Punchy Protagonist

 These kinds of things just don't happen... around here. to us. to people like that. right now. this soon. Versions of this same sad song seem to play on repeat.... when they found her car in the river when I got the text about her brother when I saw the picture of us on the memorial slideshow when he text them where to find his body when she called my mother sobbing when 9 years did not seem like enough time I have thought this all too often lately. I am not naïve. I have been privy to such things for years. I know they exist. But now, left to my own devices, they haunt me. In such volume and so close to this heart of mine...I did not imagine. The truth is none of us know. What is happening. What will happen.  I should have seen the signs. I could have done more. What could I have changed? Why? Darkness is not my friend. Neither is solitude. My tears seem to cleanse what my heart wants to leak out, but it does not cleanse my mind. Not of the thoughts of what was. Not of the t...

This video shows a sad day in Arkansas as a brightly-clad crowd stood on the steps of the Arkansas Capitol Building belting out "Seasons of Love" in protest of a new proposed bill. Senate Bill 43 l in (and I regrettably say this at the moment) my home state wants to limit what they are calling "drag" performances, putting them in the same category as strip clubs and putting many restrictions on places that hold these performances. They cannot be within 1,000 feet of schools, churches, etc, and prohibits them from public property. It would also prohibit those under 18 from watching. The incredibly vague definition of drag performances in the bill keeps throwing around the term "prurient interest," which I would love to pretend I did not have to Google...but I did. Apparently, it means "having or encouraging an excessive interest in sexual matters." So there you go.  I read in another article that, somehow I suppose in an attempt to "make it b...

I recently lost my sweet Corgi that has been by my side for nine years. There is an imprint on my heart that will always be his and I have so many memories with him. The loss still stings, but he was so very loved. But, this post is not about him.  This post is about our other fur kid, Rip. Before he was my husband, my other half decided that he wanted another dog, which I had no objection to. Growing up, we always ended up with more than one dog at once so it was nothing to me. He was set on a heeler or a basset hound. I figured we would discuss and search, maybe even find someone we knew that had some puppies, and go pick them out a little while after we got married.  As usual with me, life had slightly different plans. A week or so before we got married, my husband came home with the cutest little 8-week-old blue heeler puppy.  In the midst of the stress of finalizing the wedding and the changes of moving a husband in, now we were adding a puppy. I had not had a puppy ...

"You look tired." "You look stressed." 🐦 These words were uttered twice in one week right in my general direction. I'd rather they farted .  They were followed then by "rough week?" and my favorite, "you look like you're ready for a fight." Maybe I am, Skipper...want to be next on my list? Just in case it is not well-known, the last thing anyone that is tired or stressed wants to hear is that they look as such. This type of comment is only acceptable if you are holding something to help combat that stress or exhaustion. You may not think this is a harmless comment, you may think you are being sincere. But, in reality, you are merely calling attention to something that we are already aware of, and something that we do not want to be. Do people ever stop and think before they point out the obvious that maybe there are reasons behind the disheveled look and the slumped shoulders? Maybe it is temporary....a bad night's sleep or a particu...

 You have seen us. Gathered around the show ring, leaning against the fence.  The has-beens. We may be teaching our own students the skills taught to us years ago. We may be toting around our children, holding halters and reminding them to have fun. We may be helping run the show, wanting the same experiences for youth that we had. We may just be there as spectators or in the ring as open exhibitors. Either way it comes, we are around...and those straight backs and intense stares at the judge used to be us. Just remember, one day we will all be there. We may have traded our Rockies for trouser jeans and our Fatbaby’s for Twisted Xs, but we endure. Not only do we endure, but with years in this industry comes knowledge. Knowledge and experience that can neither be imitated nor replaced. Many very late nights and very early mornings spent with family and people that became family. Losses that were hard to handle and wins that were hard fought for. Similar to the postal service, r...

R.E.S.P.E.C.T. I was talking to a fellow teacher friend of mine recently and we were reflecting on the past school year. The craziness, some funny stories, and the sheer chaos of it all. We discussed teacher shortages and how disrespectful students can be. I repeated something to her that I have said to other family and friends of mine, "when I was in high school, I would not DARE talk to a teacher the way some of these kids talk to me." My friend agreed.  She, I, and many others that I know have come to a conclusion that I am sure is not new...so many of the adolescent attitudes we are seeing, whether good or bad, stem from what they see outside of school and, more importantly, what their home lives teach them.  From what I can tell, we have a society of children, adolescents, and adults that need to listen to a little bit more Aretha Franklin. Maybe on repeat. Our pastor gave a sermon a few Sundays ago about resetting different things in our lives. One was our mouth. I defi...

 For the first time yesterday I admitted something out loud. I was tired, I had a headache, and I was ready to go home. This, unfortunately, seems to be the norm with my job lately. It started in the midst of the chaos that was a pandemic two years ago, and then carried on with the rapid fire and more chaos of trying to make up for that and accommodating all options of last school year. And now we are here again.  Tired. Tired of feeling unappreciated. Feeling like no matter what I do I am not caught up and will definitely never be ahead. Feeling like the inmates are running the asylum. Feeling like my job is 90% conflict resolution and 10% what it should be, and that's on a good day. Feeling like I am fighting an uphill battle and losing miserably. But mostly, I'm just tired. A kind of weary like there's always a weight on my shoulders or another dragon to slay around the corner.  Yesterday, out loud, I said "I could..." and then paused. On most days that phrase ...