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A home without a wall, |
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| How to Join | Member's Area | Private Library | Search | Sanctuary | Login | |
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| Main Forums | Discussion | Tech Talk | Mature Content | Archives |
A home without a wall, |
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| pipTalk Lounge |
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serenity's interactive journal |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738
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Hmmm. type type type Nope. Backspace. Tapping fingers...hmmm...  Okay! You go first!  |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Tease...  |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Sounds more like serenity's in(ter)active journal! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
enter active? (well I can dream, can't I?)  sigh... what did the two of you do today? I already know my story. Seriously, tho. If you don't like today, tell me what you dreamed last night... |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Funny you should ask. I dreamed that I was drowning. Woke myself up, holding my breath. Which reminded me of the time I almost drowned when I was seven. But that's another story. Next... |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
Dear Santa, I've been a very good boy this year, so I hope you'll see fit to give me the only present I'm asking for: an address list of all the girls who've been naughty! Signed, Chris [This message has been edited by Christopher (12-04-2003 08:26 PM).] |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Duncan dreams of drowning? hmmm...duncan...duncan...DUNKIN'! this could be very significant. or? shrug. NOT. and hey you, Christopher? first gimme a hug and kiss, and then you'll have to settle for half my number, as I was only naughty for half the year. Then I got tired.  |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Ahhh, come on Karen. I'm snowed in with the psycho blonde and could REALLY use a colorful distraction...tell us a story!!!! Please... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"tell me a story" sheesh. You sound like somebody we know. Hmmm... scratchin' my head. I'm thinking maybe I should have put this journal in Grok. I'll try to think of one that's pg. (And stop wagging yer tail. That's so annoying.) |
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Paula Finn Member Ascendant
since 2000-06-17
Posts 5546missouri |
Chris what makes you think we have been naughty (hastily hiding the whips and leather oh uh GEESH) Serenity...if you start telling stories you better post them in adult LOL |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Sitting patiently. Not wagging. Not begging. Not whining. Not yet...  |
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
It's snowing... I'm whining...  |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
okay, Dunc, because I'm feeling basically lazy today, I'll share a story I've told to a couple of Pip members already, and I don't believe it's one that I've posted on these boards before. But since I recently sorted through my closet and discovered the only thing missing was the size spacers on department store racks I thought I'd share this one with ya. Let's just call it: I think the year was 1994. I had my children 18 months apart, and being fairly destitute, I applied for the government commodities program for help with formula for the kids, and all the various extras. Including--ta da!--welfare cheese! nodding here, you guessed it, two babies, two years and welfare cheese--yep, my weight ballooned to mumble-mumble. I really didn't pay much attention to the weight gain, nor did I notice that as my children began to walk and run, so did I--and the pounds just melted off without my paying too much attention. Flash forward to carnival, of that same year, 1994. One of my favorite parades (Alla) rolls near my mother's home, and I had acquired a double stroller for safety's sake for my children for the sole purpose of attending parades. (With room for a small ice chest left over too!) The streets were blocked, allowing pedestrians to walk in the street to the parade route. While I was walking, I felt a sudden rush of breeze, and yep, my too-lawge-drawse had fallen to my ankles beneath my crepe maxi skirt. Hmmm. What to do? I'm surrounded by hundreds of people in broad daylight, and I really didn't want to draw attention to my plight by stopping to pull them up, nor did I want to fight the damned things for three hours while I did my Mardi Gras thang. So? I simply stepped out of them casually and continued walking. I was a bit amused, naturally, and my friend wondered what on earth I was snickering about, so I turned around and discreetly pointed them out to her, explaining what had happened.  "you mean you're just going to leave them there?"Um, why not? After all, I pointed out, they don't fit. But then my unnatural paranoia got the best of me, and I began to sweat a bit, convinced that someone would come along and KNOW they belonged to me. (*chuckle* My sister said, "Yeah, right Karen. Someone was going to come along and say to their buddy, 'look, there's a pair of panties.' and the buddy would reply, 'OMG, those are Karen's!" )sigh. Okay, so I'm a little paranoid. But then it occurred to me, that this IS New Orleans, and one of the most popular throws from the floats of our illustrious parades is--PANTIES! I paled in horror, thinking of some proud drunk waving my underwear in the air like a trophy and decided that no, I couldn't have that. (Not in public, anyway--wicked grin.) So I very casually pushed the stroller back to where they were sadly abandoned, and kicked them discreetly into the gutter on the curb. So there you have it, Dunc. That's the demise of my "too lawge drawse". Your turn. Tell me, do you have some interesting stories regarding your underwear? C'mon.  "Throw me somethin' mister!"[This message has been edited by serenity blaze (12-06-2003 03:44 PM).] |
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darkness_witch Senior Member
since 2003-12-03
Posts 516Underneath |
since we're on the whole story telling level: this should dampen your moods: My heart an open wound Lost and broken I’ll find you near Though pain is resistance I can’t find a reason to let go Bleeding and reaching toward the light This pain is all I can see But life is just too confusing to fight… So wipe my eyes Hold me close Let me feel your bleeding betrayal Let me show you what real pain feels like Let me cry on your pillow Lying and crying I seek my right This hunger is taking over But love is just too confusing to fight… So wipe my eyes Taste my mind with filthy curiosity Rearrange my heart Close your eyes to shield the light Of electric hate and blinding regret Hiding and struggling through the frozen night This hate is suffocating me But everything’s just too confusing to fight… So wipe my eyes. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Thanks Karen!!! It wasn't easy (given my snowed in situation) but I was patient and ya didn't dissapoint me. So, you want a story back? Gimme a few (days, weeks), I'll see what I can come up with. Though our buddy tells me that I tend to just spit 'em out, without much thought to detail. We'll see... And thanks again. I do love stories. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
darkness_witch? welcome to my little world, where both damp and spirits abound! I especially liked the part about filthy curiousity.  And tsk...Dunc? you'd better get back in here--you don't think I'd let ya get off that easily, do ya? |
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Nightshade 
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Your turn. Tell me, do you have some interesting stories regarding your underwear? Umm...hee hee hee..I do. This actually has happened to me more than once, which makes me think I must slow down a couple of paces. Anyway, throughout the day I felt that my undies were abit uncomfortable and yet in another way...a reminder of another time. In the evening I decided to have a bubble bath and when I stripped off(had to use that term to make this more exciting), my undies, I realized with much embarrassment and wonderment, that the cotton crotch was on my hip!! Somehow I had managed to put my undies on sideways! Now, you are probably wondering what type of memory this brought back to me.....well, years ago(not that many thankyou!)there were not any cotton crotches in undies, you just felt the silkiness against your....err...umm....they weren't made that way. Ah, yes, the good old days.  Karen....did this make any sense at all? Did I ruin your thread? I hope not. If anyone thinks this is easy to do - wear your crotch on your hip - I dare ya to try it!! I'll just go now. hee hee..bye, Chris |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Ya know Karen...being Chris's sister and all..well, not 'and all'..but you know what I mean..I can vouch for her that this really happened. I think that it's because when she was younger she took English riding lessons. Don't they ride side saddle? Hence the crotch on the hip syndrome. Moi? Don't ask Chris pleeeeease!!!  Okay...there was this time I was staying at a swanky motel and was in the whirlpool with a ton of people..water was so hot it melted the elastic in the legs of my swimsuit.. Guess I was quite a sight when I climbed out.. Okay Karen...tell us another story. Pleeeease. This is your journal. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
grins at Chris--YEP--it's easy to do--especially with those french cut panties! and I've solved the pantie problem--I just quit wearing 'em. (Okay, okay, I wear 'em when my kids have sleepovers--sheesh. )And more stories? hmmm...I'll have to rifle through the files a bit--this story-telling bit seems to come to me more naturally when I am hijacking someone else's thread. (and Ronnie Baby, I've been trying to behave--I swear I didn't know there was an etiquette about that--sheesh and sheesh again.)  So..somebody ask me a question? There's a lot stuff to be mined in my mind that I have forgotten I still remember. (huh?) nod. coffee. brb. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Gee, I didn't know you were in ter active, what else are you in ter? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
rupted? |
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
..rogatory? |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
esting  |
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Mistletoe Angel
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
galactic...  Hey Karen, now this is an interactive journal! I have enjoyed your wonderful story and witty chat! It has been about six years since I've been down to N'Owleans, so that's how it is down there now! Got any stories from the Atchafalaya Basin to share to us? I have long been fascinated with that Cajun wonderland, it feels like South of Eden to me! Just read a Smithsonian article about it the other day, by golly, they must save the crawfish plantations, what is real Cajun culture without the crawfish and the McIlhennys?Hey, if I ever got my Philippe Mr. Ernewein on here, he'd have a heck of a lot of good Louisiana stories to tell on and on about! Three years ago I got to witness my first ever King Cake encounter with him, and he happened to get the plastic baby in his piece! Hey, how did that whole tradition start anyway? Everyone just wants the baby! From the mountains to the bayou, I send clearwater hugs just for you!  Love, Noah Eaton "You'll find something that's enough to keep you |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hey Noah sweetie! It's kind of you to drop in (I see from YOUR journal you have more of a life to report than I) and thanks for generous comments, as this was interactive journal thing was your baby to begin with (here at Pip anyway) and speaking of babies, I believe the baby in the king cake started out as a golden bean with the krewe of Rex--but I'll check it out and report back to you. and I've yet another baby to report too. (calm down people, the journal has not become that interactive. )Saturday night, when that cold front came pushing through here, we found a little surprise on our porch. A puppy. That's right. A puppy. On the porch. A porch puppy. So of course, I said, "Damn, Duncan, you look like you could use a bath and a bite to eat!" smile. He's sleeping peacefully on MY pillow right now too. (sans underwear, Dunc! *giggle*) But-- he's a mixed breed terrier type, blonde, which is kind of rare for terriers, and is excellent at begging. He's truly a sweetie tho, but obviously spoiled and accustomed to being doted on (any similarities are entirely coincidental, Dunc, )So...tomorrow I'll look for his mommy/owner. I usually just ask the mailman. They always seem to know. But oh yes, he's a little heartbreaker--and housebreaker! (growls with winks) g'nite sweet poets. (serenity types quietly as terriers have excellent hearing...) |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
pout...now I miss MY dog... smile he sounds adorable...and smart too...he knew which house to come to, where he'd get to sleep on a nice comfy pillow...lol you're SUCH a softie... but don't worry..I won't tell...grin hugs, you... |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Ya know I was really HOPING for a Serenity story to read with my coffee this morning, but I wasn't expecting quite THIS!! Don't know if I could be smilin' any bigger, unless of course, it was ME sleeping on your pillow... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
(Dunc? check your e mail for a full report. Cutie. Grin.) Now. *ahem* It's been pointed out to me that I don't seem to understand the concept of journaling. I suppose that if one thinks of journals as an orderly "log" of one's life--then yep--that's entirely true. I don't understand the concept of that. I have started journals many times, and most of them had one or two neat entries, the date carefully penned, my print making indentations in the paper as if I could "will" the discipline into the pages. Smile. That never did work for me. I just saw an interview with Moon Zappa, who spoke about her "process" while writing her novel. She said it was like "collaging". That's sort of how I operate too. So if my little stories don't unfold sequentially, please understand that very little about me does. Boys and girls? Please take out your scissors and cut these pictures out. Then on a piece of paper, use your glue to piece them together to form a story that makes sense to you. There is no grade for this project other than your own amusement. If at any time you get bored with the pictures provided, feel free to draw your own. In fact, I'm hoping to encourage just that very thing. (I may bore you silly, but I find you extremely interesting.) Quite a mess, ain't I? In fact, my own mother pointed that out to me recently, saying it with some annoyance and the surprise of someone who had forgotten a minor detail. "You were born a mess, Karen Anne." (She's a good mother, folks, the above comment was brought on by some health issues that have come up lately for me.) I must say that I have to agree with her. How she managed to cope with me at all, being the "surprise" fifth child and born with some special problems, I thought, "You're a better woman than me, Mom. I'd have lost my mind." (Note my assumption of sanity there, folks. )So I thought I'd let you in on the birth of a "witch" (serenity cackles here) under the premise that it is never too late to start at the beginning. Not when you've started over as many times as I have. I was born on--backspace--wait a minute, that's only interesting to astrologers and archivists. The year is fine, 1961. The year is kind of vital information because, it has been pointed out to me, that I was conceive 6 months before the birth control pill became available to the public. ("Whew!" exclaimed the egg and the sperm.) I think about that sometimes and so much about me makes sense then. I am a procrastinator, and yet, I operate remarkably well under the threat of an impending deadline. There's a word for this that I love alot. It's a german word, with no English equivalent: torschlusspanik - roughly translated as an 11th hour rush of energy, with midnight being the finale'. I am more than lazy until then, and seem to thrive on the rush of energy that screams "OH NO." Nod. (I see some of you out there nodding your heads. I ain't so weird, now, huh?) But I digress from my digression. Grin. I was born a fairly happy baby I have heard. That lasted as long as it took for me to get hungry. Y'see, I was born allergic to everything but goat's milk. (Mmmhmmm. That's right. GOAT's MILK. As in the great horned god, Baphomet - giggling at my own drama here) But b'wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwoooooooooooooo (<--eerie music) There you have it. The first sign of a witch. Then there was the remarkable ability I had to produce my own allergens, most notably, my own urine. (there ain't too much I won't confide) But this necessitated me to be raised skyclad for the first year of my life, as I could not be diapered. I don't believe I had a babybed, but was kept quite comfortable in a playpen, with padding that had to be changed with the frequency one would a diaper. Second sign of the witch. Third sign. By age four, I developed "the evil eye". I had "lazy eye" for which I had surgery to correct at age six. Fourth sign? More surgery at age ten. Oral surgery. Seems I grew two rows of bottom teeth and tsk...one of 'em had to go. Now keep in mind that I still had all these mystery allergies too, so my skin was always in a state of eruption or recovery. I was thin--then I'd get fat. Shaking my head. I truly was born a mess. I was such a mess, in fact, that my mother once shook her head while thinking about it, commenting, "Had you been born in the Holy Days, you would have found your fate to be begging for alms outside of the temple!" grin. Now ya'll see where I get "it" from. So that's it for today folks. I hope it sparked some memory triggers for you to relate to--I like stories too. Your turn? |
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Ron
Administrator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-05-19
Posts 8669Michigan, US |
You were simply born too early, Karen. My son was born twelve years after you. A very expensive baby formula and an equally expensive salve, both available in 1973, would have granted you a much more normal early childhood. I doubt it would have changed much, though. My boy isn't a witch, but neither is he completely normal. |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas |
So said the Wonderful Wizzerd to the Witty Wiccan Witch who learned to rede afore she could read. Nothing quite like the sound of wheels spinning violently on the trainer with huffin and puffin and much ado about nuthin and only after dismounting that hybrid beast can one marvel how rubbery the legs seem to be, as this house ain't no boat 'less the crick overflows. Yet another reason for keeping bikes on stilts out of the house. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Ok, so I owe you a story huh? Well, like you K, my best ones can’t be posted here, but I’m sure I can think of something. Hmmm...how about a mouse story? Birmingham. I was 21, maybe 22. I had a young boa constrictor that had to be fed baby mice. Geez, maybe this isn’t such a good story... Anyway, I bought a baby mouse from the pet shop. (Just an after thought. Nobody tell Kacy about this thread, ok? I put it in the aquarium with the snake and waited. She didn’t eat it right away and it was still there when Sherry got home from work. She and the snake weren’t real close, if ya know what I mean. First she got mad, then she begged me to “save the mouse”. Somewhere around midnight, plied by something, I’m sure, I told her if she wanted to save the mouse, she was welcome to stick her hand in and get it out. I didn’t think she’d do it. But can’t say I was surprised when she did. I told her it wouldn’t live but she was determined to try. (This was a tiny little hairless pinkie mouse). She fed it with a tissue dipped in milk as often as it would eat. And for the next two days she took the mouse everywhere she could, only leaving it in my care when she went to work. We went out to dinner. She had it in her purse. Discreetly, thank God. I had visions of a waitress seeing it, screaming and well, you’ve seen the movies... She said that if it lived, she would name it Faith. And I was a bit relieved to see that she was puttin’ this one on god and not me. A couple of months later, Faith was a healthy, happy, plump little mouse who thought Sherry was her mother. She lived for years and was a part of Sherry's life alot longer than I was... It was pretty amazing, when I think about it. That mouse shouldn’t have lived. Faith, funny thing sometimes, huh? Remind me next time, I’ll tell ya about my rock named Serenity... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Is it "next time" yet? (and I think your mouse story may have trumped mine) |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
And Ron? sigh. Born too soon? giggle. I don't think I've ever suggested to you before that you think again, but this time, I think I will. (before I duck and run) Had I been born to the timeline of your suggestion, there is a possibility (minute perhaps, but still a very real possibility) that I could have met your son, and, nodding here, you already know where I'm going with this, doncha Gramps? *wince* I re-iterate: "Whew!" exclaimed the egg and the sperm. (I'm counting on your patient sense of humor for this'n.) and Ali? gawd, lovie, you give great syntax. You've been muchly missed, and it's great to see your type again. and now, g'nite sweet poet folk. Don't wake me until my last dream is over--unless there's a better reality calling. Hmmm. Sleeping with the phone tonight. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Shhhh....Karen's sleeping. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
It occurred to me today that I may well have been a speed bump in a previous life... Knock, knock... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Who's there? |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Midas... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Midas who? |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Midas well let me in, since I'm the only one knockin'... |
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KristieSue
since 2003-01-31
Posts 1460PA, US |
definitely in ter esting :-) Do songs on the radio sing to all the fools in love? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Smile. Duncan? Unbeknownst to you, you've gone and sparked another memory... Remember those forty foot fiberglass Midas Muffler guys? I used to live in the shadow of one of those--he'd had his muffler removed from his hands, and was tranformed into a cowboy for a local country and western bar. I happened to live in the parking lot of that bar, with my two sisters. (In a house, of course, but nevertheless, it was in the parking lot.) Further? The bar happened to be located in a "very bad" neighborhood, about six blocks from the now non-existant "Fischer Homes"--which was a notorious local housing project. I've a few stories in that locale--great fun--one involves the s.w.a.t. team too. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
So??? Whacha waitin' on?? Tell us another story!!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I'll be back... sigh. Right now I have deathmetal blaring in my house, the kids want tacos, and I'm supposed to be putting up Christmas shtuff-- and now? the puppy needs to go out, too!  Be patient, if mommy serenity gets in her groove, maybe she'll bake cookies too! ta ta for now! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh Gads...now I'm here to beg each of you for more....[as I spin the wheels on yet another Konrad yarn which, as we all know, Dunc hasn't been in to see the first one, just yet...] |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
I have seen, read and very much appreciated. I just haven't responded yet. Geez...and I thought I missed you, Kari. Just for that, I may take my good ole' time about gettin' over to visit Konnie. Ladadadeedadada........ Karen, I'll be patient while ya get in yer groove thang...but I want tacos, cookies and stories!! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Be careful what you wish for Duncan, I sent her a "recipe" site today LOL, now there has to be story about Serenity brownies in her mind somewhere I am betting? By the way Duncan, your ex was a good gal, I would have saved the dang mouse and probably knit it a sweater and socks to keep it warm. Brother Karen, you have to come up with a good one to beat my golden swan story from Italy dontca LOL? Go ahead try to beat it, I dare yah, or is that ya'll? |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen has a puppy? I must have missed a chapter!  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Duncan doesn't even have a clue as to how to play ketchup...as there are two Konnie stories [JM should be wheeling around soon] up now, and no, Serenity, by no way am I taking YOUR thread up as a catch for mine [but Duncan shoved me into a corner] [so I won't tell him how many more may show - and there may be a gold mine in there somewhere....] so K...tell me.... what stories of ghosts might you have for one like me? because darlin'? Lately, I probably could match you, seriously...and deliriously.... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
It took me all day to pin down the year I moved into that house, so I'm going to type that first: 1987. And once again starting at the beginning is vexing me--life isn't neat little files to me--it's all permutations and considerations and gray ooze, with splashes of day-glo paint under flourescent blacklights--so follow the bouncing ball if you can, good people. (<--serenity needs an editor) It really was a two-bedroom creole cottage, located in the parking lot of a country & western bar in an all-black neighborhood. The land was configured in the way that industrial doesn't plan. An "L-shaped" piece of gravel, shaded only by one pine tree and a fiberglass cowboy. no air conditioning anyhoo-- that's where we lived. We heard Patsy Cline wannabees whine "Crazy" on Saturday night, and heard the doors of the churches open wide on Sunday morning stomping glory, and confusion, too at times--but just all clean starch scent intensity in that palms up praise gospel that made ya feel alive again. I used to lay in bed and listen. Our landlord's name was "Bob." The rent was $250 a month. We were called "the twisted sisters" and we lived in a place, named affectionately, "The Compound." (somethin' to do with six foot fences and barbed wire rolls) Not once do I recall locking a door, or even worrying about it. I learned later that the general consensus of the neighborhood is that any white girl who would live there must be nuts. So they left us alone. pretty much. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
More please. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
So, how's the puppy??? I thought about matching your year, 87, but that would’ve put me in Pittsburgh and those are not my favorite stories. So, guess I’ll go with the theme of named houses. As in “The Compound”. Ours was called “The White House”. Again...Birmingham. Same house as the mouse story, but the cast has changed. Sherry was gone, enter Cindy, Susie and Bill. It was July or August, not sure which. It was the first time in my life I’d lived someplace without air-conditioning. We had a fan from a roller rinks exhaust system in the window. I guess the sound gave the illusion of something more than hot, circulating air. We had a Husky named Sky, a kitten named Easy, and I was dog sitting a friends psycho poodle, Benson. I don’t remember if it was the hottest 2 weeks on record or if it just got stored in my brain that way, but let me tell ya, it was hot. During the day, it was well over a hundred degrees and we hid out in the room with the fan. At night, the temperature would drop a mere 10-15 degrees, but it felt like fall when we were lucky enough to get a breeze. Much to our neighbors horror, we’d hung out on the roof, ever since we moved in. One of the bedrooms had a window that stepped right out onto it. Seemed like an invitation to us. The White House was an old two-story home on Birmingham’s Southside. It’d been a grand columned estate at one time. Now it was four apartments, in bad need of repair. The entry hall and stairway, looked like an alien had thrown up on the walls. Our apartment had a drop ceiling, which was only halfway hung. That was a great conversation starter...lol. So anyway, the roof was a bit more scenic than the rest of the place. During those two weeks of heat, we slept on the roof when it cooled down at night. The four of us, the two dogs and the kitten. I don’t think the neighbors ever saw us. The sound of the city buses breaking at the corner usually woke us unmercifully early and we were back inside before they woke up. |
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Mistletoe Angel
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
 Awwwwwwwwww! I'd love to see pictures of Lil' Duncan! Have you take any? Maybe if you or one of your friends has a scanner you can share them with us, yay!I love the company of all kinds of animals, I truly feel they share the emotions that we have, as I've seen puppies feel sad when they miss an owner or loved one, or respond to a loss in a family! I know how blessed Duncan is by your friendship and this gift of naming this cute puppy after him! LOL! I really enjoyed your story of the landlord and all! Hehehe, I can't wait to read much more of your wonderful escapades and adventures!  Have the happiest holidays, my dearest friend! Love, Noah Eaton "You'll find something that's enough to keep you |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Okay, a little "catch-up." Yes, I seem to have a puppy (although I keep in mind it may temporary) Nobody seems to know where the little dog came from, however. And although I named him "Duncan" immediately, he and the family seem to have other ideas. We've gone through a list of names and the only one he seems to answer to is "Fred." As in "Freedom Fred"--a friend of ours from long ago (ever notice how all my stories are from beyond the statute of limitations? ) But Freedom Fred never answered to anybody either and was known to show up on a porch or two in his time. But I still call our puppy "Duncan" when no one else is around and his ears do perk up, and he tends to quit chewing too. (Those rawhide bones in my robe might be a clue.)But he looks like Freedom Fred, as in that terrier way, he has that shaggy bearded look--and if I say "dammit, Fred" he also skulks guiltily in the same fashion Fred used to. But names are a metamorphasis in our world too--especially for the pets. Back when we lived at "The Compound" I acquired a puppy by pretty much the same circumstances. He eventually bore the name, "Bubba 'No-Nuts' Johnson." The Bubba part was a nod to the cowboys there--the Johnson was the name of the family "up front" whose house he was born under--and "No-Nuts?" Well, sheepish smile, the puppy had a small testicular problem. He outgrew it. And believe it or not, all of this IS leading up to the SWAT team story...grin. Just keep cutting these pictures, m'friends. It will all make sense someday. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
snip snip... paste... snip snip snip loving every one of these snapshots, and can't wait to see what's next...smile |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"I guess the sound gave the illusion of something more than hot, circulating air." Nodding here. Box fans flicker lights. HOT. Just hot....so hot we wore togas. We froze empty 2-liter bottles of soda and slept with them. We froze five gallon buckets that once kept ice cream, and placed them in front of the fans in the tall windows. It really was that damned hot. I always thought it odd that we, the twisted sisters of barroom's fame would end up living in the parking lot of a bar we had no desire to entertain--the bar was twenty five steps away from our back door and we never (okay, we seldom) entertained ourselves in that line dance. I got in trouble with Bob, the landlord too. It was all a big misunderstanding. I wasn't actually CHARGING those trucks to park--but just accepting "tips"--and I swear, I wasn't signalling with the flashlight---the batteries were loose. I musta made over fifty bucks before I was told to stop. But once I was asked to stop, I certainly did--we went inside and that is when I/we came up with the "cowboy game"-- this involved peering out of the back window between blinds and points given for... well...sheesh? that's another story. ya'll really oughtta ask me about that sometime. I'll give you a hint. bolero tie = 1 point Sometimes? ya just gotta have fun anyway... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
My sister (twist) was the onliest one of us that had an actual bed. Her room was all shawls and fringe, draperies that let little lights shine in, depending on the circumstance. She was smart enough to change from heavy velvet wintering to sheers that played puzzle pieces on the morning skin in summer. She had a gold crushed velvet couch, and some could sleep there when they'd been kind. But? there were times, sometimes even on Saturdays, when we had nothing to do, and we would flop belly down on her highboy bed, and on our bellies, side by side, we'd gaze out of the window and watch the cowboys roll in--spitting gravel in their ford trucks, parking in the dust there. That's when we invented the cowboy game. Let's talk about the points. smile. If it was a Ford truck, that was the move for immediate play. Only those who arrived in Fords were eligible and we didn't lack for players. The true contest began when they exited the vehicle. as I stated before-- bolero tie? = 1 point but that was only over a western shirt-- = 1 point more big bright belt buckle? = 1 point Of course, the hat was worth 2 points. 3 if it had feathers--five if covered in hatpins. Boots were worth 2 points as well, 3, if they were snakeskin. If the woman that fell out of the truck was bleach blonde? You got a nice bonus of five extra points. If at any time she said an expletive? Smile, that made it "ten." If she directed that explective at him that made it a ringer dinger fifteen bonus point. If at any time the words "yee-haw" were exclaimed, fifteen big boys were added to your total. If someone broke a bottle? oh yeah, that was the big thirty point bonus. smile. We kept ourselves amused. But that was the cowboy game. So. *ahem* I think it's the perfect time to ask for chili recipes, don't you? well I do. (and yes, I get five points for every response) |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
It's 12 degrees here as I write this. Chili seems appropriate.  More, please. And give the Duncun puppy a squeeze for me. [This message has been edited by Sunshine (12-14-2003 07:17 AM).] |
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Ron
Administrator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-05-19
Posts 8669Michigan, US |
Okay, so I would have only been worth 8 points. I still have the three points tucked away somewhere, but I lost the five-pointer(s) a ways back. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Smiling widely at Ron, playing the game... Well done, Sir! |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
"But names are a metamorphasis in our world too--especially for the pets." Well, I like the name Fred, and he kinda 'sounds' like a Fred...lol. I have a cat now, who must've had a dozen names the first year, until he finally just started answering to "Little Kitty". Which was okay when he was (little), but now he's a large, yellow lump and it just doesn't work, ya know? When I read what ya'll did with freezing the bottles of water, etc., I wondered why we'd never thought of doing that. Then a mostly spent brain cell fired and the resulting smell of smoke reminded me why... At first read of the Cowboy game, I thought I'd score a zero. Then, I was saved by the blonde!! Oh wait, I've never owned a Ford truck. Had a Subaru Brat once. Does that count??? Not even close huh?? Damn, I woulda looked good in snakeskin boots... Okay, so far we've got two "eccentric" and sometimes bored white women and a herd of drunken cowboys, all six blocks from the projects. That SWAT team's getting easier to imagine with each chapter. Tell on, please... |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
As for chili, I have two very different recipes. But first, I need to ask... thick or thin?? |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
No points for toothpicks? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
actually I did leave out a couple of things-- spurs were 2 points each, but toothpicks? can't say that was a big ticket item. Still scratching my head over Ron's hidden points. Hope it wasn't the spurs--wince-that could be painful. and Duncan, Duncan, c'mere puppy. Your namesake is still yer namesake. I have named Duncan a.k.a Freedom Fred, and I RULE here, so if I say so, then it IS. And since I am pretending I can have whatever I like however I like it, I'll take my chili thick, please. (and a generous helping of more stories, too.) And Kari? I didn't mean to ignore you either. In answer to your previous question, I have seen many things in my time, and many of them were not there, but I have never seen a ghost. My brother says he has though--he swears an apartment he rented in Texas was haunted. He moved in on Friday, checked into a Motel on Saturday, and phoned us again on Monday to give us the address of his new new apartment. All he will say about it now is that he prefers his spirits bottled. And I'll be back with more of the story after lunch. (I'm on couch patrol again, so I'll be scribbling in a notebook this morning.) sighs but smiles. and to my bookend Sharons, I AM doing better, thank you.  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah thick chili... c'mere girl... I've got some that will remove your boots! |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas |
Funny....I didn't know you could make chili that shaved..... |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Okay, so I have been secretly reading this thread...:::tapping foot::: isn't it after lunch yet? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
That all depends! In what time zone are you tapping you foot??? [The devil made me do it!] |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Oh, you are good, Kari, I am one hour behind Karen..however, it's 1605 here and I still have seen no evidence of a Karen story this afternoon...and I must go home now...I think the witch likes to keep us waiting, anticipation... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I fell back to sleep. So, the best I could do is share my dreams with ya for now, but that might prove embarrassing...wait, I have one that's PG. I dreamed about this guy. (surprise, huh?) <--wry typing. But anyhoo--this guy was just lovely to look at, but sort of angelic--the dream was very simple tho. He took the eraser side of a pencil and twisted it on the center of my forehead, saying, "You're going to need regular adjustments for awhile." giggle? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
sigh. Susan? I just tried to write the next one, but all I could hear was this conversation between my kids. I overheard them discussing the various toys, etc. being hawked this Holiday Season, and I heard my daughter bring up a "Spongebob Squarepants Bath Set." It seems not only is the kid supposed to use this cartoon character to bathe with, but in the seat of Spongebob's pants is a slit for the child to put his/her hand, in the manner of many other, non-cartoon character sponges. My son's verdict was a simple two words: "That's disturbing!" smile. I tend to agree. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Karen, I have to admit I would like to go back to the days when those where the kind of conversations my kids have... Tonights discussion with my daughter was discussing a particular friend of hers that's picture was all over the news....that friend will be "away" for awhile...*sigh* |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Did I mention it was hot? It was hot, good people. And granted, the house was built, in the correct manner of the creole cottage--two shotgunned bedrooms then the bath, leading to the kitchen, and as a nod to modern times, the L was the living room area, off to the side. It had the distinction tho, of no cross-ventilation--there were no window on the right side of the house--because, "Bob" explained, there was a pig farm there before industry moved in, and he spared himself the stench. So? no windows on the right side of the house. So Duncan, yer right. Three bored women and it was HOT...but very seldom boring. When the sun would start to go down, we could hear the caliope played on the riverboat--we were located in the armpit of the River there--then, we would get our shtuff together. We had a plastic kiddie pool, a "snap-together" I think it was called. It was the kind you just flopped on the ground and let the water give it the shape. We put this in the center of our yard. (A small piece of green we attribute to twist #2, as she was the one who watered gravel patiently until grass grew where angels feared to tread) There we had our bath. We would hook the hose up to the hot water from the laundry shed and add bath oils, bubbles, and more than a few mishapped drinks. The cowboys were as fascinated with us as we had been by them. "The hottest tub in town," one said. We smiled at cowboy wit. walk on, high plains drifter But to give ya'll an idea of how the family dynamic worked, I'll tell ya this story. It was the twisted sisters, sitting in a kiddie pool located in the "yard" of a house located in the parking lot of a country and western bar in an all black neighborhood. Completely illuminated by a big ole damned LIGHT. It came with the parking lot. It's Saturday night, and cowboys are doing their parking thang all around us, while we pretty much luxuriated, as much as three very hot women, grin, CAN luxuriate in the yard of a house located in the parking lot of a country & western bar in an all black neighborhood. (Did I stress that enough?) So twisted number two, (the one some of ya'll know from another site) notices the sad deterioration of twisted number one (there was alot of vodka in the sudsy mix of the bath by now) and says brightly, "I know! Let's all stick our heads under water and blow more bubbles!" "Okay" I agreed agreeably. Twisted number one was all too eager. "I'll count to three and we'll do it!" Okay. Twisted number two said with drama: "One...two....THREE!" We laughed our bubbles off as twisted number one ducked her poor naive head under, and we clicked our glasses as we waited for her to surface. Which she did, looking at us accusingly, noting our dry hairdo's and lack of mascara smears, saying suspiciously, "Hey......???" Sigh. We were mean to her, I do confess. But she is the oldest and we've got some sort of teamwork family dynamic revenge going on that we still can't help to this day. Poor kid. grin. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
I DO love your stories with my morning coffee... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Do you actually realize how lucky you guys were? I read these stories and remember all the nothings I had, which don't even come close to having a sister to play with, fight with, let alone make these kind of memories with. I would have traded all I had for one moment of this bath in a "put together pool" with someone to make these kinds of bonds with. Amen - sermon over for today but seriously, now this truly was living large in my books. Funny how one always wants what they can't have isn't it? Hey you! It's Christmas time, any stories to do with your family holidays Karen? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and Mysteria/sharon? Not for one instance did I intend to portray our life as to illicit sympathy. Quite the opposite. I did back off a bit, because I thought I might be construed as bragging. But? Yer right once again--because I know very well what we had and continue to have. Bored? Sure. But inventive. Lonely? Yes. But together. Hungry? well. heh heh? draw yer own conclusions? (btw, I'm quite sure you qualify as an honorary twisted, because I do know that you have been where we were--minus the location. OH. And the heat. (It really was damned hot.) The thing is though, we didn't give up. Not on life and not on each other. I love talking about how twisted #2 would water the gravel until grass through the rocks. Funny, just when she got tired, I moved in, planted a couple of gardens by the matching steps. We didn't weed the garden--but we rocked the gardens. Twisted #1 was good with the potted plants. chuckle. Now I'll try to scan this lil photo of the first offerings of first GARDEN planted on the grounds of "The Compound" since the landlord's wife moved out. Brb. Say a lil prayer for the scanner too...she's been a little light sensitive. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
How cool...we're gonna get pics?!?!?! Oh and Sharon...I got a sister I'll give ya! I'll wrap her up in Christmas paper, put a big red bow on her head, fedex her right over!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
    [This message has been edited by serenity blaze (12-18-2003 06:28 PM).] |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
And speaking of "lagniappe?" There is a lot of lagniappe I found here at Pip. Many many people, but not the least of which is the lady who actually flew me in while doing this, the fabulous Miss Vicky!!! that's right folks, vlraynes... let's all show her our appreciation! Love ya lady...  thank you |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Ok then...thanks to Vicky for flying Sen in some lasagna so she doesn't have to stop and cook while she's telling us stories.  Watering rocks, huh? Who woulda thunk it? Not a shabby garden ya had goin' on there, not bad at all. Most colorful rock garden I ever saw in fact!! Mardi gras Miracle Grow maybe??? And as it would happen, the visit to Serenity's garden reminded me of a couple stories that I promise to try and make brief... I mentioned awhile back that I had a rock...named Serenity. Last spring, which seems a thousand (warmer)lifetimes ago, I planted a small garden out back. Mostly herbs and hot peppers, nothing too ambitious since my intent was simply to relax there. To sit in the evening with a beverage, notebook and pen. Zone out on the cornfield. Count the peppers in my crop. Talk to the neighborhood strays... One day the psycho blonde and I were at the dollar store and I was looking at the gardening stuff. I picked up some stakes for the basil plant who thought it was a bush, and on the shelf above them noticed a white rock with a snail and the word "Serenity" carved into it. I thought of "our" Serenity and so placed it in the cart, anticipating her company on inspired summer evenings. Got to the check-out and when I put the rock on the counter for the clerk to ring it up, the psycho blonde says, "What's that?" I answered, "It's a rock named Serenity". And serious as she could be, she says, "I don't think that's really it's name". (Hey...she seemed brighter with the lights out, yanno???) And onto story #2, which the gladiolas in yall's garden reminded me of... Was dating a girl once who I was really crazy about and I wanted to do everything "right". Well, her father was in the hospital so I thought it'd be a nice gesture if I sent him a get well card and some flowers. I didn't know her family very well yet, so I didn't know her father owned a funeral home in Philly. And I didn't know that gladiolas were a flower only sent when someone died. Yep, sent a dozen as I recall... Fortunately, he had a good sense of humor and I figured a few laughs at my expense as he told the story...over and over...was the least I owed the guy considering the 4-foot bouquet filling the corner of his room. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Wow. You've got a rock named serenity... gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I like that. And? I've got a puppy named Duncan. Hmmmm.... Tell me, does serenity chew on your couch? But I like that story too--y'know? I'd seen those rocks and wondered if anyone would think of me when they saw "serenity" stamped on it. But then? There's so many products named "serenity" now---there's an all-natural anti-depressant--a perfume--and? there are serenity pads for incontinence too. (I know, I know, at first I thought, "oh go ahead--piss on that too"--but truly I couldn't pass up the endorsement offer. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
You guys are making me cry with these stories I swear. I started naming all my little rocks now in case one they are famous or something. I can say I knew them when they were only pebbles. Duncan, I will take that sister, sight unseen and cherish her forever I swear, send her (but remember when sending to Canada mark it used or a gift, LOL) Hey K, did't want you to think I thought these stories were about getting any sympathy - I am just kinda jealous! You had "sisters" to play with, still do, and that lady is truly "love incorporated" to have memories like these that have more value than any amount of money. I absolutely love the garden btw. Got a garden story - can I steal a slot? Oh well gonna do it anyway. Mother's Day 1979, Todd is 14 and he gave me the most beautiful plant he got from a friend's house. This plant kept growing so darn big I quit with the Mirale Grow. I had to put it out on the balcony, and by August - that dang thing was as big as a small tree. Well one August summer evening, my then husband and I invited the police officer and his wife from the condo below us for cocktails and dinner. We went out onto the balcony and our guest spits his drink about a 5 feet, then tells me I better do a better job of hiding that thing. What thing says I? Turns out - yup - my son and his friend connived to given me a potted marijuana plant on that Mother's Day and when he showed up he thought the entire incident of my disasterous evening extremely funny. He did not think being grounded for two weeks was however. The plant? The cop took it and got rid of it somewhere, and I could not look them in the face for a long, long time as figured they thought I lied about getting it for Mother's Day. Loving these stories Karen, what's up next? [This message has been edited by Mysteria (12-19-2003 03:16 AM).] |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Karen?...ya KNOW I'm lovin' every one of these stories of yours...still snippin' and pastin'...smile Hmm...the fabulous Miss Vicky, huh?... yep...I could get used to that...grin Love the pics, lady, and I'm just glad I was able to help...smile And?...I'm in love with Bubba 'No Nuts' Johnson...lol He's just TOO adorable! Love you, my sis...  [This message has been edited by vlraynes (12-19-2003 08:22 AM).] |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
More than understood, Sharon. And guess what? We have a date. But ain't my little garden purty? I was thinking about that this weekend--how I'd spent alot of time, sitting cross-legged in front of those little gardens, lost in thought, or found in "no-thought"--just pulling the weeds and unearthing rock. This brings to mind another story--smile--of course. I did a lot of watching in those days. Both out of necessity and fascination. There was this gentleman I used to watch a lot--he appeared to be elderly and destitute--I would sit on the steps with my coffee and watch him scour the parking lot after a big night at the "O.K. Corrall", picking up beer cans and kicking at tufts of grass that teased with dew sparkles in the morning sun-- all that glitters is not gold. but his grocery cart was always full of found treasure. I'd say hello and he'd say hello back. That was the extent of our relationship. He wore old fashioned dockers, the kind of pants that were made for labor before they became the uniform of the viper room denizens. His skin had the elasticity of a prune, and white wool formed a crown around his head. He would nod and smile, and in the right light, his gold tooth would glint at me, before he'd continue on his way, bobbin' head style, somtimes talking to himself and sometimes singing. Once I had slept in my sister's bed and woke to hear the gravelly sound of "Amazing Grace" outside my window, and I believed it until the barking dogs chased him away. Damndogs. -- But back to the story, eh? I don't have a specific date to mark the day, but I do have a general idea. It was still winter of 1989, but as happens in Lousisana quite often we had a preview of Spring, and I woke feeling the unexpected warmth, and opened the windows between sips of coffee. Spring...and my gardens were bare. So I thought I'd spend the morning hours planting some impatiens bulbs inbetween my gladiolas. I drank my morning inspirational and set out to work. This wasn't the sort of gardening one watches people on television accomplish in half an hour. Even if I had a shovel, it wouldn't have done much good. There was only one way to beat that soil and that was rock-by-rock. So I sat cross-legged and inched my way down, not worried about efficiency, but just taking pleasure in the way the released soil crumbled in my fingers. I didn't notice the clouds forming, and the light dimmed so slow I took no mind, quite surprised to feel the drizzle misting on me as I sat there, running my fingers through the dirt, using them as a rake. I started to feel chilled but continued, sometimes frowning at the darker, more insistant clouds. I heard the squeak and pull of his cart before I saw him round the corner--he struggled mightily with that thing in the deeper trenches of the parking lot--and as I did, the sun tried to peek, but the clouds filtered--I saw the world through rose sepia. I remember smiling as I thought: Now this is what it's all about. I could smell the dirt, all fertile--ripe--and the moisture was a gentle misting, and I thought to myself, "This is breeding ground." He startled me with his "Hello." He stood there, with his grocery cart, squinting at me through the links of the fence, but smiling with that one gold tooth while I felt a bit annoyed to be interrupted when I only had a few more bulbs to plant. "Y'plantin' a garden, missus?" he asked. One eye looked blue from cataract, which I'd never noticed before. I'd never seen him that close up. I nodded, biting my tongue, and I started to answer the obvious, but he interrupted, nodding his approval: "The lawd loves a gawden y'know. He planted one hisself for us to live in--but mercy, " he laughed heartily, "folks know how to mess stuff up, don't they?" I said nothing, just staring at him in wonder. That eerie pink was bolder now, and the combination of the rain and the sun simultaneous left me with goosebumps on my bare arms. "M'mamma used to do her plantin' 'bout now, too. She'd plant t'maters so early she lost a few now and then, bit by dat early spring frost we tend ta git. But I know you know 'bout that." He smiled. "Oh yeah, we'd have pole beans and peppers, summer squash and mirlaton on the fence." He paused. "You gonna grow mirlaton this fence?" He managed to blush through the black of his cheeks, knowing his optimism showed. Then his body language sagged, signaling goodbye. "But yes ma'am. Da Lawd's gonna bless ya, miss. Cause y'doin' right and da Lawd loves a garden. You'll be pickin' fruit." He was nodding as he turned. I stared at the back of him as he wrestled the cart through the gravel, returning to the street. "Remember what I said..." he'd turned to wave, and his gold tooth glinted in another ray of sun. I stopped what I was doing then and with my muddy fingers, I traced circles on my tummy. I was tingling. What I knew, and had been denying for weeks had just been confirmed by a street corner prophet: I was pregnant and life was good. Everything was gonna be alright. [This message has been edited by serenity blaze (12-21-2003 09:24 PM).] |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas |
That was a pure delight to read and granted little prickles on my neck. One thing struck me though...the voice of my dad, still upon this earth, when he and mom were talking about us lil hellions. 'You know, we work hard to teach them to talk, and that is a joy. But getting them to shut up now and then is a chore. Thankfully, there's sleep.' That one still makes me chuckle. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Smiling here...gawd, how I love your stories... and this one?...one of my favorites...smile Love you, sis... And now?...I go try to sleep...again... 'night...er...morning...smile |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
What strikes me first is that you could actually drink coffee in the morning when you were pregnant!!! I was always too busy puking my guts out at the first smell... Second, I have come to the conclusion that you not only have some beautiful connection to a higher power, but also are open to and therefore able to recongnize, when that same higher power sends a message. I would love to ask you to teach me...but in my heart know it can't be taught... I love you and can't wait for the next one. "if you won't let me fall for you |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
You're somethin' else Karen....I luv ya! Wish we lived closer and could swap stories. When my daughter and I were on our own with not even a bank account....I drove a car without reverse for over two years! It was a challenge finding the right spot to park! But, at least we had wheels till it made strange coughing sounds one evening...then kinda went tick...tick...tick.......and died.I have no idea why I just thought of that. You bring out memories from your readers which make us think...Hmmm...ya know..it could have been worse. Hugs! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Strange things seem to happen to me... shaking my head-- I just try not to think too hard about 'em. I just wanna enjoy the show. I want to thank you all for reading and expressing your enjoyment of this madness. (I'm still working up to the SWAT team story, but some of the players need a bit of foreshadow, so thanks for staying with me while I set the tone.) Susan, (and everybody) feel free to jump right in whenever the urge is there. Chris? A car with no reverse, eh? Yep. You'd fit right in. I once spent two hours searching for a parking lot in the city with a friend who had the same problem--I didn't even bother to question this for forty minutes as she couldn't parallel park anyhow. And vicky? I may ask you to indulge me in another favor, if I ever find those pics of Dennis Hopper and Adrienne Barbieu. (That's a deliberate teaser, folks. )But yes, good poet people, I have searched valiantly for a picture of the forty foot cowboy, to no avail. Last week it occurred to me that a movie was filmed at that bar, and there is a brief shot of the cowboy in one of the scenes. (The movie was "Double-crossed" starring Dennis Hopper and Adrienne Barbieu--go rent it tonight and you can be further bored. )The production company had no problem getting permission to film there, as the bar was owned by the sometimes infamous Sheriff of Jefferson Parish, a chinese cowboy named "Harry Lee." http://www.asianweek.com/010898/newsmaker.html (Just a little something to tide ya'll for now. snip snip paste paste But in the meantime, keep those comments coming folks--you all inspire me more than you know, not just with your witty replies, but also with your patience and kindness. Happy Solstice. Love you all. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
speaking of Solstice.... I was born on June 23rd....a cancer. It's my connection I tell you...close enough to make me feel like something is different, yet not fully aware...*sigh* always a bridesmaid... "if you won't let me fall for you |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Hey, Karen...I'd be happy to help you with some more pics...any time... Can't wait to see them... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
You surely do tell the best bedtime stories Joyeux Noël Mon Cajun Le Cher, Serenity |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
bumping this because? Mysteria promised us a story! gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (c'mon loocey, y'got some splainin' t'do...) |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
That was a wonderful story, serenity. You bring life to characters just as they brought life to you. You made me think of one I would share with you - but it would just show my klutzy side. I especially loved the fact that everything appeared in rose sepia. You set the stage well...or is it, you just shared His stage? Yea, I know. |
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silhouetted Senior Member
since 2004-01-30
Posts 537New Zealand |
LITTLE MISSYT DARKNESS_WITCH!!! HOW DARE YOU USE MY POEM WIPE MY EYES AND CLAIM IT AS YOURS! yer yer i no its good and all but u dnt have to have it! lol jokes HEHE it thought it was funny wen i saw it In the bible on angels have wings, and the rest must wait to be saved - Jewel |
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darkness_witch Senior Member
since 2003-12-03
Posts 516Underneath |
LOR I WASNT CLAMING IT AS MINE1!!!! LMAO LMAO I WOULD NEVA DO THAT!!! WE WERE TELLING STORYS N I TOLD ONE! GEEEEZ DONT JUMP TO ANY CONCULSIONS DAHHHHLING You can always hear a tear in Cobain's voice, the pain going on there is always visible through his lyrics - Marilon Manson |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Wow. This is a bit confusing. "Wipe my Eyes" is a very cool poem, but I am a bit puzzled as to the authorship. I first noticed here--and I was confused then as it didn't seem to follow the conversation, but that was okay by me, I have trouble following the bouncing ball m'self at times. But let's see, darkness_witch didn't write it, but "silouhetted" did. How odd, as I recall the second time I noticed this as a first post by "serenities_blood" in Open 31: /pip/Forum83/HTML/000860.html I am no longer concerning myself with moderator duty, but it seems to me, presenting someone's work as your own (even as a "joke") is plagiarism. If you're all the same person, that's fine with me too. I grew up in a carnival town and I'm quite accustomed to masquerades. I'd just like to know whom to congratulate. |
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darkness_witch Senior Member
since 2003-12-03
Posts 516Underneath |
hahaha! serenities_blood IS silhouetted! thats the thing!!! hahaha! i didnt wqrite it. i was just posting a reply to talk about it cus serenities_blood/silhouetted and i are great frends and nearly no1 had rplied and i wnated people to see how amazing she can write. if that makes sense! sorry for the confusement!!! catch yas on the flipside darknessss You can always hear a tear in Cobain's voice, the pain going on there is always visible through his lyrics - Marilon Manson |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Thanks for clearing that up. As you can imagine, the name serenities_blood did catch my attention--I thought perhaps it was my sister. (one is a silent member here already--"twist") but I do have another. Ya'll had me scratchin' my head for a bit. But then? I was born confused. and your stories are welcome anytime. |
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darkness_witch Senior Member
since 2003-12-03
Posts 516Underneath |
haha! i think we were all born confused!!! at times i look around and think, is there anything here i can relate to or recognise.... i think thats the real definition of confused1!!!  well cus im in New Zealand it is feb 29 11:15 am and cyclone ivy has hit. isnt that great! not sure if anyone would wnat to read this, but thought I may as well post it. it isnt very good but serenty said my storys are always welcome. When he died I felt empty, alone and betrayed. But now I know his death was what he needed. I was first so shocked that my best friend had died, I wouldn’t admit it to myslef, just simply pretended he wasn’t around as much. I now have finally come to terms that James is dead, he left me when I needed him most. But life is like that, when you need something the most it is suddenly unavailible. Then when everyone strated to detatch themsleves to me and let me be, I became unsocial and stayed to my room and to the bottle. A bottle of vodka or whatever I could get my hands on. I am ashamed of that, but it happens. I felt that my mind would rest when I was durnk, but it never did. It bottled itself up inside of me and never released itself. But it can now be realeased. I have found my sanctuary, my place to go when life is to hard and too rough: my island in the sky, this book. In all the darkness a white light shone: the white pages in this book. Ready to be filled with my pain, my hurt and my love. My love for James. When I began this I ripped out every page I wrote in a fit of tears. I couldn’t believe I was making a book out of James’s death. And my pain. But now I can sit up here in my attic and write. And it actually feels good. I still cry at night, but not because of my anger, like it used to. Now I cry because I miss him, I miss the person I relied on, I miss the poerson I trusted and I miss the person who left me standing, alone and in the dark. James and I used to do everything together when we were younger. But since we became older we would need our space. That space grew wider and wider until it wasnt a space anymore, it was worlds. When I first started to see Isaac he warned me and I didn’t listen to him. I never could believe my best friend wasn’t happy for me when me and Isaac became a couple. The pain started then, the pain I felt and the pain James couldnt beat. The picture that the laid on his coffin of James was of him the way he used to be, obviously put there to remind people of the young boy he used to be. The way I remember him, is of him in his worst days. When he was at his worst he had bags under his eyes, dark, purple, heavy, bags. They would way doiwn his face, stretching his skin. God blessed him with amazing, sharp, vivid, blue eyes, but as his days became harder and longer they turned foggy and faded, as if constantly looking through the crowd towards the exit. His hair used to be a healthy blonde that reflected the sun’s rays, but turned into a used-looking faded blonde, and lost all of its beautiful, energetic bounces. The photo on his coffin was how I like to remember him, the boy with a friendly smile, vibrant eyes and flowing, curly hair. When I think of how he was whne he died I feel a knot form in my stomach, a despearte churning knot that tightens and tightnes until I feel etars spring oin thbe bacxk of my eyes. When I first learnt of this feeling I would clench my fists and leave it there, feeling it burn out like a fire, but leave the remaing embers and smoke, rising and building, filling me to my utmost limit. sry bot spelling errors. plz excuse them! anyway tell me wat ya think. darkness btw not based on personal experience, so dont do the whole pity thing on me! its all fictional!!! You can always hear a tear in Cobain's voice, the pain going on there is always visible through his lyrics - Marilon Manson |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Thanks lady. Although you say this isn't from personal experience, the pain is so evident that it is real enough for me. Too real, perhaps. I'm not sure if you are looking for me to critque your prose, 'cause if you are, I'll not do it here. (If that's what you'd like, I might suggest a bit of a clean up for mispellings and sentence structure and re-post in the Prose forum.) And your stories are always welcome here--I tend to "play" off other people--they remind me-- and as this is a journal, my stories are personal. You just reminded me that I have a lot to say about and "to" Death. I'm just not sure if I'm ready yet. I may be back tho. Thanks for sharing with me. And one last thing, I've learned here that it is entirely possible for people to care without pity. (Pity just ticks me off too.) so...hugs. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
The first dead body I'd ever truly seen was the body of my father. I had, of course, seen many friends and loved ones "in state", but never had I witnessed death in open eyes like that, vacant and staring, frozen forever in what looked like wonder to me. He was gone. Gone--that is such a hard-hitting reality. I understood in a split second that "hell" is absence. Absence of light--the absence of love... a sound came from deep inside of me, guttural and sharp, like an animal under attack, and I remember saying "Oh Dad..." as I went to him to kiss his forehead for the last time. Not sure of my intent, my uncle had tried to stop me, but the look in my eyes seemed to shove him back, and he let me go, nodding weakly, then looking down embarrassed to witness such an intensely personal moment. I had no urge to shut my father's eyes. I wanted them to go on forever. I saw the blood dried around his mouth and wept fully then, worried about the pain he may have felt. A thought crossed my mind then that has been plaguing me with guilt ever since--I was glad. Glad it was over for him, glad he'd finally escaped the prison of pain his body had become. To this day, I try to justify that thought--I tell myself that it may well have been the most unselfish thought I'd ever had--but there is a child in me that wants her Daddy, and she is still furious with the adult "me" that could look at the body of her beloved Dad and think "Good." The shame of that is so deeply ingrained, that this is the first time I confided that thought to anyone at all. My father didn't want to leave. He told me once, after one of his many stays in the hospital, that "Life is good." He'd said it with conviction, too. The impact of him, standing there, voicing that, with his oxygen tank three feet away, gave me some sort of stubborn strength. There is something in me that just won't "give". He was diagnosed with lung cancer shortly after my parents celebrated their Golden Wedding anniversary. At that time, he was still a strong and robust man, with a big ole pot belly that I loved to smack playfully. I used to tell him that he had "great tones" there, and he would giggle--yes my father giggled--while I played "conga" on his stomach and sang "Babalou..." Smile. My father delighted in me. I could tell. His blue eyes lit up so fiercely happy that I could feel the warmth of them on me as I would walk in the front door. Part of my grief is the knowledge that no man is ever going to look at me like that again. My joy is that I had one man who did. I'm a daddy's girl and I rejoiced in being that. I really wasn't prepared for the anger that followed when he died. |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Have missed you and these... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
 I understand completely kiddo. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
It's strange, so strange, the things you feel you have to do when there is a death in the family. Shopping for clothes, for instance. We're not the sort of family who keeps shoes and suits on hand for kids who grow two inches overnight. So I went shopping. And every step was heavy, and I felt like I was further betraying my father with every step and every breath I took. Shock. It's a sympathetic biological response, but I didn't and couldn't recognize that this feeling of disassociation--being underwater and detached--was a coping mechanism. "How can I be shopping?" Then the mixed emotions, seeing my son in a suit, looking manly, and my daughter prim and perfect in her veddy proper attire. I buried the burst of pride I felt with a shovelful of shame--it seemed so disrespectful. and then there was this-- I thought of the burial of my beloved Dog as we shopped; (and yes, I felt more guilt for the comparison) My dog Bubba, was an adored dog. I won't say that he was "like a child" to me--because I don't dare tempt the gods of tempered understanding by being so offhand with such an analogy. I have become more cautious with what I "throw out there". Still though, I recalled the morning that Bubba died, and how I was glued to my chair, unable to comfort him. I'm still not sure if he would have known I was there, but I witnessed his death. That was the first and only leaving of spirit that I can say I was "there" for--and yet, I wasn't there. Bubba made that deathknell sound--the one I'd only heard about--it was loud and startling, but I knew what it was somehow. Me, being me, I later looked up medical reasons for that sound, and the tomes all theorized about gases and intestines and involuntary expulsions, and I still think, that when you hear that sound, the dying is struggling to stay--nod, involuntary expulsion )they know the grief that will be forthcoming, and that bizarre sound (which I can only describe as an amplified bathtub fart) is the sound of the soul gripping the walls of the physical--trying to stay while being expulsed. My husband had to work that day. I woke him and said, "Bubba died. Help me move him from the kitchen before the kids wake up." So we placed his stiffening body on a blanket and carried him that way to a table outside--he was a big dog, and heavy. He'd require a big hole and we knew it. My husband told me to wait and he would come home as soon as he could to help me. So he left, and I covered Bubba with the blanket. But I couldn't rest with him lying there that way. I didn't even own a proper shovel, but I had a hand-shovel I used to do my "potted plant" gardening. So I walked the backyard, searching for a spot that I could handle. I found it next to the shed, where the previous owners had made a "wormbed"--bait, for fishing in the pond out back. The ground gave easily, and I sat there, a cigarette dangling from lips, shoveling handfuls of earth at a time, to a mound beside me as I sat in the May sun, cross-legged and intent. I had a beautiful garden then--and I was accustomed to the digging. Bubba used to lie beside me, watching intently, every shovelful. That dog loved worms. When I would unearth one, all twisty and alive, he would bark gleefully, and look at me, like, "well wouldja look at that?" Wagging his tail and doing that happy dog dance. As I dug Bubba's grave, I found myself absentmindedly stopping and patting the growing mound of dirt next to me, warmed by the sun. I cried only with the realization that it felt like Bubba, alive and warm, faithful and curious, still somehow next to me. It took me four hours, but I dug Bubba's grave with a handshovel. This is what I thought about as I shopped for funeral clothes for me and my family. I wondered, too, if we, as a society, had lost something that was a healing when we began to pay others to tend to our dead for us. And yes, I worried, worried, worried that something inevitable had finally begun--and I wondered if it showed on my face as I shopped. (It had.) The day after my father died I went shopping. That felt strange then and it feels strange now. And still, even then, I didn't apprehend the inner explosion what was about to occur in me, and I didn't comprehend how deep it can go. But the fact that I can only discuss bits at a time is an indication. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
So we did the thing we do. We made the plans for the wake and funeral--we ordered doughnut "holes" and coffee. My mother had the pain of picking out his suit--something my father would have objected to--my mother is and always has been color blind. They chose a casket from the middle of the menu--he would have balked at an "El Dorado" but we couldn't, just couldn't give him that plain pine box he said was his desire. We wanted his head cushioned, and the insurance was there, and so we did, choose a discreet cautionary casket, draped with the flag of his loyalty to the country he served. I remembered while they argued this--he was a Legionaire--with the distinction of paying dues and never once attending a meeting. My dad was proud, but humble. He actually considered it an honor to serve his country. My uncle knew this well, and made sure that "taps" played at the closing of my father's tomb. (I took a picture in my mind--there was no band and no 21 gun salute--the navy supplied a tape of "taps"--and my uncle was proudly rigid, saluting my father as that dirge played.) My son stood tall in his new suit, and I whispered "help our son" to his father, watching the tears stream proudly, sadly, down my son's face. My daughter dug her discreetly painted pink nails into my palm--she held my hand so tight she drew blood. It was overcast that day, and the mist began as I watched the box that held my father slide into that opening--and once again I made that sound. That involuntary sound of pain had escaped my lips again, and I slammed my fingers across my mouth--determined that I wouldn't cry. I was afraid that once I'd started, I couldn't stop. He had told me once, before he died, that he wouldn't like such an emotional exhibit at his funeral--so I quaffed myself, for the sake of his dignity. That's what I told myself, anyway. That sounds harsh, but my father knew me well. He knew, he knew, how easily I could "lose" it. He knew, too, how hard it would be for me to get "it" back. So I was a good girl, and held it in--I whimpered only at the "closings"--when the coroner's office placed my Dad in a bodybag--when the casket was closed at his "wake"--and finally, when his tomb was sealed. I am not good at endings. * * * We rode home, through the now steady curtain of graydrizzle rain, and once there, we changed our clothes and breathed again. I didn't look at anyone much then--I was angry--furious and I didn't know it. But my kids changed into shorts and tees, and went out to play basketball in the front drive--and I collapsed upon the couch, rubbing my head that way that I do, until I heard them hollering and I jumped: "Mom--Mom--please come see!" I ran, alerted for the worst--I thought my family cursed by then. I stepped outside and my children pointed to the sky. There was a rainbow there in the sunny mist--wide across the sky, it had four bands of promise--and they told me it was "him". And I was so blind in my grief that day, that I discounted that, but the truth is undenied--the day that I buried my father, a rainbow covenant arched the sky... Thank you, Dad, for miracles. Thank you for belief. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
thank you Karen for sharing this...I needed it today. hugs M |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Karen?... Love you, lady... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
...and when it seems that we can no longer go on....go on without the love of the one's who have parented us.... we do |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
ain't that amazing? thanks for reading. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
*nodding and whispering 'yes'* Love ya lady~ |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I have played catch up...and you brought several poignant memories back to me of both the human and the animal moments...and I will share them with you someday. I promise. But for now? Just know, I know, and can't count the number of times my head bobbed up and down, in signature of moment. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Sometimes the best way to change the subject is just to say, "Let's change the subject." It's my journal, dammit and that's exactly what I'm doing here. Besides, I owe a lady a story, and she wanted it posted here, so if this seems confusing and out of sequence, I refer you all to the "collage" reference which appeared earlier in this thread and I am now too lazy to look for-- this one is for you, Kari. I've had many incarnations, just in this one life alone. I'm an "all-or-nothing" sorta gal; and I'm more than a little moody too. So naturally, I'm prone to hop from extreme to extreme--it's a bit like playing chinese jumprope on a razorblade. But anyhoo... "Once upon a time" I was a student, majoring in English Education at the University of New Orleans. I also simultaneously worked with a local rock band--in whatever capacity seemed necessary at the time. (Kinda like PR work with a twist, yanno?) Yeah. You know. It was during this time that I became addicted to a drug known as "angeldust", or PCP. (Leading a doublelife takes some kind of chemical fortification--and I would describe that to you all, but it is another story. Besides, my descriptions of the high would be glorification, or, at the very least, a glamour--and I prefer not to make Hell look like Christmas.) Simple facts should speak louder than any sensual description of hedonism here--my grade point average dropped from 3.9 to 1.5. ("What???") In a desperate attempt to salvage the numbers, I tried to drop Ancient Civ 102. I went to the office, even before the required date, filled out the paperwork, and then a very strange thing happened to me--I forgot how to sign my name. I'd filled out the paper, and all that was left to do was add my signature, and I simply couldn't do it. NO--there was no moment of conscience, no inner steely strength of soul--I had simply forgotten how to sign my name. (This is the first time that I can recall an attack of what I now term "the fog.") It's like the chaos that occurs in an hourglass, not yet done with the hour, suddenly flipped over. One moment, all is well--sand flowing smoothly, and the next is a mad scramble of sand grains (thoughts) trying to compact in a perfection again. Gravity demands a re-arrangement and dust can fly. I couldn't even remember how to begin to form the letter "K", much less sign my name. A nervous line of beady sweat appeared over my upper lip--I felt surreal and so displaced. I looked up, and the previously bored eyes of the attending clerk had turned to curiosity, so I took that as my cue: "I think I'm going to be sick." I fled the office, and burst into a full body sweat, almost giggling with relief outside the building. * * * I'd gone too "high" for higher education. Shortly thereafter, I transferred to a toney uptown business school--Soule' Business College, located in the lovely Garden District of uptown New Orleans. (shaking my head) It was a veritable mansion--located just a block off St. Charles on Jackson Avenue. The minute I saw it I deemed it: "Last Stop for Unwed Debutantes" so? 'McMurphy' checked into the cuckoo's nest. * * * (and there ya go, slavedrivin' woman Karilea!) chuckle a prologue to a prologue.... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Having been Peggy Sue's twin most of my life, only having witnessed very good friends and relatives veer into worlds I, for fear of falling into an abyss I would not creep out of, can only nod my head now in knowing how you have survived...and live to tell the stories.I have long held if the stories are not given to us in one form or another, then those that come behind us are doomed to make errors with their lives that could have been prevented; those who know the stories and choose this road or that are then even more responsible for their choices... and while we all have imaginations? Until we see the edges of either extreme, our imaginations are not truly enhanced, and most will imagine only what is right in front of them, and still not know how to handle it, and everything becomes known by accident. I applaud you, again, for all you have gone through, for coming through the fire, and for the courage to share it. [This message has been edited by Sunshine (03-05-2004 09:03 AM).] |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
It takes courage to admit to some things, and strength of heart to carry on. You have both Karen and then some. Love ya kiddo!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
nah... It just happens to be the reason why I ended up at business college. It was actually therapeutic for me--yanno?fff jjj ddd lll fjf fjf.... I'll see if I can get the rest of the story up here soon. That one is relatively drug free. thanks all |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Serenity's Interactive Journal....means others can join in, yes? I didn't "come of age" until my junior year in high school, so to speak. My mother had me pretty well under her thumb until the summer before my junior year, and I think, as I look back, that my grandmother really had it in mind to do the godmother/fairy thing and transform me. Hee Hee...she did a good job... She removed the saddle shoes, the insecurity, the shabby clothes with some patent leather slipons, a sharp haircut [that now reminds me of a Streisand movie] and the cutest forest-green T-skirt and all that was missing was the white boots. She bought a pair of "look-like" pierced earrings, very slender and elegant, and took me to pick up my aunt at her place of work...when I went in, my aunt looked up, said "one moment, please," looked down, then looked back up. She didn't know me, either. A light bit of eyeshadow, a little lipstick, a brush of blush...a new girl. We went to The Brown Derby for lunch. I only remember two things...because if I were to fall back into that time, I would remember a whole lot more, and it was too much then for the shy kid who melted into wallpaper.... Milton Berle came by and shook hands with my grandmother, and aunt, and said "hello" to me...and my aunt put one of the Brown Derby menus into her [huge] purse. But I saw a waiter go by and smile as he saw her move...apparently it was not anything out of place back then. I have that menu today. I still laugh...One Hour free parking with $1.00 purchase. Coffee, $.20; All beverages, with the exception of hot chocolate, was twenty cents. Hot Chocolate...$.30. Derby Burger...80 cents; The Derby Club hit the high of $1.60; Chef Salad bowl..$1.65 [and it was HUGE]...Most expensive Special? Fan-Tail Jumbo Shrimp...$2.25... the year? 1967. Oh, I forgot to mention...Derby Breakfast, Top Sirloin Steak and two eggs w/hash browns, toast and jelly...$3.15. A few poems ago, I said I saw something going all wrong... Yep, I still think I'm right....something's gone wrong...and we need to take a step back, and look at where we're really taking ourselves. Progress is a wonderful thing, but I remember the service, and the attitudes, and the guy out on the street right outside the restaurant...looking for a handout.... Yes, Ma'am, some things have changed...and a lot has stayed the same. I gave the guy a quarter. And back then...I charged $.35/hour to babysit. Girls my age were charging $.50 to $1.00...but I had 3x the jobs..... Good gosh...I'm old. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Thank you, thank you, thank you, lady. This is what I had hoped for in starting this journal--all of our stories are signifigant. Isolated, they seem self-indulgent, but it is when we can "spark" of one another that the greatest illuminations are acheived. (Wasn't that the noblest self-justification you've ever heard?) grin (prolly not) Heh. but anyhoo... I'll play. (Forgive me now if I delay my arrival at Soule'--I think I need time to get in touch with my character anyhow.) But in the spirit of the interactive journal, I'll bounce the ball that you bounced back--there's phrasings you used, that touched my memory, and these I thought I'd share: "look-like" pierced earrings" I just love those things. Others are not so amused. For those who don't know, there are two kinds of those false piercings that I know of--one is the "ball-and-magnet" type, the other a simple spring clip. I once put one of those magnetized "doo-dads" up my nose--silver ball, magnificent, (or so I thought) in the cleft above my right nostril--the magnet carefully inside of my nose. I wanted to greet my father that way. And that is exactly how I walked in the front door, er--'cept I was breathing carefully. (I wasn't counting on the "laugh" factor.) I walked in the front door (like I owned the place) and there he was, behind his bar (read office) beaming welcome, as he always did. It must have been a play of light, because normally, it would have taken awhile for him to notice, but I saw him see the "piercing", and the distress on his face caught me off guard. It made me forget to "breathe easy". I gasped. I wheezed. I feared inhale. My eyes teared up, just from the twitching, as I protested, "it's not real" and I proceeded to sneeze my joke away. (except for the magnet tile within my nose...) My dad looked disapproving as he broke out the vaccuum cleaner. "Not funny" is all he'd say about it. * * * When it comes to matters of piercings and such, I've a brother who proved to be a bit more demonstrative regarding his preferences. I was blessed with two brothers--as different as day and night. The one that I refer to now, we deemed "The White Sheep of The Family." He was and is loyal, upright, and fine, and I say that with all due admiration--but some of his ways leave me with more than a little bit of confusion. He insisted upon family values (until his divorce) so his loved ones would gather 'round a huge family table every Sunday. Sometimes I was even invited. I didn't attend very often. But I heard later, that it was just such a gathering that my nephew was prompted to pull a similar prank to my own, using one of those spring-clip falsities. He'd placed it on his ear and proceeded to pass the potatoes. My former sister-in-law prompted the following non-event, by complimenting her son on his new hoop earring. My brother's response was silent--he simply pulled the ring off of the boy's ear. * * * Later, I asked my brother, "How did you know it was a joke?" His answer? "I didn't." |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
OUCH! LOL... When I returned home after my little vacation with my grandmother, who bid her little "cinderella" goodbye at the bus station...I arrived home quite late, and no one was at the bus station to meet me. I had a very eerie feeling [I'm only 16, remember?] that Mom already knew of the transformation, and decided to start her "punishment". Actually, a huge job had come in that Sunday [we owned a letter shop, and it was established at home, more on that later] and I was simply "forgotten". I had a very long wait after the pay phone accepted my dime and I got ahold of my brother who didn't tell my mother or dad right away that I was there. He took another 'personal call' [he was rather "all about himself" during that time] so it was a long 45 minutes before he remembered to tell dad, who came to pick up his eldest daughter. By the time I got home it was past 10, and I really, really had allowed the "devil" to talk to me and tell me that my mother was going to raise wholly, well, not be happy. That was putting it mildly."What happened to YOU?" I started to say, "Grandmother..." and she cut me off. "Get to bed. I'll talk to you in the morning!" She hadn't even seen the look-like-pierced earrings yet. She was wondering where my hair had gone. I was not the child she sent to visit. And the new bra grandmother had purchased for me certainly didn't return a child. It dawned on me, grandmother was going to hear about it too. As it turned out, Mom didn't talk to either of us for about three months, other than the cursory conversation needed to keep the home fires banked. That was the first time I was on her "list". Grandmother just laughed, and sent money so I could continue to get haircuts, to keep the short look. As it turned out, it was about that time that I learned to trim my own hair, and to this day, I still cut my hair. From adversity, lessons? LOL... |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
first of all Karilea, are you sure we didn't grow up in the same family...although I have never been to the Brown Derby nor California...those fake pierced earrings made me smile..I think I still have mine.and Karen, I do agree it takes a lot of courage to speak out about one's past. Hey and Karilea..I was one who got 50 cents an hour but was plenty busy..and that is also what we got paid as a "minimum wage" if there was such a thing back then. M |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
So, Maureen...I think you need to tell the story... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
yes... we pass the baton. please? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
While we're waiting for Maureen? Note that I had plurals--and it wasn't just two earrings that sparked my heart: "Milton Berle came by and shook hands with my grandmother, and aunt, and said "hello" to me..." Now this? It reminded me of one of those stories one marries into. I'm speaking specifically, of "Maw Maw Blaise". I loved her dearly, she was all of five feet and perhaps an inch, and the only backbone of an Irish fighting family--she could command troops with the lift of one mere eyebrow--and she ruled with an iron dustpan. The Power of the Broom--I think of her that way, because in the fable of family history, she gave birth to all of her children at home--and swept the floor of her kitchen while in labor, waiting for the doctor to arrive. I used to hold her tired and wrinkled hand, and I promise you, I wondered at the strength of it. She smelled of talcum and someone's forgotten beer. (We weren't supposed to give her any, but hey? She'd paid her dues, so much more than I, and if I forgot a beer on the counter that she so fastidiously wiped-so what? I looked the other way.) She liked me. Entering that family was a long dive into a deep well--but that woman made me feel at home--we'd exchange whispers over spoons and pots, discussing roux and rhythms, and how it helped to tap a foot while cooking. So it was with much amazement that I'd heard the following story, for I'd already fitted Maw Maw with a halo--pre-fabbed to fit my own design: The entire family had gone to Vegas. Maw Maw was the Queen of Slot Machines-- Zip. Pull. Flutter. Shtiff. She was losing lotsa milk money there. So the family all took turns--heads together, they'd decided, they'd keep her busy at the shows. The crowning glory show of which was supposedly, "Sammy Davis Jr." He was her Vegas "Mecca." My father-in-law would tell this story, the same way everytime, always amazed at the same points--in retrospect, I should have noticed. In retrospect--I should have ran. He told about the center table, how they all held court. Money was no object, everything was "comp". Uncle Bob had 'hit' that night--and passed the tickets on to them just so he could press his luck. Women (much too beautiful) waited on them, bringing bottles of champagne, and Maw Maw sat there, liking that, clapping, in that sweet way that she had. Sammy Davis Jr!!! Triple spot-lights circling, and there was a path before them, where he groovy-danced his way, to her and sang--holding her poor tired hands. Naturally, they all were thrilled. Maw Maw was part of the show! Then the punchline always came: "Mama? Whatchya thinka dat?" Grumpy, (as she was to them) she shrugged them off and said: "A nigga came and shook my hand!" She didn't even know--"Sammy Dave" was black * * * I suppose I should have run, hard and fast away from them. But I never did think less of her, she spoke as she was taught. But after I had listened to the story told five hundred times--I'd walk outside to have a smoke--it bothered me to hear them laugh at the same old tired line. I forgave them more easily than I ever did myself. I knew better. They did not. (That's what I told myself.) So I smoke my cigarettes and leave an offering of beer...knowing Maw Maw didn't know, knowing that somehow she did. "Things confuse me too Maw Maw." I stamp my cigarette, and go back to the family. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
sorry for the delay...went back to bed. I always thought my family "normal" and boring but as I look back while aging, I don't believe anyone else would call it that. And being one of 5 children and the middle of the last group, I think I always felt forgotten except for getting all those hand me downs my whole life. (My father saved my mother from a bigamist...my sister has maybe 35 siblings *s. But I never experienced her life of rejection) I can only remember events when something spurs them. Otherwise I don't recall my childhood much and I don't know why. I was too much a "goody-goody" so I only got into trouble when my brothers would do something wrong and blame me...or would deny doing anything and we were all punished at once. And I regret being so " good" now..seems I missed out on a lot of fun "memories" from the 60's. I couldn't even be a "rah rah" girl so I joined the pep club...makes me laugh now. I never fit in or belonged anywhere ..instead was a bit of an "everywhere" friend of all...close with few. See, Karen, I never "tried" anything...and other than taking medicine now when necessary, still haven't. B O R I N G |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
smile. (I was a member of the PEP squad too.) In the 7th grade I was so fat, I fell down the bleachers and hit the floor of the gymnasium, and bounced. *chuckle* guess that ain't a bad thing, huh? love ya 'm'! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Maureen…you ain’t heard boring, yet… Now, serene one, you reminded me of two more stories, but I’ll go with the second one first. I’m backwards that way. The little town we moved to when I was 9, Santa Maria, was about 18,000 population. Centered in a lovely little agricultural valley, we had foggy ocean breezes come in from 15 miles away…and on a clear day, you could freeze from the moisture in the air, even when it was 50 degrees. [You know what that’s like, right?] A lot of Mexicans worked in the strawberry fields, and it was not uncommon to see quite the mix of kids in school, as we were also an airbase town, close to Vandenberg AFB. Mom and Dad found a “new” home on the south side of town, well, on the outskirts, really, a little suburb of ranch homes, and we were “on top” of the crowned street, on the east side. We kids thought it was a huge home, but we were still small. We girls shared a room, my only brother getting his own [highly unfair, but oh well…] We lived there about three years, and the house just to the north of us was a rental. We kids had never met the landlords, but figured they must only take in really nice folks, because there was never any problem that we knew about. So around 1964, the renters moved out, and the house was vacant for about two months. Then a black family moved in. Imagine my surprise…they had a girl my age! I was thrilled! And she would go to our school! Now we’re talking! Our house was pretty much open to our friends, but most of our immediate neighbors kept to themselves. I didn’t know then, as I learned later, that we were considered “poor” by some of them. I just thought they all had it a little better. But I didn’t know we were “poor”. Anyway, I tried to bring our newest neighbor girl into my little circle of girlfriends there on the block. Somehow the other three friends were always called away by their parents to come do some chores when the five of us would get together. So my new friend and I would spend some time alone, and later, I would spend time with the other three. Don’t get ahead of me here. Come to find out, this family owned the house. They had been the landlords to the previous renters, all white. [Anyone feel a small giggle coming on?] And about this time, about two months after they moved in, my mom was receiving “guests” [not friends] into the home, not so much to visit, but to ask “what are you going to do about them?” Mom was pretty game for anything, and offered to ask the new neighbors in for coffee, to join the klatche. That was not what the neighbor women wanted to hear. And they didn’t stay long after Mom made it pretty well known that she had no issues to take up with them, why, they were as quiet, if not quieter! than whom she was getting to know for the first time in over three years…. Not long after that, someone threw a rock into their garage window. Then we heard about them getting some harassing phone calls. Dad went next door and talked to the husband, and came back, shaking his head. I do remember him oiling his shotgun. And I knew it wasn’t deer season. A week later, the neighbors to the north of us moved out. About two weeks after that, the garage window was fixed. And some new, white renters, moved in. Two things…Mom and Dad never fought in front of us kids. Mom and Dad had a lot of night-time conversations in the garage. We were fairly well “protected” from a lot of talk… Sometimes, I think of that girl, and feel that she must have grown up, and is making changes in our world. That’s the thought I have. I don’t think I’m wrong. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Kari? One voice, ONE...makes a sound. TWO is harmony. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: Oh, those stories. Those are totally different stories… My first father-in-law was known by and large as “Blondie”. Seems he didn’t like his first name, Roland. His middle name, Archibald, well…that didn’t suit him either. He was a short, genial gnome of a guy, and a wonderful grandpa to his 12 grandchildren from three of his six kids. His newly married son who took me as a wife wouldn’t give him his 13th grandchild for a couple of years. As I recall, it was just before I was pregnant that I learned of his penchant for fried brains. Now, this “city” girl had moved from California to Illinois. Oh, I had lived “in the country” a couple of times, not nearly long enough, and so I really wasn’t a “big city” gal, nor a country gal, but our town was about the size [by the time I left] of the town my ex moved me to, and my first taste of real Midwestern life was not nearly like what I had experienced when my mom and dad had taken me to South Dakota, dad’s stomping grounds. No, this little town was a few miles south of Chicago, but had very distinct feelings about “outsiders”. Quite frankly? I never felt welcome, outside of the in-laws. And even though the family had lived there for a couple of decades, they were “outsiders” too, having moved in from other areas. I won’t name the town. It’s bad enough that I had to live there as long as I did. Anyway, back to Blondie. He was quite the character. We’d all be at the dinner table and some of us had enough on the first helpings of whatever great meal Mom had fixed. Some even went back for seconds. Blondie, however, he would keep eating until every bowl or plate was cleaned off. Literally. Mom would gripe about how he ate too much. I suggested once that I’d bet he would quit eating if she removed the plates and bowls. She looked at me as if I were crazy. But she tried it. And he never noticed. He even lost weight after that! Back to the fried brains. Now, I knew where this delicacy came from, and the best of them came from a good old pig. Blondie always said cows thought to much while they chewed their cud, so their brains were a bit more tough. He liked his brains fried, as I mentioned above, and it always resembled a pinkish sort of scrambled eggs that had been breaded before frying. My first thought was, “I don’t know….” and then the encouragement would begin, so I tried. With enough salt and pepper, anything is palatable… But it was after I was pregnant that I could actually handle the brains and prepare them, so Blondie made sure that every Sunday morning, we were invited to breakfast, so I could help Mom and take over the fried brains department. He thought he was being kind and said I had a good handle on just when to turn them. What he didn’t realize, was, that hurt Mom’s feelings. But he never noticed, and just kept on eating those fried brains. It was before the baby was born that Mom and Dad moved to Florida for their health. They promised to come back up after their 13th grandchild was born. And they did, when she was six months old. It was June, and I hadn’t fixed brains since they had moved away. We lived in their house, as a rental, so I went and made sure we had enough pints of brains for when they arrived the coming weekend. As I handled them in the supermarket, I felt a bit squeamish. And when they arrived, and Mom and I started breakfast that Sunday, I learned I couldn’t handle the fixing of brains. Strange that I could before I had the baby, but not now. Maybe that was a good thing, as Mom took over, and fixed them for Dad, and handled them “just so”, and he was quite happy. Which was a good thing, because two days later, he died. It was quick and the family all flocked in even faster. Brothers and sisters and cousins and grandchildren filled the small house, and I found it very strange that my ex and I were supposed to feed and house them all with no help, pocket-book wise. Arrangements were made even quicker, as I remember, and there would be two funeral services. One there, where they had lived for a couple of decades, and then the funeral service in Florida, where they had started their “new” lives. As quickly as the house had filled up, after the service, it was quietly empty. All of the brothers, sisters, and assorted family members left for Florida. I was left behind with the baby, and a house full of fragrant funeral flowers, as Mom asked that I keep them alive as long as possible. When I went to the refrigerator later that night, in it was one left-over pint of pig brains that no one had bothered to prepare. For some reason, I couldn’t seem to pitch them out. So, I held my queasy thoughts steady, fixed them, and ate dinner in his honor, with thoughts about the number 13, and Dad’s joy in welcoming at least one more grandchild into his life. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"Never underestimate the ability of fried brains." So sayeth serenity. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
that story fried my brains....yukkkkkkkk nope couldn't get me to eat nor fix them..bad enough I ate tongue until I saw what it looked like before sliced....all those little taste buds sticking up on the edges...*shivering here* M |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
What do brains taste like?  I would love to get in on sharing stories....but my own brains feel a little like they have been marinated in whatever brains are marinated in.....if they are marinated...yeeesh! But you all go on. I am enjoying this. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Chris? When you're up to it, please join in. Nancy too. You two just crack me up! and I believe I'll try to turn in early tonight... I believe I'll try--sigh, not sure about sleep. and Kari? Thanks so much for keeping company with this--someday I'll tell you why that was important to me the past week. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
If I can recall, brains tasted, to me, like a very light fluffy oyster, scrambled. The trick was to keep the outside from getting too dark, and making sure the inside got "done". It was REALLY good if you put small bits on buttered toast points... Hmmm. Maybe I have this queasy thing in control May BE I will be looking in the stores tomorrow... And Ser? If it helped? Good. If there's a story behind it? GREAT! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Okay I have stuck with you all the way in this wonderfully fascinating journal thus far, but if you keep up this talk about eating brains, you have to find an icon to warn me okay? Yuck! Actually, make that a double yuck! I think this one might just do the job quite nicely. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
No more about brains, fried or otherwise! Re-reading through the thread, beginning on page one, and your loss of draweses…reminded me of my one vacation in N’Awlins…that, and I happened to watch Runaway Jury yesterday, but it got me to thinking on how much of your area I missed, and of whom I missed [even though I didn’t know you all that well that long ago…I’ve something to look forward to on a return trip…] I came to New Orlean’s on Christmas Eve of 1999. I’d only been at Pip for six months, but it was already engrained in me, and I was now looking at people, places, things, with a totally new outlook. I knew I always looked through rose-colored glasses, ergo, felt I had a poetic soul, but now I felt like I had an audience, and wanted to capture things to write of. I didn’t know you were in this fair city, so I didn’t know to look you up. And I was only there for four days, and I imagine four days with you also certainly wouldn’t be enough time [as I think on it now]. It was when we first landed that I wondered if we would find a place to eat, because it dawned on me, most places DO close up for Christmas Eve. [Oh by the way, Serene One, I had a rocker just like yours…and I miss it.] Anyway…New Orleans is [or seemed to be] very quiet on Christmas Eve. I know, because we walked up and down a few streets in search of a restaurant, and there were very few people walking. I don’t remember the name, because I didn’t have my note pad with me, but it was a little restaurant in the French Quarter, tucked away quaintly behind what seemed to be a protective wall. We had a choice of eating inside or outside, and dumb us, we almost did not choose outside. Lucky us, we did. I had never seen “outdoor” heaters… And Christmas Day…well now. There was a treat. Again, we trotted around the French Quarter and I was surprised at the number of shops open on that day. No real destiny in mind, we rambled in and out of shops and cafes, and I remember that the days were “just right” and the nights were…packed. I enjoyed what I saw of your town. I left a lot undiscovered. I’m coming back, someday soon. |
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Michelle_loves_Mike
since 2003-12-20
Posts 1189Pennsylvania |
hey,,,,,,,thats what I was going to say! LOL Michelle I wish all could find the true happiness I have found,,in the eyes of Mike |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Gee....I just had a vivid memory! It was I think 1981 and I had been split from my first husband for over a year. Went out to a dance club with some friends and met a bearded man from Missouri(did I spell that correctly?)...ummm....anyway, he wore overalls with one shoulder unhooked and was a big man. Like a mountain man really, and he made me laugh which felt oh, so good in that lonely time in my life. I had never ever been alone till then now that I think about it. Anyway to make a long story short, we got together and became an item per say. He was living in a motel that rented by the week - but believe me - I DID NOT go out there. So, time passes, my daughter who was only 12 then, gets to like him too, and then he suddenly up and leaves! He had this southern drawl that curled my toes, and looked at me and said "Gotta get fixin' to make tracks Little Bit." Ha ha haa that's what he called me - "little bit." Hmmmm...where was I ? Oh, yes, so he left. A week goes by and I get a phone call around 3 a.m. from....you guessed it..."him"..and where was he? NEW ORLEANS!! He was "missin'" me and had to let me hear what he was listening to on the radio. "She's a One Man Woman In Love With A Two Timin' Man." It was Mardi Gras and he was "havin" himself a time." I wanted to be there soooo much. Ahhh yes...takes me back it does whenever I hear the words Mardi Gras or New Orleans.....or like now....everytime Karen posts!!! But, don't worry Ser, I still luv ya! Whatever happened to him you ask? Well, months later a knock came to the door, my daughter answered it and came running to me yelling "John's back Mom!" There he was, Man Mountain Dean in all his glory. "Wantin' to make it all up" to me he did. My answer? "Ya better get a fixin' to mosey on." I was otherwise engaged. An Italian had entered my life with eyes so blue you could feel the chill to your bones....but that's another story. Hope I didn't bore anybody or take up space with this, but I had to let it out on this dreary Sunday. Hugs All !! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I'm not exactly in a position to swap ex-boyfriend stories, but you can look for them in my poetry--they are the ones marked with my "it's all fiction" disclaimer. And yes, New Orleans...shaking my head again. How to describe her? I told the Cap once that seeing New Orleans is a bit like meeting a friend's eccentric elderly aunt, only to discover that she is actually your friend's uncle. She's a city in drag, but with an inner grace and finesse that can't be acquired by mere means of donning the vintage gown. I live about five, maybe ten minutes away now, but I seldom venture there. Something permeates my soul there, and it's a bit like letting a dog out of the gate. (I tend to run.) Maybe it's just geography--the smell of mud and mildew that makes the people here celebrate decay. It does get into your soul, and maybe it's the steam of our summers here that encourages that lack of ambition--the very laziness of the natives here which branded her as "the city that care forgot"--or more famously, "The Big Easy." We are below sea level here, and they like to comment that New Orleans is like a "saucer". I think the better definition would be a cauldron. Because this city is nothing if not bewitching. I wish I'd taken more pictures when I was bounding through her streets, but I was so immersed in life that I didn't think to photograph it. I was young and it doesn't occur to the young that life is fleeting. I spent the past couple of days looking for some photographs of the college I stumbled into a couple of decades back. I didn't find any in my albums or boxes, but I did find online, this photo of the Henry Buckner house that was once known as Soule College. Before you take a peek at it, you should understand something else about me--I love houses. Architecture makes me wet. Talk Ionic and Corinthian columns to me baby! Greek Revival? YEAH--GIVE IT TO ME!!! With that in mind, take a peek at this photo of this refurbished mansion where I spent my days trying to remember how to remember the alphabet by way of a typewriter keyboard: http://www.vacationrentalsonline.com/vr/la/no/lano12/lano12.htm Even in the state of near disrepair that I found this house in, I took one look at this place and I was in love. I didn't care what fate waited for me within those walls--I just knew I wanted to go there everyday. I wanted my feet to walk those marble floors, and my hand to caress the banister that lined the stairs. There was a hand-crank intercom system in the classeroom and the desks had holes for inkwells. The ceilings went up to heaven, and I remember wishing I had wings so I could touch the crown molding and ornamental finial touches that graced them. I don't remember a word the Dean said to me during that initial interview--I was too busy looking around. I was home. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh YEA! A sis with Hamburger budget, but prime rib tastes... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
