Archive for happiness

Thinking of Mexico

Posted in story with tags , , , on November 22, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

Another short story from the archives ….

Thinking of Mexico

A cacophony of noise rumbled around the small area, everything from the cluster around the pool table to a few random knots of people ‘covertly’ glancing at those in other groups. The lighting was dim, except for a few neon signs here and there. The mirror behind the bar reflected the stories of another day. It was pretty much the same tapestry every night; all the other things can come either as bonus, or disappointment.

“You want ‘nother Sunrise?”

“No, I probably should be getting home.”

“Family waitin’ on you?”

“Just three obnoxious kids and an unappreciative significant other. Let’s not forget old Buddy-dog with a bladder control problem.”

“You don’t wanna another drink? I’d be drinkin’ the whole night if I had that waitin’ for me!” A bar rag swiped across the counter, chasing the stains.

“If I could lose myself in sweet Sunrises, I’d be swimming by now. A crumpled ten spot drops on the counter. “But, may the good Lord help me, sometimes I still love the mess called home.”

“Ever think of just getting’ out, just packin’ and leavin’?

“Every time me and Brawny are picking up another puddle.”

He chuckles, picks up the wadded bill. The cash register sings its tune and receives its prize.

“Say you pack up, no regrets, no guilt. Where’d you go?”

“Some place warm like Arizona, sunny Southern California, Mexico … Somewhere to get out of this god-awful weather for sure.”

“Gets to a person don’t it?” Nothin’ but dark, grey, ugly sky. Mexico sounds nice … I’d love to have a bar down there on the beach.  Dazzling women wearing next to nothin’ asking for drinks. Me a flirtin’, them leaving big tips. Man … That would be nice!” The bar towel traces three circles around an adjacent peanut bowl.

“Beachside. That sounds real good! I can feel the rays splashing on my skin, the water tickling my tootsies, and the drinks being brought out to me nonstop. Let’s not forget the cabana boy.” She glances at the vintage Budweiser clock on the wall with the Clydesdales which reads 5:45. “I guess I have time for one more. I’ll just say I had to work late. Not that dinner would be waiting for me or anything like that.”

“Ain’t that the truth.  Comin’ home to a home cooked meal, not some boxed food comin’ out of a microwave.  People just don’t know how important that is no more. Last time I had home cookin’ was when Mom died three years ago!”

“Anytime I get a home cooked meal is when I cook it myself. Even on Mother’s Day. Everybody has their excuses why they can’t do it. Yeah … Mexico does sound nice. Hand ground tortillas filled with fresh beef, homemade salsa and garden fresh veggies. Someplace where the family appreciates all that you do for them”

“At least you have a place with a family to not appreciate you. I go home to a dead house.”

The bar towel finds a resting spot over his shoulder as he saunters down the bar to serve two suits that just sat down. She swept the ends of her side bangs over her ears, and watches the proceedings reflected back in the mirror. On his way back he fishes in the peanut bowl and fishes out a few.

“In Mexico I wouldn’t have to listen to the kids whine that they don’t have the latest X-Box game, or that they can’t find anything to wear. Or the dog barking at its shadow, or not making it outside in time yet again.” The tête-à-tête continues as though there has been no break. That would all be drowned out by a Mariachi band, or perhaps Jimmy Buffet, and the waves crashing on the white sands.”

“You’d have the sand and the sea, palm trees and sunshine. None of this concrete, insane traffic or crappy weather.”

“No flipping deadlines, no 8 to 4:30, no business lunches to wear a smile to and listen to the same lame jokes, no little league mothers, no grumpy ass husband. My toughest decision would be to wonder which sunscreen level to wear with each swimsuit.”

“There would be fresh ocean breezes to inhale ‘stead of stale cigarette smoke, there would be these fire tiki torch things ‘stead of neon lights.”

Sighs echo, the now quiet jukebox is changing songs, the only sound the thwack of the nine ball zipping towards the corner pocket. They exchange glances …

“We could do it don’t cha know.”

“Do what?”

“Well … You got the business know-how, I got the bar know-how. We could take all the money in this till and make a dash for Mexico. It would take less than two days.

“That would make for one hell of a road trip wouldn’t it? No looking back until the Mexican stars are over our head, and Mexican sand under our feet.”

“How ‘bout ‘La Cucaracha’?”

“Why name the place after a cockroach? That can’t be good! Eew!”

“How ‘bout ‘’Livin’ La Vida Loca’?”

“That has a good ring to it.” She gave a laugh that left champagne bubbles and giggling thoughts in its wake. An audio work of art.

