EMOTION ASSIGNMENTS

EMOTIONAL ASSIGNMENTS

I always thought that anger was a wasted emotion as it didn't serve to help us in any way.  Some would say that it helps to get our frustrations out.  That may well be, but how does one channel anger when it takes such control.  It makes everything else we know and feel confused, and logic seems to be shoved into a corner.  Someone or something has occupied our mind with a negative signal that just rages though us. How utterly uncomfortable when rage reaches out to harm people who have done us no harm.  Certainly this emotion needs to be validated in some way.  

I see people dissatisfied with what is within their paths, their comfort zones.  "How dare they defy my own train of thought, deny me what's MINE!"  We forget that we are not all alike, and yet, we seem to want the same things; comfort, food, shelter, harmony.  Sometimes anger takes over all other emotions.....and for many of us leading us down a really bad  path, resulting in group shark frenzy, rage, fury, almost a thirst for blood.  "You DEFY my orders, my authority, my needs?"  And a riot ensues.  I don't believe riots are good for anyone.  

I believe  peaceful protests are good, without weapons, and without blocking public roads and streets.  How in the world would an ambulance or police get to you if you are injured?  And, I believe mass mailings to our public servants (Mayors, Governors, Presidents, etc.) will make a difference.  There are so many venues for this. They are our public servants. They want to keep their jobs, and they want to be re-elected.  

I see unbridled rage and anger every day on the news and rude, thoughtless behavior of people who seem to have on blinders to anyone else in their path.  I see their negative views and their brutal destruction of their own towns and properties. But on the other hand I have witnessed huge kindnesses of people who have compassion for others.  There should be more of this from all of us.  I do catch myself being judgmental, when I should be much more objective.  I don't know their story.  I believe the media deliberately stokes anger in all of us just for a story.  They want to keep the public watching, so it has become a "one-upmanship" enterprise to keep you watching what each media has to say.  

I don't have much of a temper, and usually just stuff it (anger) down.  Anger is a very uncomfortable emotion for me.  So, I'll continue looking inward to validate my own anger, try to channel it in a positive way, and then LET IT GO! I don't live there any more.  Help me to do good for all instead of being judgmental.  Let me be a person I admire and can be proud of. Help me be kind and understanding of others.  I must move on and, I have better things to do.  

GROUNDED

(Covid 19)

I really can't complain about anything.  We're lucky to live out in the country, with polite and caring neighbors.  We have five neighbors, and we congregate in the dirt road that runs in front of our house to visit....socially distanced, or at safe distances on the porch.  This dang Covid 19 has everyone afraid, and social distancing and masks are the norm.  

We take a ride daily, if only to get a loaf of bread at the store.  Royster goes in  From 7:00 a.m to 8:00 a.m. every day is Old Folks Shopping at Smith's.  Everyone is politely distanced at 6' and masked.  Puck and I stay in the car.  I could no longer navigate a grocery store or any other establishment to find anything, as I have not been in any of these establishments in three months.   I will not go to any medical facility unless it's a dire emergency.  I am considered "High Risk", as I'm old and have a respiratory issue.  So far, so good!  There is one doctor that is pestering me to go get a cat scan because, according to him, it's been 17 years, and it's time. I'm pretty sure he was just drumming up business.  He couldn't give me a good reason for it, so I politely declined with, "Are you crazy?!  No!"  I think I hurt his feelings.

Staying at home has it's merits.  We've found more time to do the things that make us happy, plus a big task going on in the back yard on the mountain.  As usual, my beading makes me happy, and I can get totally lost in it, meditating and molding a beautiful piece of art that speaks volumes of my moods and surroundings.

The large project in the back yard is a big wall made of railroad timbers to hold back the mountain erosion behind the house.  It's really a huge undertaking, and it actually looks good.  I will be planting seeds of hollyhocks and sunflowers in front of this wall.  

Our little garden on the hill is coming right along, with a couple of kind s of green beans, tomatoes, onions, yellow squash, zucchini, cabbage, and rhubarb occupies a prominent place in the garden.  We've found a great deal of satisfaction in growing our own veggies.  And, yes, they do taste better than store-bought.  Royster made us a "Tomato Garden" in 10, 5 gallon buckets next to the driveway.  It's tomatoes, peppers and lettuce.  This makes it easy to just go out and pick a salad for dinner on any given night.  

