Kate Kearney (I Knew Her Once) #poetrymusic #suno #countrylovesong

Upcoming Podcast with Echo from Living my best life at 60

 

Come join us this Saturday.

Not That Kind of Lisa

 

Fear In Me

 

Thinking about returning to this blog

Every time I post on my wordpress, I am going to reinstate all my previous post and redo this blog.

marriedinarkansas.com

Welcome to my idea of Sims 4 world

Links to my YouTube Channel for my latest to Suno songs.

Flipping for Love - Love triangle between Eliza and Bob Pancakes and the artist Drew 

My Sims are on the Dance Floor All Night - Dancing Sims grooving to the beat 

Love On Repeat - Love story about Bella and Mortermor Goth and jealousy.

I love writing. I love creating music 

with Suno and I love playing Sims4. Put them all together and here is what you get.

The Haunted House that Inspired my song

Whispers in the Walls

 As an adolescent, I lived in a house that seemed to have its own life. From the creaks in the floorboards to the strange sounds that resonated down the halls, it constantly felt like something—or someone—was watching me. These bizarre incidents lingered with me long after I left the house, and I realized that the memories of that location would haunt my creative soul indefinitely. That unsettling inspiration eventually became the basis for a song I wrote, one that captures the feelings, terror, and mystery I felt all those years before.

When I started writing the song's lyrics, I intended to convey the spooky feelings I had as a young girl in that haunted house. The atmosphere of terror and disorientation I experienced, the shadows that appeared to dance just out of sight, and the sense of helplessness in the face of something far stronger than myself are all reflected in the song. It seemed alive, full of unspoken tales and mysteries, and it wasn't just a house. Here's a sneak peek at the lyrics inspired by these feelings.

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The tone of anxiety is established in verse 1 with the fear of being awakened by whispering in the middle of the night. I can still recall those times when I was lying in bed, hearing unreal sounds yet feeling them with all of my senses. It seems as though there is no way out because of the walls crowding in and the shadows moving on their own. I was surrounded by fear like a thick blanket, and I never really got over it.

Verse 2 describes the sensation of being followed by someone invisible. The echoes of footsteps in the corridor, a cold sensation running down your spine as if someone—or something—was present but you couldn't see it. I always felt watched, as if the walls themselves had eyes, and the scariest aspect was not knowing what would happen if I slipped up.

The Chorus is the heart of the song, in which I ponder on the house's unwavering grip on me. It wasn't just a haunted house in a creepy, mythical sense; it was an actual location with ghosts of twilight and gray. The wails and screams of the past appeared to reverberate in the air, as if the house was playing a game with me that I could never win. It seemed like I was stuck in a chess game, where I was always the pawn, helpless and inconsequential.

Verse 3 introduces the tangible manifestations of the haunting: rattling windows, slamming doors, and the unending darkness. I felt like there was nowhere to escape or hide. Those icy, invisible hands reaching from the bottom and the words pleading for more made me feel helpless and insignificant. The home seemed to be demanding my attention, drawing me into its twisted embrace.

Verse 4 depicts a rising sensation of imprisonment. Every corner held a fresh horror and a new secret. The thump of my heartbeat as I attempted to navigate the house served as a continual reminder that I was always on edge, racing against time and terror. But no matter where I turned, I couldn't get away from the house's merciless grasp; it was always in charge.

The Outro adds to the eerie mood, with flickering flames and murmurs twisting inside my dreams. This is where I consider the thought that the house wields power over me, locking me in an eternal loop. It reigns supreme in my memory, a place I can never leave, no matter how much time passes. It's the ultimate twist, the house's unbreakable grip on me, and it feels like it'll never let go.

When I look back, I understand that those scary situations, although leaving me rattled, inspired something creative and long-lasting. This music allows me to process my concerns, transforming what was previously a source of anxiety into something artistic. It reminds me that even the most traumatic situations can shape who we are today.

So, while the mansion previously held me captive in dread, it now has a special place in my heart because it inspired my song. And, in some ways, it has finally allowed me to change roles—no longer the pawn, but the one who gets to tell the story.

Moving to WordPress

 Moving to WordPress

I have unpublished all my past blogs on here and I am in the process of updating my New Blog on Word Press. Please visit me there. mymarriedlifeinarkansas.wordpress.com

Let me know if the link does not work.

 It's One Big Headache!

[Verse 1]

Kids running wild, yelling so loud,

Chaos unleashed in my rowdy crowd.

Climbing the walls, smashing their toys,

My head’s pounding from all the noise.

