Goodbye to Oma by Diane Ogden

I met Oma three or four times now over the past eighteen months-two years.  She is the Mother of one of my clients.  My client is German, from Germany. His wife is Japanese from Japan. Both parents speak the language of their Mother country and have taught their child to also speak both languages.
The first time time I had met Oma, she had come to visit her son and his family and the Grandchild who was only 18 months old and did not know her Oma. (Grandma in German) So Oma bought the little one at least thirty presents and wrapped them all pretty as can be.  So each time the little one allowed Oma to change her or feed her or hold her, she gave the child a gift. Quite the sweet way to help the Grandchild remember and bond with her.  Must say it was pretty cute too.
The second time Oma came to Wisconsin it was summer and I worried she might have a heat stroke because she worked in their yard all day in the hot weather...The baby was getting to know her this visit.
The next time she came it was winter and she insisted upon walking to the grocery store in twenty five degree below zero weather...  I called her son at work because this time I was worried she would freeze, but he said, "Yes we know, but she wont listen...so we have to let her go."   She came back just fine a couple hours later. 
This time, it's Christmas, and her daughter in law is out of town on business, so Oma got to take care of her son, and his small daughter, like in the decades of Oma's past.  We chat when she is visiting, but I have to listen close as her German accent is very thick. Today we talked about my family background being from Mecklinburg Germany and the origin of Nicholaus. (Santa Claus) And today she told me she would be gone upon our next time at their home.  Something spurned me to take her hands in mine, vs shaking hands.  I did this.  And her response was something I will never forget in my lifetime.  I looked into her eyes and said "Merry Christmas and may you have a safe and protected journey home. It has been so nice to see you again."  She squeezed my hands gently and as she looked into my eyes, hers began to sparkle, twinkle, shine, something!!  It was a spiritual moment without any doubt.  I wondered if Oma was an Angel.  Because that is the closest I have ever come to seeing an Angel in someones eyes.  Oma isn't a beautiful woman in the eyes of the fleshly world, but to me, she is an Angel from Germany. Or maybe she is one of the few truly nice human beings in this world.

The Fake Focker's are having a Fake Baby Focker by Diane Ogden

That means God is in this baby deal all the way, humor humor humor, (me).  For the sake of the child, myself and the Mother of course..  I live alone, well I used to live alone.  Then one day my daughter decided to be like the Focker's and have a baby.  But I am an alone Mother Focker type...  and she is an alone Focker daughter type, who is now having a baby Focker alone child to bring home to the alone Focker home she already has moved into.  Get it?  We are the new set of Focker's, the other half of the Focker's, with no big house with men in it, or traveling bus house. Are we the poor Focker's? Oh shit! I just wish we were as  funny as the Focker's.  Then again, maybe we just are!  We have parents who live on a "Funny Farm," grand parents who are a bit nutty.  We have auntie's and uncies who are  off in la la land, we have cousins who do not visit thank God, but we have the good spirits! I have four real Focker son's  besides this fake Focker pregnant daughter.  If the real Daddy ever "comes" around again we will kill him and bury him and then call the FBI or DEA whichever drug he was using at the time, will give us our first clue what to do. Just like the old Focker Grandpa would have done in real life.  I am a lot like Barbra Streisand except for the singing voice and big boobalays...and $ and so on. My daughter is just like the Focker son...always getting into some sort of mess, this time a reality one for sure...  "Under the bus" kind of reality deal.  Hey, we just found out today its a  Focker girl!  Happiness Happiness.  And more Happiness.  Boy, Girl? Dog Cat? It's another mouth to feed and stroller to push. And there isn't a True Focker in site.  So F. (For Focker of course) Enjoy this Focker day and Focker Blog post!

