snow

Dad sent me some snow.

((my camera cord to connect to up load photos is MIA, I will do that soon))

Yes, snow.

The funeral home, the funeral, the graveside service, going to his home, spending time with my Mom, my sister and eldest brother, cousins, family, it all went by too quickly

the planes, the airports, it all is so surreal that it all spanned just a few days

I sat on the plane and looked down and heard this song play over and over in my mind:

Such Great Heights (acoustic version by Iron and Wine)   *click to listen

I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shapes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay
True, it may seem like a stretch, but
Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
Head when you're away when I am missing you to death
When you are out there on the road for
Several weeks of shows and when you scan
The radio, I hope this song will guide you home

They will see us waving from such great
Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away,
'come down now,' but we'll stay...

I tried my best to leave this all on your
Machine but the persistent beat it sounded
Thin upon listening
That frankly will not fly. you will hear
The shrillest highs and lowest lows with
The windows down when this is guiding you home

and I realize that so much of my life has a soundtrack.

I spoke at Dad's funeral... I had sat on the plane on the way North on Friday and couldn't come up with anything, when miracles of miracles the sun broke from the cloud cover and pulsed through the window directly opposite my seat to my right- so much sun on me that I was blinded... and able to know exactly what to write and how to say it.

My eulogy had to do with one of the few "lessons" my father told me.... when I was young and pulled the boat to shore closer with a rope to tie on a rusty big ring affixed to a rock at the Alliquippa, Dad said, "If you care about your boat, you'd better learn to tie a good knot"

that was the basis of the eulogy... a knot tied too tight will break, one too loose will lose what you hold dear... so, tie your knots of friendship, family, loved ones... because there is no time like the present to love and care for eachother, no better time to call or see a friend or family member.. we must learn to tie good knots. This, amidst lots of tears. The whole room cried when I asked them to remember our other brother, Dwight, as he lives his days in his facility for head injured adults.

I've always said I could be hit by a truck tomorrow, today counts, and never has that been more poignantly realized than this weekend. It is sad to lose a loved one, and hard to say goodbye, but we were so fortunate to see Dad when he still knew us, and he had the luxury of deciding what to do with his estate, and to make his preferences for his funeral arrangements. My ex's husband's father's death by contrast was sudden and unpredicted- he died while having brunch after a workout at the gym. I am not sure which scenario I'd rather have, honestly, other than I would like to live a long, happy life and die in my sleep.

I choose that.

and the snow? I think it symbolizes a cleansing for the past, a whitening, an eraser for a chalkboard of hurt feelings in our family, a chance to start anew.

Rest in Peace, my father.

No amount of coffee, no amount of crying, no amount of whiskey, no amount of wine.

And so, the day ends. Pammy told me he was gone while I stood in my gorgeous sage green and white office while I held Jade's old cell phone to my ear. I shut my door, sat in the guest chair in front of my desk and just hugged my legs... the tears sprung from my eyes and I could actually see them splash to the carpet below. She told me he was in no pain, they were all around him, she was crying and sobbing and I am not sure if I heard her words as much as I felt them. And as fast as she called, she left.. me, alone, 1000 miles away, alone in this state where I have adopted family but no real loved ones.

I tried to compose, as Marsha had to leave to take her husband to the cancer doctor this afternoon. She unlocked the door and hugged me, and let me cry a bit, and comforted me. When she left later, she told me she loved me. I alternated between feeling that I was out of body and feeling panicky to just plodding along, copying the church bulletin, folding them and putting on the mailing labels, when the inside cover caught my eye, listing that my father died today, in Maine.

and I lost it again.

My father, he is with his brothers, sisters and parents now. He is in no pain, and for that I am thankful. He is gone, and I have no father. And I feel about five years old right now and I would expect that my sister has drank enough Bailey's Irish Cremes and taken enough anti anxiety pills to cause an allergic reaction, yet she will sleep tonight. And on Friday, I will drive at 3:00 in the morning to take a plane home, have the visiting hours that night, and the funeral on Saturday.

