Love is saying your sorry even when you are not wrong, love is shutting up even when you feel you should be handling the problem. Love is caring enough for another person to let them make their own mistakes and fix them after they has been made. Love is letting go, but staying close enough for them so they can cry on your shoulder. If they need to.
Welcome, Janeal is an artist and novelist. She enjoys oil painting, all artwork is done by Janeal in this blog; also she enjoys writing articles, poems, and short stories for several different websites across the Internet. She also enjoys working and producing adobe art out of family photos and what she calls just fun art, or abtract art. This way she practices all the things she learned in college.
A little more about Janeal
Most of her articles are about the experiences she been through, and her inspirations. Sat back and enjoy while you look through the pages of her blog. If you like this blog also check out Janeal's writing blog and Let of some steam blog by Janeal. Thanks
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
How to Get The Boy Next Door
How to get the Boy next Door?
Well first my boy wasn't exactly next door he was more like across the alley. Actually it was my boy's parents who had moved into the house across the alley, my boy actually lived in another town. Daniel was a few years older then I was, and his younger sister had wanted to set him up with Marissa, my older sister.
Our families joined together one weekend for a barbeque, and Daniel had come to town so this was the perfect time to introduce him to 'the girl of his dreams', Alisa decided. Marissa thought the idea was a great one, but dinner changed all that. Daniel didn't exactly fit Marissa's idea of a handsome prince, and she wasn't what Daniel had envisioned as his ideal angel either.
Daniel took one look at Marissa's younger sister, and the rest of the day was a blur. To him she was more then the ideal, she was the exceptional angel that he had dreamed about over the years. Daniel asked his father about her, who was she, what was her name, and where did she come from?
His dad told him whom I was, but unfortunately I was already engaged to another man. Daniel didn't give up he came home more often, in fact he showed up every weekend. Daniel hoped that I would see the light and find him in spite of the other man.
My fiancé helped him out a lot in that aspect; within the next month my fiancé was truly history. He couldn't make up his mind on anything to do with our wedding. Then when he finally did figure something out, the something he figured out was that he was gay, and I didn't have the right parts to make him happy. Thank God. I was thrilled he figured that out at least before we were hitched.
So I was free, and wondering what the devil had happened to my life, and me. I spent a lot of time in a daze, then one night I went over to my parents' home and Alisa was there. She was looking for someone to go to a concert with her. My sister had turned her down, because she didn't like rock and roll music. So she asked if I would like the extra ticket.
Stay in town and watch the past year of my life float by before my eyes again for the hundredth time, or go to watch one of my favorite bands. I said thank you and I would love to go, after all I wasn't stupid. Daniel came in late Friday night. The next morning we packed up the car with drinks and eats, and then we headed to La Junta where we would pick up his best friend Steve. Steve climbed in and we were off again to Colorado Springs for the concert. By the time we had reached Rocky Ford both Alisa and Steve were asleep, and I was bored. I had sat in the back seat behind Daniel, and finally settled on putting my feet up on the back of his seat.
After singing along with all the songs on the radio, and still being bored I came up with a game I called irritate Daniel, the object of the game was to see how long it took him to catch my toes. Stupid yes but hey what's a girl to do when she half bored out of her mind. I would pinch his earlobe with my right foot's toe just before I would stick my big toe on my left foot in his other ear. Lets just say I figured out a totally different way to play footy.
We made it to the concert and went our separate ways until the band shut it down. We meet back at the fence we went into earlier. Spent the night camped out in the car in Manito Springs. The next day we messed around the springs, before we headed back to Lamar.
Well first my boy wasn't exactly next door he was more like across the alley. Actually it was my boy's parents who had moved into the house across the alley, my boy actually lived in another town. Daniel was a few years older then I was, and his younger sister had wanted to set him up with Marissa, my older sister.
