The Corona Walk............property of Julianna Rowe

The Corona Walk:   Property of Julianna Rowe 

It had been a long three weeks on the inside with what seemed like a prison with no bars.  The walls carried themselves closer and closer to me as though they were asking for or needing something.  I tried to keep them at bay for they frightened me with their non-descript attitude and lack of emotions.   Yet I needed them and they needed me as both stood against the other in the fear of each other's neediness.  

 And then came the day of partial release meaning I could leave the presence of those needy walls and saunter to the mailbox and the outside world.  But only for a short duration they say.  Who is they you ask?  The government of course, the ones who put their men of martial order on each street with the shiny badges and leather holsters of killing.  Would they kill me if I left sooner?  Maybe.  So, I didn’t because they owned me.  

I walked to the outside touching the lock or a knob or a key thinking it might murder me. Then to the outside world I sauntered in trepidation.  Why wasn’t anyone else out there with me? At least the walls inside hailed toward me in some measure of wantonness.  I was momentarily bankrupt of mind yet adequate enough wishing to run back to the isolation and nothingness.  And then I heard something it as I peered out searching for the sound of life but there was no life.  One car passed carrying some sense of hope for the living.  There it is again, that sound.   I walked further on the gray cement hearing only my footsteps click clack click clack and then that other sound again.  I searched from left to right up and down but only saw the emptiness of each storefront, each abandoned parking stall and then I saw it, the sound that is.  Crackling like little sticks brushing against one another but it wasn’t, it was a whirlwind of leaves circling about like happy children playing so peacefully.   Hippity Hop tumbling and giggling in the chilly fresh air of nature.  No other sounds were heard because there was a barrenness of humans on the streets.   

Then I saw from my left side, a woman walking toward me, but as she came closer, twenty feet, she oddly crossed over the grey deserted cement to the parking lot allowing herself to have no human contact with me at all.  I thought to myself, “I won't hurt you, or will I?”  To her I was a possible murderer and to me she should have been.   

Then I heard the sound of the birds frolicking in the trees like I didn’t exist.  They used to flee from me but not anymore because it was there turn for me to flee.  You see the humans were fleeing now and mother nature had her house back.  The leaves told me so as did the birds along with the silence of nature who woke from her forever prison of hibernation from the humans ruling. It was her turn.  And I enjoyed every moment of each blade of grass singing to the heavens their freedom from man's chemicals.  Each tree budding not because it was man's calendar called Spring rather each bud was her freedom from the human.  The sky was clear and reflecting itself upon me clean and in thankfulness and some arrogance of its freedom from all human pollution.  It appeared like the water off a paradise island where you can see through it freely, no interruptions as in no plastics, no oil, no garbage, and no chemicals. The sky was free indeed from the humans.  The trees swayed as though speaking their independence, the leaves were dancing, and the birds were singing.   

Mother nature had spoken to me and I heard and felt her. She was alive and my people were not.  At least the Universe had shut them down temporarily so Mother Nature could be reborn. How long will that last?  I don’t know but I do know there must be a reason.    

The World Smelled Better Today!..................by Julianna Rowe

The world smelled better today or maybe I smelled better with the new Obsession perfume I purchased.  I say this because I was rec'd well everywhere I traveled.  I hadn't done anything different, in fact I had some bad thoughts today.  Maybe the moon and the stars were in some perfect or near perfect placement for my benefit.  Its's not my birth-Day nor did I fall to my knees  begging for anything in particular or anything for that matter.... I have no MAJOR health issues other than a partial lung removal this past March as well as a case of acquired Bronchitis that set me back some.  Family issues no different than anyone else.  The end of a relationship could have some bearing on why the Universe might be offering some uplifting people in my path.  Either or.....it was a darn good day at the Bank....the store.....the nail salon.....in traffic....at work....and at home.

I was early for the nail salon so I made a stop at the HyVee Grocery Store.  I walked in asking where the rest room was.  When I found it occupied I waited and when the door opened a man-boy walked out.  I double checked the sign that read WOMEN.  I thought OMG my first trans bathroom incident and it went fair(l)y well.  I wondered if he had breasts or if he was a he?  If he looked like a he why wasn't he in the MEN's side?  What am I missing?  After we spoke some nothingness words I decided to let it go! Way over my head in terms of understanding although I do tolerate. Is that the right word?

