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Feature Post and Blog of the Week
by Amie from MammaLoves...

You did well in school to get into college. You tried to get
by well enough in college to be attractive to an employer or graduate program, and along the way you may have opened your heart a time or two. Maybe you even found true love.

With a foot in the door, the first years of work were the time to
prove your mettle once again. Promotions, raises all with the goal to
secure your future will allow you to settle down, buy a house, travel,
commit to a relationship, have kids or not. In what feels like a blink
of an eye, your future is here.

And now what?

All the decisions made to get to this point, all the paths considered
and discarded for what felt right--for what seemed the smartest move
at the time—they all brought you here. Or maybe, some decisions were made for you. A rejection
letter, a broken heart, an unintended pregnancy,
they were decisions taken from your hands but events that moved your life along
just the same.

Here you are.

Did the path you chose lead you to the destination you expected? Are
you looking back wondering what if? Is this life you have what you thought it
would be? Do you ever think you might have made different choices? Would you
have taken advantage of other opportunities? Created more?

Maybe some days it all seems exactly how it’s supposed to be, but then for no reason driving down the highway you catch a glimpse of how different it could have all been.

And you wonder.

This post submitted by Amie, a 37 year old woman who has reached one
peak and is looking ahead trying to envision the next. She blogs regularly at MammaLoves... and DC Metro Moms

Beautiful Risk

Feature Post and Blog of the Week
by Jenny from Mommin' It Up!

She’s sleeping soundly, and I pause to observe a rare moment of calm in my wild child, my crazy girl, my daring daughter. Her long, fine hair covers her thick eyelashes and rest on her plump, peaceful cheeks. She is, to me, simply amazing. But I am, of course, her mother.

Eleven months ago, I exhibited the opposite of the serenity she now sleepily displays. I was pregnant with her, and on the cusp of giving birth, rotund, uncomfortable, and scared. I was anxious, apprehensive, and fretful about my baby girl. My fears frustrated and confounded me. I already had a son, and he was healthy and strong. I had done this before, what was wrong with me? I just wanted her out, and as my pregnancy progressed I became more and more convinced she would be safer outside the womb than in.

A few days before my due date, after a doctor’s appointment where once again, everything looked fine, I sat down to try and analyze my fear, to seek to know the enemy that was taking the joy out of this pregnancy. What I came to realize after some careful, quiet thought, was this: because I already had one child, I knew what I had to lose if something went wrong with this pregnancy. I knew what it was like to hold my own child in my arms, to nurse it at my breast, to feel its breath on my cheek, to marvel at its first smile and revel in its first laugh. This baby already had my heart. Giving her life meant risking her life, and I already knew I couldn’t live without her.

A few days later, right on time, my risk, my beautiful risk paid off. My daughter came into my world healthy and strong, just like her brother. The last eleven months she has brought me joy upon joy, and looking at her now I don’t regret the risk for a minute. Still, knowing what I have to lose, I don’t think myself brave enough to take it on again.

Jenny Rapson lives in her hometown in Ohio with her high-school-sweetheart-turned-husband and her two fabulously funny kids. She is a stay-at-home-mom, avid book reader and voracious coffee drinker, and writes her blog about adventures in motherhood with her friend and cousin, Emily Berry, at Mommin’ It Up! (http://momminitup.com).

Feature Post

Confessions of a Multitasking Mom

Written by Mama Zen from The Zen of Motherhood

When I hear the phrase “multitasking mom,” I get an instant mental picture. I picture a smiling, put-together woman exercising on the treadmill, working her Blackberry, and effortlessly wrangling her children, all at the same time. If only I were that cool! Oh, don’t get me wrong; I can multitask like the most Alpha of moms if I have to. It’s just that my best multitasking takes place . . . on the toilet.

That’s right, on the toilet. Since I became a mom, I have learned how to fully utilize my time on the throne. Here are my secrets for making the most out of one’s potty breaks.

Read the full Feature Post...

Anger Management

by Beth from Sense & Sensibilities

As is typical in religious or moral theology, what we are taught to believe often differs greatly from what is actually written in the Bible. Almost every list of vices, whether it be classic literary works, such as Dante and Chaucer, or modern day films like Se7en, contains wrath or anger as a sin. Yet, when we refer to Proverbs 6, the origin of the now infamous Seven Deadly Sins, neither are mentioned.

