What do you think about white lies? Friends dwelling in Possibilities

/ lustellarose / Leave a comment

The little white lies: I could not find where I had placed them today. I do not put them away in a place like the Bold Blue, and Bold Red lies I often try to avoid. The whites would be muddled. The face of lying is more subtle, tamed, and content; they are a smooth river rock and thrown so perfectly, causing small to medium-sized ripples. Slightly disrupted. But, not to say there was no effect would be lying to yourself. White lies are abused; after we do them, we talk with ourselves and say, “Don’t be twirling your pretty little head about it.”  “It only causes small ripples.” “I might have saved the Universe.” We all use white lies. Bad or Good? Both. Rules or Guidelines? Yes, there are. Suppose white lies were to get a nickname like an animal or one word like Snowman. What would you call your white lies? And how do you feel about them?

White lies are needed in our communication with others, from strangers on the street to family members to lovers and best buddies.

Ask yourself in your mind through a mindful process — will this white lie be beneficial? Will I hurt anybody? Could I tell the truth? Do I want to tell the truth? Would a big hug and gratitude do the job of a white lie?

It’s the dept, the strength of the foundation of the lie, your heart rate, and body signals that act as your measurement of the enormity of any lie; It would be best if you become aware of it. White lies can be our friend if we remind ourselves of these simple things: Should it be a truth? Will it cause chaos and mayhem? Would a hug and a thank you and an open discussion work?

I am not saying don’t use white lies. She is needed in many situations. Just be mindful—Check-in with yourself. Name the white lie. White lies aren’t going anywhere, but how they are handled is a daily exercise you will be jostling daily.

What are your thoughts about white lies? Next, let’s talk about Bold Blue lies and Bold Red lies?

Stayed tuned. Thanks for reading this. Please share your thoughts.

white lies in dictionary – Bing

White Lie | Definition of White Lie by Merriam-Webster (merriam-webster.com)White Lie | Definition of White Lie by Merriam-Webster (merriam-webster.com)

With much gratitude, LuStellaRose (luana)

A story by Marilyn F. An aspiring writer — sharing her work

/ lustellarose / Leave a comment

A note from  Marilyn about her story below —

This probably isn’t as funny as I think it is, but I did have fun writing it. I think the prompt was something like, “write a story in which you refer to time passing, as you maybe look at a clock or stopwatch.”  Marilyn F.

It all started at 8:33 when a spider climbed up a waterspout. At 8:35, a torrential rain began and washed the spider down the rain spout, flushing him into a puddle of water where he very nearly drowned.

It wasn’t until about 8:50 when the rain let up a bit and the very soggy spider was able to struggle towards the edge of the puddle. Then, at 8:55 the water-logged spider managed to extract his last leg from the puddle. The rain stopped at last.

It was just past 9:00 when the spider’s legs, like stilts, precariously balanced his still-wet body above the rain-drenched ground. They trembled as he lurched toward a bit of high ground that wasn’t quite so wet.

At 9:05 the sun peeked down through the clouds. Its heat was minimal at first. The spider couldn’t feel heat of course, he being a cold-blooded animal after all. It wasn’t until 9:10 when the full force of the sun beat back the rain clouds and sent them scurrying on their way.

Then, when the clock had reached 9:25, the warmth of the sun had dried up all the rain drops. The heat caused the water in the puddle to give up tiny, invisible water molecules which floated up into the sky. The puddle beneath the rain spout dried up until it was as if it had never been there.

Finally, at 9:30 the spider, feeling invigorated and dry at last, decided he would climb up the waterspout once again.

 

/ lustellarose / Leave a comment

A story by Marilyn F. An aspiring writer — sharing her work

A note from  Marilyn about her story below —

This probably isn’t as funny as I think it is, but I did have fun writing it. I think the prompt was something like, “write a story in which you refer to time passing, as you maybe look at a clock or stopwatch.”  Marilyn F.

It all started at 8:33 when a spider climbed up a waterspout. At 8:35, a torrential rain began and washed the spider down the rain spout, flushing him into a puddle of water where he very nearly drowned.

It wasn’t until about 8:50 when the rain let up a bit and the very soggy spider was able to struggle towards the edge of the puddle. Then, at 8:55 the water-logged spider managed to extract his last leg from the puddle. The rain stopped at last.

It was just past 9:00 when the spider’s legs, like stilts, precariously balanced his still-wet body above the rain-drenched ground. They trembled as he lurched toward a bit of high ground that wasn’t quite so wet.

At 9:05 the sun peeked down through the clouds. Its heat was minimal at first. The spider couldn’t feel heat of course, he being a cold-blooded animal after all. It wasn’t until 9:10 when the full force of the sun beat back the rain clouds and sent them scurrying on their way.

Then, when the clock had reached 9:25, the warmth of the sun had dried up all the rain drops. The heat caused the water in the puddle to give up tiny, invisible water molecules which floated up into the sky. The puddle beneath the rain spout dried up until it was as if it had never been there.

Finally, at 9:30 the spider, feeling invigorated and dry at last, decided he would climb up the waterspout once again.

