Post Trauma Looking for Drama

Lately I have been a very unfaithful author. Some of you may not have noticed and some of you may not care, but I am not the writer I once was. Somewhere along the line in these last few months I have emptied out my brain spout and I cannot seem to fill it back up. My drive to write about my relationship with my Mom is over and I feel that I have healed as much as I can there. There is also the ongoing, but finally slowing process of splitting ties with my Dad’s widow (choke, cough, and gag). In this ending of all things traumatic there is really nothing dramatic going on except the daily highs and lows of my family which while somewhat entertaining to me does not necessarily meet the daily requirements of drama for you the reader.

So today I am writing with a warning…if you are looking for an Enquirer type of salacious story you will not find it here. I am comfortable not having drama for a change. Do not get me wrong I am sure there is more to come (seriously it is still my life I know the drama has not ended). I also know that this change of pace is a good opportunity to write about less important but somewhat entertaining things like…the hobo pie sandwiches from last week. How fun was that?

Here is a fun morsel for you. Yesterday was the fourth of July and I was desperate to make a red white and blue dessert. I bought strawberries and blueberries and some heavy cream so that I could make homemade whip cream because I love how yummy it is. I also started the day by making a store brand sugar cookie because on Pinterest someone shared how fun sugar cookie tacos stuffed with whip cream and fruit were. You just bake and before completely cool fold over something slim and round to form your taco…yeah yeah yeah, whatever! I ended up packing up the cookie disaster and sending them with my daughter Aly on her camping trip with a girlfriend’s family. I did not want to keep the painful memory of my failed sugar cookie taco around.

Later I decided I would just use pound cake or angel food cake but after a quick trip to the store realized I had been side tracked by all the choices and left the store sans anything cakey. Because I am persistent person I decided a big bowl of red and blue fruit with homemade whip cream would be yummy, so I pull out the strawberries to start chopping and they were furrier than Santa’s beard. At that point I threw them (the strawberries) in the garbage and cried. I was just not going to have my red white and blue dessert, period end of story.

Cue the family tradition of sparklers. Because Aly was gone there were four dorks (Mark, Ashleigh, Avery and Me) doing dances and writing our names in the air while flames sparkled around us. We are not good candidates for lighting rockets and sending them into the air so for our group a sparkler is dangerous enough. Just the lighting of the sparkler turns into a military production with everyone worrying about being burned, how we will light them and “Where should I put the hot ones?” in the end, this simple act of silliness saved the day. It had all the makings of a good story too, excitement, danger and everyone happy in the end. Perhaps I will be able to keep you entertained yet. I hope so!

Ashleigh and Avery enjoying their forced holiday fun

Mark and I busting a move as we "sparkle" and no he is not
kicking me, we just have great moves together!