Living Your Life

Posted in Just thinking with tags , , on April 25, 2016 by shebatt

In three days I leave for my trip to Scotland. Needless to say I am as excited as I am stressed. Of course my car is acting up right before I leave, I don’t have everything packed and work is crazy right now.

Why am I taking the time to write a blog… well I want to be clear about a few things.

First off, let me say I know I am lucky to have the chance to travel but it is not just luck. I have worked long hours and given up a lot of things to make this happen. I do not have cable for my TV and I don’t have internet at home. What do I do for down time you ask, I read.

It is hard to go through life without the media most people have in their lives but at the same time it is very liberating. I have also not gone out and spent money on things like new clothing, shoes, meals out, and so on. It takes discipline in this economic state. Also remember you don’t own your things they own you. With that in mind I never buy things I want, I only buy things I need.

(But) The thing I want to say most in this post, is you don’t need to go across the world to find adventures. You just have to go outside your own front door. Turn off your television and go outside. If you don’t have a camera but a camera phone then try taking some photos. If you don’t even have that that is okay. You don’t need a camera to make memories, just your own mind.

Walk around your own city, learn the history of it, eat at the local food stands. Pretend like you are visiting your own city like you never have seen it before. If you have to, pretend you are doing an episode of your own travel show and explore. Your home town’s history might not be as exciting as San Francisco’s gold rush or as ancient as Athens but it might surprise you.

Enjoy…

 

 

 

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Staying Strong (Written 1/31/2001)

Posted in Batt Rantts with tags , , , , on April 4, 2016 by shebatt

I weep for the pains of the past
Where I had to stand strong and
there was no time for tears
I weep for the years

I sing the song of sorrow
For all the broken hearts
when love was unrequited
there was only to go on
I sing the saddest song

I mourn the loss of those
who were dear and when
the longing of the company
had not completely sunk in
I mourn for those who have been

I ache for the transgressions of man
for killing their brothers
in the name of borders, money, and God
watching nations fall
I ache for the woes of how we’ve evolved.

 

We are a moment

Posted in Batt Rantts, Just thinking with tags , , on March 28, 2016 by shebatt

Centuries ago primitive man carved stones, struck coins, fashioned pots, forged swords, and created civilization.

It is my belief those of us who collect antiquity do not hold ownership of such things. These things have lived for centuries before us and will possibly live for centuries after we are gone. We come and go, live and die, and passed through our lives as just moments in comparison to these ancient tems. These objects from antiquity really honestly own us. We are just their servants, their caregivers, their pets watching over them as they exist through time. Just like the land we are but a brief moments compared to somewhat eternal life.

Spring’s coming adventue

Posted in Uncategorized on February 11, 2016 by shebatt

I just stepped outside of my work, out on the loading dock. The air is heavy and warm, somewhere the world knows it is spring. La Vie En Rose has been playing on my computer for the last hour or so while doing my work. Melody Gardot, Edith Piaf, Lewis Armstrong,  Dean Martin, all do versions worth listing to. Not sure which is my favorite but I do know they all pretty much inspire the same melancholy happiness. Most people don’t think those two words work together but for me they do. Having that in my mind while enjoying the spring air…

I know spring is here I can feel it in the air, see it with the bright yellow sour grass clover blooming all over the roadside, I can hear it in the abundance of birds singing inadvisable but unmistakably there.  It always makes me happy when spring comes. Winter is coming to an end and soon a new adventure will start for me.

Last year in spring I went to Italy for my first time. It was an adventure of a lifetime and I can’t wait to go back. That will not be for a few years though since there are so many other places I want to see which I have not seen yet. But the desire to move to Italy still holds strong in my heart.

This year the plans are set in motion to go to Scotland. We are going to the Edinburgh Beltane fire festival. From there we are heading to a small town off of the Kyles of Bute in Argyll, where my friend Stella (my main traveling companion)  has an acquaintance who will be giving us an art class. After this we head into the highlands for a few days. Even though it is late in the season and the chances are very slim, I am hoping to see the northern lights while there. From the highlands we are heading down the east cost and have plans to stay in a castle hotel that looks amazing. We then return to Edinburgh to finish the tours we miss seeing at the beginning of the trip.

