My Power Animal

 When I read this weeks GBE prompt of “Power Animal” I had never heard the term. I know, I know, I must lead a very sheltered life.

I had heard the term “Spirit Animal”. I was a bit confused to what the differences were. After a few google searches for “Power Animal” I learned that I was not the only one to be confused.

I would click on a link for “Power Animal” only to find an article for “Spirit Animal”.

I even found a site with a survey to help you find your “Power Animal”. After spending quite a bit of time answering quite a few questions, I got to the part to learn what my Power Animal was, only to find the heading “Your spirit animal is Turtle”.

First of all, what happened to Power Animal?

Second...Turtle? I was hoping for something a little more exciting, or at least a little bit intimidating like Bear, or Wolf. Even snake would be better than turtle.

When I google searched “Spirit animal turtle” I got this:

“The turtle totem wisdom teaches us about walking our path in peace and sticking to it with determination and serenity. Slow moving on earth, yet also incredibly fast and agile in water, those who have the turtle as totem or spirit animal may be encouraged to take a break in their busy lives and look around or within themselves for more grounded, long-lasting solutions.” 

 

While I am constantly amazed that we have the knowledge of the world in our computers, sometimes there is to much info. Now we add “totem” to “Power” and “Spirit” animals. Sheesh, I didn’t know this was going to turn in to a research paper.

While the description of a “spirit animal turtle” does sound a bit like me, I was still curious to find my power animal. Further research found these distinctions:

Spirit Animals are often perceived as guardians and guides that accompany individuals throughout their life journey, providing protection and wisdom.

Totem Animals, on the other hand, serve as emblematic symbols that are linked with a community or tribe, reflecting shared values and beliefs.

Power Animals act as spiritual mentors, endowing individuals with their innate strength and sagacity, and aiding in personal growth and empowerment.

Ummm. Okay. How do you find your power animal? Oh, look! Google has an answer:

Ways to Connect with Power Animals:

        Meditation: Through meditation, individuals can set the intention to connect                 with their power animal and seek guidance or healing.

Shamanic Journeying: This is a traditional method where individuals enter a trance state through drumming or other techniques to journey into the spiritual realms and communicate with their power animal.

Observation and Reflection: Paying attention to animals that one feels drawn to or frequently encounters can be a sign of a connection with a power animal.

Dream Work: Sometimes power animals communicate through dreams. Keeping a dream journal and reflecting on animal symbols can be insightful.

Rituals and Offerings: Creating rituals or making offerings that honor the power animal can strengthen the connection.

Art and Creative Expression: Drawing, painting, or creatively expressing the power animal can be a form of connection and honor.

Sounds like a lot of work. Since I didn’t start writing this until late Sunday night and it is due on Monday (Hey! Just like my research papers in high school!) I think I’ll just pick an animal that I think fits my disposition and stature. My power (totem, spirit) animal is;

                                                        Teddy Bear

 

Favorite Bookish Endeavors

 This weeks GBE prompt is: What is/are your favorite book(s) and why?

Hmmm.

My favorite book...Thinking...thinking…

This is like choosing your favorite song, movie, or grand child.

It’s also completely subjective. My favorite song, movie or book could be your most hated thing. But don’t think for a minute that is going to stop me from blogging about it.

The truth is, I didn’t used to be much of a reader. My early forays into fine literature started with the grade school bookmobile and paperback editions of the “Peanuts” comic, and the “Ripley’s Believe it or not” series.

My early teenage years were spent reading things like superman comics, mad magazine and graduating to such literary giants such as the Creepy and Eerie comics. Those led to the titillating art work and stories in the Vampirella magazines. My Mom hated those! Every time she found one, she would throw it away. If you are not familiar with these fine magazines, this is what the cover art looked like:

 

 

You can see why a teenage boy would find them interesting, and why my Mom hated them.

Later in life that dramatic styled art work led to painting this motorcycle helmet:

But we are not talking about art work and I’m not sure those magazines qualify as a real “book”.

I remember reading “Shane” in a seventh grade English class, mostly because the teacher made me read it out loud. I don’t know if she liked my voice, or just the fact that I could read pretty fast without stumbling over the words. The other students would read, but they usually only read a few pages at a time. I think I read about one fourth of that book out loud to the class. It was a western and all I really remember about it was; if you’re sitting in saloon, sit where you can watch the doors. It was a gunslinger thing.

The next book I remember was a collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories. Even though the wording was a bit old fashioned, I found I liked the Macabre. This may be where my interest in all things Halloween started.

I don’t remember much about them now, but I used to enjoy reading the humorous stories of James Thurber. The fact that he illustrated them with cartoons only made them more interesting to me as I once harbored dreams of being a cartoonist.