CHRIS???? I'm going to get you to remember something else, I can feel it in my bones! [And I have very old bones!!!] |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Oh, my gosh Karen!! What a beautiful place!! Makes me want to cry out "No Miss Scarlett, I ain't no good at birthin' babies!" Really though....I LOVE old houses too. Once my husband and I were at a small town just half an hour out of our city, and went for a look-see in an ancient estate home. The room that took my breath away was the main room with floor to ceiling - wall to wall mirror. It must have been filled with anyone who was anyone, back in the day, waltzing to a string quartet. Suddenly I felt myself wanting to twirl in front of that mirror and I told my hubby so. He looked at me with raised eyebrows as did the lady showing us the place. I just simply said, "I feel like I could dance and twirl here......or I have..." So I did. I also love verandas. Porch swings. Tiffany lamps(which I finally bought one of for myself), and vintage clothing. I know, as I have told Karilea before.....I have been here before. Not here in Ontario, Canada as such....just here. By the way, Karen? You write incredibly. Your description of New Orleans makes me want to pack a bag tonight and take off!! I just love this. Sharing of lives is such a treat. Soul to soul. Oh, before I go....in that house you could also tour upstairs as well. I got up the stairs, looked in the lovely first bedroom decorated from the past and sighed.....got a few feet from the back bedroom and froze. Not sure what happened there back in the time, but it wasn't good. At least, that's what I felt. Thanks again for letting me share. Yes, yes, Karilea, I will remember more. So much has been locked up tight, but I can feel the chains loosening. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Keep in mind that this was supposed to be a punishment. "Nobody is going to cart you back and forth." (er...they never had before, but anyhoo) "You'll take the city bus and transfer to the streetcar." The STREETCAR???  I LOVED the streetcar!My joy wasn't even diminished by my lack of reception by the staff of Soule. This was an "old school" business college"--they actually taught me how to sit for chrissakes. A combination of practicality and lessons in how to marry the boss. I was put in my place immediately too. They took one look at my bloodshot eyes, blue jeans and free flowing hair and I was told: "If this school wasn't in financial straits? You wouldn't be allowed to mop the floor. You, my deah, simply don't have the pedigree." "Woof." But that was just a thought that I kept to myself--as I stated previously, I wanted this. They looked us over and I was given over to a timid-looking typing teacher, who placed me in the middle of the class and told me "type." "I don't know how," I said. She was a teacher at heart though, and she patiently pointed out the finger placement chart to me, and opened my book for me, placing it in the bookrest for me. "fff jjj fff jjj fff jjj" I was incredulous, but I did that, and then that bell rang. Not a buzzer, but a hand cranked bell. "Miss Hood?" She said, not even looking up, "Please stay after class so I can speak to you." Uh-oh. What now? (Did I type "ffj" instead of "fff"? I had, but that wasn't what she wanted to discuss.) After the others had gone on to the shorthand/Business English class, she discreetly closed the door. "We need to talk about your appearance." (We do?) "Miss Hood? You look unkempt." I was not completely without a clue. I'd just gotten home at 4:30 the previous morning, having been out all night, still working with the band. I was unkempt. I told her I didn't see the point of wearing a suit to hop buses and streetcars to come sit in a dying mansion to type "fff jjj". "Well," she said, "We have a reputation here at Soule. We only 'turn out' the finest and most gracious of graduates--in fact, we've a waiting list of job opportunites based on that reputation. We foster a business atmosphere and you are required to dress accordingly." OH. "What do you suggest?" I asked. "A simple business suit," she answered. "And what might that be?" I asked, quite honestly curious. She sighed. "A skirt, a blouse, a matching jacket?" She looked pained. "Look at the other girls," she suggested, "and dress as they do." "Let me see..." I replied. "Soule prides themselves on 'turning out' outstanding graduates and yet they aren't supposed to stand out?" "Yes!" She looked at me like I'd "gotten" it. Oh. "I can't wear skirts," I replied. "It's a medical condition." "Really?" This "timid" woman was showing some steel. "Just what might that be?" (Was she mocking me?) "Contact dermititis." I said. "My legs are not only ugly, but the condition is contagious. If you like, I'll bring a note from my physician, but I'd like to consult my attorney first." The line in the sand had been drawn. She knew I was full of it, but didn't dare call me on the bluff. "Buy a pantsuit." She sniffed at me. "I don't care if you wear it everyday as long as it is clean. And? Do something with your hair." I smiled and gathered my books, and proceeded to the door. "You're excused." she added pointedly. Oh, the race was on... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ha ha haaaaa......Karen you crack me up!! Pant suits!! ROFL ..... I remember them! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Pantsuits were really ugly things. So were Farrah Face Me hairdos. But, I tried. Who really has been named Farrah since? Anyway…. I was still in the process of self-education and learning when my high school teacher said… “this is for you,” and gave me the letter inviting me to send in a “resume” [at 16?] and high school transcript to the Business and Professional Women’s Association. [Mom’s going to die…she said I was doing nothing more than trying to get clerical work!] Excited? For a minute. Then, I thought, OK girl….this is what is expected. I still failed. Well, for a while I thought I failed myself. Yes, I won a scholarship…a $25.00 savings bond. Wow. When it matured, I paid bills. Then the first marriage was done. The second marriage [another tale] took place. Somewhere in my soul, I knew I wanted to make things right. Late in life [age 29, really seems old, right?] I entered the legal field. I’ve been here ever since. Have I made things “right”? Well, yes, sir, I wanted to be Della Street. I wanted to work for a trial attorney. But…given the circumstances, perimeters, conditions, LIFE…kids, grandkids, etc., I didn’t go for the glory. I went [am still going] for the paycheck and all of its security… what color is DUMB…? And what color, is practical? [where do I go for a name change?] To side-step some obvious, y’all may be wondering now, what the heck is she up to? Not much. A novel to clean up. Facts to face. How can she publish anything, knowing what she knows? Such are the questions I deal with, every day. And life….goes on. With, or without. No difference here. But, somehow, someone makes a difference every day, no matter what big, or little, thing they do. I keep thinking, that little voice? Makes for a hell of a big roar…down the pike. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
hmmm..I feel warm and comfortable reading these stories.. And it's a lonely night...I forgot how hard that is..to be lonely. Thank you, lovely ladies, for reading bedtime stories to me tonight.. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I keep coming back to this thread, reading and feeding on the memory of that time. I'm transfixed by the picture of the Buckner Mansion. I stare and touch the screen, thinking, "well lady, look at you now." I read my own words and I see mistakes that I made, I understand now how I vandalized myself. But as I'm looking at the newly painted columns I see hope for me, too. (I have a Pygmalion complex, yanno.) The truth is, I would not have loved this "house" as much if I'd found it in this grand state. The thing I fell in love with was not the elegance and perfection of what you all see now--I fell in love with the potential of redemption. (I am, afterall, just a flowergirl, with dreams of tiara and grace.) I secretly yearned then to be made over--teach me--I ached to be presented to the queen. ("I warshed me face and 'ands a'fore Oy caim, Oy did," said Eliza Doolittle.) I felt at home in the womb of that estate because she was shabby too. I felt like maybe I could be grand, if someone gave me just a chance--and I was willing to work for it, but...I needed to keep a piece of me too. I needed to keep my 'bones' and I would not be bulldozed to be made over. I had to retain my foundation in order to be a success. I needed to be able to keep the original woodworks of me, because if I didn't? It would have been an acknowledgment that I was born "wrong"--that I didn't have the "pedigree." I wish the janitor hadn't said that to me. I wish more that it hadn't slapped me like truth. So I compromised on the clothing--I bought a denim pantsuit. I put my hair in a ponytail, and removed some of the tourquoise jewelry I was fond of then. Then I just went to work. I was damned determined that those people would not discount me. And wonder of all wonders, I made some friends too. Sort of. They all looked like stewardesses to me. They wore those skirts and blazers, with the mandatory "clown" bow-ties flopping under their chins. I pretended disdain, but I was actually mystified: "How come that stuff didn't look right on me?" But I found my own style, and eventually, a few joined me on the steps at lunchtime. We'd sit on the side of the Corinthian columns pictured in the last photo of that vacation ad you may have seen. I never ate lunch m'self--food and sunshine didn't mix for me then, and I still have trouble to this day eating before evening hours. So I'd buy a soda and chain-smoke, while they ate those nasty tuna sandwiches or what-not. I always felt punished during lunch. It was on those steps that I met "Pan-Am." "Pan-Am" was actually two girls, but I thought of them as one--a siamese-twin flight attendant. They wore the required blue blazered suits with floppy stuffed animal bows; and yes, their names were Pam and Ann, respectively. Thus, (nod) "Pan-Am." (That little trick of memory is the only reason I remember their names at all.) They were nice enough virgins though, so we became lunch mates, sitting there on the steps, staring out into the manicured side lawn of Soule Business College. There was a small sculpture garden there, with one choice piece of modern art that I loved. I would gaze at it as I smoked, listening to them talk tales between tuna bites and crackers. I was lonely during this time--I missed the art and vibrancy of U.N.O. then and that sculpture stood there as a reminder to me that I'd screwed up an opportunity--I'd willingly relinquished a part of me; and that bent piece of iron and steel stood there for me, like a relentless accusation. "What do you suppose that is?" "Pan" asked "Am" one afternoon. "Am" just shrugged and nibbled her soggy fish sandwich. "It just looks so ancient..." "Pan" said. oh dear... "It is" I stated, blowing smoke. "What you ladies see before you is a replica of an ancient Babylonian altar, once dedicated to the goddess 'Tai-pee-rah-teur'." I smiled and looked at them with confidence. "She was considered to be the manifest keys of language, and only wild boars were considered for sacrifice." OH I was just warming up. "See that fluted piece of metal, the one that flows upward with no apparent destination? That was to receive the blessings of her holy spirit." They stopped chewing long enough to let their jaws drop. I was amazed at the synchronicity of them too. "How do you know this stuff?" "Pan" asked. I shrugged and hid a smile, but "Am" noticed and narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute..." She was suspicious. "Tai-pee-rah-teur?" "Tai-pee-rah-teur??? She was indignant. "Typewriter!" I giggled. "Oh you!" "Am" swatted me, fairly annoyed. * * * Smile. I kept myself amused. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
So....did the tuna-twins accept you? What a beautiful, grand old place to go for schooling of any kind. I never got to go any further than high school, and never got to complete my final senior year. But, my highschool was the first one ever built here in my city, and I loved every second there. It's age old grace remains still to-day, with a bit of modern add-ons. Whenever I drive by it, I see past the new front entrance and remember the grand steps and heavy oak doors that greeted you almost ominously. I hated having to leave, but a marriage altar and baby girl were too quickly approaching and my life would change big time. Still in all, my memories of four years there are plentiful. I will share some highschool stories with you sometime if you like. But,,for heaven's sake girlfriend......go on with your journal! I am sick with a darn cold and still I had to come to my puter and check in here. Tell me more - it's like chicken soup as I get well again. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: There are substantive moments in one’s memory that we are slung back to for a sharp “remember!?” which then slings us back to now. The sense of “you don’t belong here” spoke to me in voices rumbling from the foothills of the valley in which I drew the sun into my breast; the ocean waves crashed with a cacophonous breach when I, beached with thoughts of reaching out, felt the languishing hunger of not recognizing what called me. Worse, I feared the difference. And the difference was me. So I walled my flowers well, and being a slip of a girl, beiged my way into elder conversations, listening, listening, smiling, nodding, understanding even when the world of words slipped over my head; still, I sponged it up with a thirst, sometimes recognizing vinegar words, sometimes hearing their silent, unspoken words, “I can’t tell it all, but I can tell you this,” and the speaker refrained from pulling all of their own shadows into light. So many do not understand the concept, “shy”. Speak up, they say; don’t you have a voice? Cat got your tongue? Even as wild and witty retorts took form, they never fully congealed until after the fact; but, oh yes, I had a tongue. Although, so many babbled effortlessly, that the question arose in my heart, what was really one more voice in a din when all of these someones truly needed but an ear to hear what they were really saying? So, for that part of my youth, I listened. True, most of it was nothing more than babble [babel] and even I knew that [“she’s really an old soul”, I would hear grandmother portray to mom, with a flight of her hands in a gesture of expansiveness] so much of it was to be discarded. As I listened more intently, to hear when this or that person’s heart was crying out, and sometimes, yes, sometimes, I heard too much, and looked at them with such large eyes, that they could not even comprehend that someone could, or would take time, to understand. I should have been more aware of the red-flag voices. I fault myself now, and count the failures, of times when turning left, not right, would have been a better road for another. Yet. And these are the silver linings: I count on my hand two, and then one taken in; and from them, I count six. And the numbers will continue, as I heed now voices that are more familiar, albeit more complex in that they tumble forth, as they do, for I have transcended the valleys and broke away from the surf, to find myself in the middle, knowing that I will again scale the mountains, and soak in salt, in the finding of myself. For in my shabby countenance, where once one viewed an ice princess for her quiet, reticent ways, she has been exalted in their own way of belief, to be as a light everlasting, if only to rid them of their own shadows. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Goodness gracious! Between Serenity's awesome wording and yours Karilea.....I feel like just the bookmark between two pages. Hey..that would be good in a poem....hmmm. How I wish I could word my life stories as beautifully. Oh well. Karilea, my sister and I had young lives that were also filled with lines such as "don't speak..listen." But, more often then that was "if only you could smile more on stage." That's what hurt and stayed with me(can't speak for my sister) the most.....always feeling like nothing was ever good enough. We were kids on stage like adults - we did do our best - really we did. So, throughout my life I was always afraid of disappointing people - any people. That's why I am sometimes still hesitant at posting a poem. But, the family here at Passions has been so accepting. My sister NancyLee whom I love so dearly, was the mainstay in our act....the magician, the anchor...I was just an accessory in case anything went wrong on stage....the crowd could giggle and "awww" at me in my silly penguin costume and forget the trick that wasn't. Enchantress never told me to smile more. She would hug me and make me feel special, she still does. Oh dear....I have gotten off track and all misty-eyed. Better go make a tea. Please you two....Ser.....Kari...more please? Ooops...almost forgot....I was only 5 years old on stage and my sister was 12.....yes...we DID do our best. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
I'm here...reading every word... laughing, crying, smiling through tears... and yes... nodding in the understanding of so much of it... I'm remembering so many things... some of them happy... many of them painful... but memories, none the less... and yes, Karen... the story is forming... smile... Story-telling doesn't come so naturally for me as it seems to for you... I envy you that... I'm always too busy worrying (big surprise...grin) about what everyone else REALLY thinks of me... Something I learned at a very young age... what people say to your face, isn't necessarily what they'll say ABOUT you, behind your back... so... I stopped telling stories a long time ago... stopped talking much at all, actually... especially in a group... Somehow, one-on-one always felt a little 'safer'... but even then, I learned not to share the 'real' stuff... doing so always seemed to come back to bite me... so... at the ripe old age of...maybe 10?... I began to master the fine art of internalizing... smile... But?... I'm learning... I'm trusting... and I'm slowly finding my voice again... and yes... I will be back... smile... Thank you... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: Vicky...we ARE one on one. I'm telling stories to Serenity; she's telling stories to the world. We're just bouncing off each other... I'm listening. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
I'm listening too.  |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
I'm here as well..listening, reading and learning. You can really see how childhood and young adulthood shapes a person's personality, how they see things, and the way they go on through life and so on... I see how a few of us here turned out to be real 'people pleasers'. You sure jogged a few memories Chris. I don't think it bothered me as much as you to be up there performing at such a young age. (I know how proud mom and dad were) I also learned what stagefright felt like very early on, but, all in all..I really enjoyed what we achieved. (But, you were younger than the age of reason..which is 7 right?) And, here I was thinking I was born with this smile on my face!  |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
psssssssssssssst more stories, more stories, more stories... purdy please? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Sure, Serene one, I'd love to hear another story from you... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
“Magic” Bear in mind, I was four when it started. I knew how to tie my shoes, count as high as they had time to listen, and had read all of the children’s books that mom and dad’s pocketbook could afford. So when they reverted to a comic book now and then…I took those into the bathroom. Didn’t believe in wasting time. I had a fairly good grasp of the English language and [as grandmother said] impeccable manners. My birthday, being in the “middle” of the school year, so to speak, didn’t fall under the “rules” since impinged on anyone capable of school, in being kept back until they were of “an older age”. So I was thrown in with the five year olds, all three to nine months my senior. As far as education goes, I was with them all the way. As far as social events and occasions…therein stood my demons. The first “demon” to encounter was Truth. Today, there’s too much television about who is playing whom around certain holidays, even as parents strive to keep “some” magic in their children’s lives for as long as they can, certainly, around the holidays. And it all seemed to crash in at once. Mom coming in with the tooth fairy’s dime. Dad disappearing when the reindeer bells started. [Dad got smarter after that, and talked to a neighbor who became Rudolf…] But it was just after my sister was born, and I was eight, that the kids at school were making fun of me because I was so looking forward to Christmas, and Santa seeing my new sister this year. Oh, the taunts. All of my “peers”, peering at me, pointing fingers, and laughing at the skinny little kid in saddle shoes, the one over there wearing braids, who believes in, get this, SANTA! Needless to say, Mom and I had a long, private talk that night. But she warmly took me into the adult circle of magic, saying “how unfortunate it would be to ruin Christmas for your brother. And you, you will have lots of time to pretend to believe, as I see you don’t any longer, for you will want your sister’s eyes to shine, like yours once did. Right?” Oh yes! Oh yes! But my eyes? They couldn’t shine anymore? They shined, once upon a time? I didn’t know that! And now I would have to pretend to make them shine? Oh, the weight of being eight. I did really well for two years. Really well. My little sister grew up believing that Santa was very real, and very jolly, and I, being an adult, helped dispose of the cookies before going to bed. Sissie had gone to bed HOURS ago [well, at least 30 minutes ago.] So I was ten, and my brother, now eight, well, he found out that year, too, and he wasn’t keeping the magic so well, at least, not in my eyes. Had to have a talk or two with him, I did. So, I’m not sure if it was for my brother, or for me, that Mom and Dad arranged for another helper. This one, however, came in full gear, all the way down to the rotund tummy, and beautiful whiskers, and a gift for each of us. But for me…and I knew this was magic because NO one knew it [so it must be Santa for real, right? Those silly school kids in my class didn’t know nothing!] My gift from Santa that year…was a diary. A white diary, with gold letters slanted upwards, and a key. A little brass key on a red silk thread. The promises it held. That night I wrote… “Magic is as real, as the heart desires it to be”. And to this day, I know for a fact that my eyes shine at Christmas. The lump in my throat tells me so. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Nodding here. When my kids started school, I figured that magic was over for us too. But they never mentioned the subject of Santa, so neither did I, and we continued our traditions at home. This went on until they were almost ten years old. (They are so close in age that we just do things collectively around here.) But as I started moving slower, they decided that I didn't have to go through all of that, so we had a little sit-down. (I really rock at playing "Santa".) They told me then, that they knew I was Santa. When I asked them why they continued pretending, their answer touched me so that I cried: They didn't want to hurt my feelings. Yep. The kids are great. The best thing I've ever done. Kari.Thanks for that reminder, you. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Gawd, I'm loving these stories... smile... I'm amazed by how much detail you all seem to remember from when you were young... For me?... much of it is a blur... I remember 'times'... and on going 'situations'... but as far as details of specific events?... not so much...LOL... I think there is much that I'd rather not remember the details of... but as I read these stories?... I find myself trying... really trying...to remember...partly just for me...and partly because?...it's hard to tell an interesting story without details... grin... I AM trying...smile...and thanks to all of you for the encouragement... It means much... |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
I'm reading these too! Sometimes with a smile or goosebumps or misty eyes...I'm trying to think of a few, like Vicky. Love you guys!! Thank you for sharing so much! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
[Serenity, I swear, I am highjacking your thread, and finding a home...] quote: I cannot sing the “Star Spangled Banner” or say the “Pledge of Allegiance” without misty eyes. Can’t be done. Can’t even sing “Amazing Grace” without misty eyes. There’s this huge lump that grows in my throat, as I am taken by visitors back through decades and centuries to the time that men and women knew what they were fighting for. Oh, yes, there were dissenters; people who wanted to live in peace, people who only wanted to grow their crops, and feed their people. People who wanted, oh, so much, to live in quiet, non-combative times. But when it counted? They protected their country, rightfully so. It was not a game. But, our country never was about a game. At least, not like it has been made to seem in the last two decades. I cannot help but think, whether I am there with them, or here with you, that our times really haven’t changed, except for the “games” part of it. When we were young, you and you, and you [and not anyone 30 or younger who MAY be reading this…] there was no VIRTUAL reality. It was ALL quite real. Yes, oh yes, we had our “immortal” thoughts. We could and would live forever, because, after all, we are smart, and smarter than our parents, haven’t they groomed us for just this very spot? Why, we are invincible. They just never told us, they once thought they were, too… I look back. The woman who bore the man I am married to has lived through, count them….WWI, WWII, the Korean War, the VietNam War, The Gulf War, the recent attack on her own country, and the current watch of her time to see that more young men come home, than are lost to time. Since 1908, she has seen things that H. G. Wells was only dreaming of. When once people traveled by buggy a mile or more to get to the next neighbor, she now has a little button she can push for on-line assistance if she falls, and the assistance comes from states away, to a local EMS near her. Ah, you should hear her colloquialisms. They are...in a word, magnifique! “You’ve got to watch the front and the back of them!” “His ideas are worse than a fart in a lamp!” And those are only just two. She says them so often, and has so many, I take them as daily admonitions and none come quickly to mind…maybe later, for she is good for more than one story, or two…and I must take a recorder, I must, to catch the good ones. She says them so fast, they hit home so well….should I say, make sense…that they don’t even settle in as “something good to note”. They just hit home and heart as she says “that’s the way it is”…or “that’s the way it goes”… But she’s full of them. I digressed. Aren’t interactive journals, especially others, wonderful? Up above, I spoke of visitors. I have these slippets [my word, Webster hasn’t caught up] of time. My mind is here, and there, and I am feeling poems and thoughts and seeing visions that I know no one to my right or left is seeing. The voices that told me I didn’t belong in California tell me that I need to continue to walk and see and absorb, and write. I will know when it is the correct time to lay down my thoughts and I will know when it is not. I try to push it now and then, and the failures are there, or here, I should say, for all to see. For Ron has given me a wonderful place to just let it all “allow and be”, and do you all know how many times I thought Oh Lord…. Yes, you have. “What was she thinking?” And then you reflected, and pondered, and thought, well, it’s not her night, and were kind, and good, and lifted me anyway. Even when I thought “this is the worst”…sometimes, it seemed, the best. I can never tell, because I cannot be objective of me, only subjective, undertaking my own “demons” [see them again?] that I wasn’t as perfect as I should be, but wrote not for me as much as for you! My nicknames have entitled me such pseudonyms as “Pollyanna”; ”Stringbean” [only you have to go back many years”]; SaraLee [to rhyme with my name…also going back several years]; Sissie; Dear Heart; Little Girl; Jungel Woman; and of course the always ignoble “hey you”. I have no middle name. My one and only given name is Karilea. [Yes, it rhymes with SaraLee] My mother made it up, so there is no “designated” knowing of what my name might mean. Thirty plus years ago, a nurse in a doctor’s office was given the responsibility/privilege/honor of naming her first grandchild. The grandchild was a girl. I met that little girl about six years later. Her name…. Was Karilea. With a middle name. Sue. It was AFTER that, that Johnnie came out with his song. And I had a chuckle. And misty eyes. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Oh how odd. My mother-in-law just phoned a little while ago. She has some choice colloquialisms too--and as soon as I can figure out how to do this delicately, I will introduce you all to her. She's somethin' else. And Martie, I almost wrote to invite you to join in, as I know you have some stories to share too. And yes, Chris and Nancy--I can't wait to hear from the both of you too. Vicky? We'll have you dancing naked in the rain yet as well! This has turned into more than had I hoped, and it's because of everybody sharing that it became special. So please don't feel like you're hijacking "my" thread--when I want the spotlight back, I'll just shove ya out of it--no problem. So many of us, consider this Ron's home, and if I may extend the analogy, let's just say I'm out back on the patio, chain-smoking cigs, pouring the wine, and swapping stories. You are all welcome. And yep, I'm convinced there's a few men peeking in here from time to time--fingering the lingerie hanging damp in the bathroom and wondering if they are welcome too. (You are.) There's something healing that happens when you share a story in this way. I cringe a bit when people call it courageous to admit a drug problem or other failing, because it's not about courage to me. It's just owning up to what is, and being able to say "that's what happened" and somehow, being able to say that to potentially the entire world takes the power of shame away from the mistakes. Of course, feel free to share whatever you're comfortable with, but if I can claim a small piece of Ron's home as "my thread" then I'm here to proclaim it a "judgement-free" zone.(within Ron's guidelines of course )So yes, ya'll come sit down and be bold with us. and um, Guys? You too. I happen to have the record for male attendance at a tupperware party too. But...twinkling eyes--that's another story. Hugs all. Keep feeding serenity. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I'm going to shut up for a little while... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Bless you Karen. If my head weren't so clogged up from this cold, maybe I could tell a terrific, true story. Maybe not. But, everytime I am feeling ill and/or depressed I think of a french woman I met my last visit to the "breakdown ranch." I really believe that we are here to help heal each other's wounds. The first time I saw her they had her tied in a wheel chair, her long dark hair all over and matted to her face. A face distorted and covered in whatever they had been trying to feed her. I didn't want to look or listen to her ramblings in a foreign tongue. I just wanted to sleep and get strong again. The breakdown had zapped me big time. In a couple of days the womans medication kicked in and she was speaking english and wanting her "smokes." I still didn't trust her.....she frightened me. Afterall, she was classed as manic-depressant, and oh, what stories I had heard about "them." Anyway, probably the big man upstairs was upset with my judgemental way of thinking, so the next thing I knew .... "Chris, you are getting a roommate." Yep..."she" was gonna bunk with me!! I was soooooo scared. All I could think of to do was....hum! Show tunes. Ya. that's good...hum show tunes. I stood as straight as I could looking out the meshed-in windows and hummed something from South Pacific. It happened to be that little french tune that the handsome leading man sings to and with his children. NancyLee you know the one. Anyway,from behind me comes "that woman" with her bag of belongings and starts singing the words to my humble hum. I breathed. Turns out that woman....Denise.....had once been a college English teacher. Very well educated and just a hoot to be around. I did not know that if she slipped up with her meds, she turned into "that woman" I had first seen when I was admitted. She loved to call me by my whole first name, Chrislane. She brushed her hair up into a lovely bun, dressed to the nines in a place that didn't care what you were wearing. And she taught me a lesson of life and acceptance. I think of her often and wonder how she is doing. Well I hope. Judge not. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh Chris! What a lovely bit of reminisce! I love it, and I love you for finding the strength to share it! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Yanno..this is just like a good old fashioned pyjama party! I'm just trying to think of a story I can tell here...(hoping my sister will jog my memory) Pour me a glass of dry red wine please Serenity..it just may stir up some wicked..er, I mean interesting memories. I have to go out for a bit..but I will be back. And Ser? I happen to know the guys ARE reading his! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
...and she knows cause she's the one who performed the tricks ...I just looked cute! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Okay. I'm back. I brought more wine too. And Sunshine? I know you'll be back. And Enchantress--YES--a slumber party! And if those guys are peeking in the windows, I say let's give 'em a show! For now tho, I'll go curl up with some coffee and my notebook--you guys just have to meet my shorthand teacher. sigh. Her name was Mrs. Quick. (shaking my head--I know, I know.) But if I could make this stuff up, I'd be rich... (And where is Janet Marie??? I know she has a story or two--Susan Caldwell? I want to hear about bootcamp! Martie? You've got an entire novel in that first husband of yours...chuckle. Mysteria--PdV? You two are hiding some gems as well. And just where the hell is Nan? (C'mon, ladies, I bought LOTSA wine!!!) |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
White Zin? Ymmmm I'll be back. And with, not without. As for the boys, I just imagine them, snorting into their hands as they hide back the chuckles, thinking they're so clever as to sit outside the bedroom window during our pajama party/kaffee klatche/tea party... but somehow? It's going to enlighten a few of them, and as for the others that just shake their head and say huh? They're not truly dreamers... |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
As I read these stories of various people who have touched each of you, many people have drifted through my mind... but there is one who doesn't just 'drift'... she is always with me... is a part of me... my grandma... or as we called her, 'Mamaw'... So much of who I am and what I enjoy can be attributed to her influence and the time she and I spent together. Yahtzee is still one of my favorite games (more on that later)... there is still something about poker chips that makes me want to touch them...hold them in my hands... No...I never once saw her playing poker (that I recall)...but the chips, neatly sorted in their revolving holder, were always there when I'd go to visit her and my grandpa (Dado), and I couldn't resist sitting on the floor and just playing with them...stacking and re-stacking...mixing and sorting... I can't explain the fascination I had with them...it just WAS. Sometimes I wanted some variety, so I'd break out the Hi-Q...another game I still enjoy. The best times, though, were when I spent one-on-one time with Mamaw... I was a tomboy; and unlike most of the other adults in my life, she seemed to understand and even appreciate that... maybe because she was one too. My grandma wasn't a 'girly' girl. She wore blue jeans and flannels...sometimes cowboy boots...and I still have a Calamity Jane style jacket that belonged to her... You know the kind...natural looking leather, with the long fringe all over it?... I LOVE that jacket... It was one of the only things that I got of hers, after she died, and I remember I used to wear it to school all the time... People laughed at me, but I didn't care. They laughed at me no matter what I wore, and it was my grandma's jacket and I was proud to wear it..and besides...Calamity Jane was a tomboy too, so the jacket really was ME. Some of you might recall the song, by Barbara Mandrell..."I Was Country When Country Wasn't Cool"...well that was me... I was far from a 'cool' kid back then... Mamaw and Dado lived in a small house (actually a trailer, but with a built-on room), on the edge of Phoenix. As I recall, there weren't a lot of neighbors close-by, but instead there was a lot of open space. A few hundred yards from their house was a commercial greenhouse. I remember walking to the greenhouse, with my grandma. We went in and looked at the many plants and flowers (I can probably thank her for my early appreciation of plants as well)...but the thing I remember the most about that walk to the greenhouse?...was the walk back... I had a fascination with insects then...I loved to catch them. Well, the field we were walking through was overrun with grasshoppers, and Mamaw, being supportive of my tomboy tendencies, waited patiently as I caught grasshopper after grasshopper and placed them in a jar for safe-keeping. I have no idea where the jar came from... Could be that we had discussed the grasshoppers prior to our walk, but I don't recall the conversation. All I know is that I was in tomboy heaven out there...with my grandma...my hero...watching and smiling at me... That was just one of so many times with her, that stand out in my mind...simple times, that made such a huge impact on me... She and my grandpa used to fish a lot, and my grandpa would often invite my younger brother to go along. Well, my brother was a 'homebody' as we called him, and always preferred to stay home and play with his hot wheels and G.I. Joe's, so much to my grandpa's dismay, he just wasn't interested. Not once do I ever remember Dado inviting me to go with them. It was common knowledge in our family, that my grandpa didn't much like girls. He even referred to my brother and I, and all of our cousins (mostly girls) as 'the boys'... Now don't misunderstand... he was a kind man and I never felt 'unloved' by him... but I did realize, at a young age, that he would have much preferred to spend time with my brother than with me. Fortunately for me, my grandma didn't feel the same way. She knew and understood my desire to go with them on their trips, and when my brother would turn them down, she would invite me. Of course, I always jumped at the chance to spend time with her...so I'd go... and thus began my life-long love of fishing. I remember, it didn't even matter if I caught anything. Of course, it was a bonus if I did, but I was just loving spending quality time with my grandma... and yes... my grandpa was there too, but I don't recall him really interacting much with me on those trips. It was my grandma who taught me how to bait a hook, cast a line, reel it in... how to watch the 'bobber' for movement... etc... I often think of my grandma when I'm fishing...or even just sitting by a lake or stream... Though I loved fishing, the fact that I was with HER was what made it so memorable. Mamaw made EVERYTHING fun... For several years, she and my grandpa held seasonal jobs at Castle Hot Springs, an upscale, yet casual (does that make sense?) resort, hidden in the mountains, just outside of Phoenix. I recall, one summer...I think I was maybe 10 at the time... my grandma invited me to spend some time at the resort with them. I don't recall exactly how long I was there... maybe 2 or 3 weeks...but it felt like an eternity in heaven My grandma was the Head of Housekeeping there, and I remember feeling 'important' just being there with her. She was well-liked and people treated her with respect, and when she would introduce me, I felt special... I was so proud to be her grand-daughter. During that 'eternity', my grandma and I were basically inseperable. She took me everywhere with her. I remember checking on the rooms with her, to see that everything was being taken care of...and I recall one time, an elderly lady...a guest...was having trouble getting dressed. She was obviously confused, and had put her bra on outside of her blouse. I will never forget my grandma... so patient with her... explaining it to her, and helping her get properly dressed. She helped her without stealing her dignity...and that had a huge impact on me, even then. In addition to checking up on the housekeepers, a portion of each day was spent down by the hot springs. The springs were/are natural springs, making up two pools of water. One was the 'warm' pool where most people would relax. The other was the 'hot' pool...and it WAS hot. Many people came to the resort, simply to 'get away from it all' and relax, but many others came there for the 'therapy' that the hot pools provided...and many of the guests would return each summer, so it was almost like a 'family' there. I loved the springs, but I remember not being allowed to stay in for very long at a time. Even the more moderate of the two pools had a time limit. Of course, I always felt I could stay in there forever, but I never argued with my grandma... when she spoke?...I listened. Right next to the springs was...I want to call it a 'towel house'..but I don't really remember what it was called. All I remember is that my grandma was in charge of THAT too. She didn't have a lot to do there, though...or maybe that was just my childish perception... but we would spend much of our time, sitting in one of the rooms of the 'towel house', and there is where I learned to play Yahtzee. We would play for hours, and she would teach me the fine points of 'strategy'. Every little while, she would have to go check on the pools, enforce time limits and offer towels to the guests, but I always knew she would be right back and we would pick up our game where we had left off... Another highlight of that summer was the horses. My grandma not only knew of, but shared my love for horses. I wonder if perhaps that love was also inspired by her, since I can't recall anyone else in my life who shared the appreciation. Regardless, she knew...and she understood...and Castle Hot Springs just happened to have horses available for guests...and so...my grandma took me riding. I had ridden a little bit before that, but mostly pony rides and a short ride on a friend's mule. I don't recall a 'real' horseback ride, prior to that one with my grandma. So, we took off up the little dirt road that lead from the stables, and I was absolutely loving it...and then... my horse spooked! There was a yellow sign by the road. I don't recall what it said, and I don't think the horse really cared what it said. He just didn't much like the color, and without warning, he reared up. To this day, I don't know how I managed it..but I stayed on him. I think, had I been with anyone but Mamaw, I wouldn't have stayed so calm...but, somehow I just knew that I'd be okay. I always felt safe with her. She explained, to me, why the horse had been spooked, and made sure I was okay, and we continued our ride. After that, I couldn't get enough of riding, and for the next several years, I drove my parents crazy begging for a horse. My grandma played such a huge part in shaping my life... but I never felt like she was choosing my life for me. I respected her immensely, and even at a young age, I felt that she respected me too... My grandma died suddenly, when I was just 12 years old. I'll never forget that day. She was always so active and had been mowing the yard, just before she died. She started feeling sick to her stomach, and came in to lie down. My grandpa went to the store to get something for her, and when he came back?...she was already gone. She was 51 years young... I remember being in shock, when my mom told me. I couldn't believe that she had died... and I will never forget the day of her funeral. That was the first time I ever saw my dad cry... I don't recall crying 'in public' after she died...by that time, I had learned to keep 'real' emotions to myself, so I hung on to her memory tightly...yet no one knew... I still miss my grandma immensely, and often feel her with me. I have even 'seen' her from time to time, though I have never told anyone...until now... They wouldn't understand. How could they?...they never even knew how much she meant to me or how much of an impact her life...and death... had on me. I certainly couldn't expect them to understand my 'sightings'...and besides... I was raised in family that wasn't 'open' to those things, so I couldn't tell them...they would have downplayed it...and I wasn't going to have them downplay my grandma....no way... To this day, no one in my family really knows the impact that she had on me in those young years... They still don't know how it crushed me when she died... how much emotion I bottled after that... and they likely never will... I often wonder what our relationship would be like, were she still alive. I think we would still be close...the best of friends. She knew me and understood me like no one else... I miss her... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Okay Vicky girl, if you're going to tell the stories like this, you're going to have to issue a hanky alert. Good gosh, get you going and we've got prime rib for supper... it's a good thing Serenity brought the wine.... This whole blooming thread is turning into one heck of a  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Teachers….somehow, teachers came to mind. Seed was probably planted by Mrs. Quick… Miss Pendleton was a very tall woman who decided to be just a bit taller and sported a beehive as she attempted to teach her French students in my sophomore year. Unfortunately, she didn’t speak much French. Rather, she would belabor us with HER stories of her time in Africa, her students there, and tried to make what I would otherwise consider a very beautiful country into a dusty, dirty, dingy place. But she talked of it so much so, I figured she wanted to go back. Quietly, I thought of ways to get her there, but unfortunately my magic wand wasn’t working. And I so wanted to LEARN French! How I tried to get into Mr. Edwards class, but I was too late in the line of students who wanted out of Miss Pendleton’s class and into Mr. Edwards’ class. All of us realized there was going to be nothing to be gained by Miss Pendleton’s teaching skills. So I watched this woman who, for the most part, entertained only herself for the hours she spent in “teaching” class. How I wanted the French teacher my mother had told me about – from day one, he stated one sentence, “everything from this point on will be in French” and promptly proceeded to make the rest of his announcement in French. Everything was written in French on the blackboard. You wanted to know what was being said? You picked it up quick, or you failed. Oh, now there was a taskmaster I could fall in like with! But no, I had this very tall, very long woman in front of me. Long hands, long arms, and the longest face you ever saw on any one person. Did I mention the beehive? You can only imagine how THAT emphasized what could have been minimized. Guess what? I got her the second year, too. Bummer. By then I knew that in order to have any life outside of school [because as the oldest three, with two younger siblings, I had a lot of home chores to attend to, and the sooner my school work was done, the sooner I could get to the chores, and possibly find some free time for myself and my passion for reading]. Since I was going to squeak by on a C anyway, I treated Miss Pendleton’s class like study hall. She never seemed to notice. Yes, she was still going on about teaching the poor children in Africa. I lost count on the number of times we heard the story. Can you imagine my relief to graduate that class, with a C, after my junior year!? I thought about trying French one more time, in the hopes of getting Mr. Edwards, but oh wait…English Lit! Now there was a class I could sink my teeth into! Yes, please, sign me up for English Lit!! Senior year came, and with English Lit, and so did Mrs. Paddington. She was a new teacher, for I hadn’t heard of her in the previous year. Can you imagine how long MY face got when it was the newly married, previous Miss Pendleton teaching me English Lit??? I cried inside. I cried because if she taught English Lit like she did French, I was in for one more year of Africa. So I guess it was with some cynicism in my very young person that when she decided to focus primarily on creative writing in her lit class, that I was suspicious whether she really knew what she was asking for. I was even more suspicious when she continued to return my papers to me marked with A’s. A’s, and A’s, and more A’s. Even on my penmanship, she made comments. And I was suspicious of those, too. I truly felt as if she knew somehow that she had let me down in her French class. Was she trying to make up for it, now? Was she rewarding me somehow for putting up with her for three years? No, these grades could not at all indicate that whatever I wrote was ever going to be “good enough”. She was just feeling sorry for me for knowing all about her Africa. Oh, yes. One thing I did feel sorry for her over, and that was when one of the boys not so charmingly referred to her as “horse-face”. Yes, one could see it, and realized all along that her hairdo would never make it better. It was a few days later she came into the Lit class, with her very long, very lovely black hair down, and pulled back into a pony tail at the nape of her neck, held with a silk ribbon. My god, she was a lovely woman. Even her very large teeth seemed to have become smaller overnight, with that one little change in hairstyle. As she handed me yet another A for a paper done about a Hallowe’en tale, I shook my head at it, but looked up at her, and told her how much I liked how she looked that day. She must have overheard that nasty boy’s comment from a few days before, because I know I saw her eyes well up with tears. But I still didn’t believe in her A’s. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Karen~ Bootcamp was soooooooo boring...LMAO what a horror... But I had written an email to a friend and when I finished part of it I realized it needed to be here (subjective). As those of you that know me know, I am not one for details..straight to it. So forgive the lack of real writing ability. Anyway...here you go: Illness and Death My experience with a serious illness was not good. Partly because I convinced myself that she would make it and be cured. Partly because the doctors allowed us to think that way. When it became obvious that she wasn't going to make it I was shocked, horrified and devastated. I had a total break down in the hospital hallway. Which is not me at all. I am always the strong one, the one there for everyone else to lean on. In this case I was the daughter-in-law, therefore I felt it my duty, even though she had been a mother to me for 17 years, to be there for her children, because surely their pain was deeper than mine. I was wrong on that account. She took a piece of my heart when she died. It's been three years and I still miss her. I have terrible guilt over divorcing her son after she died. My point of all this rambling? I wouldn't trade the pain of missing her for never knowing her. She gave me too much and I am who I am to this day because of her. So the pain is worth that. I guess in life, we watch, listen and learn and then we let go, whether its due to their death, ours or just a letting go because its time to part. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: Just before my first mother-in-law died, I divorced her son. He told me that it was that news that made her "lose it".... And I did care for her, very much. Well done, m'dear. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Vicky & Susan, so glad that you joined in. After just having a happy cry watching Under the Tuscan Sun (you must see this scenery-beautiful movie), I came right here to Karen's journal and had another good cry. Enchantress & my mother died at the very young age of 47...well....46 really as she passed in January and would have celebrated a birthday in March. It was 1969. I had just given birth to my daughter three months prior. I had so much more to ask Mom about, so much more laughs to share, so much more love to give and receive. Strange, but we never ever talked about her cancer. I don't know if she spoke with my sister much about it either. That's probably why when I got a phone call from my Dad saying she had passed, it didn't seem real. Back in those days it was only whispered about. Keeping the hard facts of life from the "children" was the norm. Instead this type of thinking backfired on the seniors in the family. Holding on to one another, my sister and I broke to pieces at the viewing(an odd term when you think about it)of our sweet, petite, porcelain doll of a mother. I will never forget that moment - not ever. But, Mom will be remembered only with smiles. She taught NancyLee and I music appreciation, that flirting wasn't a crime if no one was hurt, keep a kleenex up your sleeve in case of a sneeze or tears, a little dab of perfume goes a long way, dance as if you were professionally taught, smile when you would rather cry, make your hubby feel like he's male perfection, and high heels might hurt, but boy do they make your legs look good! Hee hee....oh, and so much more. I think Mom was put on earth for such a short time because Heaven missed her beautiful soul just too much. I really don't know why I got so carried away with this when I was actually going to tell a story about my grandmother! lol. Come on NancyLee....put on your thinkin' cap. Cheers ladies. Oh, by the way.....I don't drink wine, don't really drink at all...hmmmm...but I used to love a little sip of Southern Comfort. Carry on !! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah Chris, what a lovely...so many lines in here that just rammed into my soul...darlin' girl, I'll go all the way to the South to pick you up that Southern Comfort if you keep that thinking hat on.... I'm so PROUD of you! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Ah Chris...you know you brought the tears with that remember. I too was thinking about our grandmother, having been raised a lot by our grandparents while mom and dad did the 'show biz' thing. You know..when mom made 'the transition', being only 46, well, at the time it didn't seem that young..but when I reached that same age..it hit me, I mean really hit me how young she was. I'm off to prepare dinner...but the wheels are turning now... And btw Chris....You have a wee bit of Southern Comfort left inside my window seat. Carry on folks...I will return!! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Boy, that Southern Comfort should be pretty ripe by now, seeing as I bought that when I lived with you and your family back in the early 80's. Sippin' Southern on your front porch on those hot summer nights....remember when....oops, maybe another time. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*touching the screen* You ladies are priceless. thankyou, thankyou so very much... Sometimes old times are hard places to go, and other times it's harder not to go there. This is reminding me so much of a time when I used to run an informal "support" group from my home. My children were just tots then, and "the group" was something spontaneous that I'd done. Y'see, I found myself being "sought out" by various friends from all walks of life. They were curious. How could a former party girl find such contentment being a stay-at-home mom? And I had too--I gloried in the baby days, planting herb gardens, writing & painting, and I felt consumed by creativity. I spent my days (and most nights) alone with my kids, and happy about it too. My nights were spent reading inspirational literature, and scripture from the world's religions. We were poor too, so my house was always open as we couldn't afford to run the air conditioning. I played my Joni Mitchell loud, and I could be seen digging in the gardens then. I was learning to make tonics and tinctures--herbs bundled beneath the porch, my babies tan and happy in the playpen or walker. So the ladies began to drop by and we'd talk--very much like we're doing here, now. They wanted to get to know "the witch." It was the first time that I recall being "sought" out, (by women, anyway) and it genuinely puzzled me that anyone would be interested in keeping company with me. Until then I'd thought I had to be "on" all the time--I'd worn myself out being a prototype of Janis Joplin. My newfound popularity mystified me. It never occurred to me before that I could make friends just being myself. More and more, I found myself on the phone, fielding questions regarding gardening tips, and phases of the moon. I recommended books to them. They did the same for me. There was just such a communion between us all, and we shared our laughter, tears and just listened sometimes. It actually snowballed to such a degree that it sparked more than a little resentment with the insignifigant other. "What are you now, dial-a-witch?" he asked once as he handed me the phone yet again. It was beginning to get a bit intrusive on the family time. I was protective of that time too, so I had what I thought was a great idea. I wasn't the only one who knew things--I thought that these ladies needed to meet each other. So I had a meeting. Close to forty people showed up at my tiny suburban house. Mostly women, but there were a few curious men too. I had made an outline of things I wanted to discuss based on the faqs--frequently asked questions, of course. I didn't have a clue as to how to "direct" anything either. I just thought it would be cool if we could get together and help each other through some puzzling times. So I made some copies of herbal charts for the gardeners. I had some copies of books that I'd found helpful and they were on display. I asked them to help out with refreshments too, so we began a "pot-luck" party tradition--which resulted in recipe sharing and market tips. We even started an informal food bank for those who were going through particularly hard times. I was taken aback that first night at just how many people showed up. They didn't all continue to come, of course. There were some who showed up with the enticement of free courses in witchcraft. The first thing I told the group was that there would be no sacrificing of goats--because some women did actually show up wearing black. They were going to be disappointed by what we didn't discuss. Those are the ones who didn't return. I divided the rest into two groups--those who were in fact sincere in spiritual practices, and those who were more interested in the comradery and emotional support offered. (The ones who were interested in learning "craft" constituted a much smaller group. I later started calling them "my girls" and to this day, they call around sabbat.) The first thing I insisted on is that we share leadership. I held the floor for that first night only (actually the second too--but that was just until we found our direction.) We met in parks, and at each other's homes--and the rest of the meetings were held in the daytime. We had assignments for each other. These varied, but they were designed to urge each other out of comfort zones. These assignments weren't mandatory, but if someone chose not to do them, they were required to give an explanation of "why." "Armchair psychology" at its best, for sure. But it did allow about twenty housewives to network and support each other through some tough times. We discussed everything from sharing "rape" stories, child molestation spousal abuse--it's horrifying how common a theme that is too. We were just playing but something solid grew there, and we helped each other as we formed friendships for life. We knew things about each other our own families didn't know. It wasn't too long before someone decided that we needed to give our little club a name. Smiling wide now. I have some letterhead with dates on it to prove this too. The name we decided upon was "A circle of friends." Just like on the blue pages. My sister came upon our theme song through one of her assignments. Her task was simply to stand up and sing, a song of her choice, for the group at the next meeting. She didn't stand, but sat cross-legged in the cramped trailer of one of the members. She protested that she was "tone-deaf" and that she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. But she was willing to do it, but warned us that it wasn't going to be a concert. She wasn't through the first chorus when the decorative plastic palm tree behind her fell, for no apparent reason, hitting her on the head. We considered it a sign and let her out of her turmoil (and ours). The song she'd chosen was by Harry Chapin--All My Life's a Circle. Here's an excerpt, for those unfamiliar: " It seems like I've been here before; I can't remember when; But I have this funny feeling; That we'll all be together again. No straight lines make up my life; And all my roads have bends; There's no clear-cut beginnings; And so far no dead-ends. Chorus: I found you a thousand times; I guess you done the same; But then we lose each other; It's like a children's game; As I find you here again; A thought runs through my mind; Our love is like a circle; Let's go 'round one more time." * * * Weird, huh? * * * (This story sounds so "hokey", I know.) But I knew this all felt familiar. thanks again ladies... |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
the moth is still recouping and trying to be good... (anyone falling for that???) and it seems I am always way behind in pips these days but wants to come back and read some of these sharings... you guys should be turning these into prose. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
KA baby??? ya put a whole new spin on "interactive." |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Jan? You just get yourself better. I am so selfish...whine.... I miss your voice lady. Love ya m'twin. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Wow Karen. I wish I had a group like that to go to ..... hey! I do. Right here.  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I think Serenity can spin anything...including minds. Which is a very good thing, for all of us. I'm going to see if I can find a clam at Red Lobster [I'd rather find an oyster], come back, and see what I can "dig" up. You've one heck of a garden, Lady. Look at what's popping out all over... |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
the voice is coming back... but the best is..I can SWALLOW now... lmao |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Digging Solitude… [Blame it on Serenity’s garden…] If you’ve read any of my prose or poetry, you know I was born in Los Angeles. Culver City, to be exact. Queen of Angels Hospital. My first seven years were concrete years. Then Dad moved us to Nipomo, as the workforce for carpenters had moved north, to the “undeveloped” areas. Nipomo, about 300 folk, was country-quiet. A tomboy’s paradise. It was, simply, Heaven. Horses. Dogs running around. A big old bull in the pasture out back. Chickens. Rabbits. And a GARDEN. Man, I didn’t know worms got THAT big! Trees to climb, and cats to pet. Man, seven was good. Look at all the fun things to do on a farm! Digging in dirt. Gathering eggs! Planting LOTS of neat and weird stuff! “Why so much room between these itty bitty seeds, Daddy? Don’cha wanna put ‘em closer?” “Oh, you’ll see. You’ll see…” Nipomo dirt was good, dark and rich soil. Really rich soil. It seemed as if overnight, literally overnight, green things were sprouting up! We had a GARDEN! And a lot of things came into perspective. Like weeding. And watering. And weeding some more, being careful not to trip over vines and such. Jack in the Beanstalk came alive among the corn rows. Cornsilk became magical beneath my fingertips. “When will everything be ready, daddy?” “Soon enough, little one”. The snap beans were ready first. And the peas. Fresh carrots soon followed, and great leaves of spinach, while the squash and pumpkins and watermelon continued to grow. The corn would be…soon! Soon! A week later, Dad learned about a house we could get relatively cheap on the south side of Santa Maria. That’s where Mom and Dad worked most of the time, and the 20 minute drive to and from Santa Maria to Nipomo was 40 minutes a day they didn’t want to be away from the kids, not to mention gas and baby-sitting expenses. And the schools might be better, I heard them say, as they pillow-talked into the night. I lay there in my bed, wondering who was going to take care of the garden? Everything was almost ready to pick and enjoy, and we, who worked SO hard all this time to care for it, wouldn’t taste anything. I remember the prick of salty tears running down my cheeks and into my ears, and I wasn’t sure [then] why I didn’t want to move away from this little part of heaven. Maybe my fingernails would never know good rich dirt again. We moved. The new house was on the corner of a huge old vacant oil field where several other life-changing stories would occur. We were on the outskirts of town, and dad promised “another” garden. We still had our chickens and rabbits, that was good. Then about three nights after we moved in, daddy got me out of bed around midnight. “Look!” The moon was SO big and full. “Want to come with me and your Uncle? We’re going on a little shopping trip.” I was so bemused with the biggest moon I ever saw, and I never turned down anything that had to do with my father. We shopped, all right. We returned to Nipomo in the dead of night, and picked the corn, and watermelons, squash and zucchini, melons and found the remaining carrots, spinach leaves, and cleaned out our garden. I remember giggling as we drove home under the full moon. The next day, the new renters moved in. The garden was theirs. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
First of all, Janet Marie - you have been sick with a cold? Me too! My ears ache and my throat is so sore and my nose is like a faucet. Oh well, could be worse. Get better soon! Karilea, your childhood home sounds wonderful. I always wanted to live on a farm. I have a love of animals especially horses. When I was only around 4 or 5, my grandfather would often take me with him to the "garage" to have his car "looked at." It was just outside of London Ontario, and a rural area. I know now that it was just "Poppy's" excuse to get away from the house, the city and sit with the mechanics at the garage and have his favourites, a bottle of cold Coke and a smoke. Now, I would be as patient as I could waiting for him. Kicking stones, petting the garage's mangey, old hound and basically daydreaming. Then the time would come! Poppy's visit was finished and he was going to take me by my bestest of best places! It was a small farm that raised Shetland ponies. He didn't know the owners, so my Poppy would just park his old car at the side of the road and we would walk to the fence and chat. Always, his final words to me would be... "Chrissy, when Poppy wins the Irish Sweepstakes, which pony do you want?" Well now ! I was so sure he was gonna win that I had to really think long and hard on my answer. "Umm...the black and white one please." I would say with a big grin. "Are you sure?" "Not the pure white one....or the palamino?" He took a haul off his smoke and looked serious. I would change my mind a hundred times before we left. lol. I hope he knew how special those trips were for me. Geesh....and I was gonna write about my grandparents garden. Hmmm....maybe my sister will. I won't be able to sleep to-night now because of all the memories flooding forth. Come on Karen - give us more of yours- please? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
wow. a shetland pony farm. WOW. If that's not a little girl's dream I don't know what is... That just reminded me of a conversation amongst "the girls" of my group. I don't remember the make of my friend's car, probably a toyota--all I recall is that it was basically a tiny piece of tin, and we would barrel down the highway fearlessly in that thing. My friend was pretty much a slob, too, within the confines of her own environment anyway. She was militant against littering the world, but her own vehicle was a rolling garbage can. It also had the distinction of having a hole in the right floorboard of the back seat--so the fast food containers and sometimes even bags of groceries from her shopping trip the day before would be piled to the left, usually held down by a kid's sweater or some article of clothing. There was only room for three of us, and so it was usually my friend (call her Elise), another girl we have to call "Frankie", and myself. Elise would drive, of course, and "Frankie" would normally hop in the back, allowing me the front seat. This wasn't out of respect, but to avoid potential disaster. I am so absentminded, they didn't trust me not to put my feet down, through the hole while we were riding. Nod. Ouch.On the day of this recollection, for some reason I was sitting in the back. We were driving through Lafitte that day and I remember it was a day of glorious weather, much like today was. We had the stereo on, Elise was singing, and Frankie had her long wild hair, twisted up beneath her head, one bare foot in the window, looking queenly calm as she gazed at the scenery. I was busying myself in the back with er...something I'll let ya'll guess--something I no longer actively advocate, um, you know? Sure you do. The highway was a blurry line through the hole between my feet. Over the music I heard Frankie squeal: "oooooh! Look at the cute little sheep-like things!" Elise, a former farm girl, turned down the radio and sighed, saying with a pained look on her face: "Frankie? That is [an expletive] goat." She looked a little cross as she lit a cigarette one-handed. "I cannot believe you are a frigging witch and can't recognize [an expletive] goat." I just grinned at her in the rearview mirror. The highway was still zipping by between my feet. But I was still busy with "paperwork." I asked Frankie to roll up the window. Frankie did, but defended her ignorance of goats by saying she had a pony on her Grandma's farm--no other pets. I was alarmed but focused as Elise stepped off of the gas, slowing the car considerably as she looked at Frankie in astonishment. She was a more than little cross now. "A pony? A pony? You had [an expletive] pony?" (Elise loved dem adverbs.) She ranted on. "You have been telling me for three years about your deprived childhood, and now suddenly I find you had a pony?" She was steamed. "I'll bet you had a canopy bed, too!" um... Frankie blushed. "heh, heh?"That's when they heard my quiet "uh oh" from the backseat. Yep. I'd dropped my "busywork" down the hole. * * * "I do not believe this..." Elise was very unhappy now. She pulled over to the side of the highway and Frankie and I swapped seats. "Sorry." I offered sheepishly. And we just traveled on down the road... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
And your busywork my friend was blowin in the wind....your busywork was blowin in the wind. Hee hee. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
OMG!! Something about farmland triggered a way back memory. There is something about being the older of the 'two sisters'....responsibility! From the time I was seven and Chris came along, (she was supposed to be a baby brother too!), but, I'm glad she wasn't as we already had brother Joey the dummy..oh, sorry, another story..anyway as I was saying..with mom and dad so busy, unless we were with our grandparents all we had was each other. (And that special bond has remained and only grown stronger over the years). Anyway, when Chris was about four or five and I would have been eleven or twelve, I was entrusted to watch my little sister at a picnic the two of us were allowed to attend with the next door neighbours. As things go, it was a very hot day in the old park outside of town..tons of kids, and adults, lots of games to play, potato sack etc., and moi kinda lost track of Chrissy...Talk about panic city!! I had everyone calling out and looking..seemed like hours went by...no Chris. Seems she had somehow managed to lock herself in an old wooden broken down outhouse and she couldn't get out again!! Now if it was hot outside, just imagine how hot it was in that tiny outhouse!! Had to have been 100 degrees at least in there. She had been yelling, we found out later, through a hole the size of a fifty cent piece, while standing on the edge of the seat, right next to the hole which was large enough for her to fall into!! Someone finally heard her and jimmied the lock to free her...but what a state we both were in. Her from being locked in that stinky hot outhouse, and me, from shirking my responsiblities. To this day I think both of us have an everlasting fear of one of those johnny-on-the-spot, port-a-johns! Going for another glass or ...refreshment.. Oh the memories Serenity! They just keep flooding back. This is such fun! Okay guys...we know you are reading too! Remind me to tell you of the time my sister took the roofers a block away a pitcher of Kool Aid, in her bikini! ROTFL!! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Good grief!! What a memory that is! I was soooo scared and my legs were trembling. I tried to yell through the hole in the side of the outhouse, but that meant standing up on the seat and if I stepped back a few inches, I would have surely fell in. YUCK. No wonder I can't even use a phone booth without knowing for certain that the door will open! What?!! I never served the men Kool Aid in a bikini !! It was a one piece. Night All !! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee The port-a-john reminded me again! (I'm pretty sure I told this one elsewhere in the forum, but, shrug, here it is again) I sometimes react with some instincts of protection here in the forum, because? Well, I come by that naturally. We're back at parades now, good poets. I'd taken my daughter to go use the port-a-let (that's what they call 'em here) and as is sometimes the case, there was a bit of a line to get in. There were three of them lined up, and still no lack of customers. The poor child was squirming too, so naturally she was placed in front of me. She was next in line, right after this biker guy. (Yeah, okay, I thought about that too, but we train the kids early in port-a-let ritualed clean--as much as possible, anyway.) I had turned to talk to some friends behind me, maintaining my place in line and I heard the distinctive thud of a port-a-let door. I turned and my daughter was not there, so I was happy that she'd made it without an accident, and I was about to resume my conversation whereupon, to my horror, the bikers began rocking the port-a-let. I "lost" it. I must have grown three feet in stature as I began hurling expetives to those "boys" who were um, making waves. In the midst of this tirade, I felt a tug on my jacket and heard my daughter asking puzzled, "Mom?" Someone in the next line had mercy on my child, and allowed her to cut in their line. I was relieved but then it dawned on me. OMG. I was blushing furiously and couldn't apologize enough to the leather and tattoo gang. The largest of the hawg wild just looked down at me and smiled as though I were cute, and said something that amounted to a verbal pat on the head: "I just wish you were my Mom..." aw. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Ooooh remember crop tops??! I had a really sexy one with little white balls dangling from it.. AND white terry cloth short shorts! Bet Chris remembers that outfit I thought I was SOOO cool! Ahahahaaaaaa! Nite everyone. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Gotta luv those biker dudes!! Okay, I am off to bed for sure this time. Nighty night!  hold the presses! Yes, I remember your "calypso" outfit. Those shorts looked more like underpants......ha ha haaaaaa I hate the word "underpants" ha ha haaa....oooh Zzzzzzzzzzz |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"g'nite" ladies. Thanks for the smiles. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
I'll catch up on my reading tomorrow... For now?...just popping in to wish you all a goodnight...smile Love ya, ladies... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
It starts early, before the sun is up. I hear him, walking softly, quietly, easily through the house, I hear the silent movements of reach, stretch, the hushed sounds of the coffee pot being moved, the slight rumbling of pipes as water fills them, rushing forth to the opening of the coffee pot, the slight shushing bubbling sound of water being captured between the walls of the percolator. As a cabinet door opens, I’ve by now sat up in the top bunk, and move slowly as to not wake the sleeper below me. The morning air is chill with moisture, and outside is still dark, very dark. I ease my leg over the end of the bed and make my way down the ladder, knowing the cold wood floor is going to cause me to wish [again] I had placed my slippers close to the ladder. The socks I took off just yesterday are there though, so I pick them up, grab my bathrobe for warmth, miss the one creaky floor board, slip by Mom’s open door, and down the hallway into the bathroom. Then I peek around the doorway into the kitchen. There he is, the coffee grounds already smelling up the kitchen in warm, misty perking sounds, blurp, blik blick, blurpblikblick, and again, I am the FIRST one to see such a smile, finger raised to mouth, in mime of shhhhh. His long thin legs clad in ironwear jeans, his white T-shirt showing wear but smelling like Old Spice and sleep, I sit on his lap for my morning hug, and feel the bones of his back under my little girl hands as the squeeze and hug is tight, and long. Then, “well, Sunshine, let’s get our coffee” whispered, to not wake the others, not just yet. His black, and mine, milk with some coffee…then out onto the patio, where he wipes California fog off the wood chair with his huge old blue farmer’s handkerchief, and we watch the hills to see which of us doesn’t blink as the Sun makes its debut. Who will see the first hummingbird? Soft girl questions and quiet Dad answers fill the air and do not disturb the birds. Foggy smells and bottlebrush flower smells mingle with coffee steam. Distinct thoughts within my mind [capture this moment, right here, right now, never let go] speak so loud as to have obscured that last response, and I look at him and he just...smiles. The memories start early, before the sun is up, and I know he is still with me, every morning. [This message has been edited by Sunshine (03-11-2004 10:20 AM).] |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Karilea~ I got to work a bit early this morning and read what you wrote... Do you know how lucky you are to have had such a wonderful Dad? I know you do.. God, how I have ached all my life to have a Dad that I can hug... Mornin' by the way! |
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scorpio Member Ascendant
since 2002-10-02
Posts 5178right...there |
What a fascinating thread of memories!!! Ladies, your stories are wonderful reads. Thank you for sharing and remembering. believe in what your heart feels... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Susan...I did. And I love sharing him with those who missed out. He would have liked that very much. Scorpio, please, don't be a stranger. In fact? Join in, if you will. I'm sure you have a story or two of that sleeve of yours. [I'm not even going to ask Serenity if she minds, 'cause I know she doesn't!] |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Okay Karen, you made me start thinking about bootcamp and well..crap...I am formulating in my mind (only because work has me running today)....but I am working on it! Anybody else been to bootcamp? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Does Camp Fire Girls count? |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karilea, what wonderful morning memories of you and your Dad. I don't have a favourite "morning" memory .... but I do have a lunchtime one. When I was in highschool, my mother worked from noon till five at the gift & leather goods shop my father managed. Not leather as in jackets....but as in suitcases, briefcases and handbags. My mom ran the jewelry section. Oh, just had another memory. Anyway, my Dad would come home for lunch and so would I. Mom would have already made up a big plate of sandwiches before she left for work. Placed a sheet of wax paper over them and left a can of soup out for me to open and heat. One noon hour both my father and I were ravenous, and Mom had made excellent ham and cheddar cheese sandwhiches. We were delighted. We chatted about my school classes and Dad told me about his morning at the shop. I was felt so important and I remember staring at his hands. Hands so strong, yet graceful....perfect for performing his magic tricks. Suddenly our chatter stopped. There was only one wedge of sandwhich left. Dum da dum dum!!! Our eyes met. His so blue I could swim in them. I knew the "game" was on. Like two sodbusters from long ago, we steadied...don't blink.....careful.....DRAW !!! In a flash we both grabbed for the last sandwich. Ham, cheddar and lettuce went flying! There was no winner that day, as each of us wound up with just a piece of crust. But, the laughter and that shared game has remained with me for almost forty years. What a blessing that is. Oh dear.....where's my kleenex? I know that I don't write very fancy. But, I love sharing stories with all of you. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Here you go Karen Bootcamp~ The First Day (KO43) The year? 1982. My age? Seventeen. I shake my head now at all that I thought I knew then. But somehow, someway, even at 17, I made the best decision I could, and it changed the course of my life. It was January and I was about to finish High School and report to Orlando, Florida for Recruit Training with the United States Navy. I was so proud of what I was doing. It didn’t matter that it was my only option. I had to get out of my parents home, I had to get out of Warsaw, Indiana or I would be lost and broken forever. So there I was on a plane for the first time of my life. And you know what? Back then they served alcohol and didn’t ask for ID (drinking age was 18). So I proceeded to partake on the way to bootcamp. LOL, what was I thinking?? When we landed it was late and I was stumbling, apparently, so where a lot of others. I managed to find the room we “new boots” were told to go to until the bus picked us up. I “fell asleep” on a couch. Next thing I knew we were rounded up, put on a bus and taken to the base. This little trip had a lot of firsts for me and another was seeing a palm tree. Like I said, it was late, so I didn’t get a good look but I saw the outline and realized looking at that palm tree, that my life was about to take a drastic turn. Everything as I knew it, was gone or different. I had my first pangs of homesickness (yet I hated it there, right?). They took us all into a huge room with long tables and hard, cold chairs. But wait!!! Don’t sit down just yet (it was now about 0100); you need to pee in a cup before we get started. What??? Pee in a cup? Is that possible? Oh, but it was and as I learned years later, its not only possible to do it, but also to watch others while they do it! (Another story). So pee in a cup I did. Then we got to sit. And sit. And sit some more. I was tired. I wanted to go home. But there was a ton of paper work to do. Lots of yelling at us that needed to be done. When they finally let us go to our “company barracks” it was 0400 (that is 4:00 am). I fell into my rack, and slept. For 0.2 seconds!!!! Some hideous sound like explosions rocked my rack and had me jumping up and out so fast I was standing before I was awake. (Trashcan banging, it’s an art form) That first day in bootcamp consisted of being yelled at, getting our uniforms, being yelled at, and being yelled at some more. Let me tell you, when you get issued your seabag, which consists of all your uniforms, shoes, belts and covers (hats) it is all stuffed into the seabag. And then you sling that entire seabag up on your back (maybe 60-80lbs) and you march back to your barracks, which in my case was a couple of miles away. I thought I would die. I was 5’1” and around 95 lbs. A weakling. Bootcamp was about to fix that. Later that day, I learned two things. Number one; always take a smoke break. If you don’t smoke, START!!! And so I did. It was the only time I got away from the company commanders that seemed to hate me. Oh you don’t think??? LOL…. Number two; my mother exists within other people. The end to my first day in bootcamp was to be called into my company commander’s office. I had two company commanders. I would have preferred none. However, one of them, I was sure was my mother in a blonde wig. There was no escaping her. It was this woman that got in my face when I entered the office. Got in my face and started screaming so bad, I was soon covered with her DNA. MOM??? Oh god. I was in hell. And worse? I started to cry. (Hey!!! I was only 17 and had never been away from home!!) To this day it was not her screaming at me that made me hate her, it was because I cried. I hated her for that. I still do. Maybe you are wondering what she could have possibly been yelling at me for? In her words (that’s right, I still remember them): “What the hell are you doing here? You are too young to be here, you know nothing. You are nothing. I am going to do everything in my power to get you the hell out of here and back to Mommy’s skirts as soon as I can type up the paperwork.” As the tears streamed down my face I had but one thought… The hell you say. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"the hell you say" You remind me of someone in the mirror. and ladies (and gent) I have to do some running today, so I leave the story-telling in your capable hands. But I'll be smiling all day, wondering what treats will be left for me to read tonight. Carry on, ladies. And guys, c'mon, we won't bite (hard). tell me story...whine.... |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
so much reading to catch up on..and like some of you I have this head cold, ear ache, sore throat, runny nose, sneezing coughing thing now, for he past 4 days although it leaves me too dizzy to be sittng here very long...will be back later to read..you are all a joy hugs M |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Susan.... What a story... I was going to just sit back and read this thread without posting anything, however the Boot Camp story got me to "remembering" (as if anyone could ever forget lol) and I figured I would throw my couple of pennies into the mix. I got to Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island South Carolina at 0217 on December 28, 1984. Dad was a Marine, and was a Drill Instructor, so I knew what to expect and what was going to happen... I had also spent periods of time away from the family, and thought I wouldn't get homesick. Man, did I EVER screw that thought up!!!!!! We were originally supposed to fly into Charleston, SC and take a bus in from there, however Charleston got fogged in and the airport got closed, so we flew to the next closest... Savannah, Ga. We got to Savannah at about 9:00 pm and left for PI at around 1:00 am. I was at the very back of an OD green school bus with almost 60 other young men. The Drill Instructors had it in their heads that we were going to be done with in-processing by midnight, and we didn't arrive until after 2:00. They were not happy people. (BTW.. it is even possible for a DI to be happy?) We finally pulled up to the Receiving area next to Second battalion (I was First Battalion, but this is just where the receiving area was.) and this short guy who was as wide at the shoulders as he was tall stepped on the bus. He was very polite and welcomed us to The training depot and wished us a pleasent stay. Then he said something that will stay with me to the end of my days: "When the Drill Instructor gives you the command, you will exit this bus as quickly and as quietly as possible and form yourselves on the yellow footprints you will find at the back of the bus. You will not be the last man off this bus. G-d help the first one of you (lovely young boys) who touches me. Move" Now, mind you, this was all done in a very sociable manner and there was no yelling... even after the "move". As soon as he said to move, 60 kids all dove to the center aisle of the bus and the DI STOPPED!!!!!!!! So, now you have 60 boys who are excited, nervous, and ready to see what Fate has in store for them, who know that they had better not be the last one off the bus, and who had better not touch the drill instructor who has stopped at the top of the steps leading off the bus. Holding back that crowd of boys was the greatest act of strength I had ever seen. While all of this was going on, I was attempting to get to the front of the bus... unfortunately, I had sat in the very last seat on the driver's side of the bus, and had too many kids to get through. The very next thing I knew, I was on my back on the pavement behind the bus with 3 Drill Instructors screaming at me at the top of their voices, because I had the audacity to be laying down. It seems tht the back door of the school bus opened and I was grabbed and thrown onto the pavement. I rolled over and attempted to get to the footprints by using the sprinter's start (having been in track, I knew how!!). I barely began to move when I felt something on my backside, and proceeded to kiss the pavement. It was about 30 feet to the aforementioned footprints, and I spent the entire trip kissing the pavement because some sadistic son- of... uh... because some caring, gentle man was assisting me with my trip by kicking me in the backside every time I wasn't moving fast enough. We finished inprocessing just in time for the Mess Hall to open for morning chow. I, again, got screamed at because I had the audacity to sneeze in the Drill Instructor's Mess Hall, and spent the rest of the time running in place, and then I had to eat duck as we went to the next form of intake. (Eating "duck" is you duck in and duck out, and what you eat is what you get.) The rest of the day is a blur, and before lights out, I was told to awaken the DI the next morning because I had the last Fire Watch. When I opened the door, I saw the DI hanging by his knees from the steam pipes in the office. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be home with my Mommy feeding me waffles, or french toast, or ANYTHING. And that wasn't the last time. BTW, Susan.. I just noticed that we are the same age... funny... you looked much younger. My ex-wife says I never listened to her. At least I think that's what she said [This message has been edited by Ringo (03-11-2004 04:40 PM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
ROFLMAO....OMG Ringo...don't stop THERE! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Goodness gracious!! I wouldn't have survived the bus trip let alone my first night in bootcamp. I'm a whimp I guess. Tell us more Susan and Ringo!! Karen!!! Are you back yet?!! Are you reading these awesome tales? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Reading and happy, here. and before I get to Mrs. Quick? I did have a brief foray into accounting. The teacher's name was Mr. Lymen, and he and I both agreed not to notice if I was there or not. (By a mutual agreement? I just didn't get certified in that subject.) Yep--before there was Mrs. Quick and shorthand--there was accounting. I had no taste for accounting. I did love the method of teaching however, and I really enjoyed the fictional company that they wrote for me. That was how the school worked. They gave us a fantasy business, with phantom employees. At first we were just required to do payroll, but they added later, purchasing, overhead, and various other annoyances. (Actually, I wouldn't know what came next--I never got past payroll.) I could do the math. Sort of. My main problem, however, was that I related to my fictional family--I would look at the paychecks, and even after totalling the hours, I would think, "That's not enough!" And I would juggle then, even the damned FICA to pad the checks so that "these poor belabored people" could have a proper Christmas. I had trouble docking my phantoms too--I just knew that "Mrs. Shwartz" had a drinking problem--she was late every Monday, and left early every Friday. (Nodding here. I knew the signs.) And that poor child Rosa, my god/dess, she fit the profile perfectly for spousal abuse, (can someone talk to her? nevermind, I'll do it) and by the way, that airhole in litigation, Jerry Pritchard? He should be terminated--I strongly suspected sexual harassment--he'd been through so many secretaries--I thought it was obvious. I expained all of this to Mr. Lymen. He looked at me through those thick glasses--so thick that I lost sight of him in them--and asked me, "Miss Hood? What is it that you don't understand?" Frown. I was wondering the same thing of him. Couldn't he see the inner turmoil of the employees of H&R Advertising? So I patiently, one by one, presented their complaints to him, warning him that H&R had become a very unhappy place for most folks to work, and that I thought it could be due to the direct influence of that tyrant of a boss--Mr. Harpings. It was my opinion that Mr. Harpings was a not only a type A personality, but that he had strong tendencies to project his perfectionism (and therefore his failings) onto his employees. I nodded to Mr. Lymen: "You know the type." Mr. Lymen wiped his mouth nervously. "Again, Miss Hood, what don't you understand?" He had little beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, and I helpfully removed his hankie from his top pocket and I was going to dab, but he veered back in alarm. "These are fictional employees. This is a fictional company." OH. Hrmmph. "Oh. So I suppose that means I'm not supposed to care?" Had I been wearing a skirt I would have flounced it at him, but I wasn't, so I settled for a flip of my hair. He was rubbing his head now. I almost felt sorry for him. So I conceded. "Okay. I'll do the damned payroll again, but you should know? I'm starting a union!" He looked so distressed as I protested my conviction: "We're people--with real problems and real concerns to address! We've got rights yanno!" * * * WHAT? He looked at the clock and took another valium anyway. Poor Mr. Lymen. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
And Chrislane...(god that's a beautiful name) you write fancy soul, lady. Susan? This actually startled me: Number two; my mother exists within other people. Nodding. They do that. It's like getting Gremlins wet. Giggle. Ringo m'BUDDY!!!! yayayayayayayay You didn't let me down m'friend. Thank you... I should sleep, but now you guys have me all excited. *battin' eyelashes* hmmmm...we'll see what happens. it's so much fun tho, walking around in others skins....chuckle. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
oh..i was reading through Ringo's story... had me smiling..not because the poor thing got kicked in the bottom..but because it reminded of my grandfather! HAHA...last place my old grandad was stationed was Fort Jackson South Carolina! and well..you guessed it...he was a Drill Sargent!(ok, so spelling is off) i feel so sorry for my poor mom who had to grow up with him! |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Ringo~ *blushing* thank you!! I did get carded for smokes the other day and when the cashier saw "1964" she actually reared back in surprise (Okay, so I am bragging, but I don't care it made my day!!!) Marines huh? They are so much more physical in their punitive actions...However I did get the opportunity to "reflect" on my non-compliance a couple of times by being sent to "Intensive Training" or "IT" (at night and they make you were a black beanie cap like a criminal). IT is the one place that made me cry and yell out for Mommy. They worked you out until your entire body was shaking and you were close to blacking out, then they got in your face and screamed at you to keep your legs up (Anyone know what butterflies are?). There was another time when I got to run laps holding a dummy M16. That was fun. I had moved a finger during formation. Laps were the punishment. Ahhh, yes. I left bootcamp with biceps and boobs. That's right..pushups do give you bigger boobs. *sigh* Karen~ In the 22 years on my own I have ran into my "mother" in others several times. They (and her) no longer have the power they used to. I see them for their faults and I understand better. I smile as I write that because that kind of release is so empowering. But you know that, huh? Okay, who is next with a yummy story? |
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kayjay Member Elite
since 2002-06-24
Posts 2015Oregon |
My dad was born in Poland in 1902 and, as were many of the men of his generation, he ran his household as had his father, with an iron hand. His basic discpline instrument was the leather strop he used for shaving. At about age 8 or so, I hid the strop under some boxes in the garage. When he couldn't find it, somehow he knew it was me and I caught hell anyway even tho' there was no "smoking gun". When spring came and he cleaned the garage, guess what he found. I caught it again. Sigh. Perhaps I figured he'd be happy because now he had two strops so would shave twice as well? Ken Through rubble and trouble and dark of night |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Susan- We had a very similar thing called the Motivational Platoon, although I heard they cancelled it very shortly after I graduated. Thwe Motevation Platoon was where the DI's sent those young recruits whom they felf lacked the proper... um... motivation to successfully complete Boot Camp and become honored, and productive Marines. From what I have heard(thankfully never having been there) they would IPT (Individual Physical Training) the recruits mercilessly. There is an old adage in the Marine Corps that no one ever drowned in sweat. WEll, these uber-sadistic... well, I don't think I can properly call them people... anyhow, they would attempt to disprove that beloved saying. The day would start with a field day of the barracks (Think "spring cleaning" x 20) and then head off to eat their morning chow. Then, they would get back to the barracks and field strip their weapons and make them spotless. After about an hour of that, the "fun" would begin. Fun cinsisted of push-ups, sit-ups, mountain climbers (pushup position, move your feet like you're running), side straddle hops (jumping jacks), running in place (running a marathon), leg lifts (lie on your back, lift your legs about 6" off the deck, spread them shoulder length apart, put them back together and down), 6-90 (leg lifts where you hold your legs 6" off the ground, lift them to 90 degrees, and then back to 6"), and various other activities done in as rapid a pace as the DI's (that's right... more than one telling you more than one thing, and then getting "irritated" that you didn't obey them.) could yell them. Of course, my favorite that my DI's pulledon us (and that I heard they did in the MP) was "dead/alive". The DI would, in the middle of an exercise, yell "Grenade!!" to which anyone exercising would immediately throw themselves on said grenade as to save their DI's life. (His life, after all, was worth more than ours). Then he would yell, "BOOM!!" and we would all flop over onto our backs as the grenade had gone off and killed us, thereby preventing us from infecting the human gene pool. The DI would then yell grenade and boom for a while, making it look to all the world like a school of fish out of water. To add to the confusion, they would ad close order drill (marching), and various other activities outside to assist the recruits in motivating themselves to finish Boot Camp with the proper mindset. As far as the physical exercises went, the next step up from the quarterdeck (the barracks floor) was the sand pit with all the little sand fleas (sand fleas are semi-microscopic gnats that eat everyone alive.). One little trick the DI's added there was "MAKE IT RAIN!!!!! In this maneuver, the recruits would grab handfulls of sand while lying on their backs and throw it into the air... and the good Lord help the recruit who didn't throw enough sand high enough. And then, of course, the recruits would be berated because their uniforms were filthy. And then, as if the physical exercise wasn't enough, there was the mud pit. Marines love their mud. (as an aside, if you want to see the true meaning of happiness, look at a group of Marines after a mud fight) The mud pit, I was told, looked eerily like the punishment that Louis Gosset Jr. gave to Richard Gere in Officer and a Gentleman... except ad a HUGE mud pit to the hoses. And then there was the mud trench, which was about 30 feet long, chest high in mud, and the recruits were forced to navigate while being pelted with water and mud. The story around Parris Island went that most people didn't need more than one or two days in the MP and never went back twice. My ex-wife says I never listened to her. At least I think that's what |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Wow. All of these memories are great to read!! Plus, have you noticed how other's memories jog your own? Duh....yes Chris! I still have a really bad cold which is travelling down to my chest(oh, how I wish I could do push-ups...sigh), and I am slower than usual ....but I will drag myself to the puter, blankey and all just to take a peek. Bless you all!! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Coming to Grips with the Oddities of Life It seems appropriate in all ways that this particular post be left here, as another marker in all things that are good, and very real. I look back on my many failures, and few successes, and realize that the successes outshine the failures in all ways. If not for the first marriage that failed, I would not have two daughters, nor have had the chance to love a step-daughter, and by all of them, be blessed six times over with beautiful grandchildren. If not for the first marriage that failed, I would still be in the armpit of the world, surrounded by nothing more than the same old crowd who are probably still following their Peter Pan lives. If not for the horse that threw me, or the nail I had stepped on that immediately sent dark red veins up my leg; the fact that I was given zero percent chance to be born, let alone live, and I still persisted in getting along this far; the fact that my grandmother’s premonition that “all good girls die young” as she was convinced I would never see my 21st birthday; if not for Mr. Drude, who insisted that I would never be able to speak in front of two people, let alone 250, as I had a terrible stutter; and if not for Mr. Aoki, who truly believed I had a few gifts I hadn’t even uncovered, would I be here now, posting this. If not for the fact that I pride myself on being flexible, and move like Gumby now and then; if not for the fact that I had mononucleosis and know what it’s like to lose three days of one’s life into a netherworld; if not for the fact that I have this [so far] unbreakable sense of HOPE that dwells and swells within me…. I would not be able to say, here and now, thank you, to all of you, for allowing me into your circle. I know this will not be seen by all of the readers, and that’s because this is NOT for all of the readers. It is for this very special sisterhood and brotherhood of poets and friends, that I leave this, my forty-four thousandth post, here, for all of you, as a humble thank you, and a promise to all that as I face again another turning point in my life, and reset my priorities accordingly, that I will not let any of you down, for you have become the family that picks me up when I falter, and are "there" for me, more times than I can count. I love you all. |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
44 thousand posts is a lot of talking... encouraging.. and helping... congrats on that... as for the oddities of life..lol. I simply need to look in the mirror to experience those first hand |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Hey congrats on the 44,000 Karilea! And, it is great to finally see the menfolk popping in with a few words or stories as the case may be. I agree with you Karilea..I wouldn't be have the person I am today without going through the things I have in my life. It builds strong character, makes us humble and forgiving. If I had my life to live over, I wouldn't change a thing. Of course I have such a heavy karma I'll be back many more times... until I get it right. Oooh flashback!!!! One day have Chris tell you about the time she was 'taken back to get her instructions', (she seemed to have lost them along her lifepath), and was helped to go back and retrieve them by a healer/channeler friend of mine..and we didn't think we could get her to come back to earth. True story! We drove along the lake coming back home late that night and our eyes were like saucers! The things that happened out there that night..incredible!! Anyway..off to lunch! |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Ringo~ We do have similar memories..every exercise you describe, we did as well. I am still amazed I made it through.. Karilea~ You are a wonderful, sweet, intelligent woman that I am very grateful to have had the chance to "get to know." So I will exclude myself from your thank you, for you have given me much more than I could ever hope to give to you. (I get to share your Dad to!!).Ron T.~ I know you have stories!!!! Tell, tell, tell! (Have you even noticed how good I have been pretending like I don't see that star????) I think it is way past due for a story from the sisters! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Okay....okay....I will tell the story of retrieving my life's instructions...if no one minds. No? Alrighty then. When my daughter and I were living with my sister and her family in the early 80's, due to my first husband leaving us to relive his youth out west with a younger woman, whew, I was naturally lost and confused. If it hadn't been for Nancylee and her hubby being as kind as they are, I don't know where we would have ended up. Anyway, a tiny psychic/spiritualist lady, not unlike the one in the movie Poltergeist, invited us out to her lovely home on the lake for a reading. There she was standing on the shore tossing bread and calling out to the seagulls, her bunned hair whipping in the wind. She turned and said it was going to be "a good evening....a wonderful evening." That's an understatement. Her awesome diningroom table was set with four glasses. One for her, one for my sister, one for me......and one.....for "the others" if they cared to join us. Hmmmm. This pleasant faced woman took my hand and said, "My dear, you have lost your life instructions and I must take you back to get them." Okie Dokie. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and then she started to speak. She named planets and galaxies and things that I actually could visualize flying by me. I felt light as a feather. When we got to our destination she told me that my guide would now take me to get my life's instructions and not to be afraid. I could see a white-robed man,(I think it was a man)very tall, gently take my hand and we started walking. It was beautiful there. All white and pale blue. Voices...happy, child-like voices. I heard Joyce the psychic warning.."do not go into the Hall of Greats" "It is not for you." But, in my mind I tried to run up the grandiose marble steps. But, my guide stopped me. I felt people, children maybe, peeking out from behind pillars at me. Then I was handed a scroll of some sort tied with gold twine. Back we went through the stars, planets etc. I could hear Joyce saying "when I count backwards from 10 you will be home, refreshed and fine." "10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1." Nope....didn't wanna come back. Didn't wanna face life. She had to count backwards three times before I would come home!! Honestly!! My sister swears to this day that the smile on my face before I "came back" was the same one I had as a child of five!!! When I finally opened my eyes, my sister was white as a sheet. LOL. She thought I was lost in space forever........ha ha haaaa. Needless to say, our drive home was unforgettable. We were so wound up. Scared and excited....giddy. I don't think we slept that night. What if I had stayed in a child-like state? Could I have driven the car? Good grief. Nope...no sleep that night....just like the night I had to be pushed through the tiny bread delivery door when my parents forgot the house keys and....oh, but that's another story. Hugs All. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Okay, Chris...you've gone and done it...what were the instructions? This is a wonderful memory. I've oftentimes wondered what it would be like to be "put under"...do I dare? |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
I have thought about it as well, and decided I would have to do a "Don't ask" list... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
The way it was explained to me Karilea..and Susan, apparently we all receive instructions just before we are born, as to where to go, and what to do next, in life. They are given to us by our spirit guides who also stay with us throughout life. Since they are stored in the subconscious we are really unable to recall them word for word, but, go through life using them.. or not..if you are like Chris who lost hers. She wasn't kidding about the childlike quality her face took on in this 'relaxed state'..it was amazing! She looked like she did when she was five!! And, I say 'relaxed state' because when you 'go under' it truly is just a very deep relaxed state. You will not act like a chicken or bark or undress in front of others, as seen on TV. That is stage hypnosis. Normally, you can open your eyes at any given time in this relaxed state ...but, you really don't want to as it is such a wonderful feeling. What happened with Chris was very different from what I have ever seen, and did frighten me terribly as I thought this 'five year old' was going to have to drive us home in the middle of the night. Gosh...I do hope we aren't being boring or weird or strange..or you think us a couple of dingbats. We just never led normal lives.  Must run..hope that answers your question.. my wizard calls to me from our dungeon. I'd like to hear more from our gracious hostess, Serenity! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
No wonder I'm always being told I need to find some direction - sounds as if I've lost my instructions. I tell you what - if I ever do undergo a process like this? I'm taking Susan's list of what not to ask, and I'm doing it in the same room with all of you, my friends |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Chris? You just reminded me of a lot of stories! *winks* But unfortunately I believe I've told most of my stories regarding my spiritual quest--but if ya'll don't mind the repetition, I don't. With my rotten memory, I tend to do that anyway. With my rotten memory, I tend to do that anyway. *raspberry* to Cap. And I believe I'll actually have a few hours to myself tonight--so hopefully I can a "muse" m'self for a few hours (I said amuse, Ringo, not "abuse") But for now? And Kari, congrats on the 44,000. That's a Master Spiritual Number too! grin |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Yes, it was amazing! In case you're wondering, everything was fine, until... I lost my instructions again during my move back to my own town. I think they just might have been in a bundle of old clothes I donated to charity. Oh well. Someone else is living my life....poor thing. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I'm going to catch up right now, and read these wonderful stories again. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....I feel downright decadently spoiled today! Thanks, so much, And Cap, I've been a good girl too--I haven't begged you once for a story, and I didn't say a word about that lil star either. But I'll be patient. *tapping my toe* |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
"apparently we all receive instructions just before we are born, as to where to go, and what to do next, in life. They are given to us by our spirit guides who also stay with us throughout life." There is a book by Sylvia Brown (is that spelled right?) called, "Book of Dreams" that explains it all.... |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
Susan, Ser... I'm sorry I have no stories to match these nor to even compliment them... mine are far less compelling than the words shared here. I'll take a pass on the stories for now... the star... lol.. one should refer to my application to the DM forum to understand the why... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
