Quote of The Day

Saturday, September 30, 2006

Celebrating Six Months with Brownies

Giggles Fudge Brownies

1-cup butter cream together add
2 cups of sugar the other ingredients
4 Heaping Tblsps. Cocoa
4 beaten eggs
1Tsp Vanilla
1 cup Flour
1-cup pecans chopped


2 cups icing sugar
4tblsp butter (at least) Mix together while
2tbsps cocoa BROWNIES are
2tblsp Boiling water cooking. Ice
2tsps Vanilla or 4 IMMEDIATELY after

Bake in greased 9x13 pan 350o 40-45 min
Top will appear underdone (falls in the middle) but don’t overcook. Should be moist and chewy

Brownies, what better way to celebrate Six months of blogging! It’s been a fascinating process of self discovery; I hope to continue gaining even more insight. I love the world of bloggers, I was hoping to come up with something more profound for today. But alas my brain is mush. Instead I share my much requested brownie recipe. There were a few years in my life where I made this recipe so often that I could read the disappointed faces when attended a gathering, void of brownies. Make sure to cover them after the first day, to assure moistness! Remember to use more vanilla in place of water for a perfect consistency of icing. Enjoy, I trust you won’t be disappointed.

Today I'd like to also leave you with a very short video clip called Your Path!

Friday, September 29, 2006


A while back I bought this long wool pashmina for six Canadian dollars at a thrift store. Unfortunately these pictures don’t do it justice. The photo is lacking the brilliant teal tone threaded through the color. I hung it on a closet door so you could see the length. Hoping I’d also capture the more accurate color. It’s closer to the true color which also matches the walls in my upstairs loft. My plan is to wash and shrink it, as part of the felting process. It will be made into a purse, which I saw sold at an Art show for eighty dollars. I sure hope it works. The first one will be for my daughter. If I’m successful I may be on the hunt for more old wool sweaters and scarves to make as Christmas presents. Half the battle will be finding colors trendy enough. It’s my first try, so wish me luck.

Hot Flash

I’ve had a rash of moderate body heat elevation for quite a few years now. So I was quite surprised by my first official HOT FLASH that appeared two nights ago. My pale pasty while anemic looking face (instigated by "The flow") was flared red. OMG I'm flushing! I haven’t been that crimson since I was pregnant with Pepper. I chuckled amongst the shock. I’ll be saving money on rouge I guess. There was no evidence of sweat beads on my forehead like my portly aunt used to have. I sighed with relief. Am I fooling myself, could the perspiration nightmare be skulking around the corner? Coming into winter I can hopefully keep it at bay. Providing I maintain my trend of layering clothing. I used to wonder why my mother owned so many white sleeveless tops. Pepper won't have to speculate about my many black ones. I am a least keeping her abreast of these lovely lady functions. That way she won’t wonder what happened to her jovial fun mommy, when the permanent PMS monster comes out to play. I’m trying to go all natural with this menopause thing. How natural can it be, flashing like a stop sign at the most inopportune moments? The fan is my friend. We spend many hours together lately. Note to self, I need to find a portable purse fan!

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Make Hugs Not War!

While visiting Oceandreamer one of my favorite daily blogs, I experienced a must see video, Please watch this short clip and pass it on if you can!

Poetry Thursday "Soothe Savory"

Poetry Thursday

Soothe Savory

Red face furor
Feverish in
Pink passion
The might
Silver daggers
Thread through
Black silence
Green unheard
Coral radiates
Escalates orange
Dab of blue
Back to red
Agitated hue
Purple hugs Saturate
Ease anxiety
Lilac lurks

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Hard Candy

Controversial INDY film alert. “Hard Candy” it’s not for everyone. Powerful, thought provoking movie, about a pedophile. I won’t give you any particulars as it will spoil the movie. Pepper and Bryan thought it was twisted and “F%&*ed up, although they really enjoyed it. Extremely suspenseful, great acting, with an unusual plotline, not to be imagined. Ellen Page flawlessly delivered an incredible volume of believable dialog. If you’re brave enough to broach this movie, then what ever you do, “DO NOT TURN IT OFF”, even if you feel some scenes are too revolting. It’s also imperative that you watch the commentary afterwards. Personally I was on the edge of my seat the whole movie. There would almost be room for a sequel to this. I had so many questions at the end. You will either Love it or Hate it; I doubt there is any in between. Please contact me with your thoughts if you view it. Positive or negative, either way I'm interested. Thanks!

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Mikey in the Middle

Mike flanked by the brothers Bryan and Dave.

Mikes back, the boys showed up Sunday night for a BBQ which Bryan skillfully cooked. Band practice turned into a homecoming for Mike. It was cool to see this guy we all love, leave as a kid, and return as a MAN. Mike lived with me for a stint when he was eighteen. I still feel there is a forever bond I will have with him. Never any trouble, a good human being, I always enjoyed his company. A very intelligent person with great manners he was always willing to help. At times Pepper and Mike were at odds because she had some difficulty sharing me with another. Yet she missed him when he was away, being an only child, I think Mike fills a sibling void for her. She was so excited to see him too. Sometimes people just need a soft place to fall, my abode has always been that place.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Joansing to blog

It was just a grand weekend. So much activity, I shared time with such great people. No more depressing poetry. I was however Joansing to blog all weekend long. Every so often I’d sneak up to read a few lines, just to get my fix.

