Never too late I tell you

I’ve been told writing is a discipline. If this is true then I suppose it is comparable to brushing teeth or using your parking break when you’re on a hill. If THAT’S true, then I suppose I might as well not even bother to brush my teeth or use my parking break since that is about how I feel about my own discipline as a writer. I mean seriously, besides having horrible cavities and/or rolling away on a hill, I don’t suppose anything horrible can come from not exercising those disciplines. So with writing, not publishing my book that millions of people will read, and having a horrible smile and sores on my feet from having to walk everywhere for lack of car then… wait I totally lost that train of thought.

So I was thinking about all this one day, at a coffee shop of all places, sipping a latte of all drinks, and I said to myself, “Self, you need to practice this discipline of writing. You must write even when you don’t feel like it. Right here, right now, here on this very wobbly table, drinking that latte before your car rolls away.” So I did. I busted out a pen and paper and I did it. I wrote. I write. And I will write again. 


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Memoirs of a Nanny: 01

Sometimes they just repeat things over and over, and sometimes I think it’s to convince themselves of whatever it is they’re repeating.

Today we walked about 200 yards up the mountain and the only thing I heard besides the shuffling of David’s feet was his brother’s insistance that we be quiet so as not to wake the bears. “Got ‘ta be quiet, don’t want ‘ta wake up the bears!”After about 10 minutes of this I told him not to worry, if there were any
sleeping bears, we probably wouldn’t wake them, even if we tried.
At this point we found a nice flat rock to take a break on. (We are only 200 yards out keep in mind, but yes, we needed a break.) Another 10 minutes of worrisome bear talk and I told him we should talk about something else, like how we can go to the park when it’s warm or how we can hear all the little birdies churping at that very moment. At the mention of the park, Jonathan perked up. “Yes! We can go ‘ta tha park when it’s warm!” I was relieved he was on a new subject now. But then he kept going… “We can go to the park buhcause there aren’t any bears there!”
After I smacked my forehead against my palm with a mixture of frustration and amusement, we concluded it was too chilly and we needed to go back to the house. And so we adjourned, making sure to be quiet so as not to wake up any sleeping carnivores. I must have said 5 or 6 times, “Let’s not talk about bears anymore.” But to no avail for the entire walk home was narrated by little voices repeating phrases like “Bears are bad.” “Bears are not good” “Only friendly bears can be in the house.”, “Be quiet! Don’t want ‘ta wake the bears!”
By the time we reached the porch and got our shoes off, David said to Jonathan: “go in quick Jono, we can’t let the bears get inside!”
To which I replied: “Yeah! Bears can’t be in the house!”
To which Jono replied:

Let’s just not talk about bears anymore.

The next palm to forehead was out of pure bafflement.

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June 3, 2012 · 2:38 am

Memiors of a Nanny: prelude

I had to sneak past a sleeping 3.5 year old this morning in search of coffee. I could smell it the moment I opened my door at 7:00 Am. We nannies have a special talent for sneaking about and finding coffee. My room has a small window that overlooks the playroom which also conveniently doubles as the twins’ bedroom. I peeked out this small window to catch a glimpse of David, his bed neatly tucked into the corner, but I didn’t see him. No sign of the little redhead. No snoring, no squirming pajamas, nothing. Then I heard it. The pitter-patter overhead and the gentle voice of his mother, no doubt she already had a cup of that aromatic coffee in hand.

Beware tractors and dump trucks everywhere, David has arisen. 

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these weekends


Last night my nephew was born, and I spent a majority of my sister’s painful labor in her basement keeping her snoozing dog company. It was a home-birth.  It was very cool.


Madison is a very old and very patient dog who normally isn’t allowed on the furniture. But tonight she was livin’ it up on the futon.

As I chomped away at pretzels and watched Mythbusters, waiting for some sign that I was needed upstairs, I had this thought: I am constantly surrounded by children and pets. Profound right? Seriously though, it furthens my conviction that I’m destined to own a farm and adopt lots of kids.