...let me find my whip! |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
Here you go Ser... something from memories..cleaned up and fit for presentation here... lol.. In the boundary line of northern Douglas and southern Wright counties, there are a series of springs which feed from the base of limestone bluffs and from steep sided hills. Their waters combine along a stretch of 10 or so miles and becomes the upper end, the source, for Bryant creek. Once, not far from the main springs there existed a trout farm where on Sundays, I remember driving by and seeing families with small children and grey haired grannies in lawn chairs. Fishing by the pound, slick colored rainbows and the occaisional brown would sink bobbers to the screams of unsuspecting children only to be dragged across rough grass and added to the days "catch". Idyllic, perhaps, in the ways of then to sit in sun soaked grass and gather the family for outings. Picnic lunch spread on ground and kool-aid stained mouths in grin, it all seemed so simple. In time the trout farm fell to waste. Families no longer fished by the pound for fun and those children grew into the men and women who fought in Nam or protested the war. It seemed there was more division in family than unity as grannies were stored in care facilities, TV ignored the need for touch, but presented us daily with the body counts while behind black bags were loaded onto transports, or maimed and broken men were helped aboard. Ugly times from my mind, but a few of the trout survived in the cold clear waters and from time to time, when politics could be put aside, or the worries of day to day forgotten, they could be stalked. At the time, I thought the cast of light lure along brush filled riffles and the sting of cold water on thighs to be great sport. Rarely the flash of pink sided trout on end of line, but if so lucky, a thing to hold in bragging right next trip to the local cafe. later I began to wonder at the trout... and know the feel of those things in our nature which cause us to bite when hungry. Betrayed by our own nature, we snap the bait and find ourselves hooked. barb gouging us with each turn of head and attempt at run, till the line played out for us is drawn taut and we find the pressure to follow more than we can resist. In the end, we find ourselves like the trout wearied and worn;caught. I felt that way at 16, married and a child on the way, and it wasn't until years later I began to understand it was truly not how it was. I had made decisions, and those were mine to live with. The hook and bait mine to ignore or to swallow, and along the line, stopped hating the fisher.... and only wishing for swift water with deep rock lined pools... to hide myself in. Today, I fish when I can. Along brush filled stream and rock pool casting light lures in search of the ellusive I find peace, but learned long, long ago.. catch and release. seems the trout farm has it right, we always pay by the pound for our catch. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Cpat. wonderful words you have given us to ponder. More memories flood my mind. I too, found myself married and a baby on the way long before I had ever dreamed. But, everything was "my" decision...nothing was pushed upon me. That is why they call it "free will" I guess. Funny how it takes us so long to understand. Hmmmm.... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Thank you Ron.. You do tell a story so well..and always leave me with a soft smile and a different way of looking at life..I like that. I also like.."kool-aid stained mouths in grin" (memories there....) and "catch and release" (I know someone who taught me this way of fishing also.) |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
catch and release... Yes. and yet? Memories of going hungry are what cause me to fish beyond my limit. I need to learn too. A little more faith and a little less fear. thanks, Cap |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
And now to tie some loose ends...er? Somebody might want to fetch Duncan. Though I confess the SWAT team story is a bit anti-climactic. But, as you ladies well know--foreplay is everything. It was an unusual day for us at the compound. We all woke early on a Saturday morning, relatively free of hangovers too. I woke up hungry to the smell of...was that breakfast? Wow. Cool. I was a little concerned though. It could just be that Twisted #1 had woke up hungry and cooked breakfast for herself. So I stumbled into the kitchen, still half-asleep but curious and found, Oh boy! "Breakfast" was indeed being served up for all. "Toby" had come in from his offshore job--and he'd returned the favor of a few meals and a place to crash by buying us poor wimmenfolk some groceries, and he went the one step further to cook for us too. "Toby!" I smiled with glee, hugging him. He just grinned and handed me a cup of coffee. Toby was a serious coffee drinker--he carried around his own personal mug with him and once I made the mistake of washing it for him. I had to bleach that sucker clean too. To my dismay, he'd said I'd ruined it. He liked his coffee gnarly, and he wanted that grunge stain on the inside of the mug. I'd shuddered that day but thought, "okay". Shrug. One less dish to wash. But here he was in his bike leathers, happy to be home, and "rich" with a paycheck. He seemed rather proud of himself too. He usually only showed up when the check was gone. But here he was this morning, a biker gentleman, cooking breakfast for his beloved twisted sisters at "The Compound." I nodded at the stove, impressed with the layout and winked at "twisted #1", who was lounging on her daybed, wearing her standard uniform "teddy" looking like this happened everyday. How could she possibly deserve less? He'd even brought the paper in, sparing us the long walk through the parking lot. Ah...this had all the beginnings of a good day. I let the dogs out (our family of dawgs had increased to two now--"Howard" had joined "Bubba" as one of our babydogs--and yep, that's right, his name was Howard Johnson. He was most appropriately named too, as he just "checked in" one evening. Anyhoo, (grin) in answer to the famous question--it was I who let the dawgs out. Toby decided to stink up the bathroom with his morning constitutional, and I grabbed the rest of the paper before it disappeared, wanting the Bentwood rocker for my own before anyone else called "shotgun." Twisted #2 had awakened by this time, and she was nonplussed by the surprise. (Nothing, but nothing throws her.) She had snatched a piece of bacon before the kids demolished the rest. I looked up from the headlines only when I heard Twisted #1 address someone through the window. "What the...?" I stood and I could see the source of her confusion. There was a member of the ATF crouched below the window, in full riot gear, looking at us hard, he had his finger over his lips, saying "sssssssshhh." I looked into the yard then, and saw the unmarked cars parked all around the compound. I guessed that their were four of them--oh, make that five, another had pulled in as I counted. "I think the Johnson's are in trouble." said twisted #2 with her characteristic nonchalence. What the hell? Shrug. She was hungry and intended to eat, so she fixed her plate, ignoring the drama playing out in the yard. I watched the agents being joined by detectives from the local police force, noting with horror that in their haste, they'd left the doors of their unmarked vehicle open. Oh no... Bubba. My beloved Bubba was out there--and? *wince*--Bubba loved to go "bye-bye." I was going out there. I had to save my babies! He had just begun barking too, (he was parking lot born and bred and accustomed to the comings and goings of cars) but his barking frightened me--I was afraid they would shoot him to silence him. So I ran out there, knowing that if there was a car with open doors, I could likely find Bubba sitting happily inside, wagging his tail with anticipation. And yes, there he was, in a brown chevy of all things, and I was completely oblivous to my own appearance too. (I was wearing one of those home-made togas which I just bragged about earlier.) It was in this state, that I startled a small band of ATF agents, as I hollered pitifully, "Bubba--come!" knowing "Howard" would follow him. I won't say I heard any click of guns, but I was told by twisted #1 later that her own cop had remained focused beneath her window, his "riot"gun trained on the back door of the Johnson's shotgun house. "Who are you people?" An agent asked, incredulous but flashing his badge as I replied: "We live here. Who the hell are you?" Twisted #2 was still calm, standing in the door, eating her breakfast, saying between bites: "Karen? I think you should come in now." OH. I agreed--but not without my babies. I hustled the dawgs inside, and we were just, "oh wow", watching a raid unfold before our very eyes. Then an officer knocked at our door. "We're going to go "in" now and for your own safety, we strongly urge you all to take the kids, and-the-dogs"--he had looked at me pointedly--"along with yourselves to the back of the house. We're not expecting trouble, but better to be safe." Of course! So we all took our coffee cups and headed dutifully to the bedroom of Twisted #2. Smile. Actually? no. Toby and Twisted #2 were not going to miss this. So they made the motions, twisted 2 even "stomped" to the back with us, and crept out to join Tobe behind the curtains. The rest of that morning's play unfolded relatively without drama. The law officers kicked in the back, side, and front doors of the Johnson's home simulataneously. What occurred inside, we shall never know. We watched as they assembled the sleepy family who lived "upfront" on the side of the house. I saw each member of the family shaking their head as if to say, "I don't know" as they were questioned. "Robert" Johnson was not at home. (That's right, blues fans--Robert Johnson had disapeared; and he left no forwarding address.) Sheesh. It was all over, except for the questions. Now we shook our heads, watching twisted #1 outside in her standard teddy uniform, offering coffee to the officers and cooing, "What did he do? Really? I had no idea..." as she batted her eyelashes. Toby was disgusted and twisted #2 just shook her head. "I'm going back to bed" she said. * * * Nothing, and I mean no thing "shook" my sister. I just hugged my dawgs happily as the kids finished breakfast. Just another day in the life of the twisted sisters. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
...dang...we just have to be related!  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Karen? Keep telling. Flashes of the real thing...I love it... Cpat? I didn't get to read yours until after I just got done with another flash of my own. Hope you don't mind, but it seems to parallel yours just a tad (or is that ...ba ba dum "tadpole" )...only of course, you know us women...we talk a bit more ... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I should have known…. My family had gone on a last “full” vacation with everyone home, before my imminent marriage to a young man from another state. We had already gone past the “silent treatment” of my Mom’s when he had announced he would be whisking me off some 2000 miles, [but that’s another story] and this was the trip of only kin, a few months before the fatal day. The trip is another story in itself…suffice to say, we’ll stick to the failure part of what I like to call “all the warning signs”. Seems half-way through our trip, my intended’s friend called to let us know that my fiancé would be all right, only the new Opal had been totaled, but since he had fallen asleep at the wheel, he wasn’t hurt, just shaken up and spending the night, ah, in the arms of the Air Force M.P.’s special holding tank. My folks decided not to break that bit of news to me until we were almost home – since he hadn’t died, wasn’t terribly hurt or even disfigured, they decided I didn’t need to worry about anything until after we got back. [Being a Peter Pan sort of fellow as he was, he was terribly likable – they just didn’t hold out much chance for this to “pan” out, if you’ll forgive the pun…but they also knew that I had already taken a stance of putting up for the underdog, so they continued to hope against hope that I would see the light.] That was red flag number 1. Red Flag Number 2 came by two weeks before the wedding. The fiancé decided he would just “take off” for a little trip on his own. No phone calls, no “I want to get away by myself”, no nothing. His friends didn’t know where he had taken off to, his family didn’t know (they were several states away, true, but he hadn’t called them, either) and so, I was a bag of frazzled nerves for three solid days. When he finally drove in, the mix of kill and hug was so strong I didn’t know if I’d kiss him to death…or strangle him in such a hold as I would put on him. Again, his little boy outlook on life swung me over until I forgave him, and put aside the three days of sheer hell I had gone through with worry. Red Flag Number 3. The night before the wedding, as I lay in my bed in my parent’s home, excited, exhausted, knowing insomnia would take hold, I tried to picture his face. Nothing but a blank. Nothing. I tried to picture faces of other young men I had dated. Oh, I could see them so clearly, I could even see their pimples and blackheads and cowlicks. But could I picture in my mind, my fiancés face? Not on a bet. Which scared me. I wondered what it meant, and finally decided that it must be what they referred to as the wedding jitters. At eighteen, I really wasn’t paying attention. I did think…I want out. But then…what would we do? All of this food. All of these people!! I couldn’t let them down…and the guilt, self laid mind you, but still, guilt, began. Oh, God. Embarrass my folks? I didn’t dare! This wasn’t a whim! This wasn’t something that was just decided last week! This had been two years in coming. I didn’t HAVE to get married, I WANTED to get married, right? Right? Wrong. But the guilt of thinking maybe it WAS a mistake after all… How could I explain this? It had to be jitters. Red Flag Number Four. The day of the wedding grew glorious. The weather was perfect, the smiles were all in place, Dad was still cracking jokes and Mom lost her voice. Nerves, decidedly, or had she screamed to the heavens the night before to somehow show me a way out? I’ll never know. It didn’t come to me until MUCH later that the scenario laid out above was quite probably true. So the doctor prescribed a relaxant for Mom [which really kicked in with the champagne…but I’m getting ahead of the story]…and we proceeded on to the church where I would dress. The first thing my brother, who was one of my groomsmen, said, was “how many people did we invite, anyway?” We figured ½ of the number invited would show. We were not prepared to see the church overflowing. That’s how much my parents were loved. We figured 125-150 as we had sent out 300 invitations…over 250 people had come. Mom refused to figure out how we would feed them all…somehow it would work out. (It did, but I’m getting ahead of myself)… So, my family is helping me dress, all of the ladies primping the bride in the most modest of dresses, hand made, hand sewn, all on the budget of the day (for Mom and Dad were going through a financial crisis that we had not seen coming down the pike) and the festivities were, decidedly, on the cheap. But it looked good. Then someone said, “get the bride ready, it’s time.” That’s all it took. I froze. Voices went far and away, down some tunnel that had suddenly appeared. I could see everyone, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I literally froze. My grandmother’s voice came through the fog, it must have been fog, it had gotten so cold in the room. “Bring the smelling salts.” The sharp whiff jogged me, and I faltered, and lagged. Arms were under me, getting me to a chair. Suddenly, from somewhere, a sharp resolve that felt like a pin prick bounced me out of the chair and it was “let’s get it done” and I felt as if I were going to a beheading. I was making a mistake. But I couldn’t back out of it now. Not with the church overflowing. Not with everyone who was waiting. I wasn’t Katherine Ross, and there was no Dustin Hoffman. I was making my bed. I was going to learn, as time took its toll, you can’t always stick up for the underdog. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ah yes Karilea. Don't upset the applecart...don't be silly.....don't act like such a baby.....don't you dare let everyone down. Especially, don't do what your gut is telling you to do, while your heart is being squeezed like a sponge. Don't! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah Chrislane...I figured you would be the first one here, and understanding as only you could. I swear, I listen to those red flags now, girl. I am amazed at how much they waved back then, and all I was doing then, and still doing somewhat today, is trying to please "others". So many say...get a grip girl, about time to concentrate on yourself. I truly do not know how, with the one exception, of sticking my nose into my own writing, and being tenacious about that. Don't you know, though, that the little act of that alone, brings a whole plethora of problems of its own... sigh. Sorry. I'm 52. My meow is turning [finally] into a roar of some sort. I love you too. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
I have really enjoyed this journal and tried to stay quiet – and so far I have been doing that but now Karilea, you've really got me going remembering one marriage of mine in particular. (I have two favorites LOL) We will skip husband No.1, and jump to Husband #2 for now, anyhow, Karilea you reminded me of the cement mixer that was going on inside me the day I married that man and should have listen to my inner voice. I will really try to make this a brief Reader's Digest version. It was February 14th (Valentine's Day,) and we were getting married by a Reverend James Valentine of West Vancouver. Well you would think right there I should have run would you not? My next sign came when we were at the front of the alter. First, the minister backed up into a fan that was busy running to keep me from fainting I believe he said. His robe got caught in the blades, and it was torn off in part exposing his wedding outfit consisting of boxer shorts, and knee-high argyle socks (won't ever forget those socks,) that were being held up with those cute little garter things that tacky men tend to love as much as their combovers. In about 5 minutes (that seemed like a hour,) the minister finally returned in a new robe but by this time I am just chomping at the bit to either get this over with or I am going to bold, when right in the middle of some promise or other I was making, the power went out! To this day I still think that was a message from God, as he knew I was telling a fib and wouldn't keep the promise. Well...not only did that mean no power there at the church full of people, it also meant no power at my future sister-in-law's house where all the expensive Yugoslavian food (that I didn't even like,) was being prepared, for people I didn't really care for. One good thing though, the candlelight was very pretty for the remainder of that wedding. So I bet I had the first take-out pizza wedding ever that I am aware of anyway! We had leftovers for weeks I swear! Now this part is the absolute truth and my son will swear to it on my behalf as he sure reminds me often enough…when it came my time to say, "I do," right out loud I said, "I do, but for the life of me I am having trouble figuring out why!" When my divorce went through just a little over two years later, I vowed to not ever care what people thought again, and to this day so far that it is working! I was more concerned about letting everyone down that day, or upsetting his Mother who was doing all the food, that I didn’t listen to my inner voice. That lesson paid off in paving future decisions in my life in a positive way. So something good came out of it in the long run.. Karen is privy to my wonderful Italian adventure with Husband #2, which I will share another time, if you guys promise not to laugh too much. Today I'm only moving clouds, tomorrow I'll try mountains. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
"I do, but for the life of me I am having trouble figuring out why!" ~*~ I'll try to stick to the Reader's Digest version next time, myself...in telling, and in marrying...ROFLMAO... In all seriousness [get serious folks] this is the best therapy I've ever encountered. So what? if folks come in and say "Oh REALLY????" So what!? I'm not paying for this...and it's what could be used against me in court anyway if push came to shove, so why not take the free version and let it come out, as needs be? I mean heck...I only get an hour at $175 a shot....if I WERE to go to a person who would say..."Yes, Ms. Rilling, I will see you again in two weeks, and we will go over the reasons why you felt you needed to always stick up for the suck up underdog who your parents felt was not good enough for you to begin with." Stories...are stories. The best of them? Teach others the pros and cons of life. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
 Good Morning!! I can't tell you what a wonderful day it is! Oh the things I have planned for myself today...Karen~ Believe it or not, I have a SWAT story also... Master Ron? Did I ever tell you I grew up on a chain of lakes? (N. Indiana)...I fished but oh I hated it..I wanted to run..not sit in one place waiting for something to come to me... I can't wait to read more stories (I really enjoyed the husband stories, between us we might have managed to gather all the "bad apples") I will try to be back later..right now? I need to enjoy the sunshine on my face... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karilea - you get a whole hour with yours?!! Gee, I only get 40 minutes and generally my therapist enjoys telling me stories of when he and his wife lived on an old estate in England until my time is up! HELLO....CAN I SPEAK NOW PLEASE?!  Strange isn't it how "no" is such a tiny word, yet feels the size of a watermelon when you try to get it out of your mouth. Now Sharon...ROFL.....what a wedding day that was!! Oh, do tell about the Italian! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Chris, that would be IF I were to go to one. I can only imagine what they cost...it's all relative to the state one lives in - and that's a pun in and of itself. I live between the thought of "and you think YOU have problems" to "why are you wasting my time?" to..."you need to get out of THAT..." So...since I have all of you? LOL...it's YOUR choice to click and read...or just scurry past. For me...it's great, just laying it all down. And then walking away from it. |
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scorpio Member Ascendant
since 2002-10-02
Posts 5178right...there |
Ron, there is nothing like stalking fish to re-focus one's mind. I have a favourite place where the fish know my name. And I too practice catch and release. believe in what your heart feels... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Gawd this really feels good to get it all out, sort of cleanses the soul, at no charge! *Ser you ain't gonna send us a bill later are ya?* No way can I top Sharon's story about husband number one! I laughed so hard I ...well.. My Hubby #1 I met right off the boat...literally, from Germany. I taught him that driving the wrong way down a One Way street would indeed get him a traffic ticket, as it was NOT the name of a street...LOL...and also helped him with his English. He in turn taught me how to ballroom dance, be a good haus frau, and together we produced two beautiful, blond, blue eyed children. We both agree now we should have remained just friends..it would have worked out better than getting married. Flashback...one strange thing..and Chris can attest to this.. He enjoyed it when Chris was staying at our place which she did a lot to babysit, and would have us play this game.. Chris and I would get on the floor and pretend we were tigers..and he would in turn pretend he was the lion tamer and crack a pretend whip over our heads. I really never thought much of it until years later Chris and I were chatting and she mentioned how odd it was. Gee...this feels SOOOO good! On with my Saturday!! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Just remembered! Husband #1..is the one who talked me into giving birth to our daughter in a Volkswagon! Volkswagon of America was giving out College Scholarships to anyone who would dare to give birth in one. I chickened out in the hospital parking lot at the last minute and they came running with a stretcher to get me. I must have been....and still am... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
oh my god...I need some coffee now. And I thought that I had accomplished some olympic style maneuvers in a Volkswagon... I've got so much yummy reading to *ahem& "digest", and I just skimmed through it and I'm already cracking up! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee coffee. sleepy grins (and yes, I KNOW what time it is, serenity typed grumpily) |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ah, yes the "lion tamer game" ... it's all coming back to me now. Especially the time NancyLee and I were kneeling upright on the sofa,pawing at the air with her Hubby #1 waving his belt in circles above his head shouting "Up.up...good cats!" in his german accent. That must have seemed so strange and possibly perverse to the neighbour who just happened to be walking her dog and passed the curtainless window!! She stood frozen on the spot, dog tugging at the leash. LOL. I find the oddest thing about that time was, we weren't doing drugs or even drinking!!!  |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
LMAO!!! From the red flags to the "whips" of the lion tamer--all of this is priceless! (Mysteria, you must tell the story about the Italian now, too.) And Nance? You're expecting a bill from moi? I should be paying ya'll for the great medicine of all of this laughter... I'd just like to ask one question of you and Chris (for the guys, since I know they want to know)-- When ya'll were playing the "lion-tamer" game, um, what were ya'll wearing? |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
~smiling~ at you all M |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
What were we wearing? Ummm...it was quite some years ago....let me see....no, the bee costume was for something else...feather boa?...no..no...umm....gee, I can't remember Karen. Maybe NancyLee can recall. Hee hee.  |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Heh heh...I'll never tell. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Okay, okay I was gonna tell ya! Just feel stoopid telling this to the world actually My close friends in here know this story already but Nancy Lee, even I can top Husband #2 with my Husband #1 story, but if we go to #3 it only gets ugly so let’s go back to #1. Okay picture this it was 1965, and two newlyweds are not only tired, but very excited when they see the exquisite villa they are actually going to be staying at for a week. The Villa was owned by a family at the time, who loved very ornate things, so therefore the fixtures in Le Casellacce were all gold or gold-plated I supposed. Bill said he was going to go for a walk around the grounds so I decided to have a bubble bath in the fabulous bath that was actually going to be mine (or so I thought for the next week.) This was a lovely private villa on top of a big hill near a place called, Contignano, and to give you an idea where – that is where they filmed the English Patient (the movie) years later so you might remember it from the movie. Anyway…there I was all those wonderful bubbles and hot water, feeling like I simply had died and gone to heaven, when I decided for some ungodly reason to fiddle with the taps with my toes. All to soon unfortunately my big toe got stuck in the stupid swan’s mouth and the harder I tried to get it out, the worse my situation got. After some time I started to go a little crazy, not to mention I was tired out letting out cold water and putting in more hot, to speed up the process of looking like a prune. Where the heck was Bill anyway I wondered (only later to find out he was sitting outside on the lawn wondering what was going on inside when a fire truck came up the hill, while I was in this mess!) I couldn’t reach the phone and obviously I couldn’t stand so I started yelling! Eventually a maid showed up, and with an exclamatory “Momma Mia!” she disappeared to return with a man in tow, carrying a plunger for goodness sake, what was he planning to stuck that toe out of there, and there I was in my birthday suit. I started yelling again, “towel, towel, please, towel” (and me without that dang Italian/English dictionary.) I now think they were enjoying my discomfort but can’t prove it, because I did not get my towel, but they did finally leave. So … I figured just relax and Bill will be back soon and he rescue me. Nope – in comes the Fire Department or two firemen anyway, and one is kind enough to hand me his opened shirt, which I take gladly. I should like to mention that we could use a few firemen like those ones here I might add. No way was my toe going to come out of that tap even all greased up, and now my foot was swollen. So, one fireman stands up and begins to smash the tiles on the wall, oh great, now I have my foot back but I also have a gold swan sucking on my big toe! The cute fireman stays while the other one leaves and returns with a small saw of some sort, and tries to explain what he going to do, which I don’t get, and start yelling, basically, “No way!” In came the owner, his wife, and at this point I am surprised no one brought his or her dog with them. The fireman explains to him, he tells me, and the solution it seems is to use the saw to take the heavy tap off so they can put my foot in ice to get the swelling down to get it off, made sense I guess in theory. However it didn’t work! So, this brilliant fireman decides to cut it off, and proceed to cut it off all right and also cut my toe! So, to make this story (which trust me could be WAY longer as short as I can,) my first day in Tuscany on my honeymoon was spent in the emergency ward getting stitches on my toe, attached to the foot that was to climb those hills I didn’t climb all week as I had my foot up most of the time. The clincher was that when we left we were handed a bill for restoring the wall, the labour costs, the costs associated with replacing that ugly gold tap thing with the swan on it, and the cost to launder the fireman’s shirt for crying out loud, which was probably cleaner than it ever was having spent all that time in a bubble bath! It didn’t matter to them that the tap was poorly designed and could accommodate a toe quite easily without any effort if one was more careful, and they were only concerned I had destroyed the stupid swan, go figure! We or rather I was further humiliated to find out we had made their local paper and I was quite the laugh about town. When we got to the airport to go home some woman came up to me, actually squeezed my cheeks (like your worst aunt used do,) laughed and walked away without me understanding a word I knew what she was laughing about. My husband was not laughing trust me. I learned soon what did make him laugh and decided to let him go laugh himself silly without me to enable him to do it, but that is another story! Today I'm only moving clouds, tomorrow I'll try mountains. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
smiling wide here--I still say you went to extraordinary lengths to keep your feet in the air! gleeful hugs, Shar! thank you! shaking me head yet again--and that was just the honeymoon? What could you possibly do for an encore? |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Cook for him and his family? Trust me I tried to burn the house down many a time before I actually learned to cook. I have as you know Karen, many stories but enjoy this inter-action very much and will wait to share as time goes by. Lub ya |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and this must be the place... http://www.italiantownandcountry.com/content.asp?ID=329 day-um..... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I spend most of my life thinking that there is something terribly wrong with me. What's left of my life, I spend convinced. I sit here sometimes, pondering the keys & alphabet that comprise this keyboard, as though there is a code I've yet to figure out. Sometimes I feel like an old black jazzman, dropping ashes sideways and picking words like music notes, thinking "yeah, I'll keep that" and typing as if I were taking notation. I miss my glass of Johnny Black. I miss the guys in the band. I wish I knew how to play piano. I saw David yesterday, though it wasn't something I planned. I'd gone to bring some things to the house I'm moving to, and while I was there, I thought I'd walk a bit. So I walked to the corner drug store to buy myself a new face (cosmetics--half off) and on the way, I saw his wife. Um, his ex wife. OR? His fiance'? As soon as he gets divorced from his second wife, he'll re-marry the first--that's if he gets custody of the baby, which shouldn't be a problem since she's facing charges of attempted murder--er, she wanted, tried, but failed to kill David. The second wife. The first wife had long been cleared of those charges. And they were in love again. I asked David once, very casually, "Tell me, Dave, are they like this when you meet them, or do ya drive them nuts?" He sighed. "I guess I drive them nuts." "It's okay," I smiled and hugged him. "George makes me walk." WAKAWAKAWAKA But anyhoo-- his wife (once removed) walked with me, and just for the occasion, I bought a six pack of Beck's. (Oh shaddup, I was going for the beer anyway, but it was a fine excuse.) So we walked back to his house then, and she let me in, enjoying showing me around. Nice...I nodded. It looked like David. A lot of the necessary standard rooms, but? he had a huge back room, filled with sound equipment, and the walls were half-tacked with carpet. Smile. He was starting his studio. That made me happy. He's a gifted musician and a better writer--I just wish...wince. Well, we argue over method alot. I saw the mix board, NOT being utilized--and grinned noting the computer mix set up he boasted in there. I told him he would. His wife was talking but I didn't hear a word she said as I just drank it all in. What's this? I spied on some half written notes on the keyboard and she didn't miss a beat as she shut it, still talking about wife #2. The back wall was jalosey windows, and I saw a stool and an ashtray, so I took my cue and sat. I cranked the windows open, and put my feet up, lighting a cigarette. "How did you know that's where Dave always sits?" wifie asked. "I'm psychic." I grinned, blowing my infamous smoke. She shook her head and said "yer a trip" as we both heard Dave come through the door. Dave always looks good, even though he doesn't think so. He began going bald at 24, but bless him, he had the sense not to comb over, much less forward--and he cut his ponytail lest he be termed a "bennie franklin." I love David, but for an artist? He's just a tad too serious, and I tell him this often too. I told him once, after he'd played a striking set of Rick Wakeman ala YES, that he was 'technically correct', but next time how about having some [expletive] fun? You'd think he would quit asking me for my musical opinion by now. But? NO. "I wrote a new song," he told me, happily. He put the groceries down on the counter. "Give me a hug first," I teased. He looked dismayed. "GIVE-ME-A-DAMNED-HUG." So he did, cringing. (He is like that.) Wifie was laughing. "come give it a listen," he said. "Dave...?" I was warning him. "You know we can't do this..." "I'm completely confident this time." He beamed at me. He let 'er rip. Hmmm. Not bad. Not bad at all. This had a very distinctive tone, the beats sounded like a mix of something african and the, "what was that?" an accordian almost, with like this reggae flavor too. Nice. I raised my eyebrows and nodded, listening. Interesting jump there--from 4/4 to 4/6 and sifted softly back to 4/4 and then a dramatic drop to 3/4 rhythms....wow. "Very nice 'intro' Dave!" I was so relieved that it was good. "I can't wait to hear the rest!" Uh oh. He was scowling. "That was it." Oh. OH. "Well, how come?" I was honestly surprised. "You have the facilities now--not like you're paying by the minute." "That's it because--that is it." Damn I did it again. I swear to you all I try, I really do, to say nothing but the positive to David, but it seems like everytime...sigh. (Do you have someone like this in your life?) It leaves me feeling so socially inept and just damned lonely. Sigh. "So what are you doing in our neck of the woods?" he changed the subject glumly. "I'm moving in." I smiled brightly. I winced noticing him wince--only I hid mine better. There goes the neighborhood... But "wifie" hugged me. * * * sigh. I can hardly wait. |
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
"Give us a story,"... her entreat. I've read this thread and experienced the pains and pleasures of each of your anecdotes through your own personal introspections. I thank you, each and every one for all you're sharing... "You MUST have some stories; everyone has stories..." her insistence. I've spent each and every hour since serenity's personal request delving within to choose a "story" that would be of interest. Mind you, I KNOW I've got stories - One doesn't exist in this world for half a century without collecting one or a few personal remembrances of significance, after all... But what to say? Tell a humorous quip from a silly moment in life? That's the safest venture for sure. That's entertainment of sorts, yes? OR - Share something from beneath the mirthfully painted concrete exterior? What's the true color of mirth, after all? Who blends life's hue? Did you know that tossing too many shades into the mix eventually renders the emulsion a muddy brown? No matter, it's concrete beneath, after all... Glossy? Middle-of-the-road Semi-gloss? Flat finish? Still thinking about just how many coats to scrape down, serenity... My eyes downcast lest passers-by might see A glimmering uncast that may have shown What lies beneath the calloused flesh of me. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Willy Wonka: Don't you know what this is? Violet Beauregarde: By gum, it's gum! Willy Wonka: Wrong! It's the most fabulous sensational gum in the whole world! Violet Beauregarde: What's so fab about it? Willy Wonka: This little piece of gum is a three course dinner. Mr. Salt: Bull. Willy Wonka: No, roast beef. But I haven't got it quite right yet. Yanno? Sure you do. Tell us a story. |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
I just got around to reading the latest editions to the journal, and I must say that I got the wide range of reactions: laughter, shock (well, OK... feigned shock, but still...), and total enjoyment (and a slight disturbance at imagining the stately ladies of the blue pages in feather boas and bee suits...lol). It was jsut what I needed for a waaaayyyy too early Sunday morning after the Saturday night before. And Cpat... married at 16?? I wasn't responsible enough to operate the remote control, much less be married (well, some things don't change). I doff my wildly out of style lid to ya. Karen.. Shouldn't the ATF have gone to look for Robert at "Sctatch's place??? And that story about the musician??? Man, does that ever hit too close to home. I am that neurotic musician/songwriter that asks friends for their opinions and never believes them whatever the answer. There is no "right" answer with me. When it comes to deciding which cover tunes to throw into a show, there's no one better than me at coming up with the most impossible song to play that is guaranteed to get the audience slamming (like Tragedy, by the Bee Gees for a heavy metal crowd). Ask me for which of my songs to do, and the answer is the same... NONE. Classic example: The largest crown I have ever played to was 2,300 opening for a well known metal act that came through town. The band and I sat around deciding on the set for this one particular show, knowing we would have almost an hour to fill. At the insistance of EVERY member of the band, our manager, my son, and the girlfriends (one of the very few open rehearsals), we threw in a song that I had written with the singer and that we had been working on. This thing is a mix of Iced Earth, and Motorhead, with just a touch of Megadeth, and a System of a Down melodic break in the middle. I finally relented, and the song was in. The night of the show, we got to that one song (second to the last) and the audience when completely nutz. We got off stage, and the band that we were opening for complimented us on the last part of the show (they had seen the last 3 songs) and especially loved that song of mine. That was almost three years ago... I still hate it because the song sucks. You gotta love that musician ego, eh? My ex-wife says I never listened to her. At least I think that's what |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
nodding tho...I am that guy's greatest fan too. I hate when he asks me to listen to anything, because even if I say NOTHING--he is already oiling the whips for flagellation. I'm a nice lady, I really am, but my eyes don't lie...he always knows. And that song? Couldn't have sucked. As I told Dave, people know when they are rocked. nodding (somebody send me to bed? yikes has it been days????) |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Good Sunday Morning Folks! Mercy, mercy me. I think that just maybe, all of our lives are entangled in one huge book, that we will not see till we have passed over. Because.....well cause then we will have all of the time in the world to read it. It doesn't have a beginning really ... or an end ... and that's the point .... smiles, frowns, tears, death's, births, weddings, divorces, pain and suffering, joy and elation....we have ALL experienced at sometime in our lives. So? Why not share? Somewhere ... someone else is reading and thinking.."hey, that reminds me of the time I.." Now, that's where it gets really cool. Why does a stranger's story hit home with so many others? Write on everyone! Right on!!! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Chris? "Somewhere in my youth or childhood... I must have done something good" Ser?~ Please, get some sleep. I think we really are kinfolk. I love you guys!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Chrislane? I'm not ignorning you over here--for some reason my mail to you keeps bouncing back.  You have another addy? and I'll get some rest (or at least pretend to) I love you all so very much! Thanks for yesterday you guys. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Karen, I told you at the Chat that I just found your thread Friday or yesterday...can't remember which. I've finished reading almost all of it now. And it is all (as Karilea said) a keeper. It's so real and full of heart. You all know that I love that. I've seen and done a lot of things in my life and have learned a very important lesson...finally. That lesson is that whatever a person says or does, it should all come from their heart. And be done because it's what they want to do...not what everybody else wants them to do. That's the only way true happiness will ever be found, I believe. I've spent almost my whole life trying to please other people.....and never could accomplish it no matter how hard I've tried. In fact, I still find myself trying to please others sometimes. Well, I've got a lot of stories that I could tell. I'll bet some of them ya'll would never believe about me and my life. Some of them are sad, but I've also had a whole lot of fun in my life, too....or they were to me at the time. LOL It's time for me to go to bed now, but I just might get up the nerve to reveal some of those stories to ya'll one day. HeeHee Goodnight, everybody....dream sweet dreams.  |
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
PdV - There's lots more to go - You're embarking upon an exciting journey... and much of your story mirrors mine, btw... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
It seems that everyone's mirrored slivered moments reflect somewhat on my own. I was that shy kid...I lived in the country [sort of] but it was far and enough away from the "town kids" that I had several years of weekends of no friends... amazing how we look back on this, we see them as stones in our road...or stepping stones by which we proceeded. Looking forward to your next tale, PdV...and another husband, Mysteria...and oh by the way, Nan...your pink peanut packing styrofoam poem is sending smiles your way. Big hit in the first three classes. I'm on lunch break - and will head back to the last of the four classes shortly...it's been a very good day. We may have a plethora of pubescent poets wanting to join our ranks soon... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
PdV, Nan? Now ya'll know I'm not one to argue (guffaw) but I know stories when I smell 'em, and those are stories. I understand that some might not be as comfy with this as others, so I apologize for begging--I AM annoying when I beg (just ask "The Wiz" )I just love people and I love finding out about them--I'm recalling now, a friend that my husband worked with (Ya'll remember spiked?) My hubby worked with him for two years and within ONE week of being introduced to Rich I knew the names of his children, how old they were then, his favorite color(s) and how many siblings he had. My husband said that women are just much more verbal than men--I dunno about all of that--but it seems to me that I must have done some listening too. But thank you both being so sweet about my being so pushy. I would love to hear more, of course, but I didn't type that. Ringo? We want more "war" stories of the road too! And nodding, I know most of them can't pass guidelines, but surely there's one or two that can be toned down? *battin' eyelashes* I'm off to answer my e mail now.(keep an eye out for me Chris!) ta ta toodles for now! and Sunshine? a plethora of pubescant poets? shaking my head and grinning...gotta love the alliteration. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and whoooops! I forgot my buddies Ethel?  I can't wait, and maureen? please come back...(I'm trying not to beg, folks.) And speaking of begging, where's our porch puppy? |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Well, Karen, now that you mention it... there was this one groupie in Lubbock, Tx.. she had the largest.... uh, wait... you said to tone them DOWN, right??? hmmmmmm............ never mind. I hope you had a decent sleep, and that it was as enjoyable as it could have possibly been. My ex-wife says I never listened to her. At least I think that's what |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen - got your email, so everything must be working properly now. I want to write more in here, but this awful cold is not only stopping up my nose, but my brain as well. Plus, Meeka, my pooch has decided that it is great fun to dig in the thawing ground!! She has alot of long, white fur/hair, double-coated at that, and well....you can just imagine what she looks like after exploring the garden. Which by the way "did have" purple crocuses blooming, even though they are predicting 4 inches or more of snow to-morrow. Oh joy!! Write on poet friends!!! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
PDV !! Hugging you here Sharon. You are about to embark on such a wonderful journey. It is scarey I know. But, oh boy....look out world, here comes a lady who has wisdom and wit, and great writing talent to boot. Everything happens for a reason, I truly believe. You have yet to find out what the "real" reason is for this move. I had a big change in my life once. I was terrified. I had no banck account, no job, a car without reverse, and a daughter just entering her teens. What a whirl-a-wind of events since then!!! Smile, you are going to be just fine. We'll always be here for you - your cheering friends. God Speed. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Chris, your car without reverse reminded me of a car that I had once, before I married my last husband. It was an old standard-shift ford. I got to where I could drive the standard pretty good, but that old Betsy loved to backfire. My daughter was eleven or twelve years old then. When we would have to stop at a red light in town, she would get in the floorboard because she was afraid old Betsy was going to backfire again. It was so loud!! LOL I would get so tickled at her. And speaking of a car without reverse....around that same time one of my boyfriends had bought a new Volkswagen. It was a cute little thing....yellow...a rabbit I think it was called. Anyway, one time when he got too drunk to drive me home, I drove his little Volkswagen to pick up my daughter from the babysitters house. He had picked me up from work that night and we had gone out. I had to go home so that my daughter could go to school the next day. I had to stop at the TomThumb to get some cigarettes before I picked her up. I got that little car pulled right on up there. Then when I got my cigarettes, I came bebopping back to the car, got in it and couldn't find the reverse. I almost had the thing up on the curb before I finally found the reverse in it. I kept the car that night and took it back the next morning. The place to park the car at the low rental housing my daughter and I lived in had parking spaces where you had to back up. I hunted everywhere for a place to park where I wouldn't have to. I can't remember where I ended up parking that night........ |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Cars without reverse... What is this an epidemic??? I had a Ford Escort without reverse. It was a beater, however that thing never seemed to let me down. I was freshly married, and asked my wife of about 4 months to get the oil changed while I slept off the third shift I had just worked. She forgot about it (having a pregnancy check had pre-occupied her) and I didn't think to check. When the engine finally seized, it had gone about 6,500 miles on the oil change. My ex-wife says I never listened to her. At least I think that's what |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Smiling and giggling with Ethel & Ringo. Cars have minds of their own - I am sure of it! I remember that the house-apartment that my daughter and I rented at the time, had a very slight incline on the driveway that I had to park in. Perfect! I could put the old 72 Duster into drive, then quickly into reverse(which wasn't really there any longer) and sort of roll out into the street. Depending on how strong the roll had been I either headed west or east....lol. The thing that makes me shake my head is, I used to drive from my sister's home to my home on the I95 Expressway in the States - an hour's trip, in that vehicle, with a jug of water in the trunk because it also overheated quickly!! What was I thinking?!! LOL. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
*shudder* Please don't talk about overheating *whispering to myself* "It's okay, the Satan Van is really dead... It can't hurt me anymore..." |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
LOL@Susan.. "It's okay, the Satan Van is really dead... It can't hurt me anymore..." |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Susan, when I thought of old Betsy yesterday, I thought about you writing about your "Satan Van". I've had a few of those, too...not vans, but other vehicles that were demon possessed. LOL |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Susan- The "Satan Van" wasn't named Christine, was it??? lol And are you SURE it's truly dead??? My ex-wife says I never listened to her. At least I think that's what |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Okay the Satan Van. Pontiac Transport, a '98. Got it in the divorce and it apparently wanted to stay with him. So it gave me every kind of trouble. Seems it has a coolant in it called Dex-cool. Long story short, replaced the water pump, radiator, and various hoses. Dang thing just would not stop overheating (the dex-cool, kids..beware). The entire coolant system had sludge everywhere. Over 25 flushes and it still was messed up. Finally the intake manifold gasket went, and soon after the engine. I still owed a bit of money on it. Couldn't afford to continue paying it and find a new mode of transport (no pun intended). So I let it "go back", and got me a '97 S10 (I know, but the dex-cool had been taken out of this one). Well, fast forward a month and in the mail I get a notice from the loan company saying the Satan Van had been auctioned off for $1500!!!! Someone bought it!!!! It lives!!!! I can only hope it doesn't find it's way back to me.... |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
indeed some stories that perhaps we all relate to in some way or the other... enjoying this thread... [This message has been edited by Cpat Hair (03-18-2004 01:49 PM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Yes...perhaps someday, you will. This brought back some wonderful ex-memories for me, too. No matter the clouds, there were the clear days, and those are the days that we don't want to seem to put out of our minds, because for that brief bit of sanity, we were in love, and we were feeling quite immortal... Yes, please, do think of telling the "rest of the story" sometime soon. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Gee Ron..what a beautiful memory! Thanks so much for telling us about it. It makes me realize that even during the darkest clouds of relationships past there are always rays of sunshine..memories we will never forget, nor want to. For some reason as I read your story..I kept thinking about that movie.."A River Runs Through It". More stories please...we have received about 5 inches of snow today, my youngest son and his bride are moving out into their own home and I feel....not sure, I just know I feel. Does that make any sense? |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
K.. someday perhaps... someday. nancy.. yes ma'am.. it makes perfect sense. The feel sometimes is enough..and if it is not peaceful then all one can do is hope, that no matter the storms they remember what is important.. as for telling more..lol.. we'll see... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
hmm...this one sounds sorta familiar, except in the version I'm remembering... well. Um. There was a car. giggle, and that's about all I can relate of it here. naughty Cap....*smooch*! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
' The others seem clouded with all the garbage from both sides that cloud what it is we did to each other over the years.' Yes, we tend to lose sight of the fact that we once had a deep bond with this person we are now distant from. Good one Cpat. ... but do gift us with more....sometime. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I’m pretty sure Eddie was 12. As I’ve said before, I was a good six to nine months younger than most of the kids in my class. But I was taller than he was, and he was one of those boys that you know will make a difference some day – but not all that great to look at. At least, not then. But of course, neither was I. He claimed to have a crush on me, and he found some courage in his back pockets to hold on to, because his hands stayed there, while he made this pronouncement. We were in my front yard, there in California, and the sun had gone behind the pine trees over there in Waller Park, across the highway. For a moment I wished we were over at the park – at least I could have been sure that my younger brother or little sister wouldn’t come wandering outside and making a big deal over nothing. I mean, it was okay that he was telling me this, and I was surprised that he was telling me, but since I didn’t feel anything much about it, all I really noticed was his face growing flush with a redness that made him even more…different. I truly didn’t know why he thought he had a crush on me. What I did know was, he was lonely, and a loner. And I was naïve enough to feel sorry for him, because what the heck did I have to offer? I wasn’t even wearing a bra yet. But, I remember his eyes. In them, there was such an outpouring of truth. And I didn’t feel sorry for him, but curious as to why he wanted to tell me these things. We were sitting on the rock retaining wall, and he finally pulled his hands out of his pocket, and took my right hand in his left hand. It was with some objectivity I noticed he had warts – just like the younger girl friend I knew across the street, and I sat there thinking if he needed to know about the medicines her Mom used to get rid of them. And that’s when he kissed me. It was one of those dry-lipped, nervous, pre-pubescent kisses. When he drew away, I noted his eyes were so big, that I felt this kiss must have meant something to him. I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet. He grew shy, and whispered something about having to move away, and he knew before he left me forever, he had to give me at least one kiss. The next week, at school, I noticed I missed Eddie who usually hung back from the crowds, like I did. For some reason, Eddie crossed my mind today. I wonder if he is a poet somewhere, and I wonder if he ever remembers giving a little girl in pigtails her first kiss. |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
Eddie may indeed be a poet, or he may have found himself an artist, or a bricklayer. Whatever, he found his path to be in life, I'm sure he remembers that kiss... who could forget? |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Ron- I would also like to thank you for bringing up memories... although not of a river, rather of my "lovely, adorable" ex-wife. When she was pregnant, she was the absolute most beautiful, and sexiest creature the Good Lord had ever seen fit to grace His planet with. And every time I told her that, her own insecurities didn't allow her to believe it. I would like to state for the record, after having done a very informal survey of friends and family, that pregnant women have a very special allure to their men. One that can never be explained, and that only happens during those few months. I realize that most of the women that are participating in this thread are beyond the desire to go through that process again,. however, if your significant other told you these things, and you didn't believe him, then go apologize, because he told you the truth. Sunshine- As Ron said, I'm sure he remembers that kiss... That's something you just don't forget. Mine was with Carol Tagalar when I was 7. She was blonde and gorgeous, and I was... well... 7. And Angela Aldrich was PEEVED. lol. However, that is a story for another time. My ex-wife says I never listened to her. At least I think that's what |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
My first kiss.....it happened when I was very young, about 5 or 6 years old when one of my little boyfriends and I decided to play house instead of climb trees. I lived across the street from two little brothers. We used to climb trees all the time. My Mama would tell me not to do it anymore every time that I would fall out of one of them. She'd tell me that little girls were supposed to play with dolls. I did inside the house, but those two little boys were my best friends at the time and they didn't like to play with dolls. There were many, many kisses through the years with different guys. I think that I was the one who was experimenting. Then, my Mama started telling me that I could get pregnant if I kissed a boy, so I slowed down a little bit. LOL My Daddy was really, really strict..... Now, my first kiss with the first guy I really fell in love with is a different thing. We were so in love. I was 16 and he was 18. We worked together. It was my first real job, besides baby-sitting jobs. My parents and his Mother (his Daddy was really cool about us) were so afraid that we were getting too serious. They were always trying to keep us under their wings. I have so many memories of him....some I could tell here, some I couldn't........His name is Barry and he has run into my parents a lot over the years. He used to be a manager at Sears.......... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hi Honey(s), I'm home! Didja miss me? *battin' eyelashes* I had to get out for awhile--I sat here so long my feet were started turning blue from lack of circulation! and oh boy, am I just in time for first kiss stories? (Is that the french variety, or just the first...hmmm.) Well, now you know, I have two stories, but I have (somewhere) a pic to accompany the first story. Because, as it happens, it was also the day of first grade pictures, and they were taken immediately after recess, but then, I'm getting ahead of myself. Lemmee go see if I can go dig up that ridiculous thing--nodding, ya'll can laugh with me if I find it. and mercy, it's good to be home... |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Okay... Some things that have been revealed are a bit shocking.. Ethel, you smoke???? And why is it you people got your first kisses so young??? I was a freshman in high school!! Goodness.... I must be a late bloomer. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
oh, Sunshine, your first kiss story has given me tingles and chills....that is the kind of moment we all watch in movies with tissue in hand... i hope somewhere he is a poet, and im sure he couldnt forget that lovely girl with the pigtails....maybe you were his first muse oh dear, *sniffle*, need another tissue! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
(Blame this one on our place for therapy…and thank you, Serenity…) There, in Nipomo, before puberty hit, and I, being safeguarded by very protective parents, and only three channels on TV, if we had owned a TV, with all of the naivety in the world sitting on my shoulders, I could have easily been swayed, had I not had this uncommonly high ground approach in right and wrong. Oh, what hormones do. Yes, I was all of nine, for that very short year, my youngest sister just toddling, my younger brother being a particularly shy boy…we were all under the auspicious care of Candy, while my mother and father worked jobs to make ends meet. We were not wealthy in the financial sense, not at all…but we always ate, even if it meant stretching a pound of hamburger from Monday to Friday; Sundays were always chicken meals, fried…in wonderful bacon grease; and a whole lot of beans, and casseroles. I guess I counted the smiles I banked on to make me one of the wealthiest kids alive. My father was kind; my mother, when not strained by three young ones, was very wise, and intelligent. I wanted to be so much like her. But I digress. Candy was our sitter. At nine…I was not ready for this task. A lot of nine year olds today know more than I did when I was fifteen, but still and all, they should be left to be children, and be allowed to enjoy that period of their life, in order that memories grow. But some kids, even way back then, have some memories that weren’t made to order, and this is certainly not one that my mother or father would have approved of. Mom was really big on children taking naps, especially during the summer. She had suffered from infantile paralysis, and knew that resting [or siestas] was good for everyone during the hot summer months. Dad was away on a large construction project, and was gone for several days at a time. Mom was working at a telephone answering service, newly hired, and didn’t have seniority to request certain hours yet. Candy was a 16 year old from the small community neighborhood, and was making hay at $.50 an hour, babysitting us three. Oh, she was making hay, all right. It was right after lunch when she put my little sis down for a nap, and read a book to my brother, who knew the routine, and gladly napped. But she asked if I would like to stay up with her, and I remember, even then, the combined joy of something different, and the red flag of something wrong. Her smile was too big. Way too happy to have this “kid” hanging around. It was about thirty minutes into the “little kids” nap time, and the doorbell rang. Candy rushed toward the door, and let in a…stranger. Not a stranger to Candy, of course, but a stranger to me. And I knew Mom’s rules. No one in the house. No one. Candy’s eyes gleamed differently. She turned to me and said, “Karilea, I need your help.” Ah, help. She had me there. I loved to help. “I want you to follow us outside, we have some talking we need to do.” Outside? But, but, my brother and sister are in here, sleeping! Shouldn’t someone be in here, in case they woke up? What if they woke up, and were frightened because no one was close by? “It will be for just a few minutes. Your dad said I could show Joe the barn.” I remember feeling strangely uncomfortable. Could it have been the electricity in the air, the way Joe kept his hand on her arm, running his finger up and down her forearm? “C’mon Karilea, we won’t be long. I just want you to watch the house, in case your brother wakes up and comes outside looking for us.” So I’m thinking…wouldn’t it be more logical for me to stay here? In case my brother needs me? But I was one of those kids who was always doing what she was told. Candy was 16. My math was good…she was seven years older than me. She would surely know right from wrong, and only do what was in all of our best interests, right? Wrong. I heard a shy voice say…“I can stay here, and wait for you to come back.” “No, I want you with me. I’ll show you where to stand, so you can watch the house.” I knew the window she was speaking of. Dad would tell me, “look out the window, is there a blue towel in the kitchen window at the house?” That was Mom’s way of saying “come in” without her coming all the way down to the barn, when it was close to supper time. I’d say, “yes” or “no”, depending on whether the blue towel was showing. There wouldn’t be blue towels today to watch for. First of all, my brother was too short. And at seven, I don’t think he realized what Mom did with that blue towel. But I did as I was told, and followed them obediently to the barn. Once inside, Candy turned to me, saying, “Now you stand here, stay here. I want to know if you see your brother come outside.” Then she joined Joe behind the partitions in the barn. I remember watching out the window. I remember, … sounds…, I remember studying a spider web so closely, I gasped when I realized how close the owner of the web was to my face. I jumped back – I knew black widows were nothing to fool with. Neither were the strange sounds coming from the back of the barn. I remember, I felt like I was holding my breath from that moment on. I was scared, and I felt some sort of fear. Not personal fear for myself, but for Candy. I couldn’t describe it, but I knew if my folks found out what she had asked of me, she would not be coming back. And overall, I knew I liked Candy. I knew I liked the way she played board games with me; how we played Old Maid, and how her face squinched when she was the “old maid”. I was pretty good with card games. Soon enough, Candy came out from behind the partitions, and she seemed pink, somehow. Flustered, in some way. I knew “big words” back then. Mom and Dad pretty much treated me as an adult when it came to words, and “flustered” entered my mind. Me? I felt vast relief. “Can we go back to the house? Please?” “You go. I’ll be there in a minute.” I ran. I remember my legs pumping so hard, my heart, beating so fast, and I barely remembered not to rush so fast that the screen door would slam behind me, possibly waking the sleeping siblings. My brother was sitting there, at the kitchen table. “Where you been?” I shuddered. Candy came in behind me. “She was with me. We were out, walking in the back.” A lie. “Mommy doesn’t like us to be alone.” “It was just for a few minutes. You were sleeping. In fact, you got up early. Want to play a game?” A game. Later, as I remember, Candy was looking at the clock, just before Mom was due home. She had set my brother by my sister, and fingered at me to come into the main room of the house. “Can you keep a secret?” I nodded. “You don’t need to tell your Mom that we were outside.” We weren’t outside, we were in the barn. “Your brother seemed upset. Just tell your Mom, if he says anything, that we were only outside the porch door.” A lie. My mind repeated silently, but, but…. I saw the look on her face. It was not kind. It was not Candy. It was someone else. ~*~ I remember Mom saying, a few days later, to Dad, that she needed to take a small vacation until they could find a sitter. (This is the first time I have ever released this memory. I was not as graphic as I recall things to have happened. You are all smart enough...to know.) |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
oh my! poor little karilea what a horrible posistion for a young kid to be in .... but, you tell a story so well i felt like i was in that barn standing next to you... ...funny, her name was "candy"..LOL..that name has such a stereotype attached! looks like she lived up to it .... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*a touch on the screen* You've brought me to a strange place tonight Kari. One full of secrets, and sex, and lies, and writing as therapy. I told myself when I started this, it would be good for me, to get some things out of me--to find a place for some of it outside of myself--so I can finally type "the end" to some memories and be done with them. And yet, I began wondering if that is a good thing--should we rewind the tape and play it over? I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to do that alone, but tonight, I'll try to write this story for the last time and be done with it. You see, I'm just tired of "looping" the date and the circumstances over and over in my mind. I'm weary of picking scars back into wounds. Let them heal, I say, finally. Resolved: I will not punish myself anymore for a mistake a child made almost three decades ago. You see, today is a very strange anniversary for me. It was on St. Patrick's Day, in 1976, that I was assaulted. There are only a few details that I could actually relate for certain, because I was completely unconscious during (what I assume to be) the worst of it. I was fourteen years old, wearing my sister's clothes, and I was completely incapacitated--drunk--on green beer. I could tell what I remember, but it's just such an unholy place that I have to tread, that I think I prefer not. I woke up on the side of the levee, on River Road, here in Algiers. It was dawn and I was in shock. There had been four of them, and one of me. I sometimes wonder though, if I didn't splinter somewhere deeper than they could touch, into more, just to make it an even fight. Fourteen years old. I had just gotten over the initial shyness of puberty that makes little girls hide in clothes too baggy--and it seemed that this was going to be my first lesson as "a woman." That day (night) has done more trauma to me, my psyche, than anything else. It sickens me to know how common a story this is, and it also perplexes me, because I can offer hugs and assurances to others--"it wasn't your fault"--and yet I don't believe those words when I apply them to myself. I still feel responsible. No matter that I could look back and forgive them--they were kids--they were drunk--they didn't know what they were doing. It's that child within me, still raging at adult me, accusing: "You didn't take care of me." * * * I never even told my therapist that one, but he knew there was more to my games than my own amusement. He and I never had enough time to go into the "all" of my complexes--I fell in love with him fast, and he was my genuine hero, and he had let me go. You see, I was compounding those issues, and distracting myself by focusing on him. I didn't understand, of course. Even with him, I didn't know that the lines had been blurred. It's only now that I understand he cared about me as a human being first. It never occurred to me that some people might. Smile. Till now. So thank you, and now I'll just type "The End" to that particular saga. It's done. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ah, Karilea. That terrible feeling of being torn between what you knew was wrong and not wanting to upset someone else who was also your elder. Then to top it off....what went on in the barn was confusing, and frightening. These happenings mark us - remain with us, no matter how many years go by. I too, have had moments such as this. You were coming into puberty and this teenager was asking a "favour" of you. Act like a child and shy away? Never. Then she doubled your already guilty feelings by telling you to keep a secret. Yes, these things stay with us....until we let them out...like now. Hugs lady!! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
"it's done" And if my folks are looking down, as I feel they are, they know now, that I knew then. There are more. Yes. It's a beginning, to a beginning. I'm proud of you. So very, very proud of you. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen.....my, my, my. After reading your last entry in your journal I shall say something that I just told someone else this evening. This is so odd as I knew that the first time I heard these lines.....they would fit somewhere. This is the place. For you and so many others whose inner child is now speaking up. The author is unknown. "Sometimes God calms the raging storm. Sometimes God lets the storm rage and calms the child." Hugs & Peace, Chrislane |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
I don't seem to remember much about my life, and I certainly cant convey it the same way you guys do...but there has been a few instances in my life that were deeply moving, and I'm going to try to share one. Three and half long years ago, my husband left in the middle of the night taking our only child. Devastation smacked me square in the jaw and I was down for the count. Everything after that day seems dreamy, drugged, I was suddenly all alone in a country far from home and my little angel stolen away to the silence. Every day that passed without my child¡¦s singing voice, became harder to live through, harder to breathe. For months I hid away inside the cave that used to be a home, a place that used to welcome in friends and strangers alike. All the light that once shined through boldly opened window, were blocked, covered by aged aluminium blinds¡parallels of just how plain and empty my life had become. My beautiful friend Melanie, who was hiding as well, but from herself, was trying to help me through this time. I can't remember just how many tears fell from our eyes, but I know there was no drought that year. The two of us sheltered from the world, fragile and afraid to open the door. But, something happened one night, we decided to escape¡break open that dark cell that had been holding me captive far too many weeks. And under veil of night, she and I took a drive to the coast¡.was only a ten minute drive, but it seemed I held my breath the entire way. We arrived at the beach, slowly crept out of the car, and sucked the sea air in as deep as possible. The first breath of freedom is always the most painful,but, I continued to inhale, and I walked forward to the sand. The water was as black as the sky, but somehow it shimmered. The sand was cool under my feet; every step seemed to take me further away from reality. I found sanctuary, my god, it was here all along. Melanie and I laid a couple of old towels onto the ground, each taking our place, staking our claim to the little dark paradise found. We both lay on our backs, to gaze up at the night sky. It was as if this was the first time I had ever opened my eyes. The stars were so vivid; I almost had to shield my eyes from their bright dance (my heart almost burst from the beauty of it all). I knew, we knew, that shooting stars were the most sought prize of the night. Everyone always begging for a chance at a wish come true. How I prayed I would see a wishing star, a glimpse of hope, just for me. The universe, she listened, and I saw the most amazing sight I had every seen,not just one shooting star, but a meteor shower of shooting stars. Melanie and I were so excited, so overwhelmed we almost cried. All that time I thought hiding from the world would keep me safe, thought that wishes were for dreamers. And here I laid, under a blanket of new hopes and promises that life will get better, Showered in a glow of heavenly winks. Once, I thought miracles were like winning the lottery¡invest all you have for little chance of winning¡But, I was wrong. The world i swimming in miracles, I just had to walk out into it, open my eyes and let it rain down on me. And yes, all my wishes did come true, every single one of them and I now have the beautiful voice of my son singing me awake every morning...and kissing me goodnight every evening. Thank you for letting me share one of the most life altering moments I've had so far |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Amen, Chrislane. I love your name. It has a touch of crystal about it. I am proud...to know you, and all of the poets who are reading, and writing, in Serenity's interactive journal. Lives are expanding...and ... leaving pasts...behind. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
my heart is aching Serenity, my goodness, how its breaking for you... its good that you have a wealth of friends here to take your words gently into embrace, and nurture the child within |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
smiling here. My heart used to ache. But thanks for coming here with us. It's a good day. I think I have a new "anniversary" now. *heart-hugs* to all. I think I'll go cook my son a steak. I love to watch that boy eat. Life is good. Love to all. I'll be back with happier tales. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Muted? Welcome. And I believe I speak for Serenity, too. quote: Yes, girl, just that. More will come to you. If it doesn't? Then, I have one thing to say. Read. Learn. Adjust. All that you might see here? Might help, later. I don't know what all you've read? But when things get so hard for me? I take the Gumby approach. And if you do not, or are not old enough to know that means? E-mail me, and I shall explain. I am so glad to see you here. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
oh, i meant to say "the world is swimming with miracles" me and my typos thank you for the welcome...ive read quite of few stories so far..only just recently bold enough to join in Gumby is the little green plastacine fellow? please email me would like to know the Gumby approach |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
*hugging you all*... I just caught up on my reading and each of your stories are all so personal...so real... and so very touching... Thank you, to each of you, for sharing them... And, Karen?... "I think I have a new "anniversary" now." Yes, indeed... smile I love you, lady... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Yes. It is done. It's not enough to just decide that will be so--I think I have to make an active and opposite effort to lead myself some other place. Especially tonight. Especially now. I gave you all a bit of a taste of some serious unhappiness (and resulting complications) so I thought in the spirit of my spirit of extremities (chinese jump-roped razorblades) I would leap forward to what I call my true "glory days." So I have to take you back to my garden and the street corner prophet who confirmed my pregnancy to me. That tingling I felt--it just gave me such a sense of, well, expectancy. I actually felt at home in my skin, even as this little boy inside fought malnourished me for meals. I was basically living off of what the kids (nieces and nephews) didn't eat, and I promise you I wasn't well. The heat became relentless too--the summer of my pregnancy was one of the hottest on record. I wasn't well. I didn't look well either, but denied that too. "You're glowing." Twisted #1 said. "Really?" I smiled. "No, Karen. You are white." She wasn't smiling back. (noooooooo...........) I was going to carry this baby. I was, dammit. I was pregnant, and growing with child, and it was making me sick. I got very good at passing out. I could tell when those moments would come upon me, and I learned to find a wall and slide down, always saying, "I'm okay..." as I went down. I learned that a closet door was often best and if nothing else? I learned to lock doors as I slid down them so I wouldn't be pummeled by the unaware. I just needed some juice and a hand up after that. "I'm fine." I said, gritting teeth. But even in the centered calm of me, there was a growing urgency. "my baby, my baby, my baby, my baby..." as I traced those growing circles on my belly. I had never felt a sense of sacred before--not inside nor out, but I did now, and I was overwhelmed emotionally. It was my sisters who first assured me that it was going to be okay. They even told my mother for me. (That's another story--grin) They got me pre-natal care (the only protein I ever found hard to swallow) and assured me that even if "daddy" wasn't willing, then the aunties were--and my baby would have a home. That was all I needed to hear. Until the baby moved. oh joy---flutter kick alive. My soul had been jump-started! I had become a wonder of the world. I was a temple! I understood so many things, even the futitlity of trying to explain. (Thus, that annoying beatific smile of pregnancy.) "my baby, my baby, my baby, my baby..." My mantra. My baby. As Doolittle Lynne said to Loretty in Coal Miner's Daughter? "By God, I think you found something you can do..." * * * |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I can't stop. I loved being pregnant. I felt sexier than I ever had before, and I was so calm. Everything really was going to be alright. I didn't care if the boyfriend was going to join me in this or not--I was busy nesting. I cleared out a bottom drawer in that creole cottage that I lived in with my sisters, thinking, "well, this will do just fine." But then there was the more insistant kick of a stronger baby the next month, and something wild and frantic grew in me as I remembered how I always felt that my own arrival was not "greeted"--but considered an interruption. I was born into a crowded house, and I spent my life apologizing for my presence. I wanted something better for my child. So I did what women have done since the beginning of time. I went looking for a cave of my own. The days went by, and things looked hopeless. There simply wasn't a place I could afford on my own--and with a pet deposit? I couldn't forget Bubba. Then I slept and had one of my most fabulous dreams. In this dream, I had followed a tall lanky man who was telling me, somehow silently, "this is your home." It was a shambles too. The gate was rickety, and I had to crawl through a muddy alley to get to the front door. But inside was more space than I needed, and I kept seeing potential through every open door. There was more space there that could be utilized and it was actually charming. I woke, and felt that this was a good day. It's one that I'll remember forever as very magickal--because I woke and called my uncle, and asked him, "Is anyone living in Grandma's house?" He told me it had been boarded up long ago. I told him the position I was in, and begged him to let me see it. He agreed but warned me, "it's not in livable condition and I'm too old to be a landlord" and he wanted to know, "where is your husband?" Oh. *wince* So I called the boyfriend, and asked him if he was planning on sticking around. He said "of course." (wow) So we took a ride to see the apartment--and the best move we ever made was bringing Bubba-the-bye-bye-dog with us. My uncle loved dogs. They became friends immediately. And yes, the place looked pretty bad, but no worse than where I'd been living--and I looked longingly at the huge metal cabinet in the center of the apartment--CENTRAL AIR CONDITIONING!!! Glory, glory, days indeed. I was sold. It didn't matter that the kitchen had no hot water and the bath basin had no cold. "Hope you can shave fast," my uncle laughed at "my husband." Then we went to my uncle's home, just four feet across the alley, and there Bubba began to lay on the charm. We sat at my uncle's green-chip formica table with matching vinyl chairs as he warned us: "You understand there won't be repairs?" "Yes sir," my boyfriend replied. (Sir??? whoa...) My uncle grabbed a dusty pad off of a too tall shelf, blowing a small storm under the ceiling fan. AS IS. He wrote on it and underlined. $250 a month, plus utilities. "I see ya'll have a dog..." my uncle raised an eyebrow as Bubba smiled politely, wagging his tail. (Damn he was good.) I started to say that he could stay outside, when uncle interrupted, asking, "Does he like tuna?" huh? "Um, I dunno," I said honestly. My aunt started railing how they had a dog named "King" once who just LOVED tuna. My uncle demonstrated by opening a can. "See?" he told me. "Dogs love the stuff." (er--sniff--I did too...) But he crossed out the $250 and wrote $200. "Is he house-trained?" My Uncle was quite taken with Bubba by now. "Oh yes," I said, and right-on-cue? Bubba went to the back door and barked. I was so proud. That was it. Bubba had closed the deal, just by trotting out the back door and lifting a leg on the conveniently placed pole there in the yard. Smiling and wagging his tail handsomely, like "see?" "Heh heh heh," my uncle let him back in the screen door smiling. "He's a GOOD dog." he said. He scratched out the $200 and wrote $175. "I've seen kids mess up a house more than dogs," he added with a pointed look. * * * Bubba got Alpo that night, and I began picking out colors for my nursery. My baby, my bubba, my baby, my bubba... Damn my life is strange... but somehow it was working. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
So we painted. We scrubbed. We were given a roomful of furniture for our baby. We had a small television and a radio. My mother gave me a fine gift of a round oak dining table that I loved. "His" grandmother gave me an antique Jenny Lind style crib, and my girls all bought the "pretties" for it too. I had a changing table, and a single bed in there too, so I could sleep close to him. (They knew that I would.) My mother gave me her rocking chair and I learned how to do cross-stitch, then needlepoint. I learned what all those baby gizmo's did. Then I never used them. I gave birth to my boy, after the last winter's snow New Orleans ever boasted--January 23, 1990. I was the happiest woman on Earth. I was the Goddess embodied. He was a happy, content baby too. He was a marathon sleeper. So much so, that I was able to plant gardens in the spring, and paint new life onto that tired old house. I didn't think life could get any better. I was wrong. I became pregnant again, with my daughter. Smile. If you want or need any more proof of just how satisfied I was with life at this time, I'll just offer you this pic of me, holding my son, Zachary, soon after learning I was pregnant again.  I'll say it again: Life is good. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
It doesn't surprise me that you are a natural mother...my youngest daughter is a natural mother... and there were so many lines in the last three offerings that I wanted to copy them and hug you so hard...and wrap you up in your own words. You are so Special! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
(I admit I'm chuckled remembering some happier times) so hugs you, Kari... I'd like to give vicky credit too, as I couldn't have posted the pic that inspired all of it...thank you vicky Life really IS good. But you know that already... so tell me a story? er...anybody? tappin' my toe |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
You go write us a poem... I'll get back to some more stories, soon. You've got me reflecting, and there's all this WERK here...  |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
*smilin' thru tears* ... well now, if that isn't the sweetest pic I have seen in a long time. Geez I luv you guys!! I just don't know what else to say. So, I think I will just take my leave until abit later on.  |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
enjoying the stories..and Ser, indeed you look pleased in the picture... Muted.. the pain of such leaving and such heartbreak..I can only imagine.. I wish for you the ease of time and for your heart the joys of love. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Christmas came early in this present from the past... was it worthy of sharing? Indeed. I have another friend who counts his failures...while all around him people count his successes... I wonder if you two are related ......and of course, you reminded me of another story... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Cpat. - man did you bring up memories of being a single Mom and wondering how in the world I was going to dress my daughter in "designer duds" and feed her properly. We worry endlessly, and even to-day with her happily married, the mother of two gorgeous boys, I still feel inadequate in one way or another when it comes to gift or even advice giving. Your Christmas memory is so poignant, it brings tears. You gave a gift from your heart, from your own hands. That's truly wonderful. I was so down and out at one point in my single Mom years, that I didn't even have an outfit to go looking for jobs in. The girlfriend that had taken us in at the time, lent me a blazer to cover up the fact that my dress was torn, and we stapled my high-heeled shoes back together. I had determination - and I think that plus an angel on my shoulder, found me a job. It is only now, years later, that my daughter asks me how we did it on next to nothing and shakes her head at the truths I have to tell. We did what we did cause it's all that we knew. You dear Cpat., knew how to give love. What a blessing! |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
The sharing that is happening here is so special....sometimes I can't keep on reading I'm so filled up with the heart of it. To all of you and to you, Karen, for sharing your journal in this way. You are so special. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Cap? thank you |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
welcome ma'am.. now that I know you have read it...I'm going to go delete it.. too much of me... and it makes me squirm.. lol hugs witch.. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
sighs. But? I understand. and it's okay too, I'm not likely to forget it. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Besides? I KNOW you will replace it...with TWO more... |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
not likely Ser... but we will see.. my propensity to hear myself type and to put on here what goes through my head seems to be out of the control of my better judgement at times.... She opened her eyes to sunlight just as in the mornings past but this different in some way for she had found some peace at last |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Awwwww.....  |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
lol.. what a cute pout... plenty of stories here to read.. and plenty more to be told... don't pout... just enjoy... hugs ma'am |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Darn the Cpat...but we've good memories, don't we, ladies? May I add another? I see Ser’s foot is still tapping… [Blame the pregnant thoughts on Ser….] Jumping around and ahead, to 1972. Summer, and I had been a wilted transplanted flower in Illinois, needing so much to get home, and see the family, and feel the air of California. In our little valley in Santa Maria, we were, for the most part back then, smog free, with ocean breezes cleaning out the smog on it’s way in each night. Mom and Dad sensed my needs, and sent plane fare – for one. Which was all right, as I was working, and had vacation time coming; and the ex finally had a job…and couldn’t get away. My brother was graduating…and it promised to be a good time. It was June…and I was three months pregnant. I think Mom and Dad wanted to see their little girl once more before they saw their daughter’s little girl… The day before graduation, my brother, so tall and gangly at 18, accepted the watch from Mom and Dad with a sense of…loss, I think. As in what now? I knew the feeling. Then, the next day, my brother’s graduation day, we received an emergency phone call from one of Dad’s brothers in LA. My father’s oldest brother Frank had gone into the hospital after he fell ill in the hay fields. They learned that the hay dust had coated his lungs, and he was rushed in for surgery. My Uncle Don continued, “he was doing good Bob…he came out of surgery just fine. In fact, he was even teasing the nurses, and irritating Selma with his jokes.” I was on the second phone – I was waiting to tell my uncle hello…Dad had motioned me to pick up the receiver. So I knew what Uncle Don was telling my dad. “It was a blood clot, Bob. It went to his heart. He died last night.” My own tears had started by now. Uncle Frank was the one uncle I knew who loved my dad’s kids best, and of all of my dad’s family, he was the one I knew I would go to if I ever needed someone to fill in for my dad. And then I saw my Dad’s face. I never saw my dad in gray before. He was a tall, handsome, deeply tanned man, having spent many years outside working construction. Now I was looking into a gray face. Mom had come in to the kitchen as we hung up, my Uncle Don saying he’d call back about getting the California contingent of family members to South Dakota on a flight in the next few hours. We had a lot to do. Dad basically fell into the kitchen chair, put his head in his hands, and sobbed. I had never seen my dad cry before. Mom was frantic – she had no idea what was going on. Dad couldn’t talk, and through tears, I tried to explain what had happened to our Uncle Frank. The man who, after their father walked out, basically became my dad’s surrogate father. The man who, when dad reached 18, and the two younger girls could take care of themselves, moved my dad out of South Dakota and to California, where they started a small construction business, together. The man who accepted my mother into their family. The man who, to a little girl, helped her father hang the stars and moon, and smiled his huge smile, so that I knew to whom I was related, and that I wasn’t something found under a cabbage patch leaf. Mom teared up, too, but both of us were concerned about Daddy. He had never cried in front of either of us before, and he couldn’t seem to stop. Things whirled after that; we rushed Dad’s packing, got him to the airport, where he left to join the others in Los Angeles. The next day, the California brothers, Uncles Don, Al, and their wives, my father, and a nephew, Robert [we have a lot of Bob’s in our family] left for South Dakota. The funeral would be the next day. In South Dakota, we have family everywhere: Pierre, Lead, Harold, Rapid City. The plan was to leave Rapid City, and meet everyone in Pierre. During the funeral, there were storms everywhere…and especially in Rapid City. They had been having rain for a few days in that part of the state…and suddenly, we heard on the news…the town of Rapid City was flooding. Flash floods. This was in the days before cell phones, let alone touch tone phones. I remember thinking I was going to wear my finger away with the rotary dial phone we still had in the house. We kept trying to reach people…until the lines went down. We sat and prayed and worried. We didn’t know if our family members were going to be caught in the floods, or if they were safe. When the family could get to phones, the next day, June 11, Dad asked if I could stay over a few days longer. I made arrangements with my job, and we turned in the return ticket for a new date and time. Daddy came home to the biggest hugs. He related the horror of the flood. They had all gotten back to Rapid City during the worst part of the flooding. The men all went to help those who were in the way of the moving waters. Daddy met a man who had gone out to rescue a little girl, and when he turned around, his house, and family, were gone. Dad was rather spiritual at times. He said there was probably a reason his brother Frank had died when he did. Dad wouldn’t go in for the fact that a blood clot had taken his older brother, with no good reason. Dad always believed God worked in mysterious ways. The brothers that had all gathered had formed a Rilling Rescue unit of sorts, and spent a full day helping those who had lost so much. The ones that lived in South Dakota kept up the work, while the ones from California had to catch the plane home. But they had all pitched in, one more time, as the family they were. And Dad had heard that Uncle Frank had died in his sleep, with the nurses having laughed and joked with him just before he went to sleep that night. He had been happy, moments before he was gone. That settled well with my dad. quote: Excerpted from http://sd.water.usgs.gov/projects/1972flood/ When Dad put me on the plane to return to Illinois the next day, he told me he was glad I stayed for his return. And for the first time, he verbally told me he loved me. He was all action, that man, and few words. But when he did speak them, they settled deep… And they stayed forever. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Awwww, Capt. Ron, I looked and ooked for the story they were talking about you writing....then I saw where you had said that you deleted it. I'm sorry that you felt you needed to erase it, but I do understand. Sometimes I reveal more than I want to. And, Susan? I don't smoke anymore and haven't since 1976....but my lungs don't know that. I used to get so mad at my Mama for fussing at me because I smoked. I loved the taste of the tobacco. Even after all these years, I sometimes crave a cigarette. The only eason I don't smoke now is that I just know that if I started smoking again that I would never quit this time. And, I honestly don't think my lungs could take it with this COPD and asbestosis that they have to cope with. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Folks, I really do need to get some sleep. I haven't been to bed for two days for some reason. I went to sleep in the chair for a little while early last night, but haven't been to bed all night...again. I've got a terrible migraine headache. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Capt Ron?... just have to tell you that I did see your story before you deleted it... and it truly touched me... Thank you for sharing that piece of you, even if only for a short while... And, Karen?...you know I'm smiling at your 'mom' story... and I just absolutely LOVE that pic... your happiness just spills out of it...smile... And, btw...I haven't forgotten that I promised you another story... It may take me a little time...but it will come... Thank you for not letting me off the hook...smile... |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Where did everybody go?... Someone tell me a story, please?... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Okay Vicky. I was just having a memory to-day as I sat in the car listening to the radio while my hubby was inside paying for the gas. When I was little, my Mom and Dad had a friend who not only had a television variety type show, but also was a dics jockey on the radio. Well I was always thrilled to be around him, and his family. I thought he must be just soooo famous. He must be at every big time event, rubbing shoulders with the likes of (back then), Dinah Shore, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Peggy Lee....and so on. It must have been wonderful!! lol. It wasn't till much later that I found out..and I am actually embarrassed to admit this in a way, but, I was so disappointed to be told, "no, the singing stars did not go to the radio station to sing their hits." Lol....duh. It was records! Reel to reel tapes! I thought with my child's innocence and sense of imagination, that they all just lined up and sang at a microphone. After all, there were "live" singers at shindigs that my sister and I performed our magic act at! And, there were "real" singers on television - even though it was kind of snowy...the black and white images.You know.....it really left me feeling not only dumb....but that wonderment and awe that I had been feeling for so long whenever this man visited or even called on the phone was chipped. He, was just a man. He didn't know "stars." But, on the other hand I have to thank him for giving me abit of stardust in my eyes. To be a child again and just believe that anything is possible. Ahhh. Hugs All !! |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Hi all, Just want to say that I've been around and I've been reading and you're even more lovelier. Thank you for sharing your stories and memories. Karen, thanks for the invitation to come join and perhaps share. Well Nightshade sparked a memory just now... talk about "stardust in my eyes" A man did that to me when I was just a little girl...he was actually related to my Mum. Anywhoo we were at a wedding back in the early seventies heh where everything in those days was black and white and I'm not just talking about the photo's either. I remember this man standing in front of the band (he didn't belong to it) and I remember eyeing him from his shoes to his hair lol. I was only 5 or 6 no older so of course I started at his shoes...and I was fascinated by him. Then he began to sing...oh god his voice. I at only 5 or 6 suddenly fell in love with him, he at that time was probably around 25 years... a handsome young man with thick black hair a black suit with a white crisp shirt and a ...yes you guessed, a black silk cravat. I remember not being able to take my eyes of him.. I was frozen.. I remember this day like it was yesterday...his voice just embraced me, I wanted to marry this man when I grew up. heh. Anyway.. years go by many years go by lol I saw him now and then.. off course I didn't want to marry him anymore there was too much of an age gap between us lol plus he was already married. The day arrived when I was getting married..and I wanted him to sing at my wedding. I knew he'd be there for he would be invited being related to my Mum. So I asked Dad a few days before the wedding if he could somehow arrange for him to sing. The day came, I had forgotten that I had asked Dad. Anyway through the reception while we were all sitting and enjoying our Italian meal...he got up and he began to sing...oh it was beautiful, his voice wasn't as it used to be but still it was beautiful..he brought the stardust back into my eyes, they sparkled that evening and not only becasue it was my wedding. He added to it and made it even more special for me, and so did my Dad. A memory I won't forget. He was still beautiful at his then age which I htink was in his late fourties. So that's it, just something special to me which Nightshade sparked.. and I wanted to share. Thanks Nightshade Maree. Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. (by Virginia Woolf) |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Smiling at both memories...this is such a great thread...keep 'em coming, ladies and gents... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Maree, I am so glad that I helped your remember something so nice. It's funny how we can get crushes so young. I always had a crush on my sister Enchantress's boyfriends....lol. I probably drove her insane hanging around and giggling while she tried to carry on a conversation with her beau. Hee hee. Anyway, you mentioned that your singer-crush sang at your weddding and that he was much older....in his forties...lol....man, that's life just getting started my dear!! Men are only boys I believe, until they are into their thirties. Oooh, I just had a "crush memory." Another time perhaps. Hugs!! |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Hugging Chris and Maree... Thank you both for sharing your 'stardust' memories... You've got my wheels turning and my mind playing a game of 'remember when'... Hm...I might just end up with a story yet... smile And, Karen?... where are you, lady?... Missing YOUR stories too... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Karen, the love and happiness that's showing in your eyes in that picture is so beautiful Love ya, lady Ethel |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and hugs I'm around. Sorta. Just a small bout with the flu folks! But I'll be back soon, with all my usual stories and annoyances. and vicky? Ethel? Keep the journal warm for me--tell us a story... |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
*sigh*, im lovin' this..... you guys give me the deepest smiles with your memories |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
With the first baby, I went through the concept of motherhood [as I look back now] as if I had been sleep-walking. Too much, too soon. A working pre-mother, I knew I would have to return to the job in the short time between having the baby and the maximum number of days it took to get myself “back on my feet” or the requisite six weeks, whichever came first. We were so broke, I thanked all of the powers that were that we had insurance which paid 99% of the hospital bill. I think the only “bill” we had was for the ex-Bill I was married to, who decided to eat at the hospital. We did the hospital walk-through. They all feel that if you see what’s going to attack you, you won’t be asking questions when it comes time to push. Unfortunately, they didn’t tell me not to lean against anything, so in one room, where the huge machine was to sterilize all of the instruments was kept, I decided to lean up against it. It was mid November and my baby was “supposedly” a week late. The huge machine was warm. So warm, that I started feeling faint. Key point? When feeling faint, don’t look down on a black and white checkerboard floor. It doesn’t keep you from fainting in front of the other reproducing families that are taking the same tour. My first child played lovely games with me. We went through Braxton-Hicks before it had a name. [I swore, I never heard the term. The Catholic nurses just kept saying “you have to go back home…”] Now, it wasn’t my choice to go to a Catholic hospital. Except, we only had two hospitals in the area, and the ob-gyn that I picked out wasn’t about to go to Riverside Hospital, commonly referred to by him as “Riverbottom”. Then, of course, the time was getting later and later. People were calling me at home, asking inane questions such as, “why aren’t you in the hospital?” Inane answers, such as, “I had to answer the phone” were quick and ready. As I entered my third week post expectant date, I felt that everyone was playing a huge joke on me and this WAS a watermelon seed I had swallowed, after all. If it weren’t for the feet in my throat, and the tap dancing she’d swing around to do, usually on my bladder, I would have sworn I HAD swallowed a very vindictive watermelon seed. But the fourth week post date came…and I learned the difference between Braxton-Hicks and the real thing. You’d think since the child was so politely LATE for her appearance, she’d get a move on. Nah. It was winter, and the conditions were warm, and food was plentiful, or so she thought. So on the morning of the day my water broke, my husband calmly slept through it, only to spout now and then, “call me when they’re five minutes apart.” I think what really happened was he was tired of being giggled at by nurses. So I waited most of the day for the contractions to become a steady five minutes apart. They’d swing from 12 minutes to 2 minutes to 15 minutes and back again. Now, as I looked at it, labor started with the first pain following the breaking of water. So when I say my water broke in the morning? That was 2:00 a.m., Saturday. It wasn’t until about 6:00 p.m. Saturday that the pains came 5 minutes apart. Of course, that was the year that the Midwest had a wonderful ice storm. Seriously now, we had to take four pans of hot water out to the car JUST to get through the ice to the door-handle to get the key in to unlock the car. Of course, I was under orders to call my mother [in warm and sunny California] to let her know we were going in. HER mistake was in asking how the weather was. When I told her with all honesty how the conditions were, she freaked. I told her “don’t worry about it…it’s all downhill and only about four blocks away. I can sit on my butt and slide in.” Another five pans of hot water, and we could see through the windshield. Another three pans [the car was warming by now] and I could get in on the passenger side. [Weren’t no way I was going to be able to slide across…] It only took us an hour to get the car ready to go. Not to worry, the pains were still five minutes apart. No big hurry here, it’s COLD outside. When we did get in, and I had been put through all of the ungodly things women were put through back then, I finally found a bed and thought “soon”. I never knew Ron had invented the word “soon”, so I learned, the hard way, what “soon” means to some folk. Including my child. One of the things I do remember is that this child kicked between each contraction. As the contractions finally [sometime Sunday] began getting closer? The child kicked even harder. By this time I really didn’t care what kind of hospital I was in, my language was getting fairly loose, but not so loose as to have embarrassed my mother, had she been able to be there. But I do remember that when I thought we were alone? I growled at my husband… “I’m not having a child! I am having a “blankety-blank” kid by Mark Spitz! It’s going to SWIM out!” I didn’t know one of the nurses and one of the nuns were directly behind me. They walked out, holding their hands over their mouths. It wasn’t until around 6:00 a.m. Sunday morning when things started happening. I was finally starting to dilate properly, and they called the doctor. Of course they didn’t call the doctor who I had been seeing for the last seven months. Nah, they called in his side-kick, a man I had NEVER seen before. Then, when he “inspected” me, he said “she has another 30 minutes or so, I’m going to run home and come right back. Remembering that this is pre-cell phone days, he no more left the hospital then I jumped from 4 to 10. BAM! NOW the child decides it’s time, with or WITHOUT doctor. “Don’t push, don’t push…we’ve got to get the doctor back.” Oh yea? Episiotomies were big things back then. Ever have one WITHOUT the pain killer settling in? Ever sit straight up saying “STOP!!!”? Ever have the anesthesiologist be told “put her out…” and not know why? Come to find out, my daughter, who was given to me at 7:00 a.m., had planned a few surprises. First of all, immediately after being given to me at 7:00 a.m., they took her to the pediatrics ward. I was SO tired, that I slept a little bit and around 10:00 a.m. Sunday, figuring that I felt pretty grungy, I got up and took a shower. When the nurse came in and saw my wet head, her first comment was “who let you out of bed.” I looked around to see if there had been a keeper left for me to keep me chained there [I had to do other things than take a shower, albeit I did them…slowly] and what do you know? I was alone in the room. “No one said I shouldn’t get up.” Man, did I get a talking to! Then…because I would have to go back to work ASAP, I opted for them to give me the shot to dry up my milk. Guess what? Inflammation instead. Dolly Parton, look out…. Come around 2:00 p.m. of Sunday, I was wondering WHY I hadn’t seen my daughter yet? Was something wrong? I asked the nurse. She said “well of course you can see your daughter. We’ll bring her right in!” Shift change came at 3:00. Never saw the nurse again, either. Five o’clock came, and husband has been gone since I took my shower. He’s out “celebrating”. Ahem. I’m writing thank you cards. Still haven’t seen my baby. Dinner comes in, and I ask the nurse, “when can I see my baby?” “You haven’t seen your baby?” “No.” By now I’m getting rather anxious, too. Had they lost her? Some emergency pulled that nurse away, and by the time 7:00 p.m. came, still, no baby, but, a very inebriated husband who decided to come see how I was doing. Sigh. I should have seen the writing on the wall. I did finally make enough noise and cause enough bru-haha that everyone who thought everyone else had brought me my baby finally got the idea that NO one had brought me my baby and it had been over 12 hours. As a very exasperated nurse handed her to me, she said “you’d think you’d want some rest first…” Not before I counted all the fingers and toes…the baby’s face looked SO much like her father’s father’s face, that I knew she was ours. I curled down into the bed, told my inebriated husband to go home, and didn’t let the nurses take her back for 12 hours. And that was only to show them that sometimes, even new mamas know best. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Karen?...sorry you're not feeling well, my sis... Take care of you, and feel better soon... Love you, lady... Oh...and still workin' on that story... soon?...smile |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