Brenda’s the friend who had a stroke thirty months ago; she suffers with some difficulty in auditory processing which affects her speech. Yet this psychologist plans to get her doctorate degree, and wanted some assurance of the possibility of full recovery. Therefore we met up with Heather, a wonderful lady who is fourteen years recovered. She was kind enough to meet us on spur of the moment. After a pleasurable, informative few hours Brenda walked away with the best Birthday present of the day….”HOPE”!

We spoke extensively about all the different ways she may be able to improve her aphasia. We learned so much from Heather. One day I believe Brenda will be conducting seminars, further educating medical professionals about the many misconceptions surrounding stroke victims.

Both women have children who’ve successfully forged ahead in their lives. Within a few years of Brenda’s stroke, two of her children were married and she has two grandsons, One daughter moved to New York from British Columbia and the other is in business school and working two jobs. While Heathers daughter went down South to school and is now living and working in a hospital in Florida and playing professional soccer, her son travels the globe and is a famous male model whose face graces the many posters displayed in our department stores.

Fourteen years ago when I first met Heather, I couldn’t have imagined the fruition of bringing these two women together this weekend. I am profoundly proud of these special ladies who’ve defied all odds to become stronger than ever. Ultimately they’ve raised their children to be resilient, much like themselves!

Same Day

Saturday September 23rd, two of my favorite people shared the same Birthday. Mike just turned twenty three, back after a few years in Thompson Manitoba. Brenda visited from Kelowna B.C. for her 48th.

Friday night Brenda and I took in a Sheryl Crow, John Mayer concert; bought previously for my 50th in May!

It was a fantastic 4 1/2 hour concert, John Mayer was mesmerizing. Better than any video or cd that I’ve ever heard. His voice melodiously soulful filled the room with incredible energy. My favorite, a song with lyrics way overdue,

Sheryl Crow seemed sad, the first few songs lacked zeal. Forewarned by lyrics, “Are you strong enough to be my man?” sung with deep passion. Confessing she’d only ever dated Americans, but was willing to try a Canadian Man. Momentum picked up with “Let’s get Free”. From then on, she rocked and wooed the crowd.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Sunday Scribblings "Instructions"

Chin Up
Be brave
Plan ahead
Fix your teeth
Dissolve promptly
Decline hostility
Refuse reaction
Define agreements
Legally legible
Concise communication
Position boundaries
Preserve distance
Sustain refuge
Disperse anger
Request support
Change locks instantly
Discern escape
Protect children
Visualize future
Assume NOTHING!!!

Directions for Divorce

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Poetry Thursday " Demise"

Poetry Thursday
Work, pregnancy, baby
Showers, Birthday parties,
We shared it all
Happiness, holidays, haranguing
Negotiations, abuse, divorce
We shared it all
Devastation, degradation, humiliation
Harassment, horror, heroism
We shared it all
Illness, grief, trust
Broken cars, and marriages
We shared it all
Camping, beaches, parks
Ice-creams, picnics, shopping
We shared it all
Wine, flowers, Fashion
Laughter, wit, gossip
We shared it all
Secrets, silliness, sadness
Solace, sovereignty, patriotism
We shared it all
Books, movies, music
Stupidity, shallowness, shame
We shared it all
Opinion, opposition, angst
Worry, wonder, wishes
We shared it all
Then one day
A letter,
A lashing,

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

I wonder How Jack is?

I was reminded today of this little boy I met twelve years ago. Pepper was eight when she befriended a girl whose single mom was on assistance. I was married at the time and lived a quality lifestyle, in my dream home, a large rancher on a half acre property. Candace was a very nice young woman with three kids. She had some severe psychological issues and was riddled with depression. Her daughter Cally spent almost every day after school at our home.

It was quite unconventional for me to have a child overnight during the school week, but there was a stint when I let Cally stay at my place for three weeks straight. This tiny, thin blond girl with an angelic face was no trouble at all. She just craved adult attention. Cally had so much scholastic potential, but only ever attained average marks. One evening we studied together for a test, the next day she received her first “B” ever. My wise daughter wasn’t used to sharing her mom, but felt enough empathy for Cally that she made an exception.

Candace, the tall, slim, gorgeous young mother with long wavy chestnut hair and professionally manicured nails was always searching for a knight in shining amour to scoop her up and carry her away from lifes tribulations. Unfortunately the children were victims of her sadly narcissistic behavior and mental illness. Often times the eldest child at thirteen would do all of the cooking, cleaning and tending to the younger two.

