2020-11-02 What to do When the World is Bananas Part 2 🍌🍌

I’m walking on the treadmill again.. because it is one thing in my life I can control. So much is out of control right now. I remind myself daily that I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances. I have to try and focus on positive things and enjoy the small victories.

Today fell flat after a hopeful beginning. Somehow the hours all slipped by and I feel as though I have nothing to show for the time. Some things are intangible, though, like the fact that I took my daughter out to lunch and helped her sort out a frustrating situation with one of her classes. And I responded to an email from my sons English teacher who was notifying me of his growing list of missing assignments and his lack of participation in class lately. And made sure he knew I was communicating with her and that there would be consequences if he didn’t get on it this week.

I also did some chores but still feel like all that doesn’t amount to enough, given the number of hours I had to get things done.
Why am I so hard on myself? Good gravy!

I took a shower and that should be counted as an accomplishment. Right??!!

I’m can feel sadness about not being in Austin this week creeping in. But there’s no way I could have made that drive with Z and this head cold and anxiety about the Covid.

What else can I control right now? To make me feel better? What I’m eating and drinking. Stay on track with my plan to adopt healthy habits. My hair. Yeah.. I can control my hair which looks great today (thanks to the shower). Caring for my people.. I can do that, mostly. I can’t be held responsible for their mood or happiness but I can make sure they have what they need.

That’s why I made a special trip to Wal-Mart today to get the Lactaid which was completely out at the market this morning. I also got some real Sudafed for this stupid congestion. If I can get this cold under control I’ll feel better.

A good night sleep would also be fucking fantastic. I’ve slept less than 6 hours a night for the past 4 nights. And it’s been ages since I had a full 7 hours. Still.. I’m not wanting to take anything OTC or prescription to help me. I’m just not.

In other news, I’ve spent the last 3 days editing a personal essay I wanted to submit to a publication and the deadline was today. It’s so close to being ready and has taken a lot of effort as essays are not something I’ve worked on for submission before. While all these gazillions of blog posts are also personal essays, they are not “literary” and serve a different purpose.

This essay I’m working on is something I wrote shortly after my 3rd official residency in my MFA program. The focus of the essay is the concept of patriotism and I’m revisiting it because it seems like a good fit for the publication I found via submittable. it’s so close to what I would consider done.

This morning I realized the window for that platform was closed. So I guess I’ll keep that little nugget filed away in my virtual desk drawer for another day. Maybe missing the opportunity to submit that is what set my day on the wrong path. After that I basically said “effff it.”

I’ll get back on that horse tomorrow.

I’ll get on more of all the things and stuff I didn’t do today… tomorrow.

So Bananas. 🍌🍌🍌
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-10-20 I Just Can’t Today

I stare down at the glow of the screen of my SE, Evernote open with the date typed into the title. Just the date. I’ve been told I’m a good titler. Yeah, lots of years of practice. But today I’m at a loss. How on earth does one sum up the aching heart that comes from a child that’s hurting who you can’t help.

My Z called me late last night. Late like 1am. She’s crying and needs to talk. Again. She’s depressed, and feeling lost and alone. She’s burdened by the isolation she’s been in, for a lot longer than this pandemic and it’s getting worse. One by one her lifelines have been cut.

Her HS friends broke her heart by abandoning her. Throwing away her friendship like it meant nothing. And she does not have many friends and is so shy she doesn’t make new friends easily. She literally has no one her age to talk to, to laugh with, to love.

With the lack of school friends, she turned to the internet and found a few kindred spirits there. Believe me, as a parent I’m leery of this, but I’ve been watching and know for a fact these girls are legit. I also know she needed these people. People need people.

Her best friend is Alex who lives in California. The other two are in North Carolina and Australia. Yeah, that’s the power of the internet. But the two edges of that sword are that it is easy to communicate but also easy to stop. Alex was her lifeline when her best friend in real life dumped her. Z was devastated and Alex was there, all night long and in the weeks to follow, keeping her company. Day and night.

Now Alex is starting to become unavailable. Being unresponsive on discord and there’s no explanation.

We moved Z into the dorm at UNL in August and found pretty quickly that she was better off here. She’s been coming home every Friday and staying through Tuesday or Wednesday the following week. She does all her coursework online and has a rare in-person interaction for her classes.

