Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
The astrological vibes suggest that you open yourself wide, try everything, and give freely. I urge you to adapt as your motto an exhortation that once came out of the mouth of the seven-year-old cartoon character Dennis the Menace: "Hey! Wake up! Let's go everywhere and do everything!" More than any other phase in many moons, Scorpio, this is your moment to make YES your battle cry. The world is asking you to be bigger than the old you, wilder than five blood oaths put together, and as strong as the full moon rising over a mountain.

This was my horoscope for the week from Rob Bresny. I love this guy. Half the time I understand what he's saying the other half I don't, that's the beauty of it. Check out your own horoscope and get back to me.

http://www.freewillastrology.com/horoscopes/

I have been whining about not writing and it's time to stop. I received some very good advice and I'm going to do something monumental and accept advice.

Connie said: Kelly, your creative energy is like a river that flows through you...it is easily dammed or diverted. Where is your energy blocked and/or where are you diverting it to?

She has a magical way about her. I love it. Well, I don't know if I'm blocked but I do know what I'm diverting it to, time wasting things. I stopped farmin' on FB. Then I started the dang Bejeweled game, but it drove my eyes mad, so I went to the web site and played the full version of Bejeweled without the time limit. Can I tell you how long I messed around with it. Too long. It's what I do best, procrastinate and divert.

Tonya said: Just. Do. It. O>K>, O>K>

I'm going to try the advice of all three of these wise people. Going big, no blockage or diversion and just do it.

I'm sharing with you my intimate work space in the pictures. It's the room I love because there is books, crazy knick-knacks, a dusty treadmill, my massage table and suitcase ready to make a house call and did I say books? If you could see in the desk where I have it opened those are all writing books. two deep. If I could cash them in I would be rich, filthy, stinkin' rich! It's time to put the money to good use and as my other friend Joe, would say, Write Something.

Yesterday I went to one of my favorite bookstores in town, Aunties. It's like a big hug walking in there, so many books, book lovers and I think there was an author upstairs talking about her book. I found yet, another book on writing memoirs to go along with my library of how-to books. This one is a little special. I didn't realize when I bought it that it was used. When I came home and started reading it I noticed someone had underlined lots of passages. I feel like such a voyeur reading it. It's a glimpse into this persons life and what she/he thought was important. I'm mesmerized at my literary memoir soul mate. Maybe a story in that, huh?

I'm going to be bigger than the old me and tell you a little truth. I love writing, but somewhere deep in my mind I would love to be making a living at it. I have always bought into the idea if you do something you love the money will follow. It's crazy, but I do. Hell, I loved cooking for so long and look at my riches now! ha, that's sarcasm. I guess, what cooking did was provide a living for me and my family and allowed me to meet lots of people. I mean, the little ditty doesn't say how much money will follow. Does it?

I haven't been writing, so how can the money follow something I am not doing. This is a start, a rambling start.

My problem is I'm a hedonist, in all areas. When I write I need instant gratification. I do, I admit it. Even if it's not good feedback, I need feedback. Well, I'm going to try and forget about comments, so no more bribery give away's for awhile. I will try to be more open and be wilder than five blood oaths put together.

I think for me it means being more open. I sensor or dilute a lot of my writing because I don't know if it's wise to unload. I have a dark and twisty side to me like Meredith Gray on Gray's Anatomy. I also have a lot of T.V and movie references. It's who I am. I write freely and easily when I'm happy. When I'm mad, sad or anything else I don't write. Like I said, I'm a hedonist, so I want it to go away. I know shit happens, but getting rid of the shit is my job, my gift. Or, like Jack Nicholson says, I can't handle the truth. Maybe. Maybe not.

I also, don't know how my family or friends would handle my unloading of the soul. We'll see. This is a start. I apologize to any of my family/friends ahead of time if I cross the line. My goal is to tell stories without sounding like a victim, cause I can assure you I am no victim.

You know what I miss about writing? I miss reading other people's blogs who I have gotten to know. I'm happy Facebook has kept us connected, but it's not enough. It's like having sex with a guy with a tiny dick. It's just not satisfying. I need more.