And yes... I know it's not supposed to be 'work'... but you know me... Maybe I just need to go 'shake'?...grin |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Karilea?... I so wish I had some 'mom' stories to share...but it just wasn't in the cards for me... I am so grateful, though...to you and to the others, for sharing your stories... Each and every one of them touches me more deeply than you can imagine... or maybe you can... smile Funny how things work out, isn't it?... The only thing I ever truly wanted to be was a mom... Instead, I spent over half of my life, thus far, devoted to caring for other people's children... I've been a caregiver, a teacher, a scout leader...a confidant...a friend... to young people ranging in age from infancy through teenage years... Working with children wasn't just what I did...it was who I was... it defined me... and I cherished every minute of it... Though I will always wish I had had the opportunity to have children of my own, I would not trade the experiences I have had... The relationships that I have had, with literally hundreds of children are, each one, priceless to me. You may say it's not the same... they weren't 'my 'kids... and biologically?... no...they weren't 'my' kids... but in my heart?...in my soul?.. they were ABSOLUTELY my kids. I loved every one of them as if he/she was my own... and in many cases, I spent more waking hours with them than their 'real' parents did... not because I had to...not because it was my 'job'...but because I wanted to... It was where I was supposed to be... My co-workers never truly understood the extent of my love and devotion to children... I remember them asking me one day... I actually had a day off...that was rare...not because I wasn't allowed a day off, but because I had no desire to be away from my kids. But on this occasion, I was taking a day...and my co-workers wanted to know what I was planning for my 'grown-up' day. You should have seen the looks on their faces when I explained that I was going to pick up a friend's 4-year old son from daycare and take him out for the day... They thought I had completely lost my mind... finally, a day AWAY from children...and I was choosing to spend it with a 4-year old?...but that was me... and I couldn't wait... I picked him up the next day and we had a blast! We went shopping and HE picked out a new outfit for himself. Hey...what can I say?..the kid had taste...grin... After shopping, we got something to eat and then spent the rest of the afternoon at an indoor amusement park. There was nothing that I would rather have done with my day off! There are so many stories from my years as a preschool teacher... each and every child was a story in their own right... but there were always one or two that were special... and I would be drawn to them, and they to me. There were those children who seemed to open up to no one else... and over time, I came to realize that, in almost every case, it was a child who was being neglected and/or abused in some way. Why they chose me?... I will never truly know...but I am grateful. In being there for them, and giving of myself to them, I received so much more than I ever could have asked for or imagined... As I said... the stories are numorous... but there are a couple that I am compelled to share... First there was Charlie... a little girl, just 4 years old, who we had reason to believe was being physically abused. She wasn't even in my class, but somehow, we just connected...and when there was a problem with her, I was the one that was called on to deal with her. For some reason, she trusted me...and I was always able to calm her... One day in class, they made macaroni necklaces... She gave hers to me... Soon after, she transferred to another preschool, and I never saw her again. I hung the necklace from my car's rearview mirror and that's where it stayed until every last noodle finally fell off...and even then, I found it difficult to take it down. To this day, I think about Charlie often...wonder how she is... and wonder if she remembers me as well... Then there was a young boy...Jesse...6 years old. He lived with foster parents, as both of his biological parents were in jail. I'll never forget his first day in my class. In the mornings, I would help with the younger preschool classes, but 'my' class was the school-agers. They ranged in age, from 6 to 12, and they would arrive in the afternoon, after school let out...and, of course, in the summertime, I had them all day long. But back to Jesse... I knew, from the moment I saw him, that he was going to be a challenge... but I also knew that he was worth it. He was angry, and understandably so. Who wouldn't be, in that situation? For Jesse, though?... it went much deeper than mere anger. He had crawled so far into himself...to protect himself...that earning his trust wasn't going to be an easy task. That first day, he arrived with his older brother. Naturally, they were both a little shy at first, and Jesse had a very hard time. I can't remember exactly what set him off, but I do remember that he started crying and ran from the school-age area. Our school had an open floor plan, so there were no doors seperating the classes... only various shelving units, etc. So, he wasn't going far, and I was able to have another teacher take over for me, so I could go after him. I found him, near the front of the building (it wasn't a huge building, so that wasn't really that far away), and the school Director was with him. Respecting the fact that Jesse was my responsibility and that this was my opportunity to try and make a connection with him, the Director let me handle the situation. She made sure my class was covered, so that I could spend as much time with Jesse as I needed. Jesse was sitting, leaning against the wall, away from everyone else...his knees up to his chest, head buried in his folded arms... I went over and sat down next to him. He was still crying...and at first, I sat silent...just letting him get used to the idea of me being there. After a few minutes, I started to talk to him. I can't recall exactly what I said... but I was asking questions... trying to get him to talk about himself... about how he was feeling...and at the same time, letting him know that I cared about HIM. He wasn't going to make it easy though. He refused to speak. This went on for a little bit, but I remember thinking that I didn't want to force him into talking before he was ready. He was already being forced into so many things, that I didn't want to add to that. So, I started asking more simple, 'yes and no' questions...and asked him to either nod or shake his head in response. That wasn't working either...but for some reason, I just felt that I shouldn't give up on communicating with him. Even though he wasn't making it easy, I felt that, beyond the surface, he really did want to talk to me...but he was afraid. So...I just had to find a way to communicate on his terms. I grabbed a pen and a pad of paper, and asked him if he would write the answers for me... He didn't want to, but I sensed we were getting closer... so I wrote 'yes' and 'no' on the piece of paper and asked another question. Then I asked him to point to the answer...and finally...there was a response...he slowly pointed to the word that answered the question. Inside, my heart leapt and wept at the same time... This little boy, so young, had been so deeply hurt that it took this to make him feel safe in communicating...but...finally he WAS communicating. After answering a couple of questions like that, he began to speak to me. We talked for awhile, and finally made our way back to class. From that day on, Jesse and I had a special connection... we had bonded. He had needed someone to respect him...to meet him on his own ground...to allow him to feel safe. I don't know what led me that day... I just followed my heart and did what felt 'right'... and in doing so, I was given the gift of Jesse. He and his brother were in my class for about 2 years. I think of Jesse often... and I realize...he's a young man now... almost 18. I can't help but wonder what happened to him after he and his brother left our school...and as with Charlie... I sometimes wonder if he remembers me too... No... I have not had any children of my own... but I have been truly blessed with the love of so many others. A friend once suggested that perhaps that is the reason I was never granted the opportunity to have my own children... She said that, if I had children of my own?...I might not have had the same level of devotion to other children. Whether that's true or not, I don't know... but I'd like to think that, somewhere along the line, I touched even one child as deeply as so many of them have touched me... If I have done that?...then it was all worthwhile... And now?...I should probably try and get some sleep... These are some very emotional memories for me, and my mind and my heart are tired... So... g'night, all... Hugs and much love... [This message has been edited by vlraynes (03-23-2004 05:48 PM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Vicky, I read this earlier this morning, and have been pondering on your claims of motherhood. Motherhood comes in all different aspects...the cow that loses her calf will take a calf whose mother kicks it away...truly. I have a very dear friend who "loves children". That's it. She's just a person who sees a young life and gravitates towards it, and holds even tighter those she bonds with. Now, she is a mother herself, and a grandmother, but I am ever grateful she found a in my youngest. What was so strange...is that she gravitated toward my daughter LONG BEFORE SHE KNEW she was mine...it's a long story...but without her, my daughter wouldn't be who she is today! We all come into lives for very special reasons, and I have a very deep-seated feeling that the children you have named above remember a very caring soul in their lives. We do keep centered within us those who have touched us so deeply as you have. Yes, m'dear...do not fret that you have not known motherhood - you have gone much further than a lot of us ever will. Love, K |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Vicky There are many forms of "mothering". You don't have to give birth to extend unconditional love to a child. Bless you for being a "Mom" to these precious ones.Thankyou for sharing. hugs, Chris . oh, and Karilea? Have you ever sat straight up and yelled at the nurse..."YOU PUSH!!" ?? Yikes! LOL. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen? Ms. Serenity? Queen of Mardi Gras? Potion Princess? Get plenty of rest and drink lots of sweet tea. Are ya readin' and likin' what ya are readin'? And...if ya are readin'....why aren't you in bed? Hmmmmm?!! Get well soon. luv, Chrislane |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Vicky? What a kind, giving, and loving soul you are. You don't have to give birth to be a 'mom' and I'll bet those young people will never ever forget you! And to our dear hostess Karen...get well soon! I want to hear another story. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... sighing and smiling and wiping the tears... Thank you all for keeping the candles lit on my patio table. (Vicky? Can I call you mom?) Maree? hello gawgeous! You ladies show exquisite woman-loveliness- strength. I'll be reading this thread over and over... thank you all so very much. love you all. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
So, she's feeling a bit better then? Are we ready to get the wine back out? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*chuckle* I think it could have just been something I ate... tsk...eggsalad spoils easily. (sheesh...sorry, but I couldn't resist)and yes, thanks mum, I'm back on my feet again--well, when I'm not here... But let me bark a few orders and get my house respectable again, and I'll be back to play and pray. and? I did happen to pick up some merlot too. (How did she know?) |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Vicky, like Serenity..or maybe unlike her i have had the flu for over 2 weeks.. with not much I can do but read every now and then. Our stories are alot alike...never a "mom" but involved with so many children... some day when I have the time I will tell a tale or two...just felt I had to let you know that I know how you feel. hugs Maureen |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Maureen? Methinks you may be forgetting to take care of YOU. Please do that for us? love ya lady. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Maureen...what seren said... Seren...I just DO! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
After having a bad cold and infected throat for over two weeks...I think I'm almost all better!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Yayayayayayayayayay! (Janet Marie taught me how to type that--try it! It's fun!) I'm sending out good-health-love-groovies out to my girlies! (er, now that I've a couple to spare...) love ya too, Chrislane... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
[I seriously doubt anyone else know's Chris' full name here at Passions...aren't we most fortunate? shhhh....] Chris? Serenity? Are you BOTH getting back on track? Hail Merlot...good for all that ails you.... I’ve heard that you should not try to think about what to share; you should share about what comes to you. Muses are like that. And just as quickly as one thought came to me, several came. Thoughts of people I hadn’t shared time with in a long time. Boom Boom Boom. I will share one. Perhaps the others will come, later. I had experienced enough passings in my time and I was still quite young [in my mind] when this particular passing occurred. I worked with this woman, a thin, lovely, single gal, who encompassed [in my eyes] a brilliant mind, and a passion for her dog. I even smiled with my pup and I were invited to her dog’s birthday party! Although I was not able to attend, I heard, and saw, all of it, via photographs. All of the dogs that attended wore hats, played games, and had special bones with ice cream. She was “something else” in my mind. She told wonderful stories of her history, and of her parents, now deceased. She spoke of family, elderly aunts and uncles, and cousins who now lived far away. She was single, but seemed to live a full life. As I knew many a “thin” person in my life, her appearance did not bother me at all. Until she started losing weight. And yet, being involved as I was with my own children, life, work, and the everyday mundane that sets in, I failed to notice some of the most important things. The small cough that she hid with some delicacy. The new slight mottlings on her otherwise very clear, alabaster skin. How her very thick brown braid started to thin out. I changed law firms, as the one she and I were with did not offer me the advancement I sought, and went to work for a larger firm. She stayed where she was, but as most firms had to interconnect with each other in some way, I stayed close to my friend, and I thought, she to me. In the new firm, I met another gal who was outwardly vibrant, a soul layering souls, and to this day, I love her as the friend she has remained. We connect even when not connecting. She, too, knew of my friend; we discovered that we had a “mutual” contact. That made me feel even more at home…two wonderful friends I could lunch with and let my hair down [it was long then] in the privacy of “girl space”. I remember that I had asked my newer friend, one day, if she had heard from our mutual. She had a bit of “far-away” look to her eye, and said “no, but I think I will check on her.” I think it was two days that slipped by…and I asked my friend again, “have you heard anything?” “Yes. Just last night.” “Is she ok?’ “No. They found her, and her dog.” She then told me of the details, but not all of them. Just enough, that I half-wiped out a box of tissues. She said she would not tell me all, it was bad enough, what had happened. I could only imagine, and I believe I imagined well. First of all, my friend was sparing me all of the truth. Secondly, I was living with some truths of my own. To know that this lovely, intelligent woman had gone so far, as to make sure that her dog would not be discarded, or unloved, to take the pup with her, [the pup, being, some 13 years old…] And I wondered, late at night, who would have missed who most; how ill was one, over the other; how neither could have, or would have wanted, to live, without their best friend. I thought of her today, and of her black and white dog, and of two other misunderstood passings. But those are for later. This one? Is for the loss of a life, who still tugs at me. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah Chrislane, I didn't want you to cry...This woman...she had more problems than she let on to. She took her dog with her. It was sad, but at the same time, very, very responsible. I do not condone this type of action by anyone, and yet? I believe she must have been told she had cancer, or some such problem; from the signs I had seen, and the fact that she smoked...it all makes sense. She left nothing behind for people to worry about, or clean up. Her bills were paid, her arrangements met... she just didn't figure that we would keep remembering what a soul she had.... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Speaking of women with soul? I was graced tonight with a phone call, put through to me most graciously on three way from Mysteria... Thank you dear lady.I got to talk to Poet DeVine, the night before she was starting her journey. (hugging myself) She was excited, yes. She was a little emotional, yes. But I should also mention that she was non-chalant enough to allow her answering machine to pick up our insistant phone call (wince, was it three times?) as she went to her powder room, then had the grace to act amused that she was the object of so much attention. Sheesh. I wish she were picking me up on the way. She has so much grace, and wit, and style--her voice is pure silk with satin piping, and if you all can imagine the three of us on the phone? YES!!! Our words tumbled over each other and quips were a lightning storm. We discussed her possible adventures (sharon discussed movie rights) and I think we actually shocked Mysteria with our blow-by-blow descriptions! Poet DeVine mentioned this thread, too. She likes what we're doing here, so I hope we can continue. I hope also, that there will be added a page or two from her road journal and we'll be blessed with an anecdote or five from her travels. (If not, I guess we'll just have to buy the book, huh?) Mysteria? Thank you, as always, for your enduring lunatic patience with the madness of the mundane, and for sharing Sharon with me tonight. Folks? PdV was all a giggle-glee too... Be safe, precious lady. and write us soon. We love you. *touch the screen* Ya'll pray with me? for our Sharon on the Road...  |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"Lee Anne Salad" Gawd we loved a Shoney's Breakfast Bar. Maybe 'cause we just took over the place. Easy enough to do in numbers. * * * We WOULD have loved a Shoney's Breakfast Bar--except we were at Denny's. "Coffee!" barked the road manager, grabbing several mugs. "Peppy" still felt like playing drums, and the silverware would do. He grabbed two butterknives and dotted the plates with peppermint "patties", nodding smiles at our waitress. She looked at us, with one eyebrow starched indignant, and then she quit on the spot, dropping her apron on the ground. "Is she serious?" I'd never seen that done before. Not in real life. But she did--she'd removed her apron and said "no way" to our section and quit-right there--on the spot. I liked her immediately. Too bad she was gone. I noticed though, that Lee Anne? The Only Other Waitress, looked at her with horror--her friend had betrayed her. Then she looked upon our party of misfits and shook her head. I was damned glad we weren't near the carafe. She poured a "miss" onto a customers hand as she sized up the situation. I caught her eye and tried to wink. She wasn't looking at me though. Bruce had just come from the bathroom and was dripping white-man-jerry-curls all over her customers along the way, shaking his head like a wild man and saying "BRrrrrrr..." His arms were folded, and protesting the chill--he had that lower lip bite that made me wary. (Oh boy...) "Lee Anne" paled and went back to the coffee station, trying to buy time, as the manager nodded her over to our section. "Cups--water--menus--coffee" he murmered knowingly. I heard him because I was walking by, on my way to the restroom. I shook my head. I knew what damage they could do and I wanted no part of it. * * * Yet? I'd love to tell a story of rock and roll destruction, but the truth is, although I took my time in that bathroom, thinking the worst, when I walked out, that little girl had all those boys sitting proper at their tables. "Lee Anne" had ruled. * * * I heard later she unbuttoned a button, and asked everybody, 'real calm now' to "Take a seat." "I'll git to ya when I can, but in the meantime? Help each other out." And then that woman delegated, and wisely gave "Brother Tim" the coffee pot. "G'wan!" she urged, "There's gonna be more!" I heard she just yelled "TOAST!" to the white cap working the front kitchen and politely smiled "scuze me?" to her table and went over there and treated my boys like the kindergarten group that they were. That little lady took every order, patiently, but with spirit too. She didn't allow herself any crap. She waited her tables and our full section, and sometimes yelled "wait an effing minute!" as we requested (not too politely) the jellies and jams and syrups and butters and another glass of milk, please? * * * She probably lost a few tips from the other side, but I like to think we made up for it. * * * Road manager, "Brother Tim", looked at her, and nodded his approval and yelled , "TIP! " as he held his beloved carafe threateningly, wagging his brows. As 'Linda' slid under the table, Bruce stole the twenty from her back pocket and threw it on the table. I looked at him and laughed and threw my last fiver up there. Then the boys dug deep---and "ones" came from socks and other unsightly places, along with another twenty, and some fives, a couple of grudging tens too--in a huge salad of money in the middle of Lee Anne's table. But that wasn't enough. We started digging for change too. Forty-five of us literally emptied our pockets for the little waitress who could. * * * Peppy belched before kissing Lee Anne on the cheek as we left. We'd found our home, and "Lee Anne" became our mommy. She was gleeful, and smiling, counting the money, and said, "ya'll come back anytime." * * * We did, too. We tossed Lee Anne "salad" everytime too. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I only wish I could tell stories this fine... I'm thinking, if you can find her, send this to her. She'll be surprised to know she got her own $20 back... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
When we were in Nipomo, me, being a non-rebellious child, rebelled, slightly. My friend, you see, had this beautiful horse, and had promised me a ride, and as I was still naught but a child, and Mom, having gone through a stage of infantile paralysis one summer when pre-teen, engaged in her wisdom the necessity of “naps”. I was that pre-teen, then, told to “lie down” but I knew when her sleeping shadowed over her love of reading, and heard the book slip to the floor, that it was time to sneak out, and meet Kathy, and yes, oh yes… Ride that horse. It seemed forever on that sunny afternoon to hurry down the sandy road, but hurry I did, my thin long legs in stride of a run, because I knew my time was short, and I had to get astride that horse, because it was a promise, and had I asked, well, I knew my mother would say no. Now, if father were only home, he would say, “sure” and would walk me down to Kathy’s house, just to see his daughter astride that lovely brown stallion. It was his wish to have given me my long-wished for dream, but money was always being taken from Peter to pay Paul, and there was no way I would ever own one, then. Kathy was waiting. Now, she being a few years older, knew the horse sense in teaching horse sense. She wasn’t about to let me up on that stallion until she had taught me a few things. I was silently begging God to please allow her to just let me on the horse…didn’t she know my time was short? But no, if she knew I was there without permission, I was dead in the water. The sun began to feel hot [or was it my fevered imagination?] as Kathy explained technical aspects of a horse’s leather equipment, how to place the bit just so, how to show “no fear” to an animal, but handle them tenderly, and with love. Oh, I was in love with the horse all right, but he reared back. Horses sense too much I thought, and I was now afraid the horse knew of my escape. Would he punish me? Or would He punish me? We had the horse out in the corral now, and Kathy was about to lift me astride the horse, when “Kathy! Phone for you,” her mother called through the screen door. Sigh. I would have to wait. But I couldn’t wait, so I held my breath while she crawled over the gate, and scampered into the house. Then, yes, that box over there. That would give me the height I needed to get on the horse myself. It didn’t matter that he had no saddle on – I had ridden bareback before. The stallion was standing so quietly, even when I moved the wood box over to his left side. And I kept praying, “just stay still”… And everything was okay, as I grabbed his mane for a firm hold, then pushed off the box, at which time the screen door slammed, and the horse reared, and I went backwards, over the barbed wire fence, grazing it with my back, and onto the gravel. Just then Kathy was standing over me, saying, “that was your mom. You’d best get home.” The look in her eyes told me two things. I was in deep trouble…and not with just my mom. The disappointment I saw in this older girl’s eyes immediately made me resolve right then and there… Not to ever try to get away with anything like this again… My back, bleeding from the barbed wire, my backside covered with gravel dust and pieces of sharp rock still sticking to my arms, I continued to brush myself off and tried so hard to keep from crying all the way home. I was bruised, and sore, and punishment was straight ahead. Yep, Mom had dad’s belt in her hand, but when she saw me limping, and it was not an exaggeration on my part, held back, saying, “you’re grounded.” It was enough. So…there are other horse stories down the road. But when I come back in another life? It won’t be in human form… |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Ahhh I am enjoying all these wonderfull stories...thanks ladies... keep em a comin  |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
sorry I haven't been here... just wanted to let you all know how much I appreciate all the kind words... they have been much needed and mean so much more to me than you know... thank you... |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
and, Karen?... you can call me whatever you like...(within reason...grin) as long as I can continue to call you 'sis'...smile... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Hi everybody. I just wanted to tell you all that I keep feeling drawn back here to this thread. Everyone of you are so deep in my heart. I feel as if I've known you all personally for years and years. You all feel like more than friends to me. You feel like family. No matter what I may be doing or thinking or feeling during the day, so many of you keep creeping into my thoughts. I loved you all before this thread, and felt that I knew you, but now I'm beginning to feel that I KNOW you. I wish so much that we could all sit around and talk and tell each other our hearts and our secrets. Well, heck, that's what we're doing, isn't it??? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Yes, Ethel...that's what we're doing. A box of Kleenex, a few wine glasses, [a lot of cheese for Karilea], and a bunch of reminiscing... that's how the world revolves. You know, the storytellers were the keepers of the fire. It didn't matter if it was the woman, or the man, that told the stories...it was what connected us with our past, and what gave forbearance to the future. We are supposed to learn from the past, in order to go forward. But the true storytellers have receded into shadows, for so many reasons; it is up to all of us to rekindle the flame, and bring forth the memories, once again. Now, Ethel...isn't it YOUR turn? |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
karen- That li'l story reminds me of the All-night choke and puke in Yuma, Az. I don't really remember the place (mayhaps Alicat could oblige), however it is right on the main drag through town on the south side of the street. Anyhow, all of the musicians used to go there after the shows (the few that there were in mighty downtown Yuma), and we became part of the funriture, we were there so often. It got to the part that whomever was in need of coffee, would get up andf get it themselves, and would usually get a chorus of "Me, too" and would go around the room puring for the waitress. And, damned if my lead guitarist didn't have better legs than the waitresses. Some people are like Slinkies . . . not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Easter will soon be here, a time when city parents will, with no thought to foresight, bring home chicks and baby rabbits for their children’s Easter basket. The sadness in this, is that the hapless “presents” are not toys. Once we had moved from Los Angeles, up to Nipomo, one of dad’s intents was to teach us kids how to be self-sufficient. Starting at ages 7, and 5, respectively, it surely wasn’t too soon. This is when I remember Mom really getting her first bit of education in canning. Then, Dad taught Mom how to turn out huge, fragrant loaves of homemade bread. She had already learned how to stretch hamburger six ways from Sunday. When a house smells good, no one seems to worry about what they don’t have. There, in Nipomo, we had chickens. I didn’t think much of them, for dad had gotten them fully grown. So, I was educated in chickens in a backward fashion; we gathered eggs, and enjoyed the young roosters in various edible forms throughout the year; but we really hadn’t learned about chickens until we moved away from Nipomo and relocated in Santa Maria. Now, my brother and I were 8 and 6. At that time, we were still in another rental home, but again, it was just outside the city’s limits. This is the time when Dad trucked home huge flats of…chicks. We kids hadn’t realized that Dad had spent the few nights before working out in the garage, preparing for their arrival. We did know that we had been given the chore of cleaning out the old hen house that sat on the south side of the property. We had raked out old, pungent hay, and had removed weeds from around the outside. Dad had done the hard work, nailing up new chicken wire, and had replaced a few “roosts” and put in new boxes. Some things were never questioned, and I knew we were tenants, so I figured the landlord had asked for the repairs. But then came the flats. And a lot of chirping was going on inside. It was right around Easter, so of course we two kids were pretty excited. But Dad had it pretty much under control. After the excitement of touching, watching, and holding several of the 50 some chicks, Dad got down to business. He explained how, for a couple of weeks, the electric lightbulb needed to stay on overhead of the chicks, and that meant night AND day; how the shallow pans of water needed to stay in corners of his hatchery, and how we needed to check on their feed (which reminded me of small bits of oatmeal, coarse and dusty). There was a small screened floor for the chicks in this squatty hatchery. Dad showed us how to clean up the sheets of paper below the screen. So, water, food, cleaning, a daily chore. Which meant we could also watch, touch, and pick up the chicks. A little work, a lot of love. What child’s world could be better than this? My bedroom was situated where I could watch the garage from my window. No one asked, but I became the chick’s guardian of light. I could see the electric bulb’s yellow glow through the garage window at night, before I was tucked into bed. If the light was on, the chicks were warm. It should not be surprising to any of you, that Dad and I arose early each morning, when it was still dark outside – so the first thing my eyes looked for was that light. I knew if it was off, we could loose our chicks. Even though they huddled for warmth at night, the light helped them maintain their body temperatures. Spring was, even in California, an “iffy” time of year; for all of a day’s sunshine, the nights got cool and moist. We had watched over the chicks for about ten days, and the weekend was upon us. I awoke, feeling “something” was wrong, and looked out the window. The light was OUT! I didn’t even wait to find a bathrobe or my slippers, I ran [as quietly as a seven year old can run] through the house and out the screen door, which banged like a shotgun when it slammed shut. Down the steps, across the lawn, and through the garage door. There was Dad, changing lightbulbs. He had seen the bulb flickering from the kitchen as he was making coffee, and had gone out to change it. He just smiled at his panicked little girl, and nodded his head, a knowing great smile playing around his lips. I was doing my job, just right. |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Yer beautiful Karilea...So was this story...I could see it all happening before me. Now lil chicks would be a better gift than chocolate bunnies at Easter time Bella Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Ahhh Karilea...you've conjured up a memory.....doesn't happen much with me.. seeing my memory is shocking. My friends call me Dory, yanno from Finding Nemo. sighhh. anyway... Talking bout chicks...we had a chicken Pen, well Mum and Dad did...we had hens and roosters and sometimes little chicks. Sometimes Mum and Dad would go to the farms or the produce and buy hens.. ready for layin. This one time they brought home this pretty hen.. yes pretty lol. She was just so darn pretty.. I mean she was white as snow and her um comb? was like a bright red. I mean she stood out from the others... she was model material, she left them for dead. My brother and I fell in love with her, we decided to adopt her. We named her ...are you ready for this? ROSIE! haha We had turns of taking her out of the pen and taking her to our play area in the backyard..oh, we'd pet her and hold her and look into her eyes and we'd put her upon our shoulders LOL and she would stay, she was one hellova chick, she was a babe and she darn well knew it too LOL. Hell, we even took photos with Rosie, Rosie sitting beside us, Rosie in our arms, Rosie sitting on our shoulders...yep. This went on for ages I don't recall how long we had her but one Sunday morning Mum came to us..her eyes to the floor and uslooking up at her.. waiting for the news we were about to get. Mum had found Rosie on her back (lol) legs up in the air stiff as a.... well nevermind, words fail me. She had died through the night. We didn't know why nor how...Our Rosie was dead..... Mum brought her up to us and we said our last goodbyes through tears. We.. my brother and I were devasted. We buried Rosie in the backyard somewhere between the pumpkins and whatever else was around. We had a cross made for her as well...with her name and the date on it. I think we killed her with our love. We were so upset for weeks after that....but as kids do...we eventually got over it, the death that is... but not Rosie..once in a blue moon we remember her still. hehe thanks Karilea. Brings a smile it does. Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karilea & Dark Angel, such sweet stories. Brought smiles they did.....and my own chicken memory. Well, no, the chicken was not mine, and my mind isn't like a chickens.....ummm....what I meant was....my first husband's mother was from a very small town in Nova Scotia. It was quite common for people to have chickens in their backyards. Well, this one resident's chickens were always getting out and wandering up and down the streets. On a nice spring day, one of the chickens actually boarded a bus and travelled to the next town!! True story! Ha ha haaaaaaa. Everytime I heard my ex-mother-in-law tell that tale, I would have questions in my mind, like: Did the chicken have to stand in line? Did the chicken have to pay the fee? Did the chicken get a good seat? and.... How did the chicken get home? Hugs to all. Chris |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
LOL.. now that is funny...yeah, how did they get home? did they even get home? lol thanks for the laugh Chris. Maree Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"How did the chicken get home?" Well, had she been a duck, she might have taken the bus. Smile. You just reminded me of a story... This'n is about one of those many ludicrous moments in my life that have left me convinced that the only reason for my existance is to simply amuse "the powers that be." I used to work in the State Pharmacy. (um, well yes, that's another story too ) And yes, I was so notoriously late that I actually had the audacity to complain to my boss one day that "the day just drags by" when I got there on time. (*wince* I know.)But anyhoo--I had learned that the delivery guys in the basement had actually started a pool, gambling on how many minutes late I would be each day. (*wince* I know.) Furthermore, I had learned that the time increments didn't even include the possiblity of my being on time! "Hey...!"So, once having learned that, I finally found some incentive to arrive to work on time. I knew the size of the pool had gotten quite large, and "the pot" was nothing to shake a timecard at either. I was determined to make it to work on time, and march right down to the basement and declare myself the winner! I woke that Monday morning with plenty of time. Good thing too. Flash Flood Watch Nodding. YEP. It was raining cats and dogs. And, apparently, DUCKS. I waded down to the bustop (conveniently located one block from my home too--*wince* I know) and stood there waiting for the bus, with a useless umbrella tilted sideways now--the rain was being pummeled horizontal by the wind. Just as I'm beginning to wonder if my goal was worth it, a duck walked up to the bustop to stand behind me in the pouring rain. That's right. A duck. Quack Quack. In the rain. At the bustop, and I was SOAKED too. The 7:30 bus was standing room only crowded too. But yes, they all got quite a laugh at the sight of me and my new found friend, "Da Duck", wetly waiting to go to work on time. Sigh. The Gods love to laugh at me. And I was still three minutes late, too! Needless to say, I never tried that again! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
ROFLMAO...or should I say "duck"? Oh Serenity, I'm laughing so hard I'm hurting myself! Because? I can SEE it! Pass the Kleenex and someone get out of the bathroom! |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
"DUCK" Karen... LOL I can see it too.... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
The excitement was in her voice, and I had already heard her father’s reaction to the news. Now she tumbled over what she had told him. “Mom, we’re moving.” In a few brief seconds, having seen her father’s face, I knew he was unhappy with the news, not so much because he would miss the grandchildren, but his disappointment was more of a “what are they doing now to screw up their life” kind of reaction. “Oh honey, that’s great!” Saying words I didn’t feel. She chattered on and on about what they were going to do, the homes they would be looking for, the schools they would be checking in to, and I heard a little of the cart before the horse type of talking, and felt the glare of eyes in my back. “Let me know what I can do.” The calm words kept coming from me. Granted, only 45 minutes from my heart, as the crow flies. But three young smiles, six warm armed hugs, millions of kisses yet to be given… “I’m sure you’re going to make everything work out just fine!” That was yesterday. Today? I want to be selfish and all I can do is not let anyone else know how long the tears fell, or how much my heart aches. It’s only 45 minutes away. From the next gusher. [This message has been edited by Sunshine (03-29-2004 01:37 PM).] |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Karilea?... I wish I had a story tonight... I feel as if I need one... But the story, tonight, isn't mine... I can feel it, though...it's unsettling... Something, tonight, just doesn't feel 'right'... or maybe I just need sleep... Hugs...and a peaceful night to you all... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hugging sunshine. I can do that here and not get burnt. Ah, it's Spring... and I spent the weekend enjoying the fact of that. Spring in New Orleans means azaleas and crayfish, St. Joseph's altars, and daffodils so early they die overnight. (I admonish those early blooms, and dig the bulbs to freeze again. I'll trick 'em into a second bloom come June or July.) Spring in New Orleans...barbecues and outdoor jazz as the musicians start tuning up for our International Jazz & Heritage Show. (We've already splurged for David Bowie tickets--in the Saengar Theatre too!) I love the Saengar. http://www.saengertheatre.com/history.htm Designed to mimic a Greek (er, ITALIAN--pardon) amphitheater, there are only a few stairs, and yes, all carpet and brass, and if you get good seats on the floor, (and we did) you get to sit beneath a faux painted sky, complete with twinkling "stars". The sound there is acoustically perfect--and while I can't say that I've never seen a bad show there, I will say that I've never had a bad time. Hmmm...Memories. We saw DEVO there--Frank Zappa, The Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, Jethro Tull, Genesis, Talking Heads, and once, we even caught three nights in a row of STYX--the Mr. Roboto thang (don't ask... ) yes, I'll be smacking myself later for all the others I've forgotten to list.And? Spring in New Orleans means...ROACHES. Big flying suckers too. We go through this every spring as we live by the woods, and these "roaches" are actually palmetto bugs, and right behind our house is...you guessed it. A wooded area filled with their green leafed namesakes. I knew it was that time, Friday night, when I heard my normally manly fourteen-year old son shreik, "MOM!" from the bathroom. I wince thinking of what happened as I heard all the banging and fumbling about in there. Then he came out, blushing, saying with dignity, "It looks like the DISCOVERY channel in there!" Uh Oh. I went in there and discovered that the insect world had joined the rest of us in the rites of Spring. FOUR of them, on the wall--MATING. Sigh. I killed all four of them, imagining a slaughter of the potential of thousands. I sprayed the one that got "away" with RAID--and I grimly shut the door. "Keep it closed." I said unnecessarily. My children already know the rule of using spray pesticides on the flying palmetto bug. All that stuff does is make them devious enough to fly at you, while they take their time in the dying. Another thing? Flying amongst roaches seems to be contagious. When one starts? They all go for it. It's like a flying insect MOSH PIT. It is Hell, for the uninitiated. grin...beware, good tourists. Springtime in Paris--it ain't. The rains started up today, with one of those unexpected thunderings that lingers and threatens to weep the tears of the world in one fell swoop. I liked it though. I was sitting beneath a tin porch roof when it broke, and I was astounded at how quickly that stifling pregnant pause of a front pushed through. I'd forgotten how good "release" could feel. I got wet too, running to the truck, and I was grouchy before I ran, but something cleansing happens running through the rain--and I climbed into the truck, laughing, remembering that I'd been born wet. It's Springtime in New Orleans, and I'm sitting here in the dark. (The sun goes down so slow behind clouds.) I've got an old sandal ready to thwart the springtime principles of certain insects, and I am hoping somewhere, someone, has a story of spring to share with me. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
i just have to poke in my little voice and say you tell a darned good cockroach story! LOL...if you ever feel the kids need more exercise, spray a few of them roaches and lock the kids in the room with them...will have em' running in no time flat! ``````````````````````````````` this is a lovely place to rest, and learn, and smile and cry...and all of you so graceful |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Hello Karen me love! Ah, yes, spring. Brings out the roaches in New Orleans? Yuck. Remind me to tell you about our summertime visitors...the wicked earwig family!! Anyway, getting back to spring. Reminds me of when I was little, or should I say, young? Yes, young. Easter meant "big sister-little sister" dresses and white gloves, black patent leather shoes you could see your face in, and those little ankle socks with the fold down lacey cuff. Nancy Lee and I looked like we just walked out of a scene from Leave it to Beaver or The Donna Reed Show. lol. And hats! Oh, we must not forget our Easter bonnets. Sometimes they were actually decorated by our grandmother with "odds and sods" as she used to call her assortment of bows, buttons and artificial flowers etc. Everything was picture perfect....perfect....hmmm. But, we could always count on the Easter Bunny to bring goodies. Whenever I think of spring, I recall the new skipping ropes, hula hoops, bubbles, kites, and ooooh.....batta-ball....remember them?!! The ping pong paddle type thing with the little ball attached to it with elastic? You had to try to see if you could hit the ball as many times as possible. I never got past one or two....but my sister was great at it. Made me soooo angry. lol. Must not forget either, colouring eggs. The smell of vinegar and oh, the pinks, blues and yellows and greens. Ah.At our house though we had real rabbits. The basement had families of them. My father would give them away in his magic act. One became our pet. He was black and we named him Midnight. He was so sweet. He would come up from the basement, knock on the door to be let in, then go to the refrigerator and beg for it to be opened. Carrots....carrots were in there. Well, he liked more than just carrots! One time we all had to go out of town for some type of magic gig. We didn't realize until we returned after a long day, that we had forgotten to close the kitchen door which led down to the basement. The basement and ..... Midnight. He had had the time of his bunny life. My mother's plants had big bite chunks out of their leaves, the ones that were not toppled over. Rabbit droppings left a raisin-like trail all over the house. The oddest thing that Midnight took a liking to that spring outing, was my doll buggy. Not the buggy part itself....but the tires. The rubber on the tires. Yes, Midnight had eaten chunks of my buggy tires!! Now when I took my dollies for a walk, their eyes almost shook out of their heads from the wobbling due to lack of tread. LOL. After that, Midnight was never quite the same. It must have been a mixture of exotic ivy gorging, or ravenous rubber ripping. Whatever....he went mad. Crazy I tell ya! I went downstairs to play with him shortly after that and he had a tiny patch of fur missing I noticed. Should have known something was wrong. He used to love to stand on his hind legs and play boxing with me. This time his eyes looked glazed and instead of just hopping around with his little front paws poking at my small fists, he showed his teeth and lunged for me!!!! I was horrified and ran screaming upstairs, Midnight right at my heels. Luckily he never got the chance to bite me. The once loving black rabbit, disappeared not long after that incident. I don't think he was made to disappear through "magic." I have another rabbit story, but that's for some other day. Spring....yes, spring. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
sssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... she is actually John Irving. gleeeeeeeeeeeeeee This IS John Irving material. Somebody oughtta tell him, huh? Write the book, chrislane... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
And? ""big sister-little sister" dresses and white gloves, black patent leather shoes you could see your face in, and those little ankle socks with the fold down lacey cuff" Do I have to ask? (of course) we want PICS!!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Shhhhh...now come with me? I know this little place...the omelets are good. C'mon... There are times I like to try to capture the essence of the music that I write to--I like the explosion of jazz jets singing alone against the stark bassline barely breathing, the way the cymbals somtimes snap, like-that, like a twig too hot in the fire--there are times I'm so lost in the jazz I give birth to demons, rising and pulsating codes under my skin, looking like my pulse- but no, something new is being born--or else I am the memory of the ultimate and damn ye damn ye for that, I'll sing and push my hips from thier boned place and jut, just like that last note did, slightly out of place but oh-my-baby? Did you see the contrast? I know a few jazz places...if they're still there, we'll go. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Loving this thread...loving the memories. Yes, Spring, and Midnight, the man eating rabbit, and Easter. Somewhere there is a picture Karen of us in our big sister, little sister dresses. But, it was also Mom as well, in the same dress!! Well, not the same dress but the indentical one! A mother and her daughters emsemble! Oh good grief..what a sight we must have been!! And, sweet Nana who made us our Easter bonnets. Things she made were really neat, even after her eyesight went and she still made us dolls and stuffed animals..one arm or leg would be much shorter than the other, but we loved them anyway. And, of course brother Joey the dummy had a new Easter suit as well. We think he liked it, couldn't really tell with that same smile on his face all the time. Know what I remember about Easter morning? And, I'll bet Chris remembers as well. I do believe it was our first real look into the world of poetry. You see, on Easter morning we would awaken to a note at the foot of our bed from the Easter Bunny. It was always a little poem which included hints as to where we could find our next surprise. Off we would run and along with the surprise was another rhyming hint, another surprise and another hint. Awww, what fun we had. Something that I carried on with my own children and I imagine Chris did as well with Heather. Yup spring...and everything was new and exciting. Like a new trapeze in the basement! Oh, that's another story. And that bat-a-ball thingy? I never had another one until last year when I won one at our friend's cottage...and I can still make it go a hundred miles an hour! Gee...I hope Chris doesn't find that picture of us in our dresses. Karen...I'm ready to come with you...wait up!! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh, I hope she does, and if she does? I'll share mine, too! I want to visit those places where jazz is birthed, Serenity... save me a seat... and now you all have sparked some new memories... Such are the lives of the storytellers... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
I wanna go to a jazz place with ya Karen!  Nancy Lee.....I don't think I have any of the Easter pics. Gee....did they have camera's back then? LOL. Yes, of course, Kodak Brownie Cameras!! Oh, another memory! Those clunky box type cameras. Black and white photos....ha hahaaa. You know, I was just thinking....Dad used to eat those darned boiled, coloured eggs! Was that a safe thing to do? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"wild women don't worry--wild women don't get da blues..." |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
 With love.... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I am procrastinating, and in the act of putting off what needs to be done, have reached the level of finding an excuse. Mark Twain is always good for an excuse. quote: It is March, 2004. In March, 2002, I started a small piece of prose. A couple or more of well-intentioned poets/writers/artists-in-their-own-right said, “more, please.” Hey, I like pleasing people. So after about 20 such responses to the “please, more” requests, someone said [I won’t name her, I will thank her, but I won’t name her, she knows who she is… ] “this is too good to stay on here – get it off before someone steals it, and get the whole thing written.”Good advice. Ron, dear that he is, helped me out because that was before I had universal “poofing” powers, and removed all 20 some posts. And so the story grew. Life being what it is, I would walk away from it because, heck, poetry seemed a little easier, and a lot more fun, interaction and reactions being what they are. Every now and then I would send some updates to my “Dingers” [poets who wanted to be notified of updates], those who said, “let us know how it’s going to turn out.” Encouragement abounded, all the way around. Time went on. There were some days when the novel seemed to take on a life of its own; hours would disappear into the daylight, and chapters would just..appear. Some generous muse was apparently bored with what it was doing elsewhere, so for amusement, would visit me, and fill my mind with schemes and lines so fast my fingers could barely keep up. When life kept me from getting back to the book, I fretted. When I had time, but no muse, I fretted. And when January 4, 2004 came along to close the final chapter of the book? I fretted. In a display of complete trust, I gave the book to three individuals. One copy when to my trusted friend, mentor, advisor, and subsequently, editor, Louise, to read, and edit. Then another copy went to a wonderful couple who live in Houston, and I didn’t fret that I had to watch their faces as they read [or didn’t read] the four hundred plus pages. In the hands of others, I knew my rough draft was safe. It was like a mini-vacation for the mind, knowing I didn’t have to get to it; and alternatively, it was a mini-vacation from my child, and I didn’t know if I would survive the holiday. I was sure my child was glad I was no longer fretting over it, but wondered if it missed me as much as I did it. And then it was returned to me in two ways. The first way was to get some much appreciated feedback from my Houston friends. Objective feedback, at that. “Supplement this person’s life; create a little more tension; no, you’re fine there, but add this here…” All good thoughts. They weren’t mangling my child; they were dressing it for a command performance. Then, Louise returned my original baby to me. Unsure of how much to slash and cut, she was kind and “learned to read” in my voice. As we discussed her thoughts on it, my own thought was; she’s my friend. She was “over-kind” to me, and didn’t even use a red pen. So we discussed some of the suggestions made by the Houstonites, some nodding and shaking of heads occurred, and my “baby” came home. That was the first of March. Now? Now I’ve gone through eleven chapters and yes, the novel is undergoing a full re-write. I think I shocked poor Louise when I told her I was taking my voice “out”, and putting “everyone’s” voice in. I have a lot of friends around the world, but in reality, if this book IS ever picked up by someone who says “yes, we may have found a , then I know it’s got to be readable by those who do NOT know me.So tonight, I’m procrastinating. I think what has happened is I am wondering if I am slashing, adding, editing, revising TOO much. Or, it’s going so smoothly, and making too much sense, that I could soon be at the end of the re-writing process, and the time to find an agent will be upon me. I will have to write a proposal and sell myself, as well as the premise of the storyline. If I were a bride, I would call the syndrome, cold feet. But I’m a middle-aged, twice-married, professional woman who is wondering why I cannot simply say to myself: You have a good job, you are respected in the community, you give of your time to this and that and your grandchildren, your mother-in-law, your husband, your friends; you are not super-intelligent and you are not naïve. So, why are you pushing yourself toward possible failure? Because I can? Or, Because I must? My heart is pounding. I know I am at a cross-roads. If this adventure finds success, I know it will change my life. I’m weighing how much change I can afford to take on. I’m looking at Twain’s quote again. This book did not refuse to be written. It seemed, for the most part, to be telling of, and writing, itself. There. I think I’ve talked myself out of this period of procrastination. Thank you, Serenity. I don’t know that I could have put down these thoughts anywhere else. Yes, me too, you. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karilea, dear lady, you write: "So, why are you pushing yourself toward possible failure?" I was taught..."there is no such thing as failure, only results." The "results" tell us "brava, you done good kid." Or, "hmmm...well what did you learn from this honest try?" You will let your "baby" out of the nest when the time is right. Then let's all watch it fly!!! Hugs, Chris |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Karilea...? You know, that I know, the time is just about right! Love ya lady! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Nancy Lee....and you know that I know, that you know that she knows. Ya know? |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Yup...I know! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
I say, "It's about time that book got off the ground!" I said so then, and I will say so now, it was "too good" to stay on the internet, and of course now I am dying to know it will be received. It was something that had to be written, and now it finally is ready. Good luck Karilea. I just stopped in for a bit to get caught up in here, and saw this. Busy, busy these days but I pop in now and then and phone Karen for my updates LOL.Geez Karen, you had to talk about those flying cockroaches didn't ya? Now I will dream of those suckers and wake up with a stiff neck from ducking them in my sleep all night - YUCK! You just had to tell me that they can fly didn't ya? I never, ever want to meet one of these things personally, ever! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Kari, of course I don't mind. In fact, I'm laughing here, because I'm kinda going through the same thing. I keep getting mail from journal readers who are urging me to "shaddup and write the book." I'm beginning to feel as wacked as Kevin Costner with that voice in my head. So I started thinking on "Field of Dreams" and "if you build it, they will come." Which led me to thinking about baseball, and legends, which led me to think how much my father loved baseball, which led me---well, ya'll should know all about my shaky thinking processes by now. This journal is an accurate enough example. But anyhoo--I understand if you've got work to do. It's taken me a year of distracting myself (here and elsewhere) just to narrow down a story and choose a format. But I feel like shouting that accomplishment from the rooftops. My "book" is actually a bunch of post it notes stuck on the wall, which refer to notes in a marble notebook(s). I like to use the post-it notes because I can move them around, fine-tuning sequencing and changing formats on a whim. (I get a lotta those.) I didn't know it when I was starting but I have been "storyboarding" for about a year now. (I didn't know that was a term--I just thought it was "look busy while procrastinating.") So...yes. And I type this to all, feel free to post your daily worries, hopes, joys, and yes, yesterday memories here. And if one or all of us gets busy, this will be here for somebody to blow the dust off and scribble in an entry. (I don't think I'm going anywhere--I've actually found this journal helpful as a "warm-up"--it gets the little nagging detail stories out of the way and puts me in the "zone" to sew those post it notes together.) I pray one day, we'll be playing tag on the best-seller list! Love to ya lady! And to all-- let's play ball! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Yep, storyboards. First time I heard that term was from Uncle Walt, himself... You should have heard the chewing out I got when I told himself, when he asked if I had an outline for the novel, and I said no. "Well then how the hell do you know what you're going to write about?" "That's just it. I don't. It's writing itself." He's thinking straight-jackets, of course... And I'm thinking "let it come, Muse, let it come..." |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Laughing now. I just needed it. I'm hardly what you might call a "linear thinker". And when I find myself with a mess, I have this tendency to toss it ALL in the trash! (I just did that about two months ago, too.) sheesh. This may be the closest thing to self-discipline that I've exhibited in years! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ain't the mental wet-noodle fun, though? I could stick up post-it notes as well as the next person, and I would love doing so, except I live with a very, uhm, let's see, what's the nicest way to put this...particularly, painstakingly, fussy & orderly person.... [see that under anal retentive...] so I don't "DO" post-it notes... sigh...but, it may be a good thing, because if I DID? I might not be able to see my computer screen... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
He touches YOUR STUFF??? Hmmm. But now you have a good idea why mine just built a new cage to keep me in...with the French doors I wanted, too! (and sighing, we're ready for the ceramic tile too.) He told me that the French doors were a bit pricey for someone with a habit of slamming doors. I sweetly pointed out that I would be less likely to break something that I LOVED-- He got my "drift." |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
He doesn't "touch" my stuff much anymore [hmmmmm]...*giggle* but I DO hear about it if my office is less than orderly...and let's face it, my little office is just that, and there's not much room for "messy" to take over. Although, when I was on the board for legal professionals, it was known to look like a tornado had gone through more than once... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
How come you guys all get a "room" for your computer and stuff? I only get a little corner of the house....no door, not even a partition or haninging beads!! Sometimes I find myself singing that song from Cinderella, "in my own little corner, in my own little chair, I can be whatever I want to beeeeeeeeee" |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
I used to have my own "office." sigh but the baby's taking that over... and for some reason i had to move out five months before she's due to be born. Now I get to share the dining room with the cats... *pout* |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
That's 'cause I'm on the other end of the spectrum, Chris...the kids are gone and gone... ...Chrislane, I don't know why you don't get an office. Do you have a spare room you can convert?? I know I need more SPACE!!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I don't have the "office" yet. I have to move there first. The office/bedroom/cage was a blatant bribe to get me to leave my beloved cypress park. That, and ta-da! CABLE!!! (If it weren't for Mysteria I would have forgotten the sound of a telephone ring completely! )and aw...Christopher? Hugs on the nesting. The only thing sweeter than decorating a nursery, is um, well, decorating your own office. giggle. But then, I had my time. You enjoy yours. mmmmm. Baby lotion and talcum. sigh. You win, buddy. You definitely win. and then you get bragging rights too. Zach just won an art scholarship for the summer at The New Orleans Center for Creative Arts. Cool stuff, eh? Life is good. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Yes, we have a spare room upstairs....but it scares me! It's where my hubby keeps a mountain goat hide with those awful, yellow eyes and where he had to put the black bear hide that I accidentally removed some of it's fur when I was vacuuming. When I had to move the bear hide to another spot just recently, it's arm fell completely off!! I haven't told hubby yet. Plus, there's that ugly set of moose antlers. Try tripping over them sometime!! Christopher - you have a baby?!! Wow...you look so young. And here I felt intimidated by you....hee hee. Well, actually I still do...but not as much....I'm rambling again. Bye! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and Chrislane? Try begging. I did and it worked. Except I sang a different tune: "All I want is a room somewhere, Far away from the cold night air. With one enormous chair, Aow, wouldn't it be loverly? Lots of choc'lates for me to eat, Lots of coal makin' lots of 'eat. Warm face, warm 'ands, warm feet, Aow, wouldn't it be loverly?" "Wouldn't it be loverly?" --My Fair Lady YEP. I SANG LOUD, over and over again, until he relented. I am annoying when I beg. Once? We were in the grocery, and I ADORE mangoes, but they were out of season and pretty pricey at that. But I just had to have 'em. He looked at the price and said, "no way." So I held two mangoes at breast height, and followed him through the grocery, jiggling my mangoes and making them "talk": "Please suh! We do so want to come home with you!" "Just put the damned things in the buggy, and be quiet, wouldja?" |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Don't let Chris fool ya. Chris, you have a beautiful computer area all to yourself with a beautiful view! Complete with fireplace, and other various wild animals which said spouse does not keep upstairs in the scarey room. I took over my office...yup..slowly, one day at a time..slowly and deliberately. Wiz is now permanently in the dungeon with the raccoon we acquired from Chris's hubby. Wonderful bro-in-law he is. Hi Rick!Christopher, enjoy the time with your baby when he/she arrives..it goes by in the blink of an eye. Oooh..memories...love the scent of a newborn!! Nothing quite like it..... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
"We've got sunlight on the sand... we've got moonlight on the seas... we've got mangoes and bananas .. you can pick right off the trees." "We ain't Got Dames" South Pacific lol....Karen in the grocery store jiggling her mangoes!! Still, it is just a corner of the house, but I guess a corner is better than nothin'. Rick has put up with my angels and fairies, seashells and scented candles. I guess I can deal with his stuffed owl staring down at me. Geesh, no wonder my muse keeps taking off on holiday! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah, progression and babies…they seem to go hand in hand. So we’ve progressed to office stories. Heh. I like my office story… When we moved into our three bedroom house 14 years ago, give or take a few months, we had a cat, dog, two kids, and of course, two adults. [Sometimes argued against, but oh well…] The smallest bedroom went to the littlest kid, and the bigger of the smaller rooms went to the older kid, and we got the main room [not all that big, but when all you do is sleep…ah....well]. My oldest daughter moved out six months later, so the youngest daughter moved into the middle room, and we kept the smaller room as a “guest room”. Just a bed, some small set of drawers, very simple. My mother was able to visit in 1992 before she passed away a few months later, and stayed in our “guest” room. But the bed was not comfortable, so we gave her our daughter’s bed, who in the meantime decided she wanted to live “downstairs” in the basement [a couple of more small rooms down there, in addition to a large laundry area, and a family room.] She was demanding [sigh] her privacy…[Christopher, that’s a hint…they grow up!] The small bedroom slowly made its transition into a sitting room. No one sat in it much. We “lived” a lot in the basement where the largest TV resides [we have, at last count, six of ‘em…and, do TV’s reside?] Anyway, I did most everything from writing letters to Christmas cards to paying bills in my lap or on a TV tray downstairs. After a while [or was it my age?] I thought “this is ridiculous” and started clamoring not only for a small desk which we could put upstairs in the “sitting room” but a computer, as well. Now, by this time, youngest daughter was out of the house, so hubby wanted me to move into the downstairs area a/k/a former bedroom and you know what? I was getting pretty danged tired of the basement. Every house we had lived in during our marriage has had a basement [except for the CA homes] and I was tired of living “in the dark”, so to speak. I wanted fresh air and SUNSHINE! I suggested we put a desk in the “sitting room” and work from there. The “first office” was a joke. It had a standard desk which we bought as a kit with a small hutch. I love putting things together, and was proud when it didn’t fall apart. But, when we put a computer monitor on top of it, we lost most of any desk “area” for working. Stacking, yes, but working? No. So, we both played in the office, but our playtime wasn’t conducive to our marriage. Neither was sharing one computer. Now, let me digress. Over the last few years, our firm has generously “voted” to give staff a bonus at the end of each year, depending on how well we did financially. A “pool” of specified dollars is split between the staff members who have been at the firm a full year or more, and/or have maintained a full year’s worth of employment [go on a 3 month hiatus for having a baby and you’re out…but if you take a normal six weeks maternity leave, you’re not dinged]. The first year, it was a very modest bonus, but welcome all the same. Paid for Christmas presents. In the last few years, it’s been what I would call “substantial” [Paid for the cruise, hey?!] But I jumped ahead. About 2.5 years ago, just prior to guessing that it was going to be a “good year” fiscally, my husband decided to take over the “old” computer and let me get a good one, which he would buy. I ended up with my XP, and it’s been purring ever since. [I treat her nice.] He took the old one, and put it on a makeshift table down in the basement. About the time it died, [I don’t think it liked the dark] it was time for our bonus to arrive, right after Christmas, and my present to me was a new L-shaped desk w/hutch, which I put together myself. We moved the old desk downstairs into the old bedroom, and husband set up “his” office, by immediately going out and buying a little less expensive XP model [after all, I got one, didn’t I? Don’t you love compromise?] So, two computers on two different floors…works much better than trying to share an office. Mine is “all me” as is his, all his. Then a little over a year ago some of you may be aware that we did a total remodel job of the house. Well, I dug my heels in again, because there were some rooms in which I wanted to have wood floors. Did I waver? Nope, not an inch. I have wood floors in my kitchen and dining area, in my office, and in my other “spare” bedroom [I kind of live in there, too…] So now, I have my office just about the way I want it. Soft walls, a few framed keepsakes and a lot of knick-knacks, my wood floor and three small rugs; a great office chair, my rocker, the old antique washstand and one bookshelf that needs a mate; my crystals, my chimes, my west window overlooking the backyard, and a lot of soft lighting when I need it. Oh yes, a TV, too… See?  .jpg) And? Since I tried my DVD player on my computer the other day? I think now all I need in here is a coffee pot and a microwave, and I could call it HOME. [The bathroom is right across the hall and heck, I need some exercise… ]I LIVE in here! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
SWEET! and oh yes, I'm a happy bibliophile too. I will finally be able to shelve my library--I'm having built-ins made--with a windowseat! (He doesn't know this yet.) sighing...I'll have my library, my bed, my pc, AND a walk in closet with a vanity... all housed behind French doors (that I can CLOSE) the walls have been textured and painted a color called "Timescape". And since I have a penchant for storyboarding with post-it notes, the wall behind my desk will boast a sheet of plexi-glass, for just that purpose...I considered a mirror, but? NAH. I'd hate to have to put on make up to type. (I have never understood web-cam folks--no offense) ah...HOME. "He" may never see me again. Considering the mangoes? I think he's counting on it. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ser, I haven't counted my books, but we have another "nook" downstairs that houses shelves of books; and I have books in the bedrooms, stacked here and there...like I said, I need "another" bookshelf in my office...I really do! [I'm sure it wouldn't surprise you to know I have books/magazines in the bathroom, right?] And I get in to them a LOT.... And see the old washstand? It houses my CD's....gotta have my music, too... By the by...when we were remodeling? I wanted the whole west side of the house to go out about 4' thataway so I could do some of the fancy things you're going to be doing...sigh. Didn't win THAT battle.... [This message has been edited by Sunshine (04-01-2004 08:01 PM).] |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
You just remember the lesson of the mangoes... gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Heh...I think I need to send you a snapshot... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Gee. Thanks Kari. My breasts needed that encouragement. now sssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh.... everybody's sleeping. I already told you all that my son was the recipient of a scholarship to art camp this summer, right? Right. He's proud, and won't admit it. He's fourteen years old and his pride won't allow him to admit that he is tickled beyond belief. I wish ya'll could see him. He stands taller than I do now, and taller than his father too. He's handsome, with a slight resemblence to JFK Jr at that age. He is confident and easy in manner too. The girls are mad for him but he is decidedly uninterested. He had a girl once, the "sweater-girl"--she was the desire of all the boys, and I confess she tried my patience with her phone calls. I knew though, when those calls ceased, something was amiss. "When did you and "xxx" break up?" I asked my son casually. "How did you know?" he asked, wide-eyed. I played it mysterious. "Moms know," I replied. "Was it awful, baby?" (I so wanted to hold his hand again.) And he laughed. "Hell NO!" er...huh? I was ready to make the boy a cup of cocoa. "I was relieved!" Huh? "Tell me about it?..." I nodded toward the loveseat across from me, but he would have none of it. "Look," he said without too much drama, "It's like this. Women are a pain in the ass. One? They talk too much. Two? You have to buy them things. Three? It always seems to be the wrong thing!" Oh. I smiled. "I have things I want to do with my life--women will get in the way!" He slammed his bedroom door. Oh. I said, aloud, "it's okay if you're gay..." "I HEARD that!" as he cranked up some new torture--celtic deathmetal? But he's won this scholarship to a fairly prestigious school of art. The only way to get him there is to put him on the city bus too. (I'm a little ambivilant.) So I called my sister and told her. After due congratulations I voiced my apprehension: "Do you think it's okay? To send him into the city alone?" I didn't wait for her to answer. I answered myself: "I guess it's okay, I went to Mardi Gras alone at fourteen." silence. Then she answered: "Karen? At fourteen? I was married to a MARINE, pregnant and on a plane to California, and it turned out 'okay'." Gawd I love my sister. I only hope my son is half as sweet and twice as tough. If he is? Then nothing can harm him. thanks twist |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Zach - Congratulations and boy you deserve it! What an excellent way to spend the summer and get out of working too! Ah, 14, now that was a good year. If my memory serves me right I go along with your sister for the most part, except I didn't marry anyone, at least not that year. Heck I was taking the bus downtown to shop by 8 Karen, and flying by myself at 10, but times are different now that is for sure. Now, as for having an office, my solution was really quite simple to accomplish that. I got rid of the husband and the entire house became my office. Oh by the way Mrs. Serenity, you are the only person I know that I have to reach on a computer to say, get off - I am phoning! Seriously though, fantastic news on Zach's accomplishment, brag on Mom! And Karilea ... I know you are reading this - I hope you are dealing with that editing we are all waiting you know? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Serenity, my friend, your boy sounds like he'll make it to oh, about age 28, before that little girl [or any little girl] becomes "just the right" woman. Ok, ok, I see the independent males out there, shaking their heads, but you KNOW it happens at least once... But for now, I offer my heartiest congratulations. He truly doesn't realize that not every student is this talented or gets this kind of chance in life. We are all quite proud of him, and you can tell him I said so. Mysteria? I was really a good girl last night. I worked on two chapters, not only in hand-editing but then turning around and getting it onto the computer, too...so, in rough draft form, the book now stands at 466 pages, and 137,802 words. I guess you can say that my "first" effort was just one huge ROUGH DRAFT and I am now adding more dialogue, more depth, etc. Ok, I see the purists saying "less is more"...but it can't be less until more is seen, and then the hacking may commence! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
You need to meet my daughter, then. She has this thick chestnut hair, that once was blonde, and she has the assurance of a woman already--tossing that mane over her shoulders. I watch her sometimes and I'm just astounded. She says, "What?" laughing, and looks at me, and giggles, "Stop.." But I can't. She's gorgeous. She can write a story in the middle of chaos. I have seen her do it, too. She didn't think I was paying attention, but she took her notebook, off to the side, and wrote with the grace of a scribe in the middle of madness that we call we home. She writes the way I wish I could. Occasionally, she peeks at me, to see if I am looking--we both blush when we're caught. "Stop..." she smiles, totally pleased. We continue that game. There is something so lovely, so totally encompassing about beauty that doesn't realize itself. That's her. She has these long lashes that drift down; they leave leave palmetto shadows on her cheeks, and now and then? I catch a glimpse of the dew that's weeping from her eye, just before she blushes, protesting, "Stop..." My daughter writes tragedies. The Chinese say that might be good luck. It has to be, don't you think? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: I love her! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
1 April 04 [Lunch notes][no April Fool, except for the author… ]New leaves Turning, caught up in spin Air playing tag with leaf tips Yesterday’s matter Scattered mulched forsaken At least a grave Holds bones ~*~ Who scattered these thoughts? Tempestuous as they are, Not me, I cry [Chicken Little comes to mind] but no, not me, I would never put this sacred self (in His eyes) into mirrored misery. Where were the red flags? ~*~ Sports Bar NFL ceiling fans turn Un-smoked air, placed before Conditions of public censure Said “enough” They could save on electricity By turning eight of the ten off At least until the AC Needs kickin’ on Goal. ~*~ Play with me Glee sang merrily Abashed, humbled, Let the words fall Haphazardly Muse played I watched She smiled Somehow, All the words Jelled – some semblance of sense From hazards happening. ~*~ Take the notepad. But what to write about? Observe/vations By whom, muse, or me? Does it matter? Scribbling seems automatic If you can still read it It’s not a scribble. Write on. ~*~ Next word please. Snippets Snap out of it. Overused. Overused? Ha! Under needed. You would be overused? Only if I can choose how ~*~ I would write chokas They need ninety-nine poets And only one me. ~*~ There sit the journals One for each grandchild. What are you waiting for? Write in them. I would, but What? I am afraid of my mistakes. Get over it! ~*~ I feel – disconnected. You wrote before you typed Yes, but – I recognize my fallacies In my handwriting. ~*~ What is your best characteristic? Love. What is your worst flaw? Sigh. Love. ~*~ You recently wrote of procrastination. Yes What happened afterwards? I put it behind me, and started afresh Are you ready to fail now? Yes What if it is a success, this venture? If it is a success, it will be so only in some minds Not all minds? No. Then why proceed? Because it’s a positive failure if I don’t. They why proceed? Because I must. ~*~ Are you connected now? Only when I hit “submit”. (you ARE allowing this kind of stuff, yes???) |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Not only is it allowed, but I LOVE it-- now do me a favor and keep the journal warm for me? I'm being paged. grumble. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
The office was done in a style that I liked--beige carpet, in semi-plush waves that mimicked sand. The walls were this yellow-beige, fade-to-blue, sea rushing waves (suggested) toward his office door. The art posted coral--shades of orange and pink, and then there was the slate of the desks, in ringed slabs of cobalt. I walked to a table, off to the left of the seating arrangement, and perused the pamphlet offerings. I smiled as I read the menu. There was a twelve-step program for everything it seemed. "Looking for anything in particular?" I was startled out of my reverie, and noticed a shaggily handsome guy--his blue eyes spoke merriment and I liked him right away for that. "Yeah," I answered. "I'm looking for a 12-step group for people addicted to self-help groups." He closed his eyes only slightly and suggested, "Why don't you take one of each, and come on into my office?" UNBELIEVABLE. I'd just met my "shrink". * * * He didn't look like a doctor. This man looked like he could, well? roll... He had crystals set about his office and I looked at him like, "WHAT?" as me and my husband sat down. We were there for to discuss domestic violence. It was just a "happy coincidence" (?) that Dr. Denton was also the head of addictive disorders at LSU Med center. We had spent forty-five minutes in the waiting room answering questions on a clipboard--we spent the next hour clarifying them. I don't know if it was the sundown light that played lavender into that man's eyes, his gentle tones, or just the relief of somebody, finally listening, but I fell into a well of gratitude that was him and I wanted to hug his knees--thank you--before we left. Y'see? The very first thing Dr. Denton taught me was this: NOBODY is allowed to physically hurt me. * * * My first epiphany. * * * I grew boundaries. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I just read what I wrote, and I am sitting here feeling helpless, because I really doubt my little message hit home as epiphany: "Nobody is allowed to physically hurt you." I honestly didn't know that. boom-boom-heart-beat-boom I feel like I was a raised on another planet--I hear the commons of the the standards and I am still in disbelief. boom-boom-heart-pissed-boom My world is volatile, and always has been. I heard the doc questioning, I heard my own wooden answers. I tried not to look at my husband as he voiced his own reasonings. But there was a point, in this conversation, where I felt I like ceased to exist. There I was staring at my toes, and I heard Dr. Denton cornering my husband, and my palms itched for want of claws, and I grew fangs, spatting restraint. Leave him alone That's when I saw that bastard smile, and Dr. Denton took a pamphlet from his desk and tossed it to me: "Co-dependency: the cause, the effect--The genetics of the alcoholic child" My love for him turned to hate. Just like that. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I'm listening. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
me too... |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
I wish I could write of past events in my life, but all that seems to come to my mind is today and what tomorrow will bring. Between job hunting, and visiting my sister as much as I can and trying to straighten out my personal life...it seems endless and tiring. Just last week my sister(Marcia) and I were discussing plans for our Mother's 80th birthday and one day later we are discussing my sister's last 3 months of living. We went out clothes shopping for her husband, because as she put it she didn't want him having holey underwear after she was gone. I wish I had her strength and attitude...My mother (who lives in another state) doesn't wish to talk about it and is very moody, which got worse when her sister (our aunt) had a heart attack this week. If bad news comes in threes, I am afraid to hear what comes next.It is rainy and cold today and tonight/tomorrow snow may show it's white... I know Spring is around the corner..but I sure wish it would turn it already. I enjoy reading all the stories, Karen, Chris, Nancy, Vicky, Sharon and Karilea. We have alot more in common than most would think. hugs all M "Love is not blind - It sees more and not less, but because it sees more, it is willing to see less." |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
We certainly do Maureen, and we should join hands to make the circle complete. I am holding yours now. Serenity - oh serene one....codependency is just as crippling of a disease as any other. Been there....tasted that coppery, self-loathing candy drop. Will write about it another day. Sighing with memories here. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Maureen, thank you for understanding. Please know I've been thinking of you, wishing I could help somehow. (write me?) And ladies, as for my shrink stories, well, we'll see--those stories that I have to tell are kind of mixed up with the privacy of other people who might not appreciate my um, unveiling of self when it would include them. As I told Jan, there are some stories that aren't wholly mine to tell--those may be told one day by a little old lady serenity--I think of that as "survivor's rights". Until then, it may well be okay for me to run naked across the world wide web like a damned fool, but after sleeping on what would have been my next installment--I think propriety demands a bit more tact for the time being. But, yes, the good doc has been on my mind lately. Right now, as I type, I have a card for another psychologist in my wallet. I've been thinking about going back. About a decade ago, during those sessions with the god doc, Denton, I was diagnosed as mildly manic depressive. I refused medication. He warned me at that time, that this particular illness could become inflamed by self-medicating. (nodding, ya'll already know about that) He also said that the onset of menopause (there's those hormones again) could compound the illness as well. sigh. To be perfectly candid, I probably won't go. I like the mania--when the mania is kind to me. I just read this book, "An Unquiet Mind" written by a psychiatrist with bi-polar disorder. (I'm having a brain fog attack right now and can't recall her name.) She described the better aspect of manic-depression as "white mania". During these times, my creative energy peaks off the charts and I find I can accomplish myriads of multiple tasks without blinking an eye. I can do anything during those times. Even math! But it's true, I can just look at things and comprehend the answer, although I can't explain how I know. Yep, I can do anything during that particular mood swing--except sleep. After a couple of days, that's when the darker aspect of the mania surfaces. Irritability sets in as I become hypersenstive. Sound, light, and even the texture of clothing can be painful. So I go off in search of some comfortable fog.nod. I self-medicate. And right now I'm just so tired of the cycle, and sick of withdrawals from the various "comforters" that I have used, that I thought I might get some help. Well, I am sort of considering it anyway. That first session with Dr. Denton was a two-hour marathon of couples counseling. We moved so quickly to core issues that it shocked me. At one point I began to cry, and he walked across the room to hand me a box of tissue, just as I was pulling one of those "mini-packs" of kleenex out of my purse. He smiled at me, and said knowingly, "You don't like to have to ask for help, do you?" * * * No. I don't. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Gosh, Karen we posted at exactly the same time. I don't like to ask for help either...and that in itself is another "disease." All it has ever gotten me are a couple of stays at the Breakdown Ranch. Hugging you lady! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I posted the following, over four years ago, in Prose. I didn't know you then, Serenity, let alone Martie, Chris, Nancy Lee, Maureen, Maree or Vicki... I don't think Ron will mind if I repost it here?  I thought about just leaving a link...but I opted for the full gambit. ~*~ [There has been a poem on these two subject matters, but I wanted to share some feelings this way, as well. For all of you who have “been there…”, if you haven’t let go yet, and I hope you haven’t, perhaps this will help.] Summer, 1988. Everything at once, Lord. Why? My daughter has been diagnosed manic-depressive, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, leaving her there in the mental center, alone, scared, crying, screaming, hating, cursing, and I just walked out. I had to. She is capable of committing suicide, I knew that when she admitted she had the 97 sleeping tablets, bought over the counter, hidden in her room. Why was it that day you allowed a glimmer to come to me, when I questioned her, that she capitulated and for once, told the truth? Thank you, I guess. Yes, thanks. She needs to be where she can get help…her step-father and I have tried for so long, Tough Love, rules, regs, you name it, the discipline was there….where was she? Where did my first daughter go? Summer, 1988. Everything at once, Lord. Why? My dad is failing faster now. I’ve got to travel the 289 miles from my door to my parents’ door to be there, to help Mom, to help Dad. Help Mom cope. Help Dad ease his way out of this life. Damn that emphysema! Damn that Cancer! Damn those horrible stinkin’ cigarettes. Thank you for never letting me even try them! I abhor the smoke! And Mom still sucks on them, standing at the sliding glass door, blowing the smoke outside so it won’t irritate Dad’s lungs. And he tells her quietly, softly, between breaths, “Honey, those aren’t good for you.” She listens, and clings to her habit. I softly curse the reasons of their habit under my breath, for I am not a screamer. And it was their choice. Oh God, why do you give us such choices. Oh yes. Adam. Eve. I leave on Sunday afternoon to get back to begin Monday all over again. I ask my husband, my daughter’s step-father, please, come with me to the center. Help me go through these classes. Help me get through this. I know it’s probably my fault. I know I could have, should have done better. I know you were there, being a good parent. I know you’ve tried. I’ve got to try some more. Do you want to come with me? And we go to the first meeting after the ten days where she had to be kept from us, “for her sake.” The doctors say “she doesn’t have a problem. Maybe it’s you…”. Oh. Me. Me? Did you push her buttons? Can’t you see that she is street-wise, and smart, and perhaps this time she is smarter than you? What did she tell you? That we have rules? That we have done all we could to get her through those so-called “tough, teenage years?” Did she tell you we both work, and she’s been a latch-key kid? So why is it her younger sister doesn’t have these problems? Did she tell you she’s tried drugs? That she’s run away before? That she’s had to have two abortions before the age of 16? NO, I don’t believe in abortions. I don’t believe in children having babies, either. Where were we at the time? Right there, at home, waiting for her to come home from her double-date. Yes, she came home from her date on time, 10 p.m. Doesn’t matter, being boy-crazy doesn’t wait for the magic hour of midnight, you know. No, you haven’t pushed her buttons. You’ve been nice and sweet and non-demanding, right? Why don’t you go in and tell her she has to do something, and watch the fur fly. The fur flew. It flew so badly she had to go into solitude. And I had to leave to go to my parents’ home. Fifteen weeks, Lord. Fifteen weeks of going to work, trying to get into our new home, which deal cannot be cancelled now, going to Tough Love classes during the week to learn that we were not alone as parents. Just what WAS in the water some years ago when all these children were conceived, all these children with problems? Fifteen weekends of leaving work with bags packed to go the 289 miles to help take care of Dad, and comfort Mom and give her some rest because Dad can’t be in the hospital, he needs to be home, where he can see the photographs of his children and grandchildren and leave, hopefully, comfortably, and not alone in a sterile environment, perhaps with none of us there. September 2, 1988. I’m here, Dad. I’m holding your hand. The doctor’s called and Mom is telling him you made it through the night. It’s 7:00 a.m. It’s Sunday. Your hand is cold. Your cheek is not your cheek anymore. “Mom. Dad’s OK now. He’s OK now.” OK means he’s gone to be with God. She cries out. The doctor says something and she puts down the phone. Brother is there to hold her. I’m holding Dad’s hand. Goodbye, Dad. September 4, 1988. The papers are signed releasing my daughter, on medication, back to me. She is happy and chatting and out. She knows her grandfather has died, and her happiness at being released and the sadness of his death are a sickly combination and she doesn’t let the happiness go at her own release. I have a suffocating feeling that this is another act, medication or not. I have the realization within me, creeping up toward my throat, that this will just be a game with her until she is 18, and she will leave. I know this, and I get ready, now, to say goodbye. She’s already left, and what comes now and tomorrow will never be what it could have been. And it never was. 11 August, 1999 ©KRJ [This message has been edited by Sunshine (04-03-2004 08:10 PM).] |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*touching the screen* thank you |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I need to go get some Kleenex...If you go into Prose, and pull that particular post up, you will see that a few folks read it, and supposedly went and called their folks. I always think my Dad keeps working through me, in some way...and, since my daughter ran off six years ago [this month], leaving behind her own daughter...because of her illness, you have all shown me that I am truly not alone...and you know now, that when I say, I understand? It's because I really do. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Chrislane? I didn't mean to ignore you, lovie. and Kari, I'm here if you need an ear. You people are all a remarkable blessing to me. thank you thank you thank you |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Just letting you know, I've been here and listening.... how about and all round. It's on me Maree Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. (by Virginia Woolf) |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
I'm here as well...hugging all of you. ....and there are tears. |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Me too! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
I know this all a bit too well unfortunately. Karen and I have talked about our manic times, and I too would not part with them for anything as they make up for the rest of the time.Not accepting help or asking for any, really boils down to letting go of your control, and until you can do that - one foot will always be nailed to the floor I am afraid. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hey you! I was waiting for you to show up. I didn't intend to paint myself as being tortured--although, nodding, as you well know, it is episodic, according to many things, but I find the most debillitating are the results of hormones. Kari--the teen years were especially perilous for me as well--I made many rash decisions during those manic times. Please know you did what you could and keep that heavy burden of blame off of your shoulders. Recent technology (Magnetic Resonance Imaging or MRI) has revealed there are physical differences in the brains of people with manic depression. This is an anomaly of birth and manic depression cannot be induced by outside influences. Therefore, it is not your fault. Please read that book that I mentioned--I found myself nodding over every page. Also know that, with your permission, I will continue to pray for you and your daughter. Like her, I'm afraid of the medication, because it does take some experimenting to find the right dosage for every individual. Until then, the manic-depressive feels locked into what I call "gray days"--when that pendulum of mood quits swinging, "level" feels bland and like a hell of "nothing". I've met and talked with many manic-depressives over the years, and without exception, they have all expressed the pronounced fear--a sort of emotional claustaphobia. This, I believe, is the main difficulty of treating what is a manageable and fairly common disease. The problem is that our thoughts, our emotions make up our reality. It's a frightening ordeal to "trust" enough to turn that over to other people. And "trust" is a huge issue when one is unsure of the validity of one's own feelings. And lastly, after reading Kari's post, I seriously considered having this thread locked. I feared I had inadvertantly hurt her by triggering her memories and emotions. I still have qualms about that. I don't tell my stories to garner sympathy, and I would hate it if anyone assumed that were the case. I didn't have an altruistic motive of "helping mankind" either, through my sharing of my personal errors and self-inflicted psychic wounds. I actually started out with the intent of just sharing the funnier stories. But? Half the truth is still a lie. I've said it before but I'll say it again: My life is just my life. It's just a viewpoint of one. I'm not proud of it, but I also steadfastly refuse to be ashamed of it. And remaining silent felt like shame to me. It just is what it is. But if I think for one second that these stories are hurting anyone--I have no qualms about asking Ron to delete it. Smile, I can always return to writing it out in the puzzle pieces of my sometimes perplexing poetry. In that book, "An Unquiet Mind", the author describes a point of trust in every new friendship, when she must decide if the relationship has reached the level of intimacy that requires "the confession" of her illness. She details several reactions of people too. The one I liked best was that of her current husband-- he simply looked at her and said: "That explains a lot." * * * While a few of my more observant friends here at Pip had already noticed my manic depressive cycles, I just thought I'd let the rest of you in on it. Peace?(Yep, "serenity" always was more than a pen name--it was and remains a goal.) |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: Don’t you even think of asking such a request. In the last 15 years, I have come to know more about this disorder, and understand it was not my fault that it occurred in my child. The hopelessness of knowing that this disorders causes such a thrill when one is walking the edge, when it can present such dangers, is a fearful thing to a mother or father, when they see it happening to their child. My “child” is now of an age where she finally realizes that her vices of drugs and alcohol do not help her disorder. And I very well remember her telling me that the medication she was on for a brief time made her feel “dead”. Again, the hopeless, helplessness I experienced that I could not alleviate her condition or situation made me very miserable. But there comes a time when the person with the problem needs to be accountable for themselves. They either acknowledge what they can do for themselves, or they give in to it. And I know there are various levels of this condition. When I understand or have been informed that someone has been diagnosed with this problem, I know that I have to change my ways of understanding their “days”. And believe it or not, I have several such friends who have been diagnosed with this condition. And my pride in them for doing what they need to do for themselves is on-going, and unconditional. And Serenity? You fit your name very well. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Hello ya'll. I've missed you all. And um, this last page is hitting mighty close to home. All I want to say right now is that I have been in the hospital a few times years ago with my nerves, under psychiatric care. I'm not now though...but probably not because I couldn't use the care. My daughter has a psychiatrist and a psychologist. She said that she has to have the psychiatrist for her medication. There are many causes for mine and my daughters problems, but I just can't go into them now. Well, I feel the tears coming, so I've got to go read a few poems. I've missed ya'll so much. I love you all With love and heart hugs, Ethel Mae |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Ethel Mae? My first thought is, yet again, there's so many of us... I'm awestruck too, thinking of the balance of strength and fragility of the human being. Amazing. I think we're just amazing. All of us. I've been sitting here, ever since I posted my little "confession", waiting for something horrible to happen. I thought, "well, there. Now they know..." I'm not sure what I expected. Maybe I thought there would be some snot-nosed kids laughing and pointing-- "Cooties!" And hell, maybe there are...but? grins...as I typed once before, "they can go ahead and laugh if they wanna, I can't hear them!" So...shrugs. Love and hugs to all... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
You are ALL simply amazing women. All of you. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Karen, let 'em laugh if they want to. We don't care, do we? But, I don't think there are many laughing at us on here. Just reaching out their arms for us all. Isn't it great to be understood?....and loved anyway??...even if we may not understand totally, we qccept. that's what friends and family are for, though....well, most family and friends. Right? I love ya'll..... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
I think compassion for others comes from dealing with life's afflictions and tests. Every single thing that we experience good or bad, teaches us a valuable lesson. That is why it is called Earth School. Karen, your journal is allowing us to verse what we might not have been able to do otherwise. We are in no means forced to do so, and that is why memories, laughter and yes, some tears are being brought to the surface. We have free will to expose them, or keep them to ourselves. For this we are grateful. Soul cleansing it is! Nighty night and hugs all round. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Karen? I am still listening.... "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Karen, where are you? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hey Ethel: I just took a little break. But I'm here. I've just been working on a different project lately, (that, and my "office/bedroom/cage") but I may be back later...I have other, happier stories to tell yet. coffee....wouldja believe I JUST woke up? |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
This is such a liberating interactive journal. Everyone opening up and sharing their personal stories ~ and the wonderfully supportive responses they have received. I do believe that the more a person has experienced in life, the more compassion and understanding they can give to others. There are, unfortunately those, who want everyone else to suffer as much as they have. That last scenario is definitely not the case with all of you wonderful Pipsters. Sending love and understanding to all of you! Linda |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: So true, Linda. Many years ago, decades ago, my mother was relating a story to one of her friends, of a job she had taken on when the need to supplement the family income had taken hold. [But my grandmother worked too - at the time I didn't understand why, other than she put a good face on it, and I thought that's what women did! I was SO naive!] Anyway, she took a position as an answering service operator. [It eventually led to their own business - but that's another story! ]She worked a day shift [longing for the midnight shift...] and had to deal with the folk that gossiped and gabbed during the quiet moments. One day, as she related it, the operators were all cawing and crowing over their newest associate who would soon be coming for the afternoon shift. One had heard from the other who passed it on [you know the grapevine venue] on her style dress, her inexperience, and were generally tearing her to pieces in their vulture-like manner. Apparently, Mom had had it up to HERE, and said, in a very polite manner... "I've got to take a restroom break. Why don't you all chew on me while I'm gone for five minutes, and leave off the new girl?" With a smile [and probably a slight flounce] she left the operators behind, speechless. I'm sure their eyes were this big!Mom usually only shared the "funny times" of her job. Even though, later, when I worked for an answering service for a while, I learned that she could have shared many, many stories. And many of them would have been far from pleasant. But here's the point, if you haven't seen it. She realized early in life there was only "so much" any average person could do in life to make it better for others. That day, she took the crows and vultures off the young girl who wasn't even there to defend herself. Brava, Mom! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Okay, okay. Serenity enters, grumbling. It has been pointed out to me (again) that I have been selectively selective in the telling of my collage of stories. Someone persistant and (yep, sometimes annoying) asserted that I am predictable (grrr) in that I am most comfortable relating my failings. I had to take a few days to think about that. It's true. I was raised in a manner that didn't allow a great deal of crowing. I was raised by two stoics, and accomplishment was just a nod in my home--because doing your best is what-you're-supposed-to-do. Don't expect accolades for utilizing gifts. Be grateful. There was approval, but it was wrapped in a quiet dignity that demanded a certain humility. "Understand how lucky you are..." Express gratitude and don't linger on stage. (What, and give up show biz?) But that's how I was raised. So it vexed me a bit when I was challenged to add to this journal,a story of a moment in life when I felt proud of me. (There was a clause too--it couldn't be related to my children. Sigh. There went my "easy answer.") So I had to think awhile, and to my surprise, I came up with three stories I can tell. Smile. Three moments in my life--when I felt like I "liked" me--right then--during those moments, on those days. And yes, I entered grumbling. I exit grumbling too-- not even sure if I can do this... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Uhhhhh, Karen, I was hurriedly scrolling down so that I could read your "Happy Stories". LOL But, I'll wait until you're ready to tell them. Oh, and I just thought while I was reading that I didn't tell you to congratulate your son for me for winning the scholarship. Give him a hug for me. Okay? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Ethel? Hugs are gladly given, but? tsk... the boy prefers food. Sheesh. It's like watching Wild Kingdom sometimes. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*poof* Damn. I couldn't do it. Actually though, on a technicality? I did write the moment and post it. I just couldn't leave it there.... But I suppose I just lost a bet. grin. So sue me. I'm never gonna feel right about patting myself on the back. Everytime I try I get a pinched nerve. [This message has been edited by serenity blaze (04-09-2004 04:48 AM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Well, poop. You know Ihave to get a little sleep because they won't let me utilize my desk at work for that purpose, don't'cha? So I missed the moment.  Ah...but you left it up for almost an HOUR! I'm so danged PROUD of you!!!! [Ah, were YOU my imaginary sister that always liked to hide when the folks came in to the room? I SWEAR that in so many ways, I was raised so much like you... ] |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ya know, I often wondered why my folks would sort of "push" me to try new things....even volunteer me for things that I had no idea of till the last moment. Then it was too late to quit. Hmmm...and afterwards, if I did well at this something, I wasn't to talk too much about it....don't be a bragart. It was almost like, they could be proud of me....but I wasn't to be proud of myself. Don't get me wrong, I loved my folks and miss them terribly, but seems I didn't have a voice till they were both gone. And then my own voice frightened me. Complicated this growing up can be in middle-age. Hugs! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"Complicated this growing up can be in middle-age." grin. Not as complicated as trying to do it in your teens. Or your twenties. Or your thirties. LMAO... OH BOY! *smackin' my head* And then finally? When you finally get it right? giggle...well as my Dad said, old age wasn't bad on the days he felt well. He could act like a kid again and nobody cared. They just figgered he was senile. |
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Ron
Administrator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-05-19
Posts 8669Michigan, US |
Personal responsibility is important. Even, I think, paramount. Accomplishments as mere gifts is an abrogation of responsibility because, after all, we can't be responsible for what someone chooses to give us. The trouble with that is that responsibility isn't an action you can choose to exercise here but not there. Responsibility is a state of being. You are female or you aren't female, you are healthy or you aren't healthy, you are responsible or you aren't responsible. States of being. We don't get to pick and choose. Accomplishment and failure, after all, are just different sides of the same exact coin. We have to accept responsibility for the coin, not just one side of it. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
So that means... Serenity should post her achievements... It's good to know you're reading us, Ron. Thanks for speaking up! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
But, if you are told to keep quiet, and you live just to please and be a caretaker....it takes alot of hard work to become "responsible" for one's self. Don't ya think Ron? I mean if childhood through teens and beyond is almost a type of brain washing, how can one easily accept the idea that everything we say, do, or think is totally up to us and us alone? If you are raised with a sense of inner-peace and a feeling of being "just a kid" with no undo outside pressures, the concept of the two-sided coin is simply.....life. Normal life that is. Am I making sense? I just know that it wasn't till maybe two years ago, that I finally found my voice. That was after it had almost been silenced. I am so glad you joined in Ron. Write some more! |
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Ron
Administrator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-05-19
Posts 8669Michigan, US |
I don't want to hijack the thread, but yes, the way you are raised is obviously a part of who you are today. The real question is whether it is responsible for the way you are today. Whether you follow the past or deviate from the past is still a choice. Most make that choice unconsciously, without thought or consideration, but it remains nonetheless a choice. What often makes it tough is that's it's really a whole lot of little choices, made every day, every hour, even every breath. I think allowing your upbringing to dictate your life is like walking downhill. It's easy. When you choose to deviate from your past you can plan on spending the rest of your life walking up the hill. Initially, the incline is incredibly steep and hard. After a few years or decades it becomes less so. I don't think it ever becomes level again. The way we were raised is THAT important. But the direction we choose is still a choice. The amazing thing, I think, is that we can often cover much more distance walking up the hill than we ever could have walking down it. |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
Ron, I'd say the way we were raised is responsible for the basis of many choices we make. We may always choose to deviate from the basis of our early belief systems or how we were raised, but must not forget that it often takes new skill sets to be able to even view those choices available to us. Your analogy of walking downhill is apt. If we make the assumption that to deviate from the patterns of behavior we are taught early in life, we must learn new skill sets for decision making, then that uphill walk you describe comes only through also expanding our knowledge base. So... we must not only educate ourselves on how to see past our earliest learned behaviors and or circumstances, but we must also then know how to put the knowledge into practice. my point??? More opinion than point I suppose, but it would seem little in our society truly productively teaches people how to step outside of their own beginnings and it is little wonder to me that we see common thread of our past lives being thought of as 'responsible" for out present actions. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Until a person can step outside of their life and take an objective look at all that has created them thus far, as Cpat points out, not much can be done to change that slide downhill... Yes, Ron C, it takes a great deal of effort to go uphill. The scenery is great from the mountaintop...or so I hear. I am still climbing... I am certainly glad the men are reading...thank you. Insight from all parties is extremely welcome by me, and I am sure I can speak for the others, but something tells me I won't have to, they'll be in soon enough, themselves. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
I think as long as we have the ability to pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off...we can stand upright and face the world in the way "we want" to. Sure, for some of us it means stumbling along the way, but we can retrain the sub-conscious to know the difference between "acting" and "actuality." Right? So....actually...lol....Karen...you should delight us with another post. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
