Used To Be??

I would like, no, I would love my lips to be plump and have a line around them like they used to...
I would like, no, I would love my breasts to be plump and stand up similar to the way they used to.....
I would like, no, I would love the little blue veins in my legs to go back inside and hide like they used to....
I would like, no, I would love the knobs on each finger to melt back into silent hard bones like they used to....
I would like, no, I would love my eyes to stop looking like my Grandma's and be like they used to....
I would like, no, I would love my face to lift and stretch its skin back up to the Lord like it used to....
I would like, no, I would love for my hair to be thick, curly, and sensual, like it used to .....
I would like, no, I would love the skin on my arms and legs to reach to the sky like they used to.....
I would like, no, I LOVE the gravity that has taken on the outside who I used to be.....
I would like, no, I would love the hard skin on my feet to soften and wrap themselves around someone they love.....like they used to.....
I would like, no, I would love my mid section tree trunk appearance to measure something like it used to.....
I would like, no, I LOVE my mind and the fact it is not like it used to be!!  The rest has been paid for...
I would never go back to the way it used to be. I know who I am under it all.

 Better check the camera settings and get them back to the way they used to be.....  Brighter!!

Cancer Fight

I am a Christian.. I am a believer.  I am a person who respects others beliefs.  That being said...
I got to thinking:

The Amish do not use any new age developments. No electricity, no gas powered plows etc. 
The Watusi and Tutsi among other uncontacted tribes of the various jungles of the world know there is a spirit but they don't know his or its name or origin. NO one relates to the tribes that if they don't believe in the Jesus and that he was born of spirit that they will burn in some hell beneath the earth. 
The Ba Hai' just believe in being good. BUT...Established by Bahá'u'lláh in 1863, it initially grew in Iran and parts of the Middle East. You know Iran, the folks that want to missile America and kill us all!
The Belly guy, you know, Buddha!  Those folks do everything the Bible says to do not realizing it. Meanwhile believing if they rub the Belly of the plastic Buddha they will have luck.
And then there are the Catholics who are known for their mercy, the Lutherans, known for their ?? They live by the teachings of ONE MAN, Martin Luther and his interpretations. Then they re write the Bible under the DICTATORSHIP of King James.  UFDA!
The Baptists who don't like dancing...and practice their main belief which is Baptism. A person must proclaim his belief in Christ by being submerged in water.

Methodists are convinced that building loving relationships with others through social service works towards the inclusiveness of God's love. Most Methodists teach that Christ died for all of humanity, not just for a limited group, and thus everyone is entitled to God's grace and protection. In theology, this view denies that God has pre-ordained an elect number of people to eternal bliss while others are doomed to hell no matter what they do in life.

(So far the Methodists have my vote! I was raised Lutheran, also played in the Pentecostal arena, Lived in the south were Baptists rule and Pentecostals  )

The Pentecostal believe God is in them and they have the power to heal just as God did when he was on earth.  I might try this one.

The Chinese kill their people for believing in Fung Sway.  Which is no more than balancing good and bad energy.  Any and all GOOD is GOOD energy no matter where it derives from.

 

There are wars that kill fought over these beliefs.  Is that good energy?  Notsomuch.  There are people who believe they have the power within them saying God gave it to them. They are to use it to heal.

So what is all the ta-doo about Religions here?

I found out I have cancer in my body. 

Soo....  Beside getting the traditional chemical treatments and surgeries.....Do I leave my home and all its comforts including electricity....go live with the Amish who are very good business people but not so good at taking their loved ones to the hospital for care and they don't have phones or TV.  Do I simply be super kind to everyone like the Ba Hai.  Should I buy a plastic Buddha or an ivory one and rub its belly morning noon and night for healing.  Should I call the Catholic priest for an exorcism of the bad cancer demon from my body.  Should I Promise the Baptist God I will never dance again and have someone dunk me in the local dirty lake to be cleansed and prove I believe. Should I speak in tongues of goobly goo hoping/believing the spirits and Angels of the Universe can understand my language and God that resides in me will remove the issue from my body??  Or should I do what the Watusi of the jungle do.... who have never known civilization, nor have they  met a Buddhist, a Methodist, a Lutheran, Catholic, Islamic Muslim, or an Amish. (Can you just picture that on in an 8 x 10 black and white glossy? An Amish and a Watusi?) I'm betting on ....the jungle people only know what is in their spirit ??  They have no human corporate interference.  Only the energy they feel inside themselves from the Spirit of the Universe. 