We had some much needed rain, interspersed with a bit of hail yesterday.  Puckster loved it, and stayed out in the middle of the back yard until the hail started.  After the rain and hail, he ran down to join his buddies Bob and Daney to go play in the mud in the river below us.  He has no shame, but he's usually cleaned up enough by the time  the sun goes down to come in the house, at which time he sits in the kitchen and mumbles at me.  Apparently this is our time for "conversation".  He mumbles at me, and I mumble back.  He really is a good conversationalist.  This volley goes on until dinner is ready, when he waits patiently and attentively for anything to fall or perhaps something gets tossed his way.  He's a good catch.  Never misses. 

The river below moves on and the beavers build again.  The rainbows out my kitchen windows are spectacular, and I miss our kids and grandchildren.  I wish they were here.   All the grands are grown, and going to college, getting married, and living their own lives.  Life is good on our mountain in the Taos Canyon, and the beat goes on and on and on.

OLD THINGS AND STUFF

Old stuff and things keep our memories churning and connected with the past.  Items with sentimental value and finds in the dirt, flea market finds and gifts from friends.  All these things have huge value, and not necessarily monetary value.  I believe that China and silverware should be used daily…. not just saved for “special occasions”.  After all, every day we live is a special occasion that is to be celebrated.  It helps keep a person young.

The above sideboard with the marble top had a matching table that was handed down from our family in the north.  The vague inscriptions say that it was made in Massachusetts in the early 1900’s.  The table sat 13 every night for a long time. It has since been handed down to family members to keep safe, and hopefully they will use it.  I passionately believe that people should use these old heirlooms.  They are not just for looking at.  However, the China doll is comfortably sleeping in a cedar chest between some blankets.

The older we get; it seems that we recognize the value of old things that we have accumulated over the years.  We also finally realize the value of these things and manage to fit them into the motif of our daily homes and lives.  I don’t know about you, but I certainly appreciate them more than I would have 50 years ago.  It doesn’t matter how “modern” the décor in your home, there is always a place for these old items.  They become a part of our lives and are subject to being conversation pieces…. therefore, stoking more memories and desire to have more of these “old things” around us. 

Several years ago, I went into a re-sale shop in a Houston suburb just to see what was in there.  There were two wall tables that had been decoupaged with aluminum foil, and SURPRISE one had brass claw feet. Upon further scrutiny (turning them over), one of them was a Duncan Phyfe table.  I took them home and stripped them down.  It took a week of working to gently remove the aluminum foil and strip the wood down, both revealing beautiful mahogany, which I restored.  I still have these little wall tables.

I’ve found myself looking for “old things and stuff” everywhere; up on the hill, digging in our vegetable garden, in resale shops, etc.  I found a penny in the garden that’s so worn that the date cannot be read.  It just sits in the kitchen window.  There was an old log cabin up on the hill where the vegetable garden is now.  I have no idea of the age or the history of that cabin. It’s been gone a long time. There is an old structure that has remained intact up there; and we’ve had a look.  Turns out it’s the outhouse that was several feet from the old log cabin.  It’s a two-holer.  What a find!  No telling what else is up there. 

I read that during the Civil War, in the south, people would throw their valuables in the outhouse to hide them from the marauding soldiers that came to pillage the homes.  I doubt that’s the case with this little outhouse on the side of a canyon mountain in Taos, NM.  Probably just some timber rattlers, which would discourage anyone from digging around there, much less placing their delicate rear-ends over the holes in there.

I’m intensely curious, and in the meantime, I’ll just keep looking for Old Things and Stuff because there is value in all of it, and so much to learn. 

COWBOY JIM

and 

Other Imaginary Friends

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2019

Sappington, Mo., 1953 is when Cowboy Jim started to emerge.  Cowboy Jim came equipped with a 2-way radio that doubled as Tinker Toys, and a beautiful palomino that doubled as a stick horse.  We lived in a two-story brown brick home just outside of down town St. Louis, Mo.  There were Joanie 7, Melissa 4.5, Anne 3.5 and Joe 2.  I’m guessing Claire was in the oven. Dad was a salesman for Corning Glassware.

