If It’s Friday...
It Must Be FineLine Salon Day
Today being Friday, I present the latest installment of that literary rag, The Fineline Salon, "submitted" to you as a tribute for being the writers and artists that you are. I am someone whose respect and admiration grows daily, for writers who chronicle the obstacles that dot the rocky road of life, and the heights of joy within the framework of their families and friends, and stabilize themselves by jotting it all down and letting it soothe their souls. Being able to articulate your thoughts on a monitor, has got to result in a clearer perspective on any situation.
Sebtown, you may be my sistah, but I am still going to gently chide you for questioning your writing abilities. Your introspective musings, combined with haunting photos, make your blog a compelling stop for the FineLine Salon Notepad. Your personifications are priceless, as your plea to Winter so aptly depicted. Are you finding that Winter is indeed able to still “wow me with your silent cold beauty?” I am still shaking my head at the post you did, describing the mother who was opposed to the positive-reinforcement program that you had instigated. This program is immensely popular, contributing to a healthier climate on campus. There was only one problem: her child didn’t win. “Come on, People.”
Melanie, (I have never met a person I could call Mel, and I want to, desperately) I have already acknowledged that you are so good for me, in presenting a font of humor, common sense, and intensely thought-provoking scenarios. We are the beneficiaries of your decision to find the time to post something every day during February. I had an irresistible urge to go line-dancing the other morning while listening to Those Darlins, and I think this morning’s comic post on memory belongs on U-Tube. Or was that yesterday’s post? I can’t remember.
Sarah, congrats on celebrating your 100th post this past week, presenting your Life’s Contradictions, with honesty and determination. Whether it is parents’ escalating responsibilities in the realm of their children’s exploits, or the artificiality of Valentines Day, you sort and classify, trying to smooth those contradictions out a little easier, than the process of ironing on those pesky scout patches.
Judy, your effervescent personality cartwheels onto my screen every morning, making me think of the contradiction that your interest in paranormal activities presents. I am deathly afraid if I am even in the same room with one of those “Halloween” movies; it is enough to bring on a nervous sweat. And your two-word post yesterday morning was as eloquent a summary of the VW issue, as any I have yet seen. Pure, unadulterated frustration.
Masked Mom, you were my gateway into a whole new ungated world, with limitless boundaries, and a wealth of satisfaction. You were my confidante, long before I had earned that right. You gave me sound advice and have provided me with an ongoing nutritious diet of humor and substance. Your wordhoard of accumulated Spiral Notebook journal entries, provides continuous commentary on the value of recording the events, impressions and footprints, on the paths of your travels. Reading your tribute to your mom allowed me to see the source of much of your being. It was very powerful and very moving.
Lynda Grace, I was directed to your site by an unremembered source, days (I’m sure it seemed more like months to you) after your Joey passed, so I was there to lend a bit of my surgically repaired shoulder, for you to lean on. As recently as yesterday morning, you once again had to face hard times. I wouldn’t know it from your humor and your gorgeous art work, in the form of New Jersey, The Beautiful. There must be therapy and some self-healing in that process.
Michelle, I always enjoy popping in at your site; you present your world to us with candor and humor, and I leave with the thought that you are eternally cheerful. When you write about your kids, it is always with an insight that indicates you love your role, and have instilled in them the values that will serve them well. I am also a dog person, walking my English Bulldog and Australian Shepherd, up to the top of our driveway and back, a walk of close to half an hour each morning, so I enjoy the inclusion of your dog anecdotes. There is never a hint of pretension in your writing, and it sparkles like the periwinkle in the early morning sunlight, after the dew has frozen, and turned the whole flower box into a display case of shimmering diamonds.
So to everyone, I peruse all of your posts, at some point in time, though I do not always comment. I often come back a second time, before I formulate a response, but I have the time to do this. Being very new to this world, I am cautious about over-extending myself, and turning the process into a chore. Tedious gets old quickly. I appreciate your stopping in at the Salon occasionally, but recognize that that Disney Ride called Life, will rear its head and shoulders upon occasion, and demand that you attend to business. That’s works well for me, because then you write it all down and post it, and I have job security.