Our families joined together one weekend for a barbeque, and Daniel had come to town so this was the perfect time to introduce him to 'the girl of his dreams', Alisa decided. Marissa thought the idea was a great one, but dinner changed all that. Daniel didn't exactly fit Marissa's idea of a handsome prince, and she wasn't what Daniel had envisioned as his ideal angel either.
Daniel took one look at Marissa's younger sister, and the rest of the day was a blur. To him she was more then the ideal, she was the exceptional angel that he had dreamed about over the years. Daniel asked his father about her, who was she, what was her name, and where did she come from?
His dad told him whom I was, but unfortunately I was already engaged to another man. Daniel didn't give up he came home more often, in fact he showed up every weekend. Daniel hoped that I would see the light and find him in spite of the other man.
My fiancé helped him out a lot in that aspect; within the next month my fiancé was truly history. He couldn't make up his mind on anything to do with our wedding. Then when he finally did figure something out, the something he figured out was that he was gay, and I didn't have the right parts to make him happy. Thank God. I was thrilled he figured that out at least before we were hitched.
So I was free, and wondering what the devil had happened to my life, and me. I spent a lot of time in a daze, then one night I went over to my parents' home and Alisa was there. She was looking for someone to go to a concert with her. My sister had turned her down, because she didn't like rock and roll music. So she asked if I would like the extra ticket.
Stay in town and watch the past year of my life float by before my eyes again for the hundredth time, or go to watch one of my favorite bands. I said thank you and I would love to go, after all I wasn't stupid. Daniel came in late Friday night. The next morning we packed up the car with drinks and eats, and then we headed to La Junta where we would pick up his best friend Steve. Steve climbed in and we were off again to Colorado Springs for the concert. By the time we had reached Rocky Ford both Alisa and Steve were asleep, and I was bored. I had sat in the back seat behind Daniel, and finally settled on putting my feet up on the back of his seat.
After singing along with all the songs on the radio, and still being bored I came up with a game I called irritate Daniel, the object of the game was to see how long it took him to catch my toes. Stupid yes but hey what's a girl to do when she half bored out of her mind. I would pinch his earlobe with my right foot's toe just before I would stick my big toe on my left foot in his other ear. Lets just say I figured out a totally different way to play footy.
We made it to the concert and went our separate ways until the band shut it down. We meet back at the fence we went into earlier. Spent the night camped out in the car in Manito Springs. The next day we messed around the springs, before we headed back to Lamar.
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Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Winter Splender
Pillow Fights
Pillow Fights
By Janeal Mulaney
It was just days after my children and I moved out of my ex-husband house, the movers were do to unload our beds and other furniture on Monday, but until then my children and I had slept on the floor of our new apartment for the last two nights. My children and I had a lot of emotional baggage weighing us down with all the hurt and differences that were accruing in our lives. My oldest and youngest had been at each other’s throats all day. My oldest son decided to be the mediator as usual, but it hadn’t been working so as we got ready for bed the other two were still fighting.
The first blow came and Mitch hit both his sister and brother with one swing of the pillow. Before long we were all whacking each other with my old feathered pillows. We ended up tearing two of them apart and the feathers were flying everywhere, we were laughing so hard our sides were hurting, but we keep letting off steam and stress as we’d pick up another pillow and start up where a torn one left off. The pillow fight went on and on, the kids were laughing so hard they couldn’t even hit each other anymore. They were missing more then they were hitting someone, but the exercise was therapeutic for four people that had their whole world turned upside down in the space or one afternoon.
I was never so thankful that I had bought pillows every chance I got. We had gone through seven feathered pillows that night throughout our pillow fight. The stress was gone, but the mess was left to clean up before we could go to bed that night. The kids shook out all the bedding and I used the vacuum to suck up all the feathers from the carpet.