My eyes hurt on fire, my cheeks sting from salty tears, and I have no idea how I am going to handle being at this. God, please be my strength.

my dad

My Dad.

July 10, 1930 - January 10, 2007

coin operated boy

That's what I am looking for. Someone to smooch.

right.

Truth is, I am so sick to death of guys that my journey towards mission work (cooler than a convent since I don' t want to be a Catholic) is closer than ever.

Yup, I am done. Or, at least done with men that decide to be needy and want to discuss our relationship... "you, bad, me, perfect" precisely during a crisis that I am going through. When normal human beings would gently offer support, not push, wait to bring up issues... I tend to attract the people that freak out when the focus isn't on them because... say, I've just returned from a stressful trip home to visit dying father? finished a grueling few weeks of the busiest work season? deal with having oldest child go off to college while still grieving father dying a 1000 miles away?

Yes, I am done with men like that. I am honestly really now getting the fact that I am not a despicable person after all ... one that that strings men around and won't commit to them... I am just choosing people that continue to drain me emotionally. I support, I smile, I help, I try hard to be there when needed... and when I am hurting, I get handed the golden platter of complaints. "You don't call, you don't come over, you don't stay with me long enough, you don't make an effort, ..... you don't... you don't." Never the list of what I do right, always what I do wrong.

Is it truly this hard? Shouldn't love be easy, and "treat others the way you want to be treated"? I am not discounting the help that these men give, for they usually do, sometimes giving so much material things to the point that you feel like your are bought. but when it comes to pushing someone to the brink of climbing the walls of stress, they rank as champions.

I give up.

Coincidences, Serendipity, Life and Death

At work today, I got a phone call from my brother in law, Joe; I had just run across the street to get chicken salad lunch plates from Lee's restaurant, and had left late because of talking... had I left on time, I would have gotten his call unprepared... serendipity. Marsha told me he called, I was able to breathe, prepare, shore up for when he called back.

And, he called to say that my Dad is very ill, and expected not to make it. They have called me with that before, but this time, I think it may be "the time". Rev. Terry and Marsha were concerned, and came into my office after to see about me... and, I was able to be calm, not break down. Until I described what it like to say goodbye to him, knowing that was the last time he would know me, and perhaps the last time I would see him living. How he looked at me so long, just looked and looked at me... he knew I was driving back to SC, knew me. He knew me.

And, so, I composed myself. Because, I choose life each time. I choose light. I choose to smile rather than frown. Although, I know I need the darkness, the crying, the down.

I called, found out more tonight, and feel that it may indeed be his last days/hours on this planet. Did he make peace? Did he atone? Does he feel that he has accomplished all he was wanting to do in this life?

I think of this as I search for flights home, as I listen to music to distract me from the uncertainty of when, what to do, how to handle the situation of bringing the kids or leaving them with family, etc. I put on the Weepies, and attempt to play "Somebody Loved".. and it loads with that name on the title, yet, it plays a different song entirely, one I didn't know. I look it up, and find it is somehow interchanged and for that moment in time the scramble gave me a song called "Gotta Have You"by the Weepies, and, I cry. *

I cry for not having the Dad of my fairy tales, cry for losing the one I am about to lose.

I cry for not having a husband that loves me.

I cry for breaking up with my best friend, the only true friend I have down here.

I cry for being exhausted 24/7 from not sleeping.

I cry for being overwhelmed with bills and broken stuff that I cannot fix, and issues I can't resolve

I cry for all the days I smile and be upbeat for others, and not get that in return when I need it most

I cry for holding it in too long

I cry for the sugar I eat to make me feel better that changes my body

Yet

I am grateful for the song that made the tears come

I am grateful for my job that fulfills me so much

I am grateful to have a roof over my head, a car to drive, and food to feed my kids.