I'm a goal oriented type of girl so when I make lists, lists I learned to make from my friend Becky. I can cross them off. That feels good. However, I have also learned if you want your dreams to come true, you have to take action. You also have to start with your reality, not what you want your reality to be. My reality is I'm a story teller not a writer. I have a hard time showing, instead of telling. That's my reality. Maybe these little entries of nonsense is my gift. Hopefully they will take your mind off your shit. I am an official shit kicker.

In the meantime, that's my new motto. Just write something in the meantime.

Yes!

Rent Due

The landlord knocked on my blog and asked for his rent. The rent around this joint is writing.

The landlord asked about my consistency down payment. Oh yeah, that payment. I said I would be consistent, but I don't think it will be everyday, at least to begin with. I need to find my flow. My rhythm. My joujou. He doesn't care about my inner workings he just wants his rent. Here I am to pay the rent with the sweat of my keyboard. I hope I don't fall short, he seems to mean business.

Today was a good day despite the evidence. I only had one appointment booked and it was at the end of my day. This means I can take advantage of a free hour. I'm not usually so good about spending my found time wisely. Not so today.

My first hour of found free time was spent taking my truck through emissions. I passed! Then I headed to work prepared to read, a lot. As soon as I got my room prepared a walk in client showed up. An old friend. I was able to catch up and help him feel better.

An hour later I had another walk-in client. A dentist who is training for an Ironman competition. This particular combination means lots of upper body work from bending over clients and swimming. Then lots of lower body work from the running and biking. He was a smorgasbord of muscles in need of soothing and tweaking. He was the clay to my hands. This is a time I wish I knew a famous sculpture artist. I would have compared myself to them today.

I have said it a million times...I love the runners. I love working hips, legs and feet. The legs are considered the roots of your body. The feet draw in everything, good and bad. If you don't have a strong foundation, the rest will crumble.
On Friday the 13th I took a therapeutic reflexology class for continuing education. Back in the day my friends and I always, and I do mean always threw a toga party on Friday the 13th. My oh my how things have changed. Or have they? On Friday the 13th in the 80's I would see half naked strangers with sheets falling off at our parties. This year, Friday the 13th I was rubbing strangers feet and I see half naked strangers under sheets on a daily basis. Ha...full circle or what?

I must secretly have a foot fetish or just love when my feet are done. Your feet can tell a lot about your body. Ailments can be treated just by hitting a few pressure points. Did you know that back in the day and I don't mean the day where I was running around at Toga parties. I mean back in the day of bare feet. When folks walked the earth barefooted the landscape would knead and fix a lot of the ailments in the body. We are a shoe society now, and that's not a bad thing, cause there are so many cute shoes. Our feet are beat up from different things now like tight shoes, long hours, and lack of walking in fields of flowers barefoot with your lover. I just made up the last part. It seems like a perfectly great thing to do.

What I am trying to say is your feet need love. They need attention. They can be your strength or weakness. Remember Achilles heel? That didn't turn out so good, so show your piggies some love. Get back on your feet and put one foot in front of the other and walk to the phone and make an appointment with me! I will tend to your feet like you are royalty.

Now, if you will excuse me. It is finally a sunny, blue sky day. My son and I have been invited to hang out with a friend and her horses. I promise to take pictures. The gloom and doom is going away and not a minute to soon. So, Mr. Landlord here's your rent. I hope it's enough.

Houdini This

Happy Birthday Harry! (1874-1926)

In honor of Harry's birthday I challenge you all to find something in your life that you would like to escape.

Is there a situation you would like to get out of?

Do you have a set of ideals you've outgrown and need to rethink?

Do you need to escape from those last 50 pounds? 5 pounds?

Do you want to escape a ho hum world of blogging and come into your own?

Today is the day to set things in motion to escape the shackles that bind you. Harry would approve. As a matter of fact he would insist you escape life's handcuffs, unless of course they are cuffed to a very handsome man. Then you lock the door so he can't escape. But, I digress....

My escape will be not to fret over what I write. Thanks Zoo, for giving me that one. I won't fret, you won't fret. We will live fret free like the Minoan civilization. If I apologize for something I write, remind me of my Harry Houdini escape.
This celebration will be a good start for escapism. It will warm you up for the birthday of the modern day Harry Houdini.

David Blaine.

His birthday is April 4, 1073. This guy has upped the game of Houdini and then some. Will you? I don't want any of you to bury yourself alive or freeze yourself to death. I just want you to perform your own brand of magic and come alive. Escape the everyday ho hum and make everyday count. Escape your old imprisoning thoughts which hold you back and let freedom ring. ( pretend you hear Martina McBride singing her song Freedom Ring while you contemplate your Harry Houdini resolution).