As the kids chatted back and forth about who got the best of whom, I vacuumed up all the feathers from the broken pillows. Then made out our temporary beds again. After laying down the kids talked to me about all the things that had been going on inside their minds with the separation, and us moving out of our family home. I tried to answer all their questions truthfully without putting all the blame on their dad. I tried to make them understand how couples some times grow apart, and how dreams can and do change throughout the years, and how some people want one thing and then for what ever reason those feelings aren’t there anymore. I’m sure if I talked to some professional about how we worked through our anger and hurt over the separation of our family, I would be told that I had handled it all wrong. I don’t know what the right way is, all I know is my kids and I bonded that night. That night they learned they had the freedom to ask questions, and talk to me about how they felt about any subject they wanted or needed to talk about.
We had many pillow fights after that, and I learned to buy some foam pillows just for the pillow fights, but that was truly one of my favorite pillow fights.
By Janeal Mulaney
It was just days after my children and I moved out of my ex-husband house, the movers were do to unload our beds and other furniture on Monday, but until then my children and I had slept on the floor of our new apartment for the last two nights. My children and I had a lot of emotional baggage weighing us down with all the hurt and differences that were accruing in our lives. My oldest and youngest had been at each other’s throats all day. My oldest son decided to be the mediator as usual, but it hadn’t been working so as we got ready for bed the other two were still fighting.
The first blow came and Mitch hit both his sister and brother with one swing of the pillow. Before long we were all whacking each other with my old feathered pillows. We ended up tearing two of them apart and the feathers were flying everywhere, we were laughing so hard our sides were hurting, but we keep letting off steam and stress as we’d pick up another pillow and start up where a torn one left off. The pillow fight went on and on, the kids were laughing so hard they couldn’t even hit each other anymore. They were missing more then they were hitting someone, but the exercise was therapeutic for four people that had their whole world turned upside down in the space or one afternoon.
I was never so thankful that I had bought pillows every chance I got. We had gone through seven feathered pillows that night throughout our pillow fight. The stress was gone, but the mess was left to clean up before we could go to bed that night. The kids shook out all the bedding and I used the vacuum to suck up all the feathers from the carpet.
As the kids chatted back and forth about who got the best of whom, I vacuumed up all the feathers from the broken pillows. Then made out our temporary beds again. After laying down the kids talked to me about all the things that had been going on inside their minds with the separation, and us moving out of our family home. I tried to answer all their questions truthfully without putting all the blame on their dad. I tried to make them understand how couples some times grow apart, and how dreams can and do change throughout the years, and how some people want one thing and then for what ever reason those feelings aren’t there anymore. I’m sure if I talked to some professional about how we worked through our anger and hurt over the separation of our family, I would be told that I had handled it all wrong. I don’t know what the right way is, all I know is my kids and I bonded that night. That night they learned they had the freedom to ask questions, and talk to me about how they felt about any subject they wanted or needed to talk about.
We had many pillow fights after that, and I learned to buy some foam pillows just for the pillow fights, but that was truly one of my favorite pillow fights.
