Saturday, April 22, 2006
Week-end Blues
Week-ends go too fast. . .
Well what did I expect. Went to bed late because it's Friday night and you did not have to wake up early for work afterall. Then, stayed in bed until the sun was up there because I did not have to go anywhere.
Decided to work on my site, www.shopdrops.com - and posted on a couple of forums I have joined. Tweaked my blogs (there are four of them now) . . . and voila, it's almost four o'clock in the pm. Where did my day go?
Now, I am dreading the arrival of Sunday because that means, the next day is a Monday and therefore I need to join the rest of the working world.
What has my world come to?
Well what did I expect. Went to bed late because it's Friday night and you did not have to wake up early for work afterall. Then, stayed in bed until the sun was up there because I did not have to go anywhere.
Decided to work on my site, www.shopdrops.com - and posted on a couple of forums I have joined. Tweaked my blogs (there are four of them now) . . . and voila, it's almost four o'clock in the pm. Where did my day go?
Now, I am dreading the arrival of Sunday because that means, the next day is a Monday and therefore I need to join the rest of the working world.
What has my world come to?
Sunday, April 16, 2006
First Years
I can only remember as far back as when I was three years old. And I have only one memory of when I was three. I can still see my little self - a scrawny, chinky-eyed, all legs and arms post-toddler . . .
It was maybe some thirty minutes before bedtime that night . . . I was wearing an over-sized white t-shirt and performing before an enraptured audience. My mother was there, my aunt was there, my maternal grandparents were there. I vaguely remember my siblings being there (I had one older brother and one older sister). I was going through those little dance motions that only three-year-olds can do - - - definitely not a structured dance, but very cute and winning, anyway. I can only think for that three-year old now, not knowing what really was in my little head then. But I am most certain that , I was dancing like Isadora Duncan (or so I thought) because I had such an appreciative and encouraging audience. Even now, I can feel the caring attention and love of everybody in that room. They were all applauding, prompting me for encores. They had only loving words for me - those cute little endearments older people always have for their adorable diminutive pets? I loved it. Being the center of attention, that is.
There was a lot of love from people in my home as I was growing up. Was it enough? Is love ever enough?
It was maybe some thirty minutes before bedtime that night . . . I was wearing an over-sized white t-shirt and performing before an enraptured audience. My mother was there, my aunt was there, my maternal grandparents were there. I vaguely remember my siblings being there (I had one older brother and one older sister). I was going through those little dance motions that only three-year-olds can do - - - definitely not a structured dance, but very cute and winning, anyway. I can only think for that three-year old now, not knowing what really was in my little head then. But I am most certain that , I was dancing like Isadora Duncan (or so I thought) because I had such an appreciative and encouraging audience. Even now, I can feel the caring attention and love of everybody in that room. They were all applauding, prompting me for encores. They had only loving words for me - those cute little endearments older people always have for their adorable diminutive pets? I loved it. Being the center of attention, that is.
There was a lot of love from people in my home as I was growing up. Was it enough? Is love ever enough?
