Thursday, December 31, 2009

Learned Behavior

Learned Behavior

skinned knees - chocolate chip cookies
runny nose - chicken soup
feelings hurt - rocky road ice cream
broken heart - everything but kitchen sink
wonderful news – chinese food
disappointment - snicker bar
anxiety - lays sour cream chips
stressful day - m&ms
unending grief - box of ho-hos
long hard week - supreme pizza
self-pity – any form of potato
still in love – want to do better

Monday, December 28, 2009

December garden maintenance:


Today's One-Minute Writing Prompt: Never
Fill in the blank: "I never thought I would_________, but I did." (Feel free to explain!)

"I never thought I would feel sorry for my ex-mother-in-law, but I did."

My ex-mother-in-law is a two-faced, self-centered bitch and with the exception of my ex-husband, I have never been hurt so much by one person. This is a woman who welcomed me into her life and then kicked me out again without a second thought. Knowing her son was betraying me and keeping quiet about it was the ultimate F**k you.

I used to wish awful, horrible things on this woman because I blamed her as much as her son for the deterioration of my first marriage. I knew it was wrong to hate another person, but she betrayed my trust and it would take years for me to ever forgive. I will never forget, but I have forgiven. Especially after the unthinkable happened...

After years of wishing horrible things on this woman, her bad deeds finally caught up with her. While working alone one night, a man came into her place of business and beat the holy crap out of her.

When I found out about this incident, I felt horrible. A wave of empathy washed over me and I released my hatred for this woman. Although she is still at the top of my s**t list, now I only feel sorry for her. And I have repented - I no longer wish horrible things on other people, trying instead to "turn the other cheek."

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Lost Childhood

I spent my high school years dating only one boy. We ended up married while I was still a senior and our first child was born 3 years later. As with most marriages of very young teenagers, ours lasted only 6 years, but produced 2 of my beautiful daughters. In an attempt to exorcise the demons of my past, this poem is dedicated to my lost childhood.

(Photo from DeviantART)


Just when I should have been
having the time of my life,
I thought I wasn't complete
unless I had
that one perfect someone to call my own.
Instead of hanging out with my friends,
I was caught in the loop
of pleasing my man.
My heart would beat faster as each class bell rang,
knowing we could steal brief moments
for kissing out in the hall.
Scheduling our after school time
so we were always together,
in hindsight was probably not the thing to do,
but the excitement and joy
and tummy butterflies
were a high we both sought to obtain.

Did the good outweigh the bad?
Obviously it did because we ended up together,
at least for a short time.
The problem is, it wasn't enough
to satisfy that need we had deep down inside,
the need for something more,
something special to fulfill an aching need.
So, we crashed and burned,
down in flames in a magnificent bonfire
of heated words,
angry acquisitions,
finger pointing and
Two lives torn apart, two souls ripped asunder,
but the fallout damage affected much more
and it would be years before the collateral was known.

Looking back, the path is quiet clear,
even a child could see the course;
so why was I too blind at the time
to not see the outcome
when it was right before my eyes?
I guess love really is blind
and it has the ability to swoop in
and steal our childhoods,
give us tunnel vision,
like the quest for the Holy Grail,
tempt us with a happily ever after,
yes, love is very easy to find,
but much harder work to keep.

The Many Shades of Black

The Many Shades of Black

Barnabas Collins' cape
Patent Mary Jane's
Dead of night
Vinyl LP
Toe Jam
Garden Soil
Evil man's heart
Depth's of Mammoth Cave
Moonless night
Smokey Mountain Bear
Superstition's cat

The Keys

(Photo by Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

The Keys

The keys have locked away my heart
inside a special wrapping,
it waits alone
for the one I love
to keep it everlasting.

Cimmerian Shade

Cimmerian Shade
By Bobbi Rightmyer

At night ghosts of the past haunt my dreams calling for requital;
in the morning -
although they can't be seen -
they are always there, waiting ...

Violent clouds are not a stranger
where the wind howls in anguish and mourn for departed souls,
seeming to ask why are they dead.

Musty corridors in the manse of my mind,
lead me on a journey,
taking me to the dead world of the past.

Darkness perches all around
in seeming isolation from the world
as long shadows of fear reach out and try to touch.

Cimmerian shade has come,
forcing the hidden secrets of the past into the light.
Towers of darkness -
the symbols of mystery -
cloud the answers in adumbration.

The caliginosity stands as a dead reminder of the past
casting out eclipses into the night.
They will not die
when they reach out for another.

But the past has intruded
the darkness has filled my heart,
and icy fingers reaches out to other hearts
with a glow I cannot dispel.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

My Life According to Heart

(Drawing by my daughter, Marie Huffman)

This is a meme I did on Facebook a while back, but I never posted it here. It was so much fun to do, you may want to pass it on to your friends.