Cally often brought Jack along to jump on our trampoline. He was a talkative spunky little five year old. I loved having that adorable munchkin around and would regularly invite the kids to stay for dinner. Cally was always guarded about her home life, but not Jack. Innocently boisterous, he would blurt out details of their lack of food and supervision.

At the time I had a huge, walk in pantry situated off my family size kitchen. I remember Jacks eyes, bright as moonbeams, when he first spied all the food nestled on the shelves. A very handsome fair haired boy, he was always extremely polite and ravenous when I offered him a snack. I made sure to put out lots of fresh fruits and vegetables when Cally and Jack were around. When they were about to leave I'd scoop up a few shopping bags of food and send it home with them.

The first time Jack saw the bags he ran back, threw his arms around my large size waist, hugged me as tight as he could manage for a little guy and sincerely thanked me for the food. I will never forget how overwhelmed I felt at that moment, with a combination of elation, sadness, gratitude, worry, adoration, and love. After that, it was upper most in my mind to make sure those kids always took something home when they left my place. Whether it was home made soup or cookies or just a box of cereal or crackers, I would discreetly stuff something in their back packs every time. I also sent extra lunch with Pepper so she could share with Cally. The children were always extremely grateful.

Eventually they moved, the next time I saw Candace, I was a single mom. Candace had a real good job, a boyfriend, and looked well. My daughter saw Cally a year ago and said she seemed good too. Today all I could think of was Jack. He’s seventeen, where is he now, how’s he doing, is he graduating this year, I wonder if he remembers coming to my home? He was such a doll, with personality plus, I hope he’s well. Today I send that family love, especially Jack who tugged away at my heart all those many years ago!

I have changed all the names in this story, except Jacks, so as not to offend anyone. It’s very unlikely that any of the people mentioned here would read this… but if by a miracle Jack did read this, I would want him to know I’m thinking of him and I would love it if he would contact me.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Circle Encounters

Last night I went to bed at a decent time, but alas, woke up with a start. No reason, except menopausal mania. I got up, made some Starbucks orange tea and honey, flicked on the television. Fanny Keifer was interviewing Author Charlotte Gray who wrote “The Reluctant Genius” about the somewhat eccentric yet passionate Alexander Graham Bell. Charming interview that captured my full attention.

Fanny’s second guest was Maureen Fitzgerald who’s in Vancouver promoting her book “One Circle”. She was explaining how to tap into the power of those who know you best. Ms. Fitzgerald endorses creating intimate circle meetings amongst respected people, where you can foster enough trust to enable development of skills to achieve goals, and generate change that helps you to become empowered.

For a few dinners my Goddess friends frequented this one restaurant called the Pepper House. Although the service wasn’t the best, the food was excellent the ambience a delight, we all sat in a circle booth. Something magical always happened on the nights we sat at that restaurant. No, we weren’t served quality coffee we all craved, but the wine was good, the owner was a doll who always selected the superior dishes for us and discretely disappeared enabling us to have intimate conversations. Instead of talking in pairs, we tended to alternate talking in the circle. It was an amazing experience. I’m deaf in one ear, yet I was able to see everyone and read lips on the occasions I didn’t catch every word. Having experienced these great round table sessions among friends makes me even more fascinated to read Maureen’s book. Wondering what the allure of the circle is, how and why it works so well. Ms. Fitzgerald feels there are some inexplicable spectacular changes that take place within these trusted circles, and is planning on expanding the dynamic of this practice, which is similar to the old school, once popular quilting bees, and Natives sacred circles.

Both books have grabbed my attention.

Monday, September 18, 2006

No bloggy....too much to do!

Things I have been doing for the last few days.

1) got the master cylinder in my car replaced
2) an oil change, with spark plugs and filter change plus some other $65.00 part replaced
3)that’s all done, and we find I need new brakes
4) then he gets the front brakes done…..and can’t get the back ones off
5) So that means another day and way more money to get the back ones done
6) visited my friend with the little guy whose disabled, he seems to have accomplished more in seven months than he has in two years prior to that.
7) Held and coddled her new 5 pound premature baby for a long time and loved it….normally I stay clear of babies…. I love children and little kids over two
I have a special bond with Selina who is now 36 was Peppers baby sitter when she was little. We’ve been friends for years now.
8) Made cookies with my other friends 10 year old boy, his dad was fixing my car, and spoke with her 23 year old who’s a brilliant girl in university. Also spoke with her 22 year old son who I haven’t seen in a few years. Those kids spent almost every weekend at my house when they were little.
9) Then my good friend Laura popped by with a bottle of wine, who could refuse that….I haven’t seen her in a while it was great to catch up.
10) I had no choice but to take a few naps on Sunday….I have had an excruciating back for almost a week, which I feel is probably a virus…..because a few days later my daughter had it.
11) Some of Bryan’s family is visiting tonight. Two of his sisters are getting married next summer.
12) My friend Brenda is coming this week from Kelowna
13) I was frustrated because my pictures wouldn't download onto blogger, yeah now they are!