I am grateful that I had that best friend for all these years, and that he has the chance to find the girl that will fulfill the requests I could not.. ie, being more available and more relationship focused

I am grateful for the beauty of nature, the sun and the moon

I am grateful for the awesome health of my children, and my mother

I am grateful for the abundance of the cosmos that always provides when I need it most

I am grateful.

And, I may fly home, for the circle of life continues and there is a season for every purpose under Heaven.

* Lyrics for The Weepies
"Gotta Have You"

Gray, quiet and tired and mean
Picking at a worried seam
I try to make you mad at me over the phone.
Red eyes and fire and signs
I'm taken by a nursery rhyme
I want to make a ray of sunshine and never leave home

No amount of coffee, no amount of crying
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine
No, nothing else will do
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you.

The road gets cold, there's no spring in the middle this year
I'm the new chicken clucking open hearts and ears
Oh, such a prima donna, sorry for myself
But green, it is also summer
And I won't be warm till I'm lying in your arms

I see it all through a telescope: guitar, suitcase, and a warm coat
Lying in the back of the blue boat, humming a tune...

my kids

My Kids Make My Christmas

At 15, 14, and soon to be 18, they are all taller than me

sometimes they think smarter than me

but always, always in my heart no matter what I do

it's with them in mind.

Merry Christmas

Best Song to Dance to EVER

because songs from junior high matter

and of course, this...

......home.........I guess I'm already there...........

This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody) (originally recorded by Talking Heads)

Home
Is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me 'round
I come home
Born with a weak heart
I guess I must be having fun

But the less we say about it the better
Let's make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the clouds
I'm okay I know nothing's wrong
Hi Ho - Got plenty of time.....
Hi Ho - Got light in your eyes.....

And you're standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up and say goodnight , Say goodnight.....

Home
Is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home
You lifted up your wings
I guess this must be the place

Because I can't tell one from another
Did I find you or you find me?
There was a time before we were born
If someone asks this is where I'll be

Hi Ho - We drift in and out.....
Hi Ho - Sing into my mouth.....

And out of all those kinds of people
You've got a face with a view
And I'm just an animal looking for a home
To share the same space for a minute or two

Will you love me until my heart stops?
Will you love me until I'm dead?

You've got eyes that light up
Eyes that look through
Cover up the blank spot
Hit me on the head
Say goodnight.....
Say goodnight.....
Say goodnight.....

********************************************************************************

This song is so indescribably beautiful. I listened to it almost daily the fall before we left my home, my Maine. I find myself seeking it out again, now in the twelfth year and same month that we arrived.
"Home
Is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home
You lifted up your wings
I guess this must be the place"
We are supposed to be exactly where we are all the time, and we will be taught why we are there by our experiences and our lessons. I am here for a reason, and I have given up the struggle to challenge it. I feel that this song resonates for me so strongly because there is a part of me that feels that I am here for a short time... be it 99 years, it is still short... and that I am supposed to be doing something and I feel that there is not enough time. I have chosen this life, and I am grateful for the good parts and the happy parts that I have had thus far. I do feel that longing for closeness, for comfort and peace. I feel that may come after my passing, and I am okay with that.

Just to be lifted up by wings, I long for that.

into somebody loved

I love this song, and someday I will sing it and mean it.


Somebody Loved - The Weepies

Rain turns the sand into mud
Wind turns the trees into bone
Stars turning high up above
You turn me into somebody loved.

Nights when the heat had gone out
We danced together alone
Cold turned our breath into clouds
We never said what we were dreaming of
But you turned me into somebody loved.

Someday when we're old and worn
Like two softened shoes
I will wonder on how I was born
The night I first ran away from you.

Now my feet turn the corner back home
Sun turns the evening to rose
Stars turning high up above
You turn me into somebody loved.

©2002 Deb Talan & Steve Tannen (ASCAP/BMI). All rights reserved.

hear it: somebody loved

d r i v e

This is what I looked at for 1000 miles up, and a 1000 miles back. Nothing but freaking traffic, road, yuck.

But, when I finally got there, Maine was as beautiful as ever and I am oh so glad I went.

