Where I'm From

I am from science fiction stories and Saturday morning cartoons.

I am from summers that melt and winters that drizzle.

I am from acres of farmland, spring fruit blossoms and fall harvests.

I am from laughing voices raised over classic rock radio in crowded kitchens with kids and pets underfoot; from hand-me-downs and potlucks; camping and fishing; climbing trees and running around barefoot.

I am from mom's patience, dad's temper, brother's humor.

I am from fierceness and freckles.

I am from more-the-merrier and anything-for-family and own-your-choices.

I am from logic and reason, from compassion and kindness, and from just doing the laundry.

I am from the Emerald Isle and the Dust Bowl, pan-fried chicken and homemade biscuits.

I am from hallways lined with photo collages, doorways climbed by faded pencil marks, concrete impregnated with tiny hand prints, cedar chests filled with handmade quilts.

I am from simple homes and strong roots. From extended families and generational gatherings. From births and deaths, celebration and mourning, love and loss - all made better by the sharing. 


Inspired by: Where I'm From and SFD and TwoBusy.

Zen

Better than therapy: Letters I'll never send

Dear Dental Office:

I know I'm OCD, but it's annoying that you force me to confirm my appointment by phone the day before. Um, it's an APPOINTMENT. By DEFINITION, we have both agreed to be there at the appointed time and place. If I can't make it for some reason, I will call and tell you. Because that's what responsible adults DO. Don't make me call just to tell you that I'm NOT breaking the appointment. It's a waste of my time and kind of insulting.

Chronically punctual,
Zen

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Dear McDonald's:

"Sweet" should not be the default for iced tea. Sugar or sweetener should be an option, not a standard ingredient. But, even if I accept the fact that you make me specify that I DON'T want you to add extra stuff to my drink ... when I clearly and repeatedly make that distinction and you STILL give me sweet tea, it makes me kinda stabby.

Never been accused of being sweet,
Zen

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Dear Undergarment Industry:

Is a DD-cup sports bra that actually supports without suffocating REALLY so difficult? Really?! I mean, the world is full of engineering marvels, but comfortable full-figured underwear is beyond the reach of modern science? All I want is to be able to run and jump and throw some kicks and punches without giving myself black eyes or cinching myself into a whalebone corset. Is that really too much to ask?

And as long as we're on the subject, can you please 'splain to me why >D sizes cost so much more than A-C? It's - what? - an extra 6 inches of fabric and underwire? I suspect your overhead is not so adversely affected that I should really have to pay half-again to twice as much as the less-endowed ladies. But, if you ARE going to overcharge me, could you at least make the a few more of the pretty ones in full-figure sizes, too? The C cups get a lovely variety of colors and patterns and fabrics to pick from, and the curvy girls get to choose between the exotic options of "white" and "nude" in cotton or polyester? Seriously, bra dudes, not cool.

Desperately Seeking Support Garments,
Zen

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Dear "Gentlemen" standing around outside the store:

There's a difference between an appreciative glance and a predatory stare. The first might get you a smile. The second is likely to get you a sidekick to the knee if you step any closer.

Just sayin',
Zen

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Dear iPad auto-correct:

If you don't stop changing "onezenmom" to "obese mom", Ima sit on you.

Just fluffy,
Zen

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Dear Gods of Potty Training:

Please just tell me what animal you need me to sacrifice to get my now-4-year-old to learn to love the potty. Pleeeeeeeeaaaaassssssee?!?!?! We're going on 7 years of diapers and Pull-Ups and I'm just about at my limit here. I've tried every method and tip and trick in the book, and even made up a few more - no joy.

Ready for some divine intervention,
Zen