It's good to see some of the guys joining in. We welcome you. How are we supposed to handle being pushed all our lives....of being made to think that we aren't living up to our own capabilities? No matter what we might accomplish, it's never quite good enough for some of the people around us? My Dad has done me that way since I can remember. Not only my Dad, but other people as well. When someone treats you this way, it makes all the times you stumble and fall seem that much worse. Sometimes it makes you wonder what is the use to even get up and try again? It seems that after years of living and trying to please other people, without ever quite doing so, that a person could just say to heck with it and try to please themselves. Don't you think? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I'm still unsure of how appropriate this might be--but yes, I figured it would be lacking without.... shaking my head. sigh. Here is my "deleted" post--as it were: * * * Okay. sigh. I'm just going to type these to keys if you please, and forgive me folks? (Sure you will..) *wince* woncha? But anyhoo... Let's get this over with. The first story that came to mind was a time I spent in the Emergency Waiting Room, of what is now University Hospital in New Orleans. My sister was undergoing surgery there, (she had a touch of cancer--and yep, that's how she describes it to this day--see? a bunch of stoics) and they were removing a tumor along with much of her womb that day as they performed a radical hysterectomy. We were in a glass cubicle type sitting area. (Yes. Nodding. We all know the kind.) It was smaller than the usual hospital hospitality areas, and the seats were hard formed plastic, and trust me, after a few hours, I was more than squirming. This was going to be a long wait and we came prepared. We'd packed my mother quite a lunch--she is diabetic and was also recently recovering from a heart attack. So we came armed with "plenties" to keep her happy, knowing the snack machine would be useless for her. We had brought things to read, and we came, stocked and ready to settle down for a few hours during my sister's surgery. I couldn't read. My mother, though, she can focus, dammit. And she sat there, and became engrossed in her novel--the clothespin that she uses as a bookmark moved closer to the last page with the passing of minutes into hours. My father pretended to read, but I suspected he was watching me, just as I was watching him--watching the people sitting there draped within their private dramas. We hadn't discussed it beforehand, but we alternated "smoke" breaks. He would go "take a walk"--and when he returned, I would then go off. We would smile in complicity, as if nobody noticed the cloud of nicotine that engulfed us. (Have you ever noticed how much cigarettes actually stink in a sterile environment?) It was during one of his "bathroom breaks" that I began watching one particular couple. She was a large woman, and the folds of her spilled over the formed chair, as she sat there, with her hands folded across her swollen belly. Her eyes were slits, half open aware, and I was sitting near enough to her to smell her gas eruptions, which were frequent, but gratefully silent. I peered over one of my mother's "Star" magazines and observed. She had worn a "houseduster" dress there, and slip on shoes, and her stockings were pale beige, showing her unshaved legs in curls. The hair coiled under pressure. Next to her was a thin man, and the bags beneath his eyes lifted up when we caught eyes--he smiled at me and I smiled back, but my mother frowned at me, so I returned my eyes to my magazine. There was a talk show droning on the television that was positioned in the corner of the room and the woman began complaining to the thin man, who was apparently her husband. She didn't have a pleasant voice, and her demeanor was abrasive as well. Everything that came from her mouth, was an ooze of dark tar, and his response was always a steady, comforting, "Yes sweetie." or "I'm sorry love." My mother beamed and almost winked at me at me over her book. (She loved him/hated her.) I nodded slight and continued my pretense of reading too. But then the woman became more and more barbed in her remarks to the man, and I could see my mom giving up the focus of her own reading agenda--this woman was pissing her off. (This woman was unpleasant.) So my mom ate her glad-bagged healthy snacks, and I think my father got alarmed at her agitation, because his inquiries at the desk regarding my sister became more frequent. My mom then slid the brown bag of fruit over to me, saying "eat"--there was still a tuna salad and one of her prized apples, and a pear too! in the bag. I was hungry, but I couldn't eat. Y'see? I could hear the woman's stomach growling long before she complained of hunger. The thin man went off in search of food and came back, offering chips and soda. Not good enough. That woman tore into him, calling him names I can't repeat here, and his only answer was a question: "Did you take your medication sweetheart?" And she closed her eyes and replied, "I can't take it without food." I wanted so much to hand her that bag, but my mother did not like that woman and I promise you, I didn't dare cross my mom. I sat there quiet--staring at the floor then. Then? Grace! We got news of my sister! The surgery was a success, and she was now in "recovery". We could see her...in a couple of hours. Oh. My mom was ready to go. "We'll be back." my father assured me. Right now? We had to get my mom home. She wasn't looking so good. * * * We left the cubicle then, as we bid relieved goodbyes to others there, still waiting. As soon as we were out of earshot--my mother began railing on the woman. She really was a bitch. I nodded. "But mom?" I said, "You have no idea if that woman was in pain sitting there or what--she could have been on medication..." "There's no excuse for treating someone the way she did her husband..." My mother was adamant. "Well," I was being brave, "I remember when you were hungry in the hospital, and you weren't so sweet then either." "And?" My father interjected. "She was too on medication." My mom grumbled. "Mom? Can I go back and give her your lunch?" What??? "I paid a dollar for that apple and she doesn't deserve it." oh. "But didn't you give it to me?" My dad was smiling now. "If you gave it to me, then it's my lunch now. Can't I give her my lunch?" Now he was covering a laugh. It wasn't two steps later she said, "Oh for chrissakes, go ahead, but I wouldn't do it." I ran back to the waiting room while my parents continued walking to the car. I walked in the waiting room and I told her, "Ma'am? I couldn't help but overhear that you are hungry, would you like this? There is fruit, and the salad is untouched." And there was a moment when I saw the edge leave her eyes, and her chubby hand touched mine gratefully. "Thank you, dawlin'." Her husband looked at me relieved. "I'm not myself today..." I nodded. Then I had to double-time it to catch up with my parents because my mom didn't wait for me as I did this. (She would still grumble about that woman today, methinks.) * * * She looked at my empty hands, appalled. "You gave her the whole thing?" um, yeah? *wince* "You gave her my good "tupperware" too!" My mother shook her head. But my dad reached behind my mom's back to pinch my shoulder. I looked up and he winked at me. * * * He was proud of me. And why? Because I did what-I'm-supposed-to-do? No... because that particular day, I did what didn't have to be done. Anyway. * * * Now that ain't something that deserves applause--it was a little thing to do--but when I was asked to think of a time when I was proud of myself, that was the first thing that came to mind. It wasn't grades. It wasn't awards. It wasn't winning the lottery. A simple act of humanity that oughtta be a given, but when I think about it now, I'm so glad I ran back. Had I not? I'd have a very different memory. I'd think even less of me than I do now. *shaking my head* "such a simple thing..." But there ya go... |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
that "small" deed would have sent ripples, an ever widening effect in your life and the life of others....that is what compassion consists of..thank you for for telling the story..and thank you for allowing us to read it. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
You motioned a ripple, Serenity. It is quiet, innocuous moments such as that, when a tree's limb is bent yet another way, and becomes a beauty... and it is moments like that a young person should have around to read, in order to learn.... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen, what a sweet story that is. I am so glad that you took the lady the last of your Mom's lunch. It is simple, random acts of kindness such as this, that makes your own inner child giggle and dance a little jig. Hugging you!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I'm laughing here, but I'm also wondering why I was so "spazzed" about posting that. I am very transparent too, and easily manipulated. Sheesh. I can (and prolly will) do damned near anything if some one dares me. (There's more stories in that, too. )But I guess my friend's point was to get me to admit that I actually liked something about myself. It was harder than I thought it would be and it gave me alot to think about too. It made me realize how negative I am toward myself, and yes, how very damaging that has been. So I chose that story because the thing that I do like about myself is my compassion. I will give anybody a break--anybody--but me. Tsk. *shaking my head* So thanks to "Deep Poet" for the challenge and food for thought. And thank you all for putting up with my insanity. (<--see? There it is again...) Stories, anyone? My head hurts now. Oh. And special thanks to the "Rons"--ya'll helped me to sort a few things out, and the both of you have my total respect. And affection of course. *smooch* [This message has been edited by serenity blaze (04-10-2004 05:32 PM).] |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
It's Easter... and I'm feeling the need to share something... but I don't know why... or what... I don't have a story in mind... I don't really have much of anything specific in mind at the moment... or perhaps, to the contrary... I have too much on my mind... It's been a reflective night... a 'thoughtful' one, if you will... and sometimes, I do tend to think too much... and I become my own worst enemy... So, I guess I just needed to come to a 'safe' place... and this thread is one of the safest places I know... Friends live here... And I don't seem to have the words for anything else... so please forgive me for my vagueness... Happy Easter... I love you guys... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Vicky, sometimes all we need is to know we're reaching out and touching someone. Reflection is good...action, better. You will know when it comes time, what you have to do, m'friend. And you are right. As many threads as I have visited in my brief time at Passions, this has become my most favorite.... For several POETic reasons... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Vicky you don't have to really say anything.. Sometimes I come here just to sit and read, remember, and just think. Happy Easter everyone! |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Karilea and Nancy Lee?... Thank you... And, Karen?... thank you for re-posting that last story. I had missed it the first time... and I couldn't help but smile at you while I was reading it... for multiple reasons... smile Love you, lady... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Easter morning It seems I haven’t shared this one yet. I thought I had. It was in Los Angeles, Easter, 1956. The promise of the day held much, especially one happy four year old that was looking forward to her new Easter dress, her shiny patent leather shoes, her new hat, small gloves, a little white purse in which she would put a little handkerchief that would hold her quarter to give to the man with the silver plate when she went to church later that day. Can you see her dancing? It is a beautiful morning, the sun is shining, and her daddy had just prepared the thin pancakes she loved so much. Her brother was being tended by her mother, so she had her father all to herself. The Los Angeles Sunday morning was a bit chilly, as happens now and then in that valley, but the little pink stucco house was cozy and warm with the smell of maple syrup in the air. At her father’s urging, he swung her up from the table and told her to “run quick, wash your face and hands, and put on your pretty Easter dress.” In her excitement, she was skipping backwards from the kitchen and into the living room, saying, “Watch me daddy!” and she skipped backwards into the hallway, and directly onto the floor register, which was hot from the morning’s furnace air. Always careful to skirt around the hot iron, as she was going backwards she had not even thought [not at four years of age] of the danger behind her. “Honey, stop!” But the words did not come quick enough, and her little feet landed smack dab on top of the hot iron grill. The scream that followed brought her mother out of the bedroom, as her father scooped her up. “Get a cold cloth, hurry!” “Daddy, it hurts!” “Honey, I know. Shhh….” The ministrations began, and the pain intensified, both on the soles of her feet, as well as the painful thought that her own carelessness would mean she could not go to church this morning, and hear, once again, about Jesus. For a moment, that inner pain seemed greater than her outward pain. Her mother left to tend again once more to her brother, for her father had her safe in his arms, there on the couch, as he tended to her feet, and tried to soothe her cries. Her little voice whispered, with tears, “I won’t get to hear about Jesus saving us today.” “You’re right, honey, you won’t be going to church today. You will stay home with me.” “Have mama take my quarter, please.” A small clock on the wall filled in the quiet with its tock, tic, tock, tic. She waited for the cuckoo to come and laugh at her, and call her cuckoo for being careless. A light salve was carefully applied to the bottom of her feet by her father’s large, gentle hands. Then, he went and took an aspirin, cut it in half, and gave her a small glass of orange juice to help swallow down the dry pill. She no longer sobbed, but the tears continued to fall. “May I tell you the story of Jesus?” “Yes, please.” So in the presence of a Sunday morning sun, one tall, quiet man, and even through the pain that had resulted from an outpouring of joy, a little girl was lifted once more by the story of ever-lasting love. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
As I wait for my daughter, her husband and my two precious and comical grandsons aged 4 and 2 to arrive for Easter dinner, I am so glad that I took a few minutes to myself to come to this forum and read. A sweet memory you have gifted us with Karilea. Mommy and Daddy could always make things better. *sigh* Well, I am off to check on the turkey and ham. Plus...maybe one more item could popped into the boys Easter bag. The Easter Bunny is smilin' extra wide this year.Hugs all !! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Easter Hugs From Our Little Corner of the World To Yours...  Christopher, Michael, Sunshine, Miss Emily |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Sweeeeeeeet!!! And look at that adorable little Bunny Girl. Awww. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Karen, you said.......I chose that story because the thing that I do like about myself is my compassion. I will give anybody a break--anybody--but me. My sweet friend, I found that out about you not long after I came here to Passions. A person doesn't have to be around you very long to know that you are a very compassionate person. Like so many other PIPsters. And, I thought of something when I was reading your story about Easter, Karilea. The Easter clothes made me think of a story about me and my cousin. When I was growing up my parents always made a big deal out of holidays for me and my brother. They both were very poor when they were growing up and didn't have a lot of material things in life. They both had lots of siblings. In fact, my Dad didn't want any kids when they married, until he got drafted to go overseas in World War II. He wanted my Mom to have a child in case he didn't come back. So, I was born. Then he didn't want anymore. My Mother says that they had to have another child, though, because Daddy was getting me so spoiled??? So, almost 6 years later, my brother was born. Anyway, back to my story. When I was growing up, my Mom and Dad always tried to give my brother and me more material things than they had gotten (they always had plenty of food and love, though...so actually they were rich. We were far from rich (except with love), but my Dad worked really hard to provide a good living for us. Then when I was 17 years old, I got married the first time. That was the first time that I went completely against my Dad's wishes, and many more hardships came afterwards because of my pride. Okay, that's not the story I wanted to tell...... Years ago, my Mother had a brother who met a young woman when he was on one of his long hauls as a truck driver. One thing led to another and she got with child. So, he left my Aunt and married the younger woman. His youngest daughter was only a couple of months younger than me. We were probably about 11 or 12 when this happened. (Her older sister and two brothers were already grown.) We were very close and she came to our house to stay with me a lot on weekends. We lived in Florida then and they still lived in Alabama. If we had lived in the same town, she probably would have stayed a lot more. Anyway, on Easter when we were about 13, Mama took me and my brother to buy our Easter outfits. I found the cutest dress that I wanted. It was a coral color and very grown-up looking. Then Mama asked me didn't I want to get one cheaper so that we could get my cousin one, too. She didn't have enough money to buy me the one I had picked out and buy my cousin one too. I wanted that dress so bad, but I felt so guilty. I felt selfish. So, I picked out another dress for myself that was just as pretty and grown-up looking. It was even the same coral color. My cousin and I were the same size, and there were two just alike, so Mama bought both of us one that day. My cousin and I were so glad that we had dresses the same. We felt like twins. We had so much fun that Easter. If I had listened to my first instinct, we would have missed out on all that fun, and my cousin probably wouldn't have had an Easter dress that year. I'm glad that I wasn't selfish that time...... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ethel...isn't it amazing how a little compromise can bring about so much enriching fulfillment of soul? I love this story [and all of the asides, which could be tales of their own, hint hint...] so when you're ready? Tell another? |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ethel, that was a really sweet story of caring and sharing. It brought forth a memory of my own mother and something she taught me.....ummm....I believe it was my 16th birthday. One that is certainly special to teenage girls, and boys I suppose. I had a very close girlfriend with hair of flaming red and a personality to match...lol. We were best buddies from grade 6 on. Her birthday just happened to be a week before mine. We were crazy and constantly on the phone or together. She loved my mother and Mom loved her in return. You see, her own mother was the type that didn't show affection, especially not to my girlfriend. Although as I remember it, she did show her motherly love to my friend's older brother and younger sister. Anyway, on my 16th birthday after dinner and a sweet occasion cake, I was getting ready to go rollerskating with my girlfriend(we had matching rabbits feet hanging off of our skates..lol)and overheard a conversation between my Mom and my girlfriend. "J" I will call her was telling Mom that she didn't have a party, nor a special dinner, no cake, not even a card from her mother on her 16th the week before. As she talked more she started to sob and my mother took her into her arms and embraced her. I peaked out of the bathroom door only a few feet away. I was touched with a twinge of jealousy.....that quickly left when I heard "J" say "I wish you were my mother." My Mom smiled through tears and replied, "oh, thankyou sweetheart, but your mother loves you, she just doesn't know how to show it....probably was never shown love herself." With that my mother handed "J" a prettily wrapped, small box. "J" wiped away her tears and grinned. "For me?" she asked in amazement. "I wouldn't forget you dear." replied my mother who suddenly glanced back and winked at me still peaking through the door. She had known I was there all along, and her wink told me not to say anything about the gift she was giving to "J." You see, inside of the box was a necklace that I had been admiring for a long time. Mom had been saving it to give to me to wear rollerskating. I did not feel jealous. I just felt pride in the gesture my gracious mother had shown to my best friend. Mom and I never spoke of this incident. It was one of those moments frozen in time, like a painting. Something to look back at and never, ever get tired of it's beautiful brush strokes. I miss my Mom. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Kleenex alerts, Chris... Kleenex alerts, please... |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Oh god... you ladies are all beautiful... Chris..I'm in tears. Maree. Beauty of the world which is soon to perish has two edges, one of laughter and one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Awww, Chris. That is so beautiful. Sounds like your Mom was a lot like mine. Mama is always thinking of other people. She is a good friend to me. She tries to teach me a lot. LOL |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Thinking it's about time for a Nancy story... bear with me folks okay? |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
The facade of the stately manor belied who resided there ..or what took place inside the hugs oak doors. The beautiful well manicured lawns of the tree lined street led one to believe it was just one more of the magnificent homes in the upper class neighbourhood. Once inside the great oak doors, the parents of the girls were not allowed past the reception area. Here..in the reception area, they handed over their daughters, the nuns in charge, with a quick hug and kiss and a promise to write and/or visit.. soon. Back home they tried to hold their heads high and said things like their daughter had gone to visit an 'aunt' or something similar. Past the reception area is where the girls would live, work, and most of all pray for forgiveness of this horrible sin they had committed. Father forgive me... Days were spent, cleaning and polishing, scrubbing the tiled floors on hands and knees..no matter how large and uncomfortable you felt. All meals were prepared by the 'girls'..dishes and pots scrubbed to perfection, or redone until they were. AND prayer time...several times a day. Father forgive me!! Please forgive me. Over and over. Some of the 'room-mates'...usually three to five to a room, and I believe there were about fifteen to twenty residing there at this time, would sneak out onto the fire escape at night for a quick smoke or those who were still in touch with the guy in their life would steal away for a kiss and a few moments alone. The basement of the manor had been converted into a doctor's office/delivery room. Cries of young women in labor could be heard at all hours. Father forgive me!! If you held a pillow over your head you found it helped to stifle their painful screams. You knew one day it would be your turn...to give birth to this child you carried. Father please forgive me!! One of these girls was me. The place: A home for unwed mothers. The year: April 1961. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
How I missed you so. It was so lonely and quiet at home. I was told at the age of ten never to speak of this. You were away...visiting...someone...who would I say? I remember the day you finally came home and I ran to the bedroom to see you. You, looking pale and older than when you left. I realize now that the questions I asked must have almost killed you to answer. I'm so sorry. I was just a kid. But, you were home! That was the most important thing. Not where you had been or what had happened.....you were home and that's all that mattered to me. And after all of these years, we both know now, that there was never anything to forgive. Love You. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
My beautiful, beautiful friends... smiling through tears here. I took too much benadryl yesterday, (and washed it down with too many toddies )so I spent the day sleeping it off, (after spending the night in the Grok forum trying to "pee like a man"--sheesh) and finally, my sinuses are dry, and what do I do? I come here and I'm crying and sniffling all over again! You are all so special. I'm blessed to know all of you... Beauties. Every one of you. *sniff* smile I'll be back...and thank you |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Chris? Thank you...I love you too. Ser? Love ya lady! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
You did it. You gave birth, to both your child, and once again... to truth. You did it. and I am SO proud of you! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Nancy Lee, I love you, sweet lady. I love all of you. This is such a cleansing place. SereneOne, thank you for starting this interactive journal. I'm so sorry that I didn't find it sooner than I did. If I had, I might feel more able to write some things that I need to write.....or maybe not?? I have some aches in my heart that I need so to write about. Some things that have happened in my life......some that I was responsible for, and some that I wasn't. Some heartaches that I was made to have, and some that I made others have. So much in my life from years ago that I need to get out......... So that I can be free from those things that still haunt my mind........ The psychiatrist from years ago told me that all that was wrong with me was that I needed to get all my ducks in a row...and that I was my own worse enemy. I was in my twenties then......And I just got wilder. I think that I was rebeling against my unusually strict upbringing. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
For that it's worth, I have read every single entry, and all along certain things triggered extremely strong, emotional memories for me, and I have managed to write a type of journal for myself that has been a very enlightening, and almost cleansing experience since a day after this thread started. Mine was actually a forgiveness journal, to me included. Over time you learn to just find a place for your past inside you somewhere, that is comfortable, as it won't ever go away for you can not bury it as it did exist, and it also had a strong influence on molding your character, but you can't blame it for who you become, as you have one thing going for you - choice! To Ron C - I have to agree with you that your past is never "responsible" for what you become today, and I think you are so right as for what it worth, I truly am a living example. A lot of people allow the past to control them and the hard part is being strong enough to take your power back. It is so easy to blame failure, frustration, someone else, etc. from the past, and it sure makes a good scapegoat. The fact remains you are truly the ruler of your own destiny, and if you don't do it - no one is going to do it for you. I strongly believe our life is all about choices, learning from making bad ones, so next we can make better ones along our journey. It is about taking the harder road when the flat one is so easy. I have in my life, had nothing but uphill, and very hard roads, but they sure proved one thing, I never repeated history or became what any of those people were in my life that terrified me. There was a point when I was about 12 that I knew I never would. I took every single obstacle, and rotten thing they did to me, or that happened to me, and turned it into something positive, probably for my own sanity, who knows, but it worked. I had long started a practice of every time I was abused, hit, yelled at, or degraded, I had made a pact with myself to do a good deed the next day to undo it, so trust me, I became a very good deeder The best part was that through that process I learned it was okay to not love your parents as sometimes bringing a child into the world does not give them a right to be called Mother or Father. I learned it was okay too to feel that loss of love of the ideal parents you never had, and it was even more okay to grieve that loss. Eventually like grieving a death, it fades and find a place of comfort in your soul. I learned to borrow pretend "real parents" and hang out at those houses to see what normal was, and use it to my advantage, in raising myself as a rather normal kid. Chris's story about her Mom and her friend, reminded me of me so much, but you know I think I turned out okay without much love ever given, except for one friend my own age to cling onto to, and boy did we cling onto each other! She stuck with me all through school and university, and knew all my darkest and sickening secrets, and was there for me with unconditional love until the day she eventually died. I learned that all the adversity in the world thrown at you will never knock you down if you have a passion, a dream, a goal, or realize you are not the person anyone tells you that you are - but you! I learned confidence came from within, and every single time I turned to external sources they never met my expectations, but when I turned inside to me it worked. I listen to me a lot now. So basically, LOL, I started talking to myself but no one could hear me so I never got a straight jacket. I am reading, learning, and remembering a lot from this thread, some good memories, more bad, but it is good to revisit those dark ones, to really enjoy the wonderful memories, and appreciate my life today. Yup, Karen this could be great book! See the time up there? Pinched nerve and all had to get my two cents worth in - this is first for me at this hour! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
"I learned that all the adversity in the world thrown at you will never knock you down if you have a passion, a dream, a goal, or realize you are not the person anyone tells you that you are - but you! I learned confidence came from within, and every single time I turned to external sources they never met my expectations, but when I turned inside to me it worked. I listen to me a lot now." Thank you Sharon..this is SO true. You take care of that pinched nerve and thanks for joining us. April 21, 1961 My baby boy was born and immediately put up for adoption. My life went on...with constant memories of my first born. Birthdays, Christmases..was he okay? Was he good in school? Were his adoptive parents good people? I had to trust that they were... Fast forward Thanksgiving Day, 1997. The phone rings...I answer and a male voice says..."I'm looking for a very special person and I think you may be able to help me. I believe you to be my birth mother." ....36 years after his birth, my son and I were reunited. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
....and that is why I still believe in happy endings. Oooh, I just remembered! Nancy Lee, when we were visiting you a few months before the reuniting...I handed you a piece of a jigsaw puzzle that I had found on the pavement somewhere. You asked what it was and I said, "It's the missing piece to the puzzle." The universe was trying to prepare us for a wonderous event. *sigh* |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
"....shivers...." |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Somehow I knew he'd found you, Nance. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
And he is sure a cutie patootie like his Mom too. Nancy Lee, back then we didn't have the choices we have today, and I remember all too well friends going away to "visit aunts" and also remember their thoughts were occupied with the same questions as yours. This is what makes a Mother - having the good sense to do what is right for any child, and sometimes that means sharing them with another family. When you keep that child in your thoughts out of love and not guilt, eventually that old never giving up attitude prevails, as it did in your case. That old saying that "blood is thicker than water" is so true, as so many adopted children are seeking out their birth parents nowadays. I am SO glad yours had such a happy ending, and just think - he lives in my neck of the woods, so maybe you and I might just meet one day. Now that I would love! (and a helicopter ride LOL) |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Sharon, I just noticed... "2nd star to the right... then straight on till morning" (one of my favourites) Somehow I just knew you would understand. But, sorry to say he is no longer in your neck of the woods, but back here closer, in Ontario. No longer with that airline company, but I can get you a tour of Niagara Falls in a Lancaster bomber! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Oh boy, Nancy....can he give me a ride from Florida to go to see you? Wouldn't that be neat? Seriously, Nancy, when I read up there that you and your son were reunited, I couldn't keep the tears of joy from flowing...... I like those kinds of tears..... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Next time I am out that way, I will buy you two lunch, and that is my promise, (bring that sister of yours along too will you?) I am so glad he is closer, that is wonderful! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Nance? It had to be that way. It just had to be. If not? Nancy Lee? You would have a team of hormonal supersleuth women on your side... (That can be a good thing, too, fellas) IF you happen to be on the same side... I've a friend from college--count her among my very best girl buds-- her name is Kathe'. (Kay-TUH!) That's exactly how she would tell you to pronounce it too. With just that amount of spunk. We went to UNO together, and honestly, I don't know why we got to be such close friends. She was a serious student, and I? sigh... When "the" question of "what's your major" was asked, and everybody answered dutifully? Kathe' would intervene for me--"This is Karen--she's taking up space." I never argued with her--she was right. There are, on occasion, people I meet that resound within me. I know them as our eyes meet, even before a word of introduction. The day I met Kathe' I was wearing argyle socks. I was well into the party daze the night before, so I woke up late. My mom and dad were in the kitchen, as my mom fussed, "aren't you going to be late?" as she readied herself for work. My dad had just gotten home from the graveyard shift, and was dunking burnt toast (he liked it that way) into his black coffee. He wasn't amused. I donned my pair of argyle socks then, saying, "Look Ma, I'm a college student!!!" Then I put on jeans that I had cut off to calf length, (ripped fuzzy) and a pair of sandals, that criss-crossed, showing off the diamond pattern of my socks. An over-sized cable-knit sweater to match the socks, my bookbag and a visor and my "look" was complete. I slammed back the rest of my coffee, saying, "see ya!" when my mom, interjected. "you're NOT--are you?" She wasn't sure if I was kidding or not. "Are you going to school like that?" Um. yeah? Nevermind. She was late too and we both ran for the door while my father just breathed his sigh of relief. I laughed the entire way there too, chuckling to myself on the bus at the sight of my socks, so proudly showing with my "flood-water" "rips." The amusement wore off by the time I got to the campus. I was late. I'd missed my nine a.m. and half of my lecture class in Anthro--so I went to straight to lunch. (That's a habit that took me years to break--I've almost got it too!) I ordered a salad and a tall fountain "coke", and I was squinting into the crowd looking for a safe place to land when I saw my friend, "Donna" sitting with a lively group of people on the left. I didn't know any of the others. I nodded and went right, finding a quiet spot on a dirty table, recently evacuated. I put up the pretense of an open book and stared at it, and I tell you, I could feel their eyes on me. Then I heard, "HEY!" up close--Donna had come to fetch me--"come join us..." "Really," I said, "I'm fine." But Kathe was watching and hollered across the cafeteria, "come on?" Shrug. So I did. * * * I hate being "checked out". They did too, give me the old 'up and down', as I gathered my tray and book, and walked my argyles over there. It seemed like a mile. I was really regretting the socks by the time I got to their table, especially when Kathe' rolled her eyes and said, "Love the socks!!!" before I sat down. "Thanks," I said lowly. I was blushing furiously too, and I worried that social anxiety would get the best of me. Again. I was afraid I would have an anxiety attack, right there in front of God and everybody. "I wore them just for you." I don't know why I said it, or even where I found the balls to say it, but I'm glad I did--because to my surprise, Kathe' just giggled, rolling. Then? She showed me hers. We were friends for life. * * * Instantly, we were the kind of friends who finish each other's sentences, nodding excited, and interrupting, all girlish glee giggles and just bubbles... We told each other everything too. In about an hour. Smile. I jest, of course. But it sure seemed that way. But once, in the weeks that followed, in that love-happy spell women fall into when meeting like minds, I had asked her, with all seriousness, how she stayed so focused. This woman worked hard. She wasn't riding a free check from moms and pops. She had no student loan. (She qualified, but didn't want the debt!!!) She waitressed and paid her own tuition. And? She made "A's". She had my total respect. So I asked her, "How do you do it?" And she told me that two years prior, she had given up a child for adoption. (no, the story wasn't that simple, it never is) But I understood, then, that I lived a kind of privelage that she never knew. She felt a responsibility I didn't understand. She envied my freedom from that, and I respected the strength I detected in her. She knew "he" would come looking for her one day. She was going to be ready. So she became a nurse. * * * Years later, when I moved into that tiny rathole apartment to have my own babies, she was there for me again. She bought me clothes, saying, "I'll bet no one thought to buy you a thing!" She ooohed and ahhhed over every step of my boy with me, never once voicing the pain of her loss. But I knew... So we started out just talking about him. Then we gathered some details. (nod...you know it ladies) Then we found out his adopted name. Then his address. sigh. I guess we stalked the boy a bit. (can you call that "stalking"?) He lived near me too. (This was a closed adoption, but among family.) So we'd drive there and park on days we knew he'd be off school. Once she said she just wanted to hear him, so I did a quick phone survey. I called his house and asked him questions about his television viewing habits. We both cried when I finally had to say, "Thank you for completing our survey--your coupons will be in the mail." * * * It was a decade later, that she called me, and said, "guess who called me last night?" I didn't guess correctly. I thought Professor mumble-mumble had finally looked her up again. "Nope." she said, smug, with my every miss of guess. Then she told me. "Last night, I talked to my son." boom-boom-boom-heart-beat-boom "oh Kathe'..." * * * Tears then and tears now... It takes such an incredible act of courage and faith, and such stamina of spirit to live through those unknowing years, to an undetermined future, all done, so unselfishly. I'm honored to know women such as these. Nancy? smile. I'm so glad to know you. Come sit at our table, will ya? Thank you... * * * You are grace. p.s. Bring your argyle socks. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Smiling... on all of you  |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
your stories are wonderful.. M |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Karen...I thank you so much. What a beautiful story. Thank you all for understanding. Once more you have given me..that 'I'm not alone' feeling.. Sharon..you're on for the lunch! Gawd I love this 'safe place' you have created Karen. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
    I think that says it all! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
 Okay...okay...only one pic I promise! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Sweet! *beaming at you* This is so much more fun than a tupperware party! Love ya nance! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
 at serenity...and we don't evenhave to bring our pocketbooks! |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Nancy Lee....and all you other wonderful people...and yes, thank you, Karen for the way this place is...The story of your son and his adoption and then rebirth into your life made me see again the mistake I made with the abortion of my first child. I have something that I wrote of that ...some of you may have already read, but others I'm sure, haven't. I'd like to post it here because when I first posted it....I think that no one knew what to say in reply...so it dropped. This is a place where I know it will be heard. If I could do it over again, I would have had that baby. The Small Death of 1963 In the 50’s, style was petticoats and orange lipstick, and beer was the drug of choice. Our family had dinner together and watched Father Knows Best. Going steady and making out in the back seat of a car was what nice girls did. Bad girls went all the way, slept around, got pregnant sometimes and disappeared. The only birth control I knew about was a condom, and nice girls didn’t go to the drug store for anything but ice cream sodas, that left self control as the only option, along with guilt. Sex wasn’t talked about, it was giggled about at slumber parties. I sailed through those years and into my senior prom obeying all the rules. When I was 19 I fell in love. He was 29 and moving on with his life. He was leaving, without any regret, to make something of his life at a big, fancy university. I wanted him to say "I can’t live without you, come with me," or "I can’t live without you I’m going to stay." He said neither. I followed him. He didn’t whistle, although I must have seemed like a dog waiting for him to say "heel." "In pursuit of higher education," I lied to the questioning parents. In pursuit of love, I whispered to my heart. I left my sheltered life for the grassy hills and idealism of a university. It was like plunging from a diving board into a swimming pool and finding out you were in the middle of the ocean instead. When I arrived, he had already disappeared into the paperback books, madras skirts and coffee houses of intellectual pleasure. Once in a while he would call. We would ride on his scooter out of the crowded corridors of knowledge, to the hills where the buildings and roads were manageable, and the song from the bell tower less formidable. He shot golf balls into the net’s waiting arms and I watched the fog creep across San Francisco bay. Sometimes he would take me home to his one room with the mattress on the floor. "We’ll study," he said. "Bring your books," he said. He studied while I memorized the colors of the fabric on his shirt, considered the glaze of his skin against the twilight desk lamp and watched the dark curls against his neck, caress his skin. He laid his books down on the bed and stroked the printed paper, then turned to me. I loved him with the purity of youthful madness, and he responded to the silken moment and melted into me with the carelessness of his arching back, and forgot to leave, before leaving his seed scattered and searching. Four months later I knew I was pregnant. "Lets get married and be a family," I said, thinking at last I would be with the man I loved, forever. "I’m not ready to get married," he said. "There’s only one thing to do." He asked a girl he knew to be my companion. "She knows what to do," he said. Callowness doesn’t know what direction to take. There are no sign posts to tell it which way to go. I let myself be led. There was a certain gray quality to that morning. It pressed into my skin, held my steps back, prevented the perfect breath. I could feel it hitch there in my throat as I tried not to take it in fully, but, of course I had to breathe. I couldn’t just decide that today I didn’t like the quality of the air and choose not to. The car whined, purred then choked, a living thing, a cohort, a companion in this agony of breathing. She was beside me, red hair corking out the window, disturbing the air with its exuberance, its fiery threads. She was supposed to be my protector, my teacher, she was the one who knew the way into this dark place where I had never been. I didn’t know her, not really, her story was locked and my gaze didn’t shift the stillness of her voice into telling. She must have done this too, I thought. How else would she know about the doubt and feel of the tangled ropes of death and forgiveness battling in my bowels? I could tell by the tilt of her eyes and the way she watched me that she knew first-hand. We squeezed into another country, past border guards and brightly colored pedestrians and when I turned to question her face, Death was in her eyes. Then I understood finally and forever what I was going to do. Into the streets of noisy faces and the congestion of smells, like ripe sewage leaking into the air, we drove. I heard the cry of a baby and held the small swelling of my body to protect it from the blaring horns and the poverty of empty faces that insisted on being present. Like a puppet, I followed her to the cracked corner, past the swollen silent buildings, passed the glass tomb store fronts and into the white room. I wanted her to take me back to where I left the person that I was; back before that long night of heavy breathing and naked brown eyes; back before I thought that being his was all I wanted to be; before the legs tangled, before he melted like warm honey into the sanctuary of my girlhood. I thought I would explode onto the ceiling of that room and paint the white, sterile walls with the blood of a that blissful union. I remember wishing I could push that careless creation into "pause." Just wait, I said, till I am a little older, till I can be who I want to be, till I can be your mother. You deserve a mother. She held my hand in the fog that descended on that day into my memory, and when I could see again, the tiny agony of life, glued to the fabric and central core of me was gone. She held my hand still. Her freckled, long fingers trapped the small beige flutter of mine, as she pulled me into the evening. When I returned to him later, after the white sheet confusion of day had moved into the dark and moonless fact of evening, I saw him for the first time, my vision cleared by the truth of what had happened. "Let’s have a beer to celebrate," he said. *** Forgive me for reposting what happened...but it is the best of ways I can say it, I still think, and thanks for being the listeners that you are. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Dear, dear Martie. My heart ached for you this evening as I read your story. This must have been a terrible burden to bear. How frightened and confused you must have been. You are a loving, caring, generous lady. If this little soul had been meant to be born, it would have. This is the way I think. I don't know what else to say....I am tearing up again. Bless you sweet one. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Oh my dear Martie... Hugging you so tightly now. We had choices to make..each one in a different circumstance. You and I are about the same age I imagine. And, things were very different back then. They used to say..only the good girls get caught..the bad ones know better. That stuck in my mind and made me feel less 'dirty'..less bad somehow. There are so many stories like ours.. with just as many different endings. The way yours ended was in God's plan all along. We don't know the reason...yet. But, does it ever really end? The wondering..what if, and if only... Wiping the tears here. Thank you for coming here tonight to tell of a different ending, on an all so familiar happening, and oh how my heart aches for you tonight. Sweet gentle Martie,..you are among friends. I am proud of you for sharing your story, and thoughts. Love you dear lady.. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ah sweetheart...NancyLee is right. We have choices to make, although some will always carry the memory of the day with them, when they gave a dream away. No child would want a callous father...So God took the child back in... I do so very well understand. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
....and then there are those of us who fell in love (so we thought) too young. Gave ourselves to someone who should have been just a good friend.... not a potential husband. Became pregnant at 17, final year of highschool. The daughter who was going to succeed...do great things....never disappoint...never, never, never. Instead, I had to leave school, which I had enjoyed so much, plan a wedding, and prepare for motherhood. All in one big WHOOOOOSH !! I was terribly ill during the first four months of my pregnancy. Still a child, in bed, wanting so badly for my mother to speak to me, comfort me. It was not to be. My father finally expressed concern to my mother about my weakening condition. She came round abit, but warned me that she would not cry at my wedding. I carried a heavy burden of guilt and shame. I had always shone in my parents eyes. Not now. The worst thing of all, my mother was dying of cancer. Oh, she wasn't hospitalized yet....but soon. The sadness in her eyes when she would look at me - which wasn't often, was almost too much to bear. The only person who helped me smile back then was my sister, Nancy Lee. The two of us....two little black sheep in a family who wanted pure white lambs. So, I was married in March 1968 - a beautiful baby girl was born after 18 hours of labour in that October. We brought her home on a rainy, cold day. I looked at her and thought.... "now what?" I was still a kid myself. I know ! We'll grow up together you and I. That's the ticket. So we did. My mother passed away January 1969, three months after my daughters birth. She did get to hold her finally before entering hospital for the last time. I placed the precious bundle in her arms and Mom stared down at the pink, soft skin and bluer than blue eyes. "She is perfect." my mother whispered through tears. I think......I pray, she had forgiven me. When my daughter was 11 years old, her father and I divorced. We gave it a good try though. I guess what I am getting at is, no matter what decisions we make in life, no matter the outcome of an action taken, we are only human. I don't believe any of us meant to hurt or embarrass or disappoint anyone. The world didn't stop turning, life continued on, and heaven still waits. |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
"I guess what I am getting at is, no matter what decisions we make in life, no matter the outcome of an action taken, we are only human. I don't believe any of us meant to hurt or embarrass or disappoint anyone. The world didn't stop turning, life continued on, and heaven still waits." Chris...it is so true. Growing is often a hard road...and the rocky part is where all the lessons are that show us how to go the rest of the way. Thank you for sharing this piece of your life. I have another similar story, but I'll save it for later. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Martie? me too. Not quite like that tho... No. It was a lot different in the eighties. I wish I had the wisdom to write the words that could comfort you, but I only know what is right for me. As I think on regrets for all the things that I've done in my life, it's difficult to imagine. I'm just getting to a point, where I like me a little bit, and I wouldn't be this person without the errors, without the tears. It's unlikely I would have had the children that I do have, without knowing that particular untimely soul who preceded them. So I have come to terms with that particular aspect of my past. And as harsh as it seems, the experience of that time makes up a very essential part of me. I am sad that it took such an extreme for me to finally open my eyes, but I'll always consider that brief life that fluttered in me a sort of volunteer soul--a very wise little being that stepped in so I could understand the sanctity of life. And if that's just a romantic rationalization, I also shrug and say, so what? Because the truth is, I did change after that, and when I did give birth to my children a few years later, I looked upon parenthood as a privilege of guardianship. I don't believe I ever took the lives of my kids for granted. (Hard to imagine, but there are people who do.) I always remembered the first one. They don't explain that, even in the modern clinical settings either. Nobody ever mentioned that women mourn. But oh, how we do just that... * * * Hugs and blessings Martie, and to you all... and yes, I'll be back. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Now, if ya'll don't mind? I do believe I mentioned that I am an excellent party hostess. and for some reason? TUPPERWARE is resounding tonight. Yep, good people, serenity actually hosted a tupperware party. It did quite well on sales too. I also boasted the most MEN in attendance than previously scored. (I don't know why that was an extra award for my sponsor, but it was.) See? What men don't generally understand, is that once a party is given for you--(my baby shower) you are obligated to reciprocate. So...OH. WAIT. I have to tell about the pink party. The first party was a Mary Kay group dynamic: Before the tupperware party,? I was hit with an invitation to a cosmetics party. And yes, on my invitation, underneath the practical printeds, was hand-inked, "I came to yours--you come to mine.." Yup. Obligation. So I grabbed the hubby, and got a rare babysitter (I promise you that I can count on two fingers how often that occurred) so yes, I/he attended a Mary Kay Make Up Party. My husband was actually looking forward to the facial. I was too. (He needed it. )So we went, off to a party, that, well, the rules of which were beyond our understanding. (and yes, there was a pink cadillac parked in my friend's drive.) So we entered by way of a weird sideporch that wrapped to the front door, and upon ringing her bell, I had the door open in mid-ping to reveal a woman, lips outlined in bozo-esque surrealism, handing me and my husband nametags. OH. oh. (It's gonna be like this...) *wince* So we filled in the blanks and entered. There we made the mandatory introductions (barely). We were one minute till late. * * * Then this woman, dressed completely in pink, stood, and told her Mary Kay Success story (all the while praising the line of Mary Kay cosmetics that kept her looking young and fresh. She even bragged on her sex life.) Sheesh. (We wished she hadn't.) I looked at her and thought that women over thirty should NOT wear frosts over the eyes. (It just adds drama to the tiny lines and wrinkles, yanno?) I really thought I was doing a good job though. I learned my lessons long ago and I "oooohed" and "ahhhhhhhhhed" accordingly, passing the cosmetics around, as she explained shadowing and drapery to those of us who hadn't yet painted backdrops for the art department. I mean, it's not my cup of tea, but I REALLY thought I was behaving myself. Then Kathe' motioned for me from the kitchen. "Who?" MOI? I pointed at my chest. "Yes--you--Ellen." She stared ice. "Help me in the kitchen please?" oh. Of course. * * * "So what's up Ellen?" She asked me with a pointed eye. I blushed and smiled, pointing silently to my name tag. I had written, "Ellen James", where I should have put...shrug, did it matter? *giggle* . . . Just a nod to John Irving, I had thought when I wrote the name. It didn't occur to me that no one would know... sigh. OH. I was wrong. * * * "Why are you so bad?" She had understood my joke immediately, but I guess it was out of place. * * * In fact? I ordered a few products and signed for them all, as "Ellen James." They had no problem with the billing. But this just shows the attitude I had to wimmen-parties... I never liked them much till now. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
People's Parties They are on my mind tonight. I'm listening to "Rosetta" by Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys--remembering listening to this same song through the walls on those special nights when music lasted longer than bedtime, and how I would hop up, begging for a peek and a glass of water, to catch my Dad actually dancing with my mom...not understanding the husk in the voice, but fascinated that they actually touched. "Go to Bed." They both agreed. There were nights I'd slide down the wall, and listen...in the hall, out of sight, not for them, but the music--Chet Atkins, Bob Wills, and of course, Hank Sr. I learned to love a fiddle. I was tapping toes before three. I understood... Loretta Lynn? It was just that humanity in her voice, and Patsy? ohhhhhhhhhhhhh... Patsy Cline quivered resonance before I knew what that meant. I just shuddered skinny shoulders, amazed that it could happen. but sometimes? When my Dad was at work, I heard the blunt intro flats of Herb Alpert, and I wondered at the effect that it had... *happy music* In that coffin-styled stereo-cabinet, my mother's pride and joy, she stacked the discs, pressed to play, one, after the other. She wore cotton shirt dresses, button-downed, dancing as she cooked, sometimes saying, "come here boo" and then she'd dance with me. smile... I'm listening to her music this morning, (Mexi-cali Rose now) wondering if she knew, that once upon a time, I watched her dance... And blushing, wondering now, if my kids watch me... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
When I saw the jump in numbers on this thread, I knew I should read. But I grabbed the Kleenex box as I came in. Good thing, too... so many memories floating about now... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Hi everybody, forgive me for skipping over from the last page where Karen was telling about her friend Kay-TUH. Something she said about responsibility and the "rat-hole apartment" she lived in to have her babies reminded me of something........ When I finally decided to leave my daughter's real Daddy, after five years of wondering if I would survive the night and wake the next morning....my daughter and I moved into a VERY small trailer. It was a cute little thing not much bigger than a travel trailer. I have always loved to collect things....what-nots, dolls, salt and pepper shakers...all kinds of dust catchers. Well, I honestly didn't know where I was going to put all my stuff, plus have somewhere for me and my little girl to sleep and live...but I did. I remember that I felt so free and that I could breathe again. I didn't have someone that threatened to kill me, my daughter and himself every day. He said that if he couldn't have me, no-one else would. Anyway, all that is a story that continued until he died just a few years ago. He would not leave me alone....but right now, I want to tell ya'll about the cute little trailer.... It was so cute...and little....but I really fixed that little place up for me and Tonia. The land-lady told my Mom that I had it looking like a little doll house. I don't know how, because I didn't have a lot of money, and my ex never thought he should pay child support. He thought that would make me go back to him....that and trying to make me feel guilty. I worked at a nylon factory...and I had a blast!!! (and I have so many stories about that factory where I worked shift work. ahahahaha) I loved that little trailer that Tonia and I lived in...it was home to us for a little while......we could have stayed with my Mama and Daddy and had things a lot easier, but then I would have had to be a perfectly good little girl all the time....just like if I lived with them now??? |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
AWWWW, Nancy, he is just as adorable as you are!!! Ya'll are sooo cute!! I LOVE happy endings...now I've got to go read some more.  (from joy and memories) |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Dear sweet Martie, I understand why you would think this was the thing to do. I was also brought up at that time of life in the 50's. The only difference is that I got married when I was 17 because I thought that I could have my freedom and do what I wanted to do...that I would be out from underneath the strictness that I was raised under....oh my, what a mistake I made. But, "I made my bed and had to lay in it", I was told..... Martie.... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Oh Chris, I wasn't pregnant when I got married...but only because I HONESTLY thought that my Daddy would beat me to death if I did get pregnant, so I just went ahead and got married. I should have just stayed friends, too. My Daddy was so against the marriage that he offered him money to stay away from me and not call for two weeks....Daddy told him that I would have someone else by then, and I probably would have had....because I didn't love him. Instead, I quit regular high school and finished my last year at the Adult High School....me, who had taken college preparatory classes since the 8th grade...the one of my Dad's two kids who didn't have to study to make A's and B's....the one who had a bright future....who had to work to provide a living for her daughter, who she got pregnant with not long after the ceremony. I never seemed to have the money or the time to go back to school to get a college education, though I've wished so many times that I had. The marriage didn't even last 5 years..... |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
something from above caught my eye: quote:if one knows a woman, they also know the truth of this. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Mother’s Wallflower She was almost always right. I balked at the idea of a homemade winter dress for the eighth grade dance. How childish! How peasant! How poor. But she decided on a satiny cotton white on white, with small graceful white flowers almost appearing as if they were snowflakes, perhaps, if I knew snow, there in the valley of Santa Maria, California. It was she who decided that a long, deep-red velvet bow should grace the almost 13 year old wasp-waist, and it was she who decided that the smallest of tinkling bells should hang from the inverted V ends. But oh! Disgraced, I was, in the black “ballet slippers”, which were, as she thought, like “Audrey Hepburn’s shoes” in Sabrina. Not real ballet slippers, but soft “slip-ons” with NO height and NO heel. She wanted to keep me a child. I had no date. I didn’t need to go. But, it was my first winter dance. Just to watch it, might be worth hugging the wall. No one would notice me, anyway. I wasn’t popular – not the way Mom dressed me. I wanted to see how it was done, how people acted, I wanted it to be – special. She, of course, was ruining the special of it. But the material had been bought, and if white weren’t bad enough, she pulled out a pattern that was old! It was a dress, full skirted, summer sleeved, jewel neckline, from the 50’s! Oh, the shame!!! The look from my father’s eyes told me a thankful voice was required. Mother pulled more than her weight around, and to eyeball the material and put together a dress almost overnight with the help of the old Singer machine, well, where WERE my manners? Dad could shame a rolly-polly pill bug into curling up, just with the look of a silent “What?” in order to shame his intended victim into instant remorse for even having raised an eyebrow. So when I became quiet, very quiet, and helped her as I could, with the process of putting together this hated dress, she commented, “You are always thinking. Your mind is always going somewhere, and someday, it will find a road on which it will be happy.” I have always remembered those words. Because indeed, even today, it seems I can’t turn off the thoughts. Ever. Notice how, when you are driving with someone, or walking with someone, and you ask, “what are you thinking?” they say “nothing”. How can anyone be thinking of “nothing”? How does that happen? Isn’t there SOME thought going through their mind? Even if it is that they don’t want to be with the person they’re with? Is that it? Is that person, “nothing”? Sometimes. My father claimed the dress “magnificent!” I can still feel the blush on my cheeks from his proud eyes. Then he slipped that look of pride toward mother, who could make something out of “nothing” and I looked down at the black slippers on my feet, confused over the feelings and thoughts I had. The mirror lied, showing a young girl with summer blonde hair swept back and held up with her going-out-to-dinner combs. The white of the dress brought up the pink in my cheeks. I was a color combination of sun and pink, sitting on winter white. Just a simple wallflower. Both mother and father had spent that week teaching me how to “dance” to their music, slow timed waltzes, the Foxtrot, the Two-Step, even [horrors!] the Charleston. Really! It was 1964! Didn’t they know about the Beatles? I mean, we had ALL watched the Ed Sullivan show! I tried to hug the walls. I really did. I saw the boys looking at me, grins on their faces. My dress was not the colors of the year, nor was it fashionable. It was, heaven forbid, classic from the shoulders down. I found a wall, and put my back up against it. Cool, almost chilly, I stood there and watched the colors of the season gyrate around me to music that was louder than I had ever heard, but I could catch the words, and I listened to them, as people I knew floated around me, talking, laughing, enjoying life. The white dress begged me not to hold the red punch, or pick up any cookies or cake, for fear of my ever-clumsy self, dripping color onto the snow in flow. Because, as I moved, the skirt took on a life of its own, and I was unaware of how it rippled beneath the still slender colt-like limbs. I was also unaware of the shimmer of it, as the embroidered sheen caught the lights and glimmered easily. All I was aware of was the goofy grins from gangly boys and the tell-tale smell of an old gymnasium, which had once belonged to the Air Base military men. I thought of my father, who could never serve, 4F as he was due to his allergies. I thought of my mother, who had stayed up late sewing a dress I thought I despised, but the small flowers that almost looked like snow was growing dear to me. Ashamed, I kept my eyes down, my ears and heart listening to the music of the Righteous Brothers, the Beach Boys, and those upstarts, the Beatles, as the platter turned, and spun the night along. Then, one of the younger, and very handsome teachers, approached me. I was not in any of his classes, and he was spending a night away from his family, to act as a chaperone. He bridged the time between my parents and myself, and quite possibly [as hindsight is] saw both stories to the equation of the little wallflower. He asked if I would like to dance. My heart stopped. My breath stopped. To dance would mean to walk away from the wall, which, at that particular moment, I would have sworn was holding me up. But his hand was out, and I put mine, slowly, hesitatingly, into his. Surely, surely, this was just me, thinking of what I wanted to happen. Some tall stranger [my mother always said I was thinking!] would walk up to me and true to Cinderella, I would dance a step or two. I would be the one all eyes were watching. I would be the Belle of the Winter Dance. I truly don’t remember what eyes were on me, if any. It was enough to concentrate on the slow, moving music, and to be in the arms of a very handsome man, who would not kiss me, or walk me home, let alone drive me there, for my father would soon be along to chariot me home. But the music didn’t seem to stop, one slow tune fell into another, and then he simply said, “thank you so much for the privilege.” I had danced, not with any of the gangly boys during the fast, heaving dances of the day, but some slow, graceful dances that only a gangly Fred Astaire could perform with his beautiful Ginger. I do remember coming to my senses, and realizing that the teacher and I were one of the few on the dance floor. That was when the burn came to the cheeks, for the wallflower had dared to step away from the wall, and people, peers, were watching. That wasn’t right. I was a thinker, and watcher. I wasn’t to be thought of, while being watched. I thought it providential that Dad showed up just then, poking his head through the gym doors, to see if I was ready to go home, a tad early before the closing down of the dance. I didn’t mind. Knowing that I had been watched, while slow dancing with a very handsome man, was shame enough. I couldn’t even dance with a young man my own age. An older, very handsome gentle man had felt sorry for me. At least, that’s how I looked at it then. Perhaps time is its own teacher in ways we don’t think about, until we see or feel, or hear, or smell something that brings the moment back. That’s when our total perception of the time kicks in to high gear, and we view it, almost as a soul out of body. Everything comes back, except the embarrassment. The blush, perhaps, shades our cheek again, for a moment, as the light of the evening casts the events as it truly happened, and the shadows step back, letting wallflowers emerge. Mother was almost always right. Someday, you will know of another time, and another instance, where she was almost right, again. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Such a tender, story Karilea. How thoughtful of that teacher...I can't help but wonder if he knew exactly how you felt. Somehow though I can't even picture you as a wallflower. Shy maybe..at first, but not a wallflower. AND, I'll just bet you looked beautiful, and the dress was, yes, beautiful as well. My grandmother used to sew..some of the most outlandish outfits for Chris and I..she had started to go blind in one eye..later in life, but continued on sewing..sorry, (that memory just came back.) Guess she didn't realize what things looked like she was attemping to make as she grew older and her eyes gave out When I was young I can remember the pinafores she made me for kindergarden, with embroidered butterflies on the frilly skirt part. She also sewed all the glitzy show costumes for the family. LOL..as they wore out I got them to wear for Halloween. I loved going as a dance hall queen or a cancan dancer. Thank you for this story..and the memory that was triggered. Yanno? It's so quiet in here tonight I feel as though I could just sit here and talk all night. Not to worry...I'll just sit a spell, then go, quietly shutting the door behind me. Nite and hugs all. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
NancyLee? You still around? This is for you... I Remember the Roof We still lived in Culver City then. In the 1950's, it was a good time for California. It was before there were dads taking kids to the job with them, before moms really worked outside the home, while raising a family. I do not recall why I was with Dad that day, but I would imagine, knowing myself as I do now, that it was because I had asked; moreover, because my Dad had a soft heart. I only know that we never talked about it in later days, and I probably know why. Dad had done what he wanted. He never questioned his actions. I was born in Los Angeles proper, and exactly as proper, I was delivered in a hospital known as the City of Angels, which is a direct namesake of Los Angeles. Chances are, you know that. Our family resided in a side district, known as Culver City. To this day, I remember the one conversation in which my dad was most remorseful: he did not have one thousand dollars to put into an acquisition of real estate, which would later become "prime land." Dad now resided in California, but his roots were in South Dakota. Mom's roots were in Oklahoma. No wonder I never felt like I belonged in California. Later on, my siblings and I learned that the "prime land" eventually yielded a multi-storied apartment building. It was southerly of where the first home in which I resided. Knowing what I know now, I would not live there today. But way back then, when Dad spoke of this fact, which he did not do often, I felt regret for him. I would have bestowed to him that one thousand dollars, if I had it then to offer, and if I knew it should or could have been given. At the time, it was not mine to give. I remember the tone of conversation, as if Dad had let us down, and it was something for which we should forgive him. In hindsight, he was sorry. In hindsight, I am not sorry. He always gave of his heart, which strengthens me to this day. I am off on a tangent. What I wanted to tell you was the day I knew I was my father's girl. I had learned from him, because of his qualities, that if subjected to a task, I would rise to it. He did that for me. Yes, I will have questions on something I do not know how to do, but that will not keep me from performing a task. It also probably helped provide me with my bullheadedness. All because my Dad put a hammer in my hand. He had taken me to work with him one day. In California, every day is mostly summer, so I do not remember the exact month…but it was sunny and warm, of course. To my knowledge, my Mom was not ill, and there was most likely no school that day. I just recall being up on the roof of a home that was in the process of being constructed, and I was going to be a part of that construction. The feeling of deep pleasure, of confidence, is what I remember best. I also recall that he said something akin to "a nail should only be hit three times." One time for positioning of the nail, once for strength, and the last, for the final result. Somehow I always equated this with Jesus. Dad was so very exact on the number of times I felt there had to be a reason. Jesus was a carpenter. My dad taught me this technique, and he taught it well. Even to this day, I know a weak nail, when it does not position correctly the first time. It will usually bend. They don't make nails well any more. They quit making houses correctly a long time ago. That was when Dad got out of construction. "I won't be part of something that won't outlast me," he had said. Dad also helped me learn not to be afraid to tackle something head on, like a nail. However, I also believe that because people have emotions, I may have not followed through as well as my Dad would have wanted. Roofing nails, to my knowledge, do not have feelings. People do. Dad was aware of people's feelings. I have always felt as if I inhabited a person's feelings. That day on the roof, Dad and I bonded, but back then it wasn't known as bonding. Dads were dads, and kids were kids. I was not aware of the dynamics of the situation at that time. I only knew at the time that dad wanted me there, and I could feel that! He told the fellows that worked with him on that house, "this is my daughter," and I beamed! If there was a lesson in climbing up upon a roof, then in listening to his instructions, I did not know it at that time. If there was a lesson in looking down, and being careful, they were then lessons well learned. There was also, most likely, a lesson in looking up. He had me look up into the sky, mostly, I think, so I would have some perspective when looking down. Up was much higher. Down wasn't that far, after all. I could get hurt falling down, but I most likely wouldn't die. Falling up, well, that was a different direction, after all. So that day, on the roof, I helped my Dad pound in some roofing nails. I probably also pounded some resolve into my soul. I believe on that day, it is exactly what my dad wanted me to learn. He did that for me. He allowed me to be lifted up, to know that there would always be something over me, and to not be afraid of what could hurt me. I will always remember being there with him, up on the roof. It was a good place to be. We should all spend at least one day on a roof. |
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Lady In White
since 2001-02-12
Posts 2799USA |
It's time, serenity, for another story, m'dear... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Ah Karilea..I just found your story about the roof now.. You know, if I weren't so afraid of heights I would go climb up on ours right now! Delightful and thank you!! Hi Lady!! So good of you to join us. And yes...Serenity...tis time for you to tell us another story...pleeeease. |
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Lady In White
since 2001-02-12
Posts 2799USA |
Thank you for the hello, Enchantress. I may be able to come up with a few stories of my own, someday, but for now? I think we all require a bit of Serenity. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hey ladies!!! I'll be back after I've caught up on some of the reading. I had some pc probs last weekend--freakin' adware yanno--and ya'll know me, I was just too lazy to download all the precautionaries until the 11th hour. Sheesh. and then there's the rennovations--right now the "other house" is just about gutted and ready for the 'pretties' to be installed... and nod, there's more, but I tend to wait until a story is done to tell it. But I'll be back. I didn't forget about ya'll. How could I? I'm crazy about you people. |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
Hey... I've been stopping in and reading a lot... and I thought I'd just say that you're all amazing, beautiful women. Reading is sort of like doing penance for me... I can't deal with the real thing... Sorry, I'm babbling. Anyway, I am the rebellious, depressed/borderline kid. I got kicked out tonight, and I'm sort of trying to process it... Anyway... I'm sorry... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Kielo, I'm glad to see you here. And, we are all here if you ever need to just talk....or just read and listen.....you can be you, here, and everybody loves you anyway...... I think that's called unconditional love....Right, everybody??? Something we all search for and are so blessed if we ever do find. I'm so thankful for my Honey-Love....it took me a lot of time and heartache to find someone like him....someone who loves me in spite of myself. I just hope that I don't mess it up by waiting too long to marry him. But, hey, he's waited for me for over five years...reckon he loves me, huh?? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hey ladies...I'm popping in again, to just say "howdy". I've been taking care of some family priorities this week, and after I get some rest, I'll be back. If only just to hug the stuffing out of you all! Ki? I've missed you, my buddy.And now, serenity is going to have a cold beer, and prolly a soft pillow. *whining* "I'm tired!" |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Hey everybody I'm checking in to see what's happening. Hope you all are getting the rest you need. I think I've gotten my days and nights mixed up again. LOL I took two long naps today......but stayed up most of the night, so I guess that was okay. LOL |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Whew. It's been a long week, and it feels real fine to be home, ladies. My husband had some medical tests, and that required some shifting in priority the past week. So I've been doing that hospital boogie lately and yes, I think we all know that routine. Reading and reading, and waiting and waiting and looking away sometimes too. Pulling the chairs and fetching of things, vending machines and "where is that nurse?" type of stuff. But Kari, I'm very saddened to tell you, that a friend of ours is ill as well. (That's right, a friend of ours.) Remember Mr. Gibbs? (Think corn and oyster recipe... )For the folks who don't remember, Kari once asked for a recipe for an oyster quiche-type thing. I promptly fetched my neighbor, because this woman is the cajun queen of cookery. And she did, very graciously come sit next to me here in my livingroom, at the pc, giving me step by step instructions as I typed. She was mystified by the computer, and kept asking me, "chez, you talkin' to somebody on dat tang?" Yes. Um, no. Sorta. YES. sheesh. But anyhoo... Her husband came down with pneumonia, and since he is also well on his way with Alzheimer's, I really don't think he will make it home. After seeing him, I really don't understand how he could. * * * I called him "my boyfriend" and I would go visit them, a few doors down, and we would sit in the kitchen while I watched his wife cook as I took mental notes of timings and seasonings. They would cook fine cajun meals and call us on down, and we would sit in their kitchen and laugh, eat, and chatter, listening to Patsy Cline and Hank Williams. I would sing to Mr. Gibbs sometimes, as my husband danced with his wife in front of the kitchen sink. It really was as charming as it sounds. He's a tough old man and he had been sawed apart and welded back together across his chest, and he never failed to show me his scars. "Here," he would say, unbuttoning, "Let me show you what they did to me..." * * * I saw him on last Thursday, though he did not see me. He was naked and small on the bed when I walked in--he was having lunch through a feeder tube in his stomach. He had two black eyes, though the side with the cut was much more pronounced. (He had tried to leave earlier in the week--and had he not slipped in the lobby, he may have succeeded in hitting the highway, not too far from those hospital doors.) So now he is tied down as well. He didn't know me when I saw him and I was glad. * * * They used to fetch me to sing to him--he liked, so much, the way I sing. * * * After lunch, they took the funnel out of his stomach, and covered him again. I waited a few minutes before talking to him. "Mr. Gibbs? It's me, Karen..." I clutched his hand feeling clumsy. I wanted to sing to him again, but I didn't. I was afraid I'd scare him, or startle the staff. I was afraid it would be inappropriate. So instead I kissed his head after wiping that stray combover back in place. I watched him curl up inside of himself and I thought, "surprise me, Mr. Gibbs..." "Come home." I said aloud, knowing he already was... [This message has been edited by serenity blaze (04-26-2004 08:20 AM).] |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
I am sorry Karen. Whether you think you need it or not..."cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh Karen... someday...later... I know you will take MY hand and introduce me to Mr. Gibbs... for now, I'm just holding you. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
K, i peeked in for the first time today, beginning here on page 22, that number has always had a pull on me. Anyhow reading the Mr. Gibb's story there are two things that need to be said. First of all you're a fantastic and open storyteller and i've missed and always l#ved that about you. Second, and I think i say this on behalf of all your friends, if you don't make a determined effort to write and publish your stories I'll never forgive you. Now i'm off to make some tea and recover, that story was enough to pull a tear or two from these eyes and i need to replenish my liquids. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Raph? I hope you decide to start back at the beginning... and then work your way to page 44.... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Raph? That was lovely of you to say so, thank you m'friend. And I'm okay, folks. Just lotsa things on my mind these days. And Mr. Gibbs is still giving the staff of West Jefferson Hospital hell tonight. He has surprised me before--so who knows? He really is one tough old guy underneath that teddy bear exterior. Thanks for listening. I really did need the "ear" last night. |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
Ethel, thank you. Aunty Karen, I've missed you too... and I'm back in my house, but don't pay attention to me. Just thought I'd let you know I'm safe and clean. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I love spunk. Give 'em hell, Mr. Gibbs! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Karen, my thoughts are with Mr. Gibbs....and you..that story was very touching. Hi Raph, good to see you here. Karen, your story of Mr. Gibbs and his wanting you to sing reminded me of Gary's Grandmother. She had breast cancer...she had an operation and they said it was all gone...then a few years later she got pneumonia (which would never get well). She started coughing up blood and so they did a scan on her where they went into her lungs. I forgot the name for it. They put the probe as far as they could get it...then it wouldn't go any further. There was a very large tumor...with all the chest x-rays she had, it wasn't found. They said the cancer wasn't caused from the breast cancer because it wasn't the same kind of cancer?? After it was found, the chemo and radiation treatments started. She wanted me to take her for most of them.... And, the trips in and out of the hospital started.......she wanted me to stay there with her most of the time.... She wanted me to be with her a lot....and she liked for me to sing to her....even riding down the road from a treatment, she would ask me to sing, while she laid back in the seat of the van of Garys's Dad that I drove to take her for the treatments. And in the hospital she would want me to sing...she said it relaxed her so that she could go to sleep for a little while. My friend who plays a guitar would come sometimes and another friend who used to sing in a quartet with me would come to help me sing for her. That friend and the other two in our group sang at her funeral...but I just couldn't. That was in October of 1999. Gary and his Dad wanted me to stay with her, here in her house, before she died.....just to be here because she wanted me to be. My husband had died in 1997 and my daughter is in Massachusetts and doesn't really want me around. Gary didn't want me to stay by myself over at my house. So, I started staying here. After she died, they didn't want me to go back to my house, so I'm still here. Sometimes it seems I can feel her here. And, it's not a scary feeling...it's very peaceful. She was a very good friend to me.....and more like a Mom to Gary than a Grandmother, since his real Mom left them when he was very young. She practically raised him. We called her Granny and I miss Granny so much.... We had a lot of long talks......she was a good friend. I hadn't found my daughter on the internet before Granny died...if I had, I could have talked to Granny about how I hurt inside about my daughter..... if I had, I would have known about my deceased husband abusing my daughter from the time she was twelve years old....my daughter's husband told me. I don't think my daughter knows, still, about the long e-mail letter that her husband sent to me. She won't talk to me about the things that happened. But, she does talk to me on the phone now. She wouldn't let me know where she was before he died. She tells me how much she loves me, but her therapist doesn't think she should see me yet?? Well, that's all I can say right now. I don't know how I got on that about my daughter...... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ethel? Because it was the right time... Let the healing begin... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
oh ethel... c'mere lady. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Hi all... just wanted to let you know I'm still here...sort of... I've been reading and trying to keep up... just haven't felt like posting much lately... but it's always nice to be able to come here and 'see' you all... Karen and Ethel?... hugging you both... and pulling for Mr. Gibbs... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
 Oh man, have I been there and sure do feel for you both. I have just in the last few weeks lost another very close friend, and can't even talk about it yet. I can feel the pain you and Ehtel must have felt, and only time mends that wound.Yes, Karen he is indeed on his way home but if you are going to visit again I would sure sing to him, as you never know you might just make him smile. I am sure it would cause you to smile too, not to mention the entire floor, and these are the memories that keep those we love alive in our hearts forever. Oh and by the way, I expect you to sing to us on the phone next phone call ya hear y'all? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
There. I sang for Mysteria. Now she owes me a lap dance. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I believe Mysteria's key word was "us"? Where was the teleconference, hmmmm???? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
actually PdV was there too! So technically, I am due a lap dance from TWO Sharons. Anybody care to take pics? |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
I've got a web cam and I know how to use it!! heh heh. Actually I want to hear you sing!! I also want to know what song you sang so I can kind of pretend I heard it. Pleeeeease.. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
smile... It was one that I wrote myself though. Not sure if it will help much, but here is the first stanza of "Happy Juice Blues": "What's there to do when there's nothing to do? I try, lord, I try but nuthin' feels right. So I reach for the glass like the dumb stupid-ass that I am-- strung out with those Happy Juice Blues..." sigh. I was nervous and "pitchy". But when I wrote that song I wasn't nervous. grin. I was so drunk I was singing "Happy Bluice Jews"... shaking my head oh the things I confess online... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
*Wild Applause!!* YOU are adorable lady! One day we will have a get-together down south and you will sing for us all...yes? Gawd I love this place! Did I already say that? Well, hell I just said it again. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Hey, Karen, I heard the harmony to your song and don't even know the tune.....now just how could that be?? Do you play any instruments, Karen? How about anybody else? You know what, Nance, I love this place too....have I told ya'll that lately? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Actually? Ethel? I play a mean kazoo. I know a few chords on guitar though, and some piano scales, and every now and then, when I'm drunkly dramatic, I'll hit a few chords on the piano...leaving ashes in my wake...it's downright pitiful. And the guitar? shrug. I just picked up a guitar because I thought it was strange to just walk around through life bursting into song--kinda like a Mel Brooks movie or somethin'. I just wrapped a guitar around me for the sake of dignity. I love to sing, even though I've no aspirations of being a singer. Something about it just feels good. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and btw? I've a sneaking suspicion that Nancy Lee sings too... watch out lady, mysteria will be asking for a phone concert... |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
ahhh, did someone say musical instrament? My piano was my poetry, before I had a word muse...I still love her as she has been with me since I was seven. But, alas, she is not well...no more able to be tuned..but I still play now and then and treasure the times when the sound comes from the soul. And the guitar...well that I used in my classrooms...yep..the kids thought I was a rock and roll star...of course just having one in my possession, puts me in that catagory...and I actually played and sang a few kid friendly songs. Hi! I just got back from a wonderful visit with Liz Santos...and met Denise and Nan as well. It was wonderful! When I get my film developed, I'll share. Hugs all! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I HEARD...and can't wait to hear more! and yay! pictures! gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
*SmilinG*....I hum....LOL.... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
what a coincidence, I do too! wanna start a band? (or maybe we could just follow one?) giggleglee |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Okay, on a somewhat more serious note, I'm continually amazed by the patience of our benefactor, Mr. Ron Carnell. Gawd knows I've been a pain in the ass, and gawd knows I'm not the only one! (heh) But I was thinking on this today, and I related to the Sharons on the phone that I had in fact, had a dream about Ron. Actually, it wasn't so much about Ron, but about his house. In my dream, I was crashing on Ron Carnell's couch. (simple enough, so far, yes?) But, yet, Ron Carnell was hardly present in my dream. I was in this kind of den area, (and blush, okay there was a bed there) but that wasn't what fixed my attention. In Ron Carnell's house was bookshelves, rows and rows and rows of bookshelves, with one of those ladder type dealies on wheels, enabling one to reach the upper shelf--IF there were books there. (They were all packed in boxes.) In my dream, I was a bit uncomfortable too, sitting there (on the bed--BLUSH) but with my knapsack packed ready to hit the door at any second. Whereupon, Ron came into the room and told me "Relax, wouldja?" Then he said he had some things to do and told me to make myself at home. So I did. I re-arranged the man's furniture! (I also shelved the books, Ron.) I remember thinking as I woke up, "I hope he likes it..." But anyhoo, all of this got me to thinking how easy you all have made it for me (a non-joiner type) to come here to pip, and stay. I wandered in my thoughts some more, and thought how much more tolerant Ron (and you all) are in comparison to me. I have one rule in my house, but it is all-inclusive. I call it the D.A.M. rule. D.A.M.? Yep. Don't Annoy Me. My children were raised with this rule and understood the meaning from the time they were toddlers. In fact, once, my mother-in-law was being, well, annoying one day, and my impatience was beginning to show, I'm afraid. "What?" she asked to nobody in particular. silence. Then my daughter, who was four at the time, replied, "Maw-Maw? I think you broke the D.A.M. RULE!" Nod. That one took some explaining on my part... So... I know I have thanked you before, but Ron, but if you can stand it? Thanks again. You have taught me much. I'm grateful. and? *cackle* see you in your dreams... |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Karen...you just make me glee!!!!!! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Hugging Martie home…giggling at Serenity…wondering if RON will dream tonight…and about what. LOL… Tomorrow I do it again. But I think I’m doing it better. This time, spouse will stay home, because I finally said, “you make me nervous”. So, he’ll do the one, no, two things I asked. And once again, I will manage to calm the butterflies and moths to get in front of a camera and read two or three poems. I will not stutter. I will put a little more action into my reading. I will continue to promote myself. And perhaps this taping [which was the second thing I asked him to do] will turn out better than the last three. Maybe. Maybe it will be a documentary to my grandkids. {look how silly grandma looked back then…} Maybe it will be a testament to stick-to-it-tive-ness {you’d think after five years she’d get tired of it.} And if you knew how rotten I am at self-promotion, you’d realize how safe I feel HERE, telling you this. Even though I’ve quietly asked for help before [tell me which one I should read, please…] I didn’t do it this time. I’m going to hang myself, alone …By my own choice, my own picks. If I get through it ok, [or if I think I did ok] I’ll let you know what they were, if you wish. But for now, just a silent little “let her do ok, God” tomorrow night, 8:00-8:10 CST, or DST [whichever one I’m in] would be SO appreciated…knowing you’re all with me right at that moment. And I’ll pretend the camera people is Serenity’s son…and the people standing around aren’t strangers, but really all of you. And you’ll give me five minutes to share, verbally. Yea, if I do that, I won’t stutter. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Wow!! Wouldn't it be cool Karen..and not at all surprising, to find out that Ron's den is exactly as you described it in your dream??!! *Nodding with a knowing smile here* And as for me singing..well, it's usually when my sister and I get together and we belt out the show tunes from the broadway musicals...or the old torch songs... "Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky...stormy weather" LOL. Instruments..let's see, there's an antique upright piano, several harmonicas, (a couple of guitars until my son moved), moracas of course, a keyboard, a couple of unique African intruments, yes a kazoo, a flute..and I am sure my sister can think of more.. BUT, the one I play?? I'm told I play a wicked tambourine on my derriere. You are so right Karen...the things we admit to here. Gleee....you made me do it!! Oh gawd, I just gleeeeeeed! Hugs to Martie..love ya lady. Ethel Mae? Thanks for your eyes today!! Karilea...you will NOT stutter....there. Okay? Good. Nite all.... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Hi all.......I'm just going to bed, after falling asleep watching a program on t.v.......but I just had to stop in here first..... to read........to see what ya'll are doing.....or have done...... Karen, I knew you could play some kind of instrument. I have a guitar, but never learned to play very well......I figured that Nancy could sing......and Nancy, you can play your tamborine for us.... and Martie, I wish we all could have been with all of you....I'm waiting for the pictures, too...and I would love to hear you play the piano...... and Karilea, I know that you will read your poems without stuttering......and will pick just the right ones to read...... oh, and Sharon, please tell the other Sharon that I said hi and that I think of her often........tell her to take care and to stay safe....... and Karen, isn't Ron the greatest...making us so comfortable in his home....I agree, wouldn't it be something if his den really looked like that? I wouldn't be surprised either, Karen, because I believe in dreams... well, I need to go to bed....I just felt compelled to come back here to see ya'll.....goodnight and sweet dreams everyone............ By the way, Nance, where is Chrislane. Is she okay? Tell her that I said hi. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
*SmilinG* You'll all know if you hear the GLEEEEEEE |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Was talking to a fellow pipster today about youth and the decisions we make... Love, longing and loneliness, all three are emotions that can make us lose sight of logic. Any one of the three can set us on a course of destruction. I am no different. The first time was when I was 18 years old. I had been in the Navy less than a year. In that time I had worked and partied. I had four girlfriends that lived in the barracks with me. Us four went out almost every night that we didn’t have duty. We would spend our last dollar getting into our favorite club (Sebastian’s, in Newport, RI.). I loved that club. It featured local bands. My favorite band was, “Sabotage.” One night I managed to stop the band, mid-song. How I managed that, is another story. After months of this life style, I started feeling burnt out. I didn’t really like drinking. I didn’t really like not having someone special in my life. I was depressed. I was homesick. Not for the home I had come from, but rather for the home I wanted to make (I am a homebody at heart). Then one night my friend asked me to go down to the pier with her. Her boyfriend had gotten into a fight and was restricted to the boat. I had nothing to do, so I went. Turns out the guy her boyfriend had gotten into a fight with, was someone I knew of and he was there (apparently the two guys were friends and had a misunderstanding which was settled after they got busted for fighting). I am for the most part, now at the age of 39, able to speak my mind. But back then, at 18, I was still shy and introverted. That night, on the boat, when I met the friend of my friend’s boyfriend (still with me?) is the first time I remember EVER being bold with a guy. It still brings a smile to my face. I sat there making idle chitchat with this guy, when I accidentally kicked him. He looked at me and said, “You touched me.” To which I replied, “Yes, and what are you going to do about it?” He kissed me. This guy was on restriction (not to leave the boat) yet he found a way to go out with me (to the club, drinking) and he got in more trouble for it. Then he got me to bring him a bottle on the ship. He got three days bread and water in the brig. (Yes, they really do that). Did any of this dissuade me? Not a chance, I was young lonely and longing for a home of my own. He ended up getting kicked out of the Navy and my girlfriend and I got an apartment for both of our men to move into once they were out of the Navy. (Never live with friends or family). Three months after that, I married him. I remember times, before we got married, being concerned about how much and often he drank. But I always talked myself down. With things like, “he is young, he will outgrow it.” I couldn’t have been more wrong… |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Susan? Meet extra-introverted. [I think we need to get Kit to make a "smilie meeting smilie and shaking hands" smilie...] Anyway... 39 hey? We need to meet, girl. Until PiP, I was staying in such a shell that some of my friends are now admitting that when they first met me, they [behind my back] referred to me as "ice princess". Gads. I am glad one of them finally "broke" the ice enough to tell me what they see, because it is NOT what I want to promote. Speaking of promoting.... anyone hear a GLEEEEEEEEEEE tonight? That was me! Tonight's "appearance" on Open Mic for Salina's Access TV was GOOD! Now, yes, I heard of some "criticism" when I got home...but at least he taped it, so I could at least critique myself, and yes, in a way, he was right, because the first two poems I read WERE some of my more "quiet" works which he refers to as "monotone."BUT.... Even the quiet works were acknowledged as I left the station. Have you ever had someone repeat back to you YOUR words? I mean, outside of PiP? And you stand there thinking "did I write that?" when they are smiling at you and thanking you for writing words like that! Then, out in the parking lot, some of the other participants where waving from their cars, saying "thank you for such wonderful poetry!" Wow. Double wonderment. Now, here are the three poems I shared with non-PiP people... The "Just Know" Times; Your Poem; and Cherry Pits and Grape Leaves Sweethearts and Gentle Men...thank you. Thank you once again [for it's never enough] for allowing me to be me...for letting me grow and fall; glide and drift; glee... and share...; but above all...for giving me a safe place to land. [Thank you, too, Mr. McKuen] You will NEVER know how special you ALL are to me. Serenity? I hijacked YOUR thread again. A special hug from me, to you. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
I stopped in to get caught up and started to kill myself laughing at this... quote: Hey not far off is she Ron, only those are extra copies of all the printed Passions poetry books you got stuck with. I sure hope tonight she doesn't open any cupboard doors at your house in her dream she will get a virtual bonk on the head!  Sorry, I couldn't resist that as the picture I had in my mind was just so clear and it was kind of hilarious, if you aren't stuck with the books that is Okay, so you had to be here. Oh, and by the way Karen can really sing the blues, but then didn't you expect she would? You're next up for a concert there Nancy Lee! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I didn't really expect my dream to be a psychic phenomenon or anything. Sheesh. If figger that if it's a sign of anything, it's a sign that I'm still spending way too much time here. giggle, and Kari, no no no, my apologies to you--didn't mean to ignore you, I've just been "hit and miss" again. I'm so glad that everything went well for you m'friend. and now? Guess what? I'm going to the Bowie concert I was bragging on earlier. and yikes! I only have eight hours left to get ready! I have to watch how "prepared" I tend to make myself for shows--do ya'll know how many shows I have absolutely no recollection of attending? (Ya'll don't?--me either) As is the nature of rock fans, when they get together and start comparing notes about which acts they have seen and the rating of such, here's my end of the conversation: I ask the hubby: "Was I there?" "Yes, you were." "Did I have fun?" "Don't you always?" * * * So? I intend to remember this one. Sometimes the hubby's idea of fun isn't mine, I have learned. He and I will have been married two years in August, but actually? We've been doing this dance of madness off and on now for 28 years... wow. 28 years. wow. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
28 years was on my mind as we went to the show last night. I asked my husband, "when did you start talking so much?" He asked me, in return, "When did you start listening?" Touche'. * * * I'm pretty sensitive to sound, and you'd think I'd be accustomed to loud, but actually I think it's worse as the hormones kick in. Poor quality sound makes me downright irritable. If you crank up bad sound, I'm liable to develop facial tics from nerves. It's for that reason that I don't mind being a little late for rock shows. Opening acts tend to put me on edge. I had no idea who was opening for Bowie, but the name was vaguely familiar. The Polyphonic Spree. I counted twenty-six members onstage. They were dressed in white choir robes edged with a spiritually purple border. All of them sang. And all of them danced--with the exclusion of those seated at instruments--such as drums, harp, & piano. But even they jammed as if possessed by something irresistibley intense. They were just so into it. They exuded this frenetic, shamanic type of energy, and had there not been that annoying "white noise" buzz in the sound system I would have been completely enthralled. I couldn't understand the vocals to judge the lyrics of their offerings, but it was very much a modern day "Up With People" offering. I noticed a bit of a following in the audience too--all white robes and enthusiasm. I think those unfamiliar with this group were quite taken aback. I heard the term "cultish" to describe them so many times that I told the husband mockingly, "It's settled. I'm calling the kids. We are selling everything we own to become followers of The Polyphonic Spree. I'll have Krista stitch up some sheets tomorrow." He nodded and said, "Okay!" He hadn't heard a word I said, but the woman next to me choked as she laughed in her beer. Shrug. I was only half joking. I really liked them. As they exited the stage, I was sitting there trying to remember the last time I had felt that excited about anything. I rather envied them. During the intermission, I took advantage of the facilities and stopped at the bar for a cocktail. Hmmm. Crown Royal? Boom. $5.25. So I put the five back in my wallet and grabbed a twenty, sighing. It was a long line, but I wasn't minding so much, as I'm an ardent people watcher. So I was just standing there, checking out the crowd, and I couldn't help but notice an impeccably dressed woman in front of me. I couldn't help but notice her because she very tall. I came up to her elbow. Hmmm. I was pretty sure she was a woman. I say "pretty sure" because my husband had just related his bathroom adventure to me--he had stood at the ornate urinals in the Saengar Theater next to a man in fishnet stockings and a green silk mini-dress, as the man's partner--a woman, waited for him just outside, dressed dominatrix style in studded leather, arms folded and foot-tapping, looking rather cross. Ooooo-kay. Shrug. Whatever gets you through your life, yanno? But anyhoo--that's why I was contemplating whether this gorgeous creature in front of me was male or female or in transition. She was next to be served, and I heard order a couple of drafts, whereupon she startled me by turning around and asking, "What are you drinking?" Huh? "Crown and coke." "And give this lady a crown and coke please." Wow. "Thanks," I said. She noted the measured shot of crown, and said, "Is that all they give you? Make it a double." She told the bartender. Wow again. Okay. STILL not enough. "Make it a triple." she said again, but I actually begged off, and told her that a double shot was more than enough. "Make it a triple and give her the coke on the side." At this point I'm just scratching my head. I'd never seen her before in my life and she'd just thrown a twenty on the bar to buy me a drink. Before she left, I looked up at her (way up) and asked her, "Um, how come?" "Because I'm tall." WEIRD. I returned to my seat and told my husband what had happened. I had to. The entire row could smell my drink as I nudged past them sideways (trying not to spill) to resume my seat. After I explained, he shook his head and said to a guy he'd been chatting with, "She picks up more women than I do." "Nice..." The bald-headed black guy looked at us with renewed interest. I frowned at my husband and asked again, "When did you start talking so much?" * * * I was disappointed with the show, too. Bowie seemed low-energy after the hyper opening act, and I had that disappointment with sound that tends to happen at the Saengar with groups more accustomed to playing large arenas. They'd hung stacks unnecessarily for such a small place, the sound was mixed poorly and not equalized. There were interesting things to see, of course--the light show was excellent, but Bowie also had a forty foot screen behind him with computer animated cartoons, which are now pretty passe' in my book. I expected him to play his dance music of course. (and he did) but I also expected someone who made a fortune playing dance music to dance--just a little--but unfortunately the largest expenditure of energy the man made was to change from one expensive guitar to the next. Perhaps I'm jaded but I was unimpressed. So? I meandered about the lobby, enjoying the mix of people populating the various lines, popping my head through the theater doors for my favorite tunes. It was the first time I'd seen David Bowie, and unless it's free and I'm escorted by the tall um, lady?, it will be the last. * * * But I just might go see The Polyphonic Spree again. So there ya have it folks, serenity's night on the town report. * * * WEIRD |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Karen...I swear I could hear your voice talking this. I have a phobia about concerts and crouds...I think it came from the time at a Hall and Oats concert..(did I spell Oats right?) when I swear someone put drugs in my white wine. They were just coming up to Sara's Smile...when the audience all stopped moving and became like a black and white photograph...and the only thing that was real was what was happening on the stage. I curled up into a little ball in my chair and started whimpering...and my husband had to take me home. He was not too happy. Pitty! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Martie? Thank you for "hearing" me. I've spent the last two (three?) years of my life trying to figure out which voice was mine, and I don't think the people around me are as accepting as you (all) are about which voice might be my own. I don't expect they ever will either. So thank you. Sometimes I feel like a juke-boxed serenity... I understand that 'claustophobia' in a crowd, too. I, also, always tend to waddle the other way, a lone penguin in stray. No applause necessary. I do not like a group mentality. I don't trust the sway of "critical mass." I have been to more rock shows than I can count, and a couple of times, I do recall, attempting to discuss the social phenomenon of the rock show with my fellow attendees. We sat earnestly, on the sidelines, observing, anthropologically, the catering of psychology to the crowd. We talked about the apparent dissolution of society--the breakdowns, and how, not just rock and roll, but how massive groupings of people of like mind (including politics) replaced a cumulative worship--that very need to gather and release--as we made the obvious comparisons of Hitler to JFK to Morrison as we talked about personal responsibility--as? We passed the joint. We didn't realize that we were lampooning ourselves. "Never trust anybody over thirty." Well? I gotta admit, the list of survivors is pitifully short. grin? Am I jaded? I suppose I am. My own "glory" stories make me tired these days--I'm looking for another pass through the mountains. I'm that bitch in the audience, arms folded across her chest, noting the lines of the wires of the lights across the stage and counting the "cans" ahead of time, knowing exactly what's in store for the show... wishing for surprise. You are way ahead of the game, Martie. You always have been. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I have never attended a rock 'n roll concert of performers from these last two decades, because, quite simply, I'm not a rock 'n roll crowd person. I do go to see the oldies and greats, when they come to town, in almost any other venue, including R&R, because by now...hee hee...they're MY age... We "older" crowds tend to be a bit more courteous...until the music takes us back to being 18 again...and then we get a bit boisterous... My own SO doesn't like it when I get too boisterous. I have this voice that "carries", he says...quite possibly all the way to the ear of the entertainer. I think I've heard worse, but that's not the point. And what fun is going, if you can't enjoy yourself, and let the entertainer know he or she is putting on a great show? Lately I've been going to more community theater shows, though. Now, I have to admit to being a wee bit prejudiced, because I'm sure that there is just as much if not more talent in other towns our size, but it sure does seem like we have our share of GOOD talent here in the middle of everything. [You think He puts 'em all in a bag and shakes 'em out through a little opening and they just happen to land here? LOL...I do...] So now I get season tickets for each year, whether I can afford them or not. "What makes you think I want to see all of 'em?" *shrug* We scratch off musicals automatically and I call my girlfriends or my daughter if she is in town. Or my oldest granddaughter...it doesn't matter. One of the two of us is going to have fun. And somehow, the community theater has yet to let me down. I always come away impressed, and pleased, with their performances, whether it's first night, middle of the week run, or the last show... and I don't care that I have to go "all the way down there" for my front-row-center seats...at least I don't have anyone in front of me snapping gum and/or fidgeting in their seat in front of me. I get in to the play, all the way. And if the crew is being interactive? All the more fun!! The last play I saw was this last Saturday in Dodge City - certainly not my neck of the woods, but still flavored with great Kansas actors. I knew it was to be a comedy, but I've known comedies to slack off a bit in the humor department to build up again. Well, not this play. It kept the humor high from beginning to end. In fact, we even conjectured that there was a bit of, ahm, wardrobe malfunction in "Not Now, Darling". As this was the last show of their season, several of us are pretty sure there was a little hanky panky with the costumes, and if not, some sort of "message" during one of the "flashings" of a supposedly naked girl wrapped up in a fur coat. We thought that, because the intended victim of the "flashing" totally lost his next line...and it was the classical bloopers of the season! Everyone seemed to be in on the joke but him. A real trooper, he finally regained his lines, and added a bit of extemporaneous thought. It was, indeed, a wonderful night. Celebrate the arts...go see a play! |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Karen- I TRIED to let this one go... howevr anything bringing around a concert story deserves a reply. lol Probably the strangest concert story I have is the night I took a potential girlfriend to see Styx/REO/April Wine... This girl was a bit younger than I (I was 34 and she was 25) and had, as of yet not "indulged". I actually really liked her, and wanted a semi-long term thing, and figured that this was the night that everything would come together. I was figuring that between "Just Between You And Me", "Babe", The Best Of Times", and all of the REO love songs, this night was shoe-in (if my all too immoral meaning is understood). Well, things were going great... The April Wine show was decent enough, and we moved to holding hands. Styx was almost as good as they were with the original members (Dennis and Frank were gone, and Chuck was dead), and with the love songs we had our arms around each other, and I was feeling the end of the night was guaranteed... During REO we started on the occasional lip lock, and I knew it was all over except the undressing.... UNTIL....... REO played one of their biggest hits ,"I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore". At this point, she melted into a puddle of tears and emotion because that was "their song" for her and her ex-fiance, who's wedding would have been the week before. Something about going from 60 to 0 in a split second comes to mind. I immediately backed into supportive mode, and became the death knell for any budding relationship... the "friend". She came around, stopped crying, and began with then actions taht I was hoping for just a few minutes earlier, however, I realized that she was wanting- and attempting- one last thing with her ex, and I wasn't having it... She was willing to give up the one last thing she had to give NOT because she wanted to be with me, rather because she wanted to be with HIM. So I (and I STILL can't believe I did it) backed off and told her "no". We eventually did start dating, although we never "got together"... The BEST part of the story (and the only good part) was that she told all of her friends, and THEY thanked me... however that is a story for another thread. I AM smiling... And tht fact should be enough to cause you to worry. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Thread away, Ringo...you have all the makings of a comfortable quilt to warm us well...pull the pieces together, man... tell the story. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Ringo? Consider this a lighter held up high, as I yell, "More..." (you sweet thang you--sheesh) this is priceless. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Yes, Ringo that was such a sweet thing to do. I'll bet you make a great friend. Loved your story about the concert Karen. I keep thinking about that woman(?) who bought you the drinks... I don't know why..just kinda..strange, yanno? I also have this thing about being in the middle of a crowd too. Don't really care for it. Don't mind standing on the edge and people watching..love that. Just don't like to be squashed in the middle of a screaming crowd where I can only breathe the sweaty armpits of someone I don't even know. (I'm short too, usually only come up to that part of the male anatomy.) Strange thing is, I don't recall having stage fright. Perhaps being on stage is like being separated from the crowd and if I got that claustrophobic feeling I knew I could always exit..stage right.  (Sorta leave 'em wonderin' where the magician disappeared to! Ha!!) |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Ringo..... |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
