Back to Gradeschool at Barnes and Noble

I stopped at Barnes and Noble bookstore the other day and came home with four wonderful books. One offers information regarding the tendencies my life will take from the day I was born. Another tells how to have a clean body using lemon juice, vinegar, salt, and so on. My favorite one is called "A Lifetime Burning" by Richard Quinney, about a family and the many "things" they acquired on the inside and outside, during one generation. Then to the checkout before I purchased Divas! And a couple other wonderful books. The line is long! I exercise my manners as I stand "in waiting." I am next but nothing is happening. Time passes...nothing is happening. I see one of several checkouts open so I turn to the woman behind me for strength and reassurance as to whether to proceed. She says, go! So I did! I cautiously walked the fifteen feet in slow motion with absolutely no confidence that what I was doing was alright. As I reflect on it now it is weird what happened. So I get to the open checkout and the lady looks at me, wavingly points her finger toward the line and says, "I will call on you when we am ready." Let me say I scampered right on back in line as the ten people looked on watching my second grade insecurities pop out all over the place. And the lady that urged me to walk on out there on my own had a look on her face I wish I could relay to you. She mouthed to me, "SORRY!" and then covered her mouth with her hand and made her eyes into big eeewwwws. I quietly stood there until called upon. That hasn't happened to me in many decades but it happened two days ago. Since then I have grown back up and consider myself over it all better now.

I Bit My Tongue....

And I don't mean I bit my tongue so I wouldn't speak anything that shouldn't be spoken. I really bit my tongue. Have you ever bit your tongue? I know this isn't up there with John Edwards sex tape or the national and world news but it's up there. I was driving from one client to another eating my turkey, ham, cheese, mayo, and mustard sandwich along with some Kosher Dill pickle with each bite! Yes I can drive and do that. What was tougher to do was to accidentally bite my tongue to the degree I considered (my mind considered, I didn't) passing out. I saw my life pass before me in 3-D IMAX, rushing, pouring, devouring, all the while (15 seconds) trying not to realize there was a red substance from the tongue mixing with the ham, turkey, cheese, mustard and pickle. Not to mention the pain. P A I N! The kind of pain that brings you to your knees, then the ground, then the lites out type pain. Now I take pain well, so know this was a dandy bite, not a Twilight Bite! Back to the real bite.....Rather than faint out, I stared at the road ahead with a gaze of intentional decision not to die from this pain, or bring harm to any other human being. I held my own for what seemed like infinity, well an hour anyway. Truth be told...The seconds passed, then a minute, then another. Going, going, gone? No I didn't die.... I, the pain, just became withstandable. That was worse than coffee burn the tongue, burn the throat, burn the esophagus going down! Yes worse. I am totally proud of myself for maintaining control of the vehicle...no one got killed.....I didn't see the big light. You know, God. No mid death experience of my Gramma Tillie in the rear view mirror, or Uncle Albert sittin next to me coaxing me either way, you know, up or down! Nope, none of that....so I am healing in the natural world with salt water mouth washes and meanwhile able to eat, but no catsup or hot sauce. The only diet that is acceptable is chocolate, Scotch, wedding cake, and more chocolate ....its soooo healing. Ever know anyone that kidded themselves? Me either. That picture is not me. Really.

Netflix

I guess I am just going to have to "break down", no no on the break down talk, rather I shall say, "come up to" joining the little red envelope comin and goin from my mailbox called Netflix. I just called them to ask some questions considering how I have been tricked twice lately by online crooks. I was happy to find out I can download as many movies as I want or have time for, for $8.99 a month. Heck I had to drive to the store, get out, lock my car, walk around looking at several thousand movie jackets, choosing, paying, back to car, unlock, drive home, watch movies and MAKE sure I drive back to the store, on time so I don't have to pay twice, then park, get out, lock the car, walk to the store, put the movies in the correct return slot, back to car, unlock, get in, drive home, park car, get out, lock it....up stairs....home. Now that's allot and I'm tired from even typing it to explain it. Which also solidifies my decision to order Netflix!!