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Pass it on to 15 people you like and include me. You can’t use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It’s a lot harder than you think! Repost as “my life according to (band name).”

My Life According to HEART

Pick your Artist:
HEART (Ann and Nancy Wilson)

Are you a male or female:
"There's the Girl"

Describe yourself:
"My Crazy Head"

How do you feel:
"Crazy On You"

Describe where you currently live:
"Up On Cherry Blossom Road"

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
"Back to Avalon"

Your favorite form of transportation:
"Silver Wheels"

Your best friend is:
"Wild Child"

You and your best friends are:
"Bad Animals"

What’s the weather like:
"I Need the Rain"

Favorite time of day:
"Strange Night"

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
"Kick It Out"

What is life to you:
"The Oldest Story in the World"

Your last relationship:
"Heartless" or "If Looks Could Kill"

Current Relationship:
"This Man is Mine"

Your fear:
"Voodoo Doll"

What is the best advice you have to give:
"Tell It Like It Is"

Thought for the Day:
"I Want Your World to Turn" (just for me)

How I would like to die:
"Rockin' Heaven Down"

My soul’s present condition:
"I've Got the Music in Me"

My motto:
"All I Wanna Do is Make Love to You"

Monday, December 14, 2009

The Tadpole

I'm am proud to present the first photo of my new grandbaby - currently nicknamed The Tadpole - at 12 weeks of age. I know, not much to look at yet, but I am so excited! The Tadpole is due in June 2010, and we are hoping by December 22nd - next week - we will know if it is a girl or a boy. I really don't care what sex Tadpole is, I just want him or her to be healthy.

This is a picture of Marie, The Tadpole's mommy. Soon I'll have pix of mommy and daddy both up for you to see.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Exciting News

Exciting news! One of my non-fiction essays was chosen as a finalist in The New Southerner 2009 Literary Prize Contest! My essay - "I Dream of My Past" - will appear in a future issue of the magazine and in the 2009-2010 Anthology.

"I Dream of My Past" is a piece I wrote about my grandparents farm and the experiences I had there. After the piece has been published, I will post it here for everyone to read.
Food Friday - Homemade sage dressing for the holidays:

Wednesday, December 9, 2009



Oak leaves dance and twirl
like a brown whirlwind littering the air
as the unusual Windsday blows through.
Robins going from treetop to tree
teeter off course in the gusty gale.
Bags, napkins and other garbage
take flight to pollute other areas.
Flags snap to attention,
stiff in the cold air;
weak tree branches break and bow,
as young saplings dip to the ground.
Ladies over 60 protect tightly permed hair
with plastic rain caps,
while the under 40 crowd let their hair
blow wildly in the storm.
Garbage cans, Christmas decorations and all manner of yard art
have been gobbled up by the current
and deposited down the street.
Umbrellas turn inside out and no longer protect from the rain,
and doors are ripped wide open with the cold, wet blast.
Makes you kind of wonder if mistral gusts are meant to scare us away
or draft us closer together,
or maybe it is angel kisses from on high
giving us a whiff of what's to come.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Monday, December 7, 2009

We Are Mortal

We Are Mortal

Driven by fear and desperation,
the hours tick by
as faint whispers of panic become louder,
a suspected truth unable to be seen.

A brewing storm buffets the angry spirits,
coming out of a dim past to pound against the walls
demanding attention.
Thunder echoes with the whine of rising wind,
emptiness seems alive with a fright and tension
that builds on a single terrifying fact –
We are mortal.

Moment by moment, a tight coil of tension,
drawn to the breaking point,
seems like years which have halted the flow of time;
rooted in the walls of hearts and souls.

A instant of quiet,
the unending chill of terror,
as the hand of death brushes close;
then moves away, stirring the musty air
with a touch filled with overwhelming scents of
anxiety and dread.
My time has not come.
It's not too late to plant spring bulbs in the Bluegrass:

Friday, December 4, 2009

My Angel

My Angel

On windy days, my angel visits me
Blowing a breeze through the silver wind chimes
Reminding me to live my life freely
And not hide away from the rest of the world

On windy days, my angel visits me
Bringing me serenity with each gentle sway
Reminding to live in the present
And keep the past in the past

On windy days, my angel visits me
Whispering secrets with each little chime
Reminding me she is always near
Even though far from my sight she'll be
Food Friday - Black Walnut Bars:

Thursday, December 3, 2009

How to choose and maintain the perfect poinsettia:

A Sonic View

A Sonic View

Service berries, red and full,
continue clinging to bare branches;
water droplets from a drizzling rain
resemble ice tears
as they sparkle and brighten a dull day.

Majestic pine trees standing straight and tall,
like sentry guards
or some wayward big brother;
the striking green needles
adding texture to the dreariness.