In high school we had to read “The Illustrated Man” by Ray Bradbury. The book was about a tattooed man and each tattoo had it’s own story. It was basically an anthology of science fiction stories. Now THAT I can get into. My roving mind can handle short stories!

My favorite book(s) lately has been a series hosted and judged by well know science fiction writers. It is called “Writers of the Future”. It is a contest for unpublished writers. I think they are up to Volume 39. I have most of them. Each story is by a different author and the themes and writing style vary greatly.

 

 

I find this much more appealing than a book length novel that could take me weeks to get through. If you get started on a long book and then find you don’t like the style, subject, or tone of the writing, you’re kinda stuck. You gotta struggle through it, or toss it and feel like your reading effort was a failed endeavor.

Even some Anthologies that are curated by one editor can have a certain “feel” or even subject matter. And if you don’t like one of those aspects, well, you’ve wasted your time and money. Fortunately, I buy all of my books at the used book store. If they have a section for science fiction anthologies, that’s where I will be...or over in the travel section.

That being said, there was one book that I started, and literally could not put it down. I started on Friday afternoon and read it all the way through in one sitting. That book was Jurassic Park. And yes, as good as the movie was, the book was better.

Oh wait, there was another book that I really enjoyed: “The life and times of the Thunderbolt Kid” by Bill Bryson. It was a humorous look at a time that matched when I was growing up, so I could relate to a lot of the stories. I ran out and bought a few more of his books after that, but this was my favorite.

Dang it. If I sit here long enough I will think of others. This blog could wind up being as long as “War and Peace”...which I have never read. I doubt anybody wants to read that much of my opinion. Actually, I'm surprised you made it this far! Congratulations!

Best day of my life

 The best day of my life was actually two days spent naked and involved in strenuous sexual activity. This being a public forum, I can’t tell you about that. I can tell you that I’m old enough that particular best day will never happen again.

That being said, I would like to say the next best days where when my kids, or grand kids were born. The truth is they were so long ago, or such a blur, that those days fade in my aged mind.

I have had a lot of really good days in my life. When you don’t have a lot of really bad days in a life, it’s sometimes easy to blow through really good ones without giving them much thought.

Sometimes the world around you becomes a part of you, and you a part of it. On really rare occasions you are aware of that perfect moment as it happens.

The first time I ever had enough time to travel out west, was well after I was 40 years old. From my house it is about a three day drive to get to the interesting spots and I never had enough vacation time to make that trip worthwhile. Utah was one of those spots. I wanted to experience it fairly raw. 

My wife prefers accommodations such as the Hyatt Regency and refuses to stay in anything less. When I suggest we boondock (camp in remote areas with no facilities) she was sure I had lost my mind. She said have fun, I’ll fly out in a few weeks and we can do it right.

So I threw a mattress and a cooler in the back of my pickup truck and headed out for the wild country of Utah. With thoughts of scorpions, poisonous snakes and/or spiders crawling into the back of if my sleeping area, I eventually found a spot on a high bluff overlooking a desert view. As night fell, I folded down the tailgate and watched a glorious sunrise with nobody else around for miles.

Any thoughts of poisonous critters or even wild animals seemed to flee my mind. I had never felt so at peace, or so comfortable being alone. It was like I was meant to be there, or like coming home. I fell asleep watching as an amazing array of stars filled the night sky. I never bothered to close up the back of the truck bed and awoke to an amazing sunrise. A best day for sure.

There were other best days, but this is long enough for now. 

 

 

Textures of life

 

There are textures of life that surround us, pressing many patterns against our mind, body and soul:

A loving touch, a soft caress, like satin against our skin, is cool and comforting.

The warmth of sunshine, like being wrapped in a soft, fuzzy blanket, calming our mind and soul.

A gentle breeze, it’s gossamer bush against our face, similar to the breath of life.

The sound and feel of rain, a vibrant, all encompassing texture that can wash away sorrows, or allow you to wallow in them.

The feel of grass on bare feet, a prickly carpet that tickles childish memories.

Laughter is the soul saving net that catches us from falling into the abyss of insanity.

An interesting conversation, a many patterned fabric requiring the mind to follow, digest, and seep into our psyche.

Music wraps around us, an all encompassing cloak that can affect every aspect of our disposition.

We wear the textured fabrics of life like comfortable clothes. Without thought, we allow them to surround us, alter our minds, touch our senses, and calm our souls.

 

 

This was written for the GBE-Reincarnated week #8 prompt of TEXTURE.  When I first saw the prompt my mind went blank and remained there for most of the week. Sometimes, you just have to sit down and start writing to get the mind to perform.

Let me introduce ME!

 

GBE-R.7 Introduce yourself

 

Wow! What genius mind thought up this great topic? Oh yeah. ME!

In real life, I don’t usually talk about myself. I’m normally very quiet. I can add to a conversation, but I’m not a conversation maker.