16 These six things doth the LORD hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him:

17 a proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,

18 an heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief,

19 a false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.

This prompts the question: Is anger a sin?

No matter how much we try to control it, every person on the planet has a temper. Why is that? Did the devil create anger? I don’t believe so. He doesn't have the power to create. All he does is pervert the godly things God created.

It's God who gave us the capacity to get angry. Anger has a godly function.

There is a righteous use of anger. Not understanding this has rendered many of us so passive, we don't get mad at the evil in this world. After all, it’s not politically correct! Therefore, Satan is having a free shot at everything we hold dear and holy. Our society is under attack, and our righteous anger that God has given us as a weapon is kept in its sheath and not used. This needs to change.

So what is a proper use of anger?

"Ye that love the LORD hate evil". (Psalm 97:10)

"The fear of the LORD [is] to hate evil: pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth, do I hate". (Prov. 8:13)

"The fear of the LORD [is] the beginning of wisdom". (Psalm 111:10)

"The fear of the LORD [is] the beginning of knowledge". (Prov. 1:7)

"Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good". (Rom. 12:9)

“Hate” is a pretty strong word, yet it is clearly stated that there are things in this world that we should hate. Note that I said things, not people.

Jesus was sinless, but He had hate and anger. In John 2:14-17, which took place at the beginning of Jesus' earthly ministry, and then in Mark 11:15-17, which took place the last week of Jesus' earthly ministry, Jesus drove the money changers out of the temple. He didn't approach them calmly and say, "Guys, I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt or offend any of you, but I have to do this to obey my Father." Not quite. He made a whip and beat the people and animals and turned over their tables. He was mad.

So, if God is perfect and there are things that He hates, and if Jesus was sinless but had anger, I ask again: Is anger really a sin?

To truly answer this, we need to examine what makes us angry.

We can't always change circumstances, and we don’t have the authority to control others, but we can control what's inside of us that makes us angry. The key is found in Proverbs 13:10:

"Only by pride cometh contention".

It's not what others do to us that makes us angry; it's the pride inside of us that causes us to get mad. That’s probably not what most people believe, but that's what the Bible says. This verse doesn't say that pride is one of the major reasons for anger — it's the only reason.

Pride is not only thinking we are better than others; pride can be thinking we are worse than others or just being self-conscious. It doesn't matter if the self is always exalting or debasing. It's all self-centeredness, which is pride. Like it or not, understand it or not, pride is the source of all of our anger. As we deal with our own self-love, anger toward others will be defused.

Anger itself is not wrong, but rather the pride behind it. Humility is truly the best anger management. Next time you find yourself feeling anger, look deeper and find out why.

Beth is the author of Sense & Sensibilities, where she writes about her life with her family, her dog, hormones and stalkers. She also turns the Big Four-Oh today, giving her all sorts of new bloggity goodness!

Romantic Illusions

by Emma Kaufmann
http://www.mommyhasaheadache.blogspot.com/

I sometimes feel like marriage as it is today is some
sort of anachronism from the past. It seems like
feminism should have changed it all for the better,
and it did change it, certainly, but whether it was
for the better, I'm not so sure. Firstly, sexual
pleasure got all mixed up into it. Now women are
expected to demand sexual pleasure in marriage and if,
after working at the sex by reading countless articles
on 'How to Spice up Your Marriage,' things are still
rather poor on the bedroom front, then one should
simply cut one's losses and head for the door.


It is a well documented fact that sexual disgust for women in marriage was
once part and parcel of the marriage contract, and a very useful one at that.
In the eighteenth century, when marriages were still made as business
arrangements, it was necessary, nay even desirable, to make your wife think
sex was an unbearable chore so that she would never even consider leaving.
Since many women probably didn't have any lovers before marriage and
consequently had no point of comparison, once they got married and found the
marital sex to be awful (as I would guess it usually was, seeing as people did
not choose each other on the basis of sexual attraction), sex became linked in the
wife's mind with disgust, and she didn't crave physical relations with someone
else outside of the marriage.

Women throw up their hands at how in the old days, men and women made
marriages based on pragmatic choices that had little or nothing to do with love.
Apart from the fact that women no longer become the legal property of men
when they marry, however, we still choose partners in the same old ways. Most
people marry others of a similar or higher social status, calculating their long
term earning and investment potential. Women and men also usually marry
partners of equal physical attractiveness. Physical attractiveness and good
education/job are the reasons people choose their partners and yet, who would
admit it? It is always dressed up as, 'I fell in love with him', or 'our eyes met
across a crowded room'.