The isolation there is worse. There are no clubs or activities (far as I’m aware) and no meetups in the dorms. It’s all shut down because of the pandemic, There are literally no opportunities there to meet people. And not a lot here at home either.

It’s heartbreaking to hear her cry at 1am (she spent the night at her dads house) and know I can’t comfort her outside of being there to listen. I told her she can come home today. We can spend some more time together, and then I pulled up a blanket in the recliner I had snuck off to to take her call, and we talked for an hour.

I let her know I was here for her and listening. And lamented with her about how this pandemic has just fucked everything up. All our plans. Our vacations and graduations and her freshman year.

And as if that was not enough, she also drops a bomb.. her dads parents, her grandparents have the virus. This is devastating news. They are already high risk because of their age (in their 70s) but it’s worse because they are also both diabetic and her grandpa has a long history with heart disease.

She said her dad told them at dinner and that they were not doing well. They are apparently still at home, resisting going to get help. Not sure why that would be. If it’s true (which is a terrible thing for me to say) this could be the event that breaks both of my children.

Hell, it just might break me too. They were my mom and dad for 18 years of my life. That whole family was a sacrifice I had to make to get out of a bad situation. But now is not the time for that. Now is a time I need to be strong for my children. At the very least be there for them if bad turns into worse.

I just texted my ex. And I’m just walking and crying. How on earth can we get through this? The Universe help me. I’m feeling pretty lost too.

I’m just tired, you know, of trying to smooth everything over and keep on being reliable and responsible. Thank goodness that I am done working or I might just go seriously off the rails. But I gotta keep it together for Z and C and Jim. Just put all my energy into them and myself. You know, secure your own oxygen mask first.

I took Z to vote yesterday and to renew her drivers license. My main motivation for voting early, besides avoiding the crowds on November 2nd, was so I could maybe drive to Austin for Election Day. Another getaway for my sanity I suppose. And because I miss my people. Now Z and I are conspiring to go together. Which I believe she needs as much as I do.

But we’ll be in a holding pattern until we know her grandparents are going to be ok. Which they might not be and I would not want us to be 1000 miles away when bad news falls.


It’s like 2 hours later. I had to take a call from my ex which turned into a long conversation. About Z and C and his parents. It was an ok chat, which is the best I can hope for with that one. He thinks Z needs to see a counselor and or be on meds for depression. Maybe.

What she needs first is a job and some activities and people to keep her busy. I mean, what she really needs is for the pandemic to end but it’s a waste to wish for that kind of change in the world.

Her grandma is doing ok. She’s a tough woman and a fighter. And her grandpa is a fighter too, but he’s been fighting diabetes for 60 years and CHF for over ten. And that’s not good.

My ex tells me they were told not to come to the hospital unless they could not breathe. There are no ICU beds. Beds and vents are in short supply. They are in Iowa, across the river. But I hear that’s happening here in Omaha too.

They think they picked up the virus at a funeral. For someone who died from Covid. And someone at the funeral was positive. Now a bunch of the family has it. Aunts, uncles. My ex did not go because he was feeling ill himself that day and felt it would be irresponsible to go. The most reasonable thing I’ve heard him say in a long time.

He thought about not telling the kids. But decided that if the outcome is not good, they would be really mad if he had not told them sooner. That was another good call. People need time to process information.

I need time too.

Anyway. I’m just worn thin and wonder how today will play out and tomorrow.
And the day after that.

Maybe I need a counselor too.

I guess that’s enough doom and gloom for one day.

Taking it one damn minute at a time,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-10-05 A Day at Waubonsie

What must it be like to have your day defined by the hunt for firewood.. or searching for viable acorns? I had a lot of stray thoughts yesterday as my mind tried to walk away from the conversations in play. Someone would say something and I would think about that for a second and then I would follow that thread away and stop paying attention. It’s not that the conversation wasn’t interesting. On the contrary. I was very interested in these other people’s musings and talk that was at the front of their mind.

It’s just that I haven’t opened my mind in a while for new thoughts. The classic broken record on repeat (those who visit frequently to read what I am thinking know all too well). So having a whole day with new thoughts and ideas from other folks was a lot to process in the moment. A thing I’m not great at anyway. I even had to pop my phone out a few times to make a note of something I wanted to research more on or think about later so as to not lose track of it as one topic was quickly stacked onto another.

There was a lot of talk about academia. A subject I’m pretty ignorant about so I don’t have a lot to contribute. Things like what systematic problems exist and why someone might choose to stay in the field versus leaving to find something else. And my mind wanders away.