When writing a blog? I can pontificate for immensely indeterminate amounts of time. And this blog is going to be all about ME Me me! I don’t know where I will go with this, but I am sure it is going to be long. You may want to make arrangements for your next couple of meals to be brought to you.

As of this writing, I am a 69 year old AWM (Average White Male). I can tell you that 69 was much more exciting when I was 25.

This is me last November hanging out with Billie Eilish at the Wax museum in Gatlingburg, Tennessee.

 

 I got married within six months of graduating High School. That was 1971. For some reason, she still puts up with me. We have two adult sons, who gave us three grandsons. They are 7, 3 and almost two. The oldest one can go to a playground, and within five minutes, he’ll have a new friend. The three year old knows all the Star War movie characters, knows the names of dinosaurs I never heard of and says things like “There ‘ya go.” and recently “What the hell?” No idea where he got that. No. It wasn’t me. The youngest one giggles and barfs. A lot. Usually on me.

On the rare occasions when I hear someone describe me, they always say “He’s so…nice”. Yes. It’s a curse. They never say “He’s sexy, handsome and smart”. My older brother got those traits. I got curiosity. It has led me to having quite a few talents and skills. More on those in a moment.

The other thing people usually say is “He’s BIG!” My name almost always comes up after the phrase “We have some heavy objects to move”. I’m 6’-2” tall and have weighed over 300 pounds. I currently weigh about 260. I weighed 220 in high school. People say I “carry my weight well”. Since I am about twice the size of a normal person, I’m pretty sure this is a safe and polite way of saying “Hey, fat boy.” Being this big is probably one of the reason I can afford to be so nice. Not too many people want to piss off a 300 pound gorilla.

Most of my life I worked in the field of making custom trade show exhibits. When I stumbled into this job, I had never heard of a trade show exhibit. If you don’t know what it is, google it. There are lots of images on the subject. It was a fast paced line of work that satisfied my curiosity and my need to create.

I became a carpenter, painter, electrician and plumber. I would also build the crates to ship them in, and then help load them on a truck. Quite often, I would drive the truck, unload it, then set the exhibits up. When the show was over, I would tear them down and bring them back. I visited a lot of convention cities: New York, Dallas, Chicago, Orlando, Seattle, Las Vegas, and Anaheim to name a few.

For a while, I would even build scale models of the exhibits as a sales tool.

I saw most jobs as a challenge to my capabilities. I would take on just about any task just to see if I could do it. I wasn’t as fast or as good as some of the other workers, but I was one of the few that could do it all. No brag. Just facts. (Guns of Will Sonnett TV show reference. Yes. It’s an ancient reference. I’m old! When I was younger, I had Stegosauruses for friends. They’re all dead now)

Later in life, I would do something my younger self would never thought possible; I started my own business building similar type constructions, usually custom commercial cabinetry and vending machine surrounds. (You may want to google that one too. It’s a fairly niche market. Or check out L Brooks Enterprises on Facebook) I did this for almost 30 years. I was an army of one. On more than one install, I would have people ask “Where is the rest of the crew?” They were usually surprised to find out I was the whole team.

My curiosities led me to other hobbies: Drawing, Oil and Acrylic painting, scale model railroading, which led to photography. I am an avid Halloween nut. I have built an operational Guillotine, an electric chair, and a haunted house false front which is used as the entry way into a haunted maze at some fairly serious Halloween parties. Somewhere in my garage is an eight foot wide spider.

I am currently in the process of renovating a house we have been renting for the last 10 years. I am constantly amazed at how renters can trash a house.

The renovation is keeping me from my other love: Traveling. My little RV is waiting for me to fire it up and take off. Soon little RV. Soon.

Well, that’s actually the short version of getting to know me. When I first started blogging on Myspace there was a section called “About me” where you were supposed to write a short blurb telling a little about yourself. That turned into about 80 pages. A lot of it wound up as separate blogs.

So now I am looking forward to learning more about my fellow GBE writers.

If you made it this far, leave a comment. If I can figure out how, I will probably subscribe to your blog, or add you as a Facebook friend.

I’m nice like that.

The scent of smells

 

GBE-R.6  Scent.

What scent/scents trigger a memory, a feeling? Does it make you long for times past, or give you a sense of contentment/unease?

This is my two cents on our sense of scents:

Sometimes a certain scent, like some songs, can take you from the right here, to the right then.

The smell of coco tanning butter or chlorine take me back to the days I used to spend at the local pool. Surrounded by half naked females and laughing kids, feeling the cool water caress my skin after being baked by a hot sun, it was like John Denver singing about West Virginia; those days at the pool were, to me, “Almost Heaven”. Even now, at an age where nobody wants to see me in a bathing suit, either of those scents still makes me smile and yearn for summer days.

