Missed Opportunities

 I woke up this morning in a fit of confusion.  I am torn about certain life-decisions that make no sense to me.  It didn’t help that my dreams were all unfocused and screwy.  I had to get going though – I had to get to work.

          I wrote down today’s schedule for the nanny (which happens to be Yuri’s auntie).  When I said good-bye and gave my kisses, Yuri decided to grab onto my leg and not let go.  He wanted to come to work with me.  I couldn’t get out of the house on time… that’s when I knew the day was going to be a weird one.

          My car was on empty.  I was out of money so I had to go to the bank to cash a money order from Yuri’s dad.  Problem?  There was a new bank teller.  She didn’t know where to look for the water mark on the postal service money order.  I even told her to hold it up to the light and look in the middle.  She wouldn’t cash it.. even though I’ve been cashing the child support checks there for months.

       I Had to make the drive to the post office, and I knew that by the time I got there I would be running late for work.  When I got there it was packed.  The lady at the register told me that they didn’t have enough money in the till, just the hundred they started out with.  Lucky for me the guy behind me had to make a money order for $250.  I probably would have had better luck standing at the street corner… or at least that’s what one of the captain’s I work with thought.

          The gas station was packed as well.  I had to pump the gas myself.  Went a nickel over.  By the time I hit the road I knew I was going to be at least ten minutes late.

          Ten minutes late for work and the boat captain asked if he could open the door for me like I did for him.  It was the least he could do.  Boss got the son to go to town to get the fixed ice-cream machine. Hallelujah!

          Two different planned weddings that I could miss.


Learning In July

Back in May, I wrote my first post, Happy-Nests, for this new blog of mine.  The entirety of the post was to pursue a new passion, and that by June I would mainly be camping for the summer with my son, Yuri.

Although I did pursue many passions, my job falling into one of those passions, as well as this blog, I didn’t get to go camping as much as was originally planned.  Without regret I shift my blame solely on Yuri’s father – for the simple reason of him being a totally selfish pig.  If you wish to know why I do so, my Mother’s Day post can surely give you a glimpse as to why.  I did take Yuri camping though,





and we had a blast!  Yuri loved his new sleeping bag (and I loved mine as well), and he loved drinking hot cocoa and making hot dogs and smore’s.

Continue reading

Map’s Little Treasures

Waters raged against the river bank, wind blew hard. Rena shivered as the sails flapped violently. We need to find shelter... Andy looked to the skies – clouds rapidly closed out the blue, changing to a dark grey. Sam took a pull from his flask wondering if they would make it. There were no trees in sight; thunder was coming, and with thunder comes lightning. Rena, Andy, and Sam had little time to devise a plan. They could not afford to fail.

Andy guessed they had about 20 minutes left until it began to pour. Sailing west while the wind blew to the east, they had no choice but to row. All they needed was to find a few trees to tie up the tarp. Too much was at stake to keep on – they wouldn’t be much use if the maps were soaked. They needed to pick up speed. He pulled out his telescope to search for refuge. Just beyond the bend, a minor climb up the mountain from the bank, was a patch of trees on a flat. A surge of relief powered through his bones. “Ahoy, mates! Home, just is around the bend!”

The wooden boat rocked back and forth as the waves splashed wildly up at them. Rena and Sam rowed with all the strength they had gathered together. Keeping up with the current was difficult as they were up against the wind, but they managed. Andy steered the ship’s wheel as they descended upon the northern-shore. Anchor dropped and sails secured -thunder rolled (one, two, three, four, five) and lightning crashed- they readied their packs for the hike.

Setting up camp proved to be more difficult than what they hoped for due to winds. As they ate berries from journey of yesterday’s, Sam took another pull of rum and listened to the rain pour loudly onto soil. This was day six away from their real temporary home. He grabbed his pack and pulled out his leather-bound and pen. He was to write his wife and to add the days routes to his maps.

Dearest Rosette,
It is day six and the rain has stalled our trip. We have travelled far and seen much. But I miss you… If only you had come with, I assure you, this miserable loneliness would cease to be

Sam stopped writing only to look up and see that Andy and Rena were interlocked in each other’s arms, lips gently pressed against each others. Chills crawled up his spine. He missed Rosette only that much more. Why didn’t she want to come with? After all, this journey was her idea. Newlyweds, Sam and Rosette discussed their future, Rosette wanting to move out west. Sam called for his cousin, Andy, and they developed plans to find a homestead in Montana… and then Rosette discovered she had became pregnant with child.

Continue reading


Tunes Time Tuesdays: It’s A Pirates Life For Me!