I'll post more about the trip later, I am late as usual and need to get going with my day!!!! Why am I always 10 paces behind myself, I do believe I must be ADD. grrr

Kid #3

This is Jadie -baby, my youngest child. She turned 14 on July 31st, and is known for her wacky sense of humor and laughter. What can I say about this kid, other than she is an angel on earth? Seriously. She has done more to brighten all our world than anyone I have ever met. She is sweet, caring, funny, smart, I just can't say enough about her. That she is turning from a kid to a teenager is not as dramatic as it is for some parents, for she retains a childlike quality that will last throughout her life. She is so tender hearted to her friends, and fiercely protects the underdog. She is great at finding new music and photography. I am proud to be her Mum.

happy heart, heavy heart

I love my clogs.
That I painted with
left over paint
on shabby scuffed clogs.

I love my new necklace.
That I made from shells
and stones myself.

I love that my kids are healthy.
And happy, and loved.

I love warm autumn days with trees the colors of jewels.

I love that my sons are learning to play the guitar and challenge eachother to play "Stairway to Heaven" and Bob Marley.

I love that my daughter and her friend Amelia invited me to have coffee with them at their favorite coffee shop.

I love so very much.

But it all helps to mask the pain, and keep me busy enough to not slow down enough to realize that my father, the man I really don't know, is dying 1000 miles from me and I am too scared to call him.

We will drive to Maine probably this weekend, if all goes well, and it will be wrenching and sad and strange.

And yet, although I know better, and I have been warned, I am keeping it all bottled up inside and not allowing myself to cry over it.

Because I am guilty for not being there to help.

Because I am afraid that when I cry, I'll be crying for the dad I wish I had instead of the one I do have.

Because I know that is selfish.

Because I know that he is the product of a grandfather and father and countless other men before him that suffered from alcoholism, and that he has zero memory of half of why it's hard for me to be around him.

Because if I cry, I'll be vulnerable and I try so hard to be strong and tough and full of light and happiness.

So, I smile in the sunshine, and am melancholy in the light of the moon,

and I may drive up there to say goodbye.

This song is beautiful: I Never Saw Blue Like That Before

Sandy Sue

There is a woman on the website that I frequently post on that leaves me the most amazing comments. I mean, like FREAKING amazingly nice comments. The kind that you log on when you are having a bad day to re-read, that is how nice they are.

Like this:

Agreed
Submitted by Sandy Sue on Thu, 10/12/2006 - 11:32.

I agree, Jana (not about the limeade), but about the fact that he is a writer that is publishable. The same may be said of you! To write with humor and feeling is difficult, and really is amazing to me. It requires talent that is not learned in any school of journalism. Were you BOTH in a larger city, I imagine people would be making offers right and left. I am truly impressed with both of your writing abilities, because laughter, and laughing at one's self, is the key to happiness. It is marvelous that you all have this site to place work, but your writing abilities are so much better than just simply posting them on a local small town website. Please explore your options. Perhaps a newspaper in a larger city, or a magazine that takes freelancers, would recognize what they have here! The writing submitted by both of you adds a great deal to this site -- general reporting, events coming up , etc. are needed on the site --- but so is the humor element. I look forward to your postings, and imagine that many others do as well! But broaden your horizons some! Lots of people would enjoy your work!

and this:

My two favorites!
Submitted by Sandy Sue on Tue, 10/17/2006 - 18:06.