I recall a shady back yard with a big furnace for burning one’s own household trash, and a coal shoot to the basement for the furnace.  Mom had paved a small area in the back yard with natural sand stone and had put a fence around it.  This was for Joe, who was a horrible flight risk.  Once, I had walked a few houses down from ours, to find Joe hiding in a dog house with someone else’s’ dog.  He had shed all his clothes, including his diaper somewhere along the way.  Needles-to-say, I was the hero of the day for finding him.

I remember our neighbors quite vividly.  The Powers lived on one side, and they had a boy about Joanie’s age named Cammie (short of Cameron?).  There was a vacant lot between our houses where we played on a swing set.  On the other side was an elderly woman named Mrs. Caskey.  She was really sweet to us, giving us heart shaped lollipops.  Across the street was an enormous white house.  The people that lived there were the Lovelace's.  They had some boys that were much older than any of us.  Down the street towards town were the Pobaninskys.  They had a son my age, named Chris.  He’d come down to play every now and then.  Down the street the other way was a little boy named Richard Strumph, who always had a snotty nose and couldn’t pronounce his “Rs”. Richard had a pedal fire engine, which he'd ride down the sidewalk to our house.  My last memory of him was when he got his head stuck in the little ladder attached to the side of his pedal fire engine, and his pitiful crying until his mother came to his rescue.  Some of the neighbors' names I could pronounce, but I’m still not at all sure of the spelling, since I was only five years old at that time.

Joanie still held onto her two imaginary friends, Pinkie and Lemon that she kept in the laundry hamper in the upstairs bathroom.  She would go into the bathroom and open the hamper and talk to them.  I kept trying to see them, and every time I'd try to see them, Joanie would slam the hamper closed.  I guess it was a private matter between Joanie and Pinkie and Lemon, but I think they disappeared when she went into the second grade at Christ The King Parochial school.  Soon after that, she would come home on the school bus and declare that she HATED SCHOOL!  One day, she came home from school and stood in front of the house crying and kicked off her saddle shoes so hard that one of them flew up and broke a window on the second story.

Anne and I usually stuck together most of the time, being almost Irish Twins, but some of the time, we were just wandering around talking to our own imaginary friends.  Anne would sit on the stairs and talk to her imaginary friend, who incidentally, was invisible.  The dialogue was usually, “I got two eyeths, a nothse, a moufe, and lots of fingers and toes…..And what have you got?  Nuffin’!”

We had an old mahogany Emerson Radio/Record Player that Mom would turn on in the dining room to listen to various radio shows, and sometimes we could listen to Arthur Godfrey, Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers or Gene Autrey.  With that, Cowboy Jim started to emerge.  I was becoming my very own imaginary friend. I would listen to those stories and then emerge from the dining room as COWBOY JIM!  

I did have my very own stick horse, and I rode it all over the house.  I was getting pretty realistic about my C.J. status, and one day, while riding my stick horse, (jumping on the bed), it occurred to me that I could ride higher and faster if I climbed up on the dresser and jumped down on to the bed.  So, I climbed up to the top of the chest of drawers, and jumped off, totally missing the bed except for the rail on the end of the bed, on which I caught with my mouth.  My two front teeth went through my bottom lip.  I didn't really cry until Mom walked into the room and saw all the blood. That jump ended up costing my two front teeth and requiring 6 stitches.  Don’t know what happened to my stick horse after that.  The next day, Anne fell down the front steps and cut her mouth in the same spot.  We both ended up with identical bandages. It was hard to tell us apart. 

Soon after, we moved from St. Louis back to Texas.  I continued my exploits as Cowboy Jim for a while longer.  When we packed up and moved back to Texas, my C.J. persona dwindled away.  This left a whole new world open for the imagination, but Cowboy Jim still lurks in the shadows of my memory as a good friend, and memories of grand stories to tell.

LATE LIFE WISHES AND REGRETS

Hindsight 

This is about FLYING PIG WISHES.  I call them that, because Flying Pig Wishes are comprised mostly of hindsight. "A dream is a wish your heart makes."  or so Walt Disney says.  I guess I'm addressing my contemporaries as well as the generations that we've produced.

I wish I'd been the person who ... invented the road reflectors that divide lanes on the highways, or even maybe the words on a pencil that says, "USE TO HERE", or just pencil erasers?  What about the lumbar mechanisms in car seats? And what about personal computers and the Internet?  What about the person that invented SPELL CHECK?  I still think there's room for improvement on that.  And, what if, I'd become a physician, a serious writer, an artist, a musician, or even an ASTRONAUT? 

