tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35390463923261136362024-03-04T23:44:09.676-08:00An Artist Among Thievesannetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-4913120335059106412011-01-21T12:11:00.000-08:002011-01-21T12:11:00.793-08:00Beauty EverywhereBeauty is everywhere depending of course on your own definition of what beauty means. I think it's hearing the sound and echoes of love in a mother's voice as she tears up listening to her son's tale of finding the woman he wants to marry. It's about seeing someone you love asleep, their eyebrows perfectly shaped and unmoving, their closed eyes transluscent against the dim light. Lamplit photographs are beauty. So are homemade cookies. So much beauty everywhere.....let's celebrate beauty every single day of 2011. I'm going to.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-25548930729872187752010-10-28T11:29:00.000-07:002010-10-28T11:29:59.679-07:00expectations and disappointmenteveryone struggles with this, I think--the feeling of disappointment when expectations aren't met. so why do we even bother having expectations? I expected a lot from being a mother and I didn't get what I wanted; I expected a lot out of a new relationship I'm in and I haven't really been happy. I am one of those kinds of women who will live on and on with disappointment; it colors my every action. my every thought. Because i have been disappointed a lot. some would say my expectations have always been too high. i beg to disagree. I just think that everyone should do what I want them to do and things would be great. My daughter would be an award winning cross country runner about to get a full ride scholarship to college; she would do the dishes without ever being asked; she wouldn't defy her curfews and every other rule or boundary I set up for her. she would ask me how my day was instead of hibernating in her room. But disappoinment is really a waste of time. So I guess I'll just shut up and live with it.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-74425717828567398532010-10-20T12:27:00.000-07:002010-10-20T12:27:51.682-07:00endings and changesevery part of life has changes and endings and some people adjust better than others. i don't happen to like changes and endings. I get down in the dumps. I analyze until it makes me sick. i feel helpless and hopeless.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-2828973174998176662010-10-12T12:53:00.000-07:002010-10-12T12:53:59.829-07:00jumbles of thoughtsyard sales i like and mean people i do not like.<br />
cats i like and dogs i can put up with.<br />
i like the way the sun casts light across the turqouise carpet<br />
i like to watch people sleep<br />
coffee tastes bitter but good<br />
the car needs an oil change<br />
some people like to dress up in clown clothes<br />
my boyfriend eats ice cream for breakfast<br />
rivers thrill me<br />
i like roller coasters in the evening when its sprinkling hail<br />
the sky is bluer than my daughter's eyes<br />
but all in all<br />
a poem is the greatest invention everannetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-13671223421907115652010-10-12T10:34:00.000-07:002010-10-12T10:34:42.247-07:00a new belt, some potatoes, and the suni want to write a bunch of details about how my Tuesday has been going but there are so many i am temporarily overwhelmed!!!annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-54715785823883056652010-10-07T10:58:00.000-07:002010-10-07T10:58:53.904-07:00Broken heartsA broken heart is contagious. Because if I have a broken heart, then it passes on to my daughter through my erratic and depressed behavior, my inconsistency, my inability to fully function. Now I have a broken-hearted, down-spirited seventeen year old to help. I am trying.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-7911429928776851402010-09-28T12:15:00.000-07:002010-09-28T12:15:25.811-07:00What to do with a DaughterWhat do you do when you realize you and your daughter get along as badly as you and your Mom do? that's a big reality to face. it hurts. i see it every day with my seventeen year old. Every day i know what I face as she turns eighteen: she will just disappear. i won't know where she is, what she is doing, what she thinks. Well, that won't be that much different from now, since i can't say with any truth that I know what she thinks about cause she just doesn't tell me.and when she does tell me something and i give her my take on it, she just gets mad. it's hard. i don't know how to salvage these last few months of her senior year. any advice much appreciated, thank you. send comments to annetibbitts@usa.netannetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-37924694696096805702010-09-23T06:38:00.000-07:002010-09-23T06:38:15.393-07:00The Grandma Trenkle Trapwhat do you do when you think about something all the time but can't get up the nerve or find the right time to bring it up? I am not the only woman who goes