Black walnuts gather on the ground
beneath the naked mother tree,
hulls fading from palest green
to ripened yellow-brown
promising yummy treats to come.

A lone red cedar towering over all the others,
watches over all with grandfatherly ease;
although no longer young and vital
the weathered branches continue to hold
a calm and peaceful quality.

Eye Spy

Eye Spy

Eye spy with my little eye,
a branch upon a tree,
and on this branch the multi colored lights
burning brightly for me.

Eye spy with my little eye,
a star up on a tree,
a special star to signal all,
so everyone can see.

Eye spy with my pale blue eyes,
an excitement all around,
from stores to homes with smiles and hugs
and special holiday sounds.

Eye spy with my grown up eyes
a hope for the next generation,
with freedom and hope and liberty galore
to bolster our fragile nation.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Drowning Shadows

Drowning Shadows

Sorrow creeps in,
a step at a time,
and eases its way into life;
robbing the soul,
tainting the aura,
changing the essence of happier days.
Worry, anticipation, anxiety and stress
replace the happy go lucky,
marring the image of pleasant memories,
drowning shadows of times gone by.
Why does it happen when you least expect it?
And when will it go away?
For sorrow is no friend,
when it drags you down
and invades your subconscious
without a sound.

Childhood Shadows

Childhood Shadows

The sun seemed to shine brighter when I was a little girl,
fresh dew covered grass would sparkle with the eastern rays
and a new day would dawn with excitement and daydreams.
Children were free to roam at will
with no fear of snatching or molestation,
and every stay-at-home mom would monitor
all the kids if they gathered in their yards.
Lunchtime would arrive with the rumble of tummies
and we’d fill up on sandwiches and sugar laden Kool-Aid.
Moms would try the old standby of “it’s naptime right now,”
but they’d only be lucky if we rested our eyes
before we dashed for the doors again.
No complaints of “I’m bored” or “there’s nothing to do,”
because children were able to imagine the possibilities of games to play
and exercise a vivid attention to detail.
Dusk would arrive with a flicker of fireflies,
floating on the nighttime air
and each child would dance through the grass
as they tried to catch the lights to fill up Mason jars for one night.
And pleasant dreams would always come as the children nodded off
to the tiny glow of lightening bugs in dreaming childhood shadows.
Why not choose a living Christmas tree this year?

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Ted E. Bear


The first day I saw him,
smiling at me from the shelf,
I knew he could be mine,
Ted E. Bear,
that cute little charmer
with brown fur and eyes.
I knew I was a grown woman,
long too old for childish toys,
but Ted E. was different
and I longed to hold him tight.
And once in my possession
I knew he was the right fit,
but little did I know that Ted E. had a mission.
As if by magic,
I was smiling and laughing again
and I felt like a child once more;
and I owe it all to a teddy bear my hubby bought,
Mr. Ted E. Bear, my friend.

Dark Shadows


Just a shadow of my former self,
the ticking clock moves on,
leaving behind a carefree girl
and replacing with a lonely shell.
There are echos of happiness
in the recesses of my mind,
but they are harder to find,
trapped in an ever turning loop
behind the dark shadows of time.
No more ponytails or Indian sandals,
no Chinese jumprope or Red Rover, Red Rover,
no long afternoon walks
or wild motorcycle rides,
the simple life is gone.
When your head-over-heels first time love
throws a hand grenade at your life,
the dark shadows come flowing in.
After the first time, the next are easier,
and long before you know it,
your locked away inside yourself
and each bad turn buries you deeper away
and dark shadows swallow your soul.

Monday, November 30, 2009



Hiding from the world,
sealed away by choice;
fearful of what?
Heart palpitations, cold clammy sweat,
feeling the world is out to get me,
irrational thoughts won't go away.
There's a safety in cloister
with comfort items around
in every pile of books you'll see,
offering a calm serene.
Many call it nesting,
having treasured items within easy reach,
but when this behavior continues on
and interrupts your life,
this nesting syndrome has gone too far
and a solution must be found,
only ...
rapid breathing takes over again,
and the tightness in the chest returns,
these aren't only mental ailments,
but physical manifestations,
so I hid from the world again.

Silver Trees


Silver tinsel shimmers and reflects
the multi-colored lights -
red, yellow, green, pink and blue -
a glistening holiday sight.
Although much better than trees from the past,
a silver tree is still unique
with the characteristics of its green counterparts,
but daintier, fuller, unusually pretty.
Memories of vintage 70s trees
without the retro color wheel,
no Christmas lights could be applied
and only round glass balls were allowed.
O, how the colored lights were missed,
but these trees were all the rage
and for a few holiday seasons
they were displayed with pride,
until the next fade came to town.
Things have changed in 40 years,
C9s replaced by multi-strings
and most mass produced ornaments are no longer glass,
but made from unbreakable plastic for keeps.
The new little tree is nostalgic in color and size,
but modernized to accept miniature lights
and the eclectic array of ornaments
collected from year to year.