Reflecting back, I can recall a few of the "inconveniences" of our generations' lifetime.  The rotary dial on the phone, the long straight cord that enabled us to hide in the closet for some privacy on the phone (easily detected), having to defrost the refrigerator freezer, having to iron EVERYTHING, manual typewriters, typewriter erasers and whiteout, dress codes at school.  There was no central air in any of the schools I went to.  There were big ol' fans, windows and radiators.  We adjusted, but sometimes it was just horribly inclement.
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Possibly, I've almost become the person I was meant to be in this life, and hopefully I've done some good and/or made a positive difference in someone's life.  I HAVE learned that if you can't help someone, don't hurt them.  Just be kind.  Try to give people the benefit of the doubt.  Give back what you have been given or learned.  Be honest without being hurtful.  Teach your children to be good, generous, helpful and kind.  This is mostly accomplished by example.  Well, that's a start, and as long as I'm upright and breathing there's still time.  Live, love, learn, teach and give back.  My path is still open and I'm still here.

TAOS CANYON ADVENTURE!

( And Puck, Puckster, Puckerino, Puckus Maximus)

It was emotionally draining when we had to have our beloved 17-year-old Blue Heeler mix, Hank put down.  We vowed not to ever have another dog.  After all, we would be traveling, and we just couldn’t do the heart break again.  It’s just not fair that we out live our furry family members.  It’s just too hard. So, we just moved on without a pup in the house.  The undercurrent of a void in our lives was always there. 

We had been thinking about a place to retire, and after cruising real estate listings, the Royster found a listing for a house in Taos, NM that seemed ideal for us.  It had been on the market for over 2 years, and I wondered why.  We talked about it and agreed that we would take a roadie to NM to check it out.  We made plans for our trip and contacted a realtor.  Actually, there were two houses to look at. One house sold before we could see it, so that left the one in the Taos Canyon.  Our Realtor drove us 6 miles east of town to a dirt and gravel road, turned right and there it was at the top of the hill.  As we drove into the driveway my mouth quite involuntarily shot out, “So, this is ours?”  Royster shot me a look, and I clammed up until we got in the house.  Shazam!  It had a huge wooden front porch, and a double front door with brass address plate on it declaring the address.

The interior was still furnished, and the house was impeccable.  A single story, two bedrooms, two baths, and a huge studio.  The kitchen was as big as our kitchen in Spring, TX.  It was extremely hard to maintain a neutral facade, because I was totally taken by the the huge utility room/pantry. It became obvious that this house was designed and built specifically for a retired couple.  It was just waiting for the right retired couple. That night, we talked about the prospect of moving, and the house we were quietly falling in love with.  We’d both spent most of our lives in Texas, so this was going to be a big deal.

We drove back to Texas, trying not to get too excited about the prospects of moving into that perfect house.  We got back home, unpacked, had dinner and went to bed.  The next morning, Royster smiled, and asked, “Do you want move to Taos, NM?”  Oh, be still my heart!  “Yes, I do!”  He called the realtor and told her that we wanted the house, and on what conditions and price.  We got the ball rolling.  Within less than a month, we sold most of our furniture (and bought furniture for the living room and guest room and made arrangements for a moving van to show up and take us away to Taos, New Mexico.  The fact that this all took place in less than 4 weeks, from packing up, cleaning our house in Spring, and moving into our home in Taos.  We down-sized our belongings once again after we moved in.

 

We have five neighbors, all of whom stopped by to welcome us while we sat in the driveway watching the movers take our household goods into the house.  A beautiful female red heeler wandered up and sat next to my chair for about 30 minutes.  She was so sweet, and I’m sure she was welcoming us.  That made me miss our Hank so much, and I wondered who she owned.  I later found out that she owned our neighbor, Jill, just below us.

 

This is our third winter here in the Taos Canyon.  Our neighbors have all become our good friends, and some seasonal renters are in and out with the seasons.  They are our friends too.  Still there was something missing.

