Posted in Poetry

Rainy Mornings

Rainy Mornings.
© 2016 LC

Outside the rain falls.
The birds sing beautiful songs.
In the morning light.
Rain washing away the old.
Anything is possible.

Posted in Life

Bad Experiences

Bad experiences stick with you. 

Last week, I had a terrible experience. I know it shouldn’t in any way influence how I feel at this moment, but when I have a bad experience with people I feel let down. Like they should have been nicer. Or more helpful.

When I go out, I try to be helpful. I open doors for people. I say, “Hello. Have a good day, etc.”

I think of how I would act in any given situation. If it were me behind the counter. Or on the other end of the phone. I try to have respect, and courtesy.

The whole ordeal started over my son’s medication. The problem— he was quickly running out. So I called his doctor’s office with NO return phone call.

The next day I called, again. I talked to the same person. She took the message, but still NO return phone call. Communication in this office is non-existent. I hate it, but the doctor is excellent.

The next day I called, again! We tracked him down to another office on Thursdays. A half an hour away, but he would be in according to the other office.

My son would be out of medication that morning. Okay. Called over that morning. Not in until after lunch.

I waited patiently. Offices have lunch anywhere between 12 and 1. He didn’t come in until 1:30.

I told the not-so-friendly healthcare professional I was on the way. My son was out of medication and I would need to try to get home because my kids had no one to retrieve them from the bus. He usually writes the script, and we leave.

I stressed this situation was NOT my fault. We scheduled the appointment when we were told, I had no idea his medication would run out before our appointment.

He can’t go to school without it. He cannot focus. Can’t control his impulses. It’s difficult for him.

“I will leave a message. He might be able to do that for you. But I can’t guarantee it will be right when you come in.” She screeched in my ear.

I told her I could wait. How long does it really take to print something. Honestly?

When your kid is out of the medication they need, it is pretty damn important they receive it.  I was getting his freaking medicine.

So I get there right after lunch. Walk right up to the window to this smug “healthcare professional.” I do everything I possibly can to be nice to her. Feed her compliments on her jewelry.

I know… I know.. I did need something, but it was a sincere compliment.

Little did I know behind her smile, she was going to be a bitch. She was just going to go about it in a nice way. Telling me to screw off as nicely as possible.

I relayed to her the situation. Told her the other office sent me there for the script. Asked if she needed to see my ID since that was an issue at the other office. She said it wasn’t a problem because she already made up her mind she wasn’t helping me.

“Hmm. Well, the doctor is booked. I don’t know you could sit here and TRY to catch him, but I can’t guarantee that he would have time for you. I could take your number, and he could call you?

“Your son doesn’t have his medication. Yeah, I do see where that could be a problem, but it’s ONLY for a few days. I do see he has an appointment on Monday. You could catch him then.”

She looks up at me from her cushy chair. Of course, she doesn’t want to do anything. She is stuffed from lunch. It is a beautiful day. Who wants to do any work, right? Who wants to actually help someone who needs it!

I probably looked like a bum because I ran out last minute. I didn’t care what my hair looked like. Or my make-up. I threw on a hoodie, and some old jeans. My kid needed my help! How I looked–should not have mattered. If that was the case?  She should have done something!

We basically had a stare down, and finally  “I don’t know what to tell you” came. I was so mad. Becoming red in the face really isn’t my thing, but it was today. I wanted to throw her in the fountain in the lobby. Mentally, I did.

I left deflated. I called my husband. Telling him I couldn’t see or talk to the doctor. They told me I couldn’t. Absolute bullshit.

He called the other office. My husband is the problem-solver. I don’t know what he says, but he manages to fix things.  I am too nice.  I don’t usually swear. I can defend myself when I need to, but I don’t like conflict. I tend to avoid it.

When he called back, he had it resolved. The lady from the other office, who never returned my phone call from Monday, called the doctor’s cell phone, and said he was printing them now.

They were upset with how I was treated. Script was ready. Problem-solved!

All I had to do was walk back up the stairs to retrieve the script. Easy enough. I decided I wasn’t going to take any shit.

I walked up the stairs. Avoiding the fountain. Still frustrated to deal with these people. I walk up to the nurses station asking for my son’s script. Avoiding the first “healthcare professional.”

I walk way over to the third one, she doesn’t have it. She asks someone else if they have it, and they don’t. The first one chimes in with her smart mouth. Defensively, I have to relay what I have been told. They have called his cellphone. Now she shuts up.

They can’t find the script. So they have to disturb the doctor “who is really busy.” Except he isn’t. She lied to me.

He comes out of the room because the script didn’t print. I apologize profusely for the mix-up.  You can tell he is upset.

The office is total chaos. I wouldn’t want to work here. They are a bunch of cackling hens.

She asks me if I have my ID. I replay my earlier conversation with the first “healthcare professional” because now my purse is in the car. I don’t have it.

She denies we ever had the conversation. I am now a liar, too. Except there is only one real liar here. 

