Creative Inspiration for Passionate Living

I have a dear friend who loves to share information and recipes with me.  During one conversation in the dead of winter, they shared how, they added baby oil gel to their body while in the shower. Intrigued, I asked for more detail. As they explained it, this technique left their skin softer and more supple than any other moisturizing tactic. I didn't doubt the sincerity of their claim, after all, it was my friend and who wouldn't be tempted by promises of butter soft skin in the dead of a harsh winter?  One day shortly after our discussion, I grabbed my baby oil gel and began applying a liberal amount from my ankles up. The hot water rinsed all excess and, just as my friend proclaimed, allowed my skin to absorb the gel much better than dry or recently moistened skin - this was heaven then... Whoa, woops , ouch! I squirmed, squealed and almost pulled down the shower curtain reaching for safety as I slipped about the oil slick that became my shower floor.  I caught my balanc

I strolled from the office to the train station at a casual pace enjoying the weather, pondering what early evening snack could satisfy my tummy without ruining my appetite for dinner.  I stopped at the street light and settled on a $1 fruit smoothie. As I waited for the walk signal, a blue car turned South onto a North bound one way street right in front of me.  At first I thought he was trying to access the parking garage at the corner, cars were in all but one of the lanes traveling in the opposite direction of his turn, but he sped down the avenue against traffic as if he was traveling in the right direction.  Midway down the street I saw him tap his break but then accelerate again.  Four neat rows of cars blocked his entry to the East bound one way. His options were to make a u-turn or continue in the wrong direction against traffic. As I crossed the street in laughter, I looked behind me wondering if maybe the one ways weren't clearly marked. There were several DO NOT E

One summer afternoon I was driving with my children to run a few errands. It was the summer that Jay-Z released The Black Album - one of my favorite CDs. My children and I often sing along to the radio or CDs to make our commute fun and relaxing. Jay-Zs new single (at the time) queued up and I got into it. "If you feelin like a pimp [ ], gone brush your shoulders off Ladies is pimps too, gone brush your shoulders off [ ] is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you Get back TURN UP YOUR SHOULDERS you betta get, back turn up your shoulders" I had my bank head bounce goin as I cruised down the street. My kids were in stitches. At first, I figured they were REALLY enjoying my performance (I can be quite animated) until my daughter asked me to repeat what I was saying. "What?" I asked. Through tears of laughter she asked me again "Just sing the chorus one more time momma". I did. "GET BACK, TURN UP YOUR SHOULDERS. What?" I was gettin

In Northwest Indiana, the high schools do not offer driver's education so I proudly took on the task of teaching my oldest son how to drive.  We started in sub divisions where there was little traffic and less opportunity to cause major damage if the lessons went sour. During one particular lesson, I told my son to make a right hand turn at the stop sign.  He stopped  without pounding on the break, causing the whole Durango to jerk forward - I was proud.  When he began to accelerate, he turned the steering wheel in the direction of a left turn.  I told him to stop in a very stern voice which must have startled him.  He heard and comprehended my instruction but for reasons  unknown to me, he did the exact opposite.  He attempted to steer the truck to the right while in the middle of maneuvering for a left turn and trying to stop. At the same time, a car was approaching the intersection where we danced an SUV Samba. We survived and he's a great driver - NOW... Today'

I once had an eyelash fall into my eye.  I didn't realize it was there right away but once my eye began to feel like it had a rock under the lid, I knew I had trouble. I ran to the mirror, lifted my eyelid and began searching for the fleecy culprit.  I spotted it just under my brow bone - the highest part of my eye.  I washed my hands and prepared for a surgery of sorts. That single lash moved around in my eye back and forth, to and fro but would NOT come out!  Though I could always see it, I was unable to manipulate it to the safe place where I could pluck it without causing harm to my eyeball. I tried every tactic I knew - making my eye water, gently massaging the hair to the corner of my eye and even flushing it - nothing worked.  With little left in my arsenal, I was forced to grant the eyelash reprieve.  Both me and my eye had become visibly irritated but I could do little but leave it where it was and continue with my day. Within a half hour, the corner my eye began to it