“Leave behind the arguin’ kids, the sexless nights, the pissin’ dog. Leave it all behind!”

*sigh* Walks on the beach under a full moon …”

“Homemade food every night.”

“Sounds good don’t it?”

Very good!

The jukebox and erupting cheers fill the silence. A few more bills find their way to the counter. She glances over at him, looking at him critically as he prepares a round for those at the pool table.

“Nah this ones on me.” A pause … Then a sigh to expel the thought. She looked at the floor, half expecting the dark wood to have an answer. “No … My husband would kill me if I left him with the kids. I guess that I probably would MISS them too.”

“Kinda grow on ya huh?” The towel folds into a neat square. “Well I understand.”

”You always do.” She scooches of the stool, reaches to up her purse and jacket, and turns to head towards the door. “Same time next week?”

“You know where to find me love.”

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Perfect Parts

Posted in odds and ends, quote(s), thoughts with tags , , , , , on November 11, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

A really cool quote I found along the way, which in retrospect is so very true …

“Life’s not perfect, but there are some perfect parts in it.”

                                                                                    ~ Author Unknown strikes again

 

Thank God for those!

 

 

Do It Anyway

Posted in Christian, Christianity, Philosophy, poem, quote(s), scripture, thoughts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

I got this poem off my ex-wife’s Facebook of all things! It is something I have to take to heart for sure and just wanted to share it with you all!

Mother Teresa wrote this poem –

People are often unreasonable,
illogical and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind,
people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful,
you will win some false friends and true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank,
people may cheat you;
Be honest anyway.

What you spend years building,
someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness,
they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today,
people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have,
and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis,
it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

Read more at Mother Teresa Poem : Do It Anyway

The Waterfall That Sings

Posted in odds and ends, Photography, scripture with tags , , , , on September 10, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A “secret place” I happened across. Here is Henline Falls, located in the Santiam Foothills by the Cascade Mountains in Oregon. The streams of these falls run a different volumes and together they sound like an ethereal chorus! I found the trail to these falls quite by accident, and alas alone, but next time I have to bring someone special with me yo enjoy the beauty and sounds of this wonderful area!

Psalm 42:7 NASB “Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me.”

Carly’s Violin

Posted in odds and ends, story with tags , , , , , , on July 1, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&section=&global=1&q=violin#/d1hd900

Another short story I did for lasts years fiction class ….

Carly’s Violin

The wise, ancient, musky scented wood felt velvety against her pale cheek. How it glistens and gleams. Hollows like windows into the soul. Who owned that violin? Whose hands slid, who admired the body like you? Like strings, it can respond to a single touch, playing out the notes you desire to hear. The violin can scream and whisper in crescendos, and for your great amusement, it sings high, low, every note in between.

She ran her thin fingers over the grooves and indentations, as if she was following a map to her destiny. In many ways she felt as though it was … Her muse and her meaning. Each string was plucked once with careful precision, checking for clear, clean tone, which called out to her very soul. It was perfect. The girl inhaled, pausing in that essential moment before the fragile strings of the bow make contact with the instrument below. The two were like temperamental lovers, and she brought them together to make magic, and the sweet music was born.

The world was lost in the moment. Half notes, whole notes, quarter, eighth, sixteenth notes. Unlocking hearts she plays, her fingers shifted around the neck, shimmering and shaking. Her eyes were closed, and to anyone who looked upon her, she appeared as a angel. As the music trembled into silence, she was surprised to see a young man standing so close. With a reluctant smile, he held out his hand.

In a moment the violin was in his hands. The girl stood behind the boy, pressing his soft, powerful fingers against the hard strings, molding his opposite hand around the wood bow. Momentarily the staccato, col legno, vibrato, crescendo were mastered with magical hands. She breathed with him, moving together to create that special moment. The music burned between them, and special it was. They had not experienced anything like it.

The boy surrendered the violin back to the girl, his face elated even as tears formed in his eyes. Quietly he reached into the depths his pocket, and dropped a few coins into the ragged fedora on the sidewalk.

“Please, play on.”

And so the girl did …

A Small Thank You to the Creator

Posted in Photography with tags , , , , on May 20, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

There are those times where you just have to sit down and thank the Creator for blessing you for living in Chiloquin, Oregon, so close to so many awesome sights. This was one of those times!

A little bit of awesomeness to make your day a little brighter …

Posted in odds and ends, quote(s) with tags , , , on March 10, 2011 by Tim R Wilson

“If you can’t avoid it, enjoy it!”
SEOK-JOO KIM, PhD student


{A little bit of awesomeness to make your day a little brighter}