PART I

                     

               ABANDONED

To forsake as a hopeless enterprise:   To dessert:

                                                          

Abandonment is cold as the icy winds of the tallest mountain, 

and as lonely and frightening as the descent among a storm.

A child that is abandoned at birth……or before

A wife that gives her all only to be left with nothing

A family pet left at the shelter they call humane…….

A man thirty years doing his job…fired……

A country devastated by terrorists…..no help in sight

A Mother praying for her child’s life……no answer

A lie….lived out many generations ……   CRESTVIEW

"The Edge of Crestview....." A Novel and property of Julianna Rowe

I will be sharing daily or every few days another chapter of my new novel:  

THE EDGE OF CRESTVIEW

     by Julianna Rowe

Written:  May 11, 2000

Rewritten  October 7, 2017  and again 2019 

                                                                                                                                                      Introduction:                                                                                                                                                                Crestview was a beautiful mansion with a back yard that cascaded down the slope of a mountain outside Los Angeles, California.  Heavy bricks acted and appeared like huge ladders as they braced the home from sliding down the hundreds foot slope.

Within its walls lived the high fashion well to do lives of people searching for the same goals and holding the same demons they passed onto me.  That invisible cloud of cells would lead me through many difficult times before I understood “their” impossible dreams had not come to fruition therefore had latched onto me, the weak child.  And when I eventually did I was able to let go of the anger, fear, and pain.  I  replaced it with pity for the very people who had haunted me with "their" delusive dreams.  Who hid their atrocious backgrounds and behavior behind the pretty walls of Crestview.   They, being the only touchable and untouchable force to put any blame on.  Yet the lie within its walls would live on even after the death of it and its people.  The force then moved on to another, then another.  The Spirit of Crestview would only die through time and the wisdom or its origin.... and of course having the willingness to learn.  My spirit led me through the pain and into the truth but not for many decades.  I found the anger, strife and horrors inside Crestview's walls evil as well as the money that covered up its sins.

It is written, "The truth shall set you free."   But before that could happen I allowed my life to be controlled and manipulated between the victim role and the rebellion it birthed in me.  Rolling back and forth from submissive and compliant to noncompliant which is simply the root of rejection.  This verbal equation would be the constant of my life for at least forty eight years.  I was taught in the midst of my trials; "When the curses are gone the blessings will flow."  I couldn't find my curses as evident as they were.  They had become a way of life.  My eyes were blinded to what they saw.  For many times vanity obscured my sight, blinding my own existence and or expectation of life.  I drew in what I was.  I attracted similar spirits and blew with the wind never being in touch with my inner person.  I was in need of balance.  The pendulum would sway and cause a wild ride of life for many years until I came to understand the victim of the Crestview generations within the swirls of my mind.  I no longer needed to rebel, yet before the wisdom came, the storms were severe.  As time moved more swiftly than I realized I began to  hear the soft inner voice of God or the Spirit.  I had a line of emotional thunderstorms that would swell up and hold their own, drowning out the wisdom from that true inner voice.  The part of me that was still somewhat detached from the rest of me was growing up, yet independent and waring with my authentic self.  That part attached to others for security and a sense of love, even though a twisted sense.  I was no longer a child, crying over everything and demanding, but rather of the teenage mentality "fairy tale princess" with no castle, fickle, and looking for an external domain rather than to my own internal spirit.  Emotions wanted to lead. And the fear of abandonment held steady its ground. When I was a little girl I'd talk to myself within myself.  I would figure things out, calm myself down, comfort myself like I was my only best friend.  That voice of comfort was my emotional voice which took over my life.  It became very hard to distinguish the real inner voice from the emotional voice because the later was always looking for an answer elsewhere.  It took many years for the emotions to catch up with the mind and join the spirit as one.  But, realize from the ugliness of the generations of pain  handed down mentally to me on a silver mental platter, came the real beauty.  When this takes place, there is no limit to what we can do with our lives.  I am proud I can now hear from the inner spirit allowing me the opportunity to relay this wild ride in the form of a novel. 

She, Me, Feels Happy Around PINK.......................property of Julianna Rowe

She, Me, Feels Happy Around Pink!

         I have a delightful attachment to PINK!  Almost abnormal some might think. See that rhymes with PINK. My life revolves around association.  If I hear a certain word I start singing the song it reminds me of.  Meaning:  I associate PINK with Love, Caring, Happiness, and All is well.  In fact my license plate says it. ALSWELL.  I tried to spray paint it PINK but that didn't go over so well.