Then I asked a middle aged man where the organics section was.....he basically danced me over to the place I needed, then gave me a high five, a big smile, and good words!  What a thrill. 

Then I met the best dressed couple in the city.  I thought of asking if I could take a photo but decided their demeanor was the next thing to royalty and it would not have been appropriate. So I did the next best thing.  I said:

"Excuse me."  They both stopped and give me their undivided attention.  I continued:  "You all are a beautiful couple, dressed impeccably. You make the store and the world a better and more attractive place."

They smiled and thanked me.  They were a black couple in their 60's.  He wore a long wool dress coat with a red plaid scarf around his neck.  A french hat or maybe called a golf hat in this country.

She wore a knee length black wool dress coat with a black ranchero hat.  You know, the flat brimmed one.  They made the world smell better to all who viewed them.  It made me want to go shopping for some a new wardrobe or at the least a new hat.  So many people wear sweats or just plain nasty clothes when they leave the house.  This couple made life look more hopeful.  Kinder.  And Blessed.

I found myself being funny again.  Using the humor I allowed to go stagnant for a while.  I am a happy person and enjoy when others feel happy, especially in my presence.  Yes that is me, mouth wide open as usual but this time laughter pouring out. Nice teeth.

"Obviously No One Was Watching the Coop".................by Julianna Rowe

Rooster-Cluck and his Man-Chicks…..

https://www.dictionary.com  Cluck definition: to utter the cry of a “hen” brooding or calling HIS chicks. (Mitch, Rudy, Pompeo, Numes...)

I do not recall where I got this picture but it's priceless!  Just look at that Man-Cluck Rooster Trump with his orange head and fat belly... high stepping his feathery strut as he crosses the plank I say represents our sagging America all the time thinking he’s a real man who believe's he might rule Putin’s world.  Strutting that plank like the women he’s squashed beneath him getting away with it scott free.  There he be with his herd of  “man-clucks” following the pied piper bad boy!  (Pied Piper: someone who other people follow or support but who may harm them or leave them disappointed) To say the least.

Can chicken's (CLUCK's) swim? Nope! Their feathers are not waterproof, they do not secrete the oil that ducks do – once they get sodden wet the chicken will sink like a stone. They should never be left alone near water that is deep enough for them to drown in. Obviously no one was watching the coop.  I think not because the BBC  says they are going off the plank one by one.  Number one being “Chicken Mitch”. Number two, “Rudy the Runt.”  Number three, “Pinocchio Pompeo.”  Number four, "Not-so Nunes." And so on.

   

Who would ever follow (kiss the butt) an illiterate, incompetent, narcissist hasn’t learned that some man-Chickens who pretend to be roosters are nothing more than long legged Trumpers.  (Means not fully grown up mentally but fully GREEDY) And from what I see, hear, and read those boys following that orange topped strutter on that narrow plank can’t swim well enough to be in this marathon!  “It's fun watching him cluck over his kids on HIS playground this week." 

Part II: "Cinderella Syndrome" .........by Julianna Rowe

Hello My Name is Katerina and I have so much more to tell: Gangsters and Guns, The Hooker and Charlie Rich, The Dentist, Virginia, and the Mob. Here is where it begins

Part II:  Crestview:  “The Cinderella Syndrome”  

          Raised as a female in the '50's is self explanatory to some, but not to others. The majority of girls were raised to find a good husband and have babies. To be quiet, cook, and clean. Example: Lucy and Desi in "I Love Lucy!" (That was the 70’s, I was raised in the 50’s!)

         Tragedy for Katerina became familiar in those days  in the form of being a sexual party favor looking to fit in and be loved. (Not as in hooker by any means.) Crashing on occasion into a self-loathing victim.  The “Pretty Girl” Syndrome.  Searching for the glass slipper with a foot that didn’t fit any shoe, much less a glass slipper… anywhere.  Waiting for a break never looking in the proper direction, within.

          I didn’t know how.  I was taught I was trash.

          Everything was an outward leap, while in reality I was drowning in the rapids of life waiting for rescue. Only to be pulled further down river by self-serving men escaping death many times over. Those men were sharp as the Eagle who soared high above the river with sharp eyes that could see beneath the surface allowing it to dive to catch its unknowing prey.

          I would choose situations reflecting the unsuspecting game I was led into playing.  The victim.  Living in a continuing state of blindness to everything surrounding me, the people, the places, and events that deftly showed the chilling effects to come, all the time thinking I was getting when in reality I was in a city of garbage still searching for Crestview.  It wasn’t there, nor was it anywhere.  Have you ever searched for years for haunting spirit you couldn’t see? 

