Rose Garden

My knockout roses have died…

If you remember, I once talked about having dozens of them surrounding my house.

26 Knockout Roses to be exact.

Pink, Hot Pink, Coral, Yellow and regular, mini, and drift roses.

They got a disease and slowly started dying.

They had these nasty twisted stems.

They fell over and bent.

Even the blooms and the leaves changed.

My sweet friend went to the nursery in town and asked how to save them.

“Pull them up and burn them..” she was told.

And to not plant another rose bush in the hole for at least two years.

TWO YEARS?!?

I went outside and finally started cutting them back.

At first I was heartbroken…I love my roses.

I thought about how much time I spent, digging holes, watering, weeding and fertilizing them.

Some of them were 8 years old.

They were my pride and joy.

As I stood there cutting them down, it hit me.

My roses are like my marriage.

It became diseased.

Ugly.

Twisted.

Finally I had to step back and decide to tear parts of it up.

His Job.

Several Friendships.

Life as we both knew it.

We cut back, tried keeping parts we thought were healthy, might just make it…but in the end, most were ‘burned’.

When we started over?

We didn’t look for the same things.

He’s no longer gone chasing money, and prestiage.

We have a whole new circle of friends. 

I have a job outside of our home.

We changed our communication within our marriage…I no longer bite my tongue, he listens even when I don’t physically talk, and we talk about the hard stuff.

My/our hope?

That someday when I decide to start over, replant the last pieces of our marriage. 

My full trust.

The last guarded pieces of my heart.

Loving him completely.

I think if done too quickly, the disease would have came back in other forms. 

Someday I’ll get my rose garden back.

I will appreciate them more then.

I will be aware that even the ‘disease resistant’ knockout rOses are vulnerable. 

Next time I’ll know the signs.

And at the first bent stem, diseases leaf?

I will take action to protect my garden. 

In the meantime, I’m looking at Butterfly bushes, maybe a few Lilacs, to fill the void left behind. 

It won’t be the same…but change my sweet friends can be healing. 

“I beg your pardon

I never promised you a rose garden

Along with the sunshine

There’s gotta be a little rain some time

When you take you gotta give so live and let live

Or let go oh-whoa-whoa-whoa

I beg your pardon

I never promised you a rose garden

I could promise you things like big diamond rings

But you don’t find roses growin’ on stalks of clover

So you better think it over

Well if sweet-talkin’ you could make it come true

I would give you the world right now on a silver platter

But what would it matter

So smile for a while and let’s be jolly

Love shouldn’t be so melancholy

Come along and share the good times while we can”

-Lynn Anderson-

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I’m Moving On

Saw the whore’s car the other day…

The one I’d daydreamed about shitting on.

If we’re being honest? I once upon a time in Alaska had to use ALL my self control, as an adult and mother of four, not to jump out of my husbands car as we drove by her trailer and run…cackling wildly…drop drawer…and shit on top of her car.

“The Jewel” was what she referred to it as.

Don’t glare at me and roll your eyes, I can’t make this shit up.

I referred to it as the Whore Mobile…the if it’s rocking? Don’t bother knocking, she’s already found her next “victim” it’s too late.

I’m joking.

She sold it after she was fired from her job.

Ahh, Karma, almost as sweet as my covering her “Jewel” with my own cosmic karma pile.

Back to my story…

I was walking out of the grocery store with my youngest son and Lou, when there it sat.

Front row.

A black Acadia, just like her old car.

My eyes saw it, but my heart didn’t feel it.

Stay with me…

MY EYES SAW IT BUT NOTHING.

Not a twinge from what was once a huge trigger.

I acknowledged it with an eye roll, laughed with my son, and moved on.

I MOVED ON.

For four long years, I have dealt with crippling triggers.

Slowly they are fading.

Some I don’t notice anymore, I’ve become immune to them.

The bigger ones still sting.

This one was a visual trigger, that used to knock the air out of me. I guess my subconscious always thought a door would open and I’d see a humongous thigh come lurching out…followed by the rest of her.

Silly?