          I still have it in 2019. Price keeps going up for this sweet tag but so does everything else.  I say there is also a price for living.  "Taint" always an easy road for most.  Me, I never felt truly loved as a child therefore I operated on what I was told.  I had to learn I was not on this earth to suffer. That I was and am a good person. But I suffered until I found PINK!  May sound silly but PINK makes me happy. And if allowed..... I could turn into one of those grannies that fill their yards with PINK Flamingo's.  Oh yes....!!  Although I have no PINK Flamingo's.  They are pepto bismol pink.  Not my style.
        
          If I were younger I would have pale PINK hair.  Yes I would.  This is from Pinterest jillweith.

And if I were younger I would have a pair of PINK boots and drive a HUGE PINK Cadillac. 

From my ebook: "The Cardboard Box Part I."

https://www.blurb.com/ebooks/533623-the-cardboard-box-part-1
 Available for Amazon Kindle Fire®, Apple iPad®, Android devices, and Mac or PC computers

Imagine a road trip in that old Cadi!! Imagine a road trip in that old Cadi!!
(Without the boots and hair this time around) You can read about my half fiction travels above.

PINK is soft, gentle, like velvet words, like love should be. A delicate romantic kiss, comfortable like love from a hug. 

         White is pure.  PINK isn't pure its rather more fun.  My Angels are pure.  They are working on me.

             I learned not to give my PINK power away like I used to.  I wanted to make everyone happy so no one's "feathers" got ruffled.  Well ruffle away anymore.  PINK is kindness and strength to me. It may sound silly but if you surround yourself with what PINK represents to me ALSWELL.  Yours  might be the ocean, or fishing.  I love to create.  Somehow PINK gives me freedom in all areas.  Obviously!  Who do you know that would actually drive a PINK 

Cadillac across country on a girls road trip. 

      I am no longer a girl.  In fact way no longer. But my spirit sparkles. It loves people, animals, my Angels....of course God, and PINK!!

The Gazing Ball....... property of Julianna Rowe

I bought a mirror ball yesterday..... the party ones?  I have always wanted one that rotated mechanically, you know battery operated and such.  Most folks buy them for parties but me....  I wanted one for fun and relaxation.  I did wonder if "it" would make me dizzy and where would I put it?  In my bedroom? Who wants to be dizzy before sleep time?  Not me for sure and I do not have parties at this time in my life. Maybe I should.

I do have a shabby chic porch so I decided to put it out there.  Humm. I noticed a funny sound when I hooked the ceiling link up to it...  That is when I realized the interior of the ball consisted of styrofoam!!  Oh dear.  I suspected the little mirrors were GLUED to the styrofoam ball meaning it may not withstand the out of doors porch idea. 

Hey, I got it on one of those for sale sites at $7.  I cant complain no matter what.  Not that I will be rockin and rollin on the porch or in the bedroom like in the old days. Nope.  Actually the best thing that will happen is my cat Lucy will chase the dots around the room.  The sun hits it from the west meaning I do not have to purchase a motion light for it.  I merely have to move it when it rains, along with the fancy victorian pillows etc. on my Shabby Porch. I don't mind, it's worth it. 

Not to mention the dancing ball reminds me of the good old days at Hancock Center in Austin Texas where I got my first kiss.  The Teen Center in Stoughton Mandt Park where we danced and stayed out of trouble for the most part.  The Beatles and Elvis.  Weird Ed Sullivan.  You all have your Weird Al Yankovic!  Not sure I spelled that right but suspect you get it. 

Funny how we want something for years and then when we finally get it we don't know what to do with it... OR we have it and cant get rid of it!  My forever wanted Mirror Ball is hanging outside on my Shabby Chic Porch rotating while my old cat Lucy chases the lighted (dots) around the living room as it shines through the large reflecting glass windows.  Me....it is relaxing just knowing I finally got one. Something so small and insignificant. Probably many other things on my bucket list are equally as small and unimportant. When I die it wont rotate in the hereafter with me...... or will it? 

Its dark now and very peaceful: 

The Little Black Fairy with the Little White Prince.....................by Julianna Rowe

Today was one of those difficult life days for me.  I HAD cancer and part of my lung removed making it difficult to breathe.  I was angry most of the day.  I stopped and purchased a geranium for my Shabby Porch but that didn't seem to curb the anger.  I was standing outside on my Shabby Porch when my attention was elevated from myself to a scene down and across the street from my Rockwell Corner Porch.  There she was.  A tiny little fairy like person flitting around like a butterfly and happy as a free soaring bird dressed in white like an Angel.  I was in awe standing at calm attention noticing how I should be like her.  Childlike in my faith. She was searching gently for something special in the earth's green grass.  I wondered?  Was it a four leaf clover she so yearned to find.  Was it the teeny tiny insignificant white flowers that most try to kill in their yards? Whatever it was she was thrilled to find it and give it to someone she loved.

