11/13/18

In a world of fake, what comprises real?
Who are we? We who enjoy a good novel,
many a fine movie, make up to cover the
blemishes, push up bras, slenderizing girdles,
and fast cars as we use our crutches and
walkers . . . So, who are we in reality? It's
a hard call to pull off real in today's world.
We face each day with a torrent of ads,
all of which are about helping us to lose
weight, look prettier, gain popularity,
enhance muscle, and sell our souls to the
highest bidder. I'm not saying that the
fictitious has no place in our lives, I would
simply prefer that the non-fiction were the
meat and potatoes and the fiction the dessert.
Bottom line . . . who do I want to be when
I grow up? Do I have the courage to strive
for real? Can I leave popular fashion behind
and dress for comfort? Am I up to reading
literature over movies every night? Can I
give comfort over platitudes? Will I ever be
the real me and give up on the fictitious?
Just point me in the right direction and tell
me where I can sign up . . .

longing for real
so tired of fairy tales
courage to be me

11/12/18

I appreciate all the thought and research that
went into the political postings in the past few
months. There were those that took a lot of
trouble over their choices, looked into the
truth or error of each one and considered the
sensibilities of others. Once the election took
place, I mistakenly thought there would be a
bit of a break from posts such as these. I've
come to the conclusion that there are those
who are simply political animals, as it were,
and they are deeply interested in the topic
and wish to keep us informed. In all my years,
I don't think I ever really considered the
position of a political personality vs. an
apolitical one. Now it is much clearer to me.
I much honor each person's right for their
own belief system, their political persuasion
and their right to free speech. And, I even
appreciate in myself the learning curve that
has occurred during this past political period.
Still, I come to the conclusion that each of us
remain basically who we are, unpersuaded of
different opinions and views. Why then, is it
so important to speak out if we indeed do not
change? Me thinks it harks back, once again,
to the individual rights this country provides
us . . . and that is both priceless and amazing!

who am i today
appreciating freedoms
believing thusly

11/11/18

Of late, I've been contemplating the differences
between existing and actually living. It is indeed
something, to come to the end of your life and
question yourself if you have actually lived or if
you've solely given in to existing. Thank the gods
that we each have lists of wondrous and glorious
moments in which we actually lived, putting our
lives on the line for a given experience . . . but
perhaps the question really refers to, What is our
usual? D we live vicariously through the media?
The television? Our fave movies? The odd show?
Or, do we actually get out there and do the hike,
try out the snowboard, ski the slopes, travel and
see the world? Do we possess stories to tell or
do they belong to our heroes? Can se tell tales
out of school, or are they those of our sheroes?
Perhaps, in our elder years, we may be tempted
to hang up our skates, but I keep seeing photos
and stories of these amazing women in their 90's
still dancing, still hiking, still LIVING! Me thinks
'tis time to assess our position and get the hell
out of Dodge!

pray give me courage
to act out my own crazy
still craving real life

11/10/18

Yesterday, my man invited me to a Western Fest
of Wanted Dead or Alive.  I've always enjoyed his
Westerns although they might not be my usual
first choice of genre. I can't help but wonder, what
it is about Westerns that tug at us? Is it a secret
longing for the past? Do they fascinate us when
we see the changes, the differences, between
then and now? Perhaps, we are drawn to the
fashions of yesteryear. Or maybe, it's the quickly
settled justice that seems to prevail 'mongst the
villains of yore. The marshal as hero or even the
clear differences between the good buys and the
bad guys that  make for good storytelling. For me,
I appreciate the reminder . . . good ultimately
triumphs over evil; the good guys always win.
Looking at the fact that I've chosen to upend my
entire life, move into a 120 year old cabin, decorate
it solely with familial antiques and forego most
conveniences, I have to wonder if I'm not somehow
trying to re-birth myself into a past long forgotten?!
Me things you best doff the hat when next greeting
me and please don't mind my side holster . . .

tis rebirthing me
in order to find myself
process most painful

11/09/18

I find the end-of-year holidays fascinating;
Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas,
each in their designated month. We all love
our holidays, our celebrations and I imagine
we each have a fave. For me it's Halloween,
known in my vernacular as Samhain. I begin
gathering my Halloween decor throughout
September, hardly able to wait until October
arrives to begin decorating. And here we are
sandwiched between a late desertion of trick
or treat and the early arrival of x-mas sox.
Poor Thanksgiving barely stands a chance.
I hear complaints about the stores bringing
in Christmas decor even before Halloween
arrives, but that's business at its best. It has
occurred to me that it's time to get even III
So, I've decided NOT to take down Halloween
until the night before Christmas. Should you
come to the cabin for a visit, expect to find
Jack-o-lanterns rather than pumpkin pies,
skeletons instead of Saint Nick and black and
orange candles, not red and green. Long live
Halloween!