Over the summer, our neighbor Jill went to the local animal shelter to find a companion for her red heeler, Daney.  She arrived home with her new companion, Puck, and she brought him up for proper introductions.  He was so funny, a little more than a year old, and aptly named for the Sprite in A Mid-Summer Nights’ Dream.  He spent more time at our house than with Jill and Daney.  I think he automatically picked us as family as well, as he spent most of his time with us, playing with his new litter mate, Roy.  After a couple of months, Jill came up to tell us that she had to return Puck to the animal shelter because she couldn’t control him.  Roy and I felt sorry for the little guy and talked about going to get him.  Well…. we did the next morning.  We brought Puck home with us. 

Since then, he’s really been a good dog for us.  He can be very naughty on occasion, by playing “catch me if you can”, and that’s pretty frustrating.  A few days ago, I went out in the cold and snow to call him.  It was time to feed him, and just didn’t show up when I called.  Finally, I looked out the kitchen window.  There he was hiding behind my truck, and peeking around the corner…. laughing.  I could almost hear, “Oh, this is so funny!”  Since then, I’ve bought a dog whistle that he seems to respect, and he comes running home immediately.

Here we are in our third winter.  The temperature is 11 degrees this morning, we’ll get the pot-bellied stoves cranked up and get about our day.  We had 8” of snow yesterday.  Royster has decided to crank up the snow blower and clear out the driveway, and the dirt and gravel road behind our vehicles.  Puckster is curled up by the pot bellied stove in the studio, no doubt dreaming of snow angels and his next meal.  He owns us now.

WHO ARE WE AND WHY ARE WE HERE?

WHO ARE WE AND WHY ARE WE HERE?

I love to watch the History Channel and Ancient Aliens.  It always begs the questions, who are we and why are we here?  Everyone wonders from the day we acquire wonder and logic.  Some religions teach that we are not to question our existence at all.  Just Trust …. Have Faith.  Is there a God that would keep us from seeking knowledge and answers to our burning questions?  Sometimes, I guess, it’s none of our business until we are evolved enough to do something with these profound answers.

"Then put your little hand in mine
There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb......Babe." - Sonny and Cher.

Science, Nature and Religion are slowly merging as we evolve into the people we are meant to be.  What if we are an experiment in a little petri dish? Were we planted here by aliens or “The Powers That BE”?  If so, our history as humans has evolved at an incredible rate.  Things we learned in school and at church about ourselves doesn’t jive with current science discoveries.  AND, how did our ancient ancestors make all the HUGE structures all over the world with such precision?  Examples have been studied and found to be almost impossible to have been produced without help from other sources. 

The Sphinx is a good example. This wonder has been found to be so much older than originally thought.  Original thought on the age would be about 5,000 years old.  Most recently, Egyptologists suggest that it was built by an advanced civilization and is more like 8,000 to 10,000 years old.  Anyone ever observe that there is a door by the Sphinx's right ear?  Also, that the Sphinx was once submerged in water.  There are so many questions about what’s in there, and what is its purpose?  This still doesn’t answer our questions.  We must take the initiative and the steps to discover what’s already here and put the puzzle pieces together.

What keeps popping into my mind is that possibly we have been put here to Live, Love, Learn, Create and Invent.  We are different from other beings on this planet. We have our thumbs, superior intelligence, we walk upright, and we have the gift of logic, and the absence of prehensile tails, just to mention a few human attributes.  This is NOT to say that other beings on this planet aren’t intelligent.  Just look at our super-dog, Puck.  He has us completely hornswoggled.

What about coincidental occurrences of huge events that are recorded in history as having happened at the same time all over this planet, i.e. deities in various cultures are recorded instruction, advice, lessons, rules and commandments.  There have been massive floods, and astronomical occurrences. And why did we ever think that we could be the only ones in our universe or anywhere else?

Is it enough to just be good, create good, be kind and lift up our fellow human brothers and sisters? Where does our energy go when our bodies have given up…...used and ravaged from our life’s’ missions and struggles here on this planet?  What of Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and Limbo that we have been taught about?  Is there a waiting line to get into the most prime places after death to see the Face of God, or the ravages of Hell?  Does our spirit (energy) get recycled to Live, Love and Learn another time and place?  Or, does our energy/spirit wander aimlessly if we don’t qualify for any of the assigned places we are raised to believe in from birth?  These are the thoughts that buzz through my mind in the night and early mornings when I’m supposed to be sleeping. 