They don’t want to give me the script. However, my son’s doctor– my hero–comes around the corner handing me the script. I leave letting them battling it out.

I left worried my son’s doctor would be mad at me. I didn’t care about the women in the office. Though when we went to see him this past Monday, he wasn’t mad at us at all. He said I had to do what was best for my son, and whatever it takes. That was a relief! 

Sometimes I find it is hard to do the right thing when everyone else seems to be doing wrong. I could have easily been as rude to her as she was to me. I could have cussed her out. I could have told them she was lying about what she said about me so maybe she got into trouble.

But I find it’s not worth it. What good does it do? How does it make me any different than they are? I don’t want to act like that.

I want to help people. If someone needed their medication, I would help them. I know what it is like to be without, and it stinks.

I don’t understand why a “healthcare professional” would act in such a way.  Isn’t that why they choose their profession? To help people?

If you have a job you love, it isn’t a job. If you hate your job so much, why are you there? It isn’t fair to make other people suffer because you hate your job. 

In the end, I can say I responded in a positive way. I was not rude to any of them. I was patient. I was nice. I didn’t lose my cool. Or throw anyone into fountains.

I apologized to my son’s doctor for the inconvenience, which wasn’t our fault, and he understood. Better than I thought he would. I worried for nothing.

I think when we are put into these situations though they are stressful they help us grow as a person. I might have flipped out before, and I might have felt better because I vented. But I would have felt horrible on the inside for it. I have grown since then, and I continue to grow.

I think we can help other people grow too in how we respond to them.  If we don’t respond to them with the same criticism and negativity, maybe we can teach them something about being human.

We don’t have to be mean and ignorant like they are. We can be different!


“Never respond to an angry person with a fiery comeback, even if he deserves it…Don’t allow his anger to become your anger.”

Bohdi Sanders

Posted in Blogging, Writing

Day Three: Writing Challenge

Write About Someone Who Inspires You.

Inspire– To Fill With the Urge or Ability to Feel or Do Something. Possibly Creative.

Just when I thought yesterday was difficult– today is even more challenging. I have been thinking about this question for a couple of days.

I can think name a few things off the top of my head that are inspiring— music, reading my Bible, quotes, movies, and even enjoying time outside can do the trick. However, I cannot say I have just one person who inspires me.

I am a person, who has more than one favorite, even though my husband says, “It isn’t possible to have more than one of a favorite thing. Or it’s NOT your favorite.” I say differently. Why can’t a person be passionate about a few things??

With that being said– someone(s) who inspire(s) me.

My grandmother makes the top of my list.

I write about her often. Though she is gone, I still remember everything about her. The time we had together could never be enough! I wish I could have learned more from her. She had an amazing life story, and boy could she cook!

The way she lived spoke volumes about her faith. She loved her family, and God. She took care of all of us even when she wasn’t well. Hardly ever complained. Except when we went out to eat and her chopped steak wasn’t quite right, she did complain about that!

Nanny was a lot of things. A farmer. A house-keeper. A sister. A wife. A mom. A cook. A story-teller. A baker. A writer. She lived on a big ranch. Had seven siblings. Was afraid of storms. Lived through the Great Depression. Didn’t trust the bank so she kept her money at home. Lost both of her parents young. So eventually she made a family of her own. When she did she was protective of her children, and those she grew close with.

With my mom and my grandmother being close, my grandmother and I established a close bond. She grew protective of me. She told me stories until I fell asleep, and played Hungry, Hungry Hippos with me. Took me to church and colored with me. Nanny was awesome.

As I grew older, I didn’t appreciate her sometimes excessive protective streak stifling my freedom. But I do now, I wish I could tell her that. I wish I could tell her how much her loving me in the way meant to me. Sure she nagged me A LOT, but it was only because she loved me, worried about me, and wanted to see me succeed in life.

“You are going to go to hell for listening to that music! You need to go to church!” She would yell.

I laugh remembering it. It seems like yesterday blasting “Insane in the Membrane” in my downstairs bedroom.  I do feel bad. I tormented her on occasion because she tormented me. Guilt still pangs me to some degree. I know I was a “teenager”, and she knew that. I know NOW it’s what teenagers do. She seemed to strongly dislike some of my friends. Again, I understand now. Then, I didn’t.

She and my mother tried giving me advice about my friends, but I never wanted to listen. As a teenager, you never want to consider your parent’s advice about whether or not your friends are truly your friends. You wouldn’t think they would ever stab you in the back. Especially when you are thick as thieves. Lesson learned. Parents can be right. Keep your friends close, your enemies even closer.

Eventually I had my son and they became close in the same way. Then, a stroke came and took her speech. I’d never talk to my Nanny, again, without her being frustrated. However, my Nanny was still in there fighting. I could tell toward the end she was growing tired. She did not give up though. Her fire burned bright until the very end. She held on until my daughter was born.

So I guess if I could be like anyone it would be my grandmother because she kept fighting, she always found a way, and she had such intense faith– that is inspiring. Her intense devotion to God and family always shined brightly no matter what happened.