I felt embarrassed at my anger and disgust at life.   I wasn't ashamed because I had a right to feel awful about not being able to breathe like I have always been able to....for seven decades.  So why cant I now?  No one knows.....

But there she was showing me frivalty.  No matter what ......I still have the ability to write, sing, talk, and love.  That little black girl and her little white prince friend where moving in life with such ease.  I wanted to put a white dress on and frolic in the fields of yellow flowers like a child.  But I am not a child.  I am an old woman now.....with the mind of a younger woman and the spirit of a free little black girl playing with a little white boy not knowing that could and might/will be an issue someday.  Picking flowers and giving them as a gift of love to the lady overseeing them this day.

Love comes in many gifts.  A child of two will give a rock to their parent when they are picked up from day care.  Its all they have. A macaroni necklace from a preschooler.  A welded ring from art class in Jr. High....  An award for good citizenship in High School.  A flower picked on the way to a walking date in College.  An engagement ring as a forever sign of love in marriage.  A wheelchair pushed by a mate in a park.  A tear shed for that lifelong mate at their funeral or celebration of life.   All that came to me watching the little black princess today from my Normal Rockwell porch.  Time cant change the true meaning and or basic love we all need to learn in life.  Its Biblical.  Love thy neighbor as you love thyself.  (Hopefully you love yourself, You Lord)  Simply put its pure love. Hard huh?  Well notsomuch when you come across a sweet little innocent black Angel and her sweet little white prince.

I learned a lesson this day I had known but it had gotten buried under pain. Lest it rise again, the sweet  pure love that is.

She did it....she gave the gift.....of pure love!

I Dreamed Someone Else's Nightmare.........by Julianna Rowe

Have you ever awoke from a nightmare? Definition of Nightmare from Merriam Webster:

An evil spirit formerly thought to oppress people during sleep: something (such as an experience, situation, or object) having the monstrous character of a nightmare or producing a feeling of anxiety or terror. 

That I am aware of I was not born in Hell.  I only go there for prescriptions. (Wal Mart) But I must have been born close because I have had GAD all my life.  (Generalized Anxiety Disorder) Sometimes panic, most of the time normal for me.....thinking the lumber on the truck on the hiway ahead of me will surely let lose and come through my windshield and kill my shining face and self.  It never does but I never stop thinking it will. 

I have the gift of EMPATHY to go along with the GAD!  It is not always a gift... rather it has taken me into the depths of Hell on earth at times. I surely should not capitalize the H in hell.  It doesnt deserve so much as that. 

 When I was in grade school I felt empathy for other children that were teased, bullied, embarrassed, and or wet their pants.....and so on.  I was the school yard and lunchroom "Kingdom Cop!"  I didn't know there already was a God or teacher that might take over the situation and save the poor kids unable to handle it.  You see I wasn't allowed to handle jack shit at home. Always told I "Didn't do it right," or "What's the matter with you?"   So I had to find myself somewhere else.  Not to mention my life path number in numerology is a 9.  Human-i-tarian.  Give give give till there "ain't" no give left.  And I have... and there "ain't" much left except my writing and still caring.  Oh, that's empathy isn't it?  I have no shame for having it.  Just wish I'd had the sense to know when to and when not to.  That said, I have a story to tell.  And then I woke up.

                                                  Someone's Nightmare Came to Me.....

          I held my sister as she died in my arms.  Drive by shooting. Alesha stared at me with her deep brown dying eyes as life drained from her body.  I felt her bloodied flesh filled with terror turn to peace as her life stopped and her spirit ascended to a new world.  Mama wanted to take her from me and hold her but she didn't. She knew Alesha was right where she belonged in my arms.  Papa wanted to run into the streets and kill all the gang members that had hurt so many in our little town and now had murdered his sweet daughter Alesha.

          The following day mama and papa decided it was time to flee our home country.  It had become unsafe to leave our house for food, work, and or any reason at all.  We were starving mentally and physically due to the fear instilled by the gangs.  Papa had saved some money hidden behind one of the bricks that held our lives safe from the elements but not safe from the thieves that had taken over our country.  It was time to run for our lives. 

          We buried our sweet sister and daughter in the dirt that surrounded the home we had always felt secure in until recently.  Papa wrapped her in the blanket mama had made for her when she was an infant.  I begged papa to cover her face with it because I could barely stand to see the brown sand and dirt cover and fill her beautiful brown eyes.  For months my mind had the reoccurring thought of my sweet sister and best friend rotting under the dirt .....covered with bugs and worms.  It was nearly more than I could bare. I had no one to confide in.  There was no way I could tell mama or papa what my minds eye was seeing. As surely as their minds eye was seeing the same thing but my small time on earth didnt allow me to realize that.  I had to deal with losing my best and only friend  alone. 