But falling in love is so natural, you may reply, it's as natural as breathing.
But is it? Is it really? Is there any evidence that people en masse 'fell in love'
with each other in the past? Some did, but passionate love tended to be
an unstabling influence on society and was not encouraged. Happy love
did not even enter the vocabulary of romance until the seventeeth century,
and many historians believe that romantic love is a learned behavior that
became fashionable in the late eighteenth century, along with the new
fashion for reading novels - the novel itself being a radical cultural form that
explored 'individuality' for the first time.

For the Greeks, passionate love was a disordering and thus preferably
brief experience, in opposition to the goal of marriage, which was to
create a well-balanced household. Marriage was certainly never the journey
towards self-fulfillment that it has become today.

The mixing of romantic love with marriage is, I would say, the fundamental
problem in today's marriages. On the one hand, you are told to ‘work’ at
your marriage and to suppress desires to have affairs, yet, on the other hand,
you are told that falling in love is the greatest thing that can happen between
two people. And once the buzz is gone from your relationship, what to do?
No wonder, I think, that so many people are having affairs and the divorce
rate is so high. There seems to be a fundamental flaw in the concept of
marriage today. It is meant to give so much to people, yet gives so little.
And with so many now playing away, or, more commonly, reaching
for the Prozac, I wonder if this is progress? What do you say?

A Nation of Eclectics

by Liz Easterly of Spoonfed

In the Wall Street Journal this weekend, there was a story about a woman who discovers another side of her mother, after her mother's death from lung cancer, through her passion for collecting art glass on eBay. During her mother's final months, she would beg her daughter, from her hospital bed, to check her eBay account and make sure any auctions she had won were paid promptly. She had to safeguard her eBay reputation.

"How could that have been her foremost concern?" Her daughter wondered.

She discovered her mother had spent over $30,000 in three years buying Venetian, Steuben and Depression era glass tsotchkes. In her daughter’s opinion, these were worthless trinkets. Had the cancer consumed her mother's sanity?

After her mother's death, she began to wonder about all those glass pieces, and started to contact her mother's eBay friends.

She discovered that each of her mother's purchases corresponded to an event in her illness: the day she was diagnosed with lung cancer, her mother purchased a light green bud vase and sent it to her daughter. Her daughter promptly put the odd little vase in a cupboard and forgot about it. Another time, she purchased a cut-glass set of port glasses, after her son-in-law had ordered port at the restaurant the night before. She told the seller that she wanted a complete set of glasses to entertain her family.

Another man, her mother's "mentor" in the art glass world, gave her more insight. Her mother, he said, had bought each piece with her two daughters in mind; she was creating a legacy for her girls.

This story got me thinking about the worlds we can create for ourselves, outside of our normal lives, and how technology is affecting that. Are we using technology to isolate ourselves, creating virtual friendships and relationships that cut out the daily human contact with our loved ones? Worse, are we turning into a nation of eclectics?

We can find groups with any and all obscure interests online. Into Barbie dolls? There’s a huge group of those folks. Orchid and bromeliad collectors, Conspiracy theorists. Grobanites. Geyser Gazers, who are into the geysers of Yellowstone. Furries – folks who like to dress up as their favorite stuffed animal.

I saw Bill Gates the other night on “The Big Idea.” Host Donny Deutsch asked whether he was fearful of technology serving to isolate us. Gates seemed surprised by the question.

Technology, he said, allows us even greater access to finding others with interests like our own. Technology just adds to the richness of personal experience, giving us access to people all over the world we otherwise would never have met. It doesn’t take away our need for face to face relationships, and it can never replace human contact, but can only add to it.

There is something compelling in this utopian view of technology. After all, the Grobanites may unite online, but they meet face to face at Josh Groban concerts across the country. Geyser gazers keep in contact online, but they meet up on the boardwalks of Yellowstone National Park. And who can forget the Entourage episode where Turtle and Drama meet up with a furry?

And yet there is something heartbreaking about the woman who kept her passion for collecting art glass a secret from her family. Because they didn’t share her passion? Because they couldn’t understand it? Because they thought her a little crazy? (And let’s face it: $30,000 in art glass is a little excessive.)

