Are You an Uppie or an Undie...................by Julianna Rowe

Me, I'm an Uppie! Not a young and upcoming Entrepreneur, but an Uppie. Using Podie Paper (on) Inteneded End. That is putting toilet paper where it unrolls topside. Some people like it to unroll downside....nope, it gets lost that way. And it is just simply wrong! Have you ever needed IT and IT is not to be found. How does one lean, bend, and then have to sometimes turn sideways and then bend and turn again and IT is stuck on the backside...no not thy backside, ITS backside. At this point if you or I need to be to work or somewhere, you spin IT... Nothing....You spin IT again....nothing...IT is STUCK and so are you. What to do? Next time replace IT as an Uppie not an Undie. Undie's get STUCK don't they? All puns intended. Ever been walking and undie is stuck? Sure you have. Seeing people unstick the undie isn't good. Problem is? Your toilet paper, or tissue paper, lavoratory paper, podie paper, or corn cobs, Sears catalog, whatever one uses, IT sticks, makes you late, makes you mad, makes you stuck if you don't figure IT out. So, are you an uppie and an undie? Personally, which obviously I am not too personal or I wouldn't share so much! Hey I'm honest and open to a degree, but then to what degree is the question? Most folks don't discuss their bathroom issues. Why not, we all have them. They are normal. Well undie rollers aren't normal in my estimation or blog estimation anyway. Maybe they are Republicans, or Dems. Whom-ever you think is worse! I do wonder what the statistics would say? imustbedreaming.wordpress.com

Penny Loafers.............by Julianna Rowe

 Penny Loafers.....  

I was so excited to get my 1960's brown leather penny loafers to wear this fall with my cool jeans and flannel shirts.  

Sometimes it takes me more than once to learn a lesson as most of my friends can attest to considering my relationships of past which cost me way more than these VERY poor imitation of the photo I thought I was ordering. 

When searching GOOGLE for these priceless brown loafers I found a sight called Floralmoda.com.  What I did not learn was any sight that says USD ahead of the price....DO NOT BUY or even entertain the thought of it. 

Altogether my purchase was $50.00 of which I will never see again.  What I received gave me and my family a lot of laughs to say the least.  

The package came today and I was so excited.  I opened it in front of my son and his fiancé.  I screamed.  He laughed. And she said.

"Never buy anything with USD in front of the price."

I repeated that so you all get the lesson the first time.

They are rubber and sewn on a regular sewing machine.  

These are the poorest excuse of a shoe and they smell bad.  Like chemicals.  I suspect the pattern is cut out of a large piece of rubber or plastic before being sewn.  I can only hope I learn this and a couple other lessons before I check out from this planet.  I am so embarrassed.  And angry.  That is a lot of money.   Then we all laughed.

Fifty Shades of Illegal...............by Julianna Rowe

How the system of bad-good guys uses people who have made errors to further themselves.

They take people who have made mistakes and turn them into money making monkeys.  Scientifically at times.  Put them in corporate concentration camps called prisons.  Give them menial medical attention.  Let them die as in Oushwitz, Germany as in Hitler..  The Corp-orations are nothing more than gassing people in  these prisons.  Horrible people run these places.  And where horrible people are horrible things happen.  Where troubled people are, trouble happens.  There is no rehabilitation!!  Only agitation and humiliation and degradation. The Warden that gets the job is the one that saves the corp the most money. He is truly the loser but that wont show until the hereafter because there really is such a thing as KARMA you sons of bad mothers..... 

To right the wrong system is possible.  :Merely costs big bucks only corps have.  So they win each round.  You can try to sue them but JUDGES let the cases sit on their desks forever.  They laugh at the incarcerated.  They enjoy the medieval grandstands of killing and hate while they eat grapes and have sex with their women and drink wine.  We have not evolved from those times and as I see it never will.  We must use each other up the way we are! (As my Papa Joe always said)  Stay under the radar.....don't rock the boat of anyone more powerful that thyself....  Not so smart.  Seek the spiritual word is my only advice.  Don't type any key words Google can send to the government because they are doing just that, searching the key words..  I can type something in an email and the next day I get an email advertising of reference regarding it.  So I know they caught the key words. 

My point?   Prison system is horrid.  Avoid it like eboli virus or COVID19!  Nothing is worse then being in a cage and no one comes with the help you truly need.  UNLESS YOU HAVE  ENOUGH MONEY.....  Don't say sad.  Just get the damn money and make it happen.  Go with the flow of fifty shades of illegal.....  Turn it around like the movie story did.  Turn it around.  Thank You God for opening the bars for my son Daniel R. Hull.  He is as wise a man as Paul.  Well maybe not quite, but a good man with much to offer on the outside. 

I found this poem written by a Judge Dennis Chaleen. 

                               Prisoners

We want them to have self worth, so we destroy their self worth.