Girl! You and Andrew need to start your own newspaper or a magazine! Why not??? Or more to the point, why are you both not in Manhattan or Atlanta, anyhow! (Andrew may wish to stay in the south---so I tossed in the Atlanta reference!) I have an extensive educational background, am well-traveled, etc, and have rarely seen better work than the two of you produce! Hartsville's "journalism representatives" are apparently not in a positon to offer you much, so look out of this area! I hope someone discovers you both!

and this:

readergirl
Joined: 09 Jul 2006 Posts: 8 PostPosted: Tue Oct 17, 2006 9:30 pm
Post subject: HartsvilleToday.com

What does everyone think of the hartsvilletoday.com? There are two very talented writers currently offering frequent "slice of life" features. I have thought for a long time that the Messenger needed a female columnist. There was a really good one a few years ago called "The Good Life" which ended abruptly. Also, last year I think a woman named Martha started a column that lasted only a couple issues. I nominate Jana for the position. The only other "slice of life" column is the rather jokey one by Scott Davis, which I'm sure is appreciated by many. For something a little more thoughtful, I nominate "Andrew". (Andrew, who are you?") While it's true that a lot of people can enjoy Jana's and Andrew's observations on the net, there is nothing quite like curling up with the newspaper and a cup of coffee. I really think these new additions to the "hands-on" paper would be appreciated by the entire Hartsville community.

sandysue Joined: 20 Jul 2006 Posts: 13 Location: South Carolna PostPosted: Wed Oct 18, 2006 9:38 am
Post subject: I agree, Readergirl!

Girl, you ain't telling no lies! Those two are my main reason for even going on the site. People all over my office talk about their articles and how well they are written! The columnists you mentioned that are no longer having their work published in The Messenger, were local people, which made sense. The column that IS currently published (the silly one you mentioned by Scott Davis), well that author lives in Sumter--which makes no sense. Sumter is lovely, but I live in Hartsville! Appears to me that local talent, like Jana's, would be a more logical choice in the local paper. Doesn't sound like rocket science to me! It is why I have stated before, on the other site, that the two people you have commented about (Jana and Andrew) ought to move to a larger area---someone would have snapped them both up by now! I am glad USC and The Messenger have provided a forum for us to read such professional work!

and most recently, this:

Send a Smoke Signal
Submitted by Sandy Sue on Wed, 10/25/2006 - 15:34.

Jana: I guess you are going to have to fire a cannonball, or send a flare up or something to make the local paper (or some paper) see your worthiness to be a columnist. At the very least, you need to be a freelancer. This was beyond SUPER! Girl, as long as you are posting this quality work for free, no one is going to feel the need to pay! (Maybe the paper is on to something here!) Lord knows, I'd put you to work! I sure hope someone notices your talents! You make this site what it is! You go, girl!

So, who IS she??

This little city is not very big at all, but it does have a large Fortune 500 world headquarters factory that employs lots of folks, so, she probably works there and travels for them. Still, I always wonder when I am shopping, "is she here somewhere? this guardian angel of the 'net?"

By the way, "Andrew" is my best guy friend here in town, I love him like a brother and he is the yin to my yang, and loves to make me laugh by impersonating Carol Channing to me over the phone.



He is my best person to bounce ideas around, and is generally one of the best things about living in a small southern town. His writing far surpasses mine, he has a damn MASTERS in journalism, but he kindly praises me and encourages me to "observe, appreciate, and write the damn shit down."

I love me some Andy.

I am so hyped up on caffeine and antihistimines now that I swear to God that if I don't get some work done today around this house, it won't ever happen.

What would I rather be doing today? Instead of cleaning this damn house and perhaps clean out the car and take care of this shabby lawn?

Read some more of this: The Lightworkers Way

But that is a post for another day.

Because we all need a hug....

When is the last time you were hugged?

I was sent this video, and it really touched my heart, and got me thinking. The sound is loud, so turn your speakers to a comfortable level.

Free Hugs Video



Read more about this fella, Juan Mann, here: Free Hug man speaks out

On a quest to find out where HE got the idea, I found out that it originated here in the South... more on that below...and I also found a lot of research about how beneficial hugs are to we humans.