That is my answer.....  not that  I will gather my long walking stick, build a fire outside my apartment, wear very little clothing while dancing around like I was on an island inhabited by Watusi. Humming as I Meditate and wait.

Probably a better idea is to sit quietly inside and Meditate only from within and listen from beyond.

Fiction!!

Most all my blog stories are FICTION!  Based on some mi-nute reality.  I enjoy the vivid imagination I was blessed with. Although sometimes it goes too far.... Or maybe not far enough? Possibly the novel hasn't been written that will far surpass all the rest of these silly blogs since 2007.  I do have the dreaded cancer...My friend told me her favorite 's are Sparkly Pink things and the word Fuck.  She has cancer also.  And now I understand.

PORTAL to ANOTHER DIMENSION: by Julianna Rowe

PORTAL to Another Dimension: 

I could feel and see everything that was happening to me through the portal. It was a tiny yet vast canyon in another dimension. Another time?  Which was I in?  I wondered/pondered as I bent over to pick up something that resembled a telescope. It appeared to be an antique brass cylinder like in the old pirate movies.

“Awr’ land ahoy!”  The rugged filthy yet virile bearded man said as he peered thru the long thin brass object appearing to magnify his destination. 

Was I magnifying through imagination my own destination?  I reluctantly picked up the instrument, put it to my eye and scanned the canyon through the nearly invisible portal in my bedroom wall.  I saw land, mountains, craters, and an ocean. All in miniature scale.  As I scanned this new world through the tiny round amplifying lens I caught a glimpse of three tiny figures.  I turned the cylinder to heighten the magnification and clearly saw a woman.  And walking with her as though lost were two animals. One oddly appeared to be a living breathing large shaggy blue stuffed animal.  I stopped all mental and physical movement afraid to look away or remove myself from the portal for fear of losing it forever. Yet was I dreaming? I continued although with subjective confusion to follow the odd threesome as though I were their portal police. Who were they? Where were they?  Did they need help? And then, suddenly and with a force unknown to me I was pulled through the small opening to the other side in a millisecond. Faster than an airbag and with the velocity of a jet engine. I suspect birth is easier although looking back it did leave me breathless as well as weightless. The weightless part was the only factor I enjoyed. When I reached the end of the portal there was a swoosh as I entered a new world through a second opening and I was free flying. I wondered should I put my arms out like Superman? Actually I did nothing. No thoughts or emotions were present. I simply was.

 

I had asked for it.  Had done what I always do.  Gotten myself in too deep trying to help others.  It has always been my downfall not to mention the portion of my brain still maintaining rationality wondered if I would or could ever get back. What or who would call me back with the intent I do others. That to me would be the only way of returning through the porthole to the safety of my earthly bedroom. Much less my earthly life.

Regardless, there I was actually flying or rather soaring. It brought back a memory of the boy flying on his shaggy dog in “The Never Ending Story.” Maybe that is who the blue dog was I saw with the woman through the pirate’s nautical spyglass. And then another memory came into view.

I was a small child riding in a car at a time when seatbelts were not required. I would scoot up and rest my head on the back of my father’s driver’s seat near his big safe shoulder usually donned in a soft plaid flannel shirt  and watch the road dreaming of someday driving like he did. On occasion there would be a mountain ahead.  (In reality a child’s mind pictures a small hill to be a mountain.)  I would watch intently as my father drove us up, straight up, where the road met the sky, nothing beyond. The end.  I was sure we would fall off the edge of the road and go down, down, down to our deaths. And then another memory came toward me like a swirling column of air.  Inside the whirlwind was an ocean. I don’t like water; in fact I am very frightened of it.   And then as before I saw my father driving us near the water’s edge purposefully driving off the road and hitting the gravel  to tantalize me, making me think we might drive into the water and die. Actually it was torturing. Why would he do that? I could feel where the fear began in my life as I soared above it able to read the visual beneath me. What my father did wasn’t a good thing. I suspect he will have a portal of his own to deal with someday.