To be responsible, so we take away all responsibility

To be part of our community, so we isolate them from the community

To be positive and constructive, so we degrade them and make them useless

To be non violent, so we put them where there is violence all around

To be kind and loving people, so we subject them to hatred and cruelty

To quit being tough guys, so we put them where the tough guy is respected

To quit hanging around losers, so we put all the losers under one roof

To quit exploiting us, so we put them where they exploit each other

We want them to take control of their own lives own their own problems and quit being parasites, so we make them totally dependent on us

Death..............by Julianna Rowe

Death.  Is it the end or the new beginning?  I hope its like the story of the Dragonflies: Dragonfly nymphs live in the water while they grow and develop into dragonflies. This portion of the dragonfly life cycle can take up to four years to complete.  And when they have developed to a certain life phase they leave their water family and friends to fly away to another world. Their water family WONDERs where they went.   Just like we WONDER where our people go when they pass on in death. 

Today my friend died. That is her on the right. 

I feel bad for myself because she added some very special things to my life.  She taught me to keep giving love even though I had been hurt so badly.  She taught me to be gracefully still and watch for good to come forth.  She was gentle yet strong, carried herself with compassion, courage, and ease.  Everyone that met her loved her even though she told me she didn't understand why.  That her mother had taught her at an young age that she was unlovable.  Yet before she passed on she was shown by many in this life how much she was loved. 

She always thought of the other person first.  She had values yet strayed from them on occasion and we would laugh and discuss those times trying to make good from them.   She was honest. She was tenacious like I used to be. She taught me to get out of my self made cardboard box and live. To be brave. That it wasn't a coffin all nailed shut, rather a box I could step out of.  Yet she ended up the one in the coffin, not me.  She had integrity. She was intelligent and could shut down any discussion using her beliefs and her wise words. 

She loved her grandson to the moon.  Wanted to live just one more month to see him get his black belt.  She singlehandedly had gotten him that far.  She wanted to live for him.  He is only twelve.  

We grew up as neighbors me being six years her senior.  Our mothers were much alike as were our fathers.  She told me she always looked up to me.  The teenager with a horse who gave her a ride one day.  Said she never forgot it.  She gave me back way more than I ever gave her. in my mind anyway.  She never preached to me, rather she showed me by how she lived.  She was a flannel shirt and blue jeans lady but one of the most beautiful women inside and out I had ever known and I needed her and she is gone.  Selfish?  Maybe.  Its been a very long year in my life and she came into it in the middle of what most would say a learning time. I have to believe that or I might die of the pain it caused my soul and spirit.  I learned she was enduring the same pain and grief I was.  One day after she told me she had stage 4 pancreatic cancer I sent her this message. The one about Thelma and Louise.  We laughed like she was never going to die.  We prayed for her to live two more years but life only gave her two months.  

She was in love for the first time in her life.  They were making plans to be together but that never came to life. He may not have been my choice for her but he was her choice and I respected that.   We would talk about him for hours.  

There were other men that loved her just from seeing her photo and talking politics with her or any other subject.  She could hold the floor yet was tender like a man likes a woman to be.  She was not weak, no, I said tender.  Loving and caring and giving of herself.  Always giving. She rarely cried.   I cried all the time this past year.  She taught me not to cry anymore....To get out of the house and join the world again.  To work on retrieving the old me.  The happy lady who was giving and caring.  Yet she didn't belittle me for loving someone for many years that didn't love me like I felt  I should be. 

She told me she loved me.  And she did. And I loved her as the friend she had become in our later years.  We shared so many similar life issues.  

I didn't think she was finished with life.  But someone higher up said she was. 

I selfishly cry even though I believe she flies free. 

Song Associations ....... by Julianna Rowe

Obviously the photo is me wailing out some tune before bedtime!
As you all know or may not know...I live by associations.  When I go to a certain clients and their dog Benny greets me...that's it, its all over!  I start to sing immediately. "Benny and The Jets, bomb bomb ba bomb and so on!   

I sing "Old Cape Cod" and "I Was Waltzing with my Darling" and I wasn't even born yet at the time those songs were around.  

I am at another clients in her nautical room, and so begins, "Row Row Row Your Boat."  

If someone tells me they are sorry, I start..."I'm Sorry, So Sorry" by Connie Francis!  For hours!  Waltzing Mathilda is another one. 

One day my friend said someone was stupid!  That is all it took for me to start:  "Stupid Cupid, Stop Pickin' on Me!"  

The other day I put a James Blunt CD in and listened to it more than once.  Big mistake.  For two days, including middle of the night I sang, "Your Beautiful!" The medical name for that is "Ear Worms."  How disgusting. I sang to that woman James Blunt saw in crowd for two days and nights.  I did not want to sing to her for him or me.  I gave the CD away the next day. 

I met a guy who never stopped talking.  For days I sang. "You Talk to Much, You scare me half to death, you just talk talk talk to much, You talk about people that you dont know, You talk about people wherever you go!"

If I see a rainbow I'm off with Liza Minnelli's mother's (Judy Garland) "Over the Rainbow" and that one I don't do so well. 

If I hear on the news someone is to be executed  I start in with "Hang Down Your Head Tom Dooley, poor boy your bound to die!"

And if anyone tells me they had a dream.  "Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, make him the sweetest that I've ever seen, make his complexion like peaches and cream, and tell me that my lonely nights are over. Mr. Sandman, I'm so alone, don't have nobody to call my own, please turn on your magic dream! Guess that one is my fav. huh?  Clue: It was on the first album I ever rec'd for Christmas with my new Hi Fi Stereo at age 12. 