There will be three of us this time on this trip. I refer to us as the blonde, the brunette and the redhead and we plan on dazzling Scotland. I had never thought I would visit Scotland until a few years ago. I started planning a trip for my Ex-boyfriend and myself, but gave that up when I realized he would never amount to anything in my life other then a brick around my neck and I dumped his ass. I have not bothered to get involved since him, since I know I just don’t need any baggage any longer and that is what most men look like to me these days. I know pathetic.

But I digress. I had started planning that trip which was going to start in Scotland and end in Italy. In the process I educated myself on Scotland. Now, knowing I am going I can hardly remember the things I learned three/four years ago. Well not completely, there are a few things I remember and those have been added into this trip’s plans.

I am looking forward to the thousands of photos I get to take, the smell of the Scottish flowers in the spring sunshine, and the smell of the North Sea in the morning while sipping hot tea.  I can imagine the color of the green grass mixed with the purple heather, littered with the rocks and boulders that have been left there by a geological tumultuous past. I always loved to travel and see new things but now it is more then just a love it is what feeds my soul and replenishes my belief in life.

More to come….

 

 

 

 

Writen in April 97

Posted in Uncategorized on December 30, 2015 by shebatt

Why is it every year a dumb ass graduates from the halls of the Ivy league.

No brains to speak of but Daddy pays his way.
No thinking part exists but he can run on instincts.

He has his phallic passport to the world outside.

Imagination

Posted in Just thinking with tags , on December 30, 2015 by shebatt

This was written in 2015 at some point but I never finished it. Someday maybe…=

As children we have the ability to dream give us a cardboard box or just a little cubbyhole somewhere in the couch cushions and we lay back and imagine palaces, grand homes or magical places that don’t exist in the real world.

As we grow older our time to dream goes away, our ability to lose ourselves in our imaginations disappears. We start in those happier places as children but when can we point to where we grow old? When do we forget that we dreamed?

I am 50 years old now and I try so hard to think back to those magical time when I was able to let my mind go to places that never existed. I still try to find that place in my heart where only magic exists.

 

 

My Mother’s Voice

Posted in Just thinking on December 4, 2015 by shebatt

When I was a little girl my favorite time of year was Christmas. I am sure this is true with a lot of kids. Now as an adult one of my favorite memories is of my mother at Christmas time.

It is not because she would bake endless batches of Christmas cookies, because in truth she did not. She couldn’t bake a boxed cake with out something going wrong. It was not because of the big Christmas dinner she would make and even if she could not bake she could cook like no one else. She was a great cook. Mom did her best at making Christmas a wonderful thing for all of us, in generic American way. We had no special traditions taught to us from Grandparents from the “Old Country” or anything special like that. Just a standard Red and Green store bought Christmas in our house.

What I remember about my mother is more personal and more comical than that and one of the most cherished things in my memory. Mom’s favorite singer was Frank Sinatra and so, of course, we had his Christmas album. Every year we got that tired old scratch piece of vinyl out and played it along with only a small handful of others she owned. When the song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” would come on, she would sing along with the background singers.

Well for those of you who never had the chance to know my mom she was more vivacious then all of her kids put together, kind as a person could be and had a zany side that is only reviled by my sister Renee (who I will write about sometime soon). But here is the funny part, Mom could Not sing. She was as tone deaf as a brick and when she would start singing along with the LP she would hit every note but the ones they were singing. I remember hearing her do that for the first time as a very young child. I must have turned every shade of red out of embarrassment for her and I know she saw it in my eyes and on my face. She looked at me and smiled with her own cheeks turning a little pink from being caught singing out of key. She said something about her not being able to sing but enjoying doing it. I was too young to clearly remember what she said, I must have been only about 3 or 4 years old. This early exchange between us did not stop her from doing it year after year still out of key and still straight from her heart.

Now, what feels like at least 5 life times later, whenever I hear that song I am taken back to that moment. The one moment in time when my mother and I shared a smile and a Christmas song. I know for a fact it was not my mother’s favorite but it is one of mine, because of her. Now as a grown woman, whenever I hear that song at Christmas time, I hear my mother’s voice singing along. It is as if a little wormhole in time and space opens up and her voice comes ringing though it. It makes me miss her. It makes me wish I could go back in time and sing with her. It makes me yearn to hear her voice once again, whether its singing out of key, yelling for me to get the phone, or talking to us at the dinner table.

For those of you who have lost your mother at some point in your life I am sure you can understand that there is no sound more beautiful than you own mother’s voice.