[Bridge]

I need a quiet space, a break from the sound,

Just a little stillness, where peace is found.

This chaos inside, I can’t take much more,

I’m yearning for calm to settle the war.

[Verse 2]

My kitchen’s a warzone; it’s a sensory fight.

Garlic and onions—nothing smells right.

The trash is brewing its own parade,

Every whiff hits like a handgrenade.

[Chorus]

OH...My aching head, it’s about to explode.

Every sound adds another heavy load.

Just some peace and quiet, that’s all I crave.

To rescue me from this pounding wave.

[Verse 3]

My husband’s chatter just won’t cease.

A whirlwind of words, no sign of peace.

Blah Blah This! Blah Blah That!

Please, enough!—my brain’s gone flat.

[Chorus]

OH...My aching head, it’s about to explode.

Every sound adds another heavy load.

Just some peace and quiet, that’s all I crave.

To rescue me from this pounding wave.

[Outro]

This stupid song, it's a big mistake,

A pounding headache I just can't shake.

Singing this tune, my sanity's at stake,

It's driving me mad—It's one big headache!

 A Dance with a Stranger

The flashing lights danced on the checkered floor, pulsating with every beat of the music. The rhythm coursed through my body as though I was part of the song. People flickered like colored ghosts—red, blue, purple, white, yellow—disappearing into darkness when the beat stopped. A new pulse ignited an uproar, shaking the crowd into a frenzy. Bright dots shimmered and darted across the incandescent floor squares, chasing the pounding rhythm.

Making my way through the dance floor to our table, I caught sight of him sitting at a crowded table, talking but watching me. I smiled slightly and veered left to join my party. My newlywed husband of three months was dancing in the middle of a group of women, throwing 70s-style moves that no one uses anymore. I smirked at his foolishness, lifted my drink from the table, and took a long sip.

"What are you drinking?" a voice yelled over my shoulder. Turning, I saw the man from the table—pink lips under a finely trimmed mustache.

"Sex on the beach," I said, cheeks burning as he turned and walked toward the bar. His gait had an effortless charm. When he returned, he handed me a drink and sat beside me.

"What’s this?" I asked.

"Sex on the beach," he said with a grin. His dark brown eyes met mine, framed by slightly curly black hair. Before I could ask his name, he leaned closer. "Wanna dance?" he asked as the music shifted.

We hit the dance floor, the groove fast and exhilarating. There was no need for touching; our steps spoke louder. I had to look up to see his face. His mustache curved downward at the edges, and his chin, slightly pointy, was softened by a hint of stubble. His uniform—a pressed navy blue shirt and straight-legged pants adorned with shiny brass—hinted at his military rank. His eyes never left mine. As the music slowed, he took my hands, pulling me closer. The couples around us clung together, swaying to the soft melody.

"What’s your name?" he finally asked.

"Carol," I replied. "And yours?"

He tapped the name tag above his breast pocket. We danced until the music changed again, transitioning back to the high-energy beat. Time blurred as we moved together. 

When the night ended, he walked me back to my seat. My husband approached, kissed my cheek, and the man disappeared into the crowd without a word.

As we left, I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d met the man of my dreams—tall, dark, handsome, and in uniform. A stranger from out of town who, for one night, felt like destiny. 

The next day, my girlfriend told me he’d returned to the nightclub and asked about me. His name, etched on his uniform, stayed with me, unforgettable. But I never acted on my impulses. That moment faded, like the music, leaving only a bittersweet memory of what could have been.

Day 15 Refections of being a YouTuber

Day 15 Refections of being a YouTuber

How I feel about Today

What life is like today by AI generated images. 

Words entered "a picture of when life hands you lemons make lemonade "

Renaming my YouTube Channel

Hey everybody 

I have been thinking hard today about my channel. I really need to niche down but finding that niche is hard. It has been so hard that my brain hurts, but I think I have found a niche for me. 

As you may know or not know, I have been married to Eugene, AKA Mr. Crazy Rummagesale Man, for 31 years. I think maybe marriage advise is the way to go. We can to podcast together and just talk about how to get along and other things like that. 

So I am also thinking about changing my channel name from LC Sanders to the same name as my blogger name, "Married in Arkansas."

So what do you think? Not only can I use Blogger for my writing, but I can relate everything to my channel here on YouTube.
And I also want to change my icon from my sim to a picture of me. Will one of these pictures work, or should I get a more professional picture taken? I am trying to keep all this real. 