God forbid if anyone introduces me to anyone named Maria!  In fact I had a woman named Maria work for me for a long time and I sang, "Maria," from West Side Story over and over.  

Do I need meds?  Probably but then there are worse things than singing, aren't there?   I keep saying I am going to keep a list of all the songs I sing in one day and what prompts them, but then I don't do it.
I am amazed at the part of my brain that remembers all those songs.  Yet when the doctor gives me the THREE WORD TEST....I fail it miserably.  Hope its not time for brain dye!

(This is a re-post from 2011)

Garlic..........by Julianna Rowe

How can one little piece of something called GARLIC smell so bad like ass.  I hope my mother doesn't read this.  Or my kids.  Or my clients.  But hey... garlic after eaten, mixed with saliva or whatever body fluids it uses to digest, smells awful.
And the person that eats it, said person cant smell it!  I mean who cant smell ass if it's in the room?  You know unclean ass anyway.  Oh I shouldn't speak this way.  Why not?  It's the truth and we are not on censored TV.  Fact is I heard on Dr. Oz the other day that garlic is a natural antibiotic.  I am here to tell you I won't be sick for many a long time then.  My friends dog actually likes it even though I just found it he shouldn't. But then dogs likes dirty under ware too.  I told you what Garlic smells like you know what! On the other hand my two cats notsomuch.  They are staying far away from me and my breathing air in and out thingy. 
I can hear people screaming as they run away from the smell when I get the mail in the small entrance to my apartment complex.  Good things sometimes come in small smelly packages called GARLIC!  What else in this world do we eat that makes us smell so bad and comes out our pours and breath like garlic?  I wonder if I drank some baking soda if it would take it away. Or some lemon juice?  Or just go to bed and only eat it when I am alone and I've finished for the day. I think so.  There are always garlic pills but you cant spread those on your pork chop or burger.  I know I know, red meat issues.  But wont the garlic kill all those issues? Probably.  And do not go to a movie and sit anywhere after eating garlic because it happened to me once.  The man behind me must have eaten an entire clove because I almost threw up it was soooo bad.  Like I said, eat it only when  alone and home!  If married, both eat it at the same time is the solution.. It really does smell like ass. But then so do onions, beans and booze afterward.  What!   I can't fix it!  I live alone so I don't really care.  Just sayin'!  What's the Happy News? The darn stuff keeps you healthy but stinky.  So does poop.  Dr. Oz says Pooping is life. Same as getting born, having to die.  Eat food to live, then poop and stink.  It's all good.  It's life.  I remember when I was about 6 or 7 years old.  We would go to my Grandma's and Grandpa's over by the Arboretum....  They had no indoor rest room (I am trying to class up here toward the end :))
No rest room.....an outdoor toilet. While sitting on the hole (eeww I actually remember it vividly) I noticed a writing on the wall.  Written was:  "Some people come here to sit and think, others come here to shit and stink!"   Seriously, I swear, that is what I read as a 6-7 year old and have remembered it for many decades more along with the fact I had to use a Sears catalog page to wipe my garlic ass.   I didn't eat garlic then!  I shouldn't say ass.  I should say or type ars.  That is nicer. I will be nicer tomorrow. I had to type what came to my head tonight.  God forgive me.   We can all rise above the "crap" on earth. The garlics of life.  
photo from:  www.thestuckcreative.wordpress.com  And I do not know that guy!  

The Red Tailed Hawk (Came to me in a dream)..........................by Julianna Rowe

Red Tail Hawk....
I was kneeling on the lawn of my apartment complex holding a child.   My two grown sons were on top of one of the building units watching an unbelievable scene about to take place. 

Something drew me to look upward an that is when I found myself watching the most beautiful Leucistic Red Tail Hawk soaring downward toward me.  I should have been frightened but I was not.  The site of his huge bigger than life wingspan of brown and white feathers came closer and closer.  His feathers were so vivid my eyes knew he came from another world.

He landed directly before and aside me yet all through me.  I still wasn't frightened.  To this day years later I still see the intensity in his eyes as I write this memory.  He leaned his majestic white head toward me then touched the child's head with his.  I knew he had come forth with a healing.  I reached out and touched his neck.  I could feel his strength through the dense feathers.  He allowed me to stroke his neck with my fingers.  That is when I heard the boys holler down, 

 "Is that a Hawk?"  

I was afraid to shout back that it was for fear of disturbing our heavenly connection.  I did not respond to my sons, rather I loudly spoke one word.

 "Dad!"   

My intention as I recall now was to call my deceased Dad to come see this amazing creature.  Or was it me telling my sons it was my Dad who was sitting before me as "The Hawk".  I saw my mother in the background at another house being busy and not interested in "The Hawk."   My Dad never came after I called out his name.  That is because he was "The Hawk."  Allowed to come from the here-after to assist me at a difficult time. I know this without a shadow of a doubt.

 

Recently I had experienced some real life on earth problems with a few people.  My Dad was not pleased with all the naughty little inconsiderate attacking birds (people) around me.   I believe the child I was holding was myself.  (Who by the way disappeared after the Hawk touched her with his majestic healing strength) We all have a child within us no matter our age and apparently my little child needed a healing touch.  I must have had some childhood memories that were holding me back.