          Crestview in reality was a negative force.  I made it a “make believe” place like fantasy land like Disney World. It's all I had.

Chapter 13: The Love of My Life...................by Julianna Rowe

 This chapter could have been named Crestview II as the true story carried the same demons held inside the souls of each character including myself.  Those silent dragons kept me on a continual search for Crestview’s delusive dreams. 

Chapter 13:  The Love of My Life…..Really Wasn’t 

     (I remember the day he walked into the hotel restaurant where I and a friend were having lunch.  He caught my Crestview eye and I watched intently as he sauntered across the room.  He was a cross between Sam Elliot and Rhett Butler! He had removed his black Stetson hat upon entering and held it close to his hip as he moved. His shirt was crisp as was the sharp crease down the center of his denim jeans.  His dark leather western boots led not only his walk but called out to me with a howling I instantly yearned for from his touch.  And then he seated himself in the rich black leather booth, looked up, and our eyes locked.  That was the beginning of a true but treacherous and sad love story.)   

            I believe my mind had metal plates surrounding it not allowing any good sense of any kind to enter because I carried a deep love for that man from the age of twenty seven until four years ago. I “bore” that love through two marriages. Not that I didn't love my "hubbs" plural! I have heard we all have the "first love" or "soul mate" love in our lives. Personally I have come to learn we can love more than one person but in different ways. I could go into a long love story here that lasted "three years to life" (some call that a sentence)......add all the ups and believe me the downs....add the children hurt.....the flights back and forth from Oklahoma to Virginia every week.....the heart pounding races to the airport with what seemed like movie star red carpet encounters at the entrance gates bounding into the warm passionate arms of one another then building further to gentle yet firm kisses for all to view. Never knowing anyone else was in the building. Carrying luggage, sharing meals, drinks, loving tenderly....dancing closely, laughing uncontrollably, and best of all looking into one an others eye's seeing the reflection of only one of two. We shared a deep love indeed. 

           I have heard that money is the root of all evil. Pain and grief could be included in that circle of adjectives regarding evil.  

           The world says true and honest Love is all good and pure. So there you have my story, all "tied up” with a handsome cowboy who sauntered into a restaurant and looked into my eyes. Not all true and honest love lasts.

            Basically my story could be two sentences or even two words. Love or Money. Question mark. He chose the money and I was left with the grief and pain which I shall explain.

            I thought I should die. Long story again.... humm maybe someday I shall have more time to write….. for believe me this would be a great book about the tall dark and handsome cowboy, and I shall add, upperclass cowboy whose Daddy rich britches gave him a choice, me or the millions of inheritance.  You see my love was in the midst of a divorce and the soon to be x-wife being wiser and rich put private detectives on him.  She had photos of the wholesome airport greetings, the sharing meals, the luggage being carried into my home.  Photo’s she showed Daddy rich britches.  I broke up no marriage.  The papers had been filed long before I came into any view. Her plan worked out well for her where as the photos helped her attain much of the family fortune.

          The saddest of all was my parents liked him. The children were allowed to go places with us.  The doors were opening for me to see my boys again.  And then once again the doors closed for my boys and I.

          He had purchased me a brand new 1974 burgundy and white Grand Prix.  Asked me to marry him...... until his "Daddy" stopped the gentle deep love, the travel, the red carpet meetings, and the marriage, the everything, in our tracks. 

         I was still working for Arthur at the real estate offices when I learned these facts in a motel outside a dusty small town in western Virginia, where he visited me one last time and was instructed to give me the family decision.  We sat on the edge of an old motel bed and sobbed together like two children. Cowboy’s Daddy chose new tracks for my / our life, and I felt like a homeless bum left in a box car on deserted tracks, alone to die. A lost Love can make a person feel like that. Yet as the years past he was always that little box of a dream I could go to when I needed. A fake hope.  My foolish faith was a photo in the second drawer of my jewel box and a chapter in my life book page 266. He was not my God but he was one of my earthly treasures I always hoped to meet again whether at age eighty on earth or in the heavens hereafter.