Talk about career. These are things I’ve beat like a dead horse and my opinions are clear. Working for your life for someone else or some organization. I’m on the side of it not mattering as long as you find yourself doing something you get satisfaction and value out of. Something that makes you feel fulfilled and like you have a good purpose.

There will always, always, ALWAYS be issues and things you don’t like about it. Frustrations, or people, or company politics that suck. That’s life. But does it pay the bills? Can you live the way you want with the moneys provided? Is there enough time at the end of the day to breathe? Time to do something else you enjoy? Time enough to give yourself to other people you love?

If so. That’s better than a lot of folks. Which is another good point. That it’s more important to have a measuring stick built on your own ideals than to fashion one that’s a replica of someone else’s. Or worse.. what the world at large has decided it should look like. Yeah, that standard issue stick is definitely not right for most.

I can’t directly give people advise. I just can’t. But if I could, I would say all of this. My fear is that people would look at my life (now) and say, “easy for you to say.” Which might lead to me getting defensive about the path of my life. And I’d have to start at the beginning and explain everything and nobody has time for that.

As Jack and Robert talked about their hunt for firewood, I could not help but think about the fact that I’m so conservative about everything. Something buried in me from my upbringing compels me to save things. I try to eat every bit of leftovers in the fridge (and am strict about not throwing food away). I save dryer sheets cuz I can’t bring myself to throw away something that has so much purpose left in it after one or two runs in the dryer. I wash out plastic bags because I don’t want to contribute to the piles of plastic that won’t decompose in the world. Is there nothing we can do with these super soft plastics? I need to look into that.

As of late I find myself slipping a bit, changing ever so slightly and letting something go into to trash that I previously would not. And am ashamed of myself. I don’t want to change that part of me.

Robert talked about sleeping out in the cold in his tent and how with one quilt, tucked just right, he got better sleep than he’s had in a great while. It made me want to try it. No space heater, no fire, just a blanket and my own body heat.


The primary goal of the “Shack Simple” day is to be restorative and just get back to a simpler way. Perhaps spend more than a day, cleanse the body of toxins, cleanse the mind of toxins, and just exist. Rediscover what it feels like to just be a creature that is a part of a grand ecosystem without all the fuss that comes with being human.

Of course it’s tough not to talk about current events. Politics, the president, and the coronavirus. Those were the topics I had the toughest time staying with the conversation. I want to cleanse my mind of toxins and not pump more in. Also I’m just tired of it all and have built up a wall to protect myself from it. Yes, of course I’ll vote, but it does me no good to get riled up about it. So I just sat there and tried to listen. I like to just listen (most of the time).


Today is the first Monday I don’t have to work. Yesterday it was decided that what I am is retired. Retired and ready to give my life to Poetry. Yes, Poetry, I’m open and ready to receive.

I don’t yet have words to describe how I feel. But I’ll keep working on that.

Thanks Michelle, Gina, Robert, and Jack for a lovely day yesterday. And cheers to having another soon.

Until next time,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-10-04 On Days Like Today

On days like today I’m reminded how my son never wants to go outside. He resists it each and every time that I’ve suggested it, reliable as day turning to night as the sun slides down the sky. It always frustrates me because the outdoors has so much to offer. I ask myself as much as I ask him “why would anyone refuse it?”

The breeze and the sun.
The joy of stopping a fast moving soccer ball before it hits your opponents goal.
The mysticism in breath turning into fog on a cold morning.
The bounty of squirrels and birds busy with their own intentions.
That same cat that comes slinking around the porch at dusk that always makes you wonder if it is going, away from home or towards it. It must have a home right? You think about putting out a bowl of food or water.
And trees. Trees! So many different stories waiting to unfold there in the shade. Or perhaps just a good nap.
Have you ever slept outside?
You really can’t say you have lived unless you’ve slept outside. Exposed and open to every sound. Every star in the sky whispering the dreams they had on the way to greet you in the night. Their big plans for the future.

But he always says “no.”
Tells me he’s in the middle of something or has some excuse or another why not. Too cold. Too hot. Too tired. Too busy.

I try my best to be a good mother and so press a little harder. Coax with promises of fun. Press with my well rehearsed speech about living a balanced life and how important it is. He remains unimpressed. Sometimes he’s looking me in the eye and other times his back is turned.