I believe in Animal Totems.  When I woke up from this vivid dream at 4:30 a.m. I fixed a cup of decaf with some added cocoa, pulled out my Animal Totem book by Ted Andrews and found the description of The Hawk Totem.  Simply put, it means if you encounter the same animal several times or in a dream such as mine, it usually means they are trying to tell you something.  Listen. 

Example:  From page 154 Ted Andrews/Animals Speak
Hawks are occasionally harassed and attacked by smaller birds.  This is very significant for those  who have a hawk as a totem.  It indicates that there are likely to be attacks by people who wont understand you or the varied and different uses  of your creative energy.  They may attack your ability to soar.

That is exactly what was happening to me in real life. 

The Hawk showing me his majestic soaring toward me was also described in the book. 
"Rising to a higher level can bring a rapid development of the psychic energies.  The red-tailed hawk helps us in balancing and using those senses appropriately.  It teaches the balance necessary to discover our true purpose in life.  The hawk is a catalyst, stimulating hope and new ideas."

 

To the Pueblo Indians, the red-tailed hawk was known as the red eagle.  Its feathers and energies were used in healing ceremonies and for bringing the rains and waters necessary for life.  To the Ojibwa, the red-tailed hawk represented leadership, deliberation, and foresight.  "Hawk is akin to Mercury, the messenger of the gods. Hawk medicine teaches you to be observant.  Life is sending you signals. The red-tail can spread its wings to a great width, (which I observed in the dream) and it can teach you to use your creative energies in the same way.  It can extend the vision of your life as it did mine.

 

The sky is the realm of he hawk.  Through its flight it communicates with humans and with the great creator spirit.  It awakens our vision and inspires us to a creative purpose.

 

When something comes from heaven there is no way to find a photo to represent it properly.  The strength isn't of an earthly nature.  The colors are not of an earthly nature.  I hope my description was enough to show my visitor was real.  Love you Dad, Thank you!

 

Top photo from Lois of Flickr.

 

Ghosts of The Last Arboretum Farm..... by Diane Ogden

I was six years old, riding in the back seat of my Dad's 1948 Chevrolet, no seat belts.  In my little mind we were on the longest driveway in the history of my world.  I had traveled that driveway many times in my little life.  It was a right turn off the old Highway 1 twelve now known as the beltline at Todd Drive.  I'm sure Arbor Hills still holds the ghosts of that last old farm Bowman Dairy owned and where my Grandpa and Grandma Jungbluth lived and milked a herd of Holsteins for the dairy.  I also recall "Pa" had two big workhorses he plowed the fields with in his dark blue patched and faded coveralls holding as he steered the heavy metal plow behind the huge blonde work horses. 

In my Grandma's eyes I could do no wrong. And then one day we moved away.  I was seven and never saw her again.  But I never forgot her, ever.

We came back to Wisconsin for a vacation many years later and drove up the long driveway to the place I remembered as my Grandparents farm.  It was deserted.  We walked to the barn where tools lay strewn about in pieces of straw.  Above on a makeshift poor man's hooks hung bridles and rope, an old barrel, and a pitchfork.  It was as though time stood still and at any moment Pa would saunter in with his unshaven face, chew under his lip, and a half cocked smile.  But Pa didn't walk in.

As we sauntered around the barn I stopped "dead."  There in the grass was my "Pa's" boot.  The boot he used to step into to do his chores and live his life daily life.  Pa's boot was empty but his ghostly presence  touched all of us.  My Dad's eyes watered up as he continued walking. He did not pick up the boot nor take it with us.  Me, being overly sentimental would have taken the darn thing home for some godly or ungodly reason.  Put a plant in it or something!! But that did not happen. 

Today, decades later, I went on a business call to give an upcoming client an estimate.  My GPS took me into Arbor Hills exactly where my Grandparents farm had been.  Where the outhouse sat fifteen feet from the RR tracks and shook like the dickens when it passed.  I recall! I had no idea this is where my possible new client lived until I turned off Todd Drive onto the frontage road.  My eyes started scanning the area.  Where is the long road?  Where are the RR tracks?  Who lives on the land I used to love and be loved at?

I pulled into her driveway and knocked.  We introduced ourselves and I couldn't contain myself a second longer....I asked if there was a RR track close by.  That my Grandparents lived on an old farm at the edge of the Arboretum and I believe very close to right here.  She said yes.  The old RR tracks were removed a couple years ago and replaced with a paved bike trail.  She then told me a story her neighbor had shared with her about an old farm up in the woods with a very long driveway...where she had attended a couple parties in the past.  Seems a single man lived there for a time.  Why I could hardly believe my ears were hearing this.  I had walked into my past and was eager to hear more.  She told me she would get me in touch with her neighbor soon. Not soon enough I thought.  Even though it had been 50 some years since I last saw it, I was suddenly impatient.

Not only was this a time capsule moment but let me add her home was out of this world amazing. Right out of Odana Road Antique Shop.  Everything used and from the earth.  It was not dusty, rusty, and old like in the PICKERS show.. Rather it carried an air of creative class along with a huge Bison rug in the family room.  The family orders bison meat and the coat comes with it. Don't ask!  All I know is I have to have one considering my maternal Grandfather had the first Bison Ranch in Texas.  I was getting all my time capsule bases met in one day... This one.