In the end, the daughter went home, took out the step-ladder, and pulled the little green bud vase out of her cupboard. She poured in some water, put five pink roses in it, and set it in the living room.

Liz Easterly lives in Denver. Between her one year old son and black lab, there is no time for eclectic interests or collecting, although she does find the occasional chance to write about motherhood, marketing, and writing over at Spoonfed.

A Heart to Laugh With, a Hand to Hold

Written by Beth at Sense & Sensibilities

It starts with a finger, that little tiny fist clenched around my finger, my hand in his. It’s instinctual, I’m sure – a sweet reminder – an “I am here.” A contradiction to an idea I can’t even wrap my mind around. This beautiful creature is entirely in my hands, a part of me forever.

A chubby fist, in his mouth one minute and grabbing my hair the next, carefully and thoughtfully attempts to manipulate the Cheerio on his tray. Like a claw in an arcade game, the fingers slowly close around the cereal and then raise … success! Today it is cereal; tomorrow’s quest may be a bug in the yard.

The steps are hesitant but eager, a little hand holding tightly to mine for reassurance. First two hands, then one, then he’s on his own. A few steps, then down, then off we go again. And again. Freedom for him brings worries for me. Please, hold my hand a little longer.

One finger in his mouth to calm his nerves is quickly replaced by a happy wave. A “bye mom!” and his hand is holding the teacher’s as he starts a life without me there by his side. Excited hands quickly pull art projects from his bag as he relates his day to me, stories of new friends, new experiences and the occasional new hurt.

My hand firmly rests upon his as he clutches the handlebars. “Don’t let go,” he says. Never, I think. Pedal, pedal, pedal … and I let go.

“Slide! Slide!” the base coach shouts. A cloud of dust, then “safe!” The mitt comes off as his sweaty hand reaches for a drink on the bench. Thinking he is oblivious to my presence, I continue to cheer his team. A quick glance my way, a wink, a wave.

After a hastily muttered goodbye, he shuts the car door behind him. His saunter up the school steps is confident and easy. The girl waits for him inside, flips her hair over her shoulder with one hand, and slips her other hand into his.

The car keys jingle as he pulls them off the hook. One hand reaches for his wallet, the other grabs a Pepsi, and the door closes behind him. I smile as the door opens once again only to show his crooked grin, a wink and a wave – “bye mom.”

He takes her hand softly as she reaches the altar. To have and to hold …

“Isn’t she beautiful mom?” His hands look so big holding that tiny bundle, wrapped snugly in a blanket. As he gently strokes her face, a little fist grabs his finger and he smiles. Just as he has had my heart all of these years, she now has his – forever in his hands.

Beth is the author of Sense & Sensibilities, where she relates stories of her life with a Sensible husband, two not-so-Sensible boys, hormones and stalkers.

Two Nations

Feature Post
by Around My kitchen Table

I'm a Brit so I know I'm treading on dodgy ground when I start talking about sport. The Aussies whip our asses regularly in rugby, the Kiwis whip our asses regularly in cricket, and the whole of the world whips our asses regularly in tennis, athletics and, our supposedly national game, football.

We don't mind too much; we have a culture which glorifies the "gallant loser" -

and we've had plenty of practice in that fixed "no, no it's perfectly OK that you've beaten our team (combined worth £300-million) 7-0, you part-time team of taxi drivers and plumbers" look.

For my American readers, by football I mean soccer. My friends across the pond, I understand, tend to think that soccer is a game for cissies, girls and little people under the age of 11.
Half a dozen of you may have heard of Pele and one or two of you may have heard of David Beckham, but only because he's the other half of a Spice Girl and is the new best friend of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes.

So forget about America and Britain being two nations divided by a common language (to coin a phrase from George Bernard Shaw), we are two nations divided by the shape of our balls. Yours are oval and ours are round.

Americans are under the misapprehension that there is only one type of football game which, as far as I have been able to ascertain, involves lots of men dressed in duvets, running around like rutting stags on speed trying to beat the crap out of each other. British football is based on the ability of over-paid prima donnas being able to fool a referee by falling over and feigning imminent death if an opposing player so much as looks at them funny.