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Sunday scribblings " Google Magic"

My mind was all over the map about Sunday scribblings. Much how my mind works. With bibs and bobs of information, flitting around, at all times. I usually Google search quite a few things each day, rarely retaining much of the minutia. Originally I was going to google search the bicorneal Uterus, mainly because my friend with a premature baby and a disabled child has one. There wasn’t much information, which was frustrating. Then I wanted to google the Movie “Friends with Money because I watched it this weekend and was hoping to see what was said about that. Which lead to a google search on the thirty-five signs of peri menopause. Not exactly a favored subject, as I am living and breathing it each day. Rehashing it is just an annoyance. Eventually I got to the search I had been pondering all month, Adult Emotional Maturity and the signs of one who is emotionally mature. Which gradually guided me into a site on the emotional intensity in gifted childern. I ended my labyrinth of google searches, reading way too long, instead of posting. So there you have it, my flutter brain in action. With a sprinkle of Gemini inserted. Anyway I didn’t want to go on a tangent, which I so often do. So I will leave you the links, you can follow my trail and see what I have learned today! If you like!

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Poetry Thursday "In Name Only"

In Name Only
A father in name only, finding his position a chore
Weary and worn by dissension, his calls, she’ll ignore
She use to jump to attention, just to hear his voice
When he abandoned his duties, it was never her choice
Depending on him is history, she’d not ask for a thing
Often when he calls, she leaves the phone ring
Sometimes when she answers, she chats, dribs and drabs
Retorts one word answers, as he rambles on, with his blabs
She used to have faith in him, that he may one day pay her due
A decade has passed now; still, he’s not come through
A lonely place for my child to be, unable to make requests
Resigned that he is just around, one of life’s awkward tests
Deep within her tender heart, she longs for what won’t be
A daddy who will understand, to count on, one to see
He won’t make the effort, excuses, are his game
She’s waited far too long now, for her dad, to own his name
Promise died long ago, buried deep within divorce
The guilt of who I thought he was fills me with remorse
She hasn’t had his support or time, only monthly was she seen
Daily calls he’d make to her, a pittance in-between
Devoted and loyal to her dad, cleared time to hold his hand
Yet he never recognized, how much, he was in demand
Cherishing the moments, when he’d make time to be at her side
Craving a connection where she’d feel his love with pride
Now her life is busy, and the stunts he’s pulled, are many
Fed up, by the hurt he’s caused, time for him, she hasn’t any
A heart of gold, her tears ran cold; and she’s tired of feeling sad
Still her soul yearns, for that man, to claim his name of dad.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Another English Comedy

Last week I watched a cute Indy film called “Kinky Boots” based on a true story. Shown at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival, it’s a sweet predictable film. I just adore English comedies so it was well worth my time. An amusing human interest story, light and easy to watch, with a fun musical score. If you're open minded to diverse lifestyles, you’ll appreciate how painful life can be when you just don’t fit into the mainstream.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

An Ordeal

Peppers ordeal came to mind while doing my Sunday scribbling. For five years now she’s worked part time for a DJ company during the Christmas and wedding seasons. A real go getter like my mother was, she’s always willing to work a six day week if the money is right.

Her job title is production assistant, where she oversees the Dee-jays at a facility housing six to eight wedding parties at a time. She makes sure all the wedding music is timed for the first dances, speeches, and bride’s entrance. As a people reader she’s able to predict what music is needed to get the party rolling. She also relieves Deejays for bathroom breaks, finds them appropriate music, and brings them non alcoholic drinks during their shift. Part of her job is to be the eyes, ears and voice for the owner of the company, dealing with prospective problems as they occur. Things need to be somewhat perfect during the wedding season; otherwise brides requisition a discount on services.

Last December, short on deejays for the Christmas season she was needed to actually take the place of a Deejay in the separate dinning hall from the weddings. So the company owner hired a young woman to be the production assistant for the one night.

Wearing a conservative black skirt, lime green sweater and knee high black pointed boots. I remember thinking how particularly stunning Pepper looked that night when I dropped her at work. She played music the whole night; random people came in off the street to have dinner. The dance floor was packed. Her replacement went from room to room, while Pepper coached her from the deejay booth in the dinning room.

Around ten p.m. Pepper fell ill. Approximately twelve thirty a.m. she packed up her Dee jay equipment then landed in the bathroom. Her whole body felt poorly, as though she may vomit. By the time I arrived to pick her up, at one thirty am, she was hanging onto the glass doors waiting for me. She struggled to the car, and was barely coherent. Bryan was patiently waiting for her in the office; he had been a Deejay that night in a separate part of the building. He too was concerned and surprised to see her hanging at the door waiting for me. He’d assumed she was still in the ladies room.

Bryan and I chatted in the car about a television we’d all picked out earlier in the day; Pepper threw a few garbled words into our conversation. Then she immediately fell asleep the rest of the drive home. It was a slight struggle to get her out of the car. She then slipped into her pajamas, took a pillow and slept on the bathroom floor afraid that she may vomit.