I walked out of her home telling her how special it had been for me to have met her and her home.  She responded likewise.  We exchanged facebook information and hope to talk again soon.  She gave me directions to the entrance of the conservatory where the RR tracks were and where I might find a Hawk feather like the two she found and displayed in her home.  I told her after my Father passed away he came to me in a vivid dream  as a beautiful Red Tailed Hawk.  Strong dream.  Since then I have wanted a Hawk feather as a reminder that my father watches over me still.  I believe I will find it soon on the trail of he and his fathers old farm.

My French Lover.........by Julianna Rowe

 Chapter ?:   Never Try to Out-Con a Con...... 

I had found myself falling in love with LaReigne Lucrece at this later stage in my life.  He came to me totally out of the blue, one day as I was stopped at a red light.  Yes, a red light.  I was acting up as usual with my comedic Halloween bloody leg hanging out the side of my car with a magnetic sign next to it saying, "My Last X Husband."   That produced LaReigne to jump out of his little convertible sports machine, run around to my side of my SUV and hand me his card. 

He said, "Call me Babe, or I'll call you....Je t'apprecie Belle.' "  (I like you)

You see my number was on the side of my vehicle in the form of an employment advertisement.

 Several days past with no call from the handsome Frenchman and then my phone rang, only to hear the very raspy voice of LaReigne Lucrece.  I can’t say I was not pleased. Of course, I was and to say I hadn't waited for it would be a lie.

As time passed, we became very close as well as intimately close.  He was the most romantic lover I had experienced in my life.   He seemed to love me from somewhere deep inside his soul along with every other part of his being.  I was not used to a man that gave of himself so deeply and with such selfless intent.

My neighbor, who leaned toward hearing from the beyond stopped in to blatantly tell me not to see this man anymore as he is known for sleeping with women and then telling them he must leave the country for various reasons.   I argued with her, saying no, no, he loves me.  She flipped her long black hair and curtly walked out of my apartment saying.

 "You will see Missy!"

The affair continued a glorious few weeks longer. Then without any warning one evening after an amazing lovemaking session, you know, the kind where it seemed extra intent was at hand?  It was then he told me he needed to talk to me about something.  I obviously was not prepared for what came next although I handled it perfectly, thanks to my neighbor and the fact I was not a young woman with a brain of mush. Only a bit of mush left.  He calmly and with his sex filled French accent said.

 "I rent out my home in Paris to friends and famous people for parties.  There have been some problems and I must go back and take care of them. I hope you will understand my little Cheri." 

I did not flinch nor fall apart.  I did not cry.  I did not react in anyway whatsoever except to offer up a slight grin.  He immediately caught it.

 "What is that?  No, what is that? "

I replied with no emotion.

 "Oh nothing, I understand how these things can happen.  So, when are you leaving?"  He replied to me as soon as possible. 

I spoke calmly.

"Well let’s have an outing before you go LaReigne?  One last outing?  Okay?"   

I found myself listening and waiting intently to what he might have to say.  I decided I wanted to follow this game out to the end.  Who knows, might make for a good book someday.  I never did know when to quit. Nor did I ever learn to play poker.   I should have.

The following day LeReigne and I picnicked near the lake.  We were walking and reminiscing close to a wooded area when my neighbor, the one that foretells the future, comes walking out of the woods and down a hill towards us saying loudly how she is aware of his intentions, how dare he do this. She continued loudly and with great emotion how she and her other friends have warned me regarding who you are and what you are like.  What you have done to many of the women in your past.

LaReigne stopped dead, turned, and looked directly into my eyes just as he did when he made passionate love to me. 

I pretended to be stunned.  To know nothing of what this woman was spewing.  That is when I looked at her and shouted.

 "STOP!"  

But LeReigne turned and walked away.  It was too late for me to repair the damage.  Stupid woman! I wanted so badly to turn the tables on LaReigne.  For once I wanted to come out on the head end of a deal vs the tail end.  I have always heard one should never try to outcon a con. And  I had lost and now he was gone forever. Truth is I was the stupid woman.  Others had tried to save me where I thought I out of many new best.

After the Frenchman ordeal settled down, I was summoned to a property my family owned.  I was to prepare it for sale.  I had never seen it before so I put the address in my GPS and headed out for the county side.  I didn't tell anyone where I was going.  Something I forgot to do more than once.

After what seemed like thirty miles I finally came to the proper address. I couldn't see the main property because of the long driveway up to what appeared to be a huge mansion.  It looked like something out of a movie set.  The garage door opener worked so, I pulled right in like I owned the place.  I guess I did.  I was selling it for our family trust even though I knew very little about it.  I was about to learn more than I wanted or needed to know.  When I initially walked in all appeared to be a normal, yet, a very royal mansion.  Marble floors, gold embossed framing around each doorway, as well as the intricate wood carvings surrounding each fireplace in every room.  Still there was a very eerie feeling surrounding me.  The thought came more than once that I should let someone know where I was.  Yet I did not. I made it up the winding staircase to the second floor and couldn't help but notice how many rooms there were with closed doors.  And in the center of all the doors which circled the area were barred rooms.  Oh my God, it was a prison.  The entire second floor of our family mansion was a prison I had never been aware of.  What was behind the doors?  I tried to open one but I was not able to.  I pushed as hard as I could and it only budged enough for me to see light through the crack.  It was obvious those doors had not been opened for many years.  It was then I was halted in my every movement and thought as I heard voices.  Here I am in an old mansion, out in the middle of nowhere, a jailhouse with locked doors all around it, I am hearing voices and no one knows where I am.  I just need to get out of here and now. It was at that moment that I recognized LeReigne's voice.  What was he doing here? Fear began to rush through every cell of my body.  My rational mind concluded this could be him trying to gain hold of my family’s property in some way.  I found my way down the stairs and out into the garage.  My spirit sensed he knew I was there.  I then realized the men with him were there to help him kill me. Somehow, he had gained control of the papers giving him sole rights to my inheritance.

