my pearls for them, and give them to each child - then they will not know how the wounds that left these scars would ever feel. I want to share these with all the people I love..."


My path now straight and smooth, sprinkled with fawn dust and dew, and white sandy wishes... my feet hardly touch the ground. And here I am.


Some of the pearls come out here, in this corner as I type, they roll around on the desk and spill out onto the screen. I cannot stop them just the same as I can't stop myself from crying when I feel this story seeping through my fingertips.


All my pearls have been saved in a secret place, deep inside my heart. I have them bound in a pouch, tied closed with a drawstring. As my children have grown from infancy to be the beautiful young adults they are, I have opened this pouch regularly, to show them what is inside. As children, I painted and illustrated each pearls meaning. Mesmerized, I placed it in the center of their little hands, closing their chubby, tiny fingers over it and then guiding their palm to their heart. My pearls will always remain in here, I would tell myself. My prayer for my children," Please hear the lessons in these pearls, I will suffer again to know my children suffering that horrible path. To be a pearl harvester is a hard life, please let my children find a better path. To grow and bask in the golden radiance of the sun and smell wild flowers all their days..."


The stories of these pearls were saved and cherished, some were discarded, others played with on the school grounds. Some were bartered with, some passed along, others were hidden with the dust bunnies under tiny toddler beds.


My son has wanted to harvest pearls since he was young, teasing and questioning what was down that path. "Stay away from it, look, here is another path that smells of honeysuckle and is bright with golden sunshine." But no matter how hard my pleading, he stood on the edge of both paths pondering which way to go.


Pain would break my heart in two as my next child, my daughter, would sleep in the trees along the treacherous path. My love for her is unending. One day I reached up to hand her my most valuable and precious pearl, and in a blink she disappeared into the tree tops. I fell to my knees, and sobbed on the grass below that tree. When I turned to hold my son, he was gone. I could hear him sliding in the darkness on the gravel just beyond my reach.


I call to them, directing them just as my mother did. My heart aches to hold them up out of the mud, to kiss their wounds and apply love to heal them. But I have tread this path alone already, and now it is their path each must take. My pouch is empty, my pearls are gone. I have given them everything that I could, and now it is their turn to harvest their own pearls. May their paths be quick and light, especially my sons- because on this winding, steep and treacherous path, it is in his arms his unborn child rests.


Now it is up to my children to save their children, the next generation of pearl harvesters.


Remember, my son- till the end of time I am on your side.


Love always,




A Note to the Heartbroken

Posted on October 21, 2011 at 7:10 PM Comments comments (6)

Never wish for the end of life to stop feeling sadness. Sometimes it is overwhelming, I know. We have all been there at some time. Some hurt their bodies to stop the pain inside. Some pain is from your decisions, sometimes your heart is at the mercy of someone else. Sometimes you hurt and you don't know why.

Almost always, pain you feel because of someone else is avoidable. First is your mindset. Never go into any friendship or relationship thinking that person will never disappoint or hurt you. Your expectations are unrealistic. People change their minds, people are unpredictable. We have free will. But know yourself well enough to set the boundaries of what you will tolerate. Never let anyone take advantage of you or walk on you. You are precious. You are amazing, from your eye color to your fingerprints, completely unique and beautiful. NEVER to be abused. NEVER to be taken for granted.

With each failed relationship, seek the truth of its demise. It is an opportunity to learn from the pain, to learn and fine tune who you are. What was your part in this pain? Did you seek a destructive person? Someone lazy? Too high energy? High maintenance? Search yourself for who you really are in a relationship.

What are your patterns? What makes you happy? Romance? Spontaneity?

What makes you hurt? Are you too sensitive? What do you seek in your life? Peace? Intellect? Being care free? Adventure? What are your "must haves"? What are you willing to live without?

Please realize that just because someone likes you does not entitle them to you, or your heart. You and your heart must be earned. Someone who pays a high price for something takes much better care of it than something they may get for free.

When you seek the truth from deep inside yourself, you learn from your mistakes. Sometimes it doesn't feel good. But that's okay, because hurt is good for the soul sometimes. When your heart stops hurting you appreciate the peace and joy that replaces it. Be grateful for everything, even simple happiness, and your life will be saturated in life's richness, fullness and love. Take nothing for granted and all of a sudden, the hurt you felt because the person who made a promise then changed their mind is not the center of your world. The important things are. Your heart beat. Your breath. Your family. Your home.