Please head over to my YouTube channel and check out my community post and let me know which picture you think I should choose, or should I do something else?

Thanks for reading, and any and all comments are welcome.

Lisa's Corner #21

A new place in Sardis called "Farm to Table Country Kitchen and Vintage Market" opened earlier this year. After the previous owner closed up shop, I figured it would just sit there as another empty building.

One weekend while driving by on Sardis Road, my husband and I were talking about what we would do it if we were able to get the building. I was thinking it would be a good place for a community center to rent out for weddings, family reunions, birthdays, etc. My husband thought it would be a great place to open a resturant and play live music. Back in the 90’s, we lived in Monticello and patronized a place called Melodies and Meals. They played live music and the owners wife cooked all the food. It was only a small place on Main Street in Monticello but the local musicians came to practice and play.

Tom Self and Carl Johnson (my dad). Taken in the mid 1980's.

My husband and I have been in the resale business for over 20 years together. I grew up with a father who would sell at the Pine Bluff Flea Market and he opened several different kinds of small shops in Sheridan. Buying and selling has been part of my life for most of my life so having a husband who also grew up buying and selling shouldn’t be no surprise to those who know me. My husband has been buying and selling since he could pull his little red wagon. He would sell turnip greens from his daddies garden. He was the youngest buyer in Southeast Arkansas at the local auction in Monticello. He was a ringman at the local auction and worked with several different auctioneers over the years. Everyone in Monticello knew him and selling is in his blood. He is also knowable in antique glass and vintage stuff in general. His auction family taught him well.

We personally know Wesley and Charlene Brown who now own the metal building next to the Dollar Store on Sardis. They are having great success. The locals are coming in to check it out even if it is just to browse. Everyone keeps asking about the kitchen. I think everyone is going to be surprised when they get a taste of Charlene’s cooking. She can cook anything. I am so glad that it was bought by them. They even have kept the Shoe tree alive that was taken down by the road department. A local painter painted a likeness of the Shoe tree on the metal building complete with shoes.

So when you have a free Saturday afternoon, take a little drive to Sardis. You will know you are in Sardis because you will see a sign that states “All Roads Lead to Sardis.” Stop in and say “hi” to Wesley and Charlene. Please feel free to browse around. They have a little bit of everything and if they don’t have it just ask. Tell them what you are looking for and they will pass it on to their booth renters. We like to know what you are looking for whether it is something vintage, handmade or new. Let us know. Your feedback is greatly appreciated.

I think we have a strong community that can band together to help support our local business. Thanks again, Lisa Sanders 08/12/2018.

Safe Spaces

     From my second story window I could see the old bag lady. She pushed her wobbley Harvest Foods shopping cart across the Eighth Street Bridge. She wobbled like the cart from an old hip injury, and sang an inaudible song as the wheels squeaked. I could always tell when it was midnight because that's when I'd hear the first sign of her approach from the South. Looking out my window, I could see the library that I had checked books out from last week, and a tall apartment building for retired people blocked my view of the state capital. When the dirty, gray-haried woman's singing voice died away, I would get restless and felt the need to walk to the park a block away.
     I might as well get up. I can't sleep again tonight. I said to myself as the baby kicked inside of me. I wore the sleeveless, blue-striped dress my huband's grandmother made for me. We couldn't afford to go out and buy maternity clothes. We couldn't afford anything better than a one bedroom, roach-infested apartment in the downtown area. I grabbed my keys and slipped on my sandals with a broken strap. Might as well go the park and soak my aching feet. I descended the twenty steps easily. I was six months pregnant and, at least, I could still see my toes.
     At the bottom of the entraceway, a white aluminum door was my only protection from the bums who lived on the streets. I had my keys to unlock that thin door and the solid wooden door to our upstairs apartment but safety was the last thing on my mind. I walked South to the corner where a beer/liquor/candy/cigarette store stood. I sure to miss the sweet smell of cigarette smoke. I thought as I saw the display ad for Marlboro. I quit smoking when I found out I was pregnant in March.
     Our street was well lit but the street going East and West was quiet and dark. At the 3rd house on the left some people were sitting on their front porch. I assumed they were talking about me. I could feel goose bumps make my arm hairs stand on end. I walked faster until I passed by the cold brick house. I never felt safe until I reached that fountain. The red, yellow and blue lights under the water made the fountain indescent. The safe place had a low, five-brick wide edge for me to sit on and to feel the sprinkling of stray water hit my face and legs. I slipped off my shoes and plunged my feet into the water. The icy water felt angelic on my tired ankles.
     I wonder where my husband is tonight? I wonder if he even knows that I come here? I wonder if he even cares? This is my special place. This fountain takes away all my pain. It makes me feel that the only thing that exist in life are the two of us. My baby kicks inside of me. I lay back on the hard cold bricks that feel my frustration. I hear nothing. I see nothing. I relax to get away from my life.
     To the East, a harvest moon, like a big white ball in the sky hides behind a five-story building under contructions that has ghost like light shining through its big holes. A silver fence surrounds it and protects if from the park. A brown, haunting gazebo sits on empty barrels above the man-made, clear water pond. South of that, a high foot bridge, with wire across the top so no one, two women and three teenage boys, can plummet to their death onto the busy freeway underneath. To the West of the safe place, 6th Street is lined with crack houses and stolen cars.
     Sometimes, I would see red lights illuminating from a bedroom window or a drug deal going down on the street. If they looked my way, I would pretend I never saw a thing. I pulled my wet wrinkled feet out of the water and slipped them into the old sandals. I walked East, toward 6th Street and saw a group of men coming out the shadows towards me. I turned North. I walked faster. When I reached the corner store I heard a voice say "We'll get'r nex time." I knew it was the ninety's but safety wasn't important to me. All I cared about was getting away from the cramped apartment and finding a place where I could dream.