Pirates! Yarr!


You know, I have always been a person who strongly believes in good form. What do I mean by good form? I mean to know what you truly believe in and not letting anything get in the way to find your truth. I mean knowing what is real and what might be a trick of the mind. Giving into instinct and doing what it takes to be honorable in time without pride taking over instead of blindly doing what you are told and following what others order is good form.

Making my own treasure maps. It’s something I will do for my son and I for fun. It requires skills, technical strategies, and time to afford the kind of heart it takes to be the kind of Pirate I talk of.

To the naked eye a pirate is a traitor, a thief, a nuisance. Yo ho, a pirate is so much more…

What it means to be a pirate is honor. Stealing money only from the richest to bury their burdens forever. Rebelling against evil forces. Taking a stand to the misled. Leading a crew into the unknown seeking forgiveness without regret. They truly are my heros.


The Last Saskatchewan Pirate: The Arrogant Worms

Then I thought, who gives a damn if all the jobs are gone?
I’m gonna be a PIRATE on the river Saskatchewan!

And it’s a heave-ho, hi-ho, comin’ down the plains
Stealin’ wheat and barley and all the other grains
It’s a ho-hey, hi-hey farmers bar yer doors
When ya see the Jolly Roger on Regina’s mighty shores

Well, you’d think the local farmers would know that I’m at large
But just the other day I found an unprotected barge
I snuck up right behind them and they were none the wiser,
I rammed their ship and sank it and I stole their fertilizer!

The Lincoln Park Pirates: Steve Goodman

To me, way, hey, tow them away,
The Lincoln Park Pirates are we,
>From Wilmette to Gary, there’s nothin’ so hairy
And we always collect our fee!
So it’s way, hey, tow ’em away,
We plunder the streets of your town,
Be it Edsel or Chevy, there’s no car too heavy,
And no one can make us shut down.

We break into cars when we gotta,
With hammer and pickaxe and saw;
And they said this garage had no license;
But little care I for the law!
Our drivers are friendly and courteous;
Their good manners you always will get;
‘Cause they all are recent graduates
Of the charm school in Joliet

The Elegant Captain Hook

Crook, Crook, Crickety-Crockity-
The Crock is after Captain-

As a special offer for today,
I’ll tell you what I’ll do.
All those who sign without delay!
Will get a free tatoo.
Why, it’s like money in the bank
C’mon, join up, and I’ll be frank:
Unless you do, you’ll walk the plank!

The choice is up to you
The choice is up to you

The Jolly Sailor Bold [Mermaid Song]

My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,
There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold.

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be
Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea.

My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,
There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold.

My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,
There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold

Jolly Roger: Roger Mcguinn

Now a gleam came into the Captain’s eyes
As he spied an English clipper
“She looks the perfect shape and size
Let’s all aboard and strip her”
[ Lyrics from: ]
We fired a shot across her bow
And eased ourselves beside her
With our keels as close as she’d allow
We swung from the deck to ride her
Pull away, me lads o’ the Cardiff Rose
And hoist the Jolly Roger

Up she stumbles and starts to pitch
And signals for assistance
We tightened our hold another hitch
And ended her resistance

Drink Up: Jason Webley

A toast to Mary,
A girl I once loved,
Oh Lord, why do things have to die?
If drinking beer,
Could bring her back here,
I’d drink the damn place dry,
Yes, I’d drink the damn place dry!

Here’s to the old house,
On Lily Pond Lane,
And the room where y boots used to rest.
One day I gave
The foundation a shake,
But my home did not pass the test,
No my home did not pass the test.

The Mariner’s Revenge Song: The Decemberists

We are two mariners
Our ship’s sole survivors
In this belly of a whale
It’s ribs are ceiling beams
It’s guts are carpeting
I guess we have some time to kill

You may not remember me
I was a child of three
And you, a lad of eighteen
But, I remember you
And I will relate to you
How our histories interweave
At the time you were
A rake and a roustabout
Spending all your money
On the whores and hounds
(oh, oh)

Friggin’ in the Riggin’: the Sex Pistols

It was on the good ship Venus
By Christ, ya shoulda seen us
The figurehead was a whore in bed
And the mast, a mammoth penis

The Captain of this lugger
He was a dirty bugger
He wasn’t fit to shovel shit
From one place to another

Friggin’ in the riggin’
Friggin’ in the riggin’
Friggin’ in the riggin’
There was fuck all else to do