If your wish is for life to end to stop the pain, then everything ends for you. It doesn't end for anyone else. In everyone's mind you will be forever who you are today, an underdeveloped sprout who has not yet had enough time in the sun or the rain to blossom into who you really are, who you will be someday, who you were created and designed to be. Don't rip yourself off from a lifetime of adventure and love because of a moment of hurt. When this time of sadness passes, and it always does, you will miss out on all the beauty, love, life, and adventure on the pages written in the book of your life, a beautiful story that in the end of time is wonderfully and uniquely you.

Love you:*


Loyalty to Me

Posted on September 15, 2011 at 6:15 PM Comments comments (4)

The other day a woman I work with came up to me and whispered," Is the man you been dating, is he... well, is he a black man?" The air was thick with her discomfort and I stood there for a minute soaking it in. "Why do you ask?", I was curious. "Oh don't make no matter no how, I just heard something and wondered if it was true is all..."

Being raised in vanilla farm country as a corn fed white girl in a predominantly English speaking white community, I don't understand racism, or the thought or feeling that I am united with other white people because I am white. More importantly, I do not understand how all are not all united in America, the worlds largest melting pot, completely indifferent to skin color. When will people realize we are not to be looked at as different races, but all part of the same human race?

I currently live in a small rural community deep in the south, and still understand very little comparatively in the big picture about racism in the south, or racism at all. I do not feel like I am united with "my people" because we share a skin tone. There are many cruel, backwards, ignorant white people in this world, and the same with all people despite their "color". My point is what gives anyone the right to judge me, or my relationship, especially if the only thing I have in common with the person judging me is our skin color? My loyalty is to my God, my family, and myself. If your thinking isn't right, I don't care what color your skin is, I have no loyalty to you.

I have dated and married white men. For whatever reason, it didn't work out. My fault, their fault doesn't matter - I wasn't happy. Realizing a pattern in the type of people I was with, my eyes were opened and I decided I never wanted to make the same mistakes again. So I decided I would consider the person on the inside and truly be colorblind, because love isn't always what you think it is. If you have truly never found it, it probably is what you think it isn't. Well, it made sense in my head, anyway.

So here I am, in a relationship with a wonderful man who loves God, served his country, and is the most compassionate and understanding person I have ever met. He is funny, and strong, he chooses his words carefully to hit their mark, and supports me and my goals and dreams. He is so very, very good to me. Ours is a relationship based on respect, trust, and love. How can you deny that because of other peoples prejudice?

We go out in the community, and some people take a second look, make faces, or stare... I guess I look at it like it is really not about them, anyway. The way I see it is the degree of their reaction is reflective of their degree of ignorance. I love him, he loves me and we have the type of relationship that others wish they had. Isn't that what it is about anyway? Finding someone who brings peace, love, and happiness in your life?

I am proud of him, I am proud of us together. If you spent 10 minutes with us, you would understand it too. We have a long road ahead of us, but rest assured we will not focus on the looks, or the faces, or the stares we may get on that road. Hand in hand we will walk our road together, laughing the entire way:)



Posted on August 27, 2011 at 7:35 PM Comments comments (0)

In my minds eye I imagined sweet, gentle tropical breezes gently blowing through my hair set against a secluded white sandy beach backdrop where the foamy ocean waves symphony plays natures concerto. This is the goal, I think to myself in the days preceding my departure. Yes, this is the goal. Of course I have the body of Nicki Manaj and blond flowing mane of Shakira, but still - yes, this is the goal.

One may suspect that this being my first real vacation since I was a teenager 22 years ago that I would want to run around like a crazy person and take in all that this wonderful state has to offer. Honestly, it is quite the contrary. I don't have a lot of expectations, or should I say needs that I must have met while on vacation. I certainly do not want to DO a lot of things in this short time so that I come back to my life exhausted, needing a vacation to recover from my vacation.

So far, IPod and I have spent a lot of time together. We have danced together almost every square inch of this (amazing) condo in our underwear, sat in our pajamas on the screen porch where we enjoyed a hard lemonade together and soaked in the most awesomest wonderful ultimate dream lavender jacuzzi bubble bath.

I have a companion with me who often traveled in this geographical area, whose finances afford us to do anything and willingness to do everything I want to do. Over and over I heard the mantra "This is your vacation, its about what you want to do this week" While there may be many women out there who would fall over from heart failure to hear such a thing, and some would even perhaps take advantage of such a proposal - I am a much simpler creature with simple tastes and requiring way less to make me absolutely blissful. This week I have absolutely proved that.