I thank you all for the kind thoughts and the nice words... however you can be sure I don't let THAT happen again. lol I AM smiling... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Now, Ringo, I was just fixing to give you a hug, and you had to go and say that!! But, here's one for being honest, anyway.... LOL |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
Hey... It's me again. I just decided I'd say that I'm still here. I'm sort of lonely, and I miss the lot of you, so I figured I'd say hi. I was going to whine for three paragraphs, but I changed my mind. Whining is decidedly unattractive. Anyway, hi, I love you all, and I'm here, whether or not I happen to be saying much. Young as I am, I haven't really got any good stories to tell, so I can just listen. Night all. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Kielo - that's where I got my best stories...from listening! Welcome back! |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Who cares if you have any "good" stories... they're stories, and we might like them... Share away!!!! I AM smiling... |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
It's against my better nature to tell stories that do nothing but make the hearer say, "Oh. That's really depressing." I'll just listen. |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Actually, Nancy, being on stage is an entirely different world... there is NO claustrophobia on stage... absolute terror ,yes. Claustrophobia, no. lol I AM smiling... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Hey Ringo...glad you understand what I mean! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
I understand some, too, about the being on stage. What seemed odd to me was that when I would sing in front of a very large crowd, I was less nervous than in front of just a few. And, when there was jusr a few, it was usually people we knew. I wonder why that was? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
With a bigger crowd, chances are, they don't really know us? Small, intimate groups give us a chance to receive feedback - which sometimes we may not want. Larger groups could tend to ignore us - but we may never know. I don't know. When I'm reading in front of the TV camera, and I cannot see the people operating it behind the lights, I feel almost alone, talking to a black box. Kind of like putting my poetry here for display. I won't see those who click in, and out again, because they don't like it. I will only see the ones who leave a word or two behind, and in their wake, I will glide on their good intentions. When I want apples and tomatoes, though, I know to go to Critical Analysis. Actually, I don't get much thrown at me, other than good, solid, sincere assistance. So that place becomes a haven, too. I do know that the smaller the crowd, the more nervous I become. And a very intimate grouping of three or four, especially if they are good friends, really puts me on edge. I guess because I think they are being put into a position they would rather not be; or, that this is their opportunity to judge me. I don't know. I guess if we didn't have some kind of stage fright, we wouldn't be putting forth what we perceive for ourselves, as our best. |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
I am exactly the same way with my audiences... If I have close personal friends in attendance, I get severely nervous during the show, where as normally, the jitters are gone as soon as the lights come on and the first chord goes out. If there are musicians (or writers with my scribbling) in the audience, then that tends to make the jitters even worse, because they KNOW, and can spot all of my scrwe ups, and all of my "not so good". I AM smiling... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
The Friday morning was an average "let's start the week out on Monday" type day, with everything from Monday through Friday due by the end of the day.... At 11:10 a.m., CST, our lights started to flicker in the office. Everyone held their breath. Over five minutes, we experienced three brown-out type surges. And then, by 11:20...all was dark. So started my afternoon. Pur resident computer/printer/phones/scanners, etc., person, was on vacation. Guess who her back-up is? You got it. And because EVERYTHING listed in this paragraph is connected from one thing to another, ALL was "down". The girls up front called KPL on a cell phone, and were promised that a repair truck would be there, "soon". I went to lunch at 11:35. I came back at 12:15. We were still "out" but about 12:20, in pulls the KPL truck. Good. They reported that our own transformer had blown a "switch", and it would take, oh, about 15 minutes to repair same. Good. Wonderful. We went around turning everything "off" so we could come back up "slow". The KPL guys had us reconnected in about 10 minutes. And that was the good news. Our computers didn't want to come up. The password I knew and use to reboot the server didn't want to "take". So I went on a search and was calling our computer experts simultaneously. Without the servers, nothing worked. Finally [after three trips up and down stairs] I found the right password, and rebooted the server. Then we discovered that "not all" the phones were working. Called the phone service company - was told where to go, what to do, how to do it, etc. So...back down stairs. The phones came up slowly. About that time, we discovered that the printers weren't talking to the computers. Another call. Then the scanner wasn't talking to anything. Of course, there was a huge project to be scanned and sent to the Federal Courts TODAY...[the guys always wait till the last minute, y'know?] So that girl was patiently waiting for me to take all incoming calls regarding the problems while making outgoing calls to correct other problems. So we got the scanner/printer guy to come in and before he got there, we managed to reconnect a couple of printers by doing some secondary trouble-shooting. Then the scanner guy fixer-upper finally got that problem fixed, and by 4:25, the federal courts project was completed successfully. Now inbetween all of this, the printer I normally use was kaput, so I had to change to a back printer that was working to get the "has to be done for tomorrow's client" project done for My Initial Boss. Then my former boss, now a Supreme Court Justice, called. LOL...what a day. His secretary was out, and he wanted to know if I could guide him on how to redline a document without losing the original document. And not in Word [what I'm familiar with] but WordPerfect, no less. So I called a source who knew a source who passed me on to a third person...and I got the instructions, called the Judge back, and saved his day. We hope. Now, My Secondary Boss dumped four tapes on my desk this morning!!! and I asked him "priority, please..." and he kindly put them all in order. Then, he said "now, if you can't get to these today, don't worry. Monday will be fine." THANK GOD!!!!!!! My Initial Boss got his estate documents done; all machines were up and working, most projects had been completed, and I left the office at 4:28. How Was Your Day??? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
heh? What day? I just woke up a couple of hours ago. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Karen? Heeheee! You make me laugh till the mascara runs down my cheeks. Karilea? Come here. Ringo? I know exactly what you mean. |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Sunshine, the ONLY thing I don't like about your description of your day (other than the fact that it was a PITA) is taht now, I can't complain about mine... It was a dream compared to yours. *Sending monster hugs to ease the pain*... and a fifth of whatever you're drinking. I also ofer this to you to give you a much needed smile. http://www.emule.com/poetry/?page=poem&poem=3653 I AM smiling... And tht fact should be enough to cause you to worry. [This message has been edited by Ringo (05-07-2004 10:24 PM).] |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
I came in here now, just to sit quietly... Because... I miss my Mom. |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
Sending Warm hugs out, Nancy... I'll keep you in my thoughts tonight and hope for you to be happy again. I AM smiling... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Nancy Lee? Sometimes when I write of my memories it's like re-living the moment. Remember that movie Mask (the one with Cher)? I liked the part how she had helped her son cope with the pain of his disease by remembering the happier moments in life. Maybe when you're up to it, you could share? If not, I understand that too. Hugs, dear friend. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
OH. and if it helps to put a smile on your face, I'll confess that I was just humiliated by a blue jay. I walked to the store for a lottery ticket, a quart of beer and a dream, and this lunatic bird took me for the enemy along the way. There I was running, swatting, and ducking--much to the amusement of those gas guzzlin' passers by... sigh. WHATIZZIT with me and animals? shaking my head here and my beer foamed up too. pouts and |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Thanks guys...hugs do help. And Ser? There is so much to share..so much. But not tonight..maybe tomorrow. I will say she had the most beautiful smile and personality you've ever seen. ...and 46 was awfully young to have to leave. I came running back in quickly after that last line I posted, cause I saw Karen's post and almost spit out my drink. Karen...you have this way of making me want to 'gleeee' right in the middle of being sad!! Gawd you're adorable.. Love ya lady. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Love you right back. *hard hug squeeze* check your e mail lady... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ringo...what a link! Thanks! We're all pitching in to purchase a ball and chain for the regular person who has to take care of all that "stuff"...and we're not letting her take any more vacation days on days that end on a Y... Enchantress, hugs back baby...  I know...Even 60 is too young...Serenity, the only robins that nested this year nested on the back porch in the ivy covered trellis. And apparently they didn't appreciate our admiration of them. I even have a photo of one of them coming straight at me. We've been buzz-bombed for over a month now, and thankfully, the babies have hatched and grown enough so we can finally get to the trash without taking the garden hose with us... Back to you, NancyLee...I wanted to post one of my poems about Mom this year, and for some reason, haven't been able to do it. Not sure why. Lots of strange feelings lately...lots of dreams, too. [Serenity...you were going to send me an e-mail? hint hint...] Yep, lots of thoughts, lots of feelings. But I'm looking for one of those good stories to come from you, soon, because I know your Mom would have wanted both you, and Chris, to share her smile with us. OK? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
YIKES!!! *smacking my head* Sorry about that chief. I'm just recovering from the hubby's days off--I'm beat too. But... the walls have been primed, and are ready for my "timescape" paint, and? I even got him to agree on opening the kitchen with a service window/breakfast counter!!! I'll be with you soon, Kari. (That what you asked couldn't be answered with a dash off note, so I waited, and wise lady you are for reminding me too! ) |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Kari? Um....you wouldn't happen to have a copy of that e mail, wouldja? You know it. I lost it. I'm so bad... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
sigh. Nevermind. I found it. (see what my life has been like lately?) geez. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
now. Kari? You can check your e mail too. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
wrong addy, honey....can you resend home? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
it's really not my day, is it? ouch. grin. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Thanks, sweetie! You may just get that "personal" touch, someday! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Kari? Um, when termites swarm inside of your house, is that a bad day, a really bad day, or just the icing on the cake of an expletivie day? (serenity exits, still swatting flying objects...) |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
OH man... sigh. Now, in case you're wondering, to remove a swarm of termites from the inside of your house, first, turn off all the lights inside of your house. Then, turn on all the lights outside of your house. Open the doors. (duh)Be patient. hmmm... tap tap, swat, expletive, tap, swat... sigh. Yep. Be patient. and ew. Don't forget to cover your drinks. *shudder* |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Karen...you are so right..we carry them inside. Thank you so much. Have a Happy Mom's Day! You too Kari! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Karen, I know one thing if I ever did visit there, I would be wearing one of those white bug suits. Good gravy, first you tell me cockroaches fly, and now you say there are flying termites? I swear I scream at anyone moving that is not human, and bugs and spiders are the worst! Maybe you should let the mice back in? Do they eat those things? Happy Mother's Day to some great Mothers in Passions. I can not even begin to tell you how grateful I am to be spending part of Mother's Day with my son and his family and that he is still here to spend it with me. We went to see Diana Krall last night (yanno a Mother/Son date thing) and it was great! Okay I know I am way behind you guys and you are all in bed, but at least I am first to wish you all Happy Mother's Day, and Nancy Lee, a special one for you lady! |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
wishing all of you a Happy Mother's Day... This last week and a half, my brother and I have had to devise a way to get our Mother here to spend her last Mother's Day with my sister. It has been one of the hardest times I have ever had to go through...she not wanting to come until my sister was bedridden... and close to death. I spent a few days in bed myself just trying to console myself that I would be the one to tell my sister this and the only sibling near enough to deal with all that comes with the ending of a life. I can be strong when pushed but this is even harder than the impending divorce I never counted on...that is dragging on and on and on until I can get financially on my feet again. So I managed to get some interviews for teaching and a summer job accomplished before my car decided to call it quits, too. I thought to myself...how much more can go wrong, to make things that much more frustrating and wearing on me. My oldest brother called me a week and a half ago, after I mentioned to my Mother about spending almost $1000 on my car only to still feel like I was riding a bucking bronco down the highways. He and my sister suggested finding me a newer car...perfect timing and a good excuse for him to drive 500 miles here, pick me up and take me back to Tennessee in it. Then to have me drive my Mother back up here with me to be here for this past week. So today we will be sharing my sister's last Mother's Day and Marcia and I both have felt a relief that my Mother is here to be with her now, instead of...then. I don't know if I am making myself clear or not... because I am sure today will also be a hard day for Marcia, being surrounded by all her children and grandchild... probably together for the last time. M |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Maureen... I know baby...I know. You just don't realize how strong you really are...and how grateful your sister for all that you do.NancyLee, Chris... Serenity, for you, I'll ask Kit for a smilie swatting at bugs... and for all of the ladies out there...Happy Mother's Day.... |
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scorpio Member Ascendant
since 2002-10-02
Posts 5178right...there |
Tinker... believe in what your heart feels... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Maureen: May I say, that today can be the most glorious day if you all participate to the fullest and make it that way. Maureen, you are being a rock right now, and your time to puddle will indeed come, but for today, you are the "activities director" and I might suggest to you to drum up some wonderfully FUNNY memories. I think I have had almost too much experience in saying goodbyes, and the best part of all of it was the celebration of their life towards the end I shared with them, and then rewinding that tape after they were gone. I am sure you don't need someone telling you how to survive these days, as it seems we all go into auto-pilot, but I wanted to you to know I read all you write of your experience with your family, and think you are doing an incredible job. Life has this way of preparing us for just about anything, the trick is realizing our part in it, and performing May you and your family share a very wonderful day filled with memories, tons of laughter, and lots of love. To all you Moms, Grandmothers, and mostly to those wonderful women who through adopted forfeit children to make us the Mother and Grandmother - I wish you continued strength to hold down your job description LOL |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Being it Mother's Day, I had to come into Passions and this wonderful thread of Karen's to wish every mothering soul out there a joyous day. As I was remembering my mom today as everyday, a memory came forth which I will call, "A Scattering of Seeds." Jump back to 1965, a time when the word cancer literally hit home in an ugly way....at least ... cancer tried it's best to be ugly. Our mother would not let it. Even though she had lost her left breast to the disease. In those days you had to travel from Canada to the United States to find a "breast form" to place inside of your bra. While you waited for one to be measured and made, you had to make do with whatever. Leave it to our grandmother, so used to sewing things, to come up with a temporary solution. It did help my sweet mother out as she was always conscious of her appearance whether on stage, working in the gift shop, or just at home making my father grin. Visiting the shop one day, I waited at the glass counter fiddling with the latest "hippy-style" earrings and bracelets till I could hear the clicking of my mom's high heeled shoes coming towards me. She walked with quick, light steps, always, always in darling sized 5 pumps. Even her slippers had to have a slight heel to them....wedgies she called them..lol. Anyway, this day, along with the clicking of her heels came another sound....a tick .. tick..ticking...strange. I asked my mother whose hypnotic scent arrived before her, "what's that funny sound mum?" She winked at me and said, "it's my breast." My eyes got big and I almost shouted, "What?!!" LOL. She bent forward and whispered the explanation...ladylike as always. Seems the "breast form" that my grandmother had invented for her was actually a cloth pocket filled with...... bird seed !! Yes, I know.....awfully crude, but it worked. That is till that day, the day it got a tiny hole in it. So each time mom took a few steps...tick...tick....tickle tickle...she left a scattering of seeds. Sort of like Hanzel & Gretel. "Whatever are you going to do?" I asked feeling so badly for her. "Nothing to do." she smiled. "If I don't hurry or jump up and down....I should be fine till closing." She smiled again, held her head high and greeted an entering customer with the warmth and serenity of someone at peace with the world. Whenever I am feeling down on myself because I have gained a few pounds, or am having a bad hair day - whatever, I think of that day in the shop with mum. She had an amazing outlook on life - she treasured each and every second of it. We in turn treasured her. Take care all. Hugs, Chrislane |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Chris, I think this has been the best gift I've received all day...even if you didn't give us a hanky alert. God bless you and your sister, gal... and to all of the women who give of themselves...that very act alone is called "mothering"... |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Chris...thank you for the smiles and laughter you allowed me with the memories of the scattering seeds...and what a delightful personality your mother had... I hope your day was a wonderful one...mine was~ ~ except that my Mother forgot she is going to be 80 next month and tried to skip rope for her 9 year old great granddaughter...and well...she skipped with one foot and went down with the other...not remembering she barely climbs stairs, so her knees aren't use to the pressure...but she was fine needing help in getting up only...and I know she won't try that one again. Hugs to all M |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Thankyou for reading Karilea. You're a sweet lady indeed. Maureen, how lucky you are to have your mother still with you....and trying to skip rope as well!! Bless her heart. Your sister is still in my prayers as are you. I am happy that I helped you smile today. hugs! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I can't sleep again... I think too much I think. I saw my mother today--well? today was mother's day, so of course I went to see my mom. "Mom" Now therein lies a word of connotation. "Mom" and faux frowned cotton candy, and a hard face cloth to keep it clean. (Remember how they wiped too rough--and shudder now, remembering--she almost succeeded in wiping the smile off of my face.) I got good at undertables. I would hide there, and count my breath easy, praying I wouldn't be detected, (and thus sent back to the land of the sibling.) I would hide there, beneath the table, watching my mother's nervous jig of leg as she played cards, sometimes so fast I was amazed, and I imagined her leg as a moth in toss of the Amazon, rare and beautiful, and the very speed of that bouncing knee I likened to the wings of imagery. I always knew when my mother was bluffing. Her voice was pitched but casual - her manner too offhand in times of stress. She never could play poker to her own advantage, but should someone else suggest "Bouret"? Now that was mamma's game. Dealer's choice, and when she heard, "Bouret" she would pound the table in glee. It always startled me - explosions and the tremoring - but I learned a silent stoicism. I knew my situation was tenuous, and I had no desire of discovery and the resulting eviction. So I withstood the table pounding, watching the legs shiver as I gathered myself in the center, noting the ripplings of the pressboard, praying I was safer there, huddled just beneath the pot. I was just a child, of course, but somehow, as I look back on things, I think I had better instincts then. I made a happy home for myself there, protected by the legs of the card-playing neighbors--keeping mental notes of disparities. (Greta Shwartz wore panty hose that bagged at the ankles and her feet smelled funny. Mr. Shwartz wore loafers with dimes in them, and I dreamed of piracy at times.) Quietly, of course. But then they called for a game of "Bouret", and I watched my mother's knees dance happy then--pressed together swaying, and I heard her humming along with the stereo, reaching for Patsy Cline in whine as she reached for cards in deal to complete what I understood beneath, was dealt the perfect hand. I heard the flipping of the cards in a rare moment of quiet. Silence, as all awaited the announcement of what would be trump as I sat below, curious, wishing I had eyes to see... "Spades it is..." the dealer sang. I heard a collective groan, and then, I understood he had the ace. I understood because I heard my mother laughing, but kinda pissed. "You got my card!" she laughed at him. "Just look at this!" She tossed her royal hand into the pot, face up, revealing she had won the round--the King held court with all attendees, and my I thought I saw the knees of my mother blush. They all laughed good naturedly, and pushed the mound of change toward her (with not a few dollar bills) conceding that round of play. I remember smiling up at the tabletop, listening to the change scrape happy noise, smiling wide to the happy voice of my mother, sounding feminine and strange to my ear as she purred, "drinks are on me boys..." Wow. She sounded sexy. I held my mouth tight to stop the outright giggle, amazed that I had heard so much and lived. Then I heard felt my mother's hand, ruffling my hair as she cooed: "Time for bed, babygirl." * * * Mothers always know. * * * She kissed me sweet, I remember. So I went to bed, half daze dancing in the child sleepiness of love, and a mamma who had won "a pot" of pretties, cooing, "I love you." * * * Happy Mother's Day. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh yes...the quiet corners, little people, and big ears.... I have my own, as well. You just tell of them, so much better. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
*nodding here* we listened & we held our breath....in fear sometimes, in awe and amazement at other times. I suppose that might be why I chose the location that I did to place below my pen name Nightshade. Dear Karen, do you realize the strength and love you offer us with each click of the keys? Hugs! |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
I, like many others(I'm sure) -- have been reading this quietly from between the lines...and would just like to say we learn & grow from your sharing and the reflections of ourselves we see in the words. thank you for that girlies and groovy guys. And I have to say also...it comes as no surprise to me that it would be Sens home that so many feel warm and safe in... so much heart and honesty... so much strength...and she throws a great party...even the bugs want to join in. Love ya KA |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
I'm still awake, too...can't sleep tonight for some reason. I missed you all and had to read here tonight. You all are such amazing people, with strengths that you don't even know that you have. Reading you all gives me strength. I couldn't come in here yesterday......I had a good day with my Mother, but I didn't hear from my daughter all day. That hurt. But she called me today and we talked and laughed for a very long time....about an hour probably......but, we still don't talk about anything that might hurt the other one.......... |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Ethel I know...my oldest didn't call me, and still hasn't...He is the only one of my three children that has picked up his fathers nasty habits and if I allow myself to think about it...it kills me inside... "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
This is me... still reading along when I can... and hugging you all for the beautiful and heartfelt stories... Karen?... Your story about hiding under the table during the card game brought back memories of how much I used to love watching my parents play cards... They used to play with my aunt and uncle a lot...sometimes at our house, but usually at their house. They have 4 kids, all younger than my brother and I, so I'm guessing it was probably easier for them to not have to haul them all to our house... Anyway... many a saturday night, my parents would load us up and we'd go to see the cousins... I was the oldest of all the cousins, and I think, even then, I had the tendency to 'mother'... We all enjoyed one another and got along great, but I never bonded with the ones that were closer to my age, like I did with the youngest... To this day, we have a standing 'joke' about her being my 'favorite cousin'... Of course, though we say it 'tongue in cheek', we both know there is much truth to it...smile... but that's a whole different story... Anyway... while the cousins played 'kid games', the grown-ups played cards... and I recall that most times I would get bored with playing...probably after the youngest kids went to bed... and I would just sit quietly and watch... Mom and dad would try to convince me to go play with the kids... but, for some reason, I never quite felt like I 'fit in'... I guess I wasn't good with 'groups' even then... My parents never understood why I would rather be with them, than with my cousins, but eventually they would give up their coaxing and allow me to sit there, in my 'grown-up' folding chair, at the 'grown-up' card table... a little further back from the table than them, of course, so I wasn't 'interfering'... and oh...I had to be quiet... this was cards... it was 'serious'... So, I'd sit silently, for hours...'hiding', in a sense...because as long as they didn't 'see' me, I'd be allowed to stay... So I'd just watch...and listen...and in the process, I learned how to play Rook... that was their game. They always had such a good time...even when things turned 'competitive', which they often did, they still always ended up laughing at and with one another... and I found myself wanting to be a part of that...wanting to 'belong' there... I guess that was some of my early training in 'people watching' and 'listening'... and, of course, in the fine art of being quiet... I got very good at being quiet... but somehow that was okay. I didn't 'need' to talk. As long as I could 'hear', then I felt like I was 'a part' of their world... This is sparking some other childhood memories, but I'll save those for another time... For now?... thank you, Karen, for 'reminding' me... smile... and for creating this thread...this 'family'... where, if I choose, I can just 'be quiet'... and still feel as if I 'belong'... Love you, lady... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hey ya'll. I'm just popping in to say howdy--things have been a bit wet down here in N'awlins, but so far, we're still among the lucky ones. We didn't get water in the house--yet. (more storms are a comin') but our power was restored a while ago, so I thought I'd take advantage of that and pop in to let ya'll know I'm fine. Shrug. Maybe some of the bugs will drown. Now ya'll know why people in N'awlins drink so much, huh? *gigglesigh* Love ya'll bunches. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
So they can add to the water??? |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
 The best kind of bug is definitely a drowned bug!Oh and by the way, Mz. Serenity told me today about a very strange happening during one of her N'Awlins floods, and I doubt I am going to sleep tonight. It seems that they don't bury people below ground there, and all I can think of since we spoke is her telling me about "pop up coffins!" I swear she tells me these things to keep me awake so she has someone to talk to all night. Flying cockroaches was one thing, then we hear of flying termites, but sheesh ~ floating coffins is quite another matter. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Mr. Gibbs, our dear friend, passed away today. I was going to say how sorry I was to have to tell ya'll that, but the truth is, there comes a point of suffering where our prayers change to suit the comfort of the dying--or is that a rationalization of the living...? I honestly don't know. But prayers do change with circumstances. But he did indeed "pass over" today, at about three in the afternoon. And call it weird, call it drama, call it whatever you like, but I was indeed listening to Hank Williams at that time, thinking about our dances and songs with a smile on my face... I was singing to him, "blue eyes cryin'" in tribute to all of this rain we've had lately, smiling to myself in a rare moment alone with my stereo. * * * Mr. Gibbs lived a simple life of sliced Americana--he loved, he lusted, sang, fished, built ships, and buried sons. He danced in his kitchen, he flirted outrageously, and adored his wife. and he loved Hank Williams, titties and beer. * * * Rest in peace my lovely friend. You carved a niche for yourself in my heart and I can never, ever, hear 'that lonesome whistle blow' without thinking of you. Godspeed. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Karen?... ... love you, lady...God bless Mr. Gibbs... May he rest in peace... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
One thing I know... he was loved well by one serenity... God bless you, Mr. Gibbs. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ah, dear Karen....Mr.Gibbs is sure to love God's choir as much as he treasured listening to your precious voice. Thankyou for sharing the adoration you had for each other ... forever and for always. God speed Mr.Gibbs. hugs through tears, Chrislane |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
This has been a hard, hard week. I cried so much this past week, that I was accused of witchiness yet again, and told that I had created the storms without that matched the tirade within. I lost Mr. Gibbs this week, but yanno? I had lost him long ago and I knew that, already, before I'd heard of the time of his actual death. That disease that killed his mind, killed the comradery between us long ago. I felt him slip away months before, when he would ask me at his kitchen table, if he could buy me a drink. The first two times he'd done that, I'd laughed and played along--the third time, though, I saw his eyes, and realized he was in earnest, and didn't know me. The drinks were on me then. I've been playing hopskotch with death all week. Southern Louisiana was hit with storm after storm, flooding the same by-ways every time, as if the sky raised mocking fists of accusations--"How long will you endure?" sandbag dullard thoughts replied: "As long as YOU." * * * I brought my brother's ashes home. I had always thought his place was with me. I have his books, afterall, and I have taken care of him since I was a child, understanding that the grown man in him was defenseless to the insensitivies of the world. I understood. Leave him alone. He was called, "The Gentle Giant," or "Brutus", depending upon whom was calling. Once I saw him, catch a lizard, by pressing his giant thumb upon the lizard's tail. The tail broke, and actually sparked a bite of blood, as the stumpy reptile ran away. My big brother cried--he cried, and turned to me asking "why--why does this always happen to me? I didn't mean to hurt the little guy..." He just wanted to hold him. * * * So I felt I had to ask. This is a strange and difficult proposition, to ask your mother, for the property of your brother's ashes, but I had to have him, here, with his books. My brother breathed books...he ached knowledge in his eyes, and the only demanding bit of him was the frustration of anyone's refusal to think--then he could be temperment and spark volcanoes---yes, just like a witch. * * * So I did what anyone would do. I told my sisters of my wishes first. They filtered my request down to the queen mum gracefully, and I was allowed the dispensation of my brother's body. Y'see, I had this urn... but no, that never quite worked out. (we'll spare you the dusty details, but it's true...) But I'd had this box that my brother loved. He'd taken the hardware brass hinges off, and sanded it so lovingly.... I knew that is where he was meant to be. The ashes of him fit perfectly. He's here, with me, atop his books, The Complete Encyclopedia of Biblical Knowledge, sandwiched by the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire, with one white votive burning his memory. OH. And a little sister who types strange stuff on the internet. (He'd have loved this stuff...) Welcome home, Keith. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Karen?... ...Keith is, indeed, home now... and, no doubt, smiling at you... Love you, K... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ashes & Books. Somehow, someway, Keith just handed you a title. He knew you would know what to do with it. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
giggle... my brother has had a few fires before this last one, and I suggest to you that if you heard ashes AND books? you've got a sprinkler system. sigh. One year, soon after his term in Huntsville State Pen, he came home so emotionally devastated, that all we could do is offer him a room. He did re-build after doing his time there, but all that he built, he lost in a house fire. Including, and most especially, his beloved dog, Rosie. He borrowed a shovel from a fireman to bury her. and yes, Keith is on my mind...sigh... hugs sunshine |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
He'd say stuff like that, when people were apt to whining. "I borrowed a shovel to bury my dog." yep. You'd think that would end the conversation but he would pause, and heave a breath and continue, "yep. I borrowed a shovel from the fireman who was pissing on the coals of my life." silence....then? "hell...he wasn't usin' it." My brother had always resented not being born a TEXAN. I think he more than made up for it. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Karen, I'm sorry about Mr. Gibbs....... it sounds like he was a normal guy, by what he loved...... especially the titties part... And, I'm so glad that your Mother agreed to your bringing your brother "home". It sounds as though he would like being around his little sister. I love you all..... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I've been thinking along those lines myself...not being born a Texan...but then, I seem to be in a state of flux, myself. My mother was "deathly" afraid of fire. She feared she would lose her life in a fire. I never got to find out the why of her fear, just that she had it. Never did understand, later, why she chose to be cremated.... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen...you are more precious than you will ever know. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Thanks... I've been thinking about this journal a bit, and wondering if it's a bit arrogant of me to presume that anyone would be interested in my meanderings. I realized though, that it takes a bit of arrogance to be a writer, and although "writer" is not the only thing I've ever aspired to become, it is the most consistent. I have grown fond of saying that like "Scout", from To Kill A Mockingbird, I was born reading. It sure seems that way. I belonged to a book club since I was three--and that was a luxury my parents really couldn't afford. It was a gift my mother gave to me, and it was a gift of comradery. To this day, her bedroom is a cozy mess of paperbacks and notebooks - a small mountain of testimony to her love of the written word. Smile. Okay. Now that was flowery. I can't read that "garbage" my mother reads. *chuckle* She's into detective stories and thrillers, and I try, I truly do, to read her weekly offerings: "This one is really good!" grins and a shake of head here... Then I try, and find myself outlining the plot in my head, trying to turn the page that seems suddenly heavy without tossing it against the wall while screaming inwardly (and tsk...sometimes OUTWARDLY) "PREDICTABLE!!!" sheesh. (I was once threatened with eviction from the student library at the University of New Orleans for book-tossing.) *wince* Perhaps I should have taken that suggested seminar in anger management. But anyhoo, I was worried that I was boring people with my journal. Then I realized that reading is a choice. So feel free to toss this thread at will, good poets. If I've learned nothing else in life, I know how to duck. * * * I'm morosely preoccupied with death these days. I went to the "wake" of Mr. Gibbs tonight, and no, I'm not exactly all weepy. I am regretful tho, that his last birthday, I was too ill to go sing happy birthday to him as per his request. I knew it would be his last party too--and I tried, but when I stood, the floor swept up to confuse me and I honestly didn't know which end up was up. "Tell him I'm sorry..." I told his daughter, and I stayed home on couch patrol, frustrated with myself that I couldn't RAGE myself well. I was seriously ill those months, and that is an extremely lonely place to be. I didn't have a lot of help, but to be fair, I am a horrible patient, and I can make "helping" me damned near impossible. My sister compared me to a dog when I'm ill, in that I am more apt to go crawl under the house to die than I am to go weeping to a doctor. "I'm fine." Dammit. "REALLY." But as I type, I've a pork roast marinating, which I'll bring to the family tomorrow evening. My husband saw it and said, "oh boy". sigh. I guess I'll bake two. He's a stingy sort, and doesn't understand the niceties and mores of custom. He doesn't understand I have a need do to this sort of thing, either. He calls me stupid for doing stuff like that. He'll be looking for that roast for dinner. I'll just have to fake him out with a substitute, huh? *wink* He's always been a jerk like that, but now he is a SICK jerk. He's scared too. "Quit drinking or die." That is what the doc told him. So he quit drinking. The biopsy on his liver did not detect cancer, but did show a level 3 stage of cirrhosis (sp.?) of the liver. That was on a scale of 1-4. He now faces 48 weeks of self injection of interferon. There's an apt irony that the treatment for Hepatitis C involves self injection, doncha think? Self injection, and more than a little bit of pain. The very thing we both fled through self-medication all of these years, we're now supposed to administer to ourselves. Karma is a bitch. * * * Yet in the spirit of honesty in which I started this journal, I feel like I need to confess my total resentment. Now, now he needs me. And yes, there is the part of Karen that wants to be able to do this joyfully, and with a good heart, but there is also the me that he left on the couch to die alone. This man stood over me and said, "I know you're dying." Then he walked out of the door. And I wish, I really wish I could forget that he did that. And I can't. And the fact that I can't makes me feel ugly inside--and I wish I knew some way to remove that from me. I never liked me much anyway, but this part of me is just intolerable to look at. It's so much like the parts of him I always condemned. I wish I had a drink. Or ten. * * * I did keep the card of that psychologist though. The edges are worn now from me pulling it out of my wallet, then stuffing it back, hidden behind my library card. It might be a good time to ask for help. * * * I'll think about it. Until then, I have two pork roasts marinating, and I'll cook them up Hawaian style. Tonight? Sleep will be enough. * * * Thanks for listening to me whine... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Karen, you may never forget George leaving you on that couch when you were sick, but because of who you are are, I think you will forgive him. Funny how life turns us around sometimes isn't it? He does need you now, and because I know you as I do, I also know you will be there, until it either makes you or breaks you both. Just as sure as he will be eating a wonderful pork roast tomorrow, you will be there to join him. This journal of yours lets each of us go inside ourselves just a little bit further to get to understand ourselves more did you know that? Through this journal we experience just about every living emotion known to mankind (why isn't it womankind?) well anywho...I am sure there are lots of people just reading along for the ride, and discovering emotions and things about themselves they didn't know before reading. "Scout" is a good nickname for you Mz Serenity, and by the way, that is my all time favorite book, and movie. You scout out words that trigger emotions in every person you try to reach and succeed, so I would say that is quite something to be proud of, and shucks you can sing too Gawd, but I lub ya witch! Hang in there, tomorrow is just another day, as crazy as today.Psst - I loved the story of the little plaque too, only you can make me laugh when I am crying - now that is an art lady. I am glad your brother is "home" where he belongs. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: Sure is. Irks the dickens out of me when I check and don't see any new posts on this thread, from anyone... Irks me when I still feeling like I'm taking over your thread...albeit, "interactive". quote: I know THAT, too... I'll be back. But leaving the hugs here, for you to pick up before you take the roast over...so that you can share mine with yours, with them. |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
I'm always here.. lurking about and reading, I'm sorry I don't leave something to say but most of the time I am left totally speechless and choked up...that's a really really good thing. Luv ya'll. and Karen Maree xx The clouds never expect it when it rains, but the sea, changes colour, but the sea, does not change. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
quoting Sen: "And I wish, I really wish I could forget that he did that. And I can't. And the fact that I can't makes me feel ugly inside--and I wish I knew some way to remove that from me. I never liked me much anyway, but this part of me is just intolerable to look at. It's so much like the parts of him I always condemned. ======================================= I cant not respond to this...I started to by email, but in the spirit of the thread and knowing there are many of us who feel like this...I will talk about it here.... Like so many times before, we mirror KA.... Since my surgery, I have been working thru much of the same feelings, different circumstances, but the emotional realities are the same... You have every right to be angry, disappointed and disgusted...the resentment is an honest and natural reaction to being disregarded by someone who is supposed to be "on our side" In truth, there is nothing "ugly" about that side of you...its actually an inner strength and defense mechanism trying to kick in... you need to draw off of it...find your voice in it... how you accept this part of you will be what defines you from "being like him" All too often as women we wont embrace this part of us...we are taught that we have to be the givers, the caretakers, the mothers, and have be there for every one else, even at the cost of our own being and spirit. Thats fine if we have some resemblance of the same support system backing us up when we need it...but far too often thats not the case..... Forgive me the bitter pill... Im a tired moth....tired of forgiving only to have the same treatment replayed. Tired of giving myself away when there seems to be few who are willing to invest in me, the same way I do for them with out question. The same ones that seem to expect so much of me, arent willing to give me the same respect or support back. I've come to realize there is a fine line between being "faithful and forgiving" and being a door mat... Dedication becomes a curse...they know you will ALWAYS be there...always forgive them, and so it becomes something that is taken for granted...passed over...No effort has to be put into someone who is always there. Constance becomes like an old pair of shoes...like good ole Shep who always comes when you call and forgives the times you kick him when he gets in your way. We need to learn to love ourselves more than we love the people in our lives...we need to love US, as much as we love being "in love." And most of all we need to find the strength and resolve to hold them accountable when they wont give us equal consideration and respect that we give them. Its so damn easy to say the words... living them out is a whole nother matter... Actions speak louder than words... Ya know that Brooks and Dunn song... "you better kiss me...cuz youre gonna miss me when I'm gone." Or not................ either way... theres less of me "here" dont know if this make sense to anyone but mothyme..but I thank you for the place to pour it out. love you guys |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
JM...Amen. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Care taking is hard on the mind, body and spirit. I threw myself headlong into a relationship that I knew in my heart of hearts was going to be difficult if not down right dangerous. There were times when sleep was out of the question, eating made me feel like throwing up, and I just couldn't seem to get the house clean enough....sanitized....exorcised. Demons dwelled here. Demons where there was supposed to be peace and joy. I never, ever thought I would be spending my evenings waiting on the edge of the couch, chain smoking, purse and keys by my side just in case I had to flee. Evenings spent watching over someone whose breathing suddenly slowed...eyes half open..yet not seeing. Emergency rooms and intensive care, were the places I frequented more than grocery stores or WalMart. I wanted to save him. In doing so....lost myself, bit by bit. When he did "see the light" and turn his life around, I helped him regain his self-confidence enough to get his highschool diploma, long overdue. Of course, that meant that now my nights were spent doing his homework. Yes..I did his homework. While I wrote essays etc., wishing it were for my own self as I didn't finish highschool either.....he was sober and having an affair. Ain't life grand?!! Fast forward a few years. Yes lets. I am now married to him. I love him more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. He loves me - he is the one who must live with his shortcomings day after day. There is no need to remind him. Like your George, Karen, he is suffering from past mistakes - physically. As it was said in Legends of the Fall, "he is the rock that they broke themselves against." Do I get weepy? Sometimes. Do I feel anger? Sometimes. Would I change my life and it's experiences? Never. Many of us have to walk through the darkness to experience the light. Sometimes. Hugging all of you tight. Chrislane |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
All of what you said JM made sense.. after reading.. "The same ones that seem to expect so much of me, arent willing to give me the same respect or support back. I've come to realize there is a fine line between being "faithful and forgiving" and being a door mat... Dedication becomes a curse...they know you will ALWAYS be there...always forgive them, and so it becomes something that is taken for granted...passed over...No effort has to be put into someone who is always there." That is when I started to cry. I know exactly what you mean..and when it's our turn to hurt...who's there for 'us'? Karen, I'm glad your brother is home with you..I remember you writing something somewhere when you received his books and I was so pleased for you..but this thread wasn't there then to tell you. I am so happy it's here now, for everyone. I come here often..mostly to sit, read and relax..but lately I'm finding just how much we as women all have in common. Karen? I know I'm not supposed to eat it, but.. may I please have a piece of that pork roast? Love you all so very much. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
"he is the rock that they broke themselves against." ============================== yessssssssss .... exactly ......... *sigh* |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Nancy...didnt mean to make ya cry. heart-hugs to all the girlies for all that you share and that we can learn from one another. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I'll be back in a bit--it's storming here, again, and I'm beginning to believe them that say it's "housewife" tears. Sure has been a lot of 'em this month. I love you ladies. and wow. grin. I'm not as crazy as I thought I was...and now I don't feel as lonely either. Thank you I'll be back between the raindrops. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
And I wish, I really wish I could forget that he did that. And I can't. And the fact that I can't makes me feel ugly inside--and I wish I knew some way to remove that from me. I never liked me much anyway, but this part of me is just intolerable to look at. It's so much like the parts of him I always condemned. Karen, I totally relate to this, too....but the one who made me feel this way is dead. It's lightening here right now, so I have to unplug the computer. So, I can't talk any more about it right now......I might have if not...... I love you people!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"but the one who made me feel this way is dead" Ethel? Both of my sisters were in dysfunctional marriages, and both of their ex-husbands died, fairly nasty deaths too. They'd never resolved their issues, and my oldest sister confessed that her anger was still there, roiling, coloring everything she does to this day, only now it is compounded with guilt. It's certainly been raining enough death here for me to contemplate the possibility of his death, my death, as well as the death of every mortal I know. So naturally, between both of our illnesses, we are thinking about children and trying to wrap up loose ends--just in case. I'm a writer, and I like nice tidy endings. HE, on the other hand, would rather I sit and watch wrestling with him. sigh. (I think I found the limits of long-suffering) and now? I think I have a pork roast to go deliver. I'll betcha I'll have to sing too... But that's okay. One more for Mr. Gibbs. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
One more for Mr. Gibbs. I like that, Karen. Simply because I know there will be a day when you are out in your garden and you'll feel his shadow, and smile. ~*~ I am going to share this here, not only because you ladies and gentlemen are my family, but because I care for you gals and you guy's wives...whether I know them or not. Breast exams. We feel good; fine; no time; kids need things; don't have insurance, whatever. We find excuses not to go. But today's techniques [while still a bit painful] can find the most minute matters. And those matters are our key to a long life, if caught early. This was the first time I went for any exam, that I got the "abnormal" letter. Of course, they send form letters [my first despise] and it is highly obtuse in a clinical sense. They don't tell you if this abnormality is one or the other or both; they do not tell you if it is a shadow, a spot, the black hole....nothing; they simply say if you should choose to follow up on this, the record has been sent to Dr. XXX, and they will be expecting YOUR call. Sigh. I could rewrite their form letters and still fall within all of the new guidelines without stripping hope from a person. So of course, first thing I did this morning was place the call. Second thing I learned was my doctor couldn't find the letter he was supposed to have received and/or the report; and it was probably in this stack somewhere. Now, mind you, the ladies that work for the doctor I see are darn near like family. They were surprised that they didn't know about this before I did. [Must have been a good mail day, hey?] Bottom line...I've nothing to worry about. What was found was a very small, clear and concise spot, yes, but "benign looking" and yes, this will allow me to get another "shot" at it in six months. Hey, I not only can, but WILL do that, willingly. And, I think I'll go ahead and do the obvious, and call my newest acquisition Spot. Seems appropriate, don't you think? Get your exam, ladies. Gentlemen? Don't badger, but please, encourage your wives to get theirs, too. Cysts and such are NORMAL for women my age, and are for the most part, almost ALWAYS benign. So the question that is relieved right now is...I know it ISN'T, but I know it's THERE. So, I'll keep tabs on it, and if the little sucker thinks it's going to grow...and change? It is SO wrong! Take care of you. Because I need you here, with me...sharing. Love you ALL.... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Karilea..thank you for sharing your personal experience. ...hopefully it may make one woman who reads this go for that all important mammogram. Or one of our male pipsters reading here will encourage the woman in his life to go and let the docs do their job and have a 'look see'. Thank YOU..for taking care of YOU! Love ya sweet lady! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
This past Sunday, I went to my neighbor's 80th birthday party. To celebrate, they'd taken over the park behind our houses here on the street where I live, and these folks did it up true cajun style--mounds of steaming crawfish, a sea of icechests filled with beer, the obligatory cajun music and a spirited game of drunken volleyball. I don't even know why I went--I actually spent most of the day hiding inside, granting refuge to the computer addicted teens who tend to find their way to my "techno-friendly" home. But the spirit of the day got to me--even I, "Morticia" decided to brave the bright of day, thinking "eighty years deserves a nod". So I donned my jeans, and an embroidered shirt, my "rosy-reds" (a beloved pair of round red sunglasses) and walked my tired ole hippy ass down there to wish this very spry eighty year old woman a "Happy Birthday." I was surprised to find her inside, donning her own pair of round sunglasses--recent laser treatment on her eyes for macular degeneration dictated that she enjoy her festivities from behind her curtains. She didn't see me walk in, of course, but recognized my voice, and yanno? It was so nice to hear someone was delighted to see me--even if they couldn't see me. "Karen! Come here--I want you to meet somebody!" Smile. It was the first of many introductions I'll never remember. After I made the rounds inside, I strolled out back to the park, where I was immediately given an icy long necked beer, and offered a cardboard tray full of crawfish. I told him, "maybe later" but walked off to find my friend, grateful for the cold beer. She was playing volleyball in a tube top, her stripper-sized tits proudly wagging distraction to the men's team on the other side of the net. I grinned. She may have gone up a size, but inwardly she hadn't changed a bit. She hadn't seen me yet, so I strolled up behind her, interrupting the game by saying wryly, "Yanno? If yer not careful, somebody's gonna spike one of those things..." She yelled, "Karen!" before she even turned around. I either have a distinctive voice or my one-liners have a reputation. We chatted awhile, much to the dismay of her audience, who were eyeing her tube top with anticipation and looking at me annoyed. OH. Grin. I guess not everybody was glad to see me. So I went away. * * * I spied Velma sitting in her yard with her family and walked around through their houses to go visit with her. We'd buried her husband on Tuesday, and Saturday would have been their 54th wedding anniversary, but here she was all stoic, sitting in the sun, and trying to celebrate life anyway. Her family was gathered around her in those plastic lawn chairs, and I heard "Karen!" again as I appeared in their backyard. I admit, all that glee for me felt rather good. I took advantage of my welcome with another beer and a seat. I've known this family since I was seven years old but I swear to you I had trouble telling the brothers apart. The thin one was now fat (and yep, purty drunk) and the one I had known as fat and drunk was now thin, shaky and sober, and obviously medicated, petting an adored terrier which sat devotedly in his lap. "Did you bring your tarot cards?" I shook my head and mouthed "no", smiling. "Where's George?" "Work" was my one-word reply. Velma put her hand on mine knowingly, asking, "How's he feeling Karen?" "Sober." I kept it brief again. "Sober?" The thin shaky guy was Ronald for cryin' out loud. "He quit drinking?" "Yep." I said, before swallowing the beer that was stuck in my own throat. "What happened?" He asked this in wonder now. "The doctor told him, 'Quit drinking or die'--so he quit drinking." He nodded and petted his dog. "That's what they told me." "Hep?" I asked as I thought to myself, that this was way too casual a conversation, but nobody else seemed to blink. "Yep" he replied, grinning at his own rhyme. "They had to take me off the painkillers when I went stage four cirrhosis, so now I'm just on the 'calm-me-downs'." I said nothing, but his fat younger brother offered helpfully, "But you look good bro, your hands especially," We were all quiet as Ronald explained, "I had lesions on my hands, they were ugly--they looked burnt." Oh. His wife looked at him and said, "But they're all better now baby..." He looked down at his shaking hand, and I could see, then, his scars, and his voice sounded strangled as he asked her, not looking at her, "Then why can't I just touch your breast?" Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at me quick to see if my look passed judgement on her. I worried that they had. Then I worried about the karma of that... * * * I waited in the awkward silence then, for an appropriate time to beg my leave. Suddenly the beer tasted bad and the sun was too hot. * * * sigh. All prayers are welcome at this point, good poets, with my gratitude in advance. Sorry I'm not around as much, but I feel like a poison pill of depression these days. This drug, "Interferon" makes sick people sicker before it helps get them well and we are going into this weary, carrying much baggage. Prayers, please... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen, dear lady of witchery....here, hand me some of that baggage. No need to carry it alone. Not when so many of us understand and open our hearts to you. You are loved. Big hugs, Chrislane p.s. prayers are on the wing ~ |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
First things first. KAREN!!! Second. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
ya'll know how to make a witch smile. thank you... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Kari? Yanno? YOU...shaking my head here, with my apologies for not reading before I post. sigh. I canceled my mammogram. sigh. I figured it was just another tedious trial at this point, but... sigh prayers for you, too. and yes'm. I'll re-schedule. While I still have insurance. grin? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Please? For me? Thanks, little one. Because I have plans for us down the road. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Karen...you know you have my prayers. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
taking a moment before going back to bed...to say I have read, Karen and am thinking of you M |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Ya'll are all wonderful. And yes, if you asked me right now, if I really want to go get my breasts flattened, I'd tell ya, "expletive NO", but I guess it's just one of them thangs...or izzat two? Now, somebody? I happen to know that our own dear Martie has the best mammogram story ever--and if someone will convince her to come in here and relate that, I promise I'll tell the story of telling her story to my mother.... sheesh. |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Karen... Prayers and love are on the way. Maree The clouds never expect it when it rains, but the sea, changes colour, but the sea, does not change. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"Then why can't I just touch your breast?" You have to understand, that this man was not a poet, and he was prone to use words in a crude way, and the fact that he had said this, so honestly, so nicely, in broad daylight, with his quivering hands evident to all of us had hit me like a punch in the stomach. * * * He didn't say "tits"--he wasn't crude. * * * He was just a man sitting there, aching. * * * It simply took my breath away. * * * I felt the salt of shock in my mouth and I wanted to scream at her, "for god's sake he's dying, let him touch you" but at the same time? I understood. I wish I had two cigarettes now instead of one--like that would make a difference. * * * Ronald. Damn. Ronald. He was once a strong built man--I remember a time my two hands couldn't encompass his upper arm muscle... he was that fine, that strong. I hadn't clasped my hands around him for vanity, but it was an attempt to contain him--I'd sold him a combo of angeldust and acid and he was having what was known as "powerheaves." In short, the man was "trippin'". BAD * * * I was a teen-aged drug dealer. Now that sounds "light" and altogether too carefree for my taste, but it does aptly describe my lifestyle at aged 19. I think I can honestly describe myself as "cute" then, so my appearance was deceptive, even to the experienced buyer--I was a frigging "gidget" with a methadose. That, in retrospect, made me more dangerous, since I appeared as a thing "benign." I walked into biker dens with sheets of bathtub acid taped to my back, just above my midriff... and I'm embarrassed to admit now that I even bounced my way in there wearing "pig-tails" at times, looking so innocent that I, the damnable dealer was denied entrance. * * * Soon enough remedied. with dollars, too. * * * And now I feel responsible... damn. Damn. DAMN. FEEL responsible? I AM responsible. * * * I wish I had a cigarette, instead of just a half. * * * As if it would make a difference... * * * too late for sorry yes indeed |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
You may have sold, but he bought. He administered. Swallowed. Truth is, the fault/blame is equal. Your remedy...is to talk to her, and convince her to let him, one more time... touch her breast. Join the lines and make the circle. You know how, and I'll be there with you when you do. You know I will. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Kari? Hugs...and thank you. But you do see it, yanno. I know I did... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I see it. and I get it. and while it's not up to me to forgive you for anything... I know someone else has. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Something good happened tonight. Something Very Good. My brother and I had been estranged for a time; it was only recently [by recently I mean in the last 4-5 years] that we have found each other again. Tonight? We started sharing our pasts as we remember them. And it's been good. And it brought this to mind. We all remember things differently. We even see current happenings, differently. I remember not so long ago being with a friend who was driving, and we saw an accident happen. She saw it one way; I saw it another. Doesn't matter who is right. It's all in perspective. Sort of like...life. It's all perspective. But the good thing about today's conversation with my brother? It didn't matter how we remembered it.... it was that we DID remember it. His way, my way...it didn't matter. It brought us closer, again. For all of the things that Ron should be thankful for? Is that this site CAN bring closeness, in many ways. Of new friendships blossoming, growing over five years time. Diversity....and that fact that we still all talk to each other.... Numbers....gads, the numbers. Smaller communities have survived on less, and he gives us so much more. Friendships that survive outside the community of Passions. These...are just like in real life, and yes, I'm speaking to you, Ron. They will carry on. But you were the catalyst, the one who brought us together from points around the world. There may be days or weeks, or even months, when, if Passions where to disappear, I might not contact the Netherlands, Australia, England, New Zealand, Belgium...etc....but contact? Yep, we have that. But you know what? The times and trials will go on, tempers will flare, peace will reign, life will go on. It's a huge circle, friends...a huge circle. Serenity, I'm sorry if it seems I hijacked this area...but it seemed the most SERENE place to put my thoughts just now, and as hostess, and Ron, as host? I thank you both. God loves you both. I know I do. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Amen to that Karilea...amen to that. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Karen~ Who is then responsible for all the people dying because they smoke? You take on way more than you should. I love you lady because you are as human as the rest of us. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I'll be back later...more running to do today--pant-pant-sigh. But I think it's just more the realization of where all of it at once. Take on more than I should? I was just thinking about how I got to get where I wanna be, and it occurred to me that first maybe I should own up to how I got here in the first place. It's damned easy, too. But like I said, I'll back. grin. Consider that a threat or a promise...laughing |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
LOL...a threatening promise...like a good, solid, thunderstorm in Kansas...I'll be watching...and waiting. With hugs. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
ah...home. *raspberry* It's a wreck too. But I thought I'd take a minute to pop in. I just told a friend of mine that my last entree was based on some soul-searching after I realized this past Wednesday that there were no drugs in my home. For some reason that brought on a fit of laughter from me, too. It's been over a decade that I could say that, (and yes, Ronnie Baby, smile, when I say no drugs, I mean not even a little pot.) Wow. I've been slaying dragons since I joined Pip, and you have all very gracefully applauded my acheivements and were patient, loving, and non-judgemental during my obvious "slips". And no, I'm not saying those "slips" are over either--I'm not sitting here in a halo--I've always found halo's rather binding. But I know from experience that the real work starts when you feel the pain. So thanks for letting me just sort my innards out publicly. And for the record, I don't recommend do-it-yourself detox to anyone. If any here read this and have problems similar to what I've described, please consult a professional. Make that a team of professionals. Chemical detox takes a toll on the body and it can, does and will make you very ill. And I say a team, because you'll need some guidance to the inner work just for the "maintenance" of your own head. and now, I'll answer a few questions I've been asked, so bear with me? Many asked why I didn't go to that psychologist (the guy who is just a card in my wallet at the present time) and I wondered this too. I just told my sister (twist) that I didn't call for an appointment because I thought the doc was doing me more good as a card in my wallet. As long as that remained an option, it was a spark of hope. But having had some unfortunate experiences with docs and medicines, I got a little leery. Had I gone to see this guy and he turned out to be less than I'd hoped for, then I would have had another disappointment to cope with at a time...well, let's just say, the card in the wallet gave me an edge. Another thing I was concerned about was being medicated again--and I am at a point now where I understand there is no magick wand for this monkey. If you present yourself to anyone with the idea of saying, "Here I am, I'm a mess--fix me" then it's not going to work. It wouldn't for me, anyway. The way I've dealt with this was strictly a personal preference and not the best way of handling it. So get help if you can. I am simply so self-indulgent that I preferred to do the physical cleansing on the gentle cycle. There were a lot of demons to slay and trust me, I know they are still camped on my front porch begging entry. And then, there was one more question. Many of you know my children are members of this forum and have asked me how I feel about the possibility of them reading this. Um...quite often they are reading over my shoulder. We talk about everything, including this/these stories you have read here. They are very smart kids, and I refuse to insult their intelligence by pretending that the elephant in the living room doesn't exist. So we talk about it alot, and yes, much of it is heartbreaking. But if it's possible to raise Republican Bohemians, I think that's what I've going on here with these kids. An example of one of our conversations: My son: Mom, was Daddy born dumb, or was it the drugs? Me: I honestly don't know Son. I never knew your father when we weren't on drugs. And then this, just happened just last week. My husband quit drinking and wonder of wonders, his brain IS waking up, and my son took note. "He's NOT that dumb, mom!" I nodded and told him that I'd noticed the difference in him too. Then my son got thoughtful, and thought aloud: "Man, does it do all of that?" Then he paused and looked at me-- "Man, mom, if you could quit--can you imagine?" (The boy thinks I'm a genius, I confess & blush.) I told him I'd rather not imagine. * * * I'm tired of dreaming--I really wanna find out. * * * Now I thank you all again for tolerating my public wringing of hands. There'll be more, prolly. But I'll try to start sharing the joys as well as the sorrows, k? Love to all. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
The boy thinks I'm a genius =============================== so he reads your poetry too? K? ........... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and hugs back to m'twin. I'm laughing again, remembering a conversation about six months ago we had-- It was the first time I'd talk to you sober. Thank you, Janet Marie, for being the best friend anyone could hope for. And now, I really gotta go rattle dem pots and pans. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen, I wish you lived closer so I could give you a big hug. |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
and you know why this last entry makes me beam like a kid with a TeenTitan marathon saturday god I am so proud of you in more ways than you know and dont be worryin about that halo remember 2 forward 1 back not only gets the job done... but is more natural and feels like solid ground love you lady |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
vilya.... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: You will! |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
"Wow" she says..... and so the Understatement of the Year Award is given this day to our sweet Serenity. and yes...it comes with a tiara. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Smiling at you, Karen... You look great in that tiara... grin Love you... "When the power of love overcomes the love |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Ohhh reminds me... Karen, can you post a pic of your tiara? The one you told me about? Pleeeease? Hugging you tight. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
A picture of my tiara? smile. It's not a beauty queen type thing, tho, so I'd hate to disappoint. It's a pewter rendering of leaves, with faux pearls and only a few sparklies. It's kind of, well, if not witchy then pixie. But yes, if you can be patient, I'm supposed to be getting that digital cam next month, and as long as I don't have to be WEARING the tiara--I think I can arrange for a photo. But now I'm tard. (That's tired for you northerners) My Dad used to use an expression to describe exhaustion that would make me wince--maybe it's a Texas thang, but when he was really whupped he would say, "I'm dead-dog tard." shaking my head... he had a million little sayings like that... Dream sweet, good poets. I love you all bunches. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Yes, that's the one... you described it to me in an email once...quite awhile ago. And no...you don't have to be wearing it. Love ya sweet lady. You're tard...go rest now. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
I want you to know in my eyes you are "Queen" every day! Your road has been a very long, dark, and sometimes extremely hard one, but each day you continue to take another step ahead to reach your goal. By sharing the stories you help others to gain strength in their convictions, and hopefully learn from you to never give up for all dreams are possible if you only try. So, to me lady you are definitely "THE Queen", and have every right to be a tard queen too, you work for your title!   You are a dang cutie patootie witchie queen too if I do say so. p.s. I want a house-wide search for that sneaky little Jesus ~ bet he has his hidden somewhere  |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
oh my godess... lmao This is wonderful, Sharon... I'll have to have these printed up and put up all over my new neighborhood to let those folks know just who the boss, is, huh? gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I needed the smile, my dear crazy canuck! (and btw, I wore that green outfit you sent me Friday too--I didn't go out anywhere, but I felt like I had! And it looks lovely with my tiara too!) thank you thank you thank you I love you lady. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
GAWD I love you to bits! Okay ... this is a daily ritual I have had ever since my last divorce, (well shortly after to be more accurate.) One day Prince was play on the radio (I am so jealous, Sea is in Vegas seeing him in person this weekend!), anyway, I started to dance to it all by myself, and I have never felt that freedom I felt just then before. There I was prancing around, doing ma thang, and no one to judge or criticize me ever again. I was liking it so much I even started to sing, (well, some would not call what I do singing but are you getting the idea?) This became a daily habit and then one day after a shower I figured, okay, Oprah says you have to love yourself butt neked ~ Oh, blek! So...there I was still dripping wet, with the radio going full guns, and just a dancing my neked bootie off all through the house and loving every second of it. I didn't think after that (according to Oprah that I loved myself anymore,) but I sure discovered that I can have a party all by myself and love that time so much. Ask Nan sometime about me dancing in the rain in Cape Cod for the masses! LOL, I did "Singing In The Rain" for all those depressed people that seemed never to have enjoyed rain before, right on Main Street. Then there was last year when I took the family to Disneyland and at the gates, I put on tap shoes (much to my family's surprise) and did the entire "I'm going to Disneyland" routine from the turnstyle right into the grounds, and got applause LOL I have this saying when people keep trying to "find me a man", no offence to the men, as trust me I have had lots, but I don't think I need one for a ton of reasons anymore ~ Anyway ... I say, "There is a huge difference between being lonely and alone." I absolutely love the difference, and am so comfortable in it. Each day I celebrate it with my crazy dance and am so thankful I can still laugh, and love life the way I do. And hey, I bet you looked as cute as a bug in a rug (whatever than means) in that outfit, and did you have an anklet on? One day you and I are going to set that place on fire, with bells on our ankles, and a song in our heart. LOL, you are SO special, and don't forget it - EVER! I read this thread and wonder just how many queens there really are out there, that just have not yet put on their tiara? I say, we start a "Tiara Club" and proudly display our womanhood by wearing them too, and you know I would! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Oh, oh....oh...may I have a tiara too? Please, oh please?!! When I was a little girl of oh I think 3 or 4, I used to get out of bed at night when my parents were entertaining friends, and take off all of my clothes, then enter the livingroom butt naked, singing... "let me go, let me go...let me go LOVER!!" I have no idea why I did this. Must have seemed a great idea at the time. I can't remember it, but probably Enchantress can. She probably had to come out of her bedroom and drag me out of the livingroom, back to my bed and discarded pajamas. I still have moments of sheer "glee" and crank up the music and boogie around while I dust the furniture. Not in the nude mind you, but lovin' my mid-age bod just the same. "Oooooh...shake your groove thang...shake your groove thang." Is a "groove thang" what I think it is? Anyway, yes, Sharon...a Tiara Club! Awesome. I would like to sign up please. If I don't deserve to wear jewels upon my noggin by now, well, just put me on an ice flow and let me sail away. Luv you guys! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
LOL...yes, Sharon, you WOULD start a tiara club, and all of the women here would be hard-put not to raise their hands and say, "Yes, please, may I join as well?" and they are all quite deserving, all in their unique, individually special ways. But...I don't do hats [well, I try, but fail...] and I don't do tiaras. Special reasons for that... but I would never deny those who can, should, and will! Hugs, y'all....it's been a terribly frustrating weekend...hopefully to be reconciled by tomorrow! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Incidentially I was talking to Karen earlier and she had mentioned that she had wanted to start a "Club" before ever reading my silly input, so maybe we can wait to join her club seeing we are sitting in her treehouse? Nightshade you definitely don't have to be butt neked to join a tiara club but you should not be afraid to say, "Absolutely no way, nada, not doing it, going there, eating it, cleaning it, cooking it, or raising it" to any man when you want to, and be ready to put on that tiara and strut with some attitude when holding your ground. I never could figure out how I could always seem to stand up to men over 6 feet tall, and still be afraid of a 3 inch mouse. I think tiaras are about attitude. Just like I love wearing a baseball hat when I get dressed up or sneakers with a ball gown, see? It is not a women's lib thing, just a respect my opinion thing, and listen to me thing. Tiaras make us kinda regal somehow don't you think? |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Oh my gawd!! Love your post Sharon... Chris!!!! I remember that so well...why did you do it? Attention maybe?....but..how did you ever think to take your clothes off for the added pizazz? This is a true story...Chris was about 5 or so..she would wait till our parents had a room full of people, usually people in the entertainment industry, who were laughing and partying, then she would remove all her clothing and come out butt naked and sing "Let Me Go Lover"!! She would belt it out with so much expression it was priceless! Was it the applause..? To this day I do not know why she did it. Perhaps she missed her calling? She does a great rendition of "Let Me Entertain You" as well. Yanno..I had a tiara once...when I was another magician's assitant. It was part of my costume...and have loved them ever since.. Gosh, I would love another... Do you think I can belong to your tiara club? Pleeeease? |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
 I guess it's official then huh? I think we can safely, for the sake of Passions, make this club an international one too. |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
uh hummm!! I know I'm not a very active member...but, can I be??? Please! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
And in by a tiara's sparkle is the latest May member, Martie  |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
YOU ladies really are somekind of wonderful! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
May I borrow a favourite word here and just say....GLEEEEEEE!!! What a royal feeling to awaken to this morn. When I opened my eyes I knew somehow I had 'changed'..just felt different somehow. Sharon you are priceless!!! Lookie us!!  But if this is the May Tiara Club...and tomorrow is June...what happens to us at midnight? Heh heh. OHHH I love thisss!!!  |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Oooooooh!! Yippeeeeeee!! Thankyou thankyou!! Oh, Happy Happy Joy Joy! No one ever wanted me in their club before. We look awesome don't we?! But, I think there are some other "goddess's" who should be wearing sparkles as well. Come out, come out wherever you are..... |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Sharon? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Ah...the tiara is so often misunderstood. It's been trounced by feminists as a symbol of pageantry--as if a woman in a tiara was an "uncle thomasina". Hmmm. This confuses me, as I've been asked by men in the past to don various garb to satisfy their fantasies, and yanno? Not once did one ever ask I wear a tiara to bed. They have asked for garters, leather, knee stockings, and a variety of uniforms, but never once a tiara. I won't delve into why that is, except that I can say without reserve that there is a subtle psychological change in a woman who dons a tiara. She sits taller in her seat, and just the idea of sparkles on her head gives a woman a sense of carriage. A tiara helps me to feel regal, and yes there's a certain amount of weight to that. But not nearly as heavy as the weight of slooped shoulders... There are many more here at Pip who deserve that crown, but I think that in order for a crown to fit, it has to feel deserved. So I wait earnestly to hear that janet marie, vicky, lauren, dawn, ethel, maree, helen, ruth, susie/littlewing, maureen, kathleen, susan, sea, sharon, nan, denise, liz santos, and all of the others so near and dear to my heart will step up here and bow their heads with a nod of grace, and say, "yes, crown me." and if I may be so bold, I'd love to request a crown for our dearest Madame Chipmunk too, who taught me so much about dignity. And btw? I'd love to start a club for knights of Pip, but unfortunately that requires a brandishing of sword, and somehow, me with a sword makes men nervous. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
LOL...you gals are something else, and I've missed you all over the LONG weekend. The only saving grace to the last three days is that our friends came in from Houston, my homemade spaghetti sauce was my "crowning highlight" for last night's supper following a spectacularly wonderful fresh salad...and no one got heartburn from my garlic bread. Pray for my home computer...sigh.... As for the tiaras? Mysteria, once again, my friend, you have outdone yourself. Serenity? E-mail those chicks and link 'em here... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen....you are a delight. I shall wear my tiara with pride. Madame Chippymunk I believe, has been wearing one for some time now ..... but let's design one especially for her from her Pipmates. Precious Lyra... |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Yes..all the Goddesses of PiP should step forward to be crowned. And of course Madame Chipmunk should have one as well. Then...for some reason, now promise you won't laugh...I feel like we should prance and strut naked through the forums..'cept for our tiaras. Just to celebrate June!! And the men of PiP shall bow before us..  What has gotten into me??? Ooooh I am feeling wicked today! It's the tiara....does it every time. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
A tiara? LOL Can you duck tape mine down? I am way too apt at stumbling... "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
 ~* Honorary Member of Serenity's Tiara Club *~ |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
And she will be remembered for as long as PiP Lives! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
(Here's Ethel....reading, crying, smiling, laughing, crying again after seeing sweet Lyra.....but smiling too with gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!) I'm here to step up there saying "yes, crown me", SereneOne!! And we just might go prancing and strutting all over the forums if we get Ron's permission. And, Susan, I stumble a lot, too, but there's plenty of family and friends here to help us back up if we fall. Right? I love ya'll!!!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
This is just the grooviest thing--a tiara club! Mysteria, you've done a wonderful thing here, and just for those ladies I forgot to name, this is not by invitation only... You are all royalty to me. Thanks all, just for being, and my apologies for not being around more lately. grin. House rennovations are moving right along--and that tiara thing must be working--as yesterday I received a gift of a shopping spree! All NEW KITCHEN appliances--in stainless too. (The hubby's checkbook now has waterstains on it from his tears.) If I'm dreaming, don't pinch me please--one of those appliances was a top of the line Maytag dishwasher!!! I've never had one, yanno. I was always the dishwasher around here... I remember when my mother purchased one though. My father hated it. He was always having to look in to that "infernal machine" for a clean glass. He would sigh and look at us all, and tell us "not unloading the clean dishes is the heighth of laziness" Even with that eloquent expression of disgust, we teenagers still didn't put the dishes away. He showed us, though. He disconnected it and used it for storage. But ah...I wish I could express my joy at watching my new kitchen grow. When we inherited the house, it was a fifties style kitchen, with an olive green electric stove (which was never properly grounded and would actually shock the cook) and an aqua oven, and one of those light blue countertops with gold flecks.... And NOW? smiling wide beneath my tiara--I've got an ISLAND where that ugly old wall used to be! So y'see, I've been a little busy, and I feel like I've been starring in one of those home improvement shows. 'cept it doesn't really come together in an hour. But that's okay. It's happening. Besides, it keeps my mind off of the the demons, if yanno what I mean. Hugs to all, and Sharon? You keep cranking out those tiaras. This is a good thing. Love you all, and miss you much. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen.....oooooooh new appliances to go with your new kitchen!!! Lucky you. My kitchen, where we seem to spend so much time just the two of us or with visitors, is still screaming for new cupboards since 1986. Oh well, could be worse - could still have my mother-in-law's avacado green refrigerator! Yuck. Keeping busy is a good thing. My hubby's sponsor used to tell him "idle hands are the devil's workshop." Tis true stuff. Hugs and congrats on your new kitchen fixin's. Chrislane. p.s. I don't have a dishwasher and never did. I just can't seem to figure out all those nobs. Plus....while handwashing dishes, my mind seems to deal with the day's problems better than any other time. That's probably because everyone seems to disappear and I am all alone at the sound of running dishwater! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Sometimes I think, as I watch the numbers on this thread go higher and higher, that there are people out there who wish I'd shut the hell up. If I allow myself the indulgence of total emotional flagellation, I hear ugly voices that speak of "ego-ism" and self-aggrandizement. Occasionally, when I was really stoned--I could hear the laughter of the kids in the schoolyard, too. I have thought of all of these things (and more) and wished to go back and delete--I wished that I'd written pretty lies. It does occur to me, though, that BOOM--this could be literally all she wrote--so I decided I'll continue, and my apologies to anyone who is offended by my self-interpretations of life. * * * There is a lady here, who write the most beautiful poetry, her pen name is Skyfyre, and she said (or typed) something once that won my total admiration and gave me a bit of strength to carry on in the name of myself. I wish I could remember the thread, but she opened by saying that what she was about to say wasn't going to win her any popularity contests, and I paraphrase here, but she added that she figured if she wasn't pissing somebody off then she wasn't living right. Linda? That may have seemed like an offhand joke to you, but it empowered me to be myself, and lessened the burden of my attempt to be loved by everybody. What you said was true. (And there's a tiara waiting for you, too.) I realized that telling others just what they want to hear was not just inauthentic, but ass-kissing, and further, I understood that with my deep desire to be a writer, I wanted my words to matter. So thank you. I don't want to write "velveteen"--I want to be real. And quite often, "real" hurts. So if this is too ... hmmm...whazzdawoid? sigh. If it's just too--then turn the page. Smile? I'm writing a journal here. * * * I'm a little jumpy tonight so I will be up awhile. It's injection time for my husband, and that is when he gets ill. He needs to be monitored a bit, so here I am, with one ear to the hall... It also occurred to me that perhaps there are others with Hepatitis C who might be curious about his treatment. So without invading his privacy too much (I hope) I will tell you what we know thus far. This is his second injection, and yes, it makes him ill. He's restless, and just generally uncomfortable. He did get a laugh out of the doc tho, who inquired about how he felt after his first injection: "It's just like bad dope." Hmmm. Had they ever done bad dope I doubt seriously they would have found that so amusing. I keep getting calls too, from friends and family who doubt that he quit drinking & drugs, and I find myself having to vouch for him. And I can vouch for him--he did quit, and I should know - one of the differences in his behavior is that he can't seem to tolerate being alone. * * * And I promised some happy stuff, too, huh? * * * Okay. * * * Yesterday my son received a generous gift of a Jackson guitar. (Don't ask me the "make"--I'm "tard" again, and too lazy to go look. The instrument had been neglected and forgotten, locked in a closet of a brother of a friend of his. My son apparently lusted after it so diligently, and showed his dedication by learning to actually play, that his friend's brother finally said, "Here. Take it home." We happen to have some friends at a music store who replaced a few corroded pegs/what-nots, fixed the "wah-wah", and tightened the tuning keys, and yes, now she is all polished and looking spiffy and damn if that ole axe don't sound good... We broked out an old peavy amp and whoa-it was Christmas in June. He set up the amp on the porch of what will be our new home, and proceeded to pick out the notes of some "Pink Floyd"--"Shine on Crazy Diamond". Talk about make a momma proud. Then we heard the creak of the gate, and there was our neighbor's son, with his Dad's Fender and a Gibson amp, coming over to "jam." He plugged up and they began their musician negotiations, and I tried to watch without being too obviously proud. The boy's father came out, and leaned over the fence, smiling. I said, "Hey Mike" and walked over for a chat. "You know what this means, don't you?" I asked him. He nodded and smiled without taking his eyes off of the two boys, heads together, all intent and yep, bad notes. "Yeah, I know what it means..." he grinned wider. "We're gonna need a garage." and I actually thought this might mean I'd get my guitar back. But nope. The minute my son got home, he corded up my acoustic (it has a pick-up) and hit the distortion on it and screamed with glee, "Listen to this!" sigh. Okay. Maybe he can teach me to play... * * * Meanwhile, back at the ranch... * * * We are all pitching in, and we left our daughter (she's of age, folks) here at this house, to clean and tend to the animals. And nod. She loves having access to the pc too--she's quite the poet and is very gifted at graphics too. She tends to be a private person, except when she expresses herself in the arts. Then I see so much of me in her that it terrifies me. Pause. She can be very dark. I used to call her my "mini-me", but the truth is she is so much more dignified than I--I couldn't nor would I ever ascribe that quality to myself. She calls me "Mother" and my husband "Father"--and the way that she says it never sounds cold or distant--she's just pure natural grace. She doesn't socialize much--there aren't many people she wants to see (well that is what she said) but yesterday I was surprised to find a trio of girls knocking at the door for her. I let them in and the sound of giggles of from the bedroom warmed my heart. It just seemed so idealic. Then my daughter escorted them to the door and there were no warm goodbyes--I knew something had gone wrong but I didn't press it--right away. (smile?) I didn't find out until today what went wrong, and my husband had to tell me for to be informed, too. He told me that he and my daughter went for a ride to return some movies we'd rented, and they'd seen a girl walking down the street. "That's her." My daughter said. "Who?" my husband asked. My daughter explained that she was one of the girls who had visited the day before. "So...?" my husband prodded. My daughter was scowling. I wasn't there to see it but I know that look. Smile. I've seen it on my own face in the mirror. "She was in my room and started bragging," my daughter explained. "She said she'd done every drug there is--even acid." oh my. My daughter continued: "I told her, 'you have to leave right now.'" And then the little acid queen was shown the door. * * * I'm proud of that, but I confess, I understand, too, that my kids' aversion to drugs is directly related to what they have witnessed through their parents. US sigh me. I can never un-do it. * * * so here it is, again, folks. My head on the stick, in the middle of the path as a warning: "Caution ye who enter here" * * * But I promise you, if some find this annoying--get used to it. If I have to, I will dance naked on this internet. If I think I can stop one person from screwing their lives up, I will scream my stories off-key, on an amplifier, cranked to "eleven." This is spinal tap. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
i watch just about everything, i say very little, but my heart has been here wiping tears off the screen. this is a special place and though i dont know ANY of you you ALL manage to make me feel proud you... Im learning too, right along with you thank you for letting me intrude...now..i'll retreat back to the peanut gallery |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
They serve peanuts here??? Damn...send me a link, will ya? I'm starved. and I'm ordering a tiara for you too, Dawn. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
 well, i cant find peanuts, will pancakes do?a tiara for me?? ...dont make me start crying...oh no...im going to cry.... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Well here you go Ethel, but I can't do these near as well as Karen's sister, so maybe we better try really hard to convince Twisted, and Vicky to join the open club?  In the meantime, PoetdeVine very kindly did us up some banners we could use to let people know about Karen's club, etc. so these are for your use from Sharon:  W didn't want to forget all those princes in here, so this one is for them too!  Hey Karen, if that poor little Jesus ever finds his way back home he is really going to think he is out of it now |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Oh Mz Serenity for what it worth, sometimes the bad things we do actually turn out great young adults, and great people. I know smoking is not like doing hard drugs but trust me it is as hard to kick. I smoked like a chimney, and still get teased by my son who claims, he remembers me being pregnant with a drink in one hand, and cigarette in the other. To this day he hates smoke and smokers actually, but gives them their space just as long as they give him his. I can remember the day I quit, I was sure he put my granddaughter up to it, but they claim not. She noticed a man at the bus stop smoking and said so sadly, "Gramma that is so sad, that man won't see his grandson gladulate." I said, "What? What is gladulate honey?" She said, "Well it makes me so sad you won't see my boyfriend, me in a pretty dress, with "matching shoes" when I gladulate too!" I realized of course she meant graduate finally, and was furious with my son or his wife for putting such a notion into a 3 year old's head. I called, and they claimed that she might have heard a conversation whereby they did say, they hoped I lived long enough to see the girls graduate, but doubted it, the way I smoked. That anger I felt was overshadowed by the overwhelming look of that sadness in Tori's eyes when she said it to me that day, and that same night I quit! Haven't had a smoke in over 2-1/2 years, don't miss it, and know I will ever go back now that I know what things really smell like (flowers, wind, the sea, etc.) and unfortunately what food really tastes like. Oh yeah, the bottom line to this story is that when we know better, we do better, and if ONE person learns will do better having learned from our mistakes then we didn't really do it ALL wrong yanno? I encourage you to share this journey you and G are on, not only for the benefit of others, but also for yourselves, as that is one heck of a tough road to walk without holding a hand or two, and I see you have many outstretched hands here. Oh and one more little thing - your daughter actually got that respect you respect so much from you silly! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Gladulate. I love that word. I understand perfectly too. When overcoming a personal obstacle, "congladulations" are indeed in order. And oh...about my twist? she has stories...and deserves much more than a tiara. She taught me to stand my ground, and I love her with every ounce of me... I have two sisters and a mother that...well? You've heard of "Steel Magnolias?" Think Titanium. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
THATS what I missed....dont know why I didnt think of it before... I need my "wah-wah" fixed... roflmao gawwd I love your spunk and fire girlie. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Sigh...I hate being without a computer at home. Soon, soon...hopefully by the weekend I'll be rewired, required and reconnected... This thread GREW overnight. I want to say so much, and the Werk Monstur calls... I'll be back. Girls? Thank you for allowing me to sit in the corner and listen... it feels like home. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
This is home! And just in case any pip men step forward to be knighted/crowned....I have just the 'thang' for you Karen. Please don't use it when you're tard.  Gawd I love you all...and this place!! Morning all! |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Just popping in to say that I'm still here... still reading...listening... laughing... and crying... and feeling so privileged to know all of you special ladies... and a few other special ladies who may not be here in this thread, but who have had such an impact on me... Smiling at 'Think titanium'... because yes, Karen... one of those ladies is your Twist... smile... She has taught me so much as well... about myself... about perspective... just as you have... She, and you, often see 'me' more clearly than I do... and always in a better light than I do... I have grown so much in knowing both of you... my sisters... smile And every one of you ladies here has touched my heart... in ways you likely don't even realize... I read much more than I post... and I 'feel' so much more than I say... so just know that each of you truly is special to me, and I love you all so much... Mysteria?... you brought back a memory with your story about Tori... smile... My grandpa was a heavy smoker... and when I was a child...maybe 3 or 4 years old... I remember a commercial that used to be on TV... it was an anti-smoking message, and I don't remember much about it... except that it was animated, and there was a man who would take a puff on a cigarette?...and then he would start coughing... and he would continue to cough until he literally coughed his head off... and I remember, at that young age, telling my grandpa that I didn't want HIM to cough his head off... I don't think I was naive enough to believe that his head would literally 'fall off'... but my innocence was enough that my sincere concern made an impression on him... and they tell me that was a big part of what caused him to finally quit smoking... I hadn't thought of that in a long time... and, for the record, I don't condemn anyone for smoking and have done my share of it in the past... but Mysteria's story just brought back that memory from so long ago... So, thank you, Sharon... Now, about this tiara club... I love it...smile... and no... I can't say that I have ever even worn a tiara...even for fun... nor can I say that I feel deserving of one... but being surrounded by so many of you who truly ARE deserving?... it helps... and makes me think...'maybe...'... cuz?... for me to have become associated with such an amazing group of ladies?.. I figure I must have done SOMETHING right... smile So here I am... head bowed...humbly asking to be a member of your club... crown me?... smile and, Karen?... Thank you... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
I kind of like the idea of this name for your club Karen, "Titanium Tiaras." I told Karen last night, I can't tell you all about my family on here as it is a family site, or I would trust me, but know this that those people in their strange way made me all the "good" things I am today, and I feel there are some good things too. I worked so hard at being all they were not, and sometimes my son calls me Dora (a loving nickname from a character played by Ellen Degeneres in the film Nemo.) People tell me on a "good day" I am a lot like Ellen, well anywhooo, Dora is quite forgetful, and just keeps trying at all she does. My son claims I am the only person he knows that will chip away at an iceburg saying to myself, "I can do this, I can do this!" So, when I hear him saying, "Just keep swimmin, swimmin, swimmin," to me in jest, I take that as a compliment actually. Vicky m'dear if you think I am going to make YOU a crown you are mad lady. Now that you are up front and centre, you and the "Twisted" are hereby in charge of crowns, and necessary garb. However, Sharon (PoetdeVine) who is busy looking for a house, and a great job, keeps sending the odd suggestion I put in here for you all, like this wonderful quote we could use.: "There is in every true women's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity, but kindles up and beams and blazes in the dark hours of adversity" - By Washington Irving Thankee Sharon. Also she built that chatroom remember? We could all have weekly meetings in there maybe? Elect an executive LOL, yanno important things. I want any job to do with shopping. By the way, PoetdeVine also is now awarded the "Serenity Titanium Tiara" award (there we can award awards LOL. She fits the requirements in my mind too, and sometimes our story just can't or doesn't have to be told to make you eligible, as a real Titanium Tiara wearer, just knows she deserves one, see? I was talking to Karen at 3 this morning which is what 5-6 her time? She was just hanging out playing nurse to poor ole G, who is a pretty sick puppy. I have to tell you that in itself tells me the person that Mz. Serenity is, as that vomit-spewing man is the same one who walked out on her in a similar condition. You know, I doubt I would be there, and I am a pretty forgiving person, so she gives me a new outlook on charity, and humility this day I did not have yesterday. And so, life in the "Titanium Tiara Club" goes on? |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Yanno, Sharon?... funny you should put me in charge of tiaras...cuz?... seeing as how I have never really felt worthy of wearing one, I ALMOST just volunteered to shine them all for the rest of ya, so I could still be in the club... grin?... So, yep... I see how it is... LOL... and I'd be honored to help in the crowning of others... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Titanium Tiara Tale Tellers... has a certain ring to it. If not for these stories of REAL life? however could we find the wherewithal to take that next step? |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Vicky - do your "thang" as only you can - and let us know where we have to go to pick up our new chapeau will you? Being a glitzy kinda girl I don't mind a little pizazz on my tiara at all! News Bulletin! The poet, oh so devine, got herself a great job today! Congratulations Sharon! See, those titanium tiaras really work. If you rub them really hard, you might just get your wish, and if not, you sure have a shiny crown anyway. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