OffSpring OffSpringed by Diane Ogden

I guess that's life huh?  Our offspring spring up very quickly and go off and get sprung. Well, you know what I mean.  This was a happy union gone wrong. Sort of like the Civil War actually.  The North got lucky, called it a win, then took off.  Sort of like a snake, or an alley cat who mates and runs.  Yup that is what he did. Never heard from him again. Of course I could elaborate....but not going to.  So she is on her own, or should I say on my own...my own time, money, emotions, house, car, and so on. I suppose we will make it fine.  Just sad to see her alone besides being so terribly sick she lost 25 pounds the first four months,  and when this is such a sharing time.  Wee ones are supposed to be created from love and I suppose this one was too...just that the love was short lived from a short hitter.  What do I know?  Just a good guess from an older wiser been there done that Mom and Grandmother.  Hoping for all good to come from the little nipper and from us to "it."  That would be right, we don't know the gender yet.  That comes in a week.  Something fun to look forward to.  Hoping for the very best and believing for it also.

Where Have All The Buttons Been? by Diane Ogden

Actually this is not my button collection, its Lindsey39 @ flickr.com.  In other words I am using her photo. Not that I don't have a button collection because I surely do.  A zillion of them to say the least.  I was exercising one of my therapy options yesterday and today, which means doing something simple, such as "paper or plastic?," separating buttons into baby food jars.  I had a little eye surgery so sitting is the thing to do for today.  As I was playing with the buttons my psychic mind wandered and started to receive from the buttons in the beyond.  That merely means I was sensing where some of my buttons had been.  Then of course as usual I took off on my own with no help from spiritual button guides. I journeyed to wars, and women's beautiful silk and satin blouses of the thirties, nineteen thirties that is, and to hunters out in the swamps, murderer's even you know me always gettin the imagination going.)  I thought about how many babies might have been conceived after "unbuttoning" some of my buttons.  Or maybe a President donated some shirts of which the buttons ended up in my meager living room being sorted never knowing being able to share their importance.  Hookers, Preachers, children, buttons from dead peoples clothing, Bankers, paupers, Kings and Queens, well I doubt that one.  Factory workers, car salesmen, fat people, short people, skinny, tall, and mean people.  Sweet people buttons, robbers buttons, little old ladies glass buttons, and probably a nurse and doctor buttons. Did a doctor save someone's life while dodding one of my buttons?  Betcha. Teenage mouthy kids buttons, and maybe even an old relative down the line buttons.  Someone probably gave the speech of their lives wearing my buttons.  A college student surely graduated wearing my buttons.  A child rode a horse for the first time, someone was given a surprise birthday party wearing my buttons.  Someone went to prison for doing something illegal while wearing my buttons too.  People went to church, grocery shopping, movies, to the bathroom, all on my button time.  God I wish those buttons could talk.  I guess they did.  Someones Grandmother made Thanksgiving Dinner and Christmas dinner with my buttons hanging on them... some may have traveled the Oregon Trail to find gold.  And some surely sang at the opera as well as visited it.  I hope I have a couple that lived in a sky scrapper in New York or Chicago, and a couple that flew to Europe and back.  I hope that none came from an old Teddy Bears eyes, or any from sad children's lives.  But then we are just like the buttons aren't we?  All mixed together, some shinier, some old and cracked, many different colors and shapes and sizes, and all with a different story....

THE BIRDS, THE BIRDS!!! by Diane Ogden

This is Thanksgiving Day! I headed out for Best Buy to find a new computer but it was closed, so I was turning around to go back out to the freeway, and I ended up at the back end of the West Town Mall which you can see was EMPTY of all human life forms, except mine. I had never seen the mall empty before. I noticed a flock of seagulls all grouped together so I pulled into the area to watch them.  This photo does not show the extent of the drama I experienced with THE BIRDS!  It was like they were waiting for me.  They all huddled around my car, some flying directly ahead of my windows.  I didn't feel any fear, even considering I am old enough to remember the movie, "The Birds," which was scary as all get out.  If I made any moves they would all start to fly around my car.  I wondered what the heck was going on.  After a while I decided to leave, but just before I did, another car pulled into the area and a middle aged Asian man gets out, with a large bucket in hand, and ALL the birds go flocking to him. It was pretty amazing to watch.  They knew him!  But they couldn't distinguish between he and I or between the two different cars.  I got to thinking about their brains and just what they could distinguish....  I don't know.  I just know they knew a car was coming with a human in it with food.  duh.. I have to say this was all   quite a refreshing site for me.  Thanksgiving Day and this man was offering up love and kindness for these birds.  For on this Thanksgiving Day there were no other humans in the parking lot as usual leaving any leftovers for these creatures who did not have any idea what a Pilgrim was and why there was no food this one particular day...   What a sweet man he must be! I know I am thankful for him. Those birds could have killed me just like in that movie.