While I did have plans to go to Universal and the beach, looks like the beach is the only thing I really want to do. Maybe I am getting old, but I just can't see spending all that money (even if it is someone elses) to go and walk around all day in the hot sun and look at stuff seeing as I am beyond the era of roller coasters ( I got sick on the carnival swings when I was 12 and even watching merry go rounds in the park to this day make me queasy) But it is so hot, and actually I have been sick. And let's not mention the hurricane that's coming...

Since my arrival here I have been sick. I don't know why but I have been. Maybe its all the stress leaving my body one ache and pain at a time. Maybe I operated on a level of stress above sickness and as I relaxed here it came out of me, either way something good is happening to me. One thing I am oober thankful for is I have someone with me who is receptive of the changes in me and responds by taking care of me. The other night I awoke with what felt like shards of ice slicing through my body, goosebumps which are usually transient for me stood fiercely off every inch of my body and all I could do is shudder to keep from freezing into one solid block of ice. Walking into the living room I saw him on the couch sleeping, one whisper of his name and he was at my side. One touch, and he confirmed I was burning with a fever. He did not leave my side even one minute, but took care of me until my fever broke some time that morning. I have been tired, achy and sore ever since.

We have been out and about, I even dressed up in my denim dress and heels yesterday. And as the rain poured down all the onlookers under the overhang watched intently as he stood in the rain and opened my car door for me then carried the umbrella over me until we were safe from the rain under the overhang. It was lunch and some quick shopping but when we got back a few hours later I was exhausted. Is he blaming me for ruining the vacation? No, because "This is my vacation, its about what I want to do ( or not do) this week".

So today, I am going to the beach. Not to bask in the sun, or to listen to the waves or lay out on the sand. I am going to watch the hurricane pass by the Florida coast. Never saw a hurricane before... then I can scratch that one off my list.

Then I will probably come back here sit in a warm jacuzzi tub filled with bubbles and lavender salts, then finish up by doing nothing really, really slow... until I check out on Saturday:)


Feeling a Little Like Dorothy

Posted on July 18, 2011 at 8:00 PM Comments comments (4)

As my kitchen painting project winds down on day 2, my not-20-year-old-anymore back is telling me to ditch the ladder and stay on the floor a while. I look around my new kitchen to see the sunshine yellow walls now sporting “toasted coconut”, and I am loving it. While I stand there in the middle of my kitchen in my underwear, paint roller in hand, I think back to yesterday.

I was standing tall on a ladder to reach the tip top of the walls in my yoga pants and bra with fire red hair dye on my head, because it just so happened that on painting day 1, I made the decision I was tired of my dark hair…and hence the beauty of the bottle- I am dark-haired no more. Any woman can tell you that the best practice for self imposed hair coloring is to have a shirt you use only for hair coloring, which over time looks as though it has been through a beauty war, or to go (I guess you can call it) “Semi Commando”, in just your personals on top. So this is where I was, paint brush in hand, priming in my personals. The result – freshly prepared kitchen walls and hair that looks like fire, and (hooray!)... today I am sassier for it.

For those of you that caught I was standing in my skivvies in the first paragraph, the explanation is such: I bent over to pour out the last of the paint from the can and got toasted coconut on my cheeks, as my rump bumped the freshly painted wet wall. (Might need side mirrors when backing that thing up!) At any rate, although these are old yoga pants and have had a couple rounds of Abby doing laundry where she used to bleach everything- including these pants, I decided painted toasted coconut cheek prints on my pants was a little too much so I hand scrubbed the paint out of them which left me again – two days in a row – in my personals.