I woke her four hours later. She tried to call some of her staff to cover her shift at work, but no one was available. Still nauseous, she managed to get herself together, showered, shaved and shined. Couldn’t eat anything and still hadn’t vomited, but her stomach was extremely sore. She attended work, each hour she progressively felt better and better. Especially after she had something to eat.

Pepper is not a drinker. On occasion she’ll have one and sometimes two if coaxed. It was so odd that she was so out of it, when I picked her up. It played on my mind all day long. When she arrived home she ate a surprisingly huge supper, and felt even better, but still slightly woozy. I questioned her about the night before, asking if she had eaten anything out of the ordinary, or if someone had slipped liquor into her drink. I even asked her if she felt drunk. She answered no to all of it.

After much thought, I asked her if any men were hanging around her Deejay table. She said there were two, but none that gave her the no no feeling. She was pretty firm with them when they tried to touch the CD’s. Then I questioned who got her drinks, she told me the new young girl got them.

It dawned on me that the girl who took Peppers place for the night may not have been quite as attentive as Pepper was. Bryan and the other deejays were frustrated with her incessant talking and bad perfume. Then I had an intuition, I wondered if Pepper may have been drugged. I continued with more questions. Asking Pepper if she had watched the girl get her drink, she said she had. I inquired whether she was able to physically see the girl the whole entire time she was at the bar. She said no, because the counter was slightly around a corner. So for a few minutes that girl and the drink were out of site.

By the next day Pepper was perfectly normal and also questioning whether she had been drugged. She queried co workers who she thought may have information on others who've being drugged. One person explained their experience. It was a similar story in a different setting. Throughout the day she spoke to many people until she concluded that perhaps she too had been a victim of rohypnol, the date rape drug.

After other conversations, we narrowed our suspicions down to a creepy bartender. Pepper had witnessed the guy covertly chugging drinks behind the bar the previous night, grounds for dismissal if he’d been caught. The perpetrator may have assumed Pepper was on her own as an independent Dee jay. What better victim than a sedated, young innocent woman, appearing older than her nineteen years, possibly driving home alone after her late shift.

After a few days of pondering the situation and discussing it with others, I decided to consult her boss in a non accusatory way. It was more of an inquiry, and I was sure not to slander anyone. Peppers female boss, was horrified, yet felt it was more than possible. The male in question gave the boss the creeps long before this incident. Hairs on the back of her neck stand up every time he’s in her presence. She professes to have excellent radar for devious males. She’s always felt this man had deviant tendencies. Could we prove it? NO! Could we suggest he drugged Pepper? NO! Do we know for sure? NO! Are we almost certain? ABSOLUTELY! Does all the evidence add up? YES! Is he still working at that facility? YES! Does he still give the girls the creeps? YES!

In retrospect I should have taken her right to the hospital. It was too abnormal, that she could barely walk, how she digressed for a few hours and then improved after twelve hours. How she couldn’t recall getting in the car, or any of the conversation during the ride home. Thankfully I was there to pick her up, and get her home safe that night. I can only imagine what the prospects would have been had she been driving alone.

For any of the few times that I have resented driving late as night, this incident erased all of that. For all the times I have pleaded with Pepper to get her drivers license, this was the one time I was glad she didn’t have it.

I have heard many stories in the last few years. A few bars in Vancouver have the reputation of being a place where women are commonly drugged. I even know of a couple of girls who were drugged at a popular restaurant while drinking regular cokes. They got up to use the washroom. Left the table with their pizza and cokes, never imagining anyone would touch their drinks. One of girls could barely make it to her car; some guys just happened by and asked the young ladies if they needed help. Thankfully the girls had called a mom because the one girl had fallen ill so fast. That too, was a near miss, of what may have been a tragic situation.

My friends co-worker said her daughter was drugged, the girl and her friend drank the same shooters that everyone else drank. Apparently it is common for the men to take small doses of the drug before hand, to build a tolerance to it. So when the whole tray was served, everyone indulged, assuming it was safe coming from the waitress. The girls would be drugged, but the men were not affected. That information was supplied by an attending officer. After a few hours some drugs are non traceable in the blood. The police had been trying to catch a certain group of men that were party to that incident. Apparently it was regular occurrence at the one particular bar. The officers were privy to many women who had been assaulted using that method. There were traces of the drugs in the girls blood, the young ladies have no recollection of the sexual assault. Although they do know it occurred.

Another acquaintance had been drugged one night and then drove her car off the road into a farm field and was unable to remember anything that occurred after she entered her car. She did however recall only having two drinks early that evening. Another girl had her purse and identification stolen and didn’t recall the last moments of the night…..These are people I have met, all in their late twenties, early thirties.

You can’t make an accusation or assumption without proof. So many of these cases go unreported for whatever reason, some women feel ashamed for being duped, or perplexed about what transpired, some even doubt themselves, while others feel to blame because they drank too much. My daughter doesn’t care for nightclubs or bars. If she enters a bar it’s solely to watch Bryan’s band. She is always aware of her surroundings, rarely drinks, and has excellent intuition. History repeats itself. Many young people don’t really believe that cliché. It’s been happening since the age of my grandmother, and will continue to happen. I caution everyone to be safe and beware!