Update on my Life

     I want to update everyone who has read any of my post on things I have previously written but it seems I never have time. Well, I think I am going to start making time. Things are better than they used to be. We own our own land. We have good jobs and things are going good but as I watch things on YouTube, I get down because, well, it seems life could be over in the blink of an eye.

     What am I referring to? Besides the left and the one world government trying to take over? Well, it is Yellowstone National Park, It is Hawaii and the vulcano. It is the strange weather we are having and others in the world are having.

     It feels like things are looking up for us in our personal and financial lives but the world is crumbling down around us. They don't immediately effect us and our lives on a large scale but they will on a small scale down the road.

     I would like to write about exciting things - like telling you I have been abducted by aliens or that I had a near death experience and I saw Jesus and God - but I can't. I haven't had anything extraordinary happen to me nor my family. Even my mother-in-law who is getting older, survived colon cancer and mostly bed bound seems to be perculating right along.

     No, things aren't bad in my life (except for the fact that I can't lose weight.) 

I hope to find all my stories and post them on this blog and get them updated because I didn't know Triond is gone so all my writings went with them. But I do have them written down in a book somewhere so that is another plus. And I also want to tell you about my mom. She wrote things down in a diary but I don't know if I should be putting them on here for the whole world to see or not. I kind of want to but then again I don't. Let me know what you think?

Until next time, have a good day. Lisa

Chopping Block

I have some scrap wood from a house being built.

This is one of the smaller boards.

This will be the bottom.

I have sanded it down super smooth.

I have some scrap carpet that I am going to glue onto the bottom part.
I am going to use vegetable oil on it and I have an engraver.
I am going to engrave my name on it.
I will post the final pictures when I get it all done. I have several more blocks. I have an electric sander so when I get the right sandpaper for it, I will sand them down. I am thinking about giving them as Christmas presents. If I get real good, I might make more and try to sell them.

Homemade Compost Bin

Compost Bin made from wood pallets.

I started Sunday with only 4 pallets.

I used 3 for the sides and one for the bottom.

I used wire to keep the ends together.

I had mosquito netting which I stapled along the bottom.

And I stapled more of the netting around the bottom to hold in the compost.

I filled it with dead leaves, wood and grass from the yard.

After filling it

Since I do not have another pallet

I am using a board to block it off.

Peanut is our little brown dog on the left. The neighbors dog is on the other side of the fence trying to dig a hole to get out on the left.

I have my green bucket which I filled with water

I poured the water over the grass and

covered it with a peace of black plastic to it will get hot.

Marinating.

August 27th 2016 Small project at home

This is what we did today. It took us all day, my husband and I, but that's okay. We have to do things for ourselves.

 We put two peaces of plywood down for a floor to keep them off of the ground.

I don't know if they have taken advantage of it yet.

We are going to get some straw and enclose this front side that you see. The left side is the North side and I am hoping it keeps out the cold winds.

It may not be perfectly square or plumb but when I asked the dogs to raise their hands if any of them objected - we didn't get any hands up.

This is how it works.

August 11, 2016

Hello Blogger!
Long Time No Blogging.
A lot has changed so I think it is time to start posting again.