Sometimes I let it go. And other times I conjure ultimatums. I push to the point he really has no choice. He follows me out the door, slumped shouldered and angry. I can feel his eyes burning the back of my head.

A half an hour later we are speaking to each other in British accents and laughing. We could be walking the block or, if we’re really lucky there’s a snow covered hill and we have our sled disks with us and we can get a rush from sliding down backwards. Maybe we carry our tennis rackets to the court to volley for a bit or, if it’s a hot day, we might sit by the side of the pool with our feet dipped in.

At least I imagine that’s how it would be if he followed me outside. Each and every time I’ve convinced him, he tries hard to resist letting it show that he’s having a good time until finally he gives in. He says something outrageous and I reply with “bloody hell!”

I know it is in his nature to resist but I also know, that even if he will refuse to admit it, these are the good times we’ll both remember. That he had fun when he finally gave in.

Today, for whatever reason, I was resisting my own plan to spend the day outside. Grumbling at myself as I rolled out of bed that I had promised my Sunday to the Sunshine. With no good reason why.


On days like today I need to remember how wonderful life can be, if we just open the doors and let it breathe.

It was a good day; a satisfying day. And I got to meet the grandmother chinquapin oak tree, not too far off the beaten path. Jack says the tree predates white man being in the area. That means that the tree is older than my heritage in America. That’s an old tree.

I’ve got more to say about my outing today, but it did wear me out a wee bit and I’d like to just sleep on all my thoughts a little.

Perhaps there will be more tomorrow. Perhaps not.
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-10-03 Thanks for the Reminder

It’s been a wild week. Lots of drama with the end of my time as an employee (at long last) and finally getting to pull the trigger on the first issue of The Good Life Review. It took till about 6PM yesterday before I entered into that corpse pose phase I’ve been talking about for a few days now.

After the social media frenzy of the morning I still had an initial meeting with a couple folks interested in hopping on our little GLR bus as script writing editors. Which went really well. Sometimes I think I lead better when I don’t have to accommodate my co-leader in the endeavor.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good guy and has the best intentions but I think I do better facilitating and operating without another person to defer to. I dunno, maybe I just secretly like to be in control and call all the shots.

In any case, he dipped on the meeting due to work issues (for the umpteenth tine) and so I flew solo talking to Jake and Joe. It was great! They are both enthusiastic about being on the team and so we are all systems go with adding (more) “drama” to the setlist of what we’re about. Yay!! 🤸🏼‍♀️

After that I started to slide into weekend mode. I’m talkin bout a REAL weekend without working or worrying about work. Without fretting about deadlines and what is next. Without any real responsibility aside from the things that should be a priority. Loving my people up and preparing meals and watching a few shows and enjoying a last swim of the season. Not to mention possibly sneaking away to be alone and spending some QT with a few books.

Reading books? What’s that like??!! 😜

I think I’ll get a fair bit of that tomorrow with my trip to participate in another “Shack Simple” with Jack. So today’s gonna be all about the Fam. And Jim. I mean, we’re still newlyweds after all.

Last night as we were retreating early to find a good nights sleep, I did one last scan of email (bad habit, I know) and read the subject of a spam email from Wedding Wire. A site I probably subscribed to when I was searching for a vendor or something during our wedding planning.

The subject said “Toasting to Eight Months.” And I looked at the calendar and was like, ha! Indeed it was our eight month anniversary and was completely overlooked by both of us (Thanks for the reminder wedding wire). That real life folks. I mentioned this to Jim who was also looking at his phone.

He said, that’s tomorrow right? We both laughed. He kissed me and said happy anniversary. Then we turned the last bedside lights off and both assumed our usual “fall asleep” positions. In the dark he says, “we can make out tomorrow.”

I said, “yup. Tomorrow.”

Yeah.. real life.

Now it’s tomorrow and we’re in the workout room. I’m doing that treadmill thing I do and he’s lifting with his son. After this I’ll make breakfast for us. Then we’ll see what else this responsibility-free Saturday has to offer.

On that note. My time is up.

Happy Caturday to All!
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-10-02 Jump Into this Day From Yesterday’s Sin…

On October 21, 2010 (not a typo – ten years ago) I wrote my first post on my first blog: Day By Day.

It’s proof, that no one can predict what the future holds. No one can know what they are capable of. No one realizes the capacity of their cup.. until they begin to fill it up.