Salty Dog: Flogging Molly

Anarchy, the scourge of every sea
The Antichrist aboard a rig
With us your cutthroat thieves
The ship went down we all near drowned
Ya stood there on the deck
Till the Spanish came and flogged yer arse
And dragged you from the wreck

They threw a rope around yer neck
To watch you dance the jig of death
Then left ya for the starvin’ crows
Hoverin’ like hungry whores
One flew down plucked out yer eye
The other he had in his sights
Ya snarled at him, said leave me be
I need the bugger so I can see

Keel hauled: Alestorm

My friends I stand before you
To tell a truth most dire
There lurks a traitor in our midst
Who hath invoked the captain’s ire

He don’t deserve no mercy
We ought to shoot him with a gun
But I am not an evil man
So first let’s have a little fun

We’ll tie that scoundrel to a rope
And throw him overboard
Drag him underneath the ship
A terrifying deadly trip

Shipwrecked: Alestorm

Hey! you’re banjaxed!
Hey! you’re screwed!
And death is coming for you!
Trapped on an island lost at sea!
Shipwrecked your destiny!

On the 16th night at sea
In the depths of toil and misery
We struck a hidden reef
And our ship began to sink beneath

I grabbed some drifting wood
And held on as long as I could
‘Til abandoned on a desert isle
Now stuck here ’til the day I die


Professor Booty: Beastie Boys

So many wack M.C.’s You get the T.V. bozack
Ain’t even gonna call out your names ‘Cause you’re so wack
But one big oaf whose faker than plastic
A dictionary definition of the word spastic
You should have never started something That you couldn’t finish
‘Cause writin’ rhymes to me Is like Popeye to spinach
I’m bad ass move your fat ass ‘Cause you’re wack son
Dancin’ around like you think you’re Janet Jackson
Thought you could walk on me To get some ground to walk on
I’ll put the rug out under your ass As I talk on
I’ll take you out like a sniper on a roof
Like an M.C. at the fever in the D.J. booth
With your headphones strapped You’re rockin’ rewind pause
Tryin’ to figure out what you can do to go for yours
But like the pencil to the paper I got more to come
One after another you can all get some
So you getter take your time And meditate on your rhyme
‘Cause your shit’ll be stinking When I go for mine
And that’s right y’all don’t get uptight y’all
You can’t say shit Because you’re biting what I write y’all
And that’s wrong y’all over the long haul
You can’t cut the mustard When you’re fronting it all





Flashback: Morro Bay

Since I missed throwback thursday, here are a few photos for flashback friday.







These are from last spring when Yuri and I visited Morro Bay. We had so much fun on the beach. We chased waves, lost a kite, went to the theatre for Yuri’s first big screen, walked for miles on the beach, found seashells, got California haircuts, and we could’t leave unless I got to bury him in sand!

❤ Ari

and here is a natural arch made of trees.


Such beauty!

Gender Specific Boots?

I’m sitting here, at a local restaurant, and I just finished eating a bagel. Yuri has finished his bagel and is playing with a couple other children in the play area – both are a little bit older than him. The other children are brother and sister and both parties have already been warned to share and take turns on the slide by parents. Then I hear the little girl (who is closer to Yuri’s age than the boy) say, “Why are you wearing pink?”

Instantly I felt an urge to defend my baby boy. But there was no need to. I hear these words come from my little dude, “These are my boots. They have polka-dots on them. We went to [a local sports store] and mama got me these ones because I liked them… and I really like them.” This statement was made by someone of such small stature, yet it made a huge impact on my heart. I don’t need to defend him from other people’s children because he can do it by himself… just by being himself.

Yuri Taylor, just a boy of the age of three, has given me more inspiration in these short years than any of hundreds of people have given me in all of my life. I tell almost everyone I meet that I learn more from him than he does from me every single day. The story he told that little girl was the absolute truth. Exactly the way it was told. He needed rain boots, there were black ones, camouflage, and sparkly polk-a-dots – they all light up – and he wanted the polk-a-dot ones. I even tried to talk him into getting the black ones, but the words were pointless, he insisted on the polk-a-dots. I worried about other children hassling him and poking fun. What happened here today is exactly why I worry. Yuri was able to fade those fears slightly.

I don’t necessarily blame the parents for the little girls obvious boy-girl stereotype. It is something to hold against society. What’s it matter if a boy wears sparkles and polk-a-dots and pink? Or if a girl wears all camo and super-hero apparel? That ‘s just it – it doesn’t matter. If my kid really wants some pink, shooting star, and rainbow socks – not simple white ones – then he can have ’em.

All I can hope is for other parents to teach their children to understand without any judgement. Because a bullied child is heartbreaking to any parent.