And then…. I descended slowly onto real land. Everything was blurry ahead and all around me. I had nowhere to go so I took a leap of faith and stepped forward only to see clearly a long very tall glass wall I was unable to penetrate. And then I saw her on the other side. I was on the inside of a building and she was on the outside. A door appeared but it would not open.  I could not get out and she could not get in. What would happen if I could let her in?  She was me standing there with her stuffed shaggy blue dog and another small animal I didn’t recognize.  There was no way out.  On earth I would have had FEAR.  Wikipedia says: Fear is a feeling induced by perceived danger or threat that occurs in certain types of organisms, which causes a change in metabolic and organ functions and ultimately a change in behavior, such as fleeing, hiding, or freezing from perceived traumatic events. But here through the portal I had no fear.  I saw prisons, offices full of strange people with all sorts of worriment. I passed over large bodies of water confident in myself to be safe. Mountain roads dropping thousands of feet should one get too close to the edge. People shouting at one another from their vehicles. People dying. People angry with me.  Yet I withstood every insecurity and mental probability of my own fear of confrontations, of dying a water death, falling off a mountain road, and I passed the tests.  The Blue Shaggy dog probably helped some.  Interesting my dream allowed me the security of a living stuffed animal.

I had taken myself to this place to learn how to escape my earthly situation and bring myself back to reality to face life once again.  The Universe took me to places I needed to re-experience so as to be able to live in peace on earth without continued fear.  

There are other portals…..good ones and bad ones.  Given enough mental off balance they will open up and swallow you like the whale swallowed up Jonah. They will steal your life.  Balance yourself to avoid  portals of unearthly dimensions.  It’s all around you. Blurry until you remove the blinders and see the truth.  Just like the glass wall in my portal.  The woman on the other side was me of course.  Now she is free.  Free indeed.

Who Returns Toilet Paper?

Who returns toilet paper and WHY?  No really I saw it with my own eyes.  At Menard's USA. 
Maybe someone was allergic to Charmin?
Maybe someone's "bum" broke out in a rash?
Maybe Charmin plugged up their septic tank?
Maybe they needed money for food?
Maybe it was dirty?
Husband picked up the WRONG brand?
I tell you I saw it!  And I think the man whose wife sent him back there was pretty embarrassed. Or maybe not.

I was standing next to a young man in the return line when...I whispered, "I have never seen anyone return toilet paper!"
He said, "I was thinking the same thing."  Then we giggled like children in church. 
I resized this photo to protect the identity of this person.  I do not make it a habit of making fun of others.  But this was unusual.  Right? I tell  you I saw it with  my own eyes.... Not really one of the world's seven wonders or even close I know I know. 
Be Safe, Be Well, Be Happy.....