 

Armando Chilelli —

/ lustellarose / 1 Comment

My father. Larger than life. Brighter than sunshine. Honest as Abe. Friend to all he met.

Armando Chilelli, 91, died on February 21st, 2021, at his home in Edmonds with his family by his side.  He was born April 16th, 1929, in Brooklyn, New York.

Armando grew up in Italy, in a town called Paola. This is where he fell in love with his forever love. By one look at a picture set upon a wall. He set his sights on Maria Teresa  DePaola (Sina); they married on August 28th, 1953. They celebrated 67 years of marriage.

Armando and his bride moved from Italy to Alderwood Manor, Washington. They settled and lived in Lynnwood for 40 plus years, then the last twenty years in Edmonds.

When moving to Washington, Sina had relatives to support the young couple’s starts. Armando built roads up on the Olympic Peninsula. Learning to handle large road equipment and machinery. He loved moving big piles of dirt. After a while, Armando decided it was time for him to start his own business.

He exhibited all the traits of an entrepreneur. He started a General Contracting business, A.C Builders Homes, Inc., that spanned more than fifty years of successful outcomes. He was involved in owning a Quarry and Cabinet Shop.

Armando was a creative thinker and often invented things to make life easier to deal with, and everyone that knows him has been exposed to his inventions.

Armando loved to golf. He was exceptional at it. He did bowl as well and was incredibly good at that, too. Armando was a watercolor painter. He took college entry classes to become skilled at his work. Many an art shows displayed his art.

He was a Master Gardener— growing many types of vegetables and plants. He was so giving with his bounty. People that knew him were never short of vegetables for their meals.

Armando was an advocate for issues and people in the political arena. Always doing what was good for the community.

There is so much more to add for Armando because he was a larger-than-life figure; everyone he came into contact with left a bit better off.

He is survived by his wife Maria Teresa (Sina), and his daughters, Luana Chilelli (her partner Marty Krueger), Teresa Chilelli-White (her husband Bruce White), Donna Chilelli, and grandson Johnathan White.

A private service will be held Tuesday, March  2nd, 2021.

There will be a memorial in the late spring or early summer to celebrate his remarkable life.

 

WORDS; love them, leave them, control them

/ lustellarose / Leave a comment

lustellarose (writer for LYW)

When you are talking (to yourself or others) have you ever stopped and noticed — “I love that word I just SPOKE.. Or, ” I don’t ever want to hear THAT word again. It churns my stomach.” 

Words are our threads stitching together the pattern of our tapestry called life. Connecting our words into the language helps us communicate with each other. As the threads, they are different vibrate colors, thin and thick in size, silk and wool, and knotted in the middle, end, or twisted in a spot. But, they all crisscross and make sense when you view the art piece they are perpetually creating. Of, course there are always (and always will be) fumbles. But, in the weave of the pattern, the texture of the fiber, who notices?

Over my bitter-sweet relationship with words. I say that with a tint of melancholy. Love them or leave them seemed silly to say. But, We can feel that way. We can discipline ourselves to act that way — love them or leave them. Ban words from our vocabulary. Send those words that make our hair on the back of our necks to stand at attention—back out into the word universe. And, the ones we love, create a green room. Like they do at a television talk show. Where the guests hang out and eat food, watch the show, get prepared, receive unfiltered adoration and be a celebrity. My words that I love are that special. Do you have words like that? Or, words you love? Are they noticed?

I have come to build a Word List of words I absolutely LOVE in my World and words that make me CRINGE when I hear them. Like Fiduciary — nails on a chalkboard.

I can’t list all the words I love and ones I don’t appreciate, but I can share several with an explanation of why they are on one list or the other. No order. Random. Though one might be closer to the heart. Or, one might be more distasteful to the tongue.

*Propensity — Pro is a positive feel. I believe in a glass full. And, a natural way to always be positive. It is fun to say. *Joy — Positive feel. Happiness. I believe in a glass full. And, at the age of twelve, I read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and learned the meaning of Joy. *Kind — Positive feel. Plato’s take; ‘Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.’

*Corner — Ouch Feel. Sharp at the corner. Stings when you say it. Or, standing in the corner for talking (yes, that happened to me) *Got — Hard Feel. This little pest of a word sounds just awful. It is a mean word with rough edges and no room for error. *Seminar — Hard Feel. What exactly is it? Sounds sticky. Nonproductive. (good word) *Fiduciary — Hard Feel. This word is a mouthful of crap. It sounds awful when spoken. It sounds dirty like mud. (but, mud is a good word) Just say it once. *Hate — Hateful Feel. What can I say? When spoken it makes you hateful. *Pocketbook — Hard Feel. It sounds stiff and unforgiving. Especially if you have the wrong one.

I have given just a few goofy ones. And, I am hoping to hear from some of you about your words that make you happy and ones you don’t quite appreciate.

I want to communicate with any and all words. I want to find ones I swoon over and I want to banish ones that make me cringe (or any other sort of reaction of that nature) and I want to control them. (a run-on sentence I know)

Words=Connection, Lustellarose

https://atomic-temporary-22701333.wpcomstaging.com/2021/03/16/words-love-them-or-leave-them/