Hugs just may be just what the doctor ordered when it comes to stress reduction. Consider this excerpt from a recent USA Today article, Hugs warm the heart, and may protect it

here is an excerpt:

"Cuddling may be good medicine for the heart. A brief hug and 10 minutes of
handholding with a romantic partner greatly reduce the harmful physical
effects of stress, according to a study reported over the weekend at the
American Psychosomatic Society meeting here.
Loving contact before a tough day at work "could carry over and protect you
throughout the day," says psychologist Karen Grewen with the School of
Medicine at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill.”
“This is the latest of many studies suggesting humans are "hard-wired" to
thrive as social animals, says Tiffany Field of the Touch Research Institute
at the University of Miami Medical School. Field's research shows touch
lowers output of cortisol, a stress hormone. When cortisol dips, there's a
surge of two "feel good" brain chemicals, serotonin and dopamine.”

Brain chemicals may be the case, but, all I know is that hugging heals. We instinctively embrace someone in pain, whether emotional or physical. There is nothing like the relief of hugging someone you have been worried about, the sweet hug of a child, the embrace of a loved one you haven’t seen in a while.

What about the inspiration for the Australian "Juan Mann"? It was non other than a man from the US, formerly of Miami South Beach, and now in Atlanta, GA, Jason Hunter.




(Jason Hunter, in a rare photograph of him alone, not hugging someone! This was the ONLY alone photograph I could find on his whole website!)

FREE HUGS was inspired by founder Jason Hunter’s mother Mrs. Josephine Clayton Hunter who passed away in 2001. Sitting at his mother’s funeral service, Jason listened as almost every speaker shared how Mrs. Hunter loved hugging people and letting them know how much they matter. Touched by the speakers, Jason acted on this inspiration and walked the streets of his hometown, Miami’s South Beach, with a sign that simply stated “FREE HUGS”. Hence, FREE HUGS was born. Read more about them, here;

Free Hugs

As stated on the website, Research shows that we need at least three hugs a day to grow and become a better person. A hug is a universal symbol of support, concern, or just a way of saying, “I’m here and I matter.” They sell great t-shirts to promote their cause, that say “FREE HUGS we all need one”

Here in my fair adopted city, we have our huggers. The Youth Pastor from the other UMC church in town comes to mind; her “guys and dolls” love her hugs as much as they love her. She shows me through the power of her hugs how much she REALLY CARES about the people that she is talking with, and her hugs make you feel loved. Walk into any restaurant in this city, into any store, and every once in a while you'll witness some serious hugging going on. After church, be warned, my Yankee brothers and sisters, you may get hugged. It may be off putting to some, but to most, it is welcome and encouraged. Because, like the t-shirt says, "we all need one".

That is why people wait in line for hours for a hug from the Indian guru, Amma. Read about her here, Hugging saint is compassion in action

I am reminded of a line from the 2004 movie, “Crash”;

"It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know?
You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody
touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think
we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other,
just so we can feel something."

Well, we are certainly not L.A., but we still don’t often brush past each other, either in Wal-Mart or walking along a downtown street shopping. We are polite, we try not to get into each other’s spaces. And that is fine. I certainly appreciate that space from time to time. But, I need a hug some days… and, luckily, I have kids that will indulge me that hug when I ask for it. My friends are all very good at hugging, and I love them all for that. I also work at a very “hug-friendly” church, where it is common for our new minister to hug each person he greets when he arrives to work in the morning. And, being “Jana Banana” to many little friends in our fair city, I get my share of little people hugs a week.

But, I watch others pass my way. Alone. Could they by no fault of their own be raised by a family of non-huggers, or live for years at a time with no hugs at all? And I wonder… what would an invitation to a free hug do for them? Would it be banned by the Police Department? Would it be celebrated as another great thing by the always forward thinking Down Town Development folks?

What about inviting Jason Hunter and his team here to this city, maybe in conjunction with a Walk –a-Thon fundraiser for a worthy charity? I wrote to him via his site, (you can read an excerpt of my e-mail here, HugStories This is one hands-on guy that actually reads and responds to e-mails… here is an excerpt of his reply to me:

Hey Jana!!! Thank you so much for the kind words. I am going to post part of
your email on our "Hugstories" page. I would love to work with you on
planning a Free Hugs day there. That's one of the many things that we do.
And it shouldn't be that hard to work on it, since we are only one state over
from you. Also, thank you so much for writing about us in "Hartsville Today."
You ROCK!!!