Put on your party hats. Grab the blow thingy and celebrate the great escape.

Write on.... Crouton

The other day I wrote my friends, let's call them, "The Write Brothers", I explained how I couldn't write lately. A usual problem, for me, cause it seems when this happens I wallow in it for awhile. Then I ask for advice from one of my write friends. After the advice I write for awhile, then rinse and repeat.

Dang, I never said this out loud to myself. It seems I have a pattern. If I stay true to myself in this pattern revealing post, my next move is to proudly and loudly proclaim how I am going to set the world on fire with my stories. Yup, that's the pattern. Time to face up and change it up.

Maybe my new intimate digs will help. Nah, we know this is just real estate and if I want to write, well, hell, then I need to just write. I told the write brothers one of my procrastinating techniques was to get so caught up in the dreaming part that I start to plan my book tour, jacket cover, (better get in shape for that picture), other things. I put the horse before the cart as my grandmama would say. Time to break old patterns, or give it a good try.

My sister called the other day and asked if I could go to this ladies night with her. I never go out and always turn her down. Time to break old patterns. I told her o.k. I would go. I was in a way dreading it because the beginning of the week is always so busy. School, sports, practice, homework and all the everyday house stuff. But....I went.

This ladies night was held at a little bistro called Olive Oilz. This little place, and I do mean little because it has five tables. Two of them seat four people the other three seat two. It has been a few things before they took over. I hope they make it.

One of the tricks they do is to have a ladies night. All these people send out e-mail invites to their friends an voila the place fills up. They have, of course the food and wine, but they also have other stuff. One lady brings in her jewelry to sell. There was a guy doing henna tattoos. This one lady I met at a dinner party was doing tarot readings. They take a risk and it works. It was very eclectic and fun.

I started talking to the lady who did tarot readings and she did a reading for me. The question was, now that I have the time and really feel ready to commit to writing, which project do I choose? The cards told a story and this lady was a master. It was very exciting and fun. She told me I was going to complete a project but it was going to be something completely new. When I finished it I would finally have the blueprint to know how to stay focused and complete something . Everything I needed, the tools in which to complete my writing project were already inside me. What a revelation.

Now before you go telling me I am dipping in with the devil. I think I am wide eyed about tarot cards and fortune telling. She knew my problem is self esteem and gave me a boost. It made me feel good and when I got home I started brainstorming. I think I am on to something.

The other problem I have is talking the fire out of a project, so you will hear no more about my project until I am ready to reveal a finished package. In the meantime to satisfy my need for instant gratification I will write about the process or the other things going on in my life. I am feeling I might be a little more intimate here. I'm ready to take risk and hopefully like the bistro, folks will come.

Like my friend Buddah Moskowitz says, just write. Write about the world book tour, write about not writing. Write. He is a smart cookie. So, I'm here to write. Somedays you might be enthralled and other days you may question my sanity. Either way, I hope to write, good-bad or indifferent.

Remember I told you I was a machine? Well, there are machines and then there are machines. In the realm of machine world, I am a can opener. It was a very humbling and tiring realization.

My workout with my trainer yesterday was brutal. Seriously, brutal. I am going to put my one little excuse in before I go on. I forgot my lunch. So after work I went straight to the gym with no food in my belly. Now, normally I can live off the fat of the land and the worst thing that happens is I'm cranky. That was before I met Mr. Muscle builder/killer/drill sergeant/best friend.

I arrived a few minutes early for my workout and the manager suggested I hop on the treadmill. A state of the art, cup holder, remote control in the other space workout machine. Nice and cush. I hopped on and changed the channel from CNN to Bravo to watch Top Chef. Ha, the irony. At least I didn't put it on the Food Network. Off I went on my little stroll.

Here comes my guy. Hey, Kelly. How was your week he asks as he turns up the incline and speed. He disperses with more general chit chat. What's new with you? I proudly told him how I did what I was supposed to do during the past two weeks. Which I did, really I did. He smiles and cranks up the incline and speed. I am really kind of working now, but this is about the intensity I do at home, so I can hang.