Leaning Tower of Slat Racks, Rat Packs?

This is quite the site, isn't it?  I have experienced this site several times in Madison, Wisconsin.  And every time I experience it, my mind automatically suggests danger.  Ya think?  A slight wind, a slight miscalculation of the steering system, a sneeze, or God forbid another vehicle touches this ifel tower on the roadway...I could be toast along with others.  And would you take a look at the face in that side mirror?  I am SORRY to say I expected it to be a South of the border face, you know, down Mexico way?  But indeed no.  This was a true blue dumb ass Wisconsinite.  Even an Okie I could have accepted this behavior from.  Okie's don't be offended, it's merely from the jokes I have heard all my life and of course all the cars I have seen duct taped together in those parts, and of course my friend who pushes their old XR-7 in and out of the sun for the six large ferns they they store on its top!  Now you get it? This guy must be Norwegian. They push their houses to start their funaces. OK so that was a bad joke. My Dad told me that one years ago.
There must be money in carting around these slats stacked to the max.  Doesn't it remind you of the people, no not just the Chinese people, on bikes with mega huge bags of cans to return?  Same story, different cargo.  And as far as I could see there are only TWO straps on the sides holding this contraption together.  The only word I could think of while sitting BEHIND it was....irresponsible...then I thought of myself and the effect of all that wood on my hood.  Is that legal?  It can't be! I'm not dissin the guy for trying to make a living but come on....this is an act only a squirrel crossing an electrical wire over a main highway would know about. Both are equally dumb, or maybe equally smart, depending on how one looks at it.

I Don't Have Any Problems!

So I woke up this morning thinking the world itself and at least half its problems were on my head, shoulders, chest, hips, on down to my feet, not to mention my brain activity was less than desireable. Between and 1-10 I "were" sittin at a 2!  Of course I won/t go into the details, but there were many or so I thought.  I had run out of HEMP milk for my morning coffee, which makes all my bodily functions work each day, and now having said that.....lite us "Move" on.  I stopped at the local PDQ/KwikTrip/7-11/StopnGo and so on and so on... and I bought a cup of 1/2 decaf, 1/2 coffee to get myself going. Oh duh on the going thing. I meant to get myself more awake.  While choosing the size coffee cup I wanted to purchase a man walked past my rear side and as he did I smelled his aura or laggering cigarette smoke...He was then aside me purchasing a doughnut when his cell phone rang. He listened to the caller.  Then his words were slow, phlegmatic, and deep.  He said, "OK, yes, well we will just deal with it, it is all we can do."  He was about 43 years old, blonde hair below his ears, almost to his shoulders, a black leather jacket, jeans, and don't forget the aroma of cigarette smoke. I purchased my coffee and began to walk to my car when I saw a man leaving the store with a cup of joe and in his other hand a hot dog.  Yes it was too early for a hot dog.  He was an overweight man dressed impeccably... tie and all getting into a small sports car. (the perfect job, no one to fix him a decent breakfast, BUT, still appeared perfect until her bent over grabbing his tie as though something big needed to be fixed. And it did.  He has spilled his perfect coffee on his perfect tie.  I could "feel" his thoughts.  Should I go back home and get a new tie?  Or try to get thru it and drive on to the perfect job in the perfect car with the perfect stained tie?  Then I see the previous fellow coming out the store doors with his coffee in hand while trying to dial up his wife? girlfriend? Mother? with great and deep concern on his face.  My spirit could sense and feel his pain.  Maybe because he looked like my son, the son in prison.  Yet for whatever reason he touched my spirit. Deeply so.  I also noticed his vehicle was an older truck with brush in the back.   He is a low level worker.  He is our middle class.  He is  a survivor.  Do recall I overheard him saying to uplift his other half...'We will deal...we have no choice."  And so he will... Dammit.  Bless it. Both!  It sure took me away from myself.  I happened to notice I wasn't the only one with a problem or ten. Amen