Shadows of Requiem

(Photo by Dan Felstead of Wood and Pixels Narratives)


Tension seems endless,
torn with concern,
steep and winding,
and it twists and turns
like hidden secrets from the past.
Early morning memories are like mist,
raising vague memories of a forgotten dream.
Mysteries echo and reach out,
mysteries of a past unturned;
on the surface calm and serene,
but heavy with undercurrents
a web of confusion draws the anxiety deeper into the core
like a raised spector of yesteryear,
intruding on the future.
Unreasonable hatred can unlock
the dark corridors and musty corners,
turning the tension into a symbol of strength
to unlock the secrets of the future.

Holiday Reading

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about reading/blogging during the holidays:
How does your reading (or your blogging) fare in the holiday months? Do you read more or less? Do you have to actively make time to read?

My reading and my blogging both seem to suffer during the holiday season - there are just so many things you can fit into one day. I still carve out time to read on a daily basis, but the bulk of my holiday reading is during the weekends. I also continue to blog everyday, albeit the posts maybe short and sweet.

I also try to make time for my other writings during this time of year - poems, short stories, essays or other articles. I usually wake up an hour earlier (with the exception of this morning when I slept in) and try to do a little writing before work. I also write during my lunch hour, many times instead of eating. If I don't find time to write everyday, I feel like something is missing from my life, so writing is always near the top of my list.

The Dark Dragon


The dark dragon has me again,
clasped tightly in his steely claws.
Why does he invade my life at this festive time of year,
dragging me down to the depths of hell
where my life passes before my eyes
in a neverending stream of sorrow?
I've known the good and joyous
and my heart beats daily for my cherished loves.
I know my life is rich and blessed
and there is so much more to come,
but the dragon has other plans
and although he only owns a tiny piece of my soul,
this tiny piece can grab and hold
with determination and perseverance.
I try to be strong,
but I'm oh so weak,
so I end up in the mire,
wallowing in self-pity,
too may locked doors to escape.
I want to be free to smell the clean air
and absorb the love of my family,
but the dragon's thick hide has been transferred to me
as I sink ever deep to the pit below.
Check out the many faces of Mistletoe:

Monday, November 23, 2009

From Sprouted Acorn to Oak Tree

This is a short little poem I have written for my unborn grandchild - at this point I don't know if it is a girl or a boy, but I have used the pronoun he throughout. Please don't take this as a sign I'm wishing for a boy - I want a healthy and happy grandchild and I don't care if it's a boy or a girl.

From Sprouted Acorn to Mighty Oak
By Bobbi Rightmyer

My little oak tree
is a speciall little oak tree
and I carry him close to my heart.
Although he's just a litt spourt,
I know one day he'll be a tall and mighty oak tree.
A main stem trunk that is
true, straight and strong;
outreaching branches to touch so many souls
of the loved one in his life.
His roots will go deep
and be anchored down
with compassion, strength, history, wisdom and love;
planted to to help him grow into
the fabulous person he will become.
You are my first,
but hopefully not the last,
and although you will hold a place secure in my heart,
there is room for more to grow.
Christmas Amaryllis make a great gift for a gardener's Christmas:

Books from my Childhood

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about your bookshelf -
What books did you read while in school? Were there any that you particular liked, or even hated? Did any become lifelong favourites?

I read mostly fiction when I was in school, so I guess this is the reason I've had a life-long addiction to fiction reading. Some of my favorites in school were:

A Wrinkle in Time

The Betsy Books (B is for Betsy, Betsy's Little Star, etc.)

The Trixie Belden series

The Wizard of Oz series (the original books by Frank L. Baum)

Alice in Wonderland

Through the Looking Glass

Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret

The Three Investigators series

Little Women

The Lord of the Rings series

Most of these books I still love as an adult. When my girls were younger, these are the first books I bought for them, and although they may not still enjoy them now, they still hold a place in my heart.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Haiku in the Park

Haiku in the Park

Hedge apples fall down,
squirrels eat them up today,
Hedge apples gone now.

Sunshine breaks the clouds,
beams come down in vast array
then it's gone away.

Red-headed woodpecker
clings to tree, inclined repose;
peek, peek, peek - he's gone.

Clouds float by on wind,
fluffy elements of shape
making me laugh joyful.

Oak leaves strewn on ground,
litter with orange, red, yellow;
pretty to look at.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Check out the invasion of the lady bugs:
A great gift for the gardener on your list - Kentucky Gardener magazine:
Upcoming events at the Lexington Arboretum:

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Ode to Orange Slice Cake

Ode to Orange Slice Cake
By Bobbi Rightmyer

Although butter is no longer my friend
it is hard to resist the creamy fluff it makes
when blended into sugar so pure and so white.
The eggs combine to give more texture still,
to the all-purpose flour that forms the cake.
Yummy dates so sweet
with pecans and coconut
give an irresistible taste delight to make a mouth water.
But it is the candied orange slices that make this dessert
a heavenly, to die for treat.
Orange slice cake comes but once a year
at a time when Old St. Nick is near.