More small talk, more cranking of incline, more incline, more incline. I am up to 15 now and at the stage where I can talk, but don't want to. Or, if I did talk it was going to be really mean and hateful. What I want to do is snap off everyone of his fingers on the hand which is turning up the incline. That is what I really, really want to do.

He continues to chat and now we are on the debate on Jessica Simpson's weight trouble. He goes on to say she isn't fat, but if you are marketing yourself as an actress...more talk but I don't know what he is saying now, it's all a blur. I am losing it now. I really am starting to get dizzy from not eating (I hope that's why), it couldn't possibly be that I am more out of shape than I thought.

Where in the hell is my ham sandwich I made for lunch. It was a healthy ham sandwich. Lean ham, mustard and fresh spinach and avocado on Dakota bread. Where is it?

Well, I survived the treadmill and downed two bottles of water, because I sweat out five bottles of water in the last 20 minutes. I really didn't know the treadmill could inflict such harm. Wake up call. Even though I was doing my workouts at home evidently I didn't push myself as hard as I should have.

We proceed to the back for the rest of the workout. Good bye top chefs.

We start doing circuit training. I am struggling, but manage. I am still dizzy. Then he says o.k. it's time to do some up/downs. Up/downs? You mean like what they make football players do at practice? You mean like the ones my son used to complain about while I gave the speech on how he could do anything he set his mind to? Those up/downs? The ones where if I had of eaten my ham sandwich I would have puked it up on his pretty new Nikes. Ahhh, shit. It is those up/downs.
/mental breakdown.

O.K. I do them. They aren't that fast but my form is great, o.k. it's suitable. The song Gonna Make You Sweat Till You Bleed, (Everybody Dance Now) comes on and he turns it up so loud to pump me up. Now, I am doing up/downs, still dizzy and now I have a headache. BUT.... I do them, because like I told my son, if you set your mind to it, you can do it. I will think twice before I give another inspirational speech to my kids. It always, comes back to bite you.

This session was truly a wake up call for me. I knew I was out of shape, but I have always been active. I guess I need to work a lot harder to get back to where I want to be. To my defense he did admit he was extra hard on me because his previous clients of the day were all old people. I guess I should be happy he doesn't consider me to be old people, even though I could be his mom or his really nice aunt.

The good news: I did join this century and bought an I-Pod Shuffle to help me through the tough times. I can't believe this thing is only about 1 1/2 inches big and holds all this music. My son sets it up and I turn it on. Woo Hoo..

More Good News: I really want to do better and get better. I am one of those people who need to have a failure moment to proceed forward. Lucky for me failure is always looming if I don't try. /sarcasm

Bad News: This is going to be hard. I don't ever remember having to work real hard to be fit. I just was.

My new goal is to upgrade from a can opener to a hand mixer.

Hummus

A continuation from Chips and Salsa

My new, slower life style has given me time to listen to people and really pay attention. I've always been an avid people watcher and I loved talking to people when I was working. As in everything fast paced, unless I was observing from afar, being nosey, I wasn't really paying attention. Now, I can say, I just might be getting a little too mellow.

I think I have always, well mostly, o.k. sometimes been a good judge of character. After meeting someone, I know immediately if I like them or not. That's it. Now, on top of that, there are some people I get certain feelings from.

Recently I was around this one woman and she gave me this image of laundry hanging on a clothes line. Sheets and towels gently flapping in the wind on a sunny day. There was nothing but blue skies and fields filled with wildflowers which stretched out forever. The odd thing is whenever I used to hang clothes out to dry they would always be stiff and hard. It didn't matter how much fabric softener I used, stiff and hard. It's a good thing my image is sweet or I wouldn't have felt so comfortable around her. Or it's a good thing I didn't have this image around a strange man. Stiff and hard. No, no...it was definitely the comforting, lazy, breezy feeling I got from the woman. She was safe. I wonder why?

Another woman gave me the feeling of homemade chocolate chip cookies. If there is anything else in this world which gives the feeling of coziness and warmth I don't know what it is. I can't put my finger on what triggers these visions, but they just come to me. I wonder if I was hungry. I do have an insatiable sweet tooth. When I was a kid my mom would buy the tubes of chocolate chip cookie dough. It was so modern. What a treat! I don't remember making any from scratch, I just remember those tubes. We ate as much raw as we did baked, until my mom told us we would get worms. Is that true?