Two– People Who Are in Pain.

These people are the ones who get out of bed everyday hurting. They put a smile on their faces, and go about their day like nothing is wrong. It may be depression, chronic pain, or another underlying disease/disorder. However, these people put their families, significant others, or their own well-being first by continuing their day the best they can with a positive attitude.

When they struggle and they do, they know when to rest. These people are strong. It is hard when no one understands how you feel. It is difficult living pain, managing pain, and just trying to make it through another day.

Not every day is sunny. And you don’t always feel like smiling when you are hurting on the inside. Pain steals parts of their life away, although, they are reluctant to let go so easily! They fight for another day!

Small victories should be celebrated. When a person with a disability is able to do something they couldn’t because of their pain, it is reason to celebrate! Tomorrow is a new day…

If you know someone with a chronic pain disorder or mental illness such as depression the best thing to do is educate yourself so you can better understand them. Awareness helps us to understand what we cannot see, and become more compassionate people.

You never know what a person may be dealing with on the inside. Think about how you would want to be treated.

Three- Craig Groeschel

Who is Craig Groeschel? You may never heard of him. He is a preacher at Life.Church

I love listening to his messages, and he is funny. The messages make you think, and thinking is good. Right?

Have to find some way to feed that soul.





Posted in Poetry

Be the Fountain. Not the Drain. Poem.

Be the Fountain. Not the Drain.

©2016 LC

“Be a fountain,”

they say, “not a drain.”

For it does no good,

to complain.


Life will pass you by,

If you can’t learn to think positively.

All the negativity–

sucks the life out of me.


Look how the hate spreads like wildfire.

Though we can learn to love, again.

To respect each other.

Agree to encourage. Be friends.


The world can be a crazy place to live.

Fill your thoughts with hope and cast the shadows away.

Hold on tightly to your dreams, dear one!

Every day we wake up is the beginning of a brand new day!


This poem was inspired by the quote it was stuck in my head all day so I thought I’d try to write a poem about it. However sucky it turned out, I followed through with writing it.

Thanks for reading,




Posted in Blogging, Writing Classes



It’s summer! My children are out of school, and along with that presents some challenges with finding time to write.

I thought I started into a good routine ending my last class. Felt positive going forward. Then, it seemed everything hit the fan again here at home.

I can’t seem to stay interested in my writing class. I think it’s half my trouble. My last instructor was so encouraging, and inspiring.

The one I have now she’s nice and does encourage; however, at times, she seems to give everyone the same generic response. Blah, blah, blah.

Every time I sit down to the computer with the intention to write, I find myself becoming lost in social media. Or finding chores I need to do. I will sign in to my class, ho-hum around to see what is going on, lack of interest sets in, and I’m gone.

I’m restless…

I turn on the radio, and cannot find a song to satisfy me. I’ll constantly switch channels on Pandora. I sit down without knowing what I want to do, really. Watch a movie?  Nah!

Get back up, clean, de-clutter, and do some laundry. I have books on my kindle. I start reading them to quickly become uninterested in the plot for whatever reason. Has anyone read anything good?

Eventually, I suppose I will write something good. I fell too far behind in my one course to catch up. I will take it again at some point. It’s with my instructor I’ve taken a few courses with, and provides encouragement/feedback. She will understand.

I’m looking forward to my upcoming writing classes. I hope my writing instructors are as good as this one. I’ve learned so much from her!

Posted in Writing Classes

Going Great!

Happy to say my writing class is going great! I think I may have made it out of my block! It feels good to be writing again.

The assignments are challenging, but it’s alright. Life has been busy as usual. I’ve made time. I’m learning to adjust in light of everything.

I’ve been networking within my class. Reading more about writing. Dialogue in not my thing. It needs tweaking.

I know if I hit another block, I will do these things in the meantime. I will be alright.

I’ve learned lots of things can get in the way of your writing. The stress of life, illnesses, emotional turmoil, and well.. anything. It can zap your creativity right out of you! Doesn’t mean you aren’t a writer. For that short time, you may not have all of your juices flowing.

Time management was big for me. I don’t know if I mentioned that before. Being right-brained I tend to hate any routine. I get bored. Distracted easily.

When I had trouble with my assignments, I rearranged my desk. I made folders for the bills laying here in heaps (medical bills). I straightened things under my desk where I have my recipes. I truly believe clutter zaps some of your energy as well.

I WILL be posting more frequently. You might be laughing, but really I will.

“Life has no victims. There are no victims in this life.

No one has the right to point fingers at his/her past and blame it for what he/she is today. We do not have the right to point our finger at someone else and blame that person for how we treat others, today.

Don’t hide in the corner, pointing fingers at your past. Don’t sit under the table, talking about someone who has hurt you. Instead, stand up and face your past! Face your fears! Face your pain! And stomach it all! You may have to do so kicking and screaming and throwing fits and crying- but by all means- face it!

This life makes no room for cowards.”

~~ C. JoyBell C.

Don’t Be A Victim.