I’ve been filling my cup for 10 years… with whatever I can find that brings me joy and helps me feel satisfied. All that keeps me warm inside. I swirl around the contents, and peer into the concoction to see what magic I’ve collected.

I’ve had so many great experiences with people I’ve cared for. Friends and family. I’ve laughed and traveled and, of course, done the best I could with rotten situations too.

As I look back at all my blog posts, poems, and stories, I recognize that those tough times are often where the focus of my writing often goes. That’s the nature of the beast I guess. But that’s not a new revelation. I’ve known it my whole life.

I’ve joked before about it being ok if I get my heart broken, because at least there will be new poetry at the end of the road. A foolish joke which I believe the Universe used to teach me a valuable lesson (or two or three). Sobbing on the floor like wishing there was no tomorrow is not a pretty site. And there were no words that would save me from that agony.

Hella dramatic much?! Yes. But that’s how that felt.

See what I mean? I started writing this intending to swish through the warmth I’m feeling inside right now because of all the wonderful things in my life. But instead end up spiraling straight to a moment of heartache. Why??!!

Rubbish!!

Today the project I’ve been working on, the start up of a new literary journal, went live with its first issue. It’s a good day and I feel great. I feel grateful. I feel… like it’s a little unbelievable really. A few folks I care for dearly have put a ton of effort into publishing a beautiful, professional issue and of course, it doesn’t end there. There will be promotion and calls for submission for our next issue. It’s just the beginning but I don’t want to think about that right now.

I want to savor this day and what we’ve accomplished. I want to celebrate. I want to slow down this happy day and really just get all that I can from it. Pour it all into my cup. And then lay back and let myself be satisfied.

It’s Friday. Maybe I should pick up a book or see what the gods of poetry have to offer me today.

Or do what I said that I would yesterday, which is to lay down in corpse pose for a few days. Yes.. I read what I wrote yesterday which is often how I start. “Jump into this day from yesterday’s sin.” That’s what that little poem is about.

Ten years is a pretty good run. Who knows what the next ten will look like. I bet even the Universe doesn’t know. 😉

Wishing for peace on Earth,
~Miss SugarCookie

Day By Day

I read what I wrote and then start again,
Jump into this day from yesterday’s sin.
A bump in the road, a thing at the right,
Adding one, day by day, from morning ’till night.
Oh when will I get there and how will I know?
With a smile and a hand shake at the end of the show,
The only words that I heard were “Please play again.”
Adding one, day by day, from beginning ’till end.

2020-09-25 Tides Don’t Turn

They’re relentless rolling towards the shore where waves crash like an unforgiving Kublai Kan. Or the resulting opiate inspired vision in dream. Just a fragment. A sliver of the largest moon that ever pulled the tide up with such reliable gravity. Such a tragedy that the only words to linger after the last line are ones about broken hearts.

Today is a strange day. Yesterday at about this same time, when I was thinking about today all I could think about was the fact that it’s my brothers birthday and also the 25 year anniversary of the day I started my first job as professional adult. I actually thought about that for a while and considered writing about it but the end of the world seemed more important.

Plus, the anniversary is today so I figured it would make for a better fit for today anyhow. But now it’s not.

Get this. I have (had) 4 days left working at my current job (Same professional line of work— different gig) and my boss tells me yesterday late in the day to take Friday off. What?!? That’s does not happen.

So instead of pontificating over the fact that my career is ending neatly at almost exactly 25 years to the day it started, I’m waking up to thoughts of writing poetry and beginning my journey catching up on stacks of books and lit magazines. With the day off, I also got a pass at getting up to make breakfast and ended up laying in bed with my laptop until like 9:30.

I revisited my spreadsheet of submissions and my Submittable account. I went through and marked all the recent rejections (I highlight them in light orange because it’s so much more pleasing than the red color that is oft associated with rejection). As I look through this spreadsheet I’m delighted by the few stripes of blue that have started to appear.

I colored in another row last week with that cornflower blue. I’ve got a poem that will be appearing in December in a journal that, like my beloved Good Life Review, is on its maiden voyage. The poems I had submitted there were one’s I had not submitted anywhere else and really, the whole process feels like a twisted crap shoot. The fact they picked up the one they did amazes me. Who knows what might appeal to someone or fit with what they are looking for? 🤷‍♀️

Oh to get into the heads of those editors!! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Still.. it gives rise to a warm fuzzy inside. Cozy like a cat stretched out by a crackling fireplace in the middle of winter.

