Call Your Mother... Call the Cops!

It occurred to me some years ago that settling isn't part of my DNA.  In fact, the mere idea breeds contempt in the depths of my soul.  Why so? 

I probably inhaled a little too much smoke as a child.  When I was 5 yrs old, my brother turned my wooden sandbox on the side of the house, then pushed me in and lit a match.  I don't recall who saved me, but I know my Mother was fuming! 

Everyone learned a valuable lesson that day.  My mother hid her matches.  My brother wears a permanent scar on his finger from my mother burning it on the stove (an eye for an eye, I guess).  And I became a keen temperature taker.

I like things that are hot.  I have to feel something to know that I'm alive.  Where there's feeling, there's passion.  And where there's passion, there's a flame. 

Raw passion comes from real friction.  When you rub two things together long enough, it creates a spark.  And it only takes a spark to get a fire going ;-)

 

If Your Life Isn't on Fire... perhaps it's time to light a match!

 

 

Melinda Peterson - Real Estate Cafe LLC

 

 

 

Melinda Peterson ~ Principal Broker

The Naked Blogger

Curator of Happy Endings

541-659-1620 

Serving Central & Southern Oregon

Ashland - Bend - Grants Pass - Medford 

My Virtual Homes  

www.BuyInOregon.com

 Info@BuyInOregon.com 

© 2016 

Comment balloon 17 commentsMelinda (Mel) Peterson • November 18 2014 09:08AM
Call Your Mother… Call the Cops!
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