Lucy

This is sweet Lucy...... She is about three years old now. She found me one day at the old farmette as I was looking for some things I had packed away and decided I couldn't live without. I'm sure there was some spiritual influence going on that pulled me there that day. I was standing by the shed talking to my Dad when she came running out of the field and wrapped herself around my legs in a figure eight over and over crying the entire time. A cry that was unmistakably beckoning someone to help her. She was emaciated. Dad said the other cats were unkind to her so she stayed up behind the shed all alone in the weeds. I found an old orange milk crate, put her in it on a towel, put a dirty old piece of plywood over the top and away we went for home. I gave her a huge piece of meat that she devoured. She never cried again all the way home. But she ate and ate and ate the rest of the day. We went to the vet who said she would be fine...that her ear had been clipped meaning she was a Ferrel. We suspected she was spade and left out in the country to fend for herself which did not happen well. After two days she pooped a log the size of Texas from all the overeating she had done. We did have quite the laugh over that one....
Lucy has been near me but not too close all these years. She will get into my lap now, for a few minutes is all. She sits on my computer desk, and just recently she sleeps in bed with Gracie and I. That is happiness. She has anxiety issues from whatever dreadful thing happened to her before she found me that cold day on the farm. I am very thankful that I have the ability/gift to hear from the spirit... although sometimes I hear from the bad spirit. One doesn't get the gift of only hearing from the good spirits. One, like me has to learn whose the good and whose the bad. Cant say that's been an easy road and cant say I didn't fall into several pits on my long life's journey.... its the good spirit that keeps me going. Finding Lucy's and Gracie's and whatever else might wonder onto my road. And God let them be of the good spirits only, for I believe I have met my life quota on the other kind. Thanks.

Sometimes it Really is the Little Things.......

Sometimes it really is the little things that count. That are most important. That touch our hearts at no monetary cost. Our hearts don't care about green paper money. Our brains seem to run that pavement down to dirt and then make a u-ey directly back to our hearts and try to run it/them down too. Imagine how strong the heart is to put up with all our brains do to it....not to mention our nerves, blood vessels, blood pressure, and on and on. I suspect when something good happens it just might heal the heart of the previous harassment it was subjected to on said negative train ride directly thru the center of it like Cupid's adversary shooting its dart....then the good comes as it always does like Spring after Winter. Like today my niece telling me, "I love you Aunt Diane." And like the client that gave me this little plug in Angel that hovers over my counter while I make my little four cups of coffee and my lunch every morning... and at night when I take my vitamins she sparkles like perfect magic fairy dust just for me. The two of us alone in the dark healing my heart....

Grand-Daddy's Dog Tags

I think Grand- Daddy should stand for the best! I think my Grandad had a good heart for the most part. But not really the best. He seemed to have a selfish mean streak about him...as well as a "my way or the highway" bit going on. I suppose that isn't so unusual for men of those days. He left my Grandmother and her five children to seek his fortune in another land called Texas. She ended up living in a chicken coop and an old box car heating bricks to stay warm... He found his fortune after many years, as well as another woman who turned out to be quite a prize for all of us. We called her Nana. She brought him back together with my Grandmother and his children. He was good to them monetarily but then his ole controlling deal stuck its ugly red horned head back out. He talked two of his daughters into "giving" or "loaning" their children to him saying he could raise them better considering his fortune. Well his fortune became their and everyone else's mis-fortune as one committed suicide and the other left everyone behind never to speak to family again for leaving him with such a tyrant as Grand-Father. Grand? When Grand-Father died and everyone met at his home after the funeral....my Nana's niece whom he didn't care for to put it mildly, offered a toast to him. As she stood there holding her glass up with at least and twenty people watching .....her glass "Shattered" right in her hand and no fat lady was singing a high pitch note neither nor!! That was him....had to have the last word even in death. So what's my point? Today I was going thru some old jewelry and what not's that I save for who knows what and I came upon his Army dog tags and his sun glasses he wore everywhere.....for years. I decided to clean them up and as doing so I noticed the ick on the nose pieces....yup old skin... so I took a knife and gently scraped the old "DEAD" (twilight zone music please) skin off the nose pieces. Believe me when I say I felt something strange. Like hello that is my Grandfathers skin falling into my stainless steel sink. And he died in the 1980's. I attempted and did maintain my composure during the exfoliation process and then sprayed everything with anti bacterial spray. I have to say that it just was a "funny" feeling going on. Shouldn't be...he'd dead, the skins dead.....no biggy. (Twilight zone music once again thank you!) I hope if one of my Grand-daughters (so far no boys) finds a pair of my glasses and a piece of my jewelry someday when I am passed out...(means dead and moved on) they can remember good things. That my heart was loving and I wasn't selfish, mean, or angry. The rich part will be OK to remember as soon as that happens. Maybe I should wear his glasses for a year of so....bring on the dough. But what if they bring on the mean selfish part? Oooh, maybe I will just put them back to bed in the jewel box where "all good things" are saved for something someday.... the end. p.s. He told me he rode with Ponco Via! Ya think?

Grand-daddy