a true confusion
thinking sleigh bells and presents
tis ever hallows

11/08/19

Got mail? I received an actual card in the mail
yesterday. I simply held it in my hands for a few
moments before opening it. It's something, you
know, a real card in this day and age. I've been
sending e-cards for a couple of years now. Has
something to do with me being able to program
a whole month of cards into the computer on the
first day of the month and that way, I don't forget
anyone's birthday. Rather quick and dirty for thank
you cards as well. So, finally, I open the card . . .
it's not an everyday thing. Frankly, I was cherishing
the feel of it in my hands. Thick paper, that lovely
new paper scent, and then a personal missive. I
was quite moved . . . and then, onto the refrigerator
it went. Now, I can see it every time I walk by! I
thought maybe I should discard a couple of others
I had on the fridge, but when it came down to it,
no could do! Love the cards! Sooooo, I think I'm
inspired; don't be surprised if you get a card from
me in the next day or two!

me thinks real matters
something i had forgotten
remembering now

11/07/18

Like the caveman of yesteryear, I have had to
come to the conclusion that fire is pure magic!
I can be upset beyond reason and if I sit by the
fire awhile, everything comes into perspective.
Sometimes, I'm feeling excited and overjoyed,
(a good place to be right?!) and the fire is
rather the icing on the cake. On the occasion
when I am overwhelmed with grief, 'tis only
the fire that can soothe and comfort me. So,
what's my excuse this time? Not that one needs
an excuse to light the fire, but my man has
mentioned something about me using up all the
firewood before winter proper . . . this time I'm
lighting the fire in joy, pure unadulterated joy!
I get to spend the evening with my bestie who
lives out of town and as we talk the night away,
the fire enhances the bliss I feel, simply warming
the cockles of my soul . . .

magic of the night
burns at the seat of my soul
the glory of fire

11/06/18 - Election Day

Today is just another day, right?! Wrong! I can't
even begin to imagine how nervous we all are,
how concerned . . . sending our pleas into the
universe and hoping for the best. The thing we
should probably all remember is that, no matter
what happens, there will be those who won and
those who lost, those who are triumphant and
those who are drowning in sorrow. I have not
the wisdom to know how long it will take for our
country to heal after an election. I know not if
the winners can take the high road and be kind
or if they will stoop to rubbing noses in it. Pray
that along with whatever happens in the next
few hours, we can all do a bit of growing up. I
know that I certainly need to grow; pray tell!

standing on the bring
somewhere between hope and fear
pray i be wiser

11/05/18

I can't help but wonder if a trip down memory lane
constitutes its own version of time travel?! Several
of my old students provided me with my own ticket
yesterday. This had to be one of the most amazing
experiences I've ever had. To have them show up
together, see them as adults, responsible citizens,
loving spouses and parents, with a glass of wine in
hand, no less. I found myself being much moved by
these young women who prepared such a bountiful
banquet, right down to the essentials so I wouldn't
have to wash dishes afterwards. Fancy desserts and
a bouquet of lovely flowers topped it all off.
Absolutely best of all, of course, was visiting with
them, listening to their hopes and dreams, observing
their obvious friendship, and love for their families.
I simply feel deeply honored to know them. Harking
back, I thank the gods that I was given the opportunity
to be a teacher. I truly believe there is no greater
privilege than the sharing in the lives and learning
with our young people. What a gift! One of my
students made the remark that the bottom line, the
essence, is whether you love your work or not. I
would have to agree although I don't recall thinking
in those terms exactly. This I know; I loved teaching,
I adored my students . . . what a privilege to serve.

a ticket to ride
a trip down memory lane
hold onto your hats

11/04/18

I wonder, have we always experienced so
much sorrow? I imagine the answer would
have to be, yes! It seems each generation
has known war, hunger, lack of hearth and
home, a need of warmth, a cry for help.
Hark back to the slogans . . . Think positive!
Be happy! Yet, obviously, there are certain
needs that have to be met in order for said
slogans to come to fruition. And as we are
living today midst dire questions such as,
Who do we vote for? What do we do with the
broken families at the border? How do we
help and/or address the needs of the caravan?
Me thinks these issues have little or nothing
to do with our political leanings and more to
do with our own sense of right and wrong. I
certainly don't have the answers, so why
bring up these issues at all? Again, it occurs
to me that I may not be of much help to all
the ongoing problems that surround us. There
is a limit to the donations I can make or the
food I can gift . . . but, if each of us commit
to helping as many as we can, those nearest
us, the world will ultimately be a better place.
Just think about it . . . again with the concentric
circles . . . it all starts with ME, with YOU with
US, and as each of us reaches out a helping hand,
the ripple effect will have some kind of positive
effect. Let's each DO our part. Let's each HELP
someone near us. Let's each MAKE something
good happen and surely our gifts will keep on
giving.