through this process. But I am aware of the consequences of keeping something you need to talk about or know about all to yourself. What can happen is that in your mind you start to make decisions and assumptions about what's going on when in fact you don't even have all the necessary information to do that. My Grandma Trenkle used to be like that with her family. She'd start slamming cabinet doors and I'd know something was wrong but when I'd ask her the proverbial "nothing" was her response. So I walk a fine line right now. I see myself falling into the Grandma Trap in my mind, but not acting it out in person. Yet. That's the operative word. I'm in a new relationship that brings a lot of questions to my mind but mostly i'm keeping them to myself trying to wait it out. If I can just stay steady and not ever get to the point of slamming cabinets.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-34602148685839269332010-09-23T04:27:00.000-07:002010-09-23T04:27:00.120-07:00The Relief of a Weight LiftedI used to keep a cluttered home. Not because i wanted to, just that i had moved so much that I had all sorts of things and collectibles and photos and important papers stuffed into suitcases and footlockers that i intended to go through but just never did. Well, the day came when I had the inspiration and moral support to go through all this junk so I did. It wasn't easy; it wore me out emotionally.Yesterday I slept all day and night I was so tired from the day before. But now I can sit in a whole new living room. I marvel at a room where when I look at it I don't see a single thing that needs to be moved or gone through. No stacks of old suitcases that supposedly looked "shabby chic." No old sentimental footlockers gracing the floors. No more miscellaneous bags or boxes of my old writings. Everything is in its place and it looks fantastic. I almost don't know what to do with myself sitting in a room like that knowing it's clean and uncluttered and settled. That's why I'm back in my cluttered writing area. Sometimes the relief of a weight lifted is just to heavy to bear.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-81067006539168396052010-09-21T12:09:00.000-07:002010-09-21T12:09:55.640-07:00the old suitcasesi recently threw away some old vintage suitcases i had been using for storage and decoration. i had to look through each and every one, touching old writing, old bills, photographs, drawings, junk like old buttons and some dirty pennies. I got through the mess though, caused by years of packing and moving, packing and moving, and decided to throw out the suitcases all together. Well, my seventeen year old daughter had a fit. which is terribly ironic since she hasn't liked the "martha stewart vintage suitcase" look ever. But she thought someone influenced me to throw them away. i had to set her straight--that wasn't the case! I finally had the moral support, reason, inspiration and physical energy to go through everything and consolidate a bunch of stuff into two Rubbermaid plastic tubs that now hold my life souveniers safely and dry under the house. My daughter's dream is coming true--we're going to have a "real" living room. she just doesn't know much of what it's like to have a dream come true.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-6166315348005280372010-09-16T11:31:00.000-07:002010-09-16T12:26:47.620-07:00Autumn LetterIt's easy to get excited about the fall season. Cool weather, falling leaves, fires, hot coffee on the patio, acorns falling everywhere. There will be hunting and fishing. there will be walks in the woods. there will be days spent with open windows and cool autumn air flowing into the kitchen while homemade cookies bake for ten minutes in a hot oven. there will be time to explore your grandpa's farm with all its mystery, beauty, and good memories for you. There will be jackets and sweaters and a red plaid Vermont snow coat to look forward to. An old green cardigan. Sturdy shoes. Lots of homemade soup and bread. Our first fall season together. Going to the woods and the lakes. fishing poles and guns. Homemade sandwiches and a thermos full of hot coffee. the memory of wearing orange a distant thought far away. Birds will flock to the feeder, rabbits will jump to the sound of your feet in the woods, water will trickle just to delight your senses. there will be rainy cool afternoons spent under the quilts, talking. there will be snow to wait for!<br />
