Nope, I was not around these parts on December 5 of 2015. As a matter of fact, I didn’t hit the WP blog scene until 2016 when I made it my hobby and healthiest way to fill my empty nest.
So “miss” is new to me.
Well, it’s not, but we’re going to pretend it is.
We’re going to have an early Father’s Day for B since Lulu will be with her father-in-law Frank tomorrow. She didn’t want to miss celebrating her daddy though.
As we always have, B and I never make her choose. We believe every day is special. Or at least it should be. We just pick another day to have our festivities. That way we never miss out. We create other experiences instead.
And this one will be a doozy — it’s already shaping up. Last night I made a blueberry cobbler. I also made coleslaw and tartar sauce from scratch. We’re gonna fry up the catfish that B caught himself. I mean come on y’all. It doesn’t get any better than that.
As always, more to come.
Written for #SoCS 6/20/26. Thanks for hosting Linda. The rules and pingback are here.
Hello my lovelies. I hope you are well. If I planned this right, I’m on the open road again. Lulu and I are road tripping to ATX.
For the main event, we’re prompted with guest. All I could think of was Beauty and the Beast. That’s it, my stream stopped. My overthinking is still going but nothing coherent. Guess I’ll post the clip then say farewell for now.
Written for #SoCS: Guest. Thanks, Linda for hosting. The rules and pingback are here.
P.S. Up top, breaking rules. My fortune right now. Ha! See y’all, Willow was right!!
Happy Saturday y’all, time to get our stream on.
Is it a coincidence we’re back here again? What are the odds? Maybe we should all play the lottery.
I don’t believe in coincidence. Everything happens for a reason. Even when we don’t like the reason or don’t understand it until much later.
Then again, I think that’s the human brain at work, trying to make sense of things that are nonsensical. We put labels on everything to try to control and understand it.
I, for one, am exhausted by it.
So I’m trying a new less-is-more approach to my overthinking madness. I’ve got health issues to concentrate on, yet I’ve kept myself busy thinking about everything else.
Maybe that’s a coincidence? I think not.
As always, more to come.
Written for #SoCS June 6, 2026. Thanks LG for hosting. The rules and pingback are here.
I suppose I should care more about impressing people. Wear the right thing. Say the right thing. Smooth out the rough edges and make myself more palatable.
But here’s the thing: I spent far too many years trying to be the perfect daughter, then the perfect student, then the perfect employee.
I learned the hard way that I couldn’t be the perfect wife or mother, either. But still, I thought I had to be perfect.
Useful. Grateful. Easy to love.
Because somewhere deep inside was the fear that if I wasn’t good enough, I might get put back on the shelf.
So I performed. I achieved. I impressed.
These days, I’m less interested in impressing people and more interested in being myself.
I wear what I like. I write because I need to. I show up as who I am—flawed, funny, awkward, healing, human.
If that impresses someone, great.
If not, that’s cool too.
Now for a song. 🎶
The Impression That I Get
Written for #SoCS: Impress. The final for May 2026. Thanks, Linda for hosting. The rules and pingback are here.
The beauty of Stream of Consciousness Saturday is you never quite know where you’ll end up when you start typing. This week’s prompt is “may your,” and somewhere along the way this became a small collection of wishes — for myself and maybe for you too. This is awesome, Linda. Thanks for being the best host.
May your coffee stay hot long enough to finish a thought.
May your playlist hit exactly right at the traffic light when the sun drops low and the whole world suddenly looks like a movie scene made just for you.
May the wind be at your back, the sunshine on your face, and may whatever is haunting you at 2 a.m. lose your address entirely.
May your courage outlast your overthinking.
May your people find you when you need them most.
And if nothing else, may your life come with stellar music, wonderful company, and at quiet moments where you think: yep, this was worth showing up for.
Howdy y’all. LG prompts us with sweet and this is where my mind flows.
Saaaaweeettttt!
say it like you mean it
Sweet!!
not savory
not soft
not anything they promised
just bite
the apple
then laugh
delicious red or golden:
honeycrisp
fuji
pink lady
gala
granny smith
I did a roll call from my mama. I have no idea if she worked at Trout Apples. I know her parents did—my Grammy and Pop-Pop. Something tells me she would’ve felt getting her hands dirty was beneath her. Though she kept a garden. She wrote my Auntie Sharon about it. I have that letter. Still, I think she always wanted more. To escape her small town and make it big.
PS: I’m only guessing, since she died before I could meet her. But if she were still here, I would like to think I’d move mountains to meet her.
Saweet!!
bite of the apple
Written for #SoCS: Sweet. The rules and pingback are here.
I’m a little incoherent this morning and no I haven’t been drinking I’m just thinking. I am a poet who didn’t know it. Lulu and I are doing early Mother’s Day facials because she will be with her other mother tomorrow. I share her with Bear’s mom, Q and I don’t mind it one bit because as I’ve said over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, every day is Mother’s Day to moi!!
So. Contrast.
This is what I’ve got.
My body.
Collecting diagnoses.
Like souvenirs.