On the floor was a piece of paper with a small round type metal item that looked like a battery. But it was not a battery rather a connection source.  His plan was to soak that in gasoline, pretend that it was a love letter he intended to give me when he left for Paris.  But upon my touch, it was to blow up in my hand and take me out when I touched the connector.  My spirit literally spoke those words to me.  I decided to reverse his game and do it to him instead or maybe just get the hell out of there.  I jumped into my vehicle and put it in reverse. My intention was to get down that driveway and out of there.  Forget winning any game with LaReigne.  Get out and back to the reality of my old life in the city.  It was then that I went into fear mode. I couldn't tell if I was in drive, or reverse, or neutral from the terror that had taken over.  I couldn't recall if my doors were locked or even which way the lever went to lock/unlock. As I was thrashing in fear searching for my senses, LaReigne jumped into my vehicle staring into my eyes as he grinned an evil smirk and said nothing.  I had irretrievably once again and on a larger scale than I ever dreamed could happen to this small-town woman lost at life once again. I had nothing else to lose.  I drove as fast as I could to the end of the driveway.....the only control I had was behind the wheel of that vehicle and he was not going to take that away as well. No one would ever take that away again.  I pulled out of that driveway of life into the path of an oncoming semi going at the least seventy miles per hour.  I had just enough time to look into LaReigne's terrified eyes and smile letting him know I had won the last round. 

Remember. Never try to con and con.  This time: No one won. No one.

Best Bra for the Penis.......by Julianna Rowe

Let's begin with my Bra's:  I am going to hang it to its death from an old oak tree!  Or use it for target practice with anything I can find including illegal weapons!  Or put someone I  hate's picture inside its cup and burn it at the stake outside under a tree!  Or I might electrocute it with hot wires I learned how to do in High School! Or put it on my car manifold with limburger cheese and let it suffer like it has done to me!  Or put it out in a storm so it washes away down a dirty scary storm drain!  Or throw it out the window on the beltline! Or pull it apart thread by thread never to live again! Or waterboard it and then put it in the garbage can! Buy it a ticket to Siberia! And now I just read what to do about bra spillage.  Men should be so lucky to have excess penis as to where it spills out the sides of their underthings. We ladies are only allowed a few sizes.  No halfsies!  How would you guys feel if you were sized up like we are?  Men's holder would be calLled Prenis's.  Like our Bra's.  Boobs Bras.  Penis's Prenis's.  So there would be Prenis 4's and Prenis 5's.  Prenis 6's.  Prenis 7's  Prenis 8's  Prenis 9's and then we would go into the big and tall shop.  LOL.  

Who ever said or decided women REQUIRED A BRASIERE?  The French Word "Brassiere" came form the older word brasiere which meant "Arm Protector."  A bra was a type of military armor. (To fight off men!)  Before there were bra's, women often used a span of fabric to support their breasts.  Often this was achieved by binding their breasts with cloths wrapped around their chests.  Another method was to take the cloth and support the breasts from under and over the shoulders as well as having the breast BOUND with the cloth around the chest.  About the 16th century women began to wear corsets to support their breasts with gave a lift to her breasts whiles giving a smooth curved shape to her waist and hips.  These were often strengthened with BONE. Actual BONE.  The downside of this was that is was  difficult to put on and take off as well as being highly restrictive to BREATHING.  And quite uncomfortable

What?  My mammary glands are  not interfering with my arms.  My arms need no protection from my breasts.  And how would the boys to men feel or should I say react to a span of fabric supporting their penis and or testicles.  Maybe us women would like to see your male penis's standing at attention like you do our breasts standing at attention.  Or how about the cloths binding your penis's as the cloth is wrapped around it and up around your chests and neck to HELP it or them stand up.  They call that extra Support!  "An over the shoulder penis holder!"  Anyone recall that phrase?  Or maybe a girdle with an opening to hold your male penis upright so we can all see it like you men do our breasts.  Yah.  Perky you like huh?  Maybe its your turn.  Nipples and circumsized versus uncircumsized we could get a glimpse of.  What a thrill that would be for us women to make dating decisions easier like you men do.  Not to mention th3e corsets would downsize the male "BELLY" and NOT AFFECT HIS BREATHING at all.

So.,..let's talk about the actual BONE used in women's bra's!!  Really?  Putting an animal bone in a bra to hold up the babes!!!  What about the "Boner" men get when they shouldn't?  Do I know this is outside the realm of lets not talk about it?  Sure I do.  Do I care?  NOPE!  I have had it with  men getting all the rights, all the wages, all the control.  Your days are numbered fellows. 