Hold on To Me
Hold on to Me
By Janeal Mulaney
When your troubles out weigh your blessings
Hold on to me
When you see no sunshine in sight but only rain
Hold on to me
When you feel all alone and you have no home
Hold on to me for I am with you
When you can shed no more tears for too much pain
Hold on to me for I am always there
When the troubles of your world are too many to endure
Hold on to me because I’m holding you
With all the strength in my arms I will carry you
So hold on to me
With all the strength in my legs I will walk at your side
So hold on to me
When you feel your friends have forsaken you
Know I am your one true friend to talk to
When your road home is to dark to see
I will be your guiding light so have faith in me
When the winds and rains soak you to the bone
I will be the fire that comforts you
When your troubles seem to heavy to keep going
Have faith in me and I will carry your load for you
For my children who believe in me are never alone,
For I am there for you always
You just have to ask for me to come in
By Janeal Mulaney
When your troubles out weigh your blessings
Hold on to me
When you see no sunshine in sight but only rain
Hold on to me
When you feel all alone and you have no home
Hold on to me for I am with you
When you can shed no more tears for too much pain
Hold on to me for I am always there
When the troubles of your world are too many to endure
Hold on to me because I’m holding you
With all the strength in my arms I will carry you
So hold on to me
With all the strength in my legs I will walk at your side
So hold on to me
When you feel your friends have forsaken you
Know I am your one true friend to talk to
When your road home is to dark to see
I will be your guiding light so have faith in me
When the winds and rains soak you to the bone
I will be the fire that comforts you
When your troubles seem to heavy to keep going
Have faith in me and I will carry your load for you
For my children who believe in me are never alone,
For I am there for you always
You just have to ask for me to come in
Brothers, Sisters, and Favorites
Brothers, Sisters, and Favorites
By Janeal Mulaney
I come from a home where my parents wanted a large family. However it was not meant to be, my mother had several miscarriages, and a premature baby who didn't live for long after her birth. My father had to go buy a baby doll at the store so they would have clothes small enough just to bury my oldest sister in.
They finally got lucky the next child they had was full term and she is my other sister, and then one more time they got lucky and had me, almost three years later. Which is a story within its self. (Maybe at another time I will write about it.)
All through my childhood I heard how I was the favorite by my sister, and to tell the truth I always felt she was the favorite. We were as different as night and day, my sister was very feminine, she liked to cook, sew, and read. She was also great in school and a wonderful artist. She looked like mom and dad; never caused hardly any problems so she hardly got into any trouble.
I was all tomboy and didn't look like either of my parents, I never really applied myself in school, after all it took up eight hours of my day, when I could have been at home with the animals, climbing trees, working on my bikes, and getting my jeans all grease soaked. As I got older, I did the chores that were set for us as quickly as possible, so I could do what I wanted to do, I didn't want to spend any time at all in the house until the sun was down, or there was a blizzard outside. I bucked every rule my parents ever set, if I asked why I couldn't do something, and the only reason I was given was because they said so, then I did it anyway. That answer just wasn't a good enough reason for me not to do what I wanted.
I grew up grounded, spanked; and with more time outs then there were days in a year. I was literally my parents’ worse nightmare, and that was before I became a teen. Heck my heroes were Bonny and Clyde, which my friends and I played at being daily, in an old van my parents owned. (I still say that was the reason they sold it.) Ha, Ha!
As I grew up I helped my father in the shop, and on his jobs where he needed someone small to crawl in and out of tight places.
The one class I did start liking in school was art, but I was always compared to my sister, who according to my mother was so much better, so I soon started doing poorly in it too. What the heck I wasn't any good at it, so why bother wasting my time on it.
Still I was told I was the favorite, and I still couldn't figure out how my sister felt that way when I was never good enough, always in trouble, getting yelled at and compared to her. To make things even worse even the teachers in our small town would ask how I could be related to such a wonder student when my schoolwork sucked. That was when I truly became rebellious and mouthy to everyone.
I looked my teacher straight in the eyes, and asked. if she was truly an idiot, or if she had to work at it? Then I told her, you know my parents, both of them have black hear, dark eyes, and are over five feet seven, do I really look related to them. I'm adopted you twit.
I was just starting my first year at high school. My homeroom was called the principle office for the next three years. If I wasn't ditching classes, I was roaming the hallways this was how I spent my eight hours away from home. Some how I managed to graduate from school, personally I think the teachers got together and said, if we don't give that child higher then an F, we may never get rid of her so I made the D honor roll; what the heck, D is still the forth letter in the alphabet so I came in forth, right. Not bad if there is three hundred and some students, right!
That was along time ago now. Since then I have raised three of my own children, and now have four grandchildren. I've heard from each one of them how another one was my favorite, at one time or the other. My oldest and my youngest thought my middle child was the favorite, at one time, my oldest and the middle child thought I favored my youngest, at times. My middle and youngest thought my oldest was my favorite.