We miss you Sunshine. Warmest hugs....and oh yes, my bookend Sharon deVine? Please know that I keep you in my thoughts and prayers always. I seem to keep missing YOU as well. As always, with your wisdom and gentle heart you find the perfect words to sum things up: "There is in every true women's heart a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity, but kindles up and beams and blazes in the dark hours of adversity" - Washington Irving Perhaps this is why Paul instructed in Corinthians that a woman should cover her head during worship, lest "the angels be offended"? That is what was taught to me by one Jewish practitioner of Voudou, anyway. and now, I'd better duck and run, before that crew in Philosophy comes after me, huh? And I may have mentioned this before, but when I was in therapy with the only doc I've ever loved, he told me that unless I had a strong source of emotional support, I could very well "snap". Well, I've "snapped" a few times, but it's kind of like what my father taught me about growing marigolds. (and yes I'm going to tell that story again) My father and I were in his garden, and I was perplexed as to why his marigolds were so much larger and blooming so much more prolifically than my own. "How do you do this?" I asked him. "Like this." And he stomped on one of his beautiful plants. I was shocked and asked him why he'd done that. "It's like this," he explained. "Something in that plant wants to live--and where the breaks are, the plant will heal itself and grow even stronger, and the result will be a larger tougher plant." He showed me some of the scars on the other plants to prove his point. Then he smiled at me and said, "Don't be afraid to pick your flowers, either. Flowers are a gift to us from God and they are meant to be shared. For every one you give away, two will bloom in its place." Then he picked one and handed it to me. Yep, "da lawd loves a garden" * * * I like to think of you ladies as my bouquet of blooms, and you all bring me more strength and comfort than I can properly express. So carry on, oh ladies of the Titanium Tiara! I love you all. Vicky? Stick one of those tiaras on your own head, my raindancer queen. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and? I just read Mysteria's newflash!  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Congratulations Oh Devine One!!!! ~*~ Serenity? Me going plant stomping soon... VERY soon! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
I love and respect every one of you!! I love my tiara and the banner, too!!  (And, Sharon DeVine, congrats on the new job!!) |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Ethel, you are more than welcome. * * * That sleep thang isn't working for me tonight. Again. I told a friend earlier that insomnia is like having a light left on in my head all the time, and my thoughts are drip, drip, dripping like a leaky faucet in the bath. It's maddening. So I promised Mysteria that if I couldn't sleep I would tell the story of the Lucky Beans. For those of you who don't know what a lucky bean is, it is a dried fava bean, given as a token of luck on St. Joseph's Day--pretty much as stated in this thread: http://www.totallycatholic.com/beans.html * * * My husband is a son of a packrat, who was the son of a packrat, so I suppose I'm fighting tradition (at the least) if not some genetically inclined obsessive compulsive disorder of accumulation. This has become altogether too apparent to me, as I struggle to design renovations for a house that he inherited from his father, which pretty much served the purpose of a three bedroom filing cabinet. I keep finding "collections" of things, and with every discovery, there must be an earnest discussion of the importance of that collection--keep it? where? (Yes, watch Karen nod hopefully, "let's just throw it away!") and yes, all of this leads me to the topic of the "lucky beans". sigh. In order to reach that wall that I so gleefully boasted about having removed earlier--I first had to clean a small kitchen counter. Sounds easy, right? heh. Beneath the piles of old lotto tickets, plastic mardi gras cups, I finally saw the seafoam green countertop, and there, in a neat pile of about twenty count, was a pile of dried fava beans. I was a rookie then, so I exclaimed aloud, "Wouldja just look at this!" "What?" My husband asked, with some concern. (He really gets nervous when I clean.) "It's a pile of beans," I answered, ready to sweep them into the garbage can. "Stop!" (Stop?) "That's my lucky bean collection." (Here's where ya'll picture me rubbing my head and trying to be patient.) "You have a Lucky Bean collection?" "That's them." he replied. I sighed. "Um, they all look alike..." He looked pained and he knew what was coming. "But they were my Dad's." silence. "Well they weren't very lucky for him, now were they?" He managed to look sheepish, so for the moment, I relented and told him, "Here, we'll keep them in this jar. If you find any more Lucky Beans, add them to this jar, okay? Like things go with like things" (I didn't mean to be condescending, but he is not only a packrat, but a disorganized one at that.) So they sat in the windowsill for about a week before I pulled out my secret weapon. * * * I called his 75-year old mother. * * * I inquired about her health, and she inquired about ours, and I gave her an update on the work we'd been doing in the home. Then I mentioned the various things we'd come across--I told her I'd set much aside in case there was something she'd like to keep for sentimental value. Like, perhaps, the Lucky Beans? WHAT? grin I proceeded to explain. She sighed. "Put my son on the phone." I smiled and handed it to him. He listened, and said, "okay" and threw the dried beans in the garbage. * * * I asked her what she had said to him, and as best as I can explain to you all (gawd I wish I could type her N'awlins accent--oh, I just did, dawlin') she had explained to him that Lucky Beans were only lucky if you were of Italian descent. Furthermore, lucky beans are apparently a devious plot of the Italian race to take over the world--because every St. Joseph's Day, they toss these cursed beans to unsuspecting non-Italians, who unwittingly collect their doom in the form of dried fava beans, carrying their misfortunes in their pockets, foolishly thinking they were protected by the great St. Joseph, when in fact, it was just the opposite. When I'd heard this story she'd concocted, I whistled with admiration. Is she good or what? I have much to learn from my mother-in-law. (And please, all folks of Italian descent or otherwise, take this with the humor in which its presented.) * * * Shaking my head. They ask me why I can't sleep. * * * Drip. Drip. Drip. * * * Anybody hungry? We're serving up fried liver with fava beans and a nice chianti... Well. The chianti might be safe. Now let me go try this sleep thang again. I'm tard. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
I'm with you Karen, all the way... I get a smile out of reading here~~~ *and believe me when I say there isn't much to smile about lately. hugs all M |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
I have to take offense to this last entry.. where do you get off making fun of brilliant cannibalistic pyschopaths? HUH? I mean excuse me Serenity...but this... you have crossed over the line you not only mock the Great One, you forget the all-important spookysnakerattlysuckynoise that the Great One makes after saying that SHAME SHAME on you THE GRINNING PRINCE (where's MY tiara?) |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Aha! The first brave male to step forward? |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
 |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
sure... I will be the lone eggontheface in THIS henhouse grin (and Karen? you keep blossoming after all the stompings you... are blueribbon beautiful grow baby) |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
YESSSSSSSSSSS THANK YOU SHARON! I AM A ...a um QUEENPRINCE! (dancing the electric slide like y'all would not EVEN balieve!) |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Ok...you've got your tiara..now show me your club! LOL |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
this club swings as big as a pen keySTROKING the ego byebye..... grin but then I knew all ye clubswingers..BEWARE here there be Thighgrrrs! smirk |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
see why I love this guy? He's adorable. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Bri? What a guy! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
brian, I think you look quite dapper in your tiara. You called Serenity's journal club a "henhouse?" Hmmmm...that's a no-no. Politically incorrect and all that jazz. Because if indeed it is a "henhouse"(which it isn't and now I am rambling).. people would assume we "chicks" would obviously need a .... well you know...I can't say it...hee hee |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Serenity, Sunshine suggested I come to your thread and pick up my tiara. How do I do that? and ....jo |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Jo...I have no idea how they are doing this--it's magick! But I think we need a picture of you to start with. It's just a hunch. and lol@Chris and Bri with the henhouse...hmmm...yanno? I could prolly make a few omelets without blinking... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Jo? Spend some time reading, too...you need to know where, and why, this all started... and then? THEN you can add your voice. I'm looking FORWARD to that! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Brian, now you are one brave guy....or maybe it's that you are one VERY SMART guy?? Any fellow that wants to be among all these beautiful ladies has got to be brave or smart one!! And, it takes a very confident in himself man to wear a tiara. Welcome to Karen's Interactive Journal, Jo. |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Thanks, Karilea, Ethel, and Serenity -- I'm going to do a bunch of reading tonight; I'm looking forward to having some fun here! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Jo? Invite Sis... |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Will do, Sunshine.... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I'll have to learn how to do that tiara thing...but I'm warning you all, I'm techno-challenged--it took me a year to learn how to (I'm still so proud of that) But yes, I have the day off today. Actually? I'm punished. I sort of threw out my back. Seems I really got into busting up that old tile floor. nod I got a little carried away. There I was just a-slammin' that spade away, and those tiles were popping up all over the place--there were two layers beneath that orange shag carpet. (see why we had to do this?) While I was just a-jammin' away, doing my thang, I noticed the guys had stopped to watch me. They were awfully quiet, so I asked "What?" blowing the hair out of my eyes as I paused. "Remind me not to piss you off Karen." That's all Mike said about that. Later, we re-arranged some plumbing as I also got the sink o my dreams which required some new doo-dads, and I discovered I have a natural knack for pipes. Go figger, eh? I'm enjoying my day off, tho, and it's good to be "home", where Ron is in charge of maintenance. *wink* And yes, I am tard, and sore, but I'm grateful too. Y'see? Six months ago I needed help to get to the car to go to the hospital. Now I'm part of a work crew. Smile. Watch me make a muscle. Ow. Maybe later...wince. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
I still can't do bold or italics on here... *sigh* "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
"watch me make a muscle" wince ~*~ LOL...actually, more like ROTFLMAO... Remember that fall I took several weeks ago? I thought I could let everything "fall back" into its natural place...? WRONG... so I've been the last two weeks visiting my friend the doc/chiro who has been manipulating my back into shape. So what do I do over the weekend at a fish fest? Throw horseshoes... ow ow ow ow ow.... heh...also was requested to bring, and read, some poetry, so I made [read "asked"] the hostess choose from a slew that I threw at her for pinking my cheeks like that... but you know what? I quit before the guys got up and left. Was told I could have read more... but I want to see 'em beg...LOL.... Rest well, Queen of the Tiaras.... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Susan? See below [no, lower] when you respond, where it says "Quick View"? Click on HTML and you'll learn all sorts of things... also, realize that you can click on anyone's edit button and see for yourself how they place the bold and italic marks so that you get bold and italic... and later? We will teach you to and such... |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
oh see? I KNEW IT sigh I told you not to work so hard... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and I'm okay. REALLY. I've heard that most people do say "ouch" after popping tile. dream sweet? |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Serenity -- I haven't read the whole thread yet, but I am getting a large charge out of it -- you crack me up...lol -- hope your back keeps improving. ---- On another topic -- do you know what software people are using to make their beautiful graphics -- is it PaintshopPro? I want to learn how to do that (but I know it will take awhile -- tho' not completely technically challenged, I'm a bit of a slower learner on the graphics things). Sunshine -- you get your back better, too! And, thanks for that tip about looking at the edit to see how people do things. --- I talked to my sis today and passed along the invite. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
I have some tiara's as tubes in PaintShop Pro, that's how I put one on Brian's picture. I don't know how Mysteria is doing hers though. If anyone has PSP and needs the tiara tubes, let me know I'll send them to you. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
jo? I think it's time you met my sister... gimme a little time to organize the mess I woke up in, and I'll send you an invitation or a link, k? hugs, lovely lady. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Here ya go lady! http://groups.msn.com/artisticstylingsoftwistedserenity (tell 'em serenity sent ya...and blush, that's supposed to be partially my site too, but I'm always HERE--but my sister does have some of the best tutorials on graphics!) |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I figured everyone could use a laugh...so here's a giggle from 1969...  |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Yer so cute! Ya were then and now you're beautiful!! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Always felt like the little odd duckling...strange, how we see ourselves growing up...and even today. Still feel odd... maybe someday I'll grow into my skin, y'know? |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Pretty as a picture Karilea....and your hair...I love it! You know that style is "in" even today! Good gawd it's boilin' here! I'm wiltin' on the vine I tell ya...WILTIN' !!!!! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
You're wiltin' from layin' out in that hot sun today with yer feet in that puppy pool Chris! |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Serenity -- thanks, lady -- I will check that out over the next few days....wish me yer luck, will ya, please! Still trin' to find a picture -- don't have any recent ones, but I'll find somethin'. Sunshine -- lol....know what you mean about fitting into your skin. I am 5'11" -- I always towered over everybody until I was a senior in h.s., and then still did over most. You were and ARE a cutie! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"Class of 69"? Now that takes on a whole new meaning... class, indeed, lady sunshine. You've always had it, and it always shows. * * * and now...I may have a story brewing...I'm never too sure these days. I have tried to explain this need to write to a few friends, and the blank looks I receive as reply make me feel not so successful at my attempt to communicate this need I have... I just LOVE to write. Maybe it's a control thing--I can actually complete a sentence without interruption. (That is so nice.) I can (and do) edit, for clarification and sometimes? just because it's a writer's prerogative (sp? lazy me) to change their mind. Shrug. I was thinking earlier, it's as though there is this other "me", sitting just outside the spotlight, listening, and I can say whatever I like (within guidelines of course ) and it's just a release...It's like a shot of whiskey, a nodding bartender, and a sympathetic hand on my arm all at once. And then there is always the option to "delete", too. And trust me, sometimes it's necessary. So let me stroll on over to Notepad, and maybe I can squeeze out another diatribe... If not, you all do realize, you are all MOST welcome to join in... that ain't considered interruption. It's just another spot, dancing diadem with my own. I think all those different lights make pretty patterns, m'self. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I like Mike. Who is Mike, you ask? He's the neighbor who threw me a lifeline. (He is building my new home.) He is gruff, and not everpleasant, dark eyes and scowls, and this man is almost single-handedly rennovating our home. He does lovely carpentry work and takes a great deal of pride in his accomplishments, even when those accomplishments are not to his benefit. He calls me "witch", and with a twinkling eye that implies a naughty rhyme--he yells-- "Hey WITCH!" as I slide out of the truck. "hey mike" I mumble until I find my center of gravity. He teases me like a brother, too and anything is fair game. Barefoot sandals? (WTF?) No bra? (Don't ask.) "It must be a full moon!" he yells if I am wearing a skirt... sigh. Meet my new neighbor, Mike. grin. I like him. * * * I think we understand each other. It took some time, but we figured each other out. That game of defiance that protects a marshmallow heart? We recognize it in each other, and without a council, we both move in complicity allowing each other "the game of the growl" that is our defense. We're "hep" to each other in that way. We've known each other awhile, but just as "jam" buddies--I liked the way he played guitar, and he liked the way I sang. We knew the same tunes, (doesn't everybody know those sing-alongs?) but we were always in sync of "tiresome". An unspoken communication. He could read faces and so could I, and we nodded in the knowing of "time to quit" at parties. So we did. * * * He has a sense of family and loyalty that I understand, coupled with a fierce protectiveness, and I believe we have seen those same qualities mirrored in the other. I watched him pondering his eggplant garden one day, as he fondled the yellow edged leaves in perplexity, and I offered, "Too much clay, Mike. Add some ash...and?" I grinned wide, "you'll do well with some sawdaust, too. So bring your saw over here." He did. He built my room... * * * He didn't stop there, tho. This guy, guided us through every step--and is now re-building our kitchen, and re-using the parts for an outdoor kitchen on the back porch too. All for free. (All for free?) Nod. This kinda scared me and I told him so tonight. "Nobody does anything for nothing, Mike..." He looked hurt. "I'm not questioning your integrity, I know you are a good man, but there is something you must want, surely?" (I'd love to type he replied, "don't call me Shirley" but that's not what happened) * * * "My son is supposed to go to high school next year," he said. I knew this. His son? is a wildly gifted musician who won a Disney Talent search contest--lots of glory and a few perks. His son is also a fourteen year old midget, and he is going through puberty harder than the average bear. Mike paused, and looked like he was trying not to care, but he said, "I understand you are home-schooling Krista?" (my daughter) I swallowed and nodded. (The Junior High School in that district is a lesson in gangland.) He didn't look at me, but his eyes watered as he said, "I can't afford private school next year." Oh....oh my. The boy was slated for high school. We both knew the trial a midget child could go through there. "Would you teach him, along with Kris?" Silence. I wasn't trying to pain him with my hesitance--it's just such a huge responsibility. But I did pause before I replied, "I need to talk to your wife too, before I can say anything." So he went down to the bar and fetched his wife. * * * Oh boy. * * * She came home bitching about how embarrassing it was to have your husband come "fetch you" out of a bar. I nodded sympathetically, but added, "it's just as embarrassing for them tho." Then I told her a story which I'll tell you all another time. * * * But we talked about "our" idea, tho, and I told her that I would not be the one responsible for her son's homeschooling. SHE would be in charge of her own son, and I would "start" her out, and help her if necessary, but that in the end, she was responsible if they chose that route. That yes, I had some tools and skills to share, but it was their name on the papers signed--that agreement with the board of education--and if they chose to home-school, it was ultimately their responsibility to ensure that any learnedness occurred. * * * sigh. We'll see. * * * But wonder of wonders, she sat awhile, talking. She chain-smoked cigs, expressing her concerns for her son--how she wanted him to learn to adapt socially in spite of his handicap. Then she ran out of cigarettes and excused herself to go get another pack from their house. I glared at Mike. He smiled. * * * "Y'know," he said, "it's occurred to me that you two might become friends, and maybe she'll stay home now and then." I stubbed my own cigarette out and asked, annoyed, "Do I look like a lifeguard to YOU?" And without a trace of a smile or sarcasm, he replied, "YES." * * * What in the samhell am I getting into here? (to be continued) |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
She and I talked alot. I thanked her for her patience while her husband spent his days at our house--I told her truthfully that we'd be lost without him--he had been a step-by-step directory for us trading spaces neophytes. She told me how sorry she was for the loss of my father-in-law. She talked about the many parties she'd been to on this very porch, and his kindness. I grinned. His kindness? "Let's just call it his impatient generosity." And she laughed. Damn. She got the joke. * * * "Yanno, tho?" I paused, stealing one of her cigs. "I lost my Dad too." I sparked the light and sucked, exhaling. "My Dad died too--just one week before Mr. 'B'." (I always called him Mr. "B") She paled and said, "that's right...I'd forgot." "Everybody did." I said. "OMG..." she went paler than the barroom tan, "Baby? Karen's Dad died too..." "I remember baby," he told her, and I remembered that he did. * * * I wasn't drinking, but I felt drunk, telling her everything, everything. It was easier to tell, knowing she'd never remember. I told her the stories of my dad growing thinner--and mike, Mike! reminded me that I had burst into tears at their crawfish boil--saying, "my daddy's dying"--and I remembered then that Mike & I had met before--he'd helped me creep into the shadows to cry. * * * "I thought witches knew..." he told me then. I had just seen the bones of my father still covered with skin and wasn't in the mood to have my metaphysics thrown in my face. "You thought witches knew what?" I snarled, inhaling snot. "That there is no such thing as death." Bastard But he held me while I cried... "Let it out..." he said, and rocked me tight, clumsy with his guitar strapped upon his back. * * * There are things that I block out. * * * Cynthia held my hand tonight and told me that I'd done a great job. * * * I think I did okay. But I am a little tard. * * * I spend my nights now, sanding the box that keeps my brother, my days are spent fixing the house that kept my father-in-law, and my dreams are spent planting the garden of my father's keep. * * * Now I know, yes now I know, why my father's eyes apologized when I said I goodbye. * * * I told him that I loved him--twice * * * Now that's a good ending. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I'll be back. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
sigh. It's been a long night. My husband is convinced he's being bitten by spiders. I asked him to take a zanax. He told me he wants to be aware if he is being bitten by spiders. sonovabitch sigh |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
"Class of 69"? Now that takes on a whole new meaning... class, indeed, lady sunshine. You've always had it, and it always shows. ~*~ You know, dear, I put that photo up for one reason only – and that was to give you all a good laugh. Seems it backfired. *smile* I keep waiting to “get the fit right”. I had always admired the photos of the grads before me; they seemed to lean into that dress. It wasn’t until I went to get the grad photo taken that I came to learn the dress was a prop which I didn’t lean into very well. A prop? Sigh. I was brought up QUITE sheltered. [Peggy Sue remembers]. Use to be I didn’t know anyone who was born in December, so I always felt I was the odd duck out. That, and the youngest of my class. Heck everyone else was getting to do the “coming of age” things and I held back, for I hadn’t “come” of age, just yet. Notwithstanding that I always acted “much older” than the rest of my classmates in several areas [treated as an adult at the age of three has that affect…] So…I’m still waiting to fit my skin. I didn’t fit California, either. Not too sure I fit Kansas, but I’ve tried. Not quite sure where I fit. Sometimes I think it will be when I’m really old, and the skin is crepe, and I will probably wear lots of lavender/mauve/purple tones…maybe that will be the time I’ll come into my own. Maybe by now you’ve guessed that’s why I’m always feeling anxious to not only listen, and learn, but share more, as well. ~*~ It was quite a week. I’ve received enough compliments on the recent poetry readings that…I could allow my head to swell for a moment, but don’t dare. I’m sure someone with a big pin is standing right behind me. The people that have given said compliments are trustworthy [they don’t want a thing!] ~*~ I like Mike, Serenity. Not too sure yet about his spouse…but I like Mike. He’s brought some serenity to your outward shell. Bring some serenity to his inward needs of seeing his child succeed. You can do it. You’re ready now. And everyone needs a little magic in their lives. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
That's it...grin. I have to go home again. (thanks for the excuse) There I will salvage my eldest twist grad photo...she looked like you, except brunette, and had this dippity-doo flip on the side of her head. I used to laugh at "dippity-doo"---but now? I have to wipe it off the bathroom basin-- my son loves the stuff! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
LOL...all the girls wore the flips and such...I tried, but one side flipped that way while the other side was just lank. You see, my hair was even straighter than my twiggy body [oh yes, I was twiggy before SHE was Twiggy] [no wonder that danged prop didn't fit, there was nothing TO fit!] So I opted for the short cut - which was, actually, a present from my grandmother. She tried to help me "come of age"...bless her heart. But that's another story... And if I had the right "nose", don't you think I could have been Barbra's sis? LOL... So I sit and wonder just what skin I'll show up in next time? Still and all, with the hope that I get it right the next time around. ...and I can't wait to see that photo... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Have I told you guys how much I luv ya? Well I do. .. ... and I like Mike too Ser. I have an embarrassing moment to tell ya'll about - but not right now. Right now Karen's words are whipping around in my mind trying to find a quiet place to settle and ponder. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
That's how her last one hit me too, Chris...a whole lot of pondering and I'm neither in the right place, or under the right circumstances, to do those ponderings justice! And that just knits my grits! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
I was feeling kinda nostelgic today, and seeing Sunshine went back in time I thought I would give you a laugh on me too, so here is me in 1948 (age 3) and in 1968 (age 23).   You know Serenity, the lines you wrote below really got me to thinking today, I spend my nights now, sanding the box that keeps my brother, my days are spent fixing the house that kept my father-in-law, and my dreams are spent planting the garden of my father's keep. I wondered if everyone sees the connection from a spirit that has passed on, to you, a living spirit, in the lines you have written there? You see, I do exactly the same thing, and I don't know if I started doing small actions consciously or sub-consciously through a need to stay connected but a few similar actions in my life literally "make my day" now. To go back, by you sanding the box your brother started on each day and trying to finish it, your brother is so alive in your mind, rekindling memories each day you touch the box, or think of working on it. That house no matter how you change it will always remind you of G's Dad, and the garden, oh that garden, now those marigolds will ALWAYS remind you of your Dad. Just like each day I twist the key in a very old music box that reminds me of my Gramma, and each night I wind another key, on another music box that reminds me of the best friend I ever had, Willow. It also reminds me of the best son this Mother could ever have too, as he thought enough to have this made for me. I have other rituals I perform to keep memories alive but each of these actions I perform I share with my family so they know how important these "little things" are, the things you can not buy with any amount of money. Tori quite often wants to bring Willow's music box out to our tea party, and it warms my heart when she asks, then skips around singing and dancing to its song. Today actually I am another year older (literally), and truthfully, another year wiser, having learned so much from 9-11, all of the folks at Passions, and from those I have brushed by in my life this year. I learned the most by listening to my insides and to me. This comes with practice, and takes a bit of work, but once you start to realize that the saying, "If it feels good - do it!" is actually true, and if something inside is screaming "don't!" I actually now listen. I do not take for granted one single inter-action from anyone nowadays and treasure each to be honest, as this too you learn with age, that everyone has a story to tell worth listening to, if we just listen. Well, now that I have over-stayed my welcome on your thread sharing my "Sharonisms" I bid you all a wonderful day, and even a better evening. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Sharon? The last Christmas gift I received from my brother was a ceramic music box. It plays the Hawaiian Wedding Song. I'm not sure if that means anything, but it is certainly lovely. But that's not the last gift I received. grinning like mad here, it seems I got this package from CANADA today... and inside was a gen-u-ine TIARA!!! A real sparkly one too! Do you even know what an angel you are? sheesh. It's your birthday, lady!!! (Sharon is delightfully insane, good people.) Thank you my lovely friend. (My family is convinced yer nuts too.) *chuckle* I love you. |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Serenity, I like Mike, too. When is the book coming out? I'll buy, no joke. You really have a gift in holding my attention (a difficult thing to do -- my kids tell me I suffer from adult ADD, maybe so..... then again, maybe it's all those brain cells lost during child birth....and child rearing!). ------ Dippity Dooooo dah! That brought back some memories...... Anyway, just wanted to say 'hey.' Sunshine -- I feel like that, too.... Sharon -- Happy Birthday! -- enjoyed your post about the little things. The only thing I have of my father's is a book of piano music he gifted me from The King and I, and the rosen he used when he used to play violin. That's it. So many people in my family have passed on.....I only have the memories mostly. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Karen, consider yourself "crowned" tard lady! It was for YOUR birthday on Sunday, along with another silly little thing coming. LOL, you got it too early! Hey, I am crazy and proud of it too, so warn them in town that a nutcase from Canada may land there one day Iliana, I think it is the age group I am in, as I have lost a lot of friends in the last several years, and most recently a man that meant a great deal to me. I dealt with the loss well, so I supposed I am getting used to it, and that bothers me. I wanted nothing to remember him by but the times we spent together as they were good enough to last me my lifetime. My family is almost all gone, except for my son and his family, so we are small but we are strong! [This message has been edited by Mysteria (06-09-2004 11:51 PM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Because of this reference starting point… /pip/Forum29/HTML/001659.html#19 and because I still feel a sense of sisterly [and brotherly] solitude here, I will relate a little story that happened, oh, about 1968…. My folks were industrious. They worked hard, but all of the mouths to feed took what dollars Mom and Dad could scrape together, we were never really ahead of the game. I thought all women worked outside the home as a matter of course, and that was before feminism hit hard in the late ‘60’s and by the ‘70’s, I learned that, “women were working outside the home…”. It did make me wonder what other mothers did all day… But I digress. Mom worked outside the home for awhile – at an answering service, nights, so she could have the days with the kids, and Dad could take care of us in the evenings. But the way the kids were spaced out and such, we needed to have extra hands and hired on a teenager to live with us [and later was “adopted by us” – she’s such a special person and another story altogether…] But even then, Mom and Dad could see the value of Mom holding down “a job at home”, so she quit the answering service and set up a free-lance secretarial-type office in our house. Took up most of the kitchen, but we still managed. We had a mimeograph machine, an IBM 300 typewriter [it seemed like it weighed in pounds it’s own model number]; a folding machine which later led to what was called an Addressograph machine – a large, metal machine that slid metal plates through a feeder to “automatically address” your basic junk mail/flyers, Buyers Guide, things like that. So you can tell, of course, with that kind of machinery, we were expanding from the kitchen to the use of the garage for the Addressograph [both the mail stamping part and the label maker itself [not a fun machine, and certainly not a quiet machine! – metal hitting metal? Ow! On the ears…] The business also grew into Mom’s manager’s house as well… Their livelihood flourished. Even among regular kitchen activities of baking bread, making jam, not to mention feeding lots of mouths – our clients were never sure if their work was going to contain food particles and spots of spaghetti sauce or what – but their work was always delivered promptly, clean, and spell-proofed, checked and double-checked, and usually earlier than the estimated time. The folk’s business grew. Because of Vandenberg AFB being close by – made for another reason that a lot of Mom’s work was resumes and such – of course that led to another story as well…. So, picture a 16-year-old working outside on the Addressograph one day…the tedious movement of left arm picking up a flyer to place under the stamp, the right foot pushing on the lever to bring the stamp down, right arm taking it away, and stacking…and of course, being slightly competitive, we always strove to try to beat the previous worker’s hourly number of plates sliding through and magazines or flyers neatly stamped and ready for the mail… Did I mention this is tedious work? You know how one yawns widely doing tedious work? So wide, as a matter of fact, that one’s eyes water? Yeah, those kind of yawns. Well, that was what I was doing. The clanging/banging of the machine was getting to me, and I gave one terrifically wide yawn. So wide, that I popped the bone out of the socket on the left side of my jaw. Now, when this happens, one would think it’s funny… It’s NOT funny. The bone gets lodged up against an inner muscle and if one tries to close their mouth [they can’t] the pain is excruciating!!! Panicked, I run into the house with my mouth firmly lodged open. Of course the first thing Mom says is, “close your mouth or you’ll catch flies!” Trying to talk with an open mouth is not easy…a lot of unhnuh’s come out. Of course tears were streaming down my cheeks and I think I can honestly say I gave my folks their first real medical conundrum…neither of them had seen anything like this and neither of them knew what to do. Who says folks don’t learn something new every day? ~*~ Cut to the chase – Mom is calling the doctor’s – indicating that father would be bringing in the eldest with a mouth condition they didn’t know how to describe – other than I couldn’t seem to shut it. [Gee…sounds like a teenager’s syndrome, propounded!] Dad is driving nervously downtown – we lived on the south side – the doctor’s office was just slightly north of the central part of town – or north side as I remember it. I’m laying my head on my dad’s lap as he drives because [duh] I’m 16 and don’t want anyone to see me with my mouth shut open…and I’m crying my eyes drier than the desert that lies just to the east of us; and because, well, darn it…I’m embarrassed that I don’t even know what I did to myself…and it hurts, big time. You see, the muscle that connects the jaw to the rest of the head goes relatively untouched, always…unless you did what I did. A numbness sets in when this very “accident” occurs; and you don’t know it hurts unless you try to shut your mouth. So, I’m 16, twiggy, shy, and horribly confused at what I did to make my Dad and Mom so darned upset and nervous. Oh, did I mention naïve? NOT to mention that I had to leave the “paying job” that was going to see me through my first year of college [at all of $1.25/hr]. [But keep in mind, at that time, I was still charging only $.35/hour to babysit other kids…] So we get to the doctor’s. So I’m scaring the patients that are in the waiting room – teenager with mouth open – that MUST mean trouble, right? The doctors’ nurses know US as a family – and as people who take care of doctor’s calls from the answering service – from Mom’s immediate work and service for the doctor whenever he needed forms, pads, whatever…he was a FAMILY doctor. And he was our family’s doctor. He called in from delivering a baby to put me in a quiet cubicle and whoever was with me – they were to stay with me. And he would be there soon enough – and I would be the first patient he would see. He was one special doctor. The procedure to “cure” my little problem was simple enough – but unless you know? You don’t know. The doctor, a tall, good looking, bearded gentleman, said in a quiet voice, “sit still,” then, put his thumbs back and onto my bottom molars, then with his forefingers, under my chin, pushed down with his thumbs, and up with his forefingers, and “pop”…my errant jawbone was back in place. Yes, you too can do this little magic trick on yourself! He recounted a story, as my jaw regained composure, about a doctor’s wife [who apparently didn’t know the trick] who would pull this stunt every occasion when formal ceremonies were in order; and of course, her doctor was my doctor…and she, unfortunately, was neither young, nor sober…and at least I could smile at him, for I had been quite sober… But he cautioned, once done, this very matter could happen again, and the best defense was a clenched jaw when a yawn came on…. I’ve been clenching ever since. It was not something I could forget, lightly. BUT…the most embarrassing moment? Was when the most handsome doctor asked if he could test his results, and require a quick kiss on the cheek. I think my Dad must have been so relieved, he didn’t even think of what the question was, that had been asked. The docs can’t get away with that, today. And sometimes? That could be considered most pitiful. There will be more stories about that Doc…. And serenity? Thank you, Lady, for giving me a place to share. [This message has been edited by Sunshine (06-10-2004 09:44 AM).] |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
as a member of the Titanium Tiara Taletellers I would like to stand up and say something... not a tale.. but...it occured to me how important this is these journals..the idea of it this is a poetry site and poetry is art and art is really just communication between us all art is communication and like language art has developed "rules" which of course are made to be broken...smile and I think...that every poem I have read here...has told me about the person who wrote it....in fact I think...you dont really need biographical information about a person....if you read their poetry but then it occured to me... that because over the centuries... and learning from school that there are these "rules" to art and sometimes they might intimidate a person into not saying..in a poem... how they really feel so I think this idea...of a free space of a zone of comfort made to say .....who I am..what I feel....is a perfect idea...a complement to the poetry because really poets dont write poems to write poems... as any artist..they do it..because that is the best way they found.... to communicate their heart..their soul to others...to reach out and find others...and BE found by other souls there is a comfort in this place..in these blue pages.... to have the journals and say ...in nonpoems what we have strived to say in poems I love it... smile I will sit my clubswingin butt down now and pass the right-to-talk-thingie smile |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I've missed your stories Kari--and wince at the jaw thing too. Good thing it didn't happen to me--it would have been considered an opportunity, if ya know what I mean. I wanted to thank you all again--jo? That was such a lovely compliment. thanks. I have trouble with compliments, so if I seem ungrateful or act like I didn't hear you, it's because compliments embarrass me. (and btw, I told my sis about you, jo--so she's expecting you to come knocking at that other site.) And it's medication time at the hacienda, but if he sleeps, I intend to sleep too. If not, I'll be back, talking into the mic again. Thanks for puttin' up with me folks. I love you all. You're all so wonderful |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and a "HA" to bri... we're soooooooooooo in sync. miss you |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and Kari? I came back to add that I said "yes" to the homeschool plan. I love that little boy dearly and I'm getting excited about the prospect of trying something different with my days. It's good to be excited about life again. And I'm off to look at some curriculum, help the hubby with his shots, then I'll listen to the Hawaiian Wedding song again, and try to have a favorite dream tonight. *winkie winkie* |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
quoting Sen: I stubbed my own cigarette out and asked, annoyed, "Do I look like a lifeguard to YOU?" And without a trace of a smile or sarcasm, he replied, "YES." * * * What in the samhell am I getting into here? --------------next page----------------- I came back to add that I said "yes" to the homeschool plan. I love that little boy dearly and I'm getting excited about the prospect of trying something different with my days. It's good to be excited about life again. ======================================== *smiling at you baby* some things are handed to us at a time when we think we have too much-- but in truth--the gifts are given when we need them most. yeah....*winkie winkie* |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Bri… quote: See why we want you around? You not only listen…like the other guys that have found their way here, But you understand, just like the other guys that have found their way here... And that, sir, is why you, and they, are poets of the titanium type… And we deem you all :keepers: ~*~ Serenity? Have I said “thank you” yet? I can’t believe you read the whole thing…yet, I know you did. Yea, I get a bit carried away with stories, but that’s because someone once told me, I have an interesting voice. I let THAT one get to my head. LOL… And, I think you CAN hear me. quote: Ditto. Except, I thought I said that first…*wink* ~*~ Mysteria...you give the best, most interesting gifts...I truly hope you had a wonderful birth DAY, and that the love and devotion we all have for you keeps reaching your heart... ~*~ Janet Marie? We're due a story from YOU... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Are you kidding? Not read the whole thing? You see a good looking doc with your mouth stuck open, and I'm not gonna read the whole thing? lmao... y'gotta be kiddin' |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
I love starting my day in a "PASSIONate" way. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Chris, m'dear... where's your next story??? |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
Geez Bri... you trying to give all us unsensitive types a bad name?? |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
I agree with Chris...I start my day here, checking to see how you are all doing. The stories brighten my day. Karen, I am jealous of your quick renovations...it took me over 20 years to get our home done here... M |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Cpat said quote: Sunshine said quote: What part of "you" or "other guys" isn't being understood here? Aren't you one of the "other guys" that are here? You're here, you're you... LOL... thanks for the chuckles... Now...write me a story... |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
yeppers...Capts here... hes one of the good guys. Hes the one with the Jeep-- you know--the one with the Tiara hood ornament. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
"the one with the Tiara hood ornament." If I knew that one was coming I'd have worn my net knickers. I'll be back...have to go regain my composure. *Take note of the two sisters rotfl..runs in the family* |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
"some things are handed to us at a time when we think we have too much-- but in truth--the gifts are given when we need them most." Well...those words hit me hard today. I debated on sharing But what the hell? Last night I came home from work and walked into the garage. (The garage has turned into the smoking area). I took one look at my 16 yr old daughter (she has posted on pip) and knew something was wrong.... I wasn't prepared for what she had to tell me. She is pregnant. hmmmm.... Well.... What now coach? punt? *sigh* She is scared and in shock. (we thought we had done what is necessary to prevent this). So I told her not to worry. We would figure it out. She thanked me for being such a good mother and not "freaking" out. And apparently, a so-to-be grandmother. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
We're never prepared for that one. Even after they're married. Oh, I know... But...from what I've read so far, I have a good feeling... and I will be sending my thoughts along. Let me know if you want to talk...ever. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Okay...okay....I'll tell ya'll the embarrassing thing that happened to me this past weekend. I don't know why I have the need to tell this....but it could happen to any of you ... maybe it has It was a beautiful day for a motorcycle ride. We jumped on our Harley...well, not really jumped, slowling climbed onto our Harley and took a drive all along our river road, "in the wind" as they say. Ah yes, in the wind, my eyes watering like an open tap, mascara flowing down my cheeks covered in smashed bugs of all types. Anyway, my hubby wanted to stop at Knobby's house to see if he had a certain part for our bike. Yes,....Knobby. They all have names like that, his bike owner friends. Not that they are in gangs or anything - mostly family men. There's "Fish", "Mad Dawg", "Gangster","Rooster", "Wood" and my alltime favourite, "Rubberhead." Men! lol. Where was I? Oh yes, we stopped at Knobby's and I was bored. Looking at pipes, breather's, foot pegs etc, just ain't my thang...ya know? It started to get hot, so I took off my jacket and sat down on the curb close to the shade of a bush, thinking to myself, "I could be at home in my garden." All of a sudden as I was watching my Rick admiring a fishtail pipe, I felt something crawl into my bluejeans at the back of my waist! Instantly I reached back to try to grab the intruder, but missed him. I could feel it crawling lower into my drawers! What to do? I had never met Knobby before and he and Rick were so involved in a conversation about horsepower, that I didn't dare interrupt. I "gingerly" walked to the other end of his driveway and pretended to be talking to Knobby's dogs through the fenced backyard. Really I was trying to shake the dickens out of the little dickens who was now biting my ... ummm...buttocks!!!! Think Chris! Okay..okay...walk swiftly back towards Rick and Knobby(still chatting away about whatever)and try to catch Rick's eye. Ya right. Might as well have had my hair on fire running naked down the street. I know! Sit down as hard as I can on the curb.Squish the little buggar. Good idea. Nope..bad idea. I plunked down on the cement hurting my tailbone and angering the intruder further. OUCH !! Oh, thank the Lord, the babbling ninkumpoops are finished with their "oh so important" converstation and Rick is putting his helmet back on. Yippeeeee !! I pick up my jacket without trying to disturb the suddenly quiet intruder. OUCH. Cautiously, but still with a wide smile and "Nice to meet you Knobby" I settled onto the seat... OUCH. As we drove away, I leaned into Rick's back and yelled in his ear, "Stop at the coffee shop, I have something in my pants!!" Rick looks slyly over his shoulder and grins, "You sure do darlin'... you look hot today." Good grief, what a time for him to finally give me a compliment. "NO I HAVE A BUG IN MY PANTS AND IT IS BITING ME!!" He laughs. We stop at the coffee shop and now I am walking like I have a case of really bad diaper rash. Once inside the cubicle in the washroom, I take down my pants and sure enough a black ant falls out. He was still alive and kickin'.... but not for long. Whew. Is there a moral to this story. No, I don't think so. But, it makes me wonder just what might be my biker name? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Susan?I understand about your hesitation to share--I tend to get queasy about the details of the lives of my loved ones. I don't always feel like it's entirely my story to tell, but you might want to talk to twist. As I've related before, she was pregnant at fourteen. (That just takes my breath away when I consider that my daughter is just one year younger.) At age fifteen, my parents put their newlywed expectant daughter on an airplane to California to join an ex-biker turned Marine who went by the name of "Peanut." When my father told his little girl goodbye, he whispered to her, "You tell 'Peanut' that if he doesn't take care of you, I'll turn him into peanut butter." and my point is? Have faith, Susan. The love is already there. and btw? Her son came to visit me last night, and he's my favorite nephew--more like a little brother than a nephew, and he's handsome and kind and generous too. Faith. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and wow...laughing. Did I bump into Chris there? grin. Bikers also have names like "Peanut." *chuckle* |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Oh, geesh, now I feel badly. Sorry Susan. I had no idea that you posted. I must have been writing my silly happening at the same time. My thoughts are with you and your daughter. But, you know...I was 17 when I got pregnant for my daughter who has now given me two beautiful grandsons and another on the way. Things will work out. Ask the universe how to handle this and you will be answered. We are all here for you. Hugs. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Biten Behind? Bumpy Butt? LMAO great story... But I got to tell you... My pants don't have any "space" at the waist.. *sigh* |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Karen? I NEVER ask for anything, not even a kind word... So take heed when I say this... Thank you, I needed that. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Chris? LOL I loved the story. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Thanks Susan. Karen's journal has become a soft place to fall for all of us. I just adore her. Bumpy Butt? Ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaa !!!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I wasn't sure if that had helped or not, but I remember another woman who was a mother at a young age. She explained to me that yes, she'd had plans. She said it was like she was forced to leave the interstate on a road trip. It took her longer to get where she was going, but had she NOT run into the bit of highway under construction, she would not have the memories of the "scenic route." Please feel free to write me, or here, anytime. We'll pray for the three of you. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Chris - my choice was Bumpy Butt...or Bitten Buttocks... Susan...we're all here...but it's never too crowded not to bring in one more...notice that? Serenity? |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Susan, we're here for you. Everything has a way of working itself out. Big hugs to you Ser.. And to my sister...*giggle* How about...um Bugs? or..maybe....Cricket? Ah yes, I remember...you ALREADY had that one!! |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Thank you all (and those who emailed as well) You guys are the greatest!!! Now, how far along does she need to be before we find out the sex of the baby? |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
I used to sing a song as a little boy and meant every word of it. "Oh I wish I were a little bar of soap. Oh I wish I were a little bar of soap. I'd go slippery, slippery slidie, Over everybodies hidie, Oh I wish I were a little bar of soap." Somebody should have written a song about an ant! Okay, so I peek in on the girls once in a while. That's nothing new! If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Just came back to say I know "that" ant song. Although that would get ya' outta the rain! If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Larry, I loved your little bathtub ditty... You feel free to peek in anytime.. it's not just for gals here yanno? If you stand still long enough we can measure your head... and you can become the second male member of the Titanium Tiara Club. Somehow that just didn't come out right.. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Oh geesh! I forgot that there were also men reading. Is my face red! But, I do like your little song Larry...hee hee. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Chris had ants in her pants, Chris had ants in her pants |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Now, to be serious....... (though I did get a little tickled, Karilea, thinking about how some people over the years would have loved for it to hurt for me to move my jaw to talk. ahahahaha) I'm glad that it got okay. I'll bet that was embarrassing for a 16 year old. And, Karen, I'm so proud of you for doing that for Mike's son. I like Mike, too. And, your kind and understanding heart could be good for Mike's wife, too...... And, Susan, I'm here for you too...and give your daughter a hug for me. And, here's one for you too....... And, you guys of the male gender, welcome.... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
it should be midnight here when I post this. I'm glad this day is over... pow. tard. migraine or izzat a contusion? sigh. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Oh, I wish I was a little tiny ant, Oh, I wish I was a little tiny ant, I’d take a bite, and hit or miss, I’d chomp the butt of Missy Chris, Oh, I wish I was a little tiny ant. Oh goodness help me, I must need sleep! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh yeah...forgot to mention the rest of the doctor's orders? "Whenever a big yawn comes on, grit your teeth through it..." and that sage advice was given, because...once your jaw has slipped out and popped open? It can do it again... Sheesh...no wonder I'm tense... More on Doc H later... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
 Bad, bad ants !!Hope this day is better for you Karen! Sharon? hee hee heeeeee!! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Morning all... I hope you all have a very nice day and weekend. Sharon?? Sorry I'm late with your birthday greeting. I hope that it was a good one.  |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Aha! Sharon knows the tune to my soap song, cool. My tiara size is 7 1/4. You guys are the best...If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Awwwwww..... |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
another lovely PIP man has been crowned |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
OH YES!!! It takes a real man to wear a tiara! gotta love it, gotta love it! and Larry, I never did give you hugs & smooches for joining us. So... & Now, if ya'll give me a moment, I'm ironing out some details of my next installment. brb. Wow. QUE HOMBRE! |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Sharon, That feels a little tight! And Karen...thanks. I've been watching for a while now. You're the best. If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Okay. I think it's agreed. We all like Mike. Meet Mike. <-- That's him.* * * I think I'm flipping out. I have men in my life calling me difficult. (And that's the NICE word.) My kids ignore me. Women avoid me. And if by chance, all of the above get together, they all have a good (nervous) laugh at my expense. They don't understand me and they don't like me very much. I am annoyed, and this is my official vent. (Nod. Get a writer angry, and you just may end up the subject of a writer's whim.) Perhaps you're wondering what I'm ranting about? I'm talking about house rennovations. Do you realize that statistics show that fifty percent of couples who rennovate a home get divorced before the rennovations are completed? That's looking very good to me about now. Forget about the house. I want my life rennovated. * * * Now yes, I like Mike. I like Mike very much. But he is, afterall a man, and a carpenter at that. I ask you all, has any one of you been stupid enough to whisper the word "paint" around a carpenter? I advise you not to do this. Wait until the sawdust settles. Painting is a quiet task, and is best done when carpenters are asleep. Then there's not a damn thing they can do about it. and yes, menfolk, I like wood. (In fact, I think wood looks good on a man.REAL good--wicked smile--But that's another rant.) I adore the grain, and would prefer to stain then cover with color--if it's not overdone and dark. In small spaces, it tends to be cavelike. Hmm. Maybe that's the idea. I can just hang from the rafters by my feet in the daytime and flye the friendly skies at night. sigh. Now where did all of this start? Well I thought it was a simple request. In this tiny house, that suited ONE person quite comfortably, the washing machine was located next to the kitchen sink. I, being a woman, (I am a woman despite what the hormone levels suggest), looked at that space and thought, "Now that would be a fine place for my lovely new top of the line Maytag dishwasher." Hmmm. I looked at the washer, and looked out of the window to a covered patio, which already housed the dryer. Call me difficult, but? It occurred to me, that since the water line was right there, couldn't we just move the washer to the other side of the wall? I mean, it wouldn't be side by side, (like on tv or in those lovely Maytag ads) but at least it would be closer, right? And besides? We needed the space. NO PROBLEM Karen! That's a great idea! And oh, btw? Since we are tearing out the cabinets anyway, could we put the refrigerator back where it belongs? (Y'see? The cabinets were built in the sixties to house the frig--a sixties midgetfridge--so the newer model was just put against the wall in front of the space, rendering the former proper space "dead". I hesitated to ask. That meant we would have to raise the existing cabinetry ("pressboard" too, serenity types disgustedly, but okay, okay, I know some tricks of the trade to make it look like good wood) NO PROBLEM Karen! That's easy! oh. And while we're at it? Could we extend the cabinets out under the window to provide a workspace and house the unsightly garbage can? It beats the hell out of building drawers Mike smiled. and the Island wasn't even my idea. That was Mike's. I just wanted a service window with a counter so I wouldn't have to "slop my pigs" daily on the very nice dining room set which occupies the space in front of the kitchen. But Mike wanted to give me an island, and I protested--that looks like a support wall. Hmm. It sure does. Tell y'what. (they told me what) We'll leave the side walls up, and put in a header. "Fine," I said. Thinking that when the roof caves in, I'll get the actual kitchen of my dreams. So the wall came down. Most of it, anyway. Then there was the stove. Not only was it olive green, it was electric. Not only was it electric, it shocked the hell out of me every time I tried to cook. "Fine with me," I told the husband. "I'm sick of cooking anyway." So he got me a new stove. And yes, it had to be gas. (If any of you cook, then you understand why it has to gas.) And of course I had to have a new oven. Do ya'll know how hard it is find a gas built-in, in stainless. I settled for black. We'll just have to paint the refrigerator to match. (I didn't have the nerve to ask for a new fridge considering that we own three and had already given one away.) WHAT? sigh. I'll do it myself, nevermind. So... We decided to run piping from the gas water heater through the ceiling--down the wall to the stove. So...shrug, we tore out the ceiling. (Just where the piping would go.) Yanno? I was thinking. There's really not enough cabinet space in this kitchen anyway, but if we're going to go galley style, we're going to need a pantry. A REAL pantry. Hmmm. If we just take that bedroom door and reframe it to the hallway, and close that other door that goes NOWHERE, and use these nice bifold doors that we acquired from a salvage yard, then? We'd have a pantry. "Now that's an EXCELLENT idea!" And it needs a light of course. NO PROBLEM. Mike said he'd even put sensor lights that would pop on automatically when I opened the door. DAMN I like Mike. And I'm sure the kids will scrape that contact paper off of those high accent windows. That would really let some light in here. "I'll do it!" Zach yelled. And he did. (It was quite a job too.) He's the only one who didn't act like he was being crucified too. * * * Now, to move the washing machine--I noticed that the slab that had been added on before the addition of the canopy, was wisely sloped to allow the rain to run off away from the foundation. Oh. OH. Yanno? I said, "If you put a washer on that, it's going to stop every time it hits a spin cycle--the legs won't adjust to accomodate that much of an angle." Sure enuff. Whew. They agreed and understood. "I'll just build a deck there," Mike offered helpfully. "And while I'm at it, I'll build it to house the outdoor fridge and the freezer chest too." Cool. Um...shouldn't we take measurements? Naw...I can just eye it up. oooooooooo---kay...hmmm. The service deck came out lovely. Perfectly level. And yanno? It would have accomodated the washer, frig, & freezer, but I wasn't counting on re-using the old kitchen sink outdoors. (Well, it's a cool idea--a great space to clean fish.) But it had to go next to the washer for easier access to the water line. This time I said, NO PROBLEM. The chest freezer can go on the slab--it wasn't in danger of falling on anyone, as the refrigerator had been. Yes, the deck was beautiful. Thank you Mike. Now, G? Where's that white marine paint, I'll just slap a coat on and then we can put the appliances on there-- and then? CRACK! Nope--the deck didn't break--but? lightning bolts came from the eyes of the men. "Paint? Girly White PAINT???" sigh. I had blasphemied. "It has to at least be sealed," I protested."This is Lousisana, for chrissakes--we're in danger of losing our termite control contract NOW because we need a load of dirt to shore up the slab." Their eyes narrowed in amazing synchronicity. Oh bother! The witch was making sense. (again) Well, okay. But just a clear water seal. Um, actually, I was thinking that grayish blue stuff. C'mon guys. It will hide the dirt (we have dogs & teenagers) AND it will match the blue exterior of the house. Okay. But you should have seen the gloom. "Now where's that white marine paint?" For WHAT? "I want to paint this lattice that we're using to replace the privacy fence that the termites ate." WHY? Their mouths were hanging open. I sighed. "So it will look pretty. That way? It will match the exterior of the house--blue & white--get it guys?" But you won't see it! It's going to be covered in vines. (We've intended to grow squash there) I sighed. "It won't ALWAYS be covered in vines." And besides, Mike protested, it's gonna match. It'll match the wood. "Well Mike, it would indeed match all the unpainted wood in your yard, but not in mine." He grinned. airhole I thought. bitch I heard him think. We both smiled at each other sweetly. I shrugged and said, "It's no biggie." "But is that a full gallon, G?" Why? "I want to make sure we have enough." For WHAT? "I want to paint the bricks in front of the house." I was working Mike's nerves. You're going to paint brick? He shook his head and looked like he might cry. "Since his Dad put up blue vinyl siding with white trim, the stone bricks look out of place." I lit a cigarette and exhaled at him. "My roses are going to look great against the white." What Roses? I explained to G that I was going to plant a white Rose bush, in memory of my father, whose casket was covered in white roses, and right next to it, I intended to plant a red rose bush, in memory of his father, who, as a Master Mason, had been covered in Red Rose Petals as part of the Masonic Burial Rite. Silence. Finally. No argument. "Well you are going to get out there and paint bricks behind the thorns every year..." I nodded. It's a deal. Oh...and I want to replace the red rocks that are in the garden too." ARGGGGGHHHHHHHHH... I pouted. With white pebbles. I wasn't asking YOU to do it, just pick some up when you go to Home Depot for the waterseal. Thompson's too. Not some cheap offbrand. Sheesh. * * * I sat at the table, sketching out shelving placements we'd need for books, videos, dvd's and vinyls. They looked at each other fearfully and went inside. * * * "Is she ever happy?" I heard Mike ask my husband. "All she needs is a good--" "Anybody know where I can get one?" I interrrupted. "I know, let's hire a crew from Home Depot for that." I smiled sweetly. * * * Yep. Call me a bitch and I'll live up to the name... |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
YOU are soooo much like my mother (almost twins ya know)....and YES, she is still as young and pretty as you! many things i read of you just makes me giggle to bits...because im seeing HER doing these things! LOL ...you KNOW you have those guys wrapped around your finger! ...but they are lucky you choose blue and white paint....i would have chose PINK..LOL |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Dawn? Laughing here about the pink--I also chose the wall color for the inside of the home as I couldn't argue with the vinyl siding. I assured the hubby I would choose a neutral tone. I chose a beigish color called "Timescape"... otherwise known as "ROSE beige" grin. Yanno? Now that the accent windows have been opened? It looks kinda PINK. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
OMG your story is SO familiar having been married to two handymen. The word paint could cause a divorce, and as a matter of fact, it did once. I have a paint story too and will make it short. My new husband had bought this big trailer at Cultus Lake close by to surprise me, without telling me, (first off, does that sound like "camping" to you?) Well, that was his first mistake, but there were others. We drove there that weekend, and there it stood, with its foot-high little picket fence, fire pit, and rock sidewalk. If I had known then the right name - I would have known that I had "almost" become a Stepford Wife, (and I will give him this - he kept trying.) So...when he went back into town to work on Sunday, (leaving me there with foot-long buzzing bugs,) I decided I might as well get busy. I went to the local hardware store in the little town close by, and got "PAINT!" Lots of paint, in lots of colors. By the time he returned on Friday, That property was damn cute actually. However, my neighbours who knew Bob obviously all better than I did, were standing there waiting for him to drive up as I guess they already knew the surprise I had was going to backfire on me. He was NOT happy! Not at all. I had painted that white trailer top to bottom, the rocks now had cute flowers, the sidewalk had scenes, the flower boxes were all colors, and those steps were simply adorable! If I do say so maself ~ the fence was simply wonderful as I did it all in that Trompe Loeil, depicting the cutest nature scene with little bunnies, raccoons, birds, and the like. (Ron C would have loved it! NOT!) I swear some of those snotty women actually had their arms folded just waiting for the next scene to evolve, and it did, quite loudly actually. Well...the poop sure hit the fan. He neglected to tell me he was out to surprise me yet again, this time for our anniversary, and had decided to purchase a huge motor home with OUR money, and that the Larson family, (one of the people who came to the lake,) had purchased the trailer this week, and were taking possession in August. Did I mention we talked every day on the phone? How's that for communication? Like that should have been my first clue? Well I had warned him. I told him before, "No secrets!" See what can happen when you keep secrets? I spent the next week with the rental paint sprayer he got me, putting it back white, lugging in new riverbank rocks, and painting over all my artwork on that fence. (Now, Nan and Kit have seen my handywork LOL, I can really paint honest!) but some people just don't appreciate fine art I guess .Well, I would NOT talk to him period for days! I did not want a stupid motorhome either, I wanted a tent, to rough it in , smell fresh air, etc. for Todd and I, not something on wheels! Well, one thing led to another and now I paint everything I want - everything! And PINK too. See, here's my rosy kitchen LOL, it has pink and white striped walls.  Karen you are too precious! Well,the first lesson to learn is don't keep the paint can or any evidence in plain sight, get yourself cleaned up before they come home, and then don't admit a thing see? Guys only really notice change in the house when you show it to them, remember that! The men that do notice are LONG gone, and happily married for over 25 years LOL, just speaking from my own experience though.Tell G and M, I watch all those decorating shows, and be careful I might just show up with my tool set, here it is...(now, that should scare them!)  Now that should whip them into shape, and if that doesn't work, then tell them "Kiss Ma Tiara!" and start on it yourself. There is not a man alive that is not scared of a woman with a hammer in her hand |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
I deny it! If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Welcome Larry - love your tiara! Karen? I know exactly what you are going through with the remodelling headaches. When we first started working on the inside of this house to make it look more like...ummm...modern country...nope...ummm...old country...no, ranch style..hmmm...country/ranch/lodge, yup, that's it, well, we didn't have room in the garage for the rough-side cedar my hubby planned for the livingroom walls. No room in the basement either. What to do? What else?! Bring the table saw and multitude of tools into the livingroom itself! What better way to get a preview of how it will look when finished then to cut the bloody timber right smack-dab inside the house?! Sawdust...I have a terrible fear of it now. I even hate holding on to a railing if it is wooden because of the length of time it took for my hands to heal from splinters. What's that you ask? Where was the furniture while this was going on? Here there and everywhere. Most of it held bits and pieces of cut cedar or boxes of nails or empty coffee cups and ashtrays. "You worry to much." my hubby would say laying another bundle of wood on top of the kitchen table as the livingroom was full and "needed a bit of cleaning up" so he informed me. Men doing "manly" things....ya gotta luv em'. Everything turned out fine though. But, then it was time to rip up all of the wall to wall carpeting and unveil the beautiful hardwood floors. Ya right. The carpeting had been glued down for so many years the floors had blackened. But, that's another story and I am having flashbacks of that monsterous sanding machine - probably the first ever invented - spitting out more sawdust..... more sawdust........ |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Hi, ya'all. Just checkin' in so I don't get too far behind in reading. Susan: You're in my prayers.Chris, ROTFWL -- but at the same time, feeling much sympathy. Ask me about the hornets nest sometime (not yet -- it's a long story). It's great to see the guys displaying their new wear -- they look so cuuuuute! PINK PINK PINK PINK ... my formal living room has pink (well more like kind of a rose salmon) furniture -- looks great -- it's a great color .... Sharon I adore your toolset! Serenity -- love this site and all the stories! [This message has been edited by iliana (06-12-2004 12:21 AM).] |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
I have a tool kit too, but the only thing I have in mine..well. Let's just say I'll never pound a nail with it! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I shall be SO back! |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Poet deVine -- LOL no ROTFWL ! |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
I WANT THAT PINK TOOLKIT!!!!! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Muted - Pink tool kit - ebay (of course!) Poet DeVine - too much data as my son would say Susan - Some of most wonderful presents come in the form of a complete surprise. They are even better when you are ready to deal with them I was not quite ready for mine, but I don't know what I would do without him now. I have thought about that decision years ago a lot, and sure think doing without a bit of my young adulthood was worth the sacrifice!Chris, Karen, Sharon (CKS, reminds me of TKO,)and has a nice ring to it, we could be home renovations experts on TLC maybe, NOT! CKS on TLC? Sounds good anyway. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*chuckle* I love the tool kit and yes, I should have known that you, Mysteria would have a tool kit that doubled as an accessory! I've had a couple of tool kits, but somehow, frown, my tools were always so accessible that they were acquisitioned by men. oh wow. Now that could be significant, huh? *wince* and I'd love to join in the fun here for longer, but guess what I did now? sigh. Well I lusted after the granite countertop, but I lost that battle, ladies and gents. and yes, I protested: "But, it's going to be the centerpiece of both the kitchen and the livingroom now--it has to be something special!" So I talked about a process of mosaic--damn me--ya'll know the stuff. Order extra floor tiles, crack the stuff, grout and seal? So the guys said, "you talk a good game, so you do it!" hrrrmph. So I put that tiara on that Mysteria sent me and went over there and hammered tile all night, and carefully constructed a lovely idea of a countertop. If I want that idea to be a reality, I have to get up early and go liquid nail and grout it in--it's either that, or the guys will never let me live it down. OH YEAH? Watch me make a muscle! ow.... (but it is looking lovely) and yes, I broke a nail. but hell, I had to cut them to practice my guitar in all this spare time I have anyway. *chuckle* I go sleep. I promise, good friends, an update soon. Tonight I sleep, for tomorrow? I kick ass! * * * OH. Ladies? just a little tip? If you want to find quick help at the hardware store? Wear a skirt and Chanel. and I swear, I'd completely forgotten about the tiara on me head! |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
"Perhaps you're wondering what I'm ranting about? I'm talking about house rennovations. Do you realize that statistics show that fifty percent of couples who rennovate a home get divorced before the rennovations are completed? That's looking very good to me about now. Forget about the house. I want my life rennovated." that is so true...I am a living example...26 years in this house and the last 4 left alone with the last of the supplies to do the final renovations were piled in my entranceway~~ By the way I decided to ceramic/clay tile my kitchen floor, counters, backsplash and island I made myself and it turned out very good although you will every now and then have to reseal your grout...If I can find my pictures later this morning will send some to you Karen. And Mysteria..I had to smile at your pink tool kit...at least that way you know which are yours when they get "borrowed" by another. well..so much for an early read...time to go back to bed. ~smiling~ Maureen |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen - YOU GO WOMAN !!! Sharon - I love your kitchen!!! It reminds me of a pastry shop....or icecream parlor! Ooooh, I would be hungry all the time if I lived there. A pink toolkit?!! How wonderful. Maureen - Good to see you here! Hugs! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
[I'll add more...soon] 03-06-2003 Remodeling There are all sorts of remodelings… we remodel lifestyles, homes, wardrobes… sometimes it’s imaginable that He has the most awesome job, in remodeling… Witnessed just such, today. Good week for an ice storm they all said… so Tuesday brought 45 degrees first thing in the morning, then the wind whipped a snip and flashed cold from the north 14 degrees…“arctic”, they said… how right they were. Drizzling fog came in and clung on to cars, trees, shrubs, walks, lines, us… anything that didn’t move, wouldn’t move for a day or so… I looked up overhead that afternoon to our squirrels’ nests above, wondering if the papa was inside, ju-jitsuing his doorway to the world… or if his escape hatch froze shut during a short afternoon nap… things like that, happen… everything stayed in the cold freeze until… today. Now, for the last few weeks, our home has been in the process of being remodeled… time, talent, backs, legs, and oceans of emotions have gone into decisions, colors, textures, schedules, trips to, from various stores for this, that, and other things… and it’s funny. We fall into that invariable trap of believing for a moment in time that we might control things. Which takes me back to this day. Looking through new windows that now surround my house, observations were made… ice that clutched to cottonwood’s limbs these last two days, had grasped and clasped it close, like a lover, now felt the switch and stitch of wind’s southerly movements, and Sun-denly 40 degrees glimmered lovely, warmly, loosening icy clasp and grasp as wind was kissed in balm, so in blush it rushed in glee scattering ice knives, remodeling trees… I heard my mate, who was not a squirrel, who could not hibernate, say… “Oh my God, I hope the windows will be ok…” there are all sorts of remodeling… some more spectacular than others… sometimes we even get to watch the remodeling of prayer, and thanksgiving. |
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Ron
Administrator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-05-19
Posts 8669Michigan, US |
I've remained quiet as long as humanly possibly, but no man should have to suffer blasphemy in such abject silence. Painting wood is bad. Everyone who has, at any time in their life, painted wood should cast their eyes to ground and appear contrite for a full thirty seconds. You have been bad, very bad, and it wasn't the right kind of bad. Look ashamed. Painting bricks, however, goes beyond bad. It is sacrilege. It is sorrow and horror and fright, all rolled into a single ill-conceived act of human conceit. Paint your lips if you must. Color your hair. Polish your nails and tattoo little illusions of nature on foliated stretches of hidden skin. But for the sake all held holy and right, leave the damn bricks alone! What did they ever do to you? Sigh. I can see it now. Karen will accidentally plant Cara Mia or Forever Young and, upon discovering their early summer buds blossoming in deep shadows of sultry red, will grab a spray can and paint all her roses a lovely Krylon white. It should match the nice, equally dead brick wall quite nicely. Far be it for me to ever put any ideas into some husband's head, but getting even is an art too many have apparently lost. By all means, Serene One, put your time and muscle and torn nails into finishing that lovely mosaic counter top. Just don't be surprised if you wake up some morning and find it painted a nice, shiny black. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
laughing at Ron's posting.... We spent years stripping our woodwork to let it's natural beauty show through... My neighbor wants to paint her bricks white, also..I just think to myself how much work that will continually be down the road as it peels and wears off unevenly. But "to each their own" or something like that... M |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Pout. Well I wouldn't paint the bricks, if somebody hadn't put NASTY vinyl siding over--you guessed it--WOOD!!! sigh. I toldja. I like wood. In fact, I've spent a lifetime encouraging it. and I'm rethinking the brick. I could just cover the whole thing with WHITE LATTICE and plant some climbing roses, huh? Or ivy.. or... *chuckle* I just hope the guys let me live. grin. I'm off now, to go liquid nail... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Oh lady of the hammer...Don't forget to let that stuff dry for 24 hours once you glue it down. I have actually done lots of that stuff in my day. Here is a little sampling of the girls and I making the table for their Mother for Mother's Day. She loved it (garage sale table, and my plates!)  Also helps to put a really good sealer on it when you are done too. On one countertop I did I actually put a liquid resin over it, and was "buzzed out" for two days after that LOL. Don't forget to open all windows |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
~* Kiss Her Tiara If You Don’t Mind? *~  ~*~ She sits not upon a throne of gold, But one carved from tears and sweat. Her scepter holds no precious jewels, But is it genuine? You bet! The biggest stone in her crown, Is a soul that shines so bright. It’s framed with baguettes of humour That warm her friends each night.  It twinkles of intelligence, eloquence, Her love of mankind, and that “itch” To write about the goodness of a human spirit, Would you believe that of any witch? Nothing will ever bend her tiara, Its strength comes from real life. She’s had too long, a sad journey, Through childhood, then mother, and wife. If ever there was a deserving Princess, Our sweet Serenity you are one. Look how far you’ve come baby, Just look what you have done! For some reason you fail to see yourself, In the light we all see you now, An accomplished, complete woman, A Princess fitting for a tiara, and how! So when you think, royalty and tiara, Kiss her tiara if you don’t mind, She’s earned a place upon that throne, As royalty of the most genuine kind. To: A “Tard” Princess On Her Birthday! From: So Grateful To Call You ~ Friend! All the schooling in the world won't teach you what listening to one person will. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Sharon..such a beautiful and loving poem~~ |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
There once was a great writer named Karen Whose fine work and journal she'd be sharin' New Orleans was home to this lady Her voice famous in grand places and shady. Serenity's potions were true And if she cast eyes on you - You'd feel "gleeee" from infant to eighty! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dear, dear Karen, your utterly unpretentious and caring heart, has given me smiles through tears at least a zillion times. What a blessing! Happy Birthday Luv. May only your good dreams come true. Chrislane |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Geez...ya know how long it took me to find someplace where I could be the first to say it??? And I'm still not first... Oh well, anyway... !!!!!!!!!!!HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAREN!!!!!!!!!!!! Here's some puppy slobbers and stuff... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Hey Duncan! YOU m'man are first on THIS PAGE Brave aren't you, came in here like a "real man" to stand up with us girls. |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Happy birthday, Karen...you are an inspiration to many and me! |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
Happy birthday! XD I love you! |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Thanks Sharon...fortunately no one asked me to pee in a cup at the door. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
Happy Birthday Karen |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I want to thank you all, for the loveliness of finding this all here waiting for me. Because? I'm going to go finish that counter tomorrow. And then? I have another to do...and yes--a backsplash wall too, which I've already eyed up, and decided it will be tricky, but well worth it. It took me a half hour to get the liquid nail off of my fingers. I hate gloves. There are just certain tricky pieces that need a finger's fondle to toddle into place-- and besides? Liquid Nail? is prolly the best chemical peel I've come across. Hmmm. grn? If I'm still here in the morn? I may well have succombed to the urge to try it on me arse... shrug. My hands look GOOD. Thank you all for the b'day gleeeeeeee. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
And Ronnie Baby? For a b'day present? For me, Maree, and iliana? do I dare suggest? (I do--I do!) That you become the third male member of the tiara club? grin...I've seen worse on cowboy hats... c'mon...say yes... I think it will set off that sparkle in yer eye... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Surely he'll acquiesce? Karen... I think you already know, inherently, some of my thoughts and feelings... so I'll clean up Duncan's slobber... and let you get back to finishing your work. But... I AM working on a little story. After all, you leave little presents for us most every day...and that's the best I can think, to leave behind, for you... I'll be back. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I should explain. I have a hard time with birthdays. Those are the days I take "inventory." I wish I could wear fringe on my b'days, and bat me lashes and sing boop-boop-de-doop. But this is my "inventory" day, and I always come up short. I don't like 'em much. But then? I'm the sorta woman who is willing spend the next day of her life fitting in the missing pieces of her mosaic counter top, and call it "sweet" when she finds that elusive piece--even if it means I take a hammer and tap off the tip of a chip to make it fit. Shrug. It's not so bad. I get a real kick out of finding just that right piece...... so, for my birthday? I'd like you all to go out and find that thing that makes you feel like that. Then come here and tell me about it. k? K. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
 There's a beautiful Goddess in N'awlins and today being HER special day.. To perhaps don her titanium tiara And celebrate this ?? Birthday!  Now she may say that she's too tard to celebrate with bouncing gleeeeee But when she sees us all come a callin' For her scepter I know she will flee.  Enjoy your birthday sister Serenity Play your guitar and perhaps sing da blues You've started this journal for all to share May I take this moment to say 'thank you'!  Happy Birthday Karen!!~Love ya Lady~ |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Oooh!! Oooh! I do! I did! Hi Ser!! Hope you are having an awesome day. I found something not to-day, but yesterday that made me feel just like that! At of all places, a garage sale! Garage sale, yard sale, whatever ya'll call them. Anyway, it called out to me in a tiny voice from a cluttered table..."please, please buy me." Amongst all the other odds and ends this lady had for sale, was a brand new little blue note paper box with butterflies all over it. No, not real butterflies! Painted ones. It is by Chicken Soup for the Soul. It opens up like a book and inside is loose note paper with butterflies printed along the border. Just what I needed to jot down my thoughts (yes I do have them from time to time) instead of scrap paper! Oh joy! Oh bliss! Oh only seventy-five cents! GLEEEEE !! On the front of this pretty little book/box is printed- Gifts to Give all Year Long Express your gratitude, Share an experience and offer hopefulness. Listen. Find the funny side of a situation. As I read this I got a chill as this is what we do here at Passions. I held my tiny treasure to my chest, my eyes flitting to my left...to my right.... Run! Run Chrislane to the lady taking customers money!! Whew! Made it. And that's what made me smile and say "Sweeeeeet." Happy Birthday!! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
my heart, my heart... and yes, Chris, that's what I hope for...and Nance? I know we can sing together, tell me? do you take the lows or highs? (I wanna practice for the day we meet.) |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Karen, if you get a chance show us a picture..even if unfinished..being crafty myself, I would love to see how it is turning out. I am like you and rarely have celebrated a birthday...today we celebrate my Mother's while over my sister's. One being 80 and the other soon to end at 61. It is hard to celebrate but my sister's husband thinks it has its merits. I made Marcia laugh in remembering the way our mother use to bake a weekly family cake for the five of us. She would make a marble cake and ice one third in vanilla with chocolate jimmies...remember when they were called that? and the next third was iced in chocolate with colored sprinkled dots and the the last was left uniced...because I never liked icing. So last evening despite my "lack of balance" I baked and iced a cake to take down...hoping to bring a smile to both of their faces. Have a wonderful day after~ M |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Lady Maureen? I remembered your b'day. sort of. (Tell me it was the tenth?) and I want you all to know, this lady is the QUEEN of PURTY... I still gotta have one of dem candlesticks... she's amazing, folks. smile. NOW YOU? POST PICS |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Heh birthday girl....I am a Moonchild...the 26th is mine...and it is coming soon enough If I can I will get my brother-in-law to take a picture later this afternoon... I am a bit dizzy of late ... no jokes please and am having enough trouble just getting dressed. So I will get back to you.later~~ M |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
understood. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
So, for Serenity’s birthday, some birthday giggles and commiserations…and sort of an answer to serenity’s request of finding the little pieces… [don’t worry, they’ll sort of fall out all over the place…those that know, will understand…] December, 2002, hubby decided we needed to move. Long story short, the house he wanted was a money pit – but we only found out once we got INSIDE the house. OUTSIDE the house, where the falls fell in loud liquidity, I fell in love with the area. But, since we didn’t buy the house, because of its many pitfalls, I still realize, I can visit the area, anytime, and I will. After all, I still live in the area. So by January 2003, he, being re-tard! desperately needed a project. So, after a full month of January house-looking, he decided we’d stay put, but remodel! And it’s oh so true…if you can live through a remodeling, you can live through anything. And knowing the bent of our egos, I said, “fine”…AND…”do it your way”. Now, I had great faith in that last statement, because the guy DOES have an eye for interior decorating, color, style, flair, the whole nine yards, and after all…I just “live” here. But I DID have a few requests. Wood floors. And a new stove. [Oh, I so wish I lived in a house with the appropriate gas lines, but no…so I appreciate your new gas stove, Serenity – it’s how I grew up, learning to cook on one…but I have to abide by electric…] Well, we dis-cussed the wood floor idea…and I got wood in the kitchen, dining, one bedroom and my office. We did everything but move a wall. IF I could have moved a wall, it would have been the west one that faces the backyard. I would have moved the entire backside of the house out about 4-5 feet. But that exceeded HIS budget. [I told him, since he was using MY money, he could use more of it…but no…he was exceeding tight with his budget coming from my pennies.] Anyway…we did “the whole nine yards”…new windows, new carpet, new wood floors, new paint, and as we went through this process which he micromanaged [and told our Houston friends that he would have everything done under two months’ time – which they held up to a bet…and they lost…] well, some ideas were thrown in. First of all, my request for a new stove was “thrown out”. So I was telling my Houston friends what was incoming, and what was not going…and they decided to help by nagging himself about the new stove. Heh… As the process was ongoing, so were decisions. I have tennis elbow from picking up the phone at work, hearing of the “new idea” in-between “already made decisions” and “not-yet-quite-applied-action”. Then, of course, as ideas changed, colors changed, moods were altered by the wearing of emotions… …and at the very last, AFTER the new tile was installed on the kitchen counters [instead of getting the marble top I wanted…well, shoot, he ASKED…] THAT was when our Houston friends finally wore my husband’s resistance down and he went out and got me a new electric, glass-topped stove. It was ordered, and delivered, and the delivery guys took the old stove, and off they went.The fellows that had put in the new kitchen [wood] floor said, yea, they would help with the installation of the stove… Which didn’t fit. Uh-oh. ~*~ Now…this is not the whole story…[some brick talk is involved as well…and I’m putting it in JUST for Ron…] But for now? I need to go River Fest…so I’ll be back…with another present for Serenity’s birthday… |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
I bought a bassinet yesterday. My birthday is also in June. When I was a kid I loved June. First day of summer, no school and my birthday. I used to run around telling everyone, "All good people are born in June." This year is a "decade" birthday. Some higher power knew I was having a bit of a hard time with that. That higher power has a great sense of humor. I still love June. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
June IS good! Various terrific people were born June 13th. I have compared them to you, and picked out various qualities that depict aspects of your personality from their famous quotes (what's that - too much time on my hands you say?) . Well Karen, this is how I happen to see you, and these qualities you share with these famous people are:Humor: 1953 - Tim Allen (comedy/acting) "While awaiting sentencing, I decided to give stand-up comedy a shot. The judge had suggested I get my act together, and I took him seriously." Wisdom: 1623 - Baise Pascal (1623) (check the name?)(mathematics/philosophy) "The least movement is of importance to all nature. The entire ocean is affected by a pebble." Honesty: 1926 - Paul Lynde (comedy/acting) "I believe in honesty, not frankness but honesty, and there's a mighty difference ... I despise any kind of hypocrisy." Acceptance/Non-judgemental: 1893 - Dorothy Sayers (writing) "As I grow older and older And totter towards the tomb I find that I care less and less Who goes to bed with whom." Strength: 1731 - Martha Washington (married George Washington) "The greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not our circumstances." Trustworthy Friend: 1865 - William Butler Yeats "Think where man's glory most begins and ends, And I say my glory was I had such friends." Now on this day I shall tell you the most important thing I found as I have indeed brought it in here to endear, and that was opening my Passions blue pages, to find you have spoken in them m'friend, that is what I found today that is precious to me. Again, I hope you dance in the garbage today, and love every second of it. |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Serenity -- SEIZE the day! lol, I understand how you feel about birthdays and do the same sort of thing with sorting. I did find a great piece yesterday, maybe someday I'll talk about it. Yes, RON, please please........now that would be a treat! But, Chris, I am clipping the piece you found! and shared with Karen -- what a wonderful gift! Nancy Lee -- enchanting poem.....you do the most delightful things! Sunshine & Serenity -- I want a gas stove, too -- maybe for my BD next year, oh well. Have fun at RiverFest, Karilea. Happy Birthday again, Serenity. Also, Birthday Greetings to Susan Caldwell, Sharon, and Duncan, isn't your birthday coming up, too? And, to anybody else I missed.....I'm just full of birthday wishes this morning.....no poems, no stories, just wishes.... |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
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misao Member
since 2003-11-08
Posts 50 |
gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee yanno? He's a natural. What a birthday present! thank you Devine One! and thank you Ron, for handling my lunacy with such grace. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
sigh...when the cat's away, the mice will play... didn't notice that my cookies crumbled until now... sheesh. My mom just called to wish me a happy birthday, and I asked if it was okay if I crawl back in and we try again. Yanno? She never answered me. I wonder if that means it's a possibility? Prolly not, huh? smile. I'm off to go work again folks. thanks for the joy and feel good huggles... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Now look what I found at the River Fest... a little Serenity, tending her garden... Happy Birthday, Karen...  |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Oooooooh,now that's a handsome hat you're a'wear Ron. Thank you for your great sense of humor (and everything else you do to keep us happy)! Karen, I hope not only for your mother's sake, but ours, that your mama tells you no this time! heheheheh [This message has been edited by iliana (06-13-2004 08:20 PM).] |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
No Karen you may not go back! We love ya here and now! Hope you're enjoying your day girl. Ron...what can I say...you look so handsome.. sort of like.. um, the rhinestone cowboy??!! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ron, I must say, your tiara looks like it was made for your hat!! Honestly. Oh, Serenity mentioned "cookies crumbling" and now I am craving a peanut butter, chocolate chunk one ... or two... |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Just saying Happy Birthday...again... Love you, K... |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
TestosteroneTiara the First bids you happy birthday and dont you be woikin to damn hard.. (I know you race...just EASY PLEASY?) love seeing you proud and watch those cookie crumbles Miss Ow grin this whole group is amazing you all make me smile when I come here |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Oh Karen....You Hoooooooooo.....check your email when you get the chance. Thanks bunches. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Chris? I'm working on getting to that--and I'd like to say to all that I have been so crazed lately, that if I don't answer e mails or offlines, it's not that I don't care, I'm trying here, and and right now I'm having one of my infamous meltdowns. I'm beyond tard--I understand my Dad's phrase of "dead dog tard" completely now. I was going to take a break for awhile, but I feel like I get such a lift from all of the love and support from you all that I think I'd curl up and die without it. you all rejuvenate me...so I'll be around. I think I just need a day or two of couch patrol. and yes, gawd I love this place... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen, well now, you just get some rest then. We don't want ya'll dog tard and lookin' like a limp dish rag! No rush on a reply to my letter. Hush now little baby don't say a word, Nightshade's gonna buy you a ...  |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Perhaps I'll leave a story, for your return...because I know, I surely know, that after being dead dog tard, there's nothing better than a good story... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ummm...hello?  ....anybody home? Kinda spooky... Hellooooooooo? Must be all sleepin' shhh.. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Shhhh....Chris....I don't know about everyone else, but the lights do seem a little low - so much to do in the summertime... me? I'm getting my desk cleared so I can leave on Sunday for a week in Colorado Springs. Yes, taking camera - packed. Yes, taking notebook - check! Yes, going to listen to the voices of the Rockies... maybe I'll "bump" into John Denver...for I think his spirit still hovers... shhhhh.... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Shhh....be very, very quiet. Colorado Springs?!! Ooooooh Yippeeeeeee Yahooooooo......ooops...shhhhhhhh. Seems you have everything checked....except ME !!!!!!!!!! I won't take up much room....or eat too much...or make too much noise...or pee the bed....I promise!! PLEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASE?!! SHHHHHHHH!! Oh, now you've made me wake someone up....I can hear them coming!! Hide me....it might be my sister!!by the way....I did what you requested...made Bella speak, or I tried I should say...lol. Have a great trip Karilea! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I grouted my tile tonight. I grouted me experiemental mosaic tile counter top and I got the biggest compliment that I cold ever hope for-- Mike, our carpenter, smiled and said, "Droplights. That needs droplights." Then he called me Picasso. sweet "all I'm askin', is for a little respect..." (serenity exits, doing a rooster strut...) and I lied. OW. No rooster strut. Just a smile from here to...you. nite folks. love to all... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Hey Karen and all. I'm sorry that I missed your party. I wrote you a poem and everything, too. I'll send it to you in an email. Don't forget that I love ya'll. Okay? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Photos. We need Photos... speaking of photos - I, [see me kneeling to God here] was fortunate enough to get mine ALL back...[I've got to take more computer classes...] Can't WAIT to see the mosaic, m'dear... so when you've done your strutting, rooster or otherwise, photo, please.... |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Please post some pictures Karen... Karilea, have a great time. I want to thank those who know my situation or rather that of my sister's right now. I won't be on here for the next week or however long...I am returning my mother to Tennessee( driving) on Saturday and then driving back home to pack and stay with my sister during the week days or more if needed. Even though there is a computer there, it isn't mine so I won't be on it. Not sure about length of time or anything, so if I am absent long, I hope all of you stay well. Maureen |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
We're all keeping you in our hugs, Maureen... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen - good for you!! Pics Please. Maureen - Drive carefully and please know that you and your sister are in my thoughts and prayers. Keep in touch if you can. hugs. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
My friends, please keep me in your prayers and thoughts. (I know that you all are) Just call this an unspoken request. Okay? Maybe one day I will be able to allow myself to share it all. But for now, just don't forget to KEEP me in your thoughts and prayers. Love and hugs, Ethel |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
There's so much going on with so many of our poet friends-please know that you are all in my thoughts and prayers. And yes, pics will be in the offering. Um...as soon as it is DONE. (It may take that long for me to figure out my camera anyhow.) Hugs, prayers, and sheesh. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Ethel Mae? What's up my friend? Till you can tell us ... you know darn well that you are in our prayers! Take heart dear lady. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Check your mail, little gary's girl... |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
OMG!!! |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Poet -- Duncan......really? ROTFWL!!!! Sunshine -- have a safe trip.....my daughter's in Aspen at the Music Festival -- so I guess next week two of my favorite gals will be in CO! Maureen, hang in there, sweet lady. Prayers are sent your way. Serenity -- I've been to seen Twisted and now I'm hooked. I'll be waiting to see your pics all done up in tubes!!! lol |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Thanks...really. (Why didn't anyone TELL me about this???) |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Dunc...you have to ask!? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I always knew he had a cute butt! Welcome to the club, Dunc! |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Thanks K...I'm so proud. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Hey...Duncan Duncan bo bunkin' banana fanna fo funkin' .. Duncan!!!! Sorry....just felt like singin a little ditty today. Anywhooooo....Welcome Duncan. I tip my tiara to you. hugs, Chris |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Looks like Poetdevine has a snapshot album that I would LOVE to get into - there have to be more tiara boys in that book? Chris, seems I am following you around in here today, shall we just hold hands and post a duet comment? LOL. Who put the bomp in the bomp she bomp she bomp indeed! |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
I'll post a lot of them...as long as you aren't too particular about the REALITY of the pic... Duncan - that baby just seems to be the way I thought you'd look....that devilish grin...that cute tight little behind.... |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
As you know, our resident Balladeer has always had a thing for 'bugs'...but did you know he also loves his TIARA!!!  |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Ahahahaaaa!! It's Baby Bug..so cute in his new tiara!! Welcome to the club 'Deer! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh now, PdV...you don't think 'Deer's been in here reading, do you? I haven't seen wing nor web of him? LOL... |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Now ladies (and gents) let me tell you the tale of Toe and the Tiara. It seems our rascal Toerag has a secret. Whenever he takes off his shoes and socks, you can see the REAL man behind the Toe. With a ring on one toe (in remembrance of a lost love) and teardrops painted on each nail, Toe proudly wears HIS tiara on his big toe.  |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Welcome Duncan!! You sure were a cute little thing in DeVine Sharon's eye.... Ohhhhh Deer....come see your picture.... Love your bugs.... HeeHee!! |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
ahahahahaha Hey TOOOOEEEEE!!!! gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Welcome Balladeer and Toerag!! ROFL !!!!  |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
You realize of course now I want a tiara for MY toe right? Yes I do, I do! We have started something - Tiara Toe Tags Inc. is there no end to our wisdom? |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Baby bug.......ROTFWLl! Toe Tieras, now that's an idea, Sharon -- I like that! Welcome, Toe....Welcome Deer! Chris, now I'm going to go to bed singing that song in my head. lol |
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Toerag Member Ascendant
since 1999-07-29
Posts 5622Ala bam a |
A fine tiara at that...gotta shed that rag more often...lOL |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Toe, I like that Toe ring, too. LOL |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Never let it be said that I can't poke fun at myself too...  |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
OMG Sharon...you are a hoot...  These are priceless!! My mascara is running down my cheeks. Now...who shall be next? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
shaking my head at my angel bookend Sharons. Thank you, both of you, for the joy you've added here, making this is a haven for much needed smiles. Yep. I've heard angels do stuff like that, too. Hmm. I'd suspected that of you both all along... I go "do-do" now. I'll have to dream a story tonight. Happy Father's Day to our Pipdads. (And Happy Father's day to many of our Pip MOTHERS too--there are a few here and manage both jobs, quietly and without complaint.) And here's a happy father's day gift to Ron: We have decided on cherry trim. That's right. LOTSA woodwork. smile. I just told the guys show me the grain and I won't complain... and grin? I get to watch THEM work next week! nite my good poet people, for tomorrow I must grout. *tired but happy smile* |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I'm looking forward to this next week - have some good feelings about tromping around Colorado Springs. You ladies and gents keep things going around here - I expect a lot of good reading when I get home.In return? Lots of good poems and stories, I hope... Happy Father's Day, guys...it really WAS worth everything you went through... and Serene one? Well, you know. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