We are not connected with Juann Mann, but he did email me once a long
time ago and said that he was going to do what he's doing. So in a way "yeah,"
because we did inspire him to do it. Well, I look forward to hearing from you
and I am so excited about possibly working with you. If you don't mind, please
send us a copy of the article that you will be writing.

Have a awesome rest of the day!!!

Your Friend,

Jason G. Hunter Founder/President Free Hugs LLC

This is my call to readers: if the video, and the website from Atlanta did indeed soften your heart, don’t resist the next time you feel the tiniest urge to hug someone. Your friendly hug may just be what that person needs most in the world, at that moment in time. And, it’s free.

I ordered a shirt, and will be dispensing some Jana Banana hugs soon...and, if you'd like to join me, let's bring some Free Hugs to our towns and cities!

My house

My house looks nothing like this.

but

I wish it did, because I would have big, fabulous parties
and have all my family live with me

and if we needed money, we'd just host another tour
or rent it out for weddings.

For now, I am cleaning up my messy, messy, messy house
while visions of the Biltmore dances in my head

Man of Toys

There are guardian angels. I feel that in my bones, and don’t doubt it one bit. There are also humans on earth that are angels in disguise. How do I know this to be true? I met one, several times. And to this day, I never knew his name.

Back in 1994, my family and I moved south- exactly 1000 miles away from my home in Bath, Maine. I had a two year old girl, and boys 3 and almost 6. I was 27 years old, and with the exception of college in Massachusetts and a few visits to NC, SC and FL, I had never lived away from my Mom very long. It was warm that that Christmas and New Years, which was a novelty. Then, it rained the entire month of February (or so it seemed) and I missed my Mom so much my heart broke each time I heard her voice.

One day, I bundled the kids into raincoats and L.L. Bean rubber boots and drove off to the post office to buy more stamps and mail some photos to Maine. My mind was concerned on unbuckling car seats and chasing little boys, so I never saw him approach until I heard, “Well, good morning, children!”

There before us stood a smiling older gentleman in a black coat and hat, smiling for all the world like a man standing in the sunshine rather than gray rain. His eyes twinkled, and looked at each child lovingly.

“I have something for you, if your mother allows…” and off he went towards his car.

I looked at my eldest son, as his green eyes sparkled in anticipation- ”Who’s that, Mum?”

I shrugged my shoulders, not sure what to make of this little man.

Over he walked with three stuffed animals under his coat, and handed a pink bear to my little girl on my hip, a blue bear to my three year old, and a green monkey to my kindergarten son.

They smiled and hugged their stuffed animals close, and all said an excited “Thank you!”

Needless to say, they talked about it the whole way home. My heavy heart, missing my home and my family was lifted, and I felt the warmth of a good deed.

This occurred several other times, once in the parking lot of Winn Dixie, once while eating at the buffet restaurant, and once more at the post office. My children never asked his name, and neither did I. I asked about him once or twice, and if I was told his name, I did not commit it to memory… I preferred to imagine him as an angel, a leprechaun, a magical man that seemed to appear out of thin air with a gift just when my spirit was lowest.

Twelve years later, I still get a sensation of a heart overflowing and tears in my eyes when I think of that man, and how his magical stuffed animals made my children feel so special, and made their mother believe in earth angels. I want to thank him somehow, honor his memory, and do good deeds in his name. Better than any greeting to a transplanted Yankee, that man made me feel welcome, and gave me the courage to bloom where I was planted.

I thought of him years later when I saw the film, “Pay it Forward”. Wouldn’t it be great to be remembered by people in such a wonderful way, for such kind deeds?

Bless you, Man of Toys, wherever you may be…. you’ll always live in my heart, among my fondest memories of living in the heart of the South.

hey, look up, my face is up here ^

Okay, I already know that I happen to have a larger chest.

