My Lips Are Sealed 💋

Oh…the Sandbox Writing Challenge is proving to be not so fun a place to play!! It’s asking us if we want to share a secret?!?! Something we’ve done that nobody knows about. My response was a Hell No!!! And then the next thing to come to mind was the song by the All-American-Rejects…Dirty Little Secret 

Then I took a Soul Stroll into town, mulling it over, and came up with this….

You asked if I had secrets

Secrets I wish to share

They’re written in my journals

And whispered in the air…..

Some secrets are meant for keeping

Not meant to be said aloud

A little bit of mystery

Hidden behind the shroud

Confessed to my Creator

To set myself free

Forgiveness was given

Whole-Hearted and Lovingly.


That, dear friends and readers of the Sandbox, is about as much as I wish to reveal. 🙊

 ……..and for your listening pleasure Our Lips Are Sealed



I’m Worth Keeping……

   I find myself once again, in the sandbox, digging deep into places that haven’t been touched in sometime. The Sandbox Writing Challenge asked the question: If you could, what parts of yourself would you throw out?

Really?!?! That’s a hell of a question to be asking someone who’s been working so hard to accept themself in every which way……even the parts that I would throw out play a part in who I am. My feeling on this is, if I should/could throw away some aspect of who I am,,I’ll lose part of myself.. .My flaws, my imperfections, my idiosyncrasies make me who I am, they make me a whole person,,slightly cracked and skewed, but Me none-the-less.

 So, my answer is…I wouldn’t throw any part of me out to the curb. That’s not to say I won’t keep working and striving to change some things,,,but you won’t find me on the garbage heap! 


Out Of The Dark..Comes The Light 🕯

Time for more digging in the sandbox over at The Sandbox Writing Challenge. We are being asked to share What is one of the worst emotional storms you’ve weathered in your life?

I decided to take this one down to the wire with it being Chrismas and all……..

I’ve weathered many a storm, and no doubt there will be others……the one I’m sharing was what I call hitting my preverbial rock bottom. It was springtime of my 38th year. I’d been married for almost 19 years by that point. Most unhappily and emotionally abusive. We’d separated twice during that time, only to get back together, with promises of change on both our parts. Why I have no idea. We I was miserable. He was content so long as I abided by his rules..dressing a certain way……I could have friends so long as he approved. I wasn’t suppose to have opinions. I’d go along for a while to keep the peace. But there would come that day when my inner spirit would try and break free…and the vicious cycle of dysfunction would start all over again. Life was a series of put downs and arguments.

There came a point where I started to withdraw…I. Just. Stopped. Caring. I’d get the kids off to school, and go back to bed. I’d make dinner. Sleep. Cry. What was wrong with me?! I started to think everything/everyone would be better off without me. I started to think plan. I can park my car in the garage after the kids go to school. Just friggin end it all. Or swallow some pills. Anything was better than this pain. I was numb, filled with despair, and tired of living……………I contemplated for weeks. I was mortified with myself for even thinking this, to think this was my only way out. That I would put my children through something so horrible was atrociously selfish. Something finally snapped and I knew I had to get help. 

I turned to my neighbors and friends, S and T.  A nurse practioner and counselor, they both became my confidants. They listened. Then listened some more. They gave me a job, and slowly that numbness subsided. With their help, I worked hard to pull myself out of that abyss I let myself fall into. Hopelessness slowly gave way to hope……that hope gave me the confidence to end the marriage that was slowly killing me……..

 I’ve experienced other dark moments and pit falls, but I’ve never fallen that deep again. I now know the light is always there…..journaling, my soul strolls and the love of self help keep me in the light, as does the love of my husband, my children and grandchildren….life is definitely worth living 🙏

If I Could Do One Thing…….

This weeks assignment over at The Sandbox Writing Challenge  Calen wants to know….If there was a Crystal Ball and If you could foresee one accomplishment in your future, what would you like it to be?

For me, My children are my biggest and proudest accomplishment. With all the mistakes I’ve made, they’ve grown into 3 amazing adults. They humble me, they’ve forgiven me my past poor choices that did affect them, And they tell me through my mistakes and my love for them, they’ve learned from me….Somewhere along the way I did something right.