Monday, September 11, 2006

I Can't Watch it!

I can’t watch it on the news
The pain of a few short years ago
Extended to the nightmare
That continues on

I can’t watch the pictures of
Emasculated buildings,
Families, emergency workers
A country

I can’t watch the top dog
Spew his nonsense
Covering his tracks
For bad choices

I can’t watch
What they want me to watch
Choose for me to watch
Force me to watch

I can’t watch them lie to me
And the world
And their selves
And their people

I can’t watch other parents
Lose children
And children lose parents
Because no one will cease fire

I can’t watch my friends
Across the border
Suffering in silence
As one man is deaf to their plea

I can’t watch television today
And be flogged with history
Paraded continually on my screen
Evoking emotions I wish to keep buried

I can’t watch and be reminded
How devastated I was
That people had their loved ones
Stolen away without notice

I......JUST......CAN'T ........WATCH

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Sunday Scribblings I would never write " Susan's Shame"

At nineteen, dapperly dressed in a fashionable outfit, she closed the door behind the disarray of an alcoholic mother. A proper lady at only five feet tall, she appeared to the world as though life was normal in her world. She’d be meeting a young sailor for a date tonight, and was excited at all the possibilities. He took her to a club to dance.

She woke up nude, in a closet, with her underwear wrapped around her head. It was nineteen forty three, and that was not a lady like position to be in. She’s didn’t remember dancing, in fact she didn’t remember much of anything.

Mickey Finns, named after a notorious underworld Chicago bar owner in the late eighteen hundreds, who was famous for drugging his patrons with a sedative then stealing their money, proved to be a popular way of forcing demure young women, into unwitting sexual intercourse. Chloral hydrate, a form of sedative known as a Mickey Finn was slipped covertly into a woman’s drink. With the innocent woman incoherent, the male was then free to take advantage of her in an illicit way. Just like the male victims of the eighteen hundreds, the women had no recollection of what transpired when they awoke.

Humiliated and shocked by her state of confusion it was reasoned that she had been slipped a Mickey Finn. After some time at a medical facility, Susan was diagnosed with gonorrhea. A crotchety old nurse treated Susan harshly, speaking roughly in an accusatory tone. Vulnerable and terrified, Susan felt alone in her shame. Later the doctor revealed to the nurse that the young woman was still a virgin with hymen in tack. With the realization that Susan was not the promiscuous young women she once thought, the nurse’s voice softened as she comforted the frightened young girl.

To this day, it’s a mystery how Susan kept her virginity after being assaulted. It was assumed that the sailor tried to penetrate her, was either frustrated because she was so small. Or he was at risk of being caught in the act. Either way, his appalling actions caused Susie great pain and degradation, resulting in months of care for a Bartholin Cyst. Terrified she’d never be able to have children, she resigned herself to never get married.

Susan did marry Al two years later, divulging early in their relationship the possibility that she couldn’t have children. Although she did suffer with Bartholin Cyst flare ups her entire life. She was able to bear both my brother and I during her forty one year marriage!

I was a very developed eleven year old when my mother shared her story as a precaution for me. My daughter was also very young when I told her. It made us acutely aware of how women can be covertly drugged by acquaintances or even people they think they know.

Friday, September 08, 2006

illustration Friday "Safe"

Are we every really safe I wonder? Personal safety is top on my list. I have always taught my daughter to be safe, to be aware of her surroundings, listening to that " NO NO feeling" in the pit of her stomach. The intuition Gavin DE Becker talks about in one of my favorite books called the " The Gift of Fear" . An excellent book explaining how we have all the internal information to keep ourselves safe from predators, we just have to pay attention to our bodies. Often times our cognitive side can't requisition information from our brain as fast as our physical body can. Therefore we must always be aware of what I call the " NO NO feeling!"

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Poetry Thursday "Mothers Blue"

Poetry Thursday

Mothers Blue
Blue, blue, the essence of you
The clothes, the rooms, in every hue
A color that was never me
It caused us both to disagree
Orange, green, purple, red
Other colors, I loved instead

Blue, blue, the essence of you
Acted out, in every hue
Melancholy permeated
All the rooms decorated
Slit wrists, closed fist
Vital bonds sadly missed

Blue, blue, was all about you
Not a thing, a child could do
Your rules, your way
Opposing views and I’d pay
Suppressed by you, I’d submit
Differences you’d not permit

Blue, blue, the essence of you
Your house, your view
Wasn’t long and I was gone
Arguments, continued on
Opposing tastes, opposing plights
Now free to explore my rights

Blue, blue, who knew?
My child would love every hue
Been a while since you passed
The inherent love for blue is cast
As my daughter adorns her space
What ever she loves, I’ll embrace

Monday, September 04, 2006

Online Dolts

After being inspired by Ambers blog I’ve decided to put a little more of myself out here. I was Searching through some of my old writing and came upon this piece written over six months ago. I guess I chickened out, decided not to post it. So here it is now!