So I had to send them a new bio and headshot. My headshot is not really a headshot, but it’s the best I’ve got right now. The new bio took me a bit as they wanted more words than I typically offer and just wasn’t sure how to beef it up.

Once that was done, I hunted for new places to submit. I took my time (still gloriously laying in bed) revising a few things for three different new places. That’s what delayed me by like 2 hours getting down to my treadmill. But I’ve got the day off so who cares!! 💃💃💃

And with that.. I’m now checking the weather and contemplating a bike ride and perhaps sitting out on the patio sipping an iced latte. Time to get down to figuring out what this jobless life is going to be like .. right!??!

Feels like it’s the perfect time to resurrect “First Draft Friday.” Again., it’s been so long since I’ve written anything new or worthy of sharing and I very much want to do that. The best place to start, of course, is by reading. That stack of books will be the perfect jumping off point. Yes??


My bro, the rocket scientist, is 49 today. He’s a brilliant person who is a good role model for what it looks like to live your best life. He’s nearly two years my senior but has never had much time for me. When we were kids he avoided me like the plague at school.

Now he makes stacks of cash working for Ball Aerospace on contracts for NASA and spends his free time hiking and climbing mountains near Boulder Colorado.

He’s never given me as much attention as he did that time I climbed a fourteener. I remember arriving back to the apartment I was staying at in CO after that climb and being exhausted out of my mind but not able to rest until I called him to tell him. We talked and talked and I was so pleased he was impressed with me. Guess I’d been waiting for a long time for that. Admiration from someone I’ve looked up to my whole life. Life is strange.

That saying.. “The tide is turning”.. where did that come from? Tides don’t turn do they. I mean they get larger and smaller but they don’t turn. Rivers never flow the opposite way. The toilet may flush down in the opposite direction, but only when you are in the opposite hemisphere. What gives?

Anyway. That’s it.. my hour is up.
Happy Birthday Bro,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-09-11 Does Time Have Memory?

Time is a construct. It’s a concept developed by humans to keep track, count, measure, and communicate. We also use instances in time to attempt to accurately remember. Humanity has many flaws and we’re all afflicted by the loss of time and an inability to retain the sharp details of experience.

The farther away we get from an experience, the more the truth of it dissolves into a mix of perceptions based on all that has happened since.

People may ask, “Where were you on that day?” And you might remember but how much do you really recall? What did you have to eat or drink? We’re you alone and depressed and just trying to get through the morning? Did you stop by the store on your way to work to buy a Carmel apple to enjoy as an afternoon snack?

Did you forget about that apple as you huddled around a radio with coworkers in the room next to your office, listening as hundreds of people scrambled for their life as the towers came down.

We’re you full of horror or sadness or disbelief. Or we’re you lost in space and time just trying to comprehend the news. Did you fall into a state of helplessness and kick into auto pilot.

Perhaps you arrived home from work that day and had a conversation with your spouse who was also struggling to make sense of all the chaos. And after having brief communication with family, decided there wasn’t anything that could be done and so why not drive to Lincoln as planned to have dinner with them.

Maybe you sat around a Japanese steakhouse grill table while the chef sliced and chopped meat and vegetables and rice right in front of you. Did you take turns letting him flip shrimp into your mouths with a spatula? Did he spin and toss eggs into his hat? Did he make a volcano of fire with a stack of onion rings.

You’re sure you had a soda with your stir fry. After all you were 3 months pregnant. That was before you gave up soda. Come to think of it, that day predates a lot of changes in your life. Big and small. You had two children—a girl and a boy. Got a divorce. Went to Europe alone. Fell in love a few times and had your heart broken. Learned how to be independent and found out what truly makes you happy—makes you sing.

There’s a lot you remember but do you remember the drive home that night. Or tuning into the news for answers. It would be days and weeks and months before there were any real answers. Followed by a war.

You wouldn’t really know the whole story until about 18 years later when you visit New York City with your new fiancé and his kids and yours. You walk through the 9/11 memorial past pictures and displays and giant bent pieces of Steele that were once support beams for the twin towers. You walk past a fire engine that was partially crushed presumably by concrete and debris that came down as the towers fell. You listen to the audio on your headset as you walk and try and hold back the tears.