I still believe that there is a God, and that I am not She, and that my prayers are heard. And I offer my prayer request to The Powers That Be:  Please help me be kind, creative and loving in my remaining days; that I may do at least one kindness today, and every day.   My prayer for my friends, family and all others is that your most fervent prayers be answered. 

LEGGINGS

We moved here to Taos, NM almost 2 years ago.  I'll admit that it has not been an easy or graceful transition for me, as the altitude is about 7800'.  That's quite a stretch from the 50' elevation of Spring, Texas.  I do have some health issues involving breathing anyway.  Well, here's the deal.   My jeans, though they seem to fit fine are not the norm for this area.  Women (and some men) wear what's known as leggings.  Until now, I've been just wearing what I wore when we lived in Houston.  I just turned 70 in January.  I noticed that when wearing my jeans that I can't breathe when I bend over.  They sort of cut me in half.  Turning 70 made me more aware of things that have been relevant for a long time,l but magnified up here int he mountain canyon.  1.  Every little wrinkle.  2.  Cellulite.  3.  Breathing issues.  4.  My lack of exercise.  5.  ....and other health issues.  So (step 1.) I've followed "fashion trends" here in Taos, which is a very wide range and always very colorful.  Anything goes.  I ordered 5 pairs of leggings in assorted colors.  

Today I donned the darkest pair....dark navy.  I believe I'll be needing some more longer tunic tops to cover my assets, especially as it's really cold up here in the winter, and you could freeze your assets off if you don't cover your tender vegetation.  WOW!  They really feel good!  I knew I'd get some stares from the Royster, so I went ahead and asked, knowing he'd go for saving his own ass by saying "You look just fine....."  and he did.  That was really the best he could do, considering what he had to assess and comment instantly.  He was fast.  I mentioned that all of the women we know up here in the canyon are wearing them, and they're our age.....I think they look terrific! 

Non-the-less, I still feel a little self conscious wearing these.  Part of my plan was to have them to wear to a Yoga class or Pilates class.  It hasn't happened.....yet, but my intentions are good.  Did I say they feel great?  The biggest trial is getting the sincere opinions of my girlfriends.  After all, they wear them too, for every day.  

So, here goes.  I've come to the conclusion that I don't look terrible in these leggings, and I've become accustom the climate, and the "Taos Way" in the short time we've lived here.  Now it'll be interesting to see what our grandchildren think.  

FLYING PIG WISHES

MENA’S WISDOM

I woke up this morning at about 3:00 with these words tramping through my mind, “Flying Pig Wishes”. It was very compelling. So, I tossed and turned thinking about what the message could be in that gifted thought from my dreams. Finally, I pried myself from the sacred sleeping place and cranked up the coffee pot. Still, Flying Pig Wishes haunted me. What could it mean? Let’s see……                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             There are prayers, wishes, dreams, hopes and now, Flying Pig Wishes. Here’s what I’ve sorted out so far.   Prayer is talking to and/or meditating with a higher power or God. My daily prayer usually begins with “Please help me do a kindness for at least one person today.” As we all know, the rule here is that the kindness must be deliberate and untold / touted. No telling anyone else. Wishes are illusive (to attain). “A wish is a dream your heart makes.” Little will happen unless you take the steps to make it so.Dreams, to me, are messages from day-dreaming or sleep-dreaming. If you are lucky enough to remember to write it down, you can have something to chew on all day long. That’s why I write.   Hopes are like wishes, in that little will happen unless you take the steps to make it so.                                                                                        

So, I’m thinking that Flying Pig Wishes are a combination of all the above. And 

again, nothing much will happen unless you make the effort to make them so. FPW’s 

are a bit far-fetched, but not impossible. Unlikely attainment comes to mind. Non-the-less, 

it IS what it IS.   It’s okay to be self-indulgent with these FPWs. So, I got to work thinking 

up 3 or 4 FPWs that I could work on. Health came to mind here; breathing, vision, sharpening 

mind, and scouring my spotted soul. Again far-fetched. Here are some things I came up with to 

help fulfill my FPWs. 

                                                 

1. Regarding my breathing, which is impaired by COPD and long-ago surgery to deal with lung 

cancer will be a challenge. We also moved from 50’ above sea level to about 7800’ above sea 

level. I think I’ll look up some Yoga classes. 

2. Vision impairment is age related, and some cataracts moved in, but there was a tumor 

complication that has since been dealt with. I’m going to consider Lasik. We’ll see how that 

goes.