         Over the years we spoke by phone a few times, even met once. Oddly, the man I did marry lived in a small town in Texas where my Rhett Butler/Sam Elliot built and opened a Meat packing business one mile away from our home. Odd? I would say!! He had moved from his lifelong home in Virginia to this small city in East Texas, one mile from me. And I moved from Virginia with my husband to one mile from him.

           By then he had more children and so had I. The next time we spoke he had 14 Grandchildren and I had 6..... I knew then heaven was about the only place we might ever be together again. Yes I am laughing because the Universe was either trying to kill the demons of Crestview or trying to keep them alive.

            On occasion during a boring evening at home I would Google his name. Yes I did! And finally one night I found pictures of he and his family...all six children, the Grands, his still living Mother.....and Jackpot, I found one of his daughters on a Face Book site with his photo included. He was bald and I barely recognized him yet he still held that handsome Rhett Butler appearance of taking care of one’s self. The tailored suit and perfect boots. Looking at his photo I could still feel the warmth and safety of his arms and the softness of his lips on mine...my dreams smashed, my hopes lost, my years of deep wanting and memories crushed like a mile wide tornado came onto my screen and into the furrows of my mind and left me momentarily empty. Crap, now that's twice I am left empty by this fellow. My fault...I could have kept my delusional dreams and fake security forever if I hadn't hit that keyboard or joined face book. Now I don't even have a fake memory of a deep love!

              The Crestview money/demons won out again in the end.... for they were mightier than my fragile earthy dreams!  The moral of this love story is that it really wasn't.   By the way he always took excellent care of himself in every manner as I said.  I noticed in the facebook photos his wife was Really Really LARGE!  I’m sorry Rhett, that’s what you get.  

            I read he passed away a few years ago.  I thought I might get a sign from him from the beyond but I never did.  He was a piece of Crestview from the generations past that needed to be lived and allowed to die. I think.

I'll Never Tell...................by Julianna Rowe

I have a business called "A Green Experience," which means my clients choose to have their homes cleaned using all natural Green (cleaning) supplies. I have seen everything from "erp" and I don't mean Wyatt, in bathroom trash containers, to enough dog hair from one cleaning to make forty wigs. OK so four wigs. But I'll never tell. 

The other day one of my clients came to my daughter who works with me on occasion and asked her if she could clean the Green cleaner off his toilet seat after she cleans it with said Green cleaner.

She said, "Sure, but why?" He said, "Because I got stuck to it!"

I couldn't stop laughing because I wanted so badly to say, "No , its not the Green Cleaner, its that you sit too long sir!

You have stacks of magazines, crossword puzzles, and pens, heck it looks like an office next to the toilet. My Grandpa used to say, "Either sit there and think or sit there and stink." Sorry but he was an old Farmer and when I was just old enough to read I saw that written (a tad differently) on the outhouse wall.

There really was an old Sears Catalog in Pa's outhouse for the purpose of wiping. I used to crumple up the pages and rub them together to soften them for obvious reasons. I was 6 years old!! If you have never wiped with a piece of paper you have missed out on a piece of life. But then I have never used a leaf and I don't figure I have missed out on a darn thing.

OK so back to what I have seen. Sweat so thick on walking machines it is yellow and no I wont clean that up! I have seen closets I wouldn't let the cleaning lady see. Now I know why my friends always cleaned up before the cleaning lady came. I love it when I see a beautiful black flat stove top someone used like they were cooking over a campfire. And I am supposed to figure out how to get a quarter of an inch of black crust off it. But I'll never tell. How about teenagers rooms where you cant see the floor for the clothes and glasses of water and bowls and trash and SPIDERS. One of my clients tells me I forgot to dust off the top of the furnace regulator. Yet the inside of the closet looks like a trash bin. But I'll never tell. Once I even got fired for cleaning the cats water fountain which was not fit for carp... You have to laugh at that one.

Then there are those people who have been blessed financially but don't take care of what they were blessed with...I am speaking of the tangible items their money buys them. I am in awe of the number of shoes people have, the organic foods, the pottery and artwork, the remodeling, the closets bigger than my bedroom, the seven bathrooms, and so on, but I'll never tell. I don't mind, I get to people watch and that is one of my favorite pass times and I get paid for it. I keep in mind that I nurture a home and that is my job. Whatever they do with it beyond that I can only watch for the humor of it all.
Above Photo is not of me, duh. Don't you wish and so do I! And make a note this  bottom picture was a bad day after the toilet went over and down the steps! Cute socks huh?

I'll Never Tell..............