no sleep no sleep no sleep sigh. That seems a trivial complaint in light of recent times, but it is what it is, and it is annoying... But let me wipe the grump off of my face long enough to welcome my buddies, Balladeer and Toerag to the Tiara Club. They've always been royalty to me. So hugs. And sharon? I like yer style lady! Cuddle hugs.And Kari, please remember what I said about trips--even the bad ones can make a good story. So either way, we'll be expecting a tale from you. Stay safe, sunshine. More hugs to you. * * * Last night, my son couldn't sleep. Which meant of course, that I couldn't sleep. It seems there was a Megadeath video marathon on, and I was treated to a private concert until about three in the morning. Then the power went out. I was grateful and said the proper thanks to the "higher" power--until I heard my son pick up his guitar and begin his own "unplugged" version of the rock show. I am here to testify that the old "parents curse" of "I hope someday you have one just like you" actually works. But since it was an unplugged electric (That Jackson I told ya'll about) I figgered I could deal with it--so I just put my pillow over my head and tried the sleep thang again. Then it got hot. At least I think it got hot. I'm at that hormone stage where I have to ask other people if it's hot "or is it just me?" It wasn't just me. Everybody woke, and about dawn, gratefully, the power was restored--just in time for my neighbor's rooster to start boasting about his job. sigh. And last night was another bad med night for the hubby. I think I mentioned that when I'm ill, I think of myself like a dog, in that I would rather crawl under a porch and suffer alone. My husband is not like that in the least. He needs to talk through it. (I think I just figured out when & why he started talking so much.) So...I wearily unlocked my pc for him (his being temporarily retired) and directed him to ebay, saying, "Here. Browse. Dream. Buy yourself a Father's Day Gift. Just please be quiet while you do." He wasn't of course. But he did pick up a tenth row ticket for a show to see a band I can't recall. Bleary... Now that's a good name for a band...and quite apt considering the quality of some of the music I've heard lately. But anyhoo...some of ya'll know I'm a close friend of Mysteria's--smile--isn't everybody? And if you know Mysteria well, and talk to her on IM--then you know that much like myself, she has a tendency to start conversations in the middle, just assuming that you will know what the hell she is talking about. Therefore, I get some pretty strange offline messages from her--and she from me. (Ya'll should eavesdrop on our phone conversations, especially on three-way with PdV--secret smile and wicked grins.) But there is a certain poem I once posted that caused no small amount of fascination for our ever curious kitty Mysteria. That poem prompted this offline query: "What color is your Jesus?" huh? So I shrugged and typed back, "Um, 'my' Jesus is spirit, and therefore has no color." "Not that Jesus!" She was roaring with laughter in Canada. "Jesus, the MOUSE." So now, to keep you up with the story, please indulge me while I repost my poem (which is another true serenity story) entitled: just because he startled me catching me quite unaware each time I lit the stove "JEEEEEEEEEEZUS!" I would thus proclaim as he scurried from my grill-- this happened once too frequently my exclamation stayed the same so "Jesus" is what he is named-- accidentally. He appeared for every meal sputtering of smoke and heat tiny rodent paw to mouth choking on the smoke beady eyes accusing me I scolded him "We have to eat!" and pointed out the obvious he must be indulging too, he nodded, waiting patiently for his home to cool. He grew accustomed to my voice He slowed in his retreat. I swore I saw the curious as he turned to look at me. Once I left him a snap bean because he likes them fresh. I turned my back and it was gone, I calmly smothered down the rest thinking surely I'm insane. I thought I'd try some reasoning as I reached for seasoning to add into my pot of beans-- "Jesus? I know you are there, so listen to me please. I cannot live with rodent hair accumulating in my stove. It's just not good for you or me-- and you know, the door's right there. So spare us both the agony and go back to your family." Jesus didn't answer me. So I shrugged it off. Next day following I spied Jesus brave enough to stay in the midst of kitchen tile as I brewed my morning juice of "get up and go". "This has gone on way too long-- look at YOU--you're spoiled and fat. Some might take you for a slob-- you should at least look for a job and go out on your own." Jesus simply blinked at me. I resolved to end this soon. My daughter ran to me one day, proclaiming most excitedly, "I saw Jesus, way up CLOSE!" She informed me he is cute. I nodded, saying yes I knew. But I know just what I know-- that Jesus has his followers... Worried we'd be over-run, I talked of poison packages death without the blood. Then my son did interject, and pointed out the Judas fate, and asked me most mischievious, "Cooking a last supper, mom?" I paled and thought, "not me." So now I'm in this quandary in need of some advice. I thought I'd buy a trap humane (knowing such does not exist) pondering complicity of differences 'tween mice and men-- I realized that all is vast-- and yet I think there's no small thing-- the sacred looms voluminous by virtue of remaining hid. * * * Now please understand that I meant no offense to anyone's beliefs by the posting of my story, it just happened to be what happened. And I had to fill you in, because it leads to the recent offlines I have received from Mysteria/sharon that simply ask: "Whatever happened to Jesus?" tsk. Now Mysteria knows darned well the fate of the little mouse (who is brown by the way) and she once dared me to write a follow up poem revealing his fate to all. But I ain't in a poetical type mood--but I think I can now share with you all the end of the story. Enough time has passed and enough things have changed. If you've been following, then you know that my family is living in one house while renovating another. (Did I finally spell that right?) Now. It just so happened that the washer and the dryer here went kaput and we have been hauling laundry to the other house for about two years now. And yes, let's just say since the other house was unoccupied, it was indeed used for storage. And some of those things stored were...well of questionable legality. *wince* (a little pot, on a tray, under the couch) It's gone folks, so don't go looking for it now. * * * Now I have a battled a few mice invasions in my time (every year we've lived here in fact--every fall the city cuts the field in the park behind our house, and yep, every winter the homeless former field mice come running for cover.) So every fall, I go through the ritual of the poison packets. (I know, I know, I don't like doing it, but hey? I don't go setting up camp in thier home, now do I?) Well. Not lately. Sheesh. But I did know it was just a matter of time before we inadvertantly hauled one of our guests off to become a city mouse by virtue of the laundry hamper. Sure enough, that's exactly what happened. Not only did it happen that way, but in that amazing serenity synchronicity, I happened to be at the other house, doing laundry and telling an animal loving friend about my plight of mice, and how I accidently named my buddy Jesus, and what in heaven's name was I supposed to do about that? Whereupon, he said, "Let me guess. This guy jesus? He's small, brown, furry, pink ears?" Uh huh. "He just went THATTAWAY!" And sure enough, I saw him skitter under the washer (that same washing machine formerly in the kitchen). Now you'd think that would be enough of a story for anyone, right? But noooooooooooooo... Keep in mind, this is my weird life, and it had to play out the quirks of Karenity. (Thanks for that tag, wranx--smooches) But that night, Jesus got away, and we calmly did our laundry and went home, with our animal loving friend much amused as he disapproved strongly of my poison technique of rodent control. * * * The following evening, my husband phoned me from the "other" house--then our laundromat, saying: "You're not going to believe this." sigh. Try me. "Well," he said, "I was going to watch a dvd in the front room, and thought maybe I'd try some of that old imported tobacco we had left over." mmm hmm. "So I reached under the couch, and talk about 'freak me out'! The baggie MOVED!" oh my. Yes. It's true. Inside the "glad" bag, was one brown mouse, quite docile and quite wasted. The husband informed me that the little mouse was in fact, so mellow, that he allowed my husband to pick him up without a struggle, whereupon he was released outside unharmed. * * * Now it's true, I can't be sure that it was my old stove mouse "Jesus", but I'd like to think that it was him. So rest assured, those of you who worried--Jesus does live. He got away! He just got stoned first. * * * (And no offense meant, so I hope there is none taken.) If there is, blame Mysteria. grin. She made me tell this one. * * * Here's hoping for a much needed smile for her on this day. (She needs it today, folks.) Lub ya canuck. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Karen....you are a joy!!!! |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Hmmm!  I got a card from a mouse named Elsie, And here is what she said, “I heard from my cousin Ernie, Karenity thought our Jesus dead?" "Actually here’s what really happened To Jesus on that fateful day, He up and left Karen’s stove, It was a Sunday night, they say."  "With a giggle he coerced her dog To give him and his buds a ride. They set out on a big adventure, Sitting upon his flea-infested hide." "Well you know our pal Jesus? After "her" house, he got really bored, Some say he then hopped a butterfly, Went to search for himself and the Lord!"  That wild Jesus has settled down, Lives in a country clock today.  He’s got a wife, 3 kids, dog, and a cat, Another little mousekin on the way." "Every once in a while he reminisces, 'Bout his great old days in N’Arlins, He pulls out a tiny little plastic bag, Laughs, then simply starts to grin."  "He starts swinging from the flowers, Shouting, "Serenity, I'm free!" Singing at the top of his lungs, Let it be, Let it be, Let it be!" "Start where you want to finish!" Feel free to quote me, I may become famous. |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Awwwwww how cute is that???? Good job Sharon!!! I'm loving it. Compassion is the heart and integrity is the soul of excellence. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Awwww...this is adorable Sharon! I'm so pleased to see that Jesus lives! You are very creative and I'm sure Ser will be glad to hear this story!! |
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Seymour Tabin Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720Tamarac Fla |
Sharon, You are a delight. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Awwwwwww .... I am so happy to hear that Jesus is doing just fine. I can go to bed with my mind at ease now. Thanks Sharon!! |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
Even Jesus needs a high, sorry 'ascencion'. grins thanks for sending me this, after a day with dear old dad need the laughs |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Yup! And lots of 'em. If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
You know Larry I was thinking about you today, off and on. I try to not think about Fathers on Fathers Day, except for my great son, but I did think of you. I was hoping you were getting lots of much needed and deserved hugs. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Smiling so wide here... Mysteria? Thank YOU for returning the smile--I think I lost mine in the grout today and needed it badly. and giggles to Raph too, "ascended" was indeed my standard response, too. *shaking my head again* Who needs fiction with a life like this? Hugs all. I love you all. |
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HopeS Member Elite
since 2000-12-22
Posts 4596Perth Western Australia |
Sharon this was delightful and ohhhh so cute Hope |
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Toerag Member Ascendant
since 1999-07-29
Posts 5622Ala bam a |
Very cute write....loved it...even toerags need some chuckles now and then....thanks |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Day 1..... With Dignity Right on the tip of my tongue those thoughts that hold my heart in hurt, my eyes seeing the pain, struck by the lack of breath, filling up with sadness tears... It's how it is, her hands "doing" what isn't there to do, "feeling" what isn't there to feel, as I try not to do and feel for her, dignity still suspending the need that regresses one from adult to childhood. She lacks control. I lack power. Both, parallel journeys. Each having their own pain. ~~~~ |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Sharon, I had a wonderful Father's Day. Though my son and I managed a lengthy and unsuccessful phone tag game. I don't think you know of a boy we had in the '90's. He turned sixteen the week he moved in and left shortly after his eighteenth birthday. His dad committed suicide when Andy was only five. He was pretty much on a throw away path. It truly is a long story and quite eventful even after he moved in with us. Anyway he is married and this was his first Father's Day as a daddy. He called me and was thrilled to be the first son to wish me a Happy Father's Day! He's pretty special and quite a surprise. I spent the evening writing the Prologue and Epilogue for my project Assignment's From My Daughter. Though I find much satisfaction in the project it did drain me. You know I'm not real long winded on paper(well usually). Regardless I burned up 5,000 words last night in no time. I should send it to you to critique. Bear minimum I hope to desktop publish it as a book. Just dreaming. And thank you sweet friend for remembering me. Nancy and I were speaking of you on Father's Day. Makes me smile...and tear up too, guess I better go. If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Maureen, that is truly the most poignant thing I've ever read from you--completely without pretense and heart wide open. The frustration of helplessness, the fury of lack of control...m'lady, you are handling this with such grace and dignity and STRENGTH. smile. I know that sounds funny considering how weary you must feel. People call me strong all the time and I laugh. I cry like a baby--sometimes several times a day. So I'd like to request permission to ask for a tiarra for you. A mere token perhaps, but I'd like to convey my respect for you. And besides? When you get a tiara pic? You also get all the chablis you can drink. Love you lady, and remember always, that I'm here for you to rant and rage or just a cup of coffee (caffeine free? my nerves are fried) * * * Now you, my sweet buddy Larry, I didn't forget you either. The holidays are always so rough. Please know my heart is with you. * * * Yesterday was the first holiday that passed that I didn't remember my Dad with a memorial post. It was also the first time that I didn't climb into a bottle of whiskey and scream my outrage at the injustice of it all. I'm not saying I didn't cry--I cried plenty. But I kept on working. Some who stopped to see me yesterday my mistook my tears for exhausttion and resentment of taking on a difficult task. Some was that, perhaps, but alot of it was just the loss I felt--he would be here cheering me on--and then I felt a sense of, well, serenity, as I imsgined that somehow, somewhere, in some form I can't fathom, that my father was there, quiet but smiling proud. And that was his way, as he didn't say much. But every now and then when he was really proud of me, he would squeeze my shoulder. Yanno? It may sound hokey, but I feel a little tender there today. I love you Dad, and carry your blood and your pride inside of me, and loving you the way that I do, I feel more responsible about taking care of me as I understand profoundly now that I carry YOU beneath my skin. Continuity. (So you can stop telling me to "slow down"-grin--you'd be working twice as hard as I, and you know it.) Thanks forum...and thanks Dad, for being there for me yesterday. I felt you. |
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GG Member Elite
since 2002-12-03
Posts 3532Lost in thought |
Hey people. yes, yes, I know, I don't know you all. Er, okay, I don't know most of you. But? deal with it! Been reading, but don't have the time I want to post the replies I want in all the forums lately... And since I know most I have directed this at read here, I thought I'd post. So, Maureen? Larry? All of you going through these hard times right now (many, many more then I could list. But if you're in a struggle then know I'm talking to you)... I just want to let you know you're in my thoughts, and... Hang in there. Always, Alyssa Poems are made by fools like me, |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Thank you Karen, for being you~~~ Make sure that tiara is tilted a bit..until I get my life squared away Alyssa, I know you struggle, too and I thank you for your caring words, always. Maureen |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Okay....okay....did I mention sawdust awhile ago in a post I did about renovations? Well.....IT'S BAAAAAAAAACK!! My hubby and I decided that this week being his holidays, and the weather naturally being yucky (ever seen a Harley rider on vacation with the rain pouring down outside on top of his newly washed and polished bike?).....we thought..."let's take apart the kitchen and paint the cupboards and drawers white!" Seemed like a good idea at the time. Enter hubby, upset about the weather and brandishing an electric sander. No....no...please...please do the sanding outsi....RRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!! Shades of Leatherface!!! Better to just let him be. Most of the boxed items can be dusted off anyway. As for the donuts I bought for a happy painting day snack....well, the sawdust does look abit like cinnamon sugar.So, here we are in day two of what has become a marathon remodelling holiday. The sun has decided to peek out briefly and hubby's friends kindly have sped by one too many times on their hogs, slowing down by our driveway littered with paint cans, rollers, brushes, drop sheets(could have used them in the house..duh), and an assortment of sanders in different sizes. Oh....I failed to mention my sudden dislike for extension cords. Snakes...winding their way through my house, tripping me up and tempting my pup to bite through and nearly electrify herself. Ah yes....remodelling....he has just informed me "If you don't like them when we are finished darlin'.....we will just rip them out and get new ones professionally installed." WHAT?!!! Excuse me while I go outside and scream for a few moments.  |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
I'm not sure I can keep track. Alyssa, you are a dear. I think I'd make a pretty good surrogate dad. Wanna be a daddy's girl? Karen, I love your musings about your dad and your connection to him. Thanks for that. You made this lonely dad feel pretty good. Again I stand in awe, shaking my head, enjoying every second I get to be with you... M, I'm quite sure you know how much I love your tenderness and insight. But I'll tell you again you touch me with your writing. Chris, I'm about to buy a brand new home and you're scaring the crap out of me. But since my commute is going from 2 miles to 35 miles I'm buying a cruiser bike to make up for it. So the house feels like a secondary thing to me. If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Chris? Smiling at your sawdust here. I say, if you've got sawdust, then it doesn't take much more to have a frigging circus! sigh. We're sanding SHEETROCK now. um. THEY are sanding sheetrock. (and actually, I don't mind when they do--grin--gives me an excuse to quit working the GROUT!!!) Hugs to all. I go put in another day tomorrow. Hmmm. Maybe someday I will be able to REALLY make a muscle. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
quote: Damn it, that made me tear up but then i'm an emotional mess lately. Father's day, or any day I visit my dad is always difficult. Deep wounds, but he's been much better with me the last couple of years. I think I've just settled into a comfortable pattern of denial because I know nothing will ever get resolved. He still has his moments but I can take brush them off better. My brothers and i were laughing the other day, thinking about the commercial's on TV where father hands down some poignant advice to his children. See when we were kids my dad's advice was "Son, maybe one hour of a day is happiness, the other 23 are misery." 'Splains alot about me don't it. Why am i writing this here? Not sure really, just rolled out. shrugs |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Even before my Dad died, I had to paint him up "perfect" in my mind. I didn't like to talk to my brothers and sisters who had different memories of him, and after he died I considered it a blasphemy to even discuss some of the errors of his ways. He'll have been gone three years this July, and it took some time, and a lot of whiskey, but I think now I can see him as the person he was and there has been some kind of marriage in my head between that adoring little girl and the adult Karen who also knows quite matter of factly that this man who worshipped my mother was the same handsome Navy guy who had a way with the ladies and...well, yes, sometimes drank too much and broke my mother's heart. But it occurred to me one day that he didn't have to be perfect for me to love him. And that was a relief for me, because y'see? That means I don't have to be perfect to be deserving of love either. Now let me wipe those tears, Raph. They'll detract from the little sparklies in your tiara. SOMEBODY GET THIS MAN A TIARA DAMMIT! |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
I'm sorry but does it LOOK like Raph needs a tiara? I think not!  |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Day 2...Tears Apart Each day awakens the tired in me, not dreading but anticipating what is to be expected. I caught a tear in the corner of his eye, while whispering of the previous night's events and how nothing has changed, yet all is different. Wondering when next the decline will pause us into another silence trying to do, think for each, what is best for all. Should I, should he, should we do nothing letting nothing happen until... ... It's alright to say "I hate you" (with love) each time a move of her body brings a grimace of pain. But that first time...yesterday, they were my eyes that filled with tears. 6/22 a.m. ~~**~~ She let me ...so I did softly stroking her cool foreheard brushing back her hair, wanting her to feel I was there wanting her to "know". Eyes half open, even in sleep the only peace is knowing she is in less pain...during. I asked her when sitting up a bit, "what are you thinking?" She replied, "pertaining to what?" At tmes her mind rewinds to phrases that show her sense of humor. If only she knew that I understand, even if... she says nothing at all. M 6/22 p.m. [This message has been edited by nakdthoughts (06-23-2004 10:03 PM).] |
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time prophet Member
since 2003-07-30
Posts 371In New Zealand Amongst the Ancient Trees |
"M" may the sunshine in the mail warm the soul. A hand reaches across the water to you. Peace be with you dear lady. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
Thanks K, it wasn't so much thinking of my dad that made me tear up just the way you honoured yours with words. Chalk it up to a 'descencion' after an incredible 'ascencion' i had recently..ahem..yeh..um. Do i have to wear a tiara? How about a nice baseball cap? Lmao nice pic PDV, surrounded by the ladies, i have dreams like that but then i wake up to the nightmare called a 'mirror'. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
LOL...Raph you look so handsome in your tiara... Do you really have a harem??  Maureen....We're listening..and staying close. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Maureen, know I am truly thinking of your struggle right now, and sending love your way, but it is a little hard for me to go to a place in my mind that makes me actually lose my breath right now. Cling on to those that will give you strength for this is truly a difficult time. Hey Raph, I know what you mean about the words Karen said of her Dad, they hurt don't they? I still love to read her words, along with Karilea's, and Martie's when they share fond memories of their fathers. I love visiting Elizabeth Santos and feeling almost like one of her family, as THAT is a real family, and something I never had. I have to say though, sometimes this isn't the way it goes, and some Fathers are only the person whose genes you inherited. I feel it is quite okay to not think of them with love, but whatever negative feeling you feel. You somehow forgive them their faults(for yourself,) but you absolutely never forget the neglect or abuse suffered. I have absolutely nothing but dark thoughts of my Father all the time, and I have learned to deal with when they surface and found a "comfortable place" for them to reside. He's dead now, but he lives on. I have always mourned that which I never had, and probably always will. Each time I hear a song about making peace with a Father before he dies, or bonding with one in some fashion, I cry - and not because of what I had, but in anger of what I was denied. Well now, yada, yada, yada and I too said way more than intended, and it too just sort of spilled out. |
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Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Ethel you are in my prayers and so are the rest of you. What a wonderful place you have assembled here. And Duncan I am praying for you especially! If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Sharon? I ditto what you said. I still envy those that had that Daddy/Daughter relationship I didn't get... I used to wonder what it was about me that made me so unworthy...then discovered it was he that was unworthy. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
 Viola! One slightly tilted tiara. Mine are not as good as Sharon's - so let's elect her in charge of tiaras shall we? I vote Poet deVine becomes our official tiara maker. Now all this town of Serenity's needs is an official, elected council of Princesses |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
Karen always had a way of making me spill my guts so it's not surprise her journal would have the same effect and on others Sharon, I've never understood the making peace before he dies bit. It makes me sick to think that that's what it would take for my father to finally say, 'you know, I did you boys wrong.' As a child my father was a monster and tyrant. The effects of that era are deeply engrained on my brothers especially. I was young when my parents divorced and I saw the shift in my dad. When he'd lost everything he changed his ways and I eagerly accepted him, until I realized he'd only changed his means. The tyrant resurfaced and while the physical abuse did not a new psychological and verbal abuse did. I know for a fact that his father was a monster, and knowing that I have empathy for my dad, at the same time knowing what it feels like, how do you turn and inflict the same torture on your kids? And how many chances do you give a person who does you harm? And why are blood ties a factor? If a stranger/friend/spouse does you wrong enough times you detach, but for some reason there's a need to forgive and reconcile with family. My need for some semblance of sanity outweighs a silly psychological need for 'roots'. An @hole is an @hole bloodline or not. And i've talked to long again..urgh I have my own journal and have barely written a thing then i come in here and bang..urgh '..the room fell silent, and somewhere off in the distance, a cat barked' ~ RG |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
"And how many chances do you give a person who does you harm" This very question is the reason I keep that card with the shrink's name in my wallet. sigh? nod. sigh |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
"How many chances do you give a person that causes you harm?" I think that has a personal answer for everyone. I left home when I was 17. I really didn't go back. So the answer was until I was old enough to make a hasty departure. In my marriage, the answer was given to me when I saw the effects on my children. No more chances. Sometimes we just hold out for hope of change. I figure if I came out of both situations and could still hope (in general) then I was going to be okay. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Ralph said......... Why am i writing this here? Not sure really, just rolled out. shrugs Yep, this journal of the SereneOne seems to have that effect on us all, doesn't it? I know that I've said more on these pages than I've ever intended. Sometimes I just read and don't say anything because I'm just not ready to let everything out yet. I wish that I could. I don't think these stupid and terrible feelings of darkness and depression would keep coming back on me if I would. But, I always look around and see so many who have been through so much more hurt and are still going through it. I love all you princesses and princes, too. Thank you Larry for keeping me in your thoughts and prayers, and everyone else who has. Maureen, I wish that I knew exactly the right words to say to you in this time of need. Just know that my hand is there if you need to hold it....even if it is trembly most of the time lately. And everybody else, my hand is there for ya'll, too....and my heart is here with all of you all the time, as well as my thoughts...... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
The SereneOne, Karen Karen, you are an awesome lady And I'm proud to call you friend Even in your trials of life Your helping hand you lend You are overcoming obstacles That have come your way No matter what you're going through A kind word to others you say We all are here when you need us As you are always there We know that's what friends are for Our load to help each other bear Today is your birthday We're here to celebrate with you So pass me a piece of your cake And a big bowl of that ice cream too Karen, I told you that I wrote you a poem for your birthday. I just haven't posted it because of the last verse and because I just couldn't on your birthday...but, we can always have ice cream and cake, can't we? LOL I hope that you had a very special day, sweet lady.With love and heart hugs, Ethel |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Smile. Ethel? That is just so sweet of you. I have yet another story that I already told Mysteria. *chuckle* We type alot. But one year, I received a birthday card from a friend. In March. March? I asked, but my birthday is in June. "Just open it." Inside was permission to start celebrating my birthday NOW. So I did. I celebrated every single day until June 14. I carried that card into every bar in New Orleans and it never failed to get me a free drink. It was well worn when I was finally done with it, and I wish I still had it...I'd have it framed. But I think I'll add your poem to my feel good book. I started keeping a scrapbook of the nice things you all say to me, and when I'm down I like to read it, just to lift my spirits a bit. Thank you all. You are the kindest, loveliest people...sigh. I'm gonna cry and the kids are watching too. They think I'm nuts when I do this. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
Hugs K Susan, never really lived with my dad, just saw him once a week (yet he still managed to do damage) and finally told him where to go at 16. An incredible moment that just shattered his hold, yet I naively allowed him in again from time to time hoping a realization had sunk in but found it always ended the same way. I now see him only a handful of times a year and even at their best I can't help but cringe inside. shrugs Ethel who's Ralph? |
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
Hey Raph... Did I notice that you moved from Coconuts? in England? to some "cuckoo's nest" Well done Regards Sudhir |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
I get around Sudhir |
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GG Member Elite
since 2002-12-03
Posts 3532Lost in thought |
Larry, I don't know a soul who could turn down that offer! Thank you so much... Take care... be well. Always, Alyssa |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
"And how many chances do you give a person who does you harm" ive been reading....and...lets just say my dad was well..probably alot like your dads. i had a few months ago written here at PIP that my dad was dying....and..well.. he did die but they managed to "bring him back"..nonetheless..he is functioning, walking around and such, but lost his memory. i dont mean amnesia, im talking brain damage. He will never remember...and must be re-taught ALOT of things. my dad did the same exact job for 30 years solid..and cant remember any of it, which means he doesnt remember what he did to me and my brothers, and my mother. all my life i harboured feelings, repressed as much as possible and pretend its all going to just go away. i couldnt let it go i kept torturing myself with it. But, he died, and he came back as an "erased" man. the dad that was there for all my life....got washed away. Wasnt my choice, was the universe that chose this. Kamma punished him and freed him all at once. If the man who did the bad thing is forgiven by the universe itself, then why should i harbour and hold this pain anymore. Kamma gave me the go-ahead, told me its ok, everything has been erased. not so simple for those who dont share my faith and spirituality. But because im "me"... I know i dont have to hurt anymore.. Kamma told me so. ...and in my smallest voice i do say to you Raph and Karen and any others who hurt from past events.....(again) "I know YOU dont have to hurt anymore, Kamma told me so" |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I have more to say about this, but right now I'm tard again, but I was thinking something that forgiveness is born of understanding and is not a decision that can be forced on the self... not for me anyway. Maureen, m'queen? *heart hugs* I'm with you daily in thought, knowing, in my own way by remembering, those bittersweet moments so poignant that my skin aches just thinking of them. so more prayers said for you and yours and that you find peace in these precious moments. Love you lady. goodnight good poet people. Tomorrow? I get to go dig through salvage yards. gleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
Well Dawn if there's any justice my dad will remember and deal with the past for once, and I'll lose my memories..except hopefully not the memory of Angelina Jolie in Gia..daaaamn........................what were we talking about again? |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
I dont think ANYONE could forget angelina jolie strange things about people who do really bad things repeatedly over many years....they dont seem to realize truely what they are doing is bad. Sometimes its better they get erased, and become a new person...than waiting for them to realize their wrongs and deal with it/make amends (cause often the NEVER come to that realization).....im not saying a world of hurt disappears either way...but i spent many years in therapy and so on and so forth, so im not claiming any magic happened....guess i just have reached that point in myself where i can acknowledge my own freedom (i hope)but we do all deal with things differently, and i learn from everyone. and really wish i could give out alot of hugs....sometimes wish i could be everyone's mommy so i can kiss away the tears... |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
"they dont seem to realize truely what they are doing is bad." Dawn this is going to seem harsh, but I promise, it isn't. I am stating what I feel (which I don't always do..just because). When a 6-7 yr old little girl is crying and begging Daddy to stop, it is my firm belief that he knows exactly what he is doing and does not care enough to stop. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
yes yes! you are right susan, they do know and chose not to stop i agreei think i worded wrong, maybe more like they know what they do is wrong but somehow they justify it in their own minds..so that they dont have to feel guilty...Im having trouble conveying what i mean (mind not so clear lately) and i dont think you are being harsh at all.. you are saying what needs to be said..and i applaude that...i applaude all of you who say what is on your mind and in your heart |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Did anybody see the interview with former President Bill Clinton on Oprah? He talked about a fine line of "excuses" vs. "reasons." (But then, we knew he would. )Hopefully I'll have time later to come back and elaborate on how that thought tied to this one--if my brain cells are still clicking at midnight tonight. sigh. Hugs all. I need to salvage some brain cells along with building materials... But I'm off in search of treasures. I'll be looking for ornamental medallions, cornices, and pieces of tin. Sound like fun? grin. It is to me. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Thank you Dawn! You guys know all this remodeling/repairs talk goes whooshing right over my head, right? The mere thought makes me shudder...I don't even weed whack. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
Hugs Susan and weed wacking just sounds so wrong.. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Just dropping in to say hello... I'm still reading... and happy to see the tiara club thriving and growing... You all deserve nothing less than those sparkling crowns of adornment... Huga, all... |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Oh my goodness Raph!!!! I'm sorry. I never have called you Ralph before. What time of the morning did I write that? I've been doing some wee morning writing here lately. Talking about the Father's....well, my little girls abuse came from a step-father, but he was her father figure. I guess he must have thought that it wasn't as bad since she wasn't his blood child. And, he's dead now so I can't confront him about the things that I've learned since he died. Oh how I wish that I could!!!!! And, my "little girl" has been in therapy all the years he's been dead. By the way, she will always be my little girl no matter how old she may be. I wish that I could reach through this screen and hug every one of you!!! |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
No problem Ethel |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I ordered a sheet of copper today. I plan on pummeling it with a ball peen hammer to go over my stove. Actually, I should say, I ordered a sheet of copper tonight. (Not easy to do on a Friday, with sheet metal shops closed for the weekend, but hey? I've got friends in low places. grin. Sometimes they's good to know. We had planned on tin. In fact, we went on an expedition today to salvage yards in hopes of finding that elusive treasure--perhaps some pressed tin--already aged, maybe a medallion? I was hopeful. We went from warehouse to salvage yard to flea market to antique shops. We caught a bolt in the rear tire. We got some air in a very bad neighborhood. We got the hell out of there. Then it started to rain. Hard. So just when we were about to give up, we took refuge in one of those indoor warehouse salvage/flea marts. My husband found the albums immediately while I horrified the vendors by insisting on picking stuff up to look at watermarks and checking hinges on antiques. I really just wanted a sheet of tin. Something light gauge, that would work easily, not that corrugated roofing material. I mean it sounds great, but I wanted purty--and I like the way that tin ages. I was just about to give up on the quest when I saw exactly what I was looking for, there--against the far wall behind the bedframes. OH. That wasn't against the far wall--it was the far wall. I was fingering the edges and eyeing the rivets wickedly when a small fish hook of an old man shuffled up to me. "Whatteryadoin?" I tried to explain. I told him about my project, and my experimental mosaic countertop and that it had come out rather nicely, and about Mike, our neighbor, who decided to accent my counter with a corresponding drop ceiling, so he could add can lights. I explained that I wanted metal over my stove, because when you cook under sheetrock the ceiling just tends to look like...well. Ya'll know what it looks like. I said to him: "When those oils build up, it just gets so tacky..." OILS? "I used to work in the oil industry!" he exclaimed proudly. Really? "Oh yes, In ALASKA too--before they built the pipeline." "No shtuff?" I was genuinely interested. I love Alaska. "No SHTUFF." He nodded proudly. "I even got my picture in National Geographic--c'mon--I'll show you." So I followed him through the wood frame and chickenwire partions of the flea market to his area--a sanctuary of interesting where he had a comfortable stool behind an antique register. He gingerly climbed aboard and licked his fingers before pulling out a well worn copy of The National Geographic. I heard a sigh behind me. A woman was dusting "what-nots" behind me and she looked at me apologetically. Smile. Apparently I was in for the long tour. "Lessssssssseeeeeeee" He had put his glasses on and started at page one, acting like he hadn't done this a million times. "nope" grunt "uh uh" then finally, another lick of fingers produced a "Here she is!" And he introduced me to the ship that was his home for a time in his life. He explained to me the processes, and how much harder it was then, and how the old tankard leaked. He turned the page. "Now THIS!!!" His old finger was stabbing at an aerial shot of land. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. "Tell me what this reminds you of?" He didn't wait for an answer. "SWAMP" He nodded. "Yep, that could be the wetlands of Louisiana--if we still had wetlands. That could be Cameron--hell, it could be anywhere on up to Grand Isle!" Sure enuff. It looked the same to me. He licked his finger again to turn the page to the centerfold. I swear I don't know where the moisture came from, the old man looked to me like he was made of parchment. But he turned the page as though it were heavy. He turned the page as though it were, well? made of tin to reveal the centerfold of the ship, spanning two pages proudly. "There I am!" he jabbed excitedly at a yellow dot. He was pointing to the blonde hair on the back of a man's head on the dock. I smiled. I looked at him and I could see the wonder in his eyes, and I didn't have to see a picture to know that as a young man, he stood on that dock with the same look of amazement, gazing upon that mechanical whale while thinking: "There--I once stood there." I shook my own head, astounded, knowing the difference that a gangplank and a matter of minutes can make. Smile. It's all in the perspective. I learn things this way... In the eyes of the old and the eager, in the dismissal of the young and impatient. I like to watch their eyes as they speak. His were moist with tears of memories of adventure... So I bought a plaster of paris plate from him and told him I would hang it in my kitchen, and that I would look at it and remember him always. It was a simple design, with a Biblical quote etched into it, signed and dated by the artist: From Revelations-- "Behold I make all things new." * * * I thought it most appropriate. And yes, I ordered a shiny new sheet of copper. Thanks to my new friend, who shall forever be nameless but remembered in a place of honor in my new kitchen, for delivering me that promise with such a sublime undertone of aging. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I learn things this way... In the eyes of the old and the eager, in the dismissal of the young and impatient. ~*~ It's so good to be home... ~*~ Small piece of paper on my desk next to my keyboard, "37 - 923". "What's that mean?" I smile, that wicked little knowing grin that says to myself's mind...'something for me to know.' "37 - 923" "Well, what does it mean." It's a page marker. "Huh? Oh...never mind. You're still nuts." Yea, a crazy kind of nutz. So, for the last enjoyable, quiet part of the beginning of my first day back, I've been reading all of you from page 37, post 923. What a way to begin the rest of my vacation. I've missed you all so much, but was out making memories with my 12 year old granddaughter, who, sometimes, sounds like a 52 year old woman in disguise. And we only had "one" moment that wasn't fun, but at least it was on the way home, and we can both agree that our tiredness kind of got in the way of civility for oh, about 32 seconds.Ladies, Gents? I note that you all sort of "let your hair down" in here. Well, why do you think I marked the page where I left off, so I could pick up again? Because I missed you THAT much, and wanted to make sure I could catch up on everything while I was away. In some respects, this last week was so loooonnnnggggg.....and in others? Much too short, for while we did all of the touristy things in Co. Springs, I could feel a reason to go back and do the things I knew I should have done - for myself. But...when you're with a 60 year old and a 12 year old, you don't get all of the moments you want, and I know you know what I mean. Did I think of you all? I most certainly did. So I get to spend today and tomorrow going through the poetry and announcements and finding out what all of you were up to... and you know what? It still remains my pleasure, to say I missed you all more than you will ever know, and that it's good to come home to friends!! Maureen? Serenity? Photos!!! And everyone else? |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
He licked his finger again to turn the page to the centerfold. I swear I don't know where the moisture came from, the old man looked to me like he was made of parchment. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ gawd I love the way you see the world as poetry. |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Hi Vicky you still battling with your comp probs?Welcome home Kari!!! cant wait to see the poetry and pics from the trip. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
He licked his finger again to turn the page to the centerfold. I swear I don't know where the moisture came from, the old man looked to me like he was made of parchment. Christ, look at THIS!! Karen you're a genius. Get yer @ss moving and publish these stories in a book. I'm not kidding, go.. now.. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
Oops just saw JM picked out those same lines but just proves it..go..now |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
A genius? Funny, we were just discussing this while we worked the other night, dicussing "Intelligence Quotients" and such. I comforted my new friend Cindy, who had scored particularly low. But I explained how those things can be geared to give a favorable slant according to interest and experience. I told her that just because I scored high, I didn't believe myself to be a genius--that I was just particularly adept at taking tests. We returned to our work of sealing the grout, and we began discussing my problem of counter edges. As you may have guessed, it's difficult to get a clean edge with mosaic tile, and add to that the "hippy" design that Mike rendered for me---curves, curves, everywhere to accomodate my proclivity for making use of every possible square inch of house for storage. Hmmm...what to do? The metal stripping would be difficult at best, especially in the corner where that odd curve meets the sink. "Veneer?" I asked Mike. He brightened a bit, saying that yes, it would be easier to work with, but that it probably wouldn't wear well. We went back to silence while we pondered the dilemma. I took a break, stepping out on the porch to smoke. I keep a sketch pad out there, and I was doodling, and chatting with Cindy the bartender about her job while I was thinking about my counter on some other level. "HUSH!" I proclaimed to her and she looked startled that I had just told her to "shut up." But she understood as I rapidly sketched out my idea for the counter edges. She looked at me, nodding, saying, "That can work." I smiled. "And I think it will be purty too!" So we ran in to get the Mike approval. "Mike...." I swear I think he cringes when he hears me saying his name sometimes. "I want to show you something." He sighed. "Whenever you show me something it usually means more work for me." "Not this time baby," his wife interjected. So I showed him my sketch, and said, "we can easily line these edges in leather, with a small foam backing--brown leather to match the wood and stone, and it will be soft too, and I think I can manage a clean line." "And?" Cindy interrrupted. "On the service counter? You can add extra padding--like an elbow rest in a real bar!" Mike was beaming at me. "Karen? You're a genius." *giggle* So it must be true. I'm a frigging genius. lmao... I love you good people. (and btw? I told Mike I would run this idea by my internet friends--that ya'll were really good at foreseeing potential problems. So...if there's something wrong with my simple idea, let me know? BEFORE I start siliconing the foam to the sides, please. Thanks in advance. and Raph and Jan? Sheesh. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Knives. Just be careful with knives, and hot pans. Otherwise? Simply "genius"! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Actually? I thought of that too. On one counter we are sinking a piece of stainless that will curl the corner of the countertop--a hygienic chopping spot--with the garbage can placed just under, so I can sweep the remains into the garbage just by pulling out the tilt out can. So there's the knives issue. and then the hot pots? I placed three tiles side by side uncracked just over the oven and next to the stove--and a single tile on the left too, just in case... and yes, I realize it's a bit high maintenance (I've swabbed a few bars in my time) and plan on sealing the seam as well to expedite clean up. But? smacking my head here... I should have placed whole tiles next to the frig, too, for a splashboard at the very least. Why can't these people pour anything without an overfill??? and welcome home, Kari... I'm waiting for your stories. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Hi, JM... No... no more computer problems at the moment... finally got mine up and running...rebuilt it actually... and at the prompting of K's 'Twisted' sister, it's officially been dubbed 'Lazarus'...grin... gotta love it... Anyway... now I'm back to battling everyday demons instead of 'puter demons... go figure... Btw... in the process of resurrecting Lazarus, and switching everything over from my brother's laptop, I lost your e-mail address...yet again... So... if you wouldn't mind dropping me a line, so I have it again, I'd appreciate it... Hugs, my mothy friend... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
My stories resulted in three poems, serene one...all in Open. So far. But, the voices are still talking, and I guess I'm going to have to storyboard some of the photos here...hee hee... It was so "noisy" with the granddaughter and the hubby, I figured I'd hear everything once I got home and quietly studied the shots that "wouldn't turn out", or so I was told... like the one in Martie's poem.... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
For Serenity [and all mothers and fathers who will someday be Grands….] How is it that 40 years can be wiped away by a hidden smile, some anticipation, and a horse named Roscoe?  I had her pigtails, once. Never wore the helmet. Rode the ride, though, once upon a time. My dreams to ride my own horse as a youngster were derailed by economics. Let’s face it. Dad’s education and three mouths to feed didn’t always give us kids what some kids are “blessed with” today. As a matter of opinion, some kids have way too much, but those are my thoughts. And in some other ways, I have been fortunate to enjoy, in these last 24 years, and experience some financial “ease”…in other words, no longer robbing Peter to pay Paul. Oh, yes, I’ve worked hard, but never had the “genius” [*smile*] that some folks have. But I also grew up very appreciative of the smallest gestures, which, at all times, seem like the grandest of all gifts. Like the time in 1970, when our folks took us kids on our “last” “family” vacation, before I married for the first time [to the guy who made me experience my robbing from Peter to pay Paul.] When my Dad talked to a nephew of his when we arrived on Dad’s home turf – South Dakota – and arranged for his “little girl” to have a quiet, on-her-own horse ride – shhhhh, a big secret…so big, that since I didn’t know where Dad and I were going, I still had my hair in curlers for the big dinner that evening – but guess what? Once I found out what Dad had in mind, I knew the horse wouldn’t care…*supergrin* My dad’s conundrum? He knew I sat a horse well. He knew I had a knack…and he knew he couldn’t deliver my one dream. That one dream of having my own horse. When children dream, they dream big. And horses are big. *smile*  This is my granddaughter, Morgan ["Paige" to you Pipsters], sitting her dream. This little “vacation” to Colorado Springs with Grandma and Grandpa was, I think, fun to some extent – the hot air balloon ride was “grandpa’s dream” come true and she enjoyed it – but the highlight of the high hills was going for a two-hour horse ride. Not long enough, granted, but when you’re going through The Garden of the Gods on horseback…well, let’s just say she was in heaven. So was grandma, when going in more or less a horizontal direction. Seems I always had the luxury of going straight across the country… It was when we hit the hills and valleys of the ride that, ahem, my age began to show. LOL…[oh yes, I’m remembering another story for another time…] I knew the tricks…and as I followed Morgan on Roscoe…she got some careful guidance to “lean forward” or “loosen the reins but lean back” so the rocky trail could be traversed safely.  The photo above is not considered “The Garden” but…seeing as how it’s sitting just about on the outskirts of the Gardens, you can have some appreciation of the trail we rode. You see…after taking the picture above of Morgan on Roscoe…my camera stopped working. But, you can see her little disposable? She is the one who took pictures and, in a day or so, I hope to have some copies. SHE was in charge of taking all photos from horseback. What a grand moment for her…in front of me and her grandpa…in charge of capturing moments…and sitting the saddle so well…. I won’t tell you what still hurts on me, two days later. Suffice to say, I tried biking a few times before going for the ride, and am certainly glad I did…I’m sure I’d be hurting even more if I hadn’t…but the inclines and declines were, in some areas, some 15 to 20 degrees, and guess what? I AM 52….and out of shape….LOL…. But…. My husband has a cousin who has horses. He’s invited me to come ride, sometime. I think I’m going to take the cousin up on his offer. Because some dreams just don’t die. [This message has been edited by Sunshine (06-26-2004 11:23 PM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Oh, and Serenity? That "parchment line"? Caught my eye, too...I just wasn't quick enough to show my  thanks. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Yes...the book Karen...there must be a book. Never have I been so moved by words as I have since meeting you Serene one, by way of Passions. At first, it was very difficult for me to understand or should I say, decipher(spell?) all of your writings, but I have learned to read between the lines. Not just between the lines, but between the words as well. Heck...between the punctuation marks!! After devouring your entry about the flea market search for tin, I walked away from the computer with tears streaming down my cheeks. Meeting up with my hubby, I didn't need to say anything. "Been reading Karen's journal again?" he asked. I just sniffed, nodded and floated away, still caught up in your words. Thankyou for ... well, for being you. Oh, and by the way, your kitchen ideas sound awesome. Luv U |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Chrislane? smile---if I wrote the book, then what would I have to aim for? who knows, maybe...maybe someday. I seem to just be sorting writing material--the stuff is everywhere! smile. and Kari? She's gorgeous. as are you. and this? "loosen the reins but lean back” * * * Yes'm. I think I will. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
"smile---if I wrote the book, then what would I have to aim for?" a second book |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
LOL...Raph took my comment...so..."ditto". What? You think ONE book would cover it all? When there's always another day? Silly girl... Thank you for your comments regarding Morgan, sweetie. She's had a hard life in many ways for one so young. But she's a good student, an avid reader, and listens to lectures better'n most 12 year olds. She's also learning that you can have an opinion, but one must know WHEN to plug in their differences, and when to UNPLUG in order to defuse a confrontation [like I said, she knows her grandpa pretty well...] and... she loves to tickle people! |
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
Yeah, I'd go for a book or two, at least, Serenity! And welcome back, Karilea! You were missed! And Morgan is gorgeous! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
I AM 52….and out of shape….LOL…. But…. My husband has a cousin who has horses. He’s invited me to come ride, sometime. I think I’m going to take the cousin up on his offer. Because some dreams just don’t die. Well now...I am gonna say it....I am 54 and outta shape...so I have a couple of years on you Karilea, and I still dream of having my own horse. Preferably one with short legs and a sway back. LOL. But, seriously, I believe we must keep on dreamin'. My mother used to say as she watched my father practicing his magic tricks, "for what would this world be without dreamers?" I didn't understand it much back then, but I do now. I have loved horses ever since I can remember. Going to the Western Fair in London Ontario, our hometown, was so exciting. I recall being oh, maybe 6 and mom frantic because I had walked under the roping and into the stall with a beautiful Clydesdale horse. Gentle giants they are. Dad said, "she's alright....alright." I think he was a little nervous too at the sight of his tiny daughter hugging the leg of this enormous beast. lol. Part of my dream came true when I was 10 or 11 and got to take English riding lessons from a friend of ours who owned a 3/4 Arabian stallion. What the other 1/4 was, I still don't know, but he was gorgeous. I had no fear back then. Hmmmm. I still talk about owning my own horse with my hubby. He smiles and nods. But, he never laughs at my dream. Instead, he has asked a couple of his friends who live out in the country if we could board a horse with them .... someday. Someday. Morgan seems to be a delight and oh, so pretty!! She is lucky to have you Karilea. As are we all. Welcome back. Hugging you. Chrislane. [This message has been edited by Nightshade (06-27-2004 11:27 AM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Chrislane? I think I'm going to come back as a horse. Probably akin to Smarty Jones...now, that's my kind of horse. Seriously? I still believe that one day I will have my dream. I've come close to it a few times. I know what will have to happen, though, which I won't go into right now. But yes, I'll have a horse, maybe two, and I will have my cats again as well. I will also be published some day... Now...that's dreaming! So? I'd best get to working on 'em. And you, sweetie...don't look out of shape at all. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
"you've got to have a dream.. if you don't have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true?" (Happy Talk-South Pacific) Thanks Chris...that song is now stuck in my head for the rest of the day... It always makes me smile. *clink* Here's to dreams. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Okay... this isn't an easy thing for me to do... actually?... it's probably one of the most difficult things I've ever done in my life...and this is probably the only place I would ever feel 'safe' enough to do it... here... in this journal that is one of only two places that really feel like 'home' these days... I am not one who asks for help easily... I've spent most of my life being the 'strong' one for everyone else, to the point of neglecting myself... and I became so good at it that when I did need someone, no one recognized it... because they just saw me as 'strong'... and thought "she'll be okay..."... and I always was... Those of you who know me, also know that I don't easily admit to 'needing' anyone or anything... It has always felt like a sort of 'weakness' to me to admit such a thing... not a weakness when others did it... but I have always had a harsher set of rules for myself than for others... I mean, what if I asked for help, and someone realized I wasn't ALWAYS so strong... How could they feel they could come to me for help, if "I" needed help too?... so... my need to be needed outweighed everything else... and, as some of you know, it often still does... and, I know... but it's a hard pattern to break... Anyway... what I'm trying to get at here, but am instead beating around the bush at, is this... Today?... I am not strong... Today?... I need help... I need your friendship... and I need your prayers... I won't bore you with details... mostly because truly 'opening up' isn't so easy for me either... even in a 'safe place' such as this... Your prayers, though... and positive thoughts... will be felt and appreciated so much more than you know... Hugs to you all... and, Karen?... thank you again, lady... for creating this journal and giving people like myself a safe place... a place to be 'real' without the fear of judgment or rejection... That?... is a rare find... as are you... Love you, my sis... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Well Vicky I can sure drum up some darn postive energy and send it your way. I hope the rest of the day pans out to lift your spirits, by holding the hands of friends that care? Asking for help is about the hardest thing for me to do too, but after the first time, it gets easier, honest. Here's to healing your soul sweetie. Oh my goodness that was the 1,000th post of this journal - what do I get? LOL, huh, huh? What do I get? One wish you say? Okay, I wish to bring laughter to Vicky how's that Witch? |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
"On one counter we are sinking a piece of stainless that will curl the corner of the countertop--a hygienic chopping spot--with the garbage can placed just under, so I can sweep the remains into the garbage just by pulling out the tilt out can." Now THAT proves you are a genius! Every kitchen should have such chopping spot, and better still a hole in the counter over the garbage. I can't imagine how much time I spend opening one cupboard door, being obessive I will start taking a count today, LOL. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Healing hugs and prayers going out to you dear Vicky. I too know what it's like to always be the strong one..the one who can 'pull it off'... but just recently found out I can't. I think being able to admit we are indeed vulnerable and in need can be very difficult, for some of us. Just know I am holding you close in my thoughts. Karen...I can't wait to see pics of your new kitchen!! Gawd I love it in here! |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Vicky I've felt your pain....and I've been sending you whatever strenth I have to give. Big hugs to you! I want you to know that I care! |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Sharon?... Thank you, lady... I need all the positive energy that I can get... and I know how high your energy level is... so I am sure to feel it from you... smile... You are a wonderful person, Sharon... and a cherished friend... I appreciate you so much more than you know... Nancy Lee?... Yes... not only is it difficult to openly admit that I'm not the 'strong' person that so many people seem to think I am... but it's also scary... for me, anyway... I don't like that feeling of vulnerability... of being at the mercy of others... In my past experience, that was never a safe place to be... but fortunately, the past doesn't have to be the future... and I am slowly learning, that there are those whom I can trust not to take advantage of the weaknesses... but, instead, to pick up the slack when I need it... Thank you for understanding, my friend... and for the hugs and prayers... they are very much appreciated... Martie?... I know that you know...and that you care... Thank you for that... and for your friendship... I know, too, that you've had your share of hard times lately, and I'm so sorry that I haven't been there for you... I love you, my friend... and please know that I care too...so much more than I've been able to show... Thanks again, to all of you... I love you ladies so much... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Vicky - sometimes being the "strong one" actually means being able to say "help me please." I learned that one the hard way. We give and give and give until we just "give out." We will surround you with healing light and love. You are a tender soul - bless you. hugs, Chris |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
This calls for a saying my Gramma used to say, "I am into self-care, not self-wear, so go do it yourself!" Welcome to the Tiara Club Vicky, one of the prerequisites was to have once been a doormat I think or so it appears anyway. This malaise is going around trust me and you are not alone. How often do you hear me not being Suzy Sunshine, but I am not right now. So, we can all just hold each other up over the bumps on this ride how's that? Seems there is a bumpy journey for far too many good people these days to me. Hang in there. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Vicky? You just curl up on the couch and wait for the planets to change. (You might wanna take off that tiara tho, if you sleep in one of those you wake with notches on yer head) Witch Report: Venus goes direct this week! (That's the good news.) The bad news is Uranus is still retrograde. Feel better soon, good poet people, and thank you all for taking care of the place for me while I'm away. Pics will be forthcoming when the stuff is DONE. (The oven is "in", tho...yay) And tomorrow I go tile still yet ANOTHER countertop--an unexpected surprise-- ouch. That hurt. Aspirin and sleep, maybe? sigh. Goodnight folks. Love to all. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
The bad news is Uranus is still retrograde. ~*~ That must hurt. ~*~ Vicky? Check your e-mail, honey. ~*~ Hugs all.... |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
This was posted on Maureen's Birthday thread in Announcements, and I know you would want to know. quote: May she rest in peace, and my thoughts are with Maureen this day. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Thankyou Sharon, I was just thinking of her this morning. May she be at peace finally home. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Thank you Mysteria, for letting us know. Maureen, words fail me quite often and this is one of those times. Prayers said and hugs sent. |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Thank you for letting us know Sharon. Maureen, my deepest sympathy to you and the rest of your family. I find I too am at a loss for words. Just know we are holding you in thought and prayer at this sad and difficult time. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Maureen, I've been mulling this around in my head, so I'm going to put it here, not only for you, but for the rest of us as a reminder when the time comes...[as it did for me this last week, as well...] it's OK to be mad. I am reminded of the story, "Corinna, Corinna" when Corinna tells the little girl that it's OK to be mad when someone dies. It's OK to not understand, and it's OK to "let go". I had a friend pass away about the same time as did your sister, only it was the previous Sunday. I spoke to her, laughed with her, ate meals with her just a few short weeks ago. It was her third go-around with cancer. I wasn't here to get the message right away - I was on "vacation". And became extremely vexed that I wasn't immediately available to my friends. So...it's OK to be mad. And after you've thrown the pillows, cried, banged on the table, whatever it takes, sweetie...I'll be here to listen some more. Because I understand. And now? I understand even more why there were some voices in my head that are still begging to come out. Love, Karilea |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
I just thought I'd say that I'm here, and I'm listening, and I have been for quite some time. My thoughts are with you all. Ki |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ki? Welcome. Join in, anytime. |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Chris?... I'm learning that... Thank you so much my friend... Sharon?... Thanks for the 'welcome'... and yep... I've definitely done my time as a doormat... and still have the scuff marks to prove it... grin?... Love you, lady... Karen?... thanks for the advice...and?... that sounds like the safest place to be about now... smile... Oh... and I'll keep that in mind about the tiara too... and those unsightly notches... grin... Love you so much, my sista... Karilea?... I got the e-mail, my friend... Thank you... and healing hugs to you as well... And, Sharon?... thanks for letting us know about Maureen's sister... Maureen?... Please know that you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers... Hugs to you, my friend... Love you, ladies... |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
Oops... *waving at Kielo*... Didn't mean to ignore you up there... Good to see you... |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Hugs to you Maureen...I'm so sorry for your loss. |
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muted
since 2004-01-15
Posts 2949Elapsing, Eclipsing, Evolving |
Maureen, may your sister rest peacefully...and may your heart be full of love and hope...never emptied. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Maureen, I found the news of your sister's passing here, in the journal, pretty much right before I received I your e mail. The news didn't shock me, no. I understood through our friendship and correspondence that she had rallied, so long, and so hard, that her time would be soon. Too soon. It's always too soon, for us left behind... I'm thinking of you, that if you are even reading this, it's through a surrealistic eye about now, and thinking about that makes me remember, what it was like, to say goodbye daily to someone I loved. Having to leave, never knowing if I could say "Hello" again. And I am posting this here, because I think there's much that should be said regarding the trials of the sick and rallying. I'm posting this here, because I think we all need to know we're not alone--words on a screen typed by me? Can that make a difference? I don't know. I would love to "will" this glass fluid and reach a hand through and hold yours tonight. Words are useless when touch is at the ready. I would love to will these words magick--that they might do just that--and lend comfort to you, and all of our friends here at Pip, and in our daily touchstone life. But...I can only talk about what I know. * * * My family and I took turns sitting with my father. He had this anxiety about medication--simple pain meds would produce a rage in him that frightened the hospital staff, and unless a family member was with him at all times, they strapped him down. He hated feeling "doped." His mother had died of Alzheimer's, and he had a fear of that helplessness--so he fought the nurses and orderlies who tried to ease his pain with narcotics. He scared them too. He was old, he was sick, but he was strong. smile...there must be somethin' to that comanche' blood legend. My father could kick ass--even in straps at 150 lbs. It wasn't pretty. But it was him. * * * During these times, I learned about prayer. I thought about the motivation of my own prayers, and that is when I had a profound questioning of faith, intention, and result. I understood that I know longer knew what to pray for. My prayers were very simple first: "Let him LIVE." I confess I prayed valiantly, unceasing, at his bedside, even while he was not in his right mind. One evening, I arrived for my "shift" and found him in the midst of an argument with my mother. There was a styrofoam cup on that sink counter, and it had a straw in it. He was protesting loudly that he was on oxygen and somebody oughtta "put out that cigarette." My mother was trying--she really was--patiently explaining that he was not seeing a cigarette in an ashtray, but a straw in a cup. He was in total disbelief and anxiety. So I just stubbed out the "cigarette," and he was immediately relieved. I told my exhausted mother, "go home and take a break--I'll be here, or one of us will be here." So she went home for that much needed break and I was alone with my Dad. Terrified. He talked to people who weren't there, he called me names and said things that ... well, he'd never meant for me for me to hear. I massaged his feet, and did what I could (mostly he just liked me to keep the doctors and nurses away from him as much as possible) and as I did, every now and then he would sleep. I would try to read, and no, I never watched the tv (television bothered him while sleeping) but I began to think that my original prayers hadn't been about him at all--they were all about me. I wanted him to LIVE. HE--on the other hand, wanted to die with a bit of grace and dignity--and for him? That meant AT HOME. * * * My prayers changed rapidly from "make him LIVE" to "for god's sake, he deserves to die in peace". He was out of his mind with meds and they weren't going to release him, so the family and I taught him the answers to the questions that would allow that medical release: "What's your name Dad?" "Where are you?" "Who's your mother?" "Who am I?" We guarded him from the nurses (as per his wishes), and as the dope left his system, he became more cognizant and eventually passed that test that allowed him to go home. * * * He passed. * * * Peace to you, Maureen, although it may not yet be time for you to know it. First your feet have to feel the ground again. * * * There's more, m'friend, but rest your eyes. Love to all. and I wish you all "serenity". (it's always been a goal) They released him. I have to wonder if that's not the perfect analogy of death. Not an ending. Not a beginning, but a simple release to something paralell. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
I have to wonder if that's not the perfect analogy of death. Not an ending. Not a beginning, but a simple release to something paralell. Amen to that dear Karen ... amen to that. Bless you Karen for starting this journal. Bless us all for meeting life's challenges to the best of our ability and then some. Maureen - you have my email addy if you ever need to talk. Hugs sweet one. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I have to agree on the parallel...there are too many unexplaineds that the forces keep telling me to uncover, that must have come from another time. Sigh. And the book is talking to me, too. More like yelling. I MUST get some priorities back into shape. If just everyone would stay put for, oh, five more eternities, I would be all right. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Karen, May I use a corner of your journal for a second please? I know you well m'sis, and have felt your pain and you mine, so hope you don't mind? I don't pray really, I sort of request good things happen to good people. I have been doing a lot of requesting lately, and it wears a soul thin as it brings to mind every death I ever witnessed. Just a fact of life I realize now. I won't go into a long story about my friend Willow who died, but would like to tell you just one thing I learned at her bedside through to her death. As she readied to die she whispered this to me, "I know I used my time in this life well, learned from it, and will now take that to the next level whatever that is to share it, and learn more now that is exciting." I said, "How can you say that Jenna, aren't you afraid to die?", and she said, "Heck no, only those afraid of living are afraid to die! I lived girl, I lived! You know that!" She died two days later in my arms actually, and for her it was easy. From that point in time, I tried to cram as much living into one day that I could, and although it has slowed down a tad, I still am cramming away. I don't want to waste the time I have, or ignore any opportunity for inter-actions, loving, or giving to others, as time goes by. I promised her I would smell the roses, and I try to do just that. The little things she showed me that are really important now fill my life. To make this short, we have all shared a common bond in tending to the sick and dying out of love we have for them, and it is damn hard, and even harder if you doing the job with no love in place. I know it is also harder on those living than on the one dying, as meds take care of them, but who takes care of us. Sometimes the dying are really looking for that permission to die, and we have to let them go by giving them our blessing, and not hold them back. Death is as natural as birth itself, and what we do with the time in-between now that is what really counts right? We all think it, but how many of us change our lives to the better when we have the chance? It requires a risk, change, venturing into the unknown, and it holds us back from a wonderful new experience. Maureen, the wounds run deep right now this I know. A lot of us are still struggling to find a comforable place to put our experience tending to one dying we loved, but eventually we do, we will. It is through leaning on others when we are in pain that it will subside. This loss finds a comfortable spot in our memories, and enables us to then celebrate the live of the person we loved, and laughter begins again, and it is wonderful. I truly wish you peace of mind, a healing heart, and a soul of gentle spirit. May we all find peace in knowing these people we loved while alive, HAVE to be in a better place. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I feel like I know Willow now. In a way, I guess I do. She lives on in you, and I hope you feel free to share all of her insights and wisdom with us. Last night I spent some with twist. We sat on the porch and had a few drinks and talked till midnight. We swapped stories for a small audience, who were in tears as we sat there amazed that there was so much humor in our tales of woe. Smile. We both thought we was just livin'. But anyhoo, she said I needed to write some of THOSE stories--and I told her I'd throw some of the thoughts in the soup and see if we'd have anything for supper. grin... I'm thinking, I'm thinking. And remember good people, some days, it's enough to just stand STILL. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Can't you convince twist to come in and share some, as well? Hmmm? We could use a dose of livin' 'bout now... |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
*sigh* so many from our home here are hurting right now... its hard to know what to say...and as said before..words fall short when so many we care about are coping with loss, illness, and struggling for answers. We all need a group hug... no need to name names... just know we care and will be keeping you close in thoughts and prayer. heart hugs |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
"Last night I spent some with twist. We sat on the porch and had a few drinks and talked till midnight. We swapped stories for a small audience, who were in tears as we sat there amazed that there was so much humor in our tales of woe." I would have liked to have been a part of that small audience... smile... And?... she's right, of course... you SHOULD write some of those stories... Love you, YOU... |
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vlraynes Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229Somewhere... out there... |
And, JM?... Hugging you back, my friend... Love you... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
This is, of course, for everyone who peers in, stays this long, and hugs this tight... One way or another, after a few days' reflection [which I probably need a bit more of...] I have been wondering where to put this little vignette of a cavern’s light and dark, unseen if Edison fails [and of course, there was an original, still glowing Edison bulb, called, affectionately, a stalaglight]…in this little area, and for those of you who have not yet visited Colorado Spring’s Cave of the Winds, this area is affectionately called, “The Oriental Garden”.  As previously stated sublimely via a few poems in Open, my vacations tend to be rushed. Things to do/see are packed too tightly into one day. I have, in the last 24 years, relied on my camera more and more. When I heard the tour guide mention the name of the Oriental Gardens, and while my own eye could see some of this, my inner eye knew there was more…instinctively; and I knew that this was a garden for serenity’s Journal. And if you see what I do, you will know why this photo will not appear any other place than in here. To the left, I see a huge face of a heavy man, sweating, his long nose portraying generations of toil, and who holds a very pointed opinion. Not quite Pinocchio, mind you, but one who has poked his nose into business not his own. To the far right front, there is a guardian of sorts. I have tried to discern exactly what kind of guardian, but there remains a mist about him [who stands guard from those who would enter unwisely] and he is both a gentle giant, and a diminutive angel. I find great comfort in looking to the right, while wisely adhering the whispered words of the giant on the left. But in looking inside, toward serenity’s garden, I see poets, philosophers, storytellers, and those who are wise enough to not speak, but just listen. Look at them. They glow in their abilities to understand, articulate, or just sense emotions that would be carved in stone. Some are clad in white, some, visible in their golden auras; and some just appear bronze in color. I see races of people, coming together. I sense sorrow, and pleasure; I feel life, and death. It is a garden that says, “even in the dark, we can grow.” Even when there is no light…there is still life. Somehow, since returning, and reading of so much sadness, not only here in PiP, but in my own real-time losses, I knew something like this would come about. I didn’t realize at first what would be said, or what might be taken from these few words, or this small photo…and maybe it is only I who will gain something from this sharing. All I know is, it is another birth, and if you were here right now, feeling my emotions, and kissing away my own insecurities and fears, then you, too, would know, that these words, and this photo, is exactly where they need to be. In serenity’s garden. Where passions live…in poetry, in sharing, and in love. Oh…I hear a sound…. |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
I have only been here 2 years off and on as I can but this thread I dont recall seeing a more honest sharing thread as this one now over a thousand posts a place of real pain and healing joy and sadness and this is what should be empathy-- love's oceanic fire in clothing dimmed just enough so there is enough for everyone all of you give me hope |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
"Some are clad in white, some, visible in their golden auras; and some just appear bronze in color. I see races of people, coming together. I sense sorrow, and pleasure; I feel life, and death. It is a garden that says, “even in the dark, we can grow.” Even when there is no light…there is still life." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  but the sun is always shining somewhere  (amazing pic Kari) |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
I've never felt anything quite like it, as I looked at your picture and read your words Karilea... Thank you... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Bri? Happy Second Anniversary, my friend. I note that we do have the same date...which makes me very, very happy... Kismet! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Oh, my gosh. I read your poem last night Karilea, and stared at the picture. It gave me chills and brought me to tears. I thought, oh, maybe you are just tired - go to bed...take a look at it again to-morrow. Well, I just did, and here I am in tears and awe again. Sometimes when I read in here, my hands fly off of the keys as if my fingers were shocked and I sit back in my puter chair holding my breath for a second or two. It's hard for me to explain, but I know that most of you understand. It's frightening .. yet .. comforting .. spiritual .. yet "matter of factual" lol. Oh, I am rambling again. I just love you all and pray for each and everyone of us. tipping her tiara, Chris heads off to the garden, pen and paper in hand |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Chris heads off to the garden, pen and paper in hand ... ~*~ Now, that's the best thing I've read all day!!! Yes, honey, I do understand. I've had those jolting moments too...when someone's insight just leaves me speechless.... I usually find them in here, in serenity's garden.... |
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Fagin Member
since 2004-05-07
Posts 126Ca |
Awesome photo... Seems it's true.. the camera CAN see what the heart yearns for... By the way, If you look closely you'll see that the Guardian is actually a Gargoyle. Way to go Sis |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Maureen, my thoughts and heart go out to you in the loss of your sister. You are held closely right now in the hearts of so many pipsters. |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Serenity, nobody says what you say better! .....jo |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Karilea, what an eye! what a heart! and what a write! Wish I had been there with you. I loved your writing about the Garden and it does seem like this is the perfect place for it. I am so sorry to hear about your loss and my thoughts are with you. .....jo |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Wow. (I guess it wouldn't surprise you to know that I've been there.) I'll have to go visit my mom and see, but I swear I believe we have a snapshot of the same place. It's been kinda freakin' me out. But this is just one of the bestest presents. I come here, and read this journal (which I started as a joke, actually) and I see all of you here, and I feel like I gave a potluck party and scored BIG. It's like the old question, 'if you could have a dinner party with whomever you like from history, whom would you invite?' and I said, "anybody can come" (which is pretty much how I answer) and then? all of the world's best souls showed up, in the reincarnated pennames of you all. Karilia? "Serenity's Garden"--ROCKS. Thank you. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
"I come here, and read this journal (which I started as a joke, actually)" ~*~ To moth this, you ain't neva lied... Which, when I go back to page one, and read the first post, hearing myself giggling, knowing even then, "yea, she's just joking around..." and then we all fall into serious mode... and interact... well, heck, Gertrude, what did you expect? That you would have an identical photo doesn't surprise me, either... ...hope it brought back some good memories. Mayhap, a story or twelve??? How's the kitchen coming? As for serenity's Garden...well, I know the tour guide called it the Oriental Garden...but it sounded just so much better, MY way... which is what you let me, and the others, do. That is, being ourselves, letting our hair down, safely, with no fear of retribution, and only for those so inclined to wade through the pages left behind in these numerous posts...you've provided a fairly safe haven... which ROCKS! LOL...you know my best place in the house, right? Yep...around the kitchen table...*smile* |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
There is a story I've been trying to avoid, so tonight I may take my notebook and do some scribbling... not feeling too well today, I'm afraid. (no worries) sheesh. Let me just put it this way-- A word of advice from the witch? Never, and I mean, never make jokes about uranus being retrograde. *wince* tain't funny. (oh the things I confess online...) sigh |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Now did I, or did I not, question your use of that particular exclamation? Hmmmm? Oh, get better soon.... and then? Hee Hee... share. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
yup. I seem to be having a hard time today. (somebody STOP me!) grin... but um, yes, the story I have in mind has much to do with my tendency to carelessly voice words that shouldn't even be thought. My mother warned me too. I'm apparently hard-headed too. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Here ya go--the short version--for reasons I'll leave left untyped. * * * On a more serious note, I'm not quite sure if I told this story in the forum as of yet--I do know I confided in a couple of friends here at Pip. My conscience was killing me. Y'see, I felt responsible for the death of my father-in-law. My father-in-law died, quite unexpectedly of heat stroke, just one week after my own father's services. When I say I feel responsible, it's not because of anything that I did--no one asked him to mow the lawn at noon in July in New Orleans during a heat wave. This much I understand. But it was what I said to my husband--words I can never take back--that leave me with that sense of "fault". (For those of you who have heard the story, bear with me. I was quite insane for a quite awhile after the death of "the dads", and quite intoxicated for much of the time as well, so I no longer have any idea of to whom who I may have told this story, or how many times.) * * * I was reminded of it, though, as I thought of our friends who are in the fresh process of grief--that "surrealistic" layered place of being in a place and observing yourself being there simultaneously. nod. Most of us know that place, it's foggy and weird and you want it to be a bad dream but you know that it's not, but it has every quality of unreal, so there is still some hope that someone will come along and shake you, saying "Wake up." The hope is that the person waking us will be the person that we just "lost". * * * So there I was, going through the routines of life, because there is nothing else to do but go on. Everyday activity feels odd--just brushing my teeth was an exercize in concentration as I slipped in and out of the layers, first being there, then observing myself. Finally, after a week of this, I told my husband. "Take the kids and go somewhere." I'd bought a fifth of whiskey and I wanted to be alone. I was going to explode and it wasn't going to be pretty. He knows me well, so he did just that, and that night was a night of madness that I'll not describe tonight. I screamed. I cried. I laughed. I begged my dad to let me "see" him. That didn't happen. I stayed up all the night, all the morning, and into the next day, when I went to my mom's and collapsed in my father's bed. They hadn't changed the sheets, and I could still smell him and I just dived into his bed, curling & relieved and sleeping for the first time in a very long time. There were flecks of his blood, still on the pillow, and I touched them, just glad to be that close to his essence again. I slept off the whiskey all afternoon, until I was awakened that evening by my husband, who was rudely kicking the bed and hollering at me, demanding to know why I was there, and not at home, where I said I would be. It was a mean ugly moment of life that I would rather forget. I woke snarling--and all of my rage was directed at him. I hissed at him and said, "You don't know this feeling yet--but someday you will. On the day that you do, you're going to understand just what you've done to me today. You're going to apologize too, and I can't say that I'll be able to forgive you." I said that to him on Saturday. He found his father dead on Monday. * * * When I found out about his father, I called my mother, and said, "Mom? I did something terrible..." and I told her what I had said to him. "Oh Karen? How many times have I told you to be careful with your words?" I'm not sure, but I think she wept with me. * * * And yes, on the day his father died, my husband did remember. And just as I'd predicted, he told me that he really hadn't understood, and would I forgive him? "Only if you forgive me." * * * Words have power. Both of my parents taught me that. But I misunderstood. I thought that they meant that we had the ability to wish things into being by using words. After three years of guilt and a lifetime of mishaps with words, I understand now, that words have power in a different way. They can uplift, they can condemn, they can cause pain and ease it. They can persuade, entice, and incite. And yes, if abused, they can haunt us for the rest of lives... * * * So? Smile? I keep my fingers crossed and pray that this writing stuff is a good thing. Thanks for listening. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
quote: Not one to ever outdo you, I know I cannot. And I wouldn't want to try. But so many parallels.... so many. Like, guilt over a father-in-law's death. I'll be back. But before I come back? HUGE HUGS FOR your serenity garden....where all good things grow because there is all mixtures of manure, good soil, honest seed, and lots of rain... and even more sunshine and serenity.... I have superpowers...that are used for good and useful purposes. Let me know if you ever want to change the name of this thread from serenity's interactive journal to serenity's garden.... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Sheesh. Y'had to go and mention manure... but a good garden needs a bit of that--and funny? but soon after I posted this? Well. Let's just say I don't about Uranus--but mine is on the mend. *chuckle* and I love the compliment of Serenity's Garden. But I think I'll just let it be what it says it is...y'see? I go back and forth in my head, thinking about this journal, and that ugly voice in my head sometimes says as I read this, "Now isn't this just the most self-serving crapola you've ever written?" And I can answer, with a smug smile. "It's a journal." (I like the etymological ties of "journal" with "journey" too.) But hey? You just keep supplying the sunshine. I got PLENTY of manure. *chuckles and hugs* |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
The thing about manure and sunshine…. ~*~ The thing about the in-laws…. Was that I liked them very much. Being 18, almost 19, I held them in high regard, looking to see the similarities of our family’s lives. Well. First of all, I would have not seen my folks leave piles of newspapers on the couch in expectance of the newlyweds. “Well, shoot,” I said in strict undertone to myself, “we aren’t expecting to stay overnight.” Oh yes, we were. Coming out to Illinois from California, we heard the disastrous news of September, 1970…GM was laying off everyone. My new husband had been, through GI extravagances, honored his job back from which he left, had he been working, to serve his four years. Well, he had been working at GM, a local station that served for the general parts department in the state that he was returning too [state unsaid, who needs grief?] Now, I first met his folks a couple of days before the wedding. And while I still revere the faces of his folks? I would say in all honesty, I told my girls, “meet the proposed in-laws first….” If, for no other reason, just to see how far from the tree the apple falls. And I am honest in that. Unfortunately, we always don’t get to see the other side of the tree and the side of its fall…no matter what. I loved my in-laws. I love the one in-law by second marriage that I have gained. But there are always self-guilts. Like the one with the first father-in-law. The in-laws had “left” us their home in the arm-pit of the world home town, and not knowing better, I said “yes, we will accept your offer” of the house that, in all appearances, was a Disneyland nightmare of a bad dream. Yes, I usually called it the Mickey Mouse home of horror. Well, in this house…. To be continued…. |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
L@ve the pic Karilea, maybe it's the lack of sleep but the central formation, if you squint looks like a goddess statue(fitting), and the surrounding rock like worshippers ..um..yeah. shrugs I miss photography (sighs) too expensive a hobby for me now. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Gawd I luv you guys!!!Words...yes. Words can calm and soothe or upset and cut like a knife. Words can heal and words can open old wounds. But, you Karen, did not cause a death with your words of anger and sadness. You know, it's strange, but as much as words have power - so does the opposite - silence. When someone gives me the "silent treatment", it drives me crazy! I cannot understand what it is that I have done to deserve it. My parents used this technique on me alot if they were disappointed in me. First they would yell, but yelling or scolding always drove my sweet mother to tears herself, so she would shut me out. Dad had a way of being silent and smoking his cigs in the dark when I came home after a dance or whatever. I would see the red glow of the ash in the blackened livingroom. Then out of the darkeness came a voice not unlike that of Humphrey Bogart..."Where have you been Durango?!" Yes, I said Durango. LOL. Nancy Lee is probably rolling with laughter right now. Dad liked to throw in that old cowboy word for special effect. LOL. Made the hair stand on end inside of my stetson hat I'll tell ya! Oh, I have gotten off track as usual. Anywhooo....I think that all of us have said something it the heat of anger that we wish we could take back. I know I have. All we can do it make ammends. Because, as most of us know....whatever we give out, comes back to us sometimes tenfold anyway! You can't put anything past the universe. I'm goin' to bed now. Happy Canada Day to all my Canuck friends tomorrow!! Hugs all round, Chrislane  |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Nodding and hugging Chrislane-- I just told someone in correspondence on the net, "please answer me--I equate silence with disapproval." wow. Me and twist sing this one to each other, remembering the darker times. Written by Carly Simon--it always reminded us of our father: "My father sits at night with no lights on His cigarette glows in the dark. The living room is still; I walk by, no remark. I tiptoe past the master bedroom where My mother reads her magazines. I hear her call sweet dreams, But I forgot how to dream." --Carly Simon wow. smiles. thanks for blooming here, Chris. |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
I remember that song. Wissssse song, 'twas! |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
"I equate silence with disapproval." *nodding* Or hate. When I was maybe 14 yrs old my mother gave me the silent treatment for months. I had no one and just knew she hated me. I would try to talk to her and she would act as if I didn't exist. I would go to my room, turn on Rod Stewart and cry. Later, I found that she didn't hate me, she just wanted me to disappear. She blamed me for my fathers deeds and thought if I was gone the threat was gone and life would be good again...for her. I gave her what she wanted...I joined the Navy at 17 yrs old and she got me a suitcase for a graduation present. *sigh* I am stronger now and my mother knows she messed up on some level. I took away their power to hurt me. *smile* But silence can still make me pause. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" ~Sarah McLachlan~ [This message has been edited by Susan Caldwell (07-01-2004 10:28 AM).] |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
But silence can still make me pause. ~*~ And yet...silence can keep me from saying the things that would hurt the most, truth being what it is. I go silent in an argument, because sometimes there's just no winning when the other side doesn't want to see the real problem. Stating the problem would only make the screaming louder. But a parent's silence always seems to hurt more. I know. I got it, too. The marriage to the first husband wasn't going to be "so bad" until we informed Mom that we were moving to Illinois. [Later, I found out things about my first husband that proved my folks to be right about their concern that I would be so far away.] So, Mom gave me [and most of the rest of the family] the silent treatment for about three months. I finally went to Dad and said, "can't you do something?" I never knew what he said, exactly [although I can guess] but Mom's way of coming around was to ask, "well, are we going to get this wedding planned, or what?" Years later I had a chance to tell her both thank you, and that I was sorry, in some ways, to know that her "red flags" over the whole matter were so right on target... yep. It's not easy growing up. For either side. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Hugs Serene One. Susan, ouch! That story hurts. Placing blame is another terrible tool to use on someone. But, you came through it - much stronger it seems. Although I don't know you well. When I first became pregnant at age 17, it not only upset Mom and Dad and embarrassed me to no end, but it turned the relationship that I had with my Mom upside down. I had overturned the applecart. I had demolished the future. So came the silence. I was terribly ill the first 4 months of my pregnancy. But, especially the first two. I could not eat, nor even keep water down. No one paid any attention to me. I only talked with one person, my sister Nancy Lee, but she lived at that time in Michigan. So, it was day after day of staggering to the bathroom and back to my bed. No words exchanged from the lady whom I adored. Not even a head poking in my bedroom with those brown eyes sparkling, smile that lit up any room. Nothing. Just nothing. I thought for certain that I was dying. And in death I would feel shame. All I did was vomit and cry. Pretty picture eh? My Dad finally couldn't take seeing me so sick any longer. He came into my room and said these words that sound so silly now, but were the most wonderful words to me then. He asked, "how ya perkin' perky?" "Not so good Dad" I squeaked and started to cry. With a quick touch of his magical hands to my damp cheeks, he left the room. I could hear him in the kitchen telling my Mom that I was very sick and something should be done. Things changed after that. A little. I was included in conversation and meals (if I could eat) and a wedding was planned - minus the joy that usually accompanies such a happy event. But the cutting words were not done yet. My mother, and believe me, she was never known to be this way. Her heart was pure and she just loved people. I had killed her dreams for me and this hurt and frightened her more than anything. Afterall, she was dying of cancer and would be gone less than 10 months after my wedding. Her words to me about the wedding? "I will be there, but don't think I'm gonna cry!" I felt worthless. Now that I am older - much older - I can look back on that day and wish I could hold my mom in my arms and comfort her. You see, what I remember now after I swept all of my own hurt and anger away is.....I remember her saying that piercing sentence.....then walking swiftly away, high heels clickety, clickety(how I adored the quick little fairy steps)turning into her bedroom, slam of her door, then.......sobs. My Mom was crying. Crying as any truly, loving mom would who has just injured her child with words. I miss her so much. I just want her to know that I understand. I really, really understand. Hugs All. oops...hi Karilea!! |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
Ah silences, i've known a few silly humans |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Before I read any further, I need to say something...... First of all I want to offer sweet Maureen my condolences for the loss of her sister and to let her know that I'm just an e-mail away... I read the other night and saw Karilea's thought-provoking picture and couldn't say anything then....the picture and her words really touched me...... Then last night I read and couldn't say anything....then today when I read this far, I need to say something because I may not tomorrow or after I read further.........so, Karilea said..... As for serenity's Garden...well, I know the tour guide called it the Oriental Garden...but it sounded just so much better, MY way... which is what you let me, and the others, do. That is, being ourselves, letting our hair down, safely, with no fear of retribution, and only for those so inclined to wade through the pages left behind in these numerous posts...you've provided a fairly safe haven... which ROCKS! LOL...you know my best place in the house, right? Yep...around the kitchen table...*smile* These is so true, Karilea. It seems like we are in a place that is always open for anyone who decides to come in....and no-one is ever turned away, but welcomed with open arms. It seems so many of us need this haven...... Then, I read this that you wrote Karen, and even though the booze isn't involved with me, (though I've been very tempted of late), this is so how I've been feeling lately....and I haven't lost anyone that is close to me.... Serenity wrote..... (For those of you who have heard the story, bear with me. I was quite insane for a quite awhile after the death of "the dads", and quite intoxicated for much of the time as well, so I no longer have any idea of to whom who I may have told this story, or how many times.) * * * I was reminded of it, though, as I thought of our friends who are in the fresh process of grief--that "surrealistic" layered place of being in a place and observing yourself being there simultaneously. nod. Most of us know that place, it's foggy and weird and you want it to be a bad dream but you know that it's not, but it has every quality of unreal, so there is still some hope that someone will come along and shake you, saying "Wake up." The hope is that the person waking us will be the person that we just "lost". * * * So there I was, going through the routines of life, because there is nothing else to do but go on. Everyday activity feels odd--just brushing my teeth was an exercize in concentration as I slipped in and out of the layers, first being there, then observing myself. Yes, this is how I've been feeling of late and I don't know what to do about it.......it won't seem to go away....... Well, I need to go for now....my head is hurting very badly and I'm going to lie down....maybe it'll go away...........I'll read more later. Know that I love all of you..... |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
Hey ya'll...to those who are so inclined, please say a quick prayer for the moth and her patio kittens. Thanks... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
So inclined, indeed... ~*~ Ladies, you've left a lot for me to feast upon...and ponder over...I'll be back to you... in the meantime? Welcome, Grant Thomas, 8# 7 oz, 21 and 3/4 inches, born at 1:45, my sixth grandchild, my third grandson. |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Congratulations Kari!!!!!!! "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
pg43post1061 Is where I leave off as I am leaving tomorrow for NYC. Love to you all!! Keep safe and happy. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
LOL...Susan...I'm chuckling here...have a safe trip...we'll be sure to add plenty of reading material for your return home! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Let’s see…ah yes… The in-laws had “left” us their home in the “armpit of the world” home town, and not knowing better, I said “yes, we will accept your offer” of the house that, in all appearances, was a Disneyland nightmare of a bad dream. Yes, I usually called it the Mickey Mouse home of horror. Well, in this house…. I experienced the miracle of pregnancy and oncoming motherhood with my first child. That’s another story. But to frame this in its context, we’ll fast forward nine months to the baby’s birth, and the news that her paternal grandparents would “come home to see the new baby”…and she, the 13th one of their lot. I guess I didn’t expect such exuberance over the 13th, albeit my first. So, when June came around, so did the grandparents. I couldn’t believe how much my father-in-law had aged in a year’s time. And just as round as ever, bless his heart. I had thought I had helped my mother-in-law with his overeating problem, but he had discovered how to raid the ‘fridge. Who says old dogs can’t learn? And of course, there was a bit of to-do over the baby…after four days of to-doing, with me working, hubby in-between jobs [again], me coming home to feed everyone, me doing the laundry, me wondering what everyone else was doing during the day while I was at work [other than to-doing over the baby]…I couldn’t say I was sorry to see them leave to visit other family members. A few hours after they left, we got the phone call that Dad had experienced a heart-attack. Oh geez…. So homeward bound they were, to have Dad stay in the hospital, and Mom with us, as we were only blocks away from the hospital, as opposed to her other son who lived miles away in another town. It was a stressful five days, and it came about that in order to save on medical expenses, the decision was made to move Dad to the VA hospital up in Chicago. But….he didn’t want to go. Oh my god, was he angry that we would even think of moving him to a VA hospital, “where people go to die!” And I had a really bad feeling. I asked Mom if I should go in and talk to him, give him something else to think about, and she turned on me, saying, “he wouldn’t be in there if we hadn’t come to see the baby!” Oh. Oh. The VA ambulance came to make the transfer. He fought them all the way. He died, 20 miles out of town. They came back. Mom’s grief was evident. All of the six brothers and sisters were reunited once again, under the roof of their family Mickey Mouse horror house. Six brothers, and several children. In a house of about 1000 square feet. One of the sisters got a hotel for herself. The others slept wherever. I was still cooking for everyone, and felt invisible to everyone. Nothing but the servant – feeding, cooking, washing, etc., because, after all…I wasn’t blood. The decision for a memorial in his home town, and a funeral in Florida, was made. I had never been to Florida, and thought I would speak quietly with my husband to find out how we were going to afford going – our car was truly not road worthy for that kind of trip. That’s when I found out – I wasn’t going. Simply because – we couldn’t afford it. “I’m still unemployed – you don’t have enough vacation time. Besides, the baby will just make a lot of noise – and Mom can’t take it.” Oh. OH! The memorial service was nice, and flowers were everywhere. Then, every potted plant and arrangement found its way to the Mickey Mouse house of horrors. And after almost a full two weeks of constant commotion, everyone was gone. All six brothers and sisters, their children, and Mom. Only the baby, myself, and floral arrangements remained, along with my guilt, over having had a baby that killed her grandfather on his first visit back home. I tried to be rational. I tried to convince myself that having a baby girl and having her grandfather visit was NOT the reason that he had died. He had died…because he had a heart attack. I remember trying to talk to him, that first night after everyone left. I tried to speak to the green walls [every wall was green in the house – every wall – because he had found a “sale” on war-green paint] thinking he would hear me. I was never sure if the sound in my head was him, or what I wanted to hear. “It was not your fault. It was my time.” Yes, but Mom said…. Oh. Oh. Guilt. One of the heaviest veils. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Ah... Welcome to the family. OH boy do I ever understand... In my adventures of understanding with the in-laws, I have twisted my mind into pretzels trying--and it doesn't matter. I'm still "weird". So I say this like a mantra: "They just don't know any better." After 28 years, I still don't believe they like me much--and I tend to get quiet and observatory at "his" family reunions. But after comparing notes, I think we've found a place of mutual respect--from a distance. and Kari? People can say horrible things in the throes of grief. smile? I know. * * * and ethel? I'm here for you, if you need an ear. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
After 28 years, I still don't believe they like me much--and I tend to get quiet and observatory at "his" family reunions. But after comparing notes, I think we've found a place of mutual respect--from a distance. and Kari? People can say horrible things in the throes of grief. smile? I know. ~*~ Yep, I know you know... that's why I shared. ~*~ Ethel? talk to me. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
Be careful, Susan...and have fun!! Karen and Karilea.... talk about the past or the present? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Ethel... Both. |
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garysgirl
since 2002-09-29
Posts 19237Florida, USA |
I have trouble sometimes understanding myself. How could I have loved so deeply a man for so many years that was abusing my little girl? How could I not have known what was happening? And, also, how can any good memories of mine and his life together stay in my mind? How could any good memories have even been made? There is so much anger in my heart over the way I have found out (since he died) that he treated my daughter. And, now, I'm allowing it to affect my relationship with my sweet, loving, and patient Gary. If I could be deceived by someone like my late husband, how do I know that I couldn't be deceived again? I thought that my heart and mind were being true to me then. Well, I've never said that to anyone before. If I told Gary that, he would be so very hurt to think that I would even have a small thought that he would hurt me intentionally. But, he has taken the time to know me so well that I'm sure he already knows how this has affected my thinking and feeling. And, I also know beyond a doubt, that Gary would still love me no matter my feelings. He loves me unconditionally...in spite of myself and my moods...and I do believe that nothing will ever change that. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Outside of this forum, Ethel, I would go so far as to say you might be in need of some counseling, so that {1} you know it's OK to be angry and {2} to realize that there is nothing you can do about the past and {3} get the advice and help you need to make a good future with you and Gary. Speaking to the past, allowing it to be in the present, such as you did now, is sometimes the first step to clearing up the muddy waters of confusion, hurt, pain, and shock. I know you have spoken of this before, but it seems to be weighing even more on your mind lately. I'm concerned, too, Ethel, that you are blaming yourself more and more for what you "should have seen" and didn't. But you cannot do anything about that now...you can only go forward and make the amends with your daughter, as best you can. Gads, honey, I feel for you. Please know you're in my heart, and in my prayers... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
I agree with Karilea. Ethel, sometimes we need a professional's point of view on how and why we feel the way we do. Both physically and emotionally. Guilt, anger and hurt can keep piling up year after year without us even realizing how mountainous the crap has become. There is a saying from a writer whom I cannot remember her name now, and she says, 'you did what you did, cause it's all that you knew ... now you know better.' So, in other words, you have made your apologies to your daughter for being human and not seeing what was going on, the evil man is dead, clean future awaits. Learning to trust again is a great task I know, believe me. But, if we don't take that chance, we may be missing out on something wonderful. Oh! I love that song Something Wonderful from The King and I. Sorry....I drifted off there for a moment. Anyway, Gary seems to be such a patient and understanding man, just bask in the glory of this blessing. Try to enjoy the coming years with your daughter as much as possible - they fly by. Continue loving Gary - he sounds great. These are just my opinions remember. Seeing a therapist has done me wonders. What it has done to my therapist is another story! Be well, luv ya! Chris |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Ethel--I'm going to have to agree with the ladies here. Emotional support, we have plenty, but the sharing of experiences will only go so far. A good therapist will give you the tools you need to make a difference in your life. Please don't mean this to sound like we're shooing you away--we're not. We say this because we love you, our sister. And I believe that Gary loves you too, and he will understand. (and I'm sure he already suspects that much of your past is still in play in your current relationship and he may even be relieved to learn that you are seeking an unbiased opinion) Now c'mere and gimme a hug, and remember that when you feel lonely or frightened, we'll be here to listen--but a therapist will help you to take a pro-active stance on the hauntings of your past. Much love, dear one. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and with my apologies for the swift change of subject, but it's come to my attention that some people are having difficulty loading this thread-- should I have this'n locked, and start a part II? |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I can help out, if need be... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Okay Kari! You lock her up, and I'll go open the annex. Thanks, you! came back to add-- continued here: /pip/Forum29/HTML/001669.html Now lock her up already! |
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