          We had no choice but to leave Alesha behind. All I could think of was her under the ground and alone as we left the only home we had ever known fleeing our once beloved country that had now been overrun with bandits, thieves, and murderers. In the dead of night we moved as quickly as possible praying baby Joey wouldn't wake the evil men before we got far enough away to feel safe. 

                   I and my infant brother followed my parents for over one thousand miles to find a better life.  Looking back on it now I can't imagine how we made it.  We took the clothes on our backs, each a backpack with water, some food, diapers, toothbrushes, soap, one change of underwear and only a blanket for myself and baby Joey.  No coats as the weather we were traveling in was very warm.  Oh, and the money papa had saved behind the brick wall was taking us to a new and safe life......in America.

                The walking was treacherous.  By the time we had traveled halfway across dirt, rocks, and clay, our shoes had lost most of their soles just as we were losing our life souls as well. The walk was long, hard, and hot and the only thing that kept us going was hope and fear of being murdered by the merciless gangs back home.  The land of freedom was ahead....no one shooting, robbing, and killing us in our own homes.  We had escaped Hell.  Not that the thousand mile walk wasn't a Hell of its own but again faith kept us going toward the land of the free.

            I was a young boy who was having to grow up too fast in a cruel, dangerous, frightening, world.  I was surrounded by other children and grown ups all of us physically filthy on a journey to somewhere better than where our lives had been.  We could only compare to what we knew before the raids on our  homes began.  The death of my sister  haunted me every step of my own personal small adult journey. I talked to Alesha what seemed like every minute of every step we took.  I worried about her alone in the dirt with the bugs.  Maybe they would comfort her?  All I knew was my bad scary life was over as I knew it but this wasn't much better even though my papa told me we were walking toward a new world of all good things.  A place where no one would hurt us anymore..... or so we thought. 

           To be continued....... 

The Birth of the Happy News Lady....... Property of Julianna Rowe

Tuesday, April 12, 2011 

Jamerica, Madison Wisconsin 

So this is Martin!  Martin owns Jamerica, a resturant on Williamson Street in Madison,Wisconsin.  I used to deliver a small Sustainable Times Newspaper, now magazine to Jamerica for several years....  one day in 2007 I walked into Jamerica and was greeted by Martin. (of course not knowing Martin was the owner) Martin smiled his huge smile showing twice as many beautiful pearly whites as I think I have ever seen.  Or maybe it was merely his genuine happy spirit I saw between that smile.  He said, "Awwhhh, lookie dere, eets dah hoppie nuse laadie!" (Obviously I hope I am showing his deep Jamacian accent....)
Well from that day on I couldn't get those words out of my head.  I really was The Happy News Lady.  I really did find humor in all things.  I really did deliver that humor and that news to all I met.  Sooo....I put it on the side of my car.  Yup I did.  The Happy News Lady.  You see I had gone thru a very traumatic loss.  Of everything.  My business, my car, my savings, all security.  And there was this man saying I was The Happy News Lady!  So I decided to be just that and started a blog post called just that.  The Happy News Lady who finds humor in something every day.  Yet like most I have my days or months on the off side of life where I don't write anything funny or happy.  I will always return on the good side.  Being flashed by some idiot on the freeway, imagining things that seem real but aren't, using my own life stories as a joke which the whole darn thing has been.  Not sure who the heck I can blame for that except mawh!  I'd rather do the denial thingy and bless Martin for planting a seed within my mind that grew and allowed me to express my everything and  many thoughts"out there" for really no one to see, but for me to "get it out."  I did not blog to make money.  If I had I would have done my fun numerology....  I blogged for me. And I thank Martin for his happiness of spirit.  I wish to be someone who greets others with such joy of heart and face like Martin does.....  "Aawwhh loookie here, eet's dah Hopie Nuse Ladie."   Yes it is ......

Sometimes God / the Universe sends us each a Martin with a message.  Martin's message just might reach more than me through me.  God bless Martin Deacon! He already blessed his business for sure!
Go ahead and Google Jamerica!  And there you will find Martin Deacon who moved here from Jamaca and stayed. Martin could have moved anywhere and stayed.  He said the people of Madison Wisconsin are happy people, but me, I think it's Martin who is the happy person that makes each of his days a good day to be alive.  And I think Madison is very lucky to have this person and his specialty food and personality.