I can honestly say all three of them are my favorite.
How can I have three favorites?
Very easily, my oldest is a girl and she grew up a carbon copy of me. I know her inside and out. She is full of spirit and love; she is loyal to her family and friends, even though she has been let down by them at one time or the other. Sometimes she forgets while doing for some she lets others down, but her heart is always in the right spot. Sooner or later she will come back and be there for those that were neglected at an earlier time. So yes she is very much my favorite because I see myself in her every single day. I know she will have bad times, but she too will make it out on top because of her spirit, and the love she has for her own children and life.
My middle child is also my first son, who is about as far from my personality as anyone can be, he thinks everything through before he does anything, and his patience is so awesome. He has been my rock, my mentor, and my teacher, throughout my adult life. He is like the big brother I always wanted, but never had. He reminds me of the man I admire most which is my father, and he has the same easygoing attitude. He too has a heart that is filled with love and although he does not show it as often as the other two of my children do to just anyone, you can bet he shows it to his wife, the lovely woman who saw the stunning man he really is. He is excellent in everything he does. He has great morals and standards as well as takes great pride in himself and everything he accomplices. He is most definitely my favorite. He is who I always wanted to be.
My youngest is also my baby boy; he is a mixture of his grandfather, himself, and me. He is and will be one of the best men I know he has a heart of pure gold, but like me he lets his emotions rule and thinks later. He too reminds me of my father in different ways then my oldest son, he loves and cares deeply for his family and friends, he's not afraid to show his feelings for the ones he loves. I take pride in seeing him with his wife and baby girl every day. I know for them he will become the man he has always wanted to be. I see the same look in his own eyes that I still see in my own father's every time he looks at me. He's had hard times and good, but the thing that I admire most is no matter what happens he takes the blame for his own actions, wether they were right or they were wrong, he takes the fall then picks himself back up, and dust himself off. So yes he is very much my favorite.
So that is why I ask, are you the favorite? The answer to that is yes, in some way or for some reason you are your parents’ favorite, but then again you too will have to share that title with all your other siblings. For in some way they are just as special as you, and your parents love them unconditionally also.
By Janeal Mulaney
I come from a home where my parents wanted a large family. However it was not meant to be, my mother had several miscarriages, and a premature baby who didn't live for long after her birth. My father had to go buy a baby doll at the store so they would have clothes small enough just to bury my oldest sister in.
They finally got lucky the next child they had was full term and she is my other sister, and then one more time they got lucky and had me, almost three years later. Which is a story within its self. (Maybe at another time I will write about it.)
All through my childhood I heard how I was the favorite by my sister, and to tell the truth I always felt she was the favorite. We were as different as night and day, my sister was very feminine, she liked to cook, sew, and read. She was also great in school and a wonderful artist. She looked like mom and dad; never caused hardly any problems so she hardly got into any trouble.
I was all tomboy and didn't look like either of my parents, I never really applied myself in school, after all it took up eight hours of my day, when I could have been at home with the animals, climbing trees, working on my bikes, and getting my jeans all grease soaked. As I got older, I did the chores that were set for us as quickly as possible, so I could do what I wanted to do, I didn't want to spend any time at all in the house until the sun was down, or there was a blizzard outside. I bucked every rule my parents ever set, if I asked why I couldn't do something, and the only reason I was given was because they said so, then I did it anyway. That answer just wasn't a good enough reason for me not to do what I wanted.
I grew up grounded, spanked; and with more time outs then there were days in a year. I was literally my parents’ worse nightmare, and that was before I became a teen. Heck my heroes were Bonny and Clyde, which my friends and I played at being daily, in an old van my parents owned. (I still say that was the reason they sold it.) Ha, Ha!
As I grew up I helped my father in the shop, and on his jobs where he needed someone small to crawl in and out of tight places.