I had part of my lung removed and bra's cause me life breathing issues.  Yes it isn't appropriate to not wear one so I figure its only fair.....you all need to show what you have that stand the tale of time just like we do.  Right? Right!

I had a guy friend who once told me he could hold up a beach towel with his erected penis.  He is now 73 and cannot do that nor can my breasts salute the sun.  Yet he likes to look and think he can still make whoopie with the girls that salute the sun.  Dumbass.   This is the way it is. And how dare men expect anything but what this dear life offers us.  We are not cows.  We are what God / The Universe blessed you with and you need to learn to stop whistling and start bowing down in great appreciation to us or someday you will get the KARMA and women will rule and you all will be walking around comparing penis's in public like we do breasts.  Nott to mention getting surgeries to lengthen and enhance your Peep.  Time to step up boys before its too late.

 

.

My Three Husbands are DEAD .... (and I didn't do it) by Julianna Rowe

Sitting in my office late one evening, meaning like last night, watching an old Netflix movie.  As it ended I had the revelation question:  WHY WAS I WAS BORN.?....  I have always wondered, which my mentor tells me not to do as she believes strongly that means I don't have enough faith in God.  I say hogwash.  Of course I do, its just that I believe in more.  God gives us MORE. I don't hide behind God.  Humm maybe I should.
I personally have had a football field life. In all honesty I have learned the common skills of receiving which include passing, tackling, evasion of tackles, catching and kicking all sort of bullshit out of my huddle.  I could pull out a few positives and I do because I am the great pretender that all is well as my license plate reads, ALSWELL.  I could and do listen to motivational speakers to pull myself out of the quicksand I have feared and imagined since childhood. But the truth is .....my life has been a steady stream of bad plays.  All sort of matters I don't fancy. I could explain it by saying:  I have a life I watch happen while wondering wtf?  Yes wtf?  So, my physician sent me to a counselor.  The first appointment of ONE HOUR, I was told I deserve to say that f bomb word.  She also said they had no one available except a student to work with me.  I laughed.  The poor student.  How dare she do that to basically a child.  I left the building with no further contact with the child counselor.  
I am a person born to love.  I am a nurturer, caretaker, lover of creativity, rhyme, and much fancy.  Glitz, fun, colored lites, jokes, singing and so on.  A person who has been hit with the baseball, crushed by the football quarterbacks, smashed by the tennis racket, hit with the hockey puck, thrown by the horse, run over by the truck, and last but certainly not least, hit with a family shotgun, and so on. 
What was my revelation before continuing my rant describing a difficult misunderstood life.....? 
My question is simply, why was I born?  
Maybe it was the son who aspires to be a famous actor.
Maybe it was the son whose Dutch wife who wished seclusion from everyone and changed their names so no one could find them. And who sent me a funeral card stating my son was dead when he was not.  No worries he dumped that nasty person and is doing well now.                 
Or maybe the son who thought I overstepped my boundaries. Don't all Grandma's?  At least once!
Or maybe the Granddaughter who cant publicly acknowledge me for fear her step dad might find out he paid for the wrong kid all his life.  Add I do not get to be a part of  her son's, my Great Grandson's life due to that fact as well.
Or maybe it's the step Granddaughter who believes she is a wounded soul and throws fits at every family gathering to the point there will no longer be any. 
Maybe it is the son who is imprisoned who may change the life of another inmate because no matter what we do we cant unimprison him. 
Maybe it is the daughter whose daughter may be President someday or better yet a Senator....or even better yet, happy and un-cursed by the other side of her family. (It's always their fault you know?)
Maybe its merely the kids I fostered in 1990's who turned out great!
Maybe its my mummie dearest who after my father died decided she needed a new whipping person, me! Don't worry, I got away from that quarterback real fast.

Maybe it was to help the three husbands go from boys to men. Actually they are all dead and I didn't do it.

Or maybe just maybe I took the "hit" for a twin that died at birth and no one told me.
Like it or not, I get to live out a life so the big picture puzzle can be completed. Yay for me. Is that sounding like a martyr?  Nawh.
It's just fact.
Life is an intricate web, like semen and vagina's, birth and the human body, brain and souls, spirits of animals and humans alike blah blah blah.   It is what you DO NOT SEE.   It is physics.  It is an equation that is far beyond my earthly understanding.
Therefore if I have to endure the body going thru things I'd rather not deal with and or the mind having to go thru all those quarterbacks and shotgun blasts for what must be a darn good reason. I say BY GOD when I pass this world I better get to know what it was. 
YET....now having this revelation, I might be able to endure all of it in a better frame of mind.
I will be able to draw on the positives realizing the negatives exist no matter what.. 
I can chose to live on the positive side even though the negatives are out to kill my spirit and soul.

And knowing even if they do.....
There is one or more people I was born, to birth, that had to be.   I am a part of what had to be.
In the big picture.
I get it now.   Thanks Charles!  My pseudo name for my Heavenly Father God.  Or maybe that is my guides name.  Another tackle! I have already been chastised as being sacrilegious.  

Truth is I am happy.  I was just "Wondering!"