Both games have their world cups. The "proper" World Cup involves teams from all over the world (the clue is in the name) - from Bolivia to Bulgaria, Nigeria to Norway and Ireland to Italy. The American World Cup, on the other hand, involves teams from, well, America. So, novel use of the word "world" there, guys.

America usually qualifies for the Proper World Cup and next time round (South Africa, 2010) I wish them the best of luck. Because when America starts doing really well on the world stage (rather than the 'my backyard' stage), maybe they will become as passionate as the rest of the world about this most beautiful of beautiful games.

Feature Post

Is Sixty the New Forty?

Written by Lady MacLeod from Braveheart does the Maghreb

When I read this headline in the New York Times this week, my immediate reaction was to sit up, raise both my arms into the air and shout, "Yes!". I have been thinking it over however and I am put in mind of what Gloria Steinem said when she was told, “You don’t look thirty.”

She replied, “This is what thirty looks like now.” Perhaps this is what sixty looks like now. With a new emphasis on exercise and eating right more people are remaining very active for much longer. Sixty is not an outrageous age to begin a new career, a new romance, take up a sport, or move to a foreign country. We see actors like Bruce Willis (50’s) and Harrison Ford (60’s) star in action movies, and doing it well. Women like Catherine Deneuve (60’s) still setting fire to the big screen, give us with a smaller stage, ideas.

I am on the close side of sixty and lie about it to no one. In the past year I moved to a foreign country in which I do not speak either of the languages, and very few people speak English. I have begun a new career, and I have a romantic life as well.

Being the exception to the rule is not new to me, but in this case I don’t think it applies. My daughter’s grandmother is 75 years old and runs rings around men and women half her age. She and her husband who is the same age are presently in the Bering Sea in their sixty-four foot boat for four months – quite alone and very much capable of the physical and mental agility required for such a voyage.

The cultural permission and even encouragement, to get out and do more challenging activities as we age is contributing to a generation that is going to the barn much later than generations before, and liking it. We feel we still have much to contribute to the world at large and our own lives in particular.

One observes climbers going up Everest that are sixty and beyond, marathon runners are getting older by decades, and even baseball legends are remaining on the field long after their predecessors had gone. I think this is a trend that will continue. Who knows with the advances in medicine and research how long the life span can be extended.

This generation is also more interested in the development of a true spiritual life, not to be confused with a religious life, than their parents. There is no longer a stigma associated with meditation, yoga, and exercise that also centers the spirit such as Tai Chi.

Tales of study into the creation of human clones, growing new organs with stem cells, and the old standby of plastic surgery lend credence to the hopes of active and attractive centenarians. What was once science fiction may become the scientific truths of the near future.

I think in this day of longer and healthier lifespan we can ask ourselves the same questions we did at twenty. What do I want from this life? Who do I want to be? Do I want to coast along or have adventures, take some chances? It is easier this time ‘round I should think as we are not now encumbered with the responsibilities of parenting a young child, or starting a new career, or meeting our parents expectations. Take that trip you “always wanted to”. Learn to skydive. Flirt with a stranger. Close your eyes and point to a place on the map and then head out.

I think this is what sixty looks like and it looks damn good from here.

Lady Macleod at Braveheart does the Maghreb.
The daily tales of a western woman living in North Africa with the occasional political rant. Posting recently on heat, shopping, emergency medical care, and how to dress for a Moroccan wedding.

What Does it Take?

Written by Evelyn at Homespun Honolulu

There’s no doubt that crime is a problem across the globe and it continues to increase as populations increase. What then will it take for people to see that a criminal justice system has to maintain a certain degree of reliability – has to provide a certain amount of security for its citizens? Instead of establishing anything like that, the State of Hawaii released what I would call a psychotic pervert hell bent on terrorizing young girls.

Convicted of the senseless and ruthless murder of a 17-year-old girl in 1979, Peter Bailey was sentenced to a minimum of 35 years in prison. Over time his sentence kept being shortened. He was released seven years too early and is now being held for the alleged rape of a juvenile. To top it all off, he is accused of raping her at an Assembly of God church. So, while he’s obviously hell bent on messing with our youngsters, he’s also hell bound!

Honolulu’s prosecuting attorney, Peter Carlisle, was quoted as saying, "We've got a system right now that is exerting pressure on everyone to release people,” said Carlisle during a press conference with reporters. “If you release the wrong people then somebody's going to get hurt and somebody has gotten hurt.” I have the highest respect for Mr. Carlisle but, while I agree with his statement, it still left me scratching my head.