Candy Canes

Candy Canes
By Bobbi Rightmyer

Red and white swirls
shaped like a shepherd’s crook,
is this an obvious reference to
the shepherds tending their flock by night?
But when you invert this classic shape
what to my wondering eyes should I see,
just the letter “J”, a simple J
maybe to remind us of the Christ child, Jesus.
Pure white color, the exact shade of snow
or does it signify the virgin birth
purity proclaimed from on high.
And what of the red,
just another jolly color of the season,
or the blood of Christ for all to see?
Peppermint flavor with a hint of a bite,
or the occasional cinnamon taste as a change of pace,
are these just the spices used today
to replace the frankincense and myrrh of old?
And the sugar is sweet and oh so addicting
whether eaten alone or stirred in a cup of cocoa,
maybe this is a sign that God’s words are addicting
and offering an love everlasting.
Why do we need to rake fall leaves?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Fearful Shadows

Photo by Dan Felsteady of Wood and Pixel Narratives)

Fearful Shadows
By Bobbi Rightmyer

The ghosts of yesterday seem to tell me to run,
but the dark night presses in
and the fear of darkness is only for children.

The gray light of morning brings no relief
from the tension,
a night touched with a fear I’ve never known before.

Brooding on the crest of another lonely night,
the great hulk of my despair rests like a sleeping monster,
here in the darkness and dust of hidden years.

The dead drift past through the corridors of my soul
and settle like dust in the corners,
spurred by hope and surrounded by fear.

The devils of a forgotten time have found their home
and my body echoes with their pain,
winds of the past can hopefully bring answers from the future.

A strangeness that seems to reach out and touch
everyone and everything that lives in my memories;
Past can be my prison, but fears become my future.

Mary and the Manger

For this Christmas season, my writing mentor has challenged us to write a non-typical holiday story - something unusual. One of his suggestions was to write a story about Mary and the Manger - I decided to do a poem. This is an intimate look at the birth of Christ from the Holy mother and the blessed manager's point of view.

Mary and the Manger
By Bobbi Rightmyer

The day’s been long and I’m so very tired,
but there is nowhere for us to sleep.
My burden is heavy with the blessed one,
so I’ll carry on the best I can.

I’m sorry, little mother, vessel of the Holy one,
but my comfort is crudely made of wood and hay;
And although I nourish the lowly beasts,
I promise to provide warmth to the child.

An inn should be the proper place
for the birth of this precious son;
But with no room to find, no place to spare,
I’ll settle for your cozy little shelter.

O Holy night, O precious night,
my hay is clean and dry.
O blessed one, O special child,
lay down your head, don’t cry.
O God above, O Father and Spirit,
I will cradle and protect this babe.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
the prophesized child is born;
But God above took away my fears, my pain
and guided me through the night.
Now my precious child is here
and the world has one last hope.

O, what a beautiful boy, this glorious child of God;
And thou my accommodations are not grand or spacious,
they hold all the love and hope of kings.
I’ll keep him safe, I’ll keep him warm
in this stable in Bethlehem.
How to extend the growing season in the Bluegrass region:

Monday, November 16, 2009

Old Fort Park

Old Fort Park
By Bobbi Rightmyer

The trees are naked, bare
standing tall and straight.
Leaves litter the ground
like a patch worn carpet
or old rag rug
covering the still green grass
with crumples of brown.
Birds are chirping
calling out a joyful tune,
singing with happiness at the glorious day.
Squirrels are scampering
unafraid of the few lingering cars,
scavenging for food,
thick, bushy tails riding high in the air.
A car backfires on some not far street
and all is quiet as the world goes on pause,
but after a few still seconds the chorus begins,
and the wildlife sounds can be heard again.
Sunshine straining through thick, gray clouds,
warmth on my face from the hazy glare,
with a cool breeze dancing across my skin,
causing a gentle sway to the trees.
The shrubbery and hedges are still holding onto
leaves and fruit galore,
It’s that time of year again,
the rapidly approaching winter
when all life’s chores come in a fast succession,
preparing for the long, dark days
of winter yet to come.

Christmas Book Wish List

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about your bookshelf…

With the holiday season now upon us, have you left any hint – subtle or otherwise – for books family and friends might buy you for Christmas? Do you like to receive books, or do you prefer certificates so you can choose your own?

My hints aren't exactly subtle - I usually give my family a list of the books I'm wanting. I try to list them in order of my greatest "wantingness" but I'm always adding to the list, so that is sometime hard to do.