I've been quite enjoying reading the single files blog. The content is rather hilarious, especially the post where she left her phone in the laundry room (read 03/27/06 followed by archives 04/01/06). So I’m wondering, if a pretty young woman of her caliber has trouble in the dating world, what hope can there be for an overweight soon to be fifty year old such as myself.

(An update, miss single files rarely posts anymore as she has found herself a mate. This girl HAD a real routine of posting; now, Mr. been married before with a pile of kids has scooped her up.) Anyone hear the bells and whistles going off, with red flashing lights?

Amazingly, there is a site out there for us bigguns. Especially us buxom bigguns! Unfortunately, it’s almost a full time job trying to decipher any semblance of normalcy, in the world of too many weirdoes.

I put myself on a few dating sites for awhile. Imagine my shock when a large majority of the males responding were twenty three years old. That seemed to be the magic number. I was quite explicit about my desires, representing myself as an independent woman and proud mother. What the heck? That seemed to have no merit. I’m not talking about a handful of males. I am speaking of more than twenty young men. My naivety got the best of me when I actually talked to a few at the beginning. Thinking they’d made a horrid mistake trying to message me.

But no….I was the gullible one. After all, I was the mom that had young men who regularly stayed in my home as friends and guests of my daughter. Who I might add was very quick to remind me that these young men pursuing me were in grade three, when she was in kindergarten. As if I would ever even consider a tryst with any man three years older than my child. She seemed a bit more disgusted at their pursuit than I was. Stunned and perplexed at why a young man would consider a woman close to fifty was more how I felt. I even wondered if this went on regularly, or if it was some kind of fad.

Here I am forty nine years old, been out of the dating world for almost thirty five years. What do I know about dating? I just thought it would be nice to have a partner by my side for my fiftieth birthday. Not realizing the ordeal and energy it would take to weed through the men. I gave it an honest effort.

I talked to more than a few males, who after a few very nice conversations, insisted on knowing my breast size. One asked me to measure my areolas. Yes, he really did, this is no jest. More than a few wanted ME to be a DOMINATRIX……..So out of my domain, this concept. Being the non violent advocate that I am, having never even spanked my child, I hardly wanted to bring that, into the bedroom, thank you very much.

One young male, who I might add worked in a dollar store, and had a foot fetish, told me I was pritty……yes pritty….not pretty.....pritty. Thank- you but click, yes…. he was gone by the click of my mouse.

Another male, a widower, I talked to for a few months, before finding out he had no teeth and had no intention of getting any!

One airplane mechanic, another widower, professed to be a good listener. When we spoke on the phone, ( I called him and blocked my number) he never asked me one question about myself and talked incessantly. He was annoyed that I was busy when he wanted to take me out..

A huge majority of the men I talked to are so crass about sex. There is no mystery…..they blatantly ask your size, before even checking to see if there’s any camaraderie.

Oh, my, god, I contacted my so called perfect match ( at his insistence) from one site,....within 15 minutes of talking with him..... I was drained…..the Jewish widower, yes another needy widower…. spoke in a staccato allegro…..with an accent….if you know music you will understand….that’s the only way I could describe him….. he managed to reprimand me, demanded to know my size, very aware that I was a BBW…..and asked me probably 10 times for my landline phone number…..I kept saying no…..not until I felt safe to give it to him…..I have not given my home number to any men, as of yet. I am SO glad… I set my boundaries with him… he repeatedly asked me what I have to lose, he rambled on so fast I barely understood him. What have I got to lose?…..well, I'll tell you….my sanity if I was with a guy like that. I could write a book on these people. They all claim to be nice guys, all say they’re honest. Seriously, if you are nice…..it will become apparent fairly quickly, and you certainly won’t ask a woman ignorant questions so early in the game. If you’re honest….well, usually you just are……you don’t boast about it. I never even talk about honesty….it’s not in my realm…….because I surround myself with honest people, so it’s never an issue.

The widower asked me after only a few minutes what I thought of him. I mentioned that he was a bit aggressive. We continued to talk, after offending me and demanding things from me, he eventually sensed my disdain and asked if I wanted him to rip up my cell phone number. He was shocked when I said yes….then brazenly asked why.
I replied honestly, telling him we weren’t on the same page, because he was just too demanding and aggressive for my liking. I hung up and exhaled!

After almost five months, of weeding though many profiles, I have two males from the dating sites that I talk to online, and one married guy I talk to through my scrabble site. Only one man is local. The common thread.........they all stimulate me intellectually.

Immediately after I wrote this piece, I took myself permanently off all the sites and have contentedly decided to go it alone. I continued to speak to one male, who I suspect is a very intelligent functioning alcoholic. We met, I felt no chemistry at all, we remained online friends for quite sometime. He had a girlfriend for a short time, she dumped him. Then he started to pursue me with fervor, it turned me off. Something inside said danger, let it go. He is back online looking for the woman who broke his heart. Only now his profile is clearly deceitful, he’s posted a different job, a different birth date, and denies having kids. I think to myself, what else is he lying about?