This will be an Autumn of Great Love!!! Thank you in advance...annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-1439479596233038222010-09-14T10:37:00.000-07:002010-09-14T10:37:06.485-07:00Idea City!!!Ideas come to me like lightbulbs turning on all day long. It wears me out. I love to feel creative, don't get me wrong; but when ideas come faster than what you can possibly do with them that's when things get tough. I've got a new idea for yet ANother book I want to write called The Trailer Diaries about two bi-polar mothers who forge a close friendship. I have all the raw material necessary to write the book, but the thought of dredging through old memories and experiences just wears me out. It's a necessary book, though, because there's not one like it on the market already; I've done some research and discovered that much. So let's see what I can get going on that new idea this week. At least i can try.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-27058766656256915472010-09-13T12:25:00.000-07:002010-09-13T12:25:33.617-07:00love glowsi love fried poataoes and rain on a winter tin roof. Cats are good too, and so is love. Life with love in it takes on a whole new meaning. Everything shines. Everything glows. The sky looks huge like a full moon and rain feels like snowflakes in spring. Love is like a melted snowman in february, a new batch of homemade cookies, a fresh pot of coffee. i love love. do you?annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-1041572469643410282010-09-09T11:04:00.000-07:002010-09-09T11:04:21.956-07:00at a loss for ideasat a loss for ideas. umbrellas and fried potatoes. too many random unconnected thoughts. the beginning of a new book that just went flat cause a couple people said they didn't like it. bad coffee. watching tv re-runs.waiting for a new life to begin on saturday. bills to pay and where will the money all come from worries even at the beginning of the month. unpublished poems everywhere and half started novels. my favorite color used to be orange, now I just feel blue.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-7967152152889941502010-09-03T12:34:00.000-07:002010-09-03T12:39:24.660-07:00The Difference A Garage MakesI was thinking about garages last night, and how they come in all shapes and sizes. Even a carport would be nice. I have never lived anywhere with a garage. Now maybe that seems unremarkable, but since I am now 48 years old, I have to look back over my life and ask "Why?" Why have I never lived in a place with a garage? Garages afford a private place to do laundry, work on the car, store the artificial Christmas tree...store the recyclables, have a sale! Garages seem to be success symbols to my eyes. People who have garages are protected from the weather when going to and from their car. People who have garages, especially attached ones, live a strangely luxurious life, I think. I hope by the time I am 58, I can look back at this blog entry and say "Well, that was written BEFORE I ever had a garage!!!" Then, i will consider myself to have "arrived."annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-57677821579185060142010-09-02T12:10:00.000-07:002010-09-02T12:34:46.534-07:00Mothers and DaughtersMuch has already been written about the often stormy relationships between many mothers and daughters. There are self help groups, books, and websites designed to coach mothers through the difficult teenage years, for example, but those too can go out the window when all of a mother's buttons get pushed by her teenage daughter who knows everything. An emotional Catastrophe can take place. Yelling. Crying. Accusing. Blaming. Retracting. Fury and Loathing. Resentment. Gut-wrenching honesty. Explosive family drama doesn't just happen in the movies or in books. It happens every day in a household with a seventeen year old girl and a worried 48 year old mother. What is more frustrating to an experienced 48 year old woman than to have to listen to the rantings of a seventeen year old convinced she knows everything. It's horrible to live through that kind of torment. It truly tears into the hearts of all concerned. It gives you a headache, the kind you get after sobbing for an hour. It gives you courage, the kind you get after discovering some of the truth behind the teenager's comments. It gives you a heartache, the kind you get after a word-fight that cuts to the core and leaves scars even after its supposedly healed. And at what price do these kinds of emotional explosions occur? What toll do they take on all concerned? It's terrible to realize that you are just like your mother: stubborn, unforgiving, blame-filled, and angry. When will these generational atrocities just stop? When can the healing begin? After an emotional catharsis in a family, the only thing to do is laugh, hug, smile, and try to make it as smoothly as possible to the next episode. It's life in a powder keg, this mother daughter stuff is.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-34232670578195932112010-09-02T12:03:00.000-07:002010-09-02T12:07:20.558-07:00TransitionsTransitions get overlooked in our fast-paced society. Taking time to move from one phase of life to another is an important but often overlooked and underrated process. Many people just gloss over the seams that hold the fabric of relationships together. Some relationships are glued together, some pinned, some taped, some sewn, some bound forever. But all relationships involve transitions and the transitions ought to be respected and even revered for their specialness. Take the time to honor transitional periods of life.