If ‘furthens’ wasn’t a word before, it is now. Also, along this note, my sister made up a word last night while holding the baby just minutes after giving birth, and I summarize:

He’s definately not as heavy as Addy, she was was a chunk-wad.

That’s right, chunkwad. Anyways, back to my conviction being furthened… I’ll just go ahead and say it. I don’t want a white picket fence and a beautiful green lawn and a shiny car. GASP! That’s un-american.

Oh well. I’m an American, and this is my dream.

I want horses and cows and chickens and a lake and lots of screaming kids running around playing some game they’ve made up and a acre or two of vegetable patches and a whole room full of muddy kids’ boots. I also want to employ homeless people. That’s a different story. But first, the story of two weekends ago…

Two weekends ago I went to a prayer gathering in Dallas, TX. I watched 39 women walk up to the Dallas courthouse after braving 250 miles for 21 days. On the steps, sweaty and probably miserable, they wept and prayed. They asked God to do something about abortion. They asked Him to stop legalized murder. For the next 12 hours thousands of women gathered to join them in prayer. This was not a protest against a government, it was a plea before a holy Judge and not those guys in the building. We heard witness after witness testify against Roe V. Wade, the case that made it legal to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. I think the evidence is clear- abortion makes a nation guilty, and it must be stopped. But ending abortion is only half the solution. Who’s gonna take care of all those babies? Think about it, pro-life equals pro-adoption. If no one adopts, everyone will go on aborting, legal or not.

That was a trip to remember. In part because it was a road-trip with 4 of my very favorite people.








There were more than a few times I laughed so hard my face hurt. I mean, real pain-provoking laughter is hard to come by. Like the time we had to frantically search the car for change because of the toll road and all that tumbled out of my wallet was one penny, a guitar pick and my spare car key.  Or when we were re-telling the story of the time Caitlin busted her tire at 3 in the morning and called me… wait, this story is funnier in person. Or the time Brianna’s extra-hot latte spilled all over my leg.

Actually, that wasn’t funny but it did invoke pain. Ah yes, road trip with the besties. Those are the bestest.

The following weekend I planted my garden. And my sister’s garden. And thought about how in the world I am going to start a business as this is also a dream of mine.

This weekend I watched my nephew get born.

and THREE weekends ago my roomate and I got puppies.


Rosie and Lulu

They are currently snoring on the couch next to me. Rosie on the right, Lulu on the left. No wait, they just switched sides. Puppies can be very indecisive.

And the weekend before that I don’t remember cause it was so boring.

That’s all. Maybe next weekend I’ll blog about monday through friday.

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April 22, 2012 · 7:59 pm

I am sane

I like to write lists. Does anyone want to see the list I just wrote? I originally titled it,  “Things i want to accomplish on Thursday, December 22, 2011”.
It looks something like this:

organize front closet
dust/clean living room
eat more than one meal
be a hermit
do not answer any calls
talk to no one
read/write and/or dream about reading/writing poems
clean out car
ignore every living soul
lock self in room

As I continued my list, I realized I wasn’t making a list of things I want to accomplish on Thursday, December 22, 2011, but rather- things I need to accomplish in order to keep my own sanity after being insanely busy for 7 months straight. So I now call it  my “things Joylynne will do on Thursday, December 22, 2011 to keep herself from not going insane.”

My next list is going to be ‘Things I accomplished while I was insanely busy for the last 7 months” and as long as “kept sanity and didn’t forget I’m an artist and writer” is on that list somewhere… it was a successful 7 months. 2011 tried to throw a few punches but fortunately I can take a hit or two.

Bring it on 2012!



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my old apartment

it is finished

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how sweet the day

I wrote a poem in the middle of my 70-hour week
Needless to say I am looking forward to my day off

how sweet it will be the day
when no time can have its own way
but rather report to it’s master, you
the one who always has nothing to do

how sweet it will be the day
when there are are no demands
when one can lean back and say
time, please just leave, just go away

how sweet it will be the day
when one’s only responsibility will be
to go with the wind blowing everywhich way
and to sing with one’s voice, to laugh, and to play

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