Yes, but a very real trigger.

I’m just happy I’m healing.

And even kind of glad I didn’t give into my impulse that cold day in Valdez.

She wasn’t worth one more  moment of my time then.

She certainly isn’t worth it now.

I might still have scars.

But I’m healing.

I’m moving on.

How crazy is that?

“I’ve dealt with my ghosts and I’ve faced all my demons

Finally content with a past I regret

I’ve found you find strength in your moments of weakness

For once I’m at peace with myself

I’ve been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long

I’m movin’ on
I’ve lived in this place and I know all the faces

Each one is different but they’re always the same

They mean me no harm but it’s time that I face it

They’ll never allow me to change

But I never dreamed home would end up where I don’t belong

I’m movin’ on
I’m movin’ on

At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me

And I know there’s no guarantees, but I’m not alone

There comes a time in everyone’s life

When all you can see are the years passing by

And I have made up my mind that those days are gone
I sold what I could and packed what I couldn’t

Stopped to fill up on my way out of town

I’ve loved like I should but lived like I shouldn’t

I had to lose everything to find out

Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road

I’m movin’ on
I’m movin’ on

I’m movin’ on”

-Rascal Flatts-

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Heathens


I saw this and I loved it.

One of the hardest parts of all this was coming to terms with how awful people can be.

It made me paranoid.

It made me clam up, and close up the best part of myself. 

It made me sad.

People can be truly terrible. 

And it almost destroyed the open part of me.

The one who tries to always see the best in people.

Who makes excuses for them.

Who loves them until I can’t love them anymore.

I like to love.

To laugh.

And to ramble…

On and on about things I’m passionate about.

My family.

My kids.

My friends.

I am glad I fought for me.

The parts which make me a nice person and me.

The part that still picks wild flowers on the side of the road.

Who smiles and talks to strangers when standing in the check out lane.

I’ve built a bigger kitchen table instead of walls.

My heart is still bigger than it should be to be safe. 

Life, my sweet friends, is to short to live it safe.

And who wants to give terrible people power over our feelings and selves? 

“We don’t deal with outsiders very well

They say newcomers have a certain smell

Yeah, I trust issues, not to mention

They say they can smell your intentions

You’re lovin’ on the freakshow sitting next to you

You’ll have some weird people sitting next to you

You’ll think “how did I get here, sitting next to you?”

But after all I’ve said, please don’t forget

(Watch it, watch it)
(Watch it)

All my friends are heathens, take it slow

Wait for them to ask you who you know

Please don’t make any sudden moves

You don’t know the half of the abuse”

-Twenty One Pilots-

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Let it Go

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I ❤️️ this…

I think maybe because I’m always reminding myself “Better or Bitter? Kelly what’s it going to be?”

Love or Hate?

Forgivness or Anger?

Kindness or Vengeance?

Life is hard, so very Very VERY HARD my sweet friends.

But we can still be soft.

And find all the laughter and goodness in this world we live in.

We don’t ever forget the pain or life lessons we were given during the bad times.

But we don’t have to let them decide our futures.

We decide who and how we are going to be in the future.

I’m still going to be vulnerable, because keeping your guard up 24/7 is exhausting.

I’m still going to be kind to strangers and believe in the innate kindness of people.

I still might get angry.

I still might be sad.

sometimes maybe a little bit crazy.

But I will on most days be better not bitter.

I hope you are too…

“I used to recognize myself
It’s funny how reflections change
When we’re becoming something else
I think it’s time to walk away

So come on let it go
Just let it be
Why don’t you be you
And I’ll be me

Everything’s that’s broke
Leave it to the breeze
Why don’t you be you
And I’ll be me”

-James Bay-

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Sunday Morning

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Just leaving this here for my friends walking down the same road I traveled….

Someday it will be better.

You will heal.

You won’t hurt every minute of every day.

You will move on.

And you will be okay, some days even great.

Don’t give up.

 

 

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Easy Creamy Chicken Enchilada Soup

It has finally gotten cold in Oklahoma…

A freezing 60 in the afternoons, go ahead and laugh. My family is glad I’m so cold natured, because I bake and cook to ‘warm’ up the house.