I prefer to receive books because I like for my family to inscribe them to me. It more meaningful to me if my hubby or my daughters write a little something inside each book - it's that special little touch I never get tired of.

However, if it's someone I don't see very often, I would rather have a gift certificate, just to make sure I get a book I'm really looking forward to.

Some of the books on this years Christmas Wish List:
  • The Scarpetta Factor by Patricia Cornwell
  • Dracula by Dacre Stoker
  • The Laughing Corpse (Graphic Novel, Book #1) by Laurell K. Hamilton
  • American on Purpose by Craig Ferguson
  • Angel Time by Anne Rice
  • Shadowland by Alyson Noel
  • Heat Wave by Richard Castle (Yes, I know this is a gimmick book, but I love this TV series)
  • Sookie Stackhouse 8-Box Gift Set by Charlaine Harris
  • Witch and Wizard by James Patterson
  • The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver
  • The Sandman by Neil Gaiman

Friday, November 13, 2009

Last Trip With Amy

Although my sister, Amy, is always on my mind, the month of November is especially hard because it is her birth month. Amy would have been 44 years old this coming November 19th - love ya, Sis ...

Last Trip With Amy

Pigeon Forge, Tennessee
On top of Serenity Mountain
Arts and Crafts Community
Eating candy in the Village
Elkhorn Plaza and the Best Italian Restaurant
Keith and Theodore E. Teddy
Car acting up – the alternator went out
Waiting for Joey the mechanic to fix us up
Christmas lights through Gatlinburg
Getting home – watching Almost Famous
Jacuzzi soaks and double-headed showers
Chit chats on the wrap around deck
Sleeping with abandon,
Until heading home again

Monday, November 9, 2009


Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about your bookshelf…
Does your house have a communal bookshelf? If not, is your bookshelf centrally located so everyone has access to it?

I guess you could say our bookshelves are centrally located - we have one or more in each room of the house. Yes, that includes the bathroom! My hubby, daughter and I are all avid readers, so our home is full of books.

There are currently 4 bookcases in our living room - all crammed full of mostly my books. Young adult fiction is taking up the most room, but I also have a large number of books by Kentucky authors. The bookshelf in the kitchen is really inside a cabinet and it holds all my cookbooks. We each have our own separate bookcases in our bedrooms.

Of course, with so many books, we also have them spilling off the couch and tables, as well as several piles in different corners. In my opinion, you can never have too many books!!

Monday, November 2, 2009

Sharing Books

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about social reading:
How much of your reading do you share with others (outside of blogging?) Do you belong to a book or library club? Do you trade books with friends? Do you tell others what you’re reading?

I love to share with others what I'm reading or have read. Besides having 2 book review blogs - Bobbi's Book Nook and MCPL Book Nook - I have a weekly book review column in THE HARRODSBURG HERALD and I do freelance book reviews for KENTUCKY MONTHLY Magazine. I also post my reviews on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, GoodReads, Jacket Flap, I'm Reading (Facebook) and Shelfari. I have also started a Facebook group for my book review blog, Bobbi's Book Nook (please come join me!) and I routinely link my book reviews to Facebook and Twitter.

Yes, sometimes my friends get tired of hearing my talk about books all the time! But I also have a group of friends who love to read and hear about what I'm reading, so it is for these people (and myself) that I keep ranting on about great books.

I also belong to a local book club at the Mercer Public Library in Kentucky - the Mercer Library Lunch Bunch Book Club. We meet on the 4th Tuesday of every month and typically have from 8 to 15 participants. This month we are reading THE RED TENT by Anita Diamant (a book I read many years ago and loved!) - I am rereading the book for the second time to refresh my memory. We get together at lunch time, bring a sack lunch, and spend an hour discussing our likes and dislikes of the current book. You get a wide range of perspectives because our participants range in age from 28 to 70+, plus, we have lots of fun.

Because most of my local friends are not readers, I don't usually swap books, but occasionally I will send a book to a friend far away. I'm a huge book whore, so I usually hold on to almost all of my books!

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Amy Kisses

Amy Kisses

She spoke to me like a flicker of air swept by in a dream
Gentle kisses in the ear making me feel wanted and loved;
She’s been gone so long it’s been almost five years
And yet I can still feel her in my heart.
She caresses the inner sanctity opens my wounds with a flick of her wings,
Then she smiles and says, “thank you for being there today.”
Her first grandchild she will never know, but will watch from her chair high above.
Every kiss, every prayer, every loving moment in time
Captured internally and filed away, ready to recapture the joy.
We will give her earthly love and vigor,
You will give her angel kisses;
She will grow and thrive and capture the light
Fulfilling her destiny unwritten.
She’ll have much hugged awards, atta girls, aren’t you sweet
But she’ll also have memories and history and cherishments.
Yes, we will raise her and see she does right
And she will know the grandmotherly love, though the package may seem strange
She will know the love you are giving
You don’t have to worry we will make sure she knows,
That granny’s my sis and we all miss her so,
But she’ll live in your heart and your soul.