there must be a way
finding myself at a loss
i so long to help

11/03/18

We are each born with a broad variety of cultures
to our credit column . . . albeit our racial heritage
such as Jewish, English, German, Asian, African.
Add in our wondrous paint palette . . . red, yellow,
black, white . . . our fun features . . . tall, short,
fat, thin . . . our personality traits . . . gregarious,
private, quiet, loud, interesting, dull, fun, boring . . .
and we have a myriad of amazing souls on this
planet that seem bound and determined NOT to
get along. I like to think that in the nigh onto 100
years I've been on this planet that things have
improved. Yet, it occurs to me that the only thing
that has changed is the costume in which we
present our own personal 'isms'. Are there truly
any answers? Is there anything really that we can
actually do? Perhaps the old cliche that everything
begins with ME, is right. From there, we make the
effort to make things right within our familial circle.
Choose our friends wisely and carefully . . . and
as each and everyone of us continues on with our
own circles, GOOD will grow. Right will survive.
CORRECT will enhance and perhaps HONOR will
win the day. Start we ME; start with YOU; let's
become US.

exhausted from hate
striving as fast as i can
may peace win the day

11/02/18 - All Souls Day

Thank the gods it's time to make Mole again.
Not that it's ever not Mole Season, but I tend
to like to make it around Tamale Season. I was
rather beyond fortunate that my in-laws swept
me away at the tender age of 18 and spent three
days teaching me to make mole. The women nigh
onto sang and danced their stories, making me one
of the family. Before the mole making began, I had
to promise that I would never share the secret
familial recipe with anyone other than my daughters.
In this world of sibling equality, I've included my sons,
obviously. This old family recipe has right around 100
ingredients; it takes weeks just to amass them. Today,
I'll stem and seed the chile pods and put them on the
boil. I don't even want to talk about all the grinding
and straining that comes later. Through the weeks,
we've all been collecting leftover wine to add to the
mix, if there even is such an animal. Bits and pieces
of chocolate need to be melted (and tasted) as one of
the most fun ingredients. Spices only to be found in
Southern Mexico, much cherished and held close to
the heart must be organized. Ripened bananas . . .
better stop before I tip my hand. These wonderful,
magical ingredients coming together in a three-day
cultural journey of memories, both sorrowful and
joyful, will soon be served over scrumptious chicken,
black beans and yellow rice . . . thus ending in joy
our three days of mourning and remembrance of
our loved ones long lost.

break bread together
sharing both joy and sorrow
remembering you

11/01/18 - Día de los Inocentes

Despierto el día de hoy recordando que es

el Día de los Inocentes. Simplemente la idea

de habernos perdido a tantos niños el la historia

nuestra es suficiente para dejar a uno atónito.

Me imagino que entre los pesares humanos, no

hay alguno que pudiera doler tanto como la

pérdida de un niño. Ojalá tuviéramos los medios,

la inteligencia, el don de Dios, para cuidar a

nuestros hijos de modo que jamás perdiéramos

uno sólo. En éste, el Día de los Inocentes, quiero

también recordar a los padres porque ellos son

los que se queden aquí, tratándose de enfrentar

cada día sin poder ver la carita de su hijo, su

hija . . . sin ganas de vivir pero teniéndose que 

seguir adelante por el resto de la familia, para

proveer para sus necesidades. Pienso en la madre

que se encuentra con los brazos vacíos, los pechos

llenos sin podérsele amamantar a su pequeño. Su

corazón destrozado . . .  valientemente sigue 

poniendo pan a la mesa, lavando la ropa, llorando

a mares cuando se encuentra una prenda de su

hijo ya descansando en paz. Nunca nos hemos

engañado con la idea que la vida es fácil, pero para

los que hayan perdido a un bebé, un niño, la vida

se presenta como la carga más pesado del mundo.

Recordémosles en nuestras plegarías porque ellos

son los verdaderos santos en este arduo camino

sin luz alguna.

luz de mi vida

en dónde te encuentras 

extrañándote