Released because of pressure on the prison system? What?!? Is that because the prison system is overloaded? While I’m sure that it is, I wonder if that is the pressure that the prosecutor is talking about. If it is, I can understand it, but releasing a known felon back into the community is pretty risky business. It gets riskier when you release one that has been incarcerated for a senseless, violent act. Uh, I would say that Bailey was definitely one of “the wrong people!”

So, what does it take? A repeat offense enabled by releasing the wrong guy? I don’t know where the real stupidity crown goes. Is it with the offender who has gotten himself thrown back in jail, or is it with the judicial system of the State that let him loose? You can visit KHON2 News for the full story and some video coverage. Then you can tell me where the stupidity award goes!

Evelyn writes at Homespun Honolulu, trying to find the hidden charms of her city to share with readers who are tired of all the commercial hype.

Feature Post

Imperfect in Perfection's Shadow

Written by Amanda from The Wink


I am human, imperfect and, at times, guilty of envy. As a parent I make choices every day, most of which I feel damn good about. I buy organic foods, incorporate exercise and time outside into day-to-day life (Look great, feel great, everybody wins.). I work assiduously to ensure that my girls, ages 1 and 3, have no self-image issues trickle down from me via fat days and bad hair days (which, considering the infrequency with which I visit a hairdresser, is increasingly difficult)...

Click here to read the full post

Imperfect in Perfection's Shadow

Written by Amanda from The Wink


I am human, imperfect and, at times, guilty of envy. As a parent I make choices every day, most of which I feel damn good about. I buy organic foods, incorporate exercise and time outside into day-to-day life (Look great, feel great, everybody wins.). I work assiduously to ensure that my girls, ages 1 and 3, have no self-image issues trickle down from me via fat days and bad hair days (which, considering the infrequency with which I visit a hairdresser, is increasingly difficult)..

I have a full time job and freelance on the side to make ends meet. I choose to be affectionate and honest with my husband in front of the girls, wanting them to know a model for relationships that incorporates friendship, passion and compromise (He's cute, I'm lucky, it's easy). I've made some serious mistakes if the reports about tv before 2 and not being home full time are to be believed. I try not to dwell on those things, I mean my three year old says, "Ayudame" when she needs help and Avery can say "Jupiter", so Little Einsteins and Dora can't be all bad.

Sometimes I make little missteps in life, but I try to do the right thing. Lately I've been reading a lot about what other people are doing, whether it's a mom struggling with how to the greatest fight in her life or a woman planning her wedding (This one I haven't so much read as been force fed). While I will cop to a bit of stuff envy...$400 jeans? $600 hair cuts? Villas? Trainers? Help? Sign me up! One thing has become very clear to me in the last few months: If a $2 million dollar wedding and face shellacked with make-up and a figure held up by a veritable pit crew is perfection, then I am just fine with my frizzy, soft in spots life with two kids in diapers and a husband who occasionally makes me crazy.

So Eva can have her OK! photo shoots and Entertainment Tonight feature segments, I'll take my platform over at The Wink, if you ever feel like reading about toilet back ups and toddler tantrums instead of sequins and Bentleys, pop on over, no need to dress up, just be yourself.

Feature Post

Cut Flowers

Written by Omega Mum from 3 Kids No Job

Get married and the words ‘for ever’ trip off your tongue and up into the ether like silver bubbles of air in a top-lit seascape.

Nothing in life can prepare you for eternity, though in my case double maths with Mr McC, - a teacher so dire that we ran competitions offering a night out with his cardigan; second prize, two nights - came close.

While we juggle with the infinite nature of the universe, we’re evolving into creatures so full of self-interest and deficit in concentration that gazing at anything other than our own navels is rapidly becoming a task of almost insuperable difficulty...

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Feature Post

Someone Else's Tomorrow
Written by john from Altjiranga Mitjina

Have you ever been baptized in the cool winter water
On a Sunday Morning When the sky was gray
We fled out of the churchyard so cold it was silver
Into gold. Tan and blue cars and the cars drove away

And all the memories fade Send the ghosts on their way
Tell them they’ve had their day It’s someone else’s tomorrow...


Click here to read the full post