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-20299965247368136942010-08-31T12:13:00.000-07:002010-09-03T12:33:47.026-07:00Who Will Be Your Baby's Daddy?My daughter is seventeen and is making some questionable choices about boys she likes. I thought of something new to explain to her today as I was thinking about it for a long time: choose a guy to date based on whether you think he would make a good father to your children. It may sound old-fashioned or weird, but what's wrong with using this standard to measure potential dates by? If teenagers did use this standard, maybe they would think before they act. Actually, you don't have to be a teenager to use this standard. Women of all ages get pregnant and have children, so maybe if we all thought this way fewer children would be born into homes with no decent father. My daughter basically grew up without a father in her life. She has one, but he has always lived in Hawaii and we don't see him much--which is actually a good thing. Suffice it to say that if I had applied the same standards I am trying to teach her to myself seventeen years ago, i guess i wouldn't be writing a blog to my daughter, now would I?annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-49979864938409431872010-08-26T10:30:00.000-07:002010-08-26T10:39:04.887-07:00a new character--OliviaOlivia was a basket case the morning she found out her dog had been hit by a car. She went ahead and made coffee because she knew Barney was coming over to visit. Barney would know what to do about burying her dead dog. She couldn't just leave the dead dog to the spot by the tree where she had dragged it. Barney liked his coffee strong and black so she set out to grind some French Roast beans and fill the coffee pot with filtered water. Olivia's medicine sat on the kitchen table untouched. She knew she needed to take it--it had been four days since she had taken her last dosage.Sometimes she just didn't care. But now she had reached a crisis point. Four days with no medicine and a bright beautiful morning only to discover her dead dog on the road by the circle drive. Should she take it as an omen? No, it wasn't time to over react. She just needed to drink some coffee and visit with Barney.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-69502518826416600432010-08-24T11:00:00.000-07:002010-08-24T11:10:56.961-07:00Writing About LoveLove is an action, a hope, a longing, an excitement, an adventure, a thrill, something to look forward to, something to share. Love is about togetherness, uniqueness, beauty, and grace. Love is also about sadness, disappointment, anger, the need for privacy, and misunderstanding. So all these things may be taken into consideration when writing love poems and love letters. Not everything you write needs to be shared. Sometimes just the act of writing itself can be helpful. But if you think you want to share your love writings, then use lots of specific details and sensory descriptions. Exaggerate. Embellish. Really go all out. Use your experiences and your imagination together to build and create some awesome love writings. Make stuff up. Let yourself just make stuff up. It won't be easy at first because most of you are inclined to want to tell only the truth, but you have to elevate your writing to a new level when writing to or for a loved one. And remember that your love writing might be shared with others someday. Good writing always is.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-51318838285561481222010-08-23T08:40:00.000-07:002010-08-23T08:46:03.876-07:00A Writer's Office<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjword1vKkSvSfVj1q_D2kJlNN9zaeFqH2R-cTF69P41SBG4LVEpe1esc5yNItxxoTx2bTjPZbpi2Z2HVlcFM_eTbCfTIYeaYdqz1eUJ0ezOfmEKb9Ifw-50c9zadPsZHDyF72NBALoJyc/s1600/anne's+office+001.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjword1vKkSvSfVj1q_D2kJlNN9zaeFqH2R-cTF69P41SBG4LVEpe1esc5yNItxxoTx2bTjPZbpi2Z2HVlcFM_eTbCfTIYeaYdqz1eUJ0ezOfmEKb9Ifw-50c9zadPsZHDyF72NBALoJyc/s400/anne's+office+001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508631144252184770" /></a><br />A writer's office is a very personal space. Much goes into the decorations, the chair, the table, what is on the walls, and such. My office sort of evolved over a period of months. Now, I have dismantled it all by moving--again--so I have to start from scratch and the first decision I have to make is where to put my table and chair and computer. I know I don't want i to be right by the TV where it is now cause it's in the way there. I haven't felt at home in my office since i moved and i think it's because i haven't put the stuff in order yet. That has to be this week's priority. An office can only become productive when it suits the writer to a T. Or is that just another excuse i make up for not being able to write consistently? Only time will tell.