I've known this since I was in 5th grade.

Sometimes I wear really baggy stuff so that it is not so noticeable.

Sometimes, I just throw on some clothes and it seems to be okay, then I get to work, or the store, or out anywhere and instead of looking at my eyes, people talk to my chest. Not just men, women included.

So, out comes the digital camera, just to see what it is that everyone is looking at:
I don't get it. Not like I am some kind of Victoria's Secret or Playboy girl with perfectly plastic breasts. These are the breasts of a woman that is 39, nursed three kids, and is pretty comfortable with herself. That doesn't necessarily want all the attention to be here, but is sick of wearing loose baggy clothing that makes me look like a farm woman from the 1800's.
So, look. I have breasts. I wear a bra all the time, even to bed, because I read long ago that Marilyn Monroe did that, that she swore by it...and I am fearful of having National Geographic breasts that hang low. So, is that vain? Probably. Does it work? Seems to have worked so far, they aren't too bad if I say so myself. Do I want to have people looking at my chest?

no.

What I would like them to do, is to ask me about this necklace.

I used to alternate wearing these pendants on a thin silver chain. Then one day, I decided to put them all on at one time and that is how they have stayed. They jingle jangle around, when I am nervous I play with them, when I am bored I finger them. 1. The center is a cross- not a crucifix, but a lovely, swirly cross. It reminds me that my faith is pure and beautiful. 2. Underneath it is a heart locket, with three flowers on it. It represents my heart, my love, my three children. 3. The final is a handmade pendant that I got for my birthday a few years ago from my daughter, a handblown clear bead with taupe and white polka dots and a lovely spiral. This represents my creativity and sense of humor. This necklace is what I want people to look at, to ask me about, to notice.

So, why do people look at breasts? They are there to nourish children, and really that is their only real function. They are sensual, and very pleasurable to the touch, which makes them sexual. Does that make people look because they are exhibiting a primal urge to be an infant again, or to procreate? Advertising studies have found that the female body enhances ads for both sexes of all ages, as it is intrinsically pleasing to the eye.

There is so much in the media this month for breast cancer awareness. If your read Louise Hay, that somehow we will ourselves to be ill and to have certain diseases...what does that say about the proliferance of breast culture in our country? Is it that we have more toxins over here, or is it that we as women are somehow not comfortable with our breasts, harbor conflicted feelings about our feminity, ourselves, our sexuality? Our very essence of what protrudes from our body, as our sex organs are hidden and protected.... our breasts are out there for view. Or to hide.

I kinda think we need to celebrate our bodies, breasts included. I am glad that mine were able to nourish my kids, and that they were healthy babies because of them. I used to be shy about them, but now I can just accept. I like 'em.

violette is my new hero

Who could love glitter even more than me? This lady.

I seriously love her, love her artwork, love her van, love her blog, she is effervescent and adorable and looking at her site just makes me smile.

Go see for yourself: Violette's Folk Art

cards

Try this: Lightworker Cards

Child of Hearts
Goldilocks

Goldilocks represents a child's curiosity, innocence, and eagerness while searching for a true sense of home, identity, and family ties. Goldilocks is the child in each of us, the Child of Hearts who gains a beautiful vision of another world.

When Goldilocks appears in your reading, open your childlike heart to the spirit of home and hearth. Be more accepting about a loved one's lifestyle. Explore your in depth feelings with a sense of exuberance and wonder. See the world from a new vantage point. Realize that the three bears' sense of organization and structure may reflect your own behavior patterns and crystalized habits. A guest or friend may be coming to visit you. Will you scare away your new companion or welcome the person with open arms?

Hmm. Very interesting thing to come upon this night. Cards are a cool oracle kind of thing if done in a lighthearted way. Some people get all serious about them, or think they are somehow bad or negative...but, they can be perfectly fine if used correctly. In my case, just as another way to tap into the collective unconsciousness to see what the universe is trying to tell me; messages about myself are all too often accurate. This is a fun one, too: Ask Fortuna