Samhain Knocks

Samhain Knocks

Dust and Bone
Who warmed this hearth
And Built this home
Every cell holds their history

Blood of generations
Made a memory palace
Of my heart
Their stories whisper in the dark
The past lives forever
While we remember


LM 2017

*Thanks for reading. If you want to read another poem to put you in the mood for the Autumn weather, check out my poem, October.


Another Mothers Day Blog

20170329_173218I don’t have the spoons to write a big Mother’s Day blog this year.

Mother’s Day is one of the rough ones for me. Honestly, ALL of the, “in your face commercialized holidays” are rough when you have painful family issues. It’s probably just as well, I’m still recovering and slept through the whole day. I missed most of the cheery, teary sugar and schmaltz and that’s just fine with me.

Some people I know and care about lost moms recently. Some have mothers who had health scares or were in the hospital this year. I want to send extra love to those who are missing their mothers and to those for whom Mother’s Day has extra meaning because they weren’t sure there mother’s would be here this year.

As always, I want to acknowledge those for whom Mother’s Day hurts because their relationship with their mother is/was difficult, terrible or absent. I want to acknowledge those mother’s who pulled out all the stops to love and protect their child but lost them anyway through death, drugs, mental illness or just emotional distance. I want to shout out to all the heroic parents who have had to be both Mom and Dad to their kids. And I want to give a big hug to all those Moms whose kids happen to be furry, feathered or scaled. You aren’t less than because you chose to nurture a pet rather than pop out a hooman. You have your reasons. It’s cool. Maternal love doesn’t discriminate.
Stand in Mom’s who were that positive support or maternal figure in the lives of many kids (and adults) who were missing what they needed; to you I give enormous respect. YOU are the lifesavers! Jennifer and Jolene‘s mama, JoAnn was this to me. I could not have survived my childhood without her. She fed me, let me tag along on family adventures, she tolerated my weirdness, she let me spend hours and hours away from home. I’m quite sure we drove her crazy sometimes. I practically lived at the Norton house for much of my childhood and it was a sanctuary. As an adult, I’ve been lucky enough to have several friends who also rocked the mom vibe with me because they just ooze compassion and maternal instinct. Cheryl, Jean, Linda and Libby come to mind. *blows big kisses* If you have had a good mother and also, stand in mamas in your life, you are doubly blessed!
To the almost parents, I know how difficult this day can be, whether you have gone on to have kids or not. I was an almost parent and oddly, this year, I’m going through a numbness, instead of that twinge of grief. Maybe it’s because I’ve had a little time but maybe it’s because it would have been nearly impossible to raise a kid in my current situation. Losing a child you are pregnant with or one you wanted to adopt are very complicated situations to process. So is losing a child for any reason at any age. There’s no right way or wrong way to do it.
To those who desperately want to be parents but haven’t been able to do it for whatever reason, I wish you comfort. I also wish that those of you who are so set on popping a kid out of your own womb with your own genetic material would stop spending so much money and shedding so many tears and just adopt. But if you won’t, I pray that you are really good parents when you finally get your wish.
And most of all, I wish that Mothers would not be treasured just because they are Mothers, but that they would all earn these accolades. I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you to live up to what a mother should be as best you can; a person who loves, nurtures, supports, protects and guides their child. A good mother, in my opinion, does not have children and make their existence all about her or try to force them into her idea of the kids she wanted. She realizes that sometimes you can do all those things and still feel like you failed.She realizes that you don’t always get what you expect, you work with what you have and love them anyway. And sometimes that love means letting go in many different ways. 
Motherhood is complicated. Our feelings about it are complicated. You can’t serve it breakfast in bed, slap a card on it, give it flowers and platitudes and think you’ve done it justice. It’s also not sacred. Many people are victims of Motherhood, whether it’s the child whose mother had unrealistic expectations, or had a mother who struggled with mental illness, addiction, poverty or simply as dealt more than she could handle or the child whose mother was a monster.
So, lavish the praise on your mother if she’s earned it, but don’t heap guilt on those who had a different experience. And please be gentle with those who are having trouble with this day, whatever their reason.
I am so very happy for the friends out there who have benefited from the love of a mother who made them feel supported and cherished! I am so grateful for all those mother figures in my life and to look around and see mothers who are doing right by their kids right now. I stand in awe of all the friends I see being amazing parents every day despite their challenges. I have many of them, which means, many kids who are growing up with a better outlook than I had. I hope all of you enjoy this special day. Even more so, I hope all of you feel appreciated and loved all year round. It’s the days that don’t have a spotlight on them that mean the most.
Oh hey, I wrote a blog after all. Oops.