Merry Christmas from the Past by Diane Ogden

Merry Christmas from the Past by Diane Ogden

Black and White and check out that tinsel.  My brother and I wanted to "THROW" it onto the special green tree personally cut by father...but let me tell you that was not any where near acceptable. Each tiny strand of glistening silver had to be expertly hung only on the farthest extended branches as to lay properly with no kinks whatsoever.  Wouldn't life be grand without any kinks?   Believe me we had the kinks in our family..... In this black and white sit my brother and I, Nana and Grandad.  They had ample amounts of money and we did  not. As you can see by the cheap perms am displaying.  Dad would cut down a tree from the REAL WOODS out back of our house, then saw the base, drill holes in the trunk of the tree and insert extra branches where necessary for fullness.  Ever heard of that now days? Nope!  Now its off to the corner for the perfect-est tree which costs minimum of $75 plus.  Mother would pop the popcorn and bring in the huge bowl of little red berries to be strung on heavy string for the tree.  My brother and I got to use a needle and thread for this treat we were not always happy about.  We favored cutting out colored paper strips and gluing the circles one end to the other, inserting each strip into the next making a long paper chain of many colores for more tree foo foo.  Ooh how could I forget the ham metal squigglies.  In the olden days canned Ham came with a "key" to open it.  You hooked the key onto the tiny aluminum tab and twisted backwards all the way around the can.  If you miscalculated your screw and slipped, well, mis-perfection wasn't so cool in our household.  A n y w a y...after the can is opened you hold the key and pull down the section you wound out to create a long spiral shiny ornament!  They were rather sharp so we had to be very careful. After all it was aluminum. Mother made homemade gingerbread men. We tied ribbons thru a hole she made with a terrifying ice pic, and hung the little people on the tree.  Candy canes present also.  There was always a bowl of "ribbon candy" sitting on the coffee table.  And some of the tiny sugar candies, peppermints, green mints, yellow ones.  They would crunch quickly between your teeth because they were so little.  Mother would bake home-made yeast breads filled with cinnamon and all sorts of other fancy cookies.  Dad would go out back of the house on Christmas Eve and change into his Santa suit in the chicken coup, then we would suddenly hear bells and know Santa was outside.  He would come to the door and Mother would let him in so he could sit in the big chair and talk to us. We would tell him what we wanted for Christmas and he would do the Ho-Ho-Ho then he would leave, but only after asking us to leave him some cookies and milk and his reindeer some carrots. My God we really bought it!!  To this day I swear I saw him ride out of site in his sleigh with eight tiny reindeer far into the night with a full moon for me to view him ahead of the huge night clouds far above the rooftops.  Indeed Christmas was always a fun time with good memories for me.  Even though the family had and has "kinks."

I Bought a Costanza Rota from Italy!

      Isn't she a beauty? I danced around the purse rack like a woman flirting for some man's attention. My God you'd of thought I was a kid again.  I picked it up, put it back, picked it up, put it back.  Sort of like when your dating a guy who seems so wonderful you melt, then he sticks red flags up your nose and you run away. Then he pulls you back in and so on.  Yup that is the game I was playing at he Marshall's Store at GreenWay Station yesterday.  The price tag was singing a scary song to my brain that this time was truly attached to my pocketbook. No denial! The tag price was $495.00.  My price was $125.00.  That meant I saved $370.00!  Who could say no to that deal? Not me.  It was my new saddle and I could smell her leather five feet away. You see, the woman I am is a lot of shiny mixed with a lot of Western.  I never know whether to buy the full Buffalo rug or the crystal chandelier so I do both.  I am a mish mash of Shabby Chic and a has been wannabe barrel racer at heart. 
       I had no intention of purchasing a new purse.  I have several. A red one, a mint green leather, a peach leather, a fur one that needs to be groomed before I leave the house, a black, a plain tan, a multi black red white and grey beauty, A Coach, and more.  But this one  called  me home to Texas.  It smelled like my Granddaddy's saddle and it looked like it too.  I may have been imagining some of that part, but it did have my name all over it.  Not to mention Pink is my favorite color.  I bought a coat the same color mauve/pink as on that over the shoulder saddle.  It's darn near as heavy as a saddle.  I almost took it to bed with me for safe keeping but there wasn't room.

       Going to a wedding reception soon.  My Costanza leather bag does not match the long black cape with mink tails I had planned on wearing. Yes I bought the mink thing it  before people started throwing cat-sup on other human beings who wore animal fur.  If it helps, my new mauve/pink coat has a special label saying it does not use duck feathers!! We use no duck feathers in the making of this coat.  We use Perel. Whatever that is.

       I just realized I was flirting with a dead cow on that purse rack!! And now I am feeling bad.  So far I have discussed buying a Buffalo Rug,  as well as I feel like I murdered the cow myself for that purse, and I have six mink tails hanging off my body, and I am bragging about my coat being duck feather free.  OMG!  Obviously I am not racist.  Nor am I  vegan.  These days everyone seems to have to have a label anymore. Evidently I don't know if I am a foot or on horseback!

        I prefer simpler.......Me, I like sparkly things and the word _____!