The one class I did start liking in school was art, but I was always compared to my sister, who according to my mother was so much better, so I soon started doing poorly in it too. What the heck I wasn't any good at it, so why bother wasting my time on it.
Still I was told I was the favorite, and I still couldn't figure out how my sister felt that way when I was never good enough, always in trouble, getting yelled at and compared to her. To make things even worse even the teachers in our small town would ask how I could be related to such a wonder student when my schoolwork sucked. That was when I truly became rebellious and mouthy to everyone.
I looked my teacher straight in the eyes, and asked. if she was truly an idiot, or if she had to work at it? Then I told her, you know my parents, both of them have black hear, dark eyes, and are over five feet seven, do I really look related to them. I'm adopted you twit.
I was just starting my first year at high school. My homeroom was called the principle office for the next three years. If I wasn't ditching classes, I was roaming the hallways this was how I spent my eight hours away from home. Some how I managed to graduate from school, personally I think the teachers got together and said, if we don't give that child higher then an F, we may never get rid of her so I made the D honor roll; what the heck, D is still the forth letter in the alphabet so I came in forth, right. Not bad if there is three hundred and some students, right!
That was along time ago now. Since then I have raised three of my own children, and now have four grandchildren. I've heard from each one of them how another one was my favorite, at one time or the other. My oldest and my youngest thought my middle child was the favorite, at one time, my oldest and the middle child thought I favored my youngest, at times. My middle and youngest thought my oldest was my favorite.
I can honestly say all three of them are my favorite.
How can I have three favorites?
Very easily, my oldest is a girl and she grew up a carbon copy of me. I know her inside and out. She is full of spirit and love; she is loyal to her family and friends, even though she has been let down by them at one time or the other. Sometimes she forgets while doing for some she lets others down, but her heart is always in the right spot. Sooner or later she will come back and be there for those that were neglected at an earlier time. So yes she is very much my favorite because I see myself in her every single day. I know she will have bad times, but she too will make it out on top because of her spirit, and the love she has for her own children and life.
My middle child is also my first son, who is about as far from my personality as anyone can be, he thinks everything through before he does anything, and his patience is so awesome. He has been my rock, my mentor, and my teacher, throughout my adult life. He is like the big brother I always wanted, but never had. He reminds me of the man I admire most which is my father, and he has the same easygoing attitude. He too has a heart that is filled with love and although he does not show it as often as the other two of my children do to just anyone, you can bet he shows it to his wife, the lovely woman who saw the stunning man he really is. He is excellent in everything he does. He has great morals and standards as well as takes great pride in himself and everything he accomplices. He is most definitely my favorite. He is who I always wanted to be.
My youngest is also my baby boy; he is a mixture of his grandfather, himself, and me. He is and will be one of the best men I know he has a heart of pure gold, but like me he lets his emotions rule and thinks later. He too reminds me of my father in different ways then my oldest son, he loves and cares deeply for his family and friends, he's not afraid to show his feelings for the ones he loves. I take pride in seeing him with his wife and baby girl every day. I know for them he will become the man he has always wanted to be. I see the same look in his own eyes that I still see in my own father's every time he looks at me. He's had hard times and good, but the thing that I admire most is no matter what happens he takes the blame for his own actions, wether they were right or they were wrong, he takes the fall then picks himself back up, and dust himself off. So yes he is very much my favorite.
So that is why I ask, are you the favorite? The answer to that is yes, in some way or for some reason you are your parents’ favorite, but then again you too will have to share that title with all your other siblings. For in some way they are just as special as you, and your parents love them unconditionally also.
Site Updated - Today!
Hey, I just noticed there were some widgets and fun sidebar items I could add that you might enjoy, so I thought I'd let you know they're on the right side. Just take a peak and enjoy all the newest parts of my blog. I'll be updating my blog more frequently now. Don't forget to stop by and take a look.
Meanwhile, stop by and take a look at Bliss - my book about art and poetry.
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