Before we moved to the house I now reside in, a neighbor had a lilac bush. It always smelled so pretty when it bloomed. That scent seemed to have a calming effect one me. I learned to love the scent of lilac, so I thought it would be a good idea to plant a lilac bush close to the house. I can now say this should be landscaping mistake number one.

I planted it right by the window where my bed is. The window that is right by my head when I sleep. The window that is usually open whenever the temperature is above forty degrees. The window that gets closed when the dang thing blooms. If I don’t close it, my bedroom smells like a whorehouse, or a perfume factory where a fifty five gallon drum of lilac scent #12 spilled. It’s so strong my eyes water and my nose twitches. Eventually the scent will permeate the whole house and any fabric in close proximity. It may even be a bit strong at the neighbors house. I now know when those light purple flowers start to bloom, it’s time to shut the windows and turn on the air conditioning.

 

I never understood using some scents for shampoo. I do not want my hair to smell like flowers, fruit, or herbs. I would be afraid a swarm of bees might mistake me for something to pollinate, or flies would attack my noggin thinking they had found an over ripe Kumquat. I don’t want the herbal smell of my hair to cause any animals to mistake me for something to take a bite out of. I prefer more natural scents, like “Summer rain”, “Ocean breeze” or “Mountain air”.

I also like the manly scent of Irish Spring soap. The original scent. Not one of the half dozen other “new” Irish Spring scents that I keep buying by mistake because the packaging looks the same. I don’t think I have bit of Irish ancestry in me, but because of the Irish Spring soap scent, I think I would enjoy spring there.

There are other scents that cause other reactions. When I was a young whippersnapper, I was visiting my Grandmothers house when one of my aunts permed her hair. The caustic chemical smell drove me out of the house. My brain felt like it was trying to expand past my skull. My eyes watered. My nostrils burned. My stomach suddenly felt sick. I don’t know what they were using back then, but it smelled like it would remove your hair, and quite possibly melt your head.

The hot acrid smell of roof tar or new blacktop also offend my olfactory senses.

I’m sure there are other smells, good and bad, that affect me, but those are the ones that come to mind first.

Don’t be a stinker. Leave a comment!

Beauty

When I hear the term “beauty” my mind instantly goes to women. I don’t think I have ever met a woman I didn’t like. They always have some feature that I find attractive, and it’s an easy thing to find several. Physically it could be her eyes, lips, hair, and yes, boobs or legs. Sometimes physical beauty doesn’t extend beyond the exterior. Other times a woman’s inner beauty is her best feature and can be the most endearing. But today, my mind goes in other directions.

I slowly become aware that I am waking up to another day. When I manage to pry my eyes open from A) a deep sleep, or B) a restless night, I can see sky above my head. Instead of a headboard, I have a window by my head. Unless it is very hot, very cold, or raining hard, it is usually open. The cool night air seems to help me sleep, especially when I am buried under the weight of a warm blanket.

I normally awake to the singing songs of twittering birds. I don’t know why they think they have to start at 5 AM, but like when my alarm clock used to go off, I can almost always go back to sleep. But even at 5 AM, there is a certain beauty to their music.

Eventually, a cool scent of dewy grass drifts into my brain as the sun begins to creep in through my window and into my eyes. The bright rays of light bring with them a comforting warmth. Without getting out of bed, I know that sunshine will be hitting the dew on the grass and glistening like icicles in winter. An early morning breeze usually starts green leaves fluttering in the trees. Their quiet rush of sound will be a song of its own that always seems to be telling me some secret of life that I will never be able to clearly understand. Maybe it is trying to inform me that beauty is all around. I just have to take time to see it.

Most of my life I was busy working, or just trying to get through life. I can’t say that I have had a difficult life, but it was tedious in that I rarely had time to just enjoy all the beauty around me. I always seemed to be starting the next project, immediately after finishing the last.

While I have always enjoyed the beauty of women, music, and art (in that order) the natural wonders just seemed to be there as background noise or something to see at some point at an undetermined future time.

As I get older, and slower, the world seems to spin faster and envelope me more, quietly suggesting that I stop and pay attention to the wonders around me. I have become more aware of simple beauty like blue sky, sunshine, and pleasant breezes.

I always thought that when I retired, I would get a small motor home and my curious mind would head out to see all the wonders this Nation has to offer. I’m pretty sure I have reached that point where my bucket list has grown longer than my time to achieve it, and my lust for adventure is now far greater than my body can endure.

I still get out into the beauty, but I’m sure I can mark hiking across the Grand Canyon of my list of things that I think I will actually do. When I do get out, I usually try to capture the beauty with photography. This photo is from a recent trip to Upper Michigan. 

 

My appreciation of beauty seems to be getting stronger as I get older. Maybe I just have more time to notice it. When I do, it brings a certain peace to my mind and soul.

What kind of beauty can affect your disposition?