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-3828426590662116932010-08-21T14:59:00.000-07:002010-08-21T15:11:18.450-07:00Chapter about BarneyBarney's Grandpa had raised him. Every Sunday, Barney and his Grandpa went to church riding in an old yellow Pinto. Grandpa was a tall man and it was hard for him to crunch his legs behind the wheel of a Pinto but he had got the car at an auction for twenty five bucks and it ran good and got excellent gas mileage and if Grandpa was anything he was practical and he'd always say it wasn't too much for a man to suffer a little discomfort in order to save a few bucks on the outrageous price of gasoline in the United States of America. Grandpa was a veteran. He'd served his time in the Army and had helped fight to preserve freedom and he was proud of that but he was also bitter about the fact that when he came back from the war his government didn't do more to honor what he'd lost to help them gain. Going to church though, grandpa told Barney one Bible quote after the other to impress upon his grandson that it wasn't right to let yourself get too caught up in the workings of the U.S. Government and that he should just remember that Jesus died on the Cross for all of us imperfect sinners and that no matter how bad things might seem to be, there was always hope cause of Jesus.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-29259028532763381282010-08-21T05:06:00.000-07:002010-08-21T07:01:47.737-07:00The Letting GoLetting go of memories, people, material possessions, animals, attitudes...all can be difficult to do. It is the letting go that makes us whole again, though. Sometimes holding on to something immaterial or material can bring a person down and the only way to lighten the load is to let go of something. The more I practice this belief the healthier i feel; I also feel happier.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-15364345933700514912010-08-20T12:22:00.000-07:002010-08-20T12:32:08.581-07:00friendships...againIt's a Friday of a long, long last couple of weeks. Yesterday i wrote about the emotional disasters of friendships and today i am still living it. I think it's always hard to have a friendship between three women. Unless you are always on three way conference call things get said from one to one to the other and who knows what was REALLY said. So much depends on interpretation and perception. So much depends on how afraid you are of confrontation and conflict, too. I tend to want to avoid it, as most sensible people do, but lately I am in the middle of a bunch of it and i just don't like how that makes me feel. It robs me of my creative edge, my emotional energy and my mood starts to get low. I worry a lot. I fret. I over analyze. I try to make amends when i really don't want to just because i hate the feeling of ill will. It's not easy to break up a "girlfriendship." And why is that? Why is it easier to just leave a guy in the dust but not be able to even start the car to get away from a girlfriend? I know it's not very courageous or even honest to just not answer the phone, but that seems the easiest way in this day and age of "voicemail." Now I am faced with the idea of just taking a breather from the friendship to see what it is that settles after all the dust leaves. I need to understand what my true feelings are in order to take any or no action. But it feels so urgent, so much like I have to know right now exactly what to do....I'll have to continue my analysis and follow my heart, I guess. All I really know is I want to get back to writing poetry and writing my love novel about Lily and Hunter and their school bus life. Those have got to be my priorities....annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3539046392326113636.post-69992527464051961122010-08-19T10:44:00.000-07:002010-08-19T10:51:42.856-07:00The Emotional Disasters of FriendshipWhen a natural disaster strikes, people are often caught without warning; and so it is with emotional disasters of friendship. I've lived through one recently with two of my best friends and the recovery process is proving difficult yet interesting. Even though I am almost 48 years old, I still have a lot to learn about friendship, loyalty, healing, grief and love.<br /><br />When does a person decide that enough is enough? How many times does a person feel they have to be loyal to a friend but their heart tells them differently? And aren't friendships breaking up just as hard as any other relationship?<br /><br />How does a person know when their "I'm really sorry" is genuine or just meant to make the other person feel good?<br /><br />These are some of the issues I struggle with on a daily basis and soon want them to come to an end, a resolution. I have decided that some things aren't worth reconstructing after a disaster, as hard as it is to let them go.annetibbittshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18316865722047697089noreply@blogger.com0