I was giving a massage to an older gentleman last week and I don't know why, but I got nothing but my dad vibes from him. That's it. My dad. I can't put my finger on what it was. It just was. I have no smart ass remark to make.

O.K. before you go calling me New Age Nancy. I don't really like that. If you are gonna call me a Nancy name, could you make it little Nancy fancy pants.

That's why I picked Hummus. I think of it as a New Age condiment. I mean it's one of the oldest known prepared foods according to Wikipedia. It's so old it's full of spirit and soul. The magical and mystical condiment. Goes great with pita bread, but y'all knew that. Goes great with belly dancers too. How come Belly dancers, unless they are on t.v. or a theme park, are fat? I mean, chunky monkey fat. I'm not judging, I'm just saying.

When I was little I couldn't make up my mind if I wanted to be Samantha from Bewitch or Tabitha. The nose wiggle seemed easier than the mouth wiggle. Sometimes I wanted to be Genie, but the bottle was a bit confining. All I wanted was to be magical.
Raise your hand if you wanted to be magical. Did you want to be one of those ladies or for the younger people, did you want to be Sabrina the teenage witch? The ladies from Charmed? The Wizards of Waverly place or the ultimate wizard of them all....Harry Potter! If only we could make things happen the way we wanted when we wanted. Would that be a good thing? Honestly, I think sometimes it would.

If I keep this easy breezy thinking when we build our home on the side of a mountain( I really need to name this house), I think a zip line is in order. It would go from the hill side where the house would sit down to the valley where my horse will be. How fun would that be? Nothing but air and wire.

To recap: I have new powers of observation. They include visions and aromas. I'm not going crazy. I'm not a witch. Well, some might disagree, buy I'm paying attention.

I am an aura reader. Just kidding, well, half kidding. Ha...I think there is a career in that.

Chips and Salsa

Once upon a time there was a man, a stinky bad man who would tell me I was simple. Over and over. It wasn't his way of saying he wanted to ride west and homestead. He was trying to put me in my place. It worked for awhile. His constant belittling would sometimes roll off me, but there were quite a few times when it would take root. I was a new mother of two and to be quite honest I didn't know what the hell I was doing. I did know that once I had my first son, life changed. I changed. The father did not change. It took awhile, but I left.

Everybody has boundaries, some perimeters are just larger than others. My boundaries were pretty darn big back then. I would say the lines ran as far apart as south Florida to Washington state. He crossed it. I wised up and guess what? I rode west and homesteaded, alone with my boys. Things had to get complicated for me to figure out the plain truth. I am simple.

Have you ever had so many bad things, big or little, real or imagined happen for long stretches of time? You acknowledge the problems, solve them and move on but things just happen and happen and happen.

Enough is enough! Well, it seems it happened to me. More than once, maybe that's why I kind of shut down this year. A lifetime of shit caught up. I was at the stage where I don't care what is happening, somebody else needs to deal with it. I denied stuff. I ignored stuff. I pushed stuff off on other people. If one more thing happened I was going to break. NO MORE! Does that ever happen to anyone?

I am heading back to the middle now. My head has been stuck in the sand for long enough and now it's time to kick ass and take names. I guess I needed a retreat to the river denial to learn shit doesn't go away on it's own, even with a good man by my side. It doesn't matter where you go...there you are. Deal with it.

Speaking of simple. My husband and I are slowly but surely starting our dream of the house on the side of the mountain. Last year we had power brought in. This year for Christmas we decided to give each other the gift of a septic system. I think we are having so much fun planning our future life.

You know I found a bunch of blogs on accident of people who are living the country life. The homesteading life. Living off the land. Is this a new trend? Instead of being the suburban Jones people are becoming the country Jones. Although, I think it might be a whole lot harder to be a real and true homesteader than to be the city folks next door on main street, U.S.A. Me, I think we will be somewhere in between.

I think this is enough sharing for me for one night. I feel a little better. I have a lot more to say about the word simple, but I will save it for another condiment. I'll give you a hint. It has to do with clothes lines, chocolate chip cookies and my dad.

I think Chips and Salsa are one of my favorite condiments. It's simple, fresh and delicious. So, if you made it this far through my blog and really don't know what to say, give me your favorite salsa recipe, or pico de gallo recipe. Maybe one day we can share them with a beer on my wrap around porch over looking the land and a chicken or two.