Didn’t ask for the trip.
So many scans lately I could light up a Christmas tree.
Used to be funny.
Still funny to me.
April 15 to May 4.
Back to back.
MRI with contrast.
MRI without contrast.
X-ray.
Then another MRI, no contrast.
Just… why.
And the result?
Pancreatic cyst.
Okay.
9 mm.
Now 1 cm.
Which is… what… a blink?
A squint?
Pick one.
Two doctors. Same script.
“Watch and wait.”
Cool.
Great.
Love that plan.
Meaning:
We see it.
We’re doing nothing.
Try not to lose your mind.
If it grows — next year — then we care.
Scope. Biopsy.
Whole production.
But right now?
Under 3.
So it’s fine.
“Fine.”
One of them even says maybe it was always 1 cm.
Oh.
So we’re guessing.
We’re just… guessing at organs.
Good. Good.
And then.
Lower back MRI.
No contrast.
Boom.
2.5 cm renal cyst.
And I’m like—
HELLO?
IS THIS A THING OR NOT?
…
Nothing.
No one says anything.
Just sitting there in the report like
surprise.
And I’m thinking, wasn’t this about an injection?
A needle.
A very specific job.
Why are there extras?
Why are there bonus features?
I’ve got the appointment coming.
Fine.
We’ll talk then.
But now it’s in my head.
Do I need a kidney doctor?
Is that happening?
Is this me now?
Just… collecting specialists.
Like rocks in my pockets.
And then that question.
Slides in.
Would it be better
to not know?
Because this — all of this —
is accidental.
Find a thing.
Maybe it matters.
Maybe it doesn’t.
Just… there now.
Living with me.
And yes.
Logically.
Catch it early.
Be smart.
Gold star.
But also—
I’m full.
…
and still
here.
Still showing up.
Still asking questions.
Still going to the appointments.
Because apparently
this is what it looks like—
not done.
just
getting started.
Now for a musical capstone.
Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black)
Written for #SoCS May 9th edition. Thanks LG for the prompt “contrast.” The rules and pingback are here. Join us for the fun.
Good morning, my lovelies! Time to get our stream on. Linda prompts us with “neat.”
Hmmm… neat…
think, think, and think
neat — oh ya
When I was in the 4th grade, my teacher, Mrs. Trevino, signed my autograph book with the following:
Roses are red, violets are blue. And what have you been? Such a smart girl, as neat as a pin!
What the what does that mean?!?? LOL
“Neat as a pin” must be some kind of ’70s jargon, I guess. I tossed all my journals in 2020 during a Swedish death clean, but I recently found two autograph books in a trunk. I was going to recycle them, but I haven’t got the heart to—I’m a packrat historian. That’s when I stumbled across Mrs. Trevino’s note. I thought it was neat, but didn’t give it another thought until I saw the prompt.
No one says neat or neato anymore, but I show my age all the time when I say “cool.”
Alrighty, my stream is caught up on the rocks. I might need a boat to get out of here today. Walking was on the agenda, but I’m rained in. That’s not a bad place to be. Snug as a bug in a rug. Hope you have a wonderful day, folks.
Written for #SoCS May 2, 2026, Neat. The rules and pingback are here. Join us for the fun!
May your chicken on a stick be crispy, your elote be flavorful, and your churros be warm and sugar-dusted just right.
Now let’s get to it — those bonus points are mine.
A tan doesn’t come easy to this melanin-challenged girl. That gene — a polygenic trait, meaning it is controlled by the combined effect of many different genes (which is why siblings can have different reactions to the sun) — skipped right over me.
Ten for Bo Derek! The same rating system my buddy Dave uses. My dear forever friend who has been through two rigorous rounds of cancer while staying upbeat. Now that’s a ten.
Tin as in roof. Yum! Now I want a tin roof sundae — oh, the chocolate and the peanuts. But who am I kidding — when don’t I want a sundae?!?? 🤣
A ton of swirling thoughts looping through my brain. Mr. Toad’s wild ride!!!
Now for tun.
Huh?
Why?
The final word in tun— pour the wine 🍷
As always, more to come.
Written by one J dub McGillicuddy for #SoCS. Thanks LG for hosting —you’re the best! The rules and pingback are here.
Life hack: drink more water. Make your bed. Wake up at 5 a.m. and become a better person by force of scheduling.
As if existence is just bad UX waiting to be optimized.
My version doesn’t look like that. I feed off chaos. I like messy. But damn do I have a lot of fun.
Sometimes the hack is not fixing anything.
It’s letting the dishes sit there and not turning it into a moral failure. Answering one message instead of drowning in all of them. Sitting in the car a few extra minutes before going inside, because inside is asking for more than you’ve got.
Sometimes it’s not solving the system. It’s refusing to turn yourself into a problem that needs constant repair.
Not everything is inefficiency. Not everything needs a workaround.
Some days the only hack is lowering the bar to “still here.”
And that my friends is where I’m at. I’m still here. ATX Baby. Living in the dream. I’ll decompress and write more about my experience later.
J-Dub's Grin and Bear It 