An aFIRmative thread About Christmas Trees


What inspired this little pun fest: Up in Northern California, I saw nice 5′ trees for sale for $20, way less than the Bay Area that’s for certain. My housemates won’t go for a Christmas tree and I’ll be traveling most of the month anyway, but I sure wished I could have brought one home! Even though this is not about food, I think that Hannah Hart and Mamrie Hart who are certainly Pun Champions would get a big kick out of this!

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ME: Christmas trees are inexpensive here. It wish I did have a little apartment up in this area. I am.sort of PINE-ing for it.


ME:  Oh  you just couldn’t resist needling me could you? You gotta love seasonal hilari-tree

D.H.: Lol!!!!

D.S.: I’m so board of wooden jokes like this. Can’t you all just leaf well enough alone?

ME:  Sorry, I conifer not to. Sometimes my sense of humor needs to branch out a bit.

D.S.: Aw heck, Lorelei, you’re no sap – I was just needling you a bit.

The Dark Christmas Spirit



How appropriate, Hope pondered, that on the day with the shortest amount of light, the darkness should hit her like the door of a tomb slamming shut, the echoes sounding deceptively final. Every year she braced herself for the void the season reminded her of. For a few days, she had been feeling so good that she thought she might escape the blackness, but instead it had blindsided her with an exceptionally hard knock.

This year’s unwrapped gift of depression contained so many things she had not wanted and probably didn’t deserve. Loneliness. The excruciating pain of realizing she loved someone she could absolutely not be with. The bitter edge of the cold.

The accumulation of losses and disappointments led her to spend the night driving along country roads, winding slowly through the darkness for hours little salt streams staining her cheeks. As she took in the beauty of the moonlit trees, the reflected eyes of animals in the brush and the small noises that interrupted the hush of other’s sleep, her mind wandered to the something that had never appealed to her. She wondered about the lure that prompts sad people to make the choice to climb over the railing of a wind whipped bridge and jump into the blackness. She had read that the impact was massively bone shattering.

The irony was sharp, that someone could survive plummeting into the water from a great height and instead of ending their suffering, find themselves more injured then before. She wondered if such survivors found the resulting physical devastation had eclipsed the emotional/mental anguish that prompted the desperate self inflicted violence in the first place. She knew she could never do something so dramatic.

She also knew she would probably survive this wrestling match of heavy shadow but she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She wasn’t sure she cared about anything but stopping. If only she could figure out a way of releasing herself from this prison that wouldn’t hurt so many others. If only she could sleep through the winter, hibernate like a bear. She might dance between forcing herself to go to social functions and retreating to solitude. She would plod through her obligations with diligence, of that much she was sure. She was always dependable. She would put on a believable smile. She would go through the pretense of joking and flirting like a cat hiding a trauma.

When the day came she would act as if there was nothing special about December 25th that set her and others who lacked the connection of some kind of family to share it with. There was no particular humbug here, there was just no Christmas. It was a fact of her life. But being Hope, she wanted to believe that it might not be this way forever.

-LM 2013

The holidays are difficult for me for a whopping variety of reasons. I also knew a good number of people going trough a particularly dark time right now. Because I believe that the only way to get through a dark night is to push through to the dawn, I wrote this piece and posted it. Some people responded with gratitude, some of my friends expressed concern. I had to post the following disclaimer:

FYI People: I am not planning to jump off a bridge. Yikes, it’s not that bad and it’s just too cold. Besides I have kitties to take care of and awesome New Year’s Eve parties to attend.

When I post things if I am quoting someone else I usually use quotation and usually note the source.
If I am making a statement or rant that is my own original thought and content, there are generally no quotes.
If I am posting a piece of my writing, a fragment of a story, essay, poem or lyric I almost always remember to put my initials, LM at the end. While these things often contain autobiographical elements or tinges of things I am going through that does not mean every word is true.

But thanks for your concern. I appreciate you checking in.



PS: If my writing touches people or makes them think I am grateful.