Just when I should be having the time of my life,
I thought I wasn't complete
unless I had that one perfect someone to call my own.
Instead of hanging out with my friends,
I was caught in the loop of pleasing my man.
My heart would beat faster as
each class bell rang,
knowing we could steal brief moments, scheduling our after school time
so we were always together;
in hindsight it was probably not the thing to do.
But the excitement and joy and tummy butterflies was a high
we both sought to obtain.
Did the good outweigh the bad?
Obviously it did because we ended up together, at least for a short time.
The problem is, it wasn't enough
to satisfy the itch we both had deep down inside for something more,
something special to fulfill an aching need.
So we crashed and burned,
engulfed by flames in a magnificent bonfire
of heated words, angry acquisitions, finger pointing and screaming;
Two lives torn apart, two souls ripped asunder,
but the fallout damage affected much more,
and it would be years before the collateral was known.
Looking back the path is quiet clear,
even a child could see the course.
So why was I so blind at the time not to see the outcome
when it was right before my eyes?
I guess love really is blind and it has the ability
to swoop in and steal a childhood, give tunnel vision goals,
like the quest for the Holy Grail
and tempts us with a happily ever after.

I'm conquering my inner demons and to do that, I realize I'm going to have to revisit some painful things from my past. Sorry if the poetry/prose gets a little dark. ~~BDR

The Reviler

The Reviler

The Reviler sometimes arrive as innocently as the wings of a dove
Soft and light like the whisper of a butterfly
She loves you and makes you feel secure
Laughs at your jokes, thinks you’re something special
Pulls you in close, makes you one of the fold
When in essence it was all a false sense of security.
By the time the dagger sliced my heart in two
I was privy to the vile, ugly side of her life
I saw every canker and sore
Festering with impotent rancor at a base of self propaganda.
For a time, I was lost, only seeking the comfort to make me feel needed;
But when that phase came to an end
I hesitated but a moment
then followed again with my heart.



Delicate little blossom born into this world
Everything is open wide and laying at her precious fingertips
So many lessons to be learned, so many moments to enjoy
Ideal vessel for storing the memories of our lives
Rosy cheeks, a dimpled chin round little head and sweet little sound
Embraced in love and held close to our hearts
Eternal bond we hope never will be broken

Friday, October 30, 2009

This week's Food Friday - Hearty Pumpkin Stew:

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Jethro Tull vs. The Eagles

Did you know The Eagles wrote "Hotel California" in 1976. Ironically, they used to open for Jethro Tull in the early '70's and Jethro Tull has a song called "We Used To Know" (from the album STAND UP) which was writen in 1969. If you listen to "We Used to Know" you will see how much like "Hotel California" it sounds. I love Jethro Tull and I also love the Eagles - but it makes me wonder ....

Check it out for yourself!

It's not too late to buy a pumpkin for Halloween - check out these different varieties:

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

I'm a Great-Aunt

My niece, Ashley, just had her baby tonight - 6:14 pm. Desiree Carter weighs 7 pounds and 10 ounces and is 21 inches long. She has a head full of hair and a great set of lungs.

Because of the flu precautions at the hospital, we are not able to visit with me niece or my great niece, so I'll post pictures as soon as I can.

It's going to be so exciting - the first baby in our family for several years. The 2 youngest grandchildren are 16 and 17. We'll have a baby again for Christmas - it will be so fun. Next year, with the addition of my new grandbaby, we'll have 2 little ones for Christmas!


I have the most fantastic, wonderful news ...


My middle daughter, Marie, just told me last night and I am totally overjoyed, over-the-moon! I am so ready for grandchildren and I am looking forward to being a granny.

Of course, the baby isn't due until late June, but now I have all this time to plan. I need to get my knitting needles out and sharpened up - I'll be a knitting fool this winter!
What's growing around the Bluegrass? Amur Honeysuckle is aggressively invasive:

The Diary of Horace Wimp

This is for Christine - one of her favorite ELO songs. Thanks for all the help the past few days! I love you bunches! Mom ...

The Diary of Horace Wimp
Electric Light Orchestra - 1979
Written by Jeff Lynne

Monday - late again, today, he'd be in trouble though
He'd say he was sorry, he'd have to hurry out the bus.

Tuesday - Horace was so sad, he'd never had a girl that he
Could care for, and if he was late once more, he'd be out.


Don't be afraid, just knock on the door,
Well he just stood there mumblin' and fumblin'.
Then a voice from above said -
Horace wimp, this is your life,
Go out and find yourself a wife.
Make a stand and be a man,
And you will have a great life plan.