To anyone who followed the ramblings of this chick on too long of a break from finishing painting, congratulations! I said all that to say this one last thing. It is because of my reflecting on perhaps the clutziest two days in a row that I have had in at least a week, I can say with quite a degree of certainty, home is where you are comfortable enough to do anything in your underwear. Some say home is where the heart is, I say- home is where your clothes are:). Even if all you do there is run around doing home improvement in your personals, it’s good to have a home- and I am thankful for mine. One thing is certain, home is truly where you make it, there really is no place like home:)


Fresh Canvas

Posted on July 2, 2011 at 8:00 PM Comments comments (4)

A great realization has manifested itself to me as of late. I realize things are not as they seem, nor do I want what I thought I did. I never thought I would have demands or expectations but I do. Essentially the confines of my narrow minded thinking has landed on its head, shattered and broken beyond repair. Life as I thought it was is over and a new life has emerged…


I used to want to live and grow old in a big, old, historic home. Been there and nothing could be farther from the truth. Yeah I wanted that- but DIDN’T want everything else that went along with it: stress, worry, and poverty. With the blinders on I thought it was a good life. I never realized how miserable I was in that life, in that marriage – until I ended up away from it. At first I couldn’t pick myself up from the ashes, out of the remains of my life and my marriage. I thought I was going to be married to him forever. Then I heard things he said in a new light. I saw things I had seen before but never realized. I believed the things he said until there was no denying their untruth. I was so lost, but inside me the paint brush of my mind awakened, it swirled and danced on a fresh palette of colors and began to paint my new picture.


Since then, my hold on that old life has been relinquished. Looking forward toward the rising sun I have begun my new adventure. Although my path is uncharted and the brush needs to be cleared – in trudging my own path I am finding things I never knew I had in me: inner peace, true happiness, emotional strength, independence and freedom. I am discovering who I am and what I really, truly want in my life- not to be mistaken with what I thought I wanted…


Sometimes I think people have me all wrong. Maybe they don't. I get things people think I don't. I see things in words that others don't. Words are my canvas. They effortlessly find their way out of me, almost as accidentally as a teenager spilling lavender paint on her ivory carpet. It just happens...


I love my life. It’s simple. It’s real. I'm as genuine as a person can get. I can't fake anything. When people see me, they read me like the words on this screen, and I like it. I am in a good place, and without a doubt it is exactly where I am supposed to be.


One Last Chance

Posted on December 27, 2010 at 12:55 AM Comments comments (2)

Today someone I cared about passed away.


The last words I said to her on Christmas Eve were "I love you". She knew it. She knew it by the way I talked to her, took the time for her, the way I stood up for her, listened to her and understood her. She knew it not just by my words, but by my actions. Point is, she knew it. Nothing else matters.


I truly and heartily believe life is precious. Every. Single. Moment... is so very precious. Don't let moments between you and someone who needs you slip by without saying the words laid on your heart. Do right by others whenever you have the opportunity to do so. You never know if it will be your last act of kindness or the last kindness the other person receives.


Grown Up

Posted on August 18, 2010 at 8:00 PM Comments comments (4)

Relaxed n free

Hiding inside

Where no one

Can find me.


Remembering a time when what is,

Could just be.

Clouds in the sky

Become the waves

On the sea,

My sandcastles

Have been replaced

With being busy.



Posted on February 26, 2010 at 7:00 PM Comments comments (5)

Wondering if there is a place where someone so out of place can belong. Thinking… there really is no place- no one- for me. Inside this uninhibitedly enthusiastic façade of happiness and splendor contains this conundrum, and a hollowed outsider I will stay. This is not an invitation for sympathy. Realize there is peace that exudes from love spilled out to comfort and heal the devastated, to shield and protect the exposed and breathe life into the dreams of others. As this thought unfolds, so does the awareness that I am just simply a reflection of the deliberately composed rhetoric I don each morning like a mask to hide the true me.

A Prenatal Love Letter

Posted on July 2, 1973 at 7:35 PM Comments comments (0)

Dear little boy or girl, or maybe both,


I don't know you, for you haven't yet been born. Today your mom and dad have asked me to become a part in a very beautiful happening. My name is John Eitel and though we haven't had a chance to meet yet a very important thing has happened already.


Today just so happens to be a very beautiful day out. The sun was shining and giving us it's absolute fullest ray's of warmth and energy. Today is also the day I have been asked by your parents to become the godfather of their soon expected child, you.


In the world that you are soon to become a part of it is a very special honor for a person to be asked by dear and close friends to become a godfather of their child. I am a very happy person. You know something, a persons life is full of little lives that makes everything come together into one happy and full life. And I have within my heart and very deeply within my soul a vivid, live, surge of happiness and love. A happiness that will forever be shared with you and your parents. And a very special love that helps flowers bloom and birds sing, just for you.


Someday when your daddy's sister and I get married we'll figure out a plan so that you will always have someone to play with, ok?


We'll be seeing you soon, goodnight.


Your godfather,


John Eitel, Jr.