You walk beside the daughter you were carrying inside you on that day. And you think about how unfair life is that you get to be with her, here and now, while so many other people lost their lives or loved ones. It makes you both sad and grateful. Grateful for your life. And grateful for time.

There’s a wall at the memorial, as you descend to the deepest level that has a different color of blue tile representing each individual that lost their life during the tragedy that would come to be known by the name nine-eleven. The words on that mosaic say “No day shall erase you from the memory of time.”

But time does not have memory. Time is a construct and does not live or think or remember. Only people remember. And it is what they remember that is passed on through to others. The only way that the memory of those people and that day will survive the test of time, is through stories and retelling and words of people who were alive at that moment. And their children who will, in turn, tell their children.

No time shall erase you from the memory of that day.

Never Forget,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-08-26 A Dreamy Reminder about the Path I’m On, and Why

Might have had a dream about you last night. Which was really a dream about me where you happened to make an appearance.

Engaged in conversation about nothing in particular you gestured to the patch of grey hair that has appeared just above the hairline around your ear. Yeah, we’re all getting there together and no person is immune to the human condition.

I’m sure you were trying to make me feel better about all the ways my body reminds me that I’m getting older, no matter how young my spirit feels. Or maybe you were letting me know that you’re still with me, In case I lose my way again and am in need of your lighthouse guiding me back to our path. A trail you’ve been blazing for as long as Ive known you, your steps digging a trench so deep you’ll never be able to climb out.

Maybe that path is not the way to our shared true north but a viscous circle of madness. Perhaps your purpose was not to save me but the other way around. And I have failed so far to rescue you.

It occurs to me now that while certain outcomes for ‘us’ are no longer within the realm of possibility, I may have more power than ever to help guide you out to sea. The world being on fire, there’s no better time to find a boat and venture out.

Or perhaps it’s never meant to be. I have lots of other important business to attend to anyway. Giving love, writing poetry, and raising my babies. If there’s one gift I can give them it will be the knowledge that they should go their own ways and follow their hearts passions.

Alas, children are stubborn and often don’t listen to their parents anyhow, so I can’t be held responsible for their choices.

I digress.

Whatever the reason, it was sweet of you to show up last night among the chirping squirrels and broken Keurig coffee makers without cups endlessly spilling water onto the counter and floor.

Thanks also for showing up when you did, in real life. My life has turned out tremendously better since I met you.

That’s all I got for now.
Stay Frosty,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-08-10 It’s Definitely Time

I happen to have pulled some long days lately covering for my PM who was out with a serious emergency.

I happen to bust my ass and sacrifice quality time with my kids in these waning days of summer before school is back in session.

I happen to decide that enough is enough and begin planning for my exit from that scene.

I happen to rock that demo of the latest release of our software today despite technical difficulties. But still I shrug.

And finally.. I happen to be on a call with my bosses. A project review with the PM who is now back to work. And heard first hand when the news of the latest contract hit their in-boxes. And heard the sparkle in their eyes and quickening of their heart beats.

But my heart doesn’t keep that kind of time anymore. My heart was wandering the garden with the dahlias in full bloom and the pumpkins growing wild across a stockpile of firewood we’re saving for winter.

From where I was, so many paces away from the house. Wifi weakening with every step, I could barely make out the words that were ushered through. I could barely care.


It’s Monday and I think I’ve had enough (it’s only Monday and I’ve logged 11 hours already). This week the focus has to shift to other things. It has to. My son goes back to school (he’s a junior) and that could be crazy chaos with the covid still raging across the country. On Thursday I move my daughter into the dorm. Same story there with the uncertainty.

Not sure how these schools think they can successfully socially distance thousands of teenagers, but the economy and the country is demanding status quo so there you go. The almighty dollar really is a powerful beast that makes people do crazy things.

If I had my way, I’d just shut it all down for a year until there is a vaccine available for gen pop. Put Wall Street on hold. Hold all bill collecting from banks and crusty landlords alike. Use “stimulus” funds for essential services and to provide food and shelter for people in need. How hard would that be?

I dunno. I still want my baby to have a normal college dorm experience. I want her to be able to walk across campus in the bright sunshine of a crisp autumn day. I want my son to get his drivers permit and to give him some good lessons as the leaves begin to turn.

I’m torn about a lot of things, you know? But not feeling very torn about quitting anymore. It’s definitely time.

Time is all we have and time is always running out.

Good gravy, that’s enough.
Peace and Love,
Miss SugarCookie