This weekend I wanted to try something different, my favorite fall soup is usually Chicken Tortilla. I switched it up with Chicken Enchilada soup…I know Crazy Kelly must be running the kitchen.

It was yummy and easy, I even remembered to write down all my tweaks and changes, my girls are reading this and cheering. I usually take things from ten recipes, then add my own flair, it comes out amazing, and can never be replicated.

Try this it took 35 minutes to make and I had all the ingredients on hand.

Easy Creamy Chicken Enchilada Soup

Prep time 5
Cook time
30 mins
Total time
35 minutes.

Serves 10

ingredients

1 tbsp olive oil

2 Chicken Breasts seasoned with garlic powder and pepper

1 c. onion, chopped

1/2 green and red bell peppers chopped.

1/2 tsp cumin

1 10 oz can red enchilada sauce

8 oz cream cheese cubed

1 14 oz can Rotel

1 can black beans, drained and rinsed.

1 can whole corn, drained

2 cups chicken broth or water with chicken soup base added.

2 cups montery jack cheese and cheddar cheese divided.

Toppings

10 Corn Tortillas cut into strips and fried in oil till crispy. Drain on paper towel and lightly salt.

1/2 cup cilantro chopped

1/2 cup green onion sliced.

Sour Cream

Instructions

Heat the olive oil in a Dutch oven  over medium heat. Add the seasoned chicken and cook for 5 min per side. Add  the onion,bell peppers, and cumin and cook for about 5 minutes until the onion is soft and translucent. Remove the chicken from the pot and set aside to cool. Once cool chop up into small bite sized pieces.
Add the enchilada sauce and cream cheese. Keep breaking up and stirring in cream cheese until combined.
Add the Rotel, black beans, corn and stir.
Add the chopped chicken breast and chicken broth. Stir and cook for about 10 to 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, just until the soup is really hot. Don’t boil too long or cream cheese could curdle. Add one cup of cheese mixture and stir till melted.

Remove from heat and garnish with toppings.

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Ribbons and Detours

img_9091Four  years ago my life changed…

I was forced to take a detour through hell.

I was tested and brought to my knees.

I could have literally filled the bathtub I was often laying in with my tears.

There were times I prayed for peace.

Others I asked for vengeance.

I often went crazy with my grief.

Spending hours, then days, which turned to weeks unable to function or get out of bed.

I was so angry and bitter.

Constantly trying to figure out why?

Yelling at the top of my lungs how unfair it was until I was hoarse.

Arguing with God that I was a good person who didn’t deserve this.

Wasting away to a mere shadow of myself…in spirit and size.

Screaming at God to give me my life back.

Finally I found my way again.

It was still a detour from my previously scheduled life.

I learned to embrace the detours in life.

To let go and let God.

He has sent me tests.

I have failed and kept on trying.

Continuing when you are lost and tired is half the battle.

Here I stand.

Not a year, not two years but four years out from D-Day.

I am surrounded by my family.

I am now called Gammy by one, soon to be two grand babies.

My children have grown up.

They still have two parents who love them and are a daily part of thier lives.

They know I’m crazy and love me anyways.

I am surrounded by friends, some who have been by my side for years, but a large group newly assembled.

And by assembled,  I mean  they will circle the wagons and go to “fist city” for me.

My detour lead me down a really bumpy road.

I didn’t choose it.

But I don’t fight it anymore.

Four years out.

I’m better most days.

And I’m still trying everyday.

To find the happiness which used to live here.

“I can’t believe it, you of all things
It’s been a while, memories teem
Some kind of anthem lingering
Images settle internally

[Chorus]
Ribbons and detours meant nothing to me
Swaying the sentiments, pulling our strings
Tempting me softly, but killing our dream
You said it’s over but maybe
It’s the same old thing

[Verse Two]
I can’t believe it, you of all things
Coming in homage, devious needs
Intimate outlies, weakening
Tranquilize slowly, inside of me”

 

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