Hells Gate II.....................by Julianna Rowe

 Hell's Gate II....9-2-2021 

Hells Gate I is WalMart.  Hells Gate II is Woodman's Grocery Store where items cost a bit less because it is family owned versus Corporation of China owned. But that also indicates a certain class of people that we all have seen on the People of WalMart video.  That being said:

I had finished rubbing various body parts with the people of Hells Gate II, checked out, and asked for a drive up number to have my groceries loaded for me.  

I pulled up under the loading area and waited.  My SIRIUS XM shuts down every time I pull into that area which causes me a bit of impatience so I then go into auto pilot reaching for my phone to check what I just checked minutes ago.  Not sure what that means just know it means something that has a psychological description for sure. 

I dont usually openly talk to the guys loading my groceries because often they are "special" and I feel its best to just let them do their job and not interfere. 

The young blonde man came to the car and asked to see the cart number the checker writes on the receipt.  I showed him and instead of walking five feet to what I knew was my cart, he walked back into the store then back to my passenger side window.  I put my phone down long enough to speak.

"Sir, I know that is my cart."  He smiled kindly and responded. I could sense this young man was different. 

"Yes maam but your number says 5381 and the cart says 5382. He continued. We have people pull up with no number trying to take carts of groceries with no proof so I went back in to see if there was another cart with 5381.  There wasn't so I knew this one is yours."

He spoke so kindly. I could sense this young man was different. His spirit was so open. I asked him if people try to steal food very often and he said no but it happens more often than you might think.  Then he went on to talk about how he was glad it was getting cooler and he couldn't wait for it to get cold as in winter.  Rare to hear a young man say that.  He said things settle down around there when its winter.  The kids just hang out and gather in the parking lot instead of close to the building causing trouble. He added that he could think of a lot of other things to do besides hang out in a parking lot." He finished his little chat with these words. 

"They dont know how precious life is and how the time they are wasting could be gone in a day or a week. " 

The words just popped out of my mouth with no forethought.  I told him my good friend was dying from pancreatic cancer."

He then replied to my painful moment by telling me.

" My mom died in 2016 of cancer, then my dad passed away eleven months later from cancer as well.  Dad had been fighting it but got tired and quit."

I expressed my sympathy and asked if he had siblings.  He responded yes he had a lot of family.  He stopped for a few seconds and looked at me as I had turned as far around as I could during our conversing and said.

"I bet you think I am twenty-five right?  Well I am forty one."  

I laughed and told him my son is forty one.  

I wonder if he weren't an Angel in disguise?  He had a genuine, caring, and kind, spirit that glowed. It is rare to come upon such a person anymore especially at Hell's Gate I or II.  I drove away from the loading area with tears falling from my eyes because my spirit was so touched by a stranger's sincere ten minute visit.  I hope his life journey is as blessed as he blessed me today.  Sometimes words cant express ......and this is one of those times.  

Snowing Money .......by bored and busy Julianna Rowe

I pulled this draft from the hollows of my computer-ville. I am working on a novel and needed to post so I cheated and pulled out an old draft.  It isn't snowing here in WISCO.  But it will be so just enjoy the money snow story for today.  Thanks!

Here we go again. Snowing and snowing and snowing in Wisconsin. If snow were money I would drive in it better. I would love to see green roads with little faces all over them. I would love to hear the crunch of paper faces under my tires.... Stuck in my windshield wipers...... hanging off my shoes...... slipping and sliding on the masses of green paper and falling down only to lie there waiting for an ambulance to recover me from the pain of money slipping away. 

We better find a way to re- industrialize this country from COVID because MaMa don't do bread! I am allergic to bread so bread lines are out. 

Not to mention Dear God some housing morons stopped putting REAL fireplaces in homes so there ya go again...no heat if worse comes to worse. Who will pay for the gas fireplaces dum-rums? No bread, no heat. And having to use stinky candles to see.... they stink. Everyone thinks they have to smell like something other than being used to replace the sun when it goes down.

 

No TV? Oh boy....I might be able to live with that one. No Computer....cant do it, nope.....nor can I survive without salmon. I love salmon.

I suppose I could paint a face on my exercise ball and talk to it like Tom Hanks did on that deserted Island. My ball is bigger than yours Tom Hanks....

And what about a job? If the country collapses, what about a job? Nurses, car repair techs, soup servers, policemen, and grave diggers would all be good jobs to have during a depression... Come to think of it so would making booze....humm. (and no I am not under any influence at present even though it would read as though so) 

There's the infamous grainery at the old home farm (or used to be) where I kept all my life's treasures. Great place to makey boozie to get green faces so as not to have to eat bread and bloat up forever. 

OK so I am overworked and tired and couldn't think of a darn thing to write about. Can you tell? So I turned snow into money. Not bad actually. Money banks instead of snowbanks. Money-Man instead of Snowman. Frosty the Money-Man had a face like ole Abe Lincoln...with his greenback face blah blah blah. Hey, Money Plows! Skiing and snowboarding down money-hills. Snow is prettier depending on how you look at it. 

This "snow to money" is a bad idea because most people do not know how to save money and come Spring and Summer and Fall there would be NONE. It would all go away just like the snow does. Oye!

 So the country's financial situation better get ahold of itself because my idea sucks dirty canal water. In fact there is a delete button I should seriously be considering...right now before its too late. I owe you all a good one to make up for this one.