But that doesn’t fully answer the question now does it?! If I could accomplish one thing, and I’m not sure if this fits under accomplish so much as a dream, and money wasn’t an issue…Id like to buy a ton of land so I can save all the wild mustangs. Each January, I search for a ranch that’s for sale with as much land as possible. I print it out, tack it on my vision board, along with pictures of the horses I’d like to save and set free. Right now, my ranch and land of choice is in Wyoming….

This upsets me….these magnificent animals deserve to live their lives running free…… Not running from helicopters.


One day I’d like this to be a thing of the past……


And this be the horses and my future…their freedom and me getting to photograph them…..Operation Save The Wild Mustangs and Linda Living In Wide Open Spaces Accomplished!!!! 


Taking A Risk On Love

Week 15 here at The Sandbox Writing Challenge: Risks Calen is asking the question What risks have you taken in your life?

Taking a risk on love….

Growing up, I was given a warped sense of what love was really all about. We moved from town to town while my mother chased her men, looking for love in all the wrong places. She married 6 times, with a bunch of boyfriends in-between. Not exactly role model material.

My first go at what I thought was love came at 16. Really, I know, who the hell knows anything about love at that age. His name was Louie and I thought I knew it all. When the hitting started, I thought I deserved it. He’d apologize. Tell me he loved me. Things would be ok, for a while. Until the next time. And the next. The hitting got worse, but I wanted this to work. I needed it to work. He said he loved me. Silly girl. Then the night came when he had me pinned against the car, and he started to strangle me. I saw stars and then started to black out. I was saved by a neighbor, but still to stupid and naïve to do anything, at first. I eventually got a restraining order against him. He actually ended up in prison for killing someone………as for me, I was still hoping to find love.

At 18, I met Tim. He was the opposite of Louie. He was older. He didn’t hit. He wanted to be with me, always, and he loved me. He told me so. So, he didn’t want me having friends. All we needed was each other. We got pregnant. We married. We had more children. I thought it was love. But something was missing. We’d split up. We’d get back together again. He said he loved me, and as long as I acted and looked the way he wanted me to, it/we worked. Something was missing, always missing. I’d read and re-read Bridges Of Madison County and cry, wanting a love like Francesca and Robert. I wanted someone to love me like that (only in books and movies right?!)  I still believed in the whole concept of LOVE, but what I still wasn’t quite grasping at the time was I truly Believed that I needed the love of a man to validate me.

A lot of years would go by before I started to realize I needed to love myself first.

It was the beginning of the end for us. Though it would be 20 years before I found the strength and courage to end things for good. I believe now,that the one and only reason he and I were meant to be together in any way was so that we could have our children. All three of them are meant to be here and have a purpose. To be fair, this isn’t about bashing Tim. He’s a good man and father to our children and pop-pop to our grandchildren. But when we needed to be honest with each other and recognize that what we had wasn’t the kind of love we both deserved, he was willing to continue to settle for things the way they were, and I couldn’t do that anymore. It wasn’t fair to either of us.

So, at 39 we separated. He didn’t want it, but I knew it was finally over. I moved into a spare room, and continued to work as I tried to figure things out. Then I bumped into a man who I used to work with, and my life was to be forever changed. I knew Jim from work. He was a butcher at our local store, and I was a baker. (True story!) We’d say hello, that sort of thing, but that was it.  I then left the store and took employment elsewhere, and didn’t see him for a long time. When we unexpectedly bumped into each other, we said hello and in conversation, we found out we both had separated from out spouses. He after 30 years, me 20. We chatted some more and decided we’d meet up for lunch one of these days. That day would come a month later. We bought sandwiches, some Rolling Rock Beer and spent that afternoon sitting on his friends boat on the lake. We talked. We talked some more. And then we sat. In complete silence, we sat and looked out at the water, and it was the most comfortable silence I’d ever felt. We became friends. He encouraged. He listened. And then something amazing happened……….

I felt my inner Spirit start to come back to life. For the first time, I was  able to openly acknowledge ME. I was FINALLY  finding the  love I’d been looking for all this time, love for myself. I grew up thinking and believing that I needed the love of a man to be whole, when what I needed was to love myself first. How could I love anyone if I couldn’t love me?

Along this journey of mine, not only did I find love for myself, I also found the love of this amazing man. My best friend. Bottom line….Love is worth the Risk!!!