3. Sharpening my mind means staying busy and interacting with others. Also, Yoga will be 

a big help. 

4. Walking daily and meditating will be a big help for all the above.

Back porch sitting is a big part of our new life here in Taos. It’s magical, and messages abound with every new experience. I still here the trees talking. 

I know that sounds crazy, but I am the only one I’ve ask (so far) that can hear this natural music that these trees make. It’s more soothing than unsettling. I think it’s part of the enchantment and charm that’s connected with this part of our country. 

I will continue with my prayers, wishes, dreams, hopes and FLYING PIG WISHES. And, hopefully, through these I will be able to continue doing at least one kindness a day for at least one other person every day. Long live FLYING PIG WISHES! Make it so.

EARLY AWAKENINGS

Yes, it's 3 a.m., and I'm awake.  I tried to go back to sleep, but, like an old Briggs Stratton engine that continues to rev, even after it's been turned off I'm wide awake.  I had to start writing because everything's fresh, and racing. soon I'll be busy loading up my suitcase to pack into the car for our Christmas pilgrimage to Omaha to share the festivities with our daughters and grandchildren.  It's true that our brains function much better in the early waking moments.

Back to my racing brain.  Royster and I discussed with one of our new neighbors yesterday about how we have a basic core knowledge by which we know more than we suspect we know.  I know that sounds a bit deeeeep, but I'm sure it's true of all of us.  We have a basic knowledge of everything.  I think that sometimes, we don't know how to tap into it.  When I wake, my brain signals that there are things to do, and things to look up, because my mind is that curious as soon as I wake up.  

Just an example, is this morning.  ZING!!!!!!  Wakey, wakey!   Royster was awake too, and he graciously got up to turn on the coffee.  Sitting here with my first cup of coffee, I turned on my home page newsy stuff.  While I reminded myself that we wouldn't be able to sit here long this morning before embarking on our journey to Nebraska; I scanned through some of the headlines.  Hmmmmmm.......a new prehistoric creature was discovered........Angelina's divorce papers reveal.......Mass firing in the senate...........U.S. refineries.    I check out the massive prehistoric creature, apparently newly discovered in Montana.  Wonder how big its brain was.....apparently related to the triceratops.  Well, that ought to get me ready for our trip.

I am excited about our Christmas trip, and am so relieved that I have everything bought, wrapped and cookies made.  This is going to be a wonderful Christmas trip.  Let's get this show on the road!

More as the season takes us to the New Year. 

I STILL GET EXCITED ABOUT CHRISTMAS.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!   

THE GUMDROP TREE (Brenham, Texas 1951)

The Gumdrop Tree

(Brenham, Texas 1951)

           

     “He told me you’d come, and Lawd, here you are, Child!  I’ve been waiting out here for you!  I made you this pretty gumdrop tree!”   It was small white limb from a tree that she had cleaned off and stuck gumdrops on the end of each branch and twig.  It was beautiful and very alluring to any child!

            I must have been 3 years old.  Dad was a salesman for Corning Glassware, and he had been transferred to Brenham, Texas.  I remember the old house as plain as day; a white Victorian style built on a rock bed summit.  The road in front to the house was graded.  There was an old black man everyone called Sargent that rode his horse down the graded road, and pulled a pony behind him for any child to ride for a nickel.  He also whistled a tune, but I don’t recall what it was.  I got to ride the pony once after I’d pestered Dad to ride so many times.   That was my very first smell of horse.  He actually made a big production out of it, pulling and squeezing his nose until a nickel fell out.  “You kids are going to drive me to the poor house!”    

  

             I climbed the wooden steps up to the old woman’s front porch.  She chattered happily and handed the gumdrop tree to me, which I gladly took and started eating the gumdrops.  I couldn’t believe that this woman was giving me candy on a tree!  I sat on that old woman’s front porch and talked to her until she told me that my mother was probably worried about me.  The old woman cautioned me not to eat too many gumdrops, that it would spoil my appetite before for dinner.  I scooted down the wooden steps on my bottom with the tree in my hand, and skipped back up the graded road to the house happily carrying the gumdrop tree high in the air.  I was eager to show it to my sisters and Mom and Dad.  I was greeted with an admonishment from Mom, who was in tears and very angry with me.  “I had no idea where you were!”  “Where did you get that?”  “I’ve told you never to talk to strangers!”  I tried to explain that a nice lady gave it to me, but she cried and fussed even more; and the gumdrop tree was taken away.  “Who knows what’s on it?   My young world was forever changed.  I will note right here that I do understand why she took it away.  Polio was rampant at that time, and Mom sterilized everything.