The scrabble guy, who was a real charmer at first, also a disappointment, turned out to be real Mr. grumpy pants. Every time I won a few games in a row, he would get in a huff. His charm wore down. He started to repeat his schmoozing lines with me…..it wasn’t long before I had his modus operands. This rather prominent male, living in the United States, leads an obvious double life, in the highest echelons. I managed to get through my birthday very gratefully alone. And for the last six month I have been the happy lone blogger instead!

Sunday, September 03, 2006

"Sunday Scribblings" Fortune Fantasy

Sunday Scribblings

Fortune Fantasy

This fortune sits taped to my fridge,
A thought for me to ponder
As I read it, again today
It’s caused my thoughts wander

Why did I place it on my fridge?
Was it even mine at all?
This tiny piece of paper
Which I barely can recall

I have my new glasses now
Small words seem much brighter
Are they even pertinent?
to a mediocre writer

Will I devise a miraculous fad?
So I can make a million
Or develop a unique idea?
That generates a billion

I‘d distribute money, in abundance
For women who face abuse
Or children with dyslexia
Discounted as obtuse

With a dream of Philanthropy
I’d share my hordes of wealth
Would I feel obligated?
To donate to mental health

The words upon the fortune
Have caused a mighty dream
And yet to be famous
May not be as some would deem

It may not generate affluence
Honor or personal glee
I may lose the innate fiber
Required to be me

Did I think it feasible?
For those words to ensue
Curiosity’s been ignited
As possibilities imbue

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Miss Robyns Answer!

Again I started to write an email in response to another blogger and it has rambled on, into my own posting. This is, in answer to Miss Robyns blog, which I frequent daily. Why do I blog?

A few years ago my friend Violette, a very successful blogger on folk-art and creative journaling, suggested I start a blog. I was timid, a diehard scrabble junkie that couldn’t start a day without my favorite game of words. Clicking my scrabble board to Wordbiz before my morning java. Blogging has now become my methadone for scrabble addiction.

If I can find one good game of scrabble a day at my same level, then I’m ecstatic, Blogging has helped me wean my Scrabble addiction. I am way too focused on posting to my blog rather than waiting for a short intermediate game of words. Especially if I have a premeditated thought I’m anxious to post. Otherwise I am reading other blogs, google searching for inspiration and waiting to catch a whispered thought from my miracle muse angel.

Initially I was a pretty naive blogger, not realizing the impact posting a few blurbs could have on my life. Now I am so much more alert to what’s going on around me. Not that I walked around in blinders, it’s just a new perspective. As though I had the wrong optical prescription all along, and now I have a more focused pair of spectacles.

Blogging has flourished into this wonderful process of soul searching, where I can explore a deeper sense of self. I am still surprised by this inspirational journey. That I am able to form color into art. I’ve always been creative, now at fifty, I have nothing to lose in bringing my authentic self to the table. Who cares if my art looks funny and my blog sentence aren’t always formed perfectly. It’s my voice you’re hearing, the one that my family and friends listen to daily. I am forthright and honest in what I am bringing to my blog. It captures the essence of me, what inspires me and gives me purpose. It’s about my past, my future, who and what I love. It’s my life’s journey and all things important in my world and a few insignificants things too!

When I took the personality DNA test a few days ago, it alleged I was only 26 percent open. I found that result to be fairly accurate, which would surprise those who’ve been subjected to any of my passionate debates. I bet I’m not alone. Blogging is a great venue for women to unite and for men who are interested in understanding the inner dynamics of a woman’s world. However there are those of us who will not divulge everything, and some of us who will!

Originally I started out blogging for twenty one days, the estimated time it takes to break a habit. As I continued on, I realized what a great legacy my blog could make for future lineage. Blogging has made me more alert to simple details in life, to recording those vital seconds without hesitation, to search for significant moments in everyday events.

The real bonus for me was realizing, blogging is a world of its own, with many like minded people along for the adventure. Wonderful writers, with amazing perspectives, phenomenal diverse talents to share in cyber space. A group of empathtic people willing to support fellow bloggers in their endeavors. Those foreign to blogging are left out of the loop. It’s like being privy to the best of the best spread across the miles, and some raw truths too!

Friday, September 01, 2006

Personality Test Says I’m Benevolent, what are you?

Yesterday I took this online personality test. Personal DNA test seemed very accurate. Except for one area, where I thought I had some extreme trust issues. On the report I scored fairly high on the matter of trusting others. After some contemplation I realized I only really surround myself with people I highly trust. In the latter years, a few friendships have dropped by the wayside. In retrospect I realize it was probably a positive thing, as there may have been some trust issues associated with a couple of them. It’s a fun little test I would encourage you to see if you get an accurate assessment of your personality when your answers are tallied.
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