Wednesday - Horace met a girl, she was small and she
Was very pretty, he thought he was in love, he was afraid.

Thursday - asks her for a date, the cafe down the street
Tomorrow evening, his head was reeling,
When she said yes o.k.

Repeat chorus

Friday- Horace, this is it, he asks the girl if maybe they
Could marry, when she says gladly. Horace cries.

Sunday - everybodys at the church, when Horace
Rushes in and says now here come my wife,
For the rest of my life. and she did.

Repeat chorus

Monday, October 26, 2009

Note Taking

Today’s MUSING MONDAYS post is about note taking:
Do you take notes while reading – either for your reviews or for yourself? How/where do you make these notes (on the page, post-its, scrap paper, notebooks etc)?

I am a notorious note taker when it comes to reading books, but it's because I want to remember so many things. Although I always read for pleasure, almost all the books I read end up being reviewed. I have a separate notebook I keep all the notes from books I'm reviewing. I also am a huge fan of "sticky notes" so my books are usually crammed full of them. This helps me when I'm looking for a specific passage I want to use in a review.

When I started my book review blog over 2 years ago, it was mainly going to be a way for me to keep track of the 100s of books I read every year. However, about 6 months into blogging, the book reviews began to take on a life of their own and before long, I was receiving review books in the mail. You don't know what a rush it is for a book whore like me to come home from work and find a box of books on my doorstep!

For many, many months I accepted any and all offers to read and review books, but I quickly learned this was not going to work for me. I was getting such a wide variety of books I was overwhelmed. Although I occasionally enjoy a self-help book on certain topics, many of the books I received were just that. I was also receiving many self-published books, which there is nothing wrong with, but many of these books could do with a good editor.

I finally realized I had bitten off more than I could chew - or read - so I quit requesting every new book that came down the pipeway. Now I only review books I think I will truly be interested in and my life is much happier and not as hectic.

I am currently still on a young adult book kick - mainly series books - so I was thrilled to receive a huge shipment of books last week from Candlewick Press. I did not know about this publishing house until I read Silas House's new book, ELI THE GOOD. Out of courtesy, I always send the publisher a copy of any book reviews I do, but when I check out their website, I was amazed at the collection of books I was interested in. Now I'm like a kid on Christmas morning wading through book about glorious book, so stayed tuned for many upcoming reviews.

I also have a keen interest in Kentucky authors and I try to read all I can get my hands on. The Kentucky Book Fair is coming up November 7th and I have already started making my list of which authors I want to meet and which books I want to buy. It should be very exciting.
Many Halloween traditions started in the garden:

Friday, October 23, 2009

Wood and Pixels

If you haven't checked out my friend, Dan Felstead's, photography blog - Wood and Pixels Narratives - you really should take the time. Dan takes some of the most unusual and beautiful photographs. I like him so much because he always takes pictures of the things I enjoy looking at. Leave him a comment and tell him what you think - and check out his archive of older photos. He has never failed to inspire my muse to writing projects!

While fall pears are in season, try out this yummy Country Pear Cobbler:

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Kentucky pears are ripening all over the Bluegrass:

Wednesday, October 21, 2009


Oh, I'm so excited I may wet myself!! I was just contacted by KENTUCKY MONTHLY magazine to do a freelance article for the December/January issue! I'm on a tight deadline - 2 weeks - but I am so excited. I'll be doing an article on homemade gifts to have for unexpected gift giving. I'm going to to my Fireside Coffee, Turkey Noodle Soup in a jar, Cookies in a jar, Sugar Body Scrub and Bath Salts. I just wanted to spread the joy around!
Fall care of ornamental grasses:

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Dear World

I wanted to share this with you - it is written by my 17 year old daughter. Several months ago, an 20 month old baby from Kentucky swallowed chemicals from a meth lab and eventually died a horrible death. This is my daughter's interpretation - from the point of view of the meth lab. Chilling ...

Dear World
by Christine Rightmyer

I killed a little boy last night. In the emergency room, he kicked, and screamed, and then he just...died. Like he didn't even think about it - it was not a big deal to him. He swallowed my liquid fire from a tea cup sitting on the stove, surrounded by disinfectants and old Bic lighters. It wasn't my fault he was twenty months old. He didn't know any better and neither did I.

I can only imagine what it felt like for him, the flames traveling down his esophagus, settling in his stomach. Caress the ribcage, tap the sternum. I wonder if his heart began to beat a little bit faster before the fire hit his small intestine. The temperature began to rise, a boil starting to turn. I'll bet he started to choke and cry, spit bubbling out of his tiny pink mouth. He starts to quake, flailing against cold linoleum. Grandfather notices, before it dawns on him what exactly he has done. He stares at the tea cup face down on the floor, then at his grandson, who is no longer shaking.