            
             There were two women that came to the house two or three days a week to help Mom with the laundry, housekeeping and managing 4 children.  She was pregnant with number 5 and it was hard to keep up with that many and see to the upkeep of the family and house.  They were Dozzie (for Dorothy) and Marie .   I remember too, we all went barefooted playing in the yard.  We were cautioned stay in the yard and not too close to the graded road.   I remember going to the edge near the road.  I’d stepped in a big red ant bed.  Dozzie came running out to rescue me.  She started gently swatting the ants off of me.  I thought she was mad at me and started crying.  She carried me in the house, and dotted my ant bites with Calamine Lotion.  Though I was just scared, Dozzie soothed me and told me to stay closer to the house where she could see me. 

           
              Dozzie and Marie had 2 milk cows that they often brought to graze in our yard.  I remember them drinking water out of our big square, galvanized tub that they sometimes bathed us in.  Dad managed to squeeze three of us (Joanie, Ann and me) in that tub for a picture.

           

              I think about this part of my life often, though it was about 64 years ago.  I believe it’s a gift that I can remember things so distant in my childhood so vividly.  I have many, many memories like this, and I wish my older sister, Joanie was still here to reminisce about these old memories. 

FOOD PORN AND SPANX

FOOD PORN AND SPANX

Roy finally retired a little over a year ago.  We've always loved our road trips, and have taken many.  But, when he retired we doubled our time on the road with his retirement agenda, which is photography.  He bought me a wonderful little Canon with automatic as well as manual capabilities.  I’m having a ball with it, but I don’t have the patience to mess with anything more complicated.  My gifts lie right here with my writing, and whatever “project” I have going at the time.  Right now, it’s beading, and that’s subject to change.

Our travels have taken us to new levels of dining.  With Facebook, it’s taken on a new dimension.  I realize that one only need post a phone photo of food to start a firestorm of Food Porn on FB, and I am loving it!  How much fun is that?  With our traveling, the menus and venues are so diverse that it’s imperative that I share it with my friends and family.  I love the responses of online recipes and drooling.  WHAT – A – HOOT!  I automatically “share” these recipes just so they will show up on my timeline/personal page……just in case I want to make them.  Be assured I’ll do the cream cheese cherries and coca cola cake recipes.  Come on!  Bring ‘em!

This brings me to the reasoning of body image vs. Food Porn.  I've been pretty good about keeping my weight down to a reasonable weight for my 5’9” frame of 65 years old.  NO, I will not tell you what that is, but be assured; it hasn't varied much over the past 5 years one way or the other.  Here’s the thing………..It just relocates.  Annnnnnddd, the cottage cheese effect remains wherever it relocates. It never leaves from my thighs.  I used to find this very distressful; however, I’ve finally started accepting the fact that I’m 65, and (though inside I am still 26 years old), my body is going to do this with, or without my permission or my efforts to keep it down to my 26 year old weight and shape. That’s just not going to happen.

Which then brings me to this………..I finally caved in and bought some SPANX.  After having watched all of the female news people stand or sit in front of the camera, I've wondered how they can stand there in those tight little dresses and skirts without first smoothing everything out with the SPANX.  I know that they cannot all have these sleek lines naturally. 

The price tags are still on them (2 pieces), but I’m going to use them first to sort through my closet to see what I can squeeze into, and what is absolutely out of the question, EVER!  At least I can contain all of this stuff in a tighter “skin”.  There will be no mirror in front of me while I struggle into the revered SPANX.

Soooooo……I’m going to venture into trying on this new “skin”; but I need some encouragement.  Maybe I’ll step on the scales…….haven’t done that in a couple of months.  That should be some incentive.  Maybe I should talk to someone (my age) who’s successfully ventured into the SPANX world.  But FIRST, I’m going for a Mani-pedi just to get me started.  That should at least make me feel better about getting on the scales.

And….by the way.  I’m making that coca cola cake tomorrow!