Morning Glory
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The sound of the wind,
the hawk calling on the morning hour
the land washed anew by last nights downpours
A fresh landscape of soft earth, a banquet for the early birds
I watch them feast from my outdoor room
We begin again.
About my friend Benny, with love and an apology by way of the "Dallas Buyers Club".
/Mr.Wonderful and I ventured out on a frigid night last week, to see "Dallas Buyers Club". I had told my girlfriends that I wouldn't want to see that movie, because I have a long standing "movie star crush" on Matthew McConaughey. I had seen some previews and heard about all the weight he lost for the part, and well, I like the plumper version of my man Matt better ! Nothing else was of interest to us at the little cinema down the street, so off we went. I am glad that I went. It was outstanding, disturbing but awesome. It took me back to that era in our country. When the fear of AIDS was sweeping our land, friends were "coming out of the closet" and my world was forever changed by the death of a dear sweet friend. He has been on my mind since seeing the movie, and this morning while working, Debussy's "clair de lune" came on my WIFI radio. I was transported back to a sweet memory of my old friend.
Back in the days when Benny would spend the weekends with our family. (My little brother Rich and my close friend Belinda, with Ben he was about sixteen here).
I met Benny when he was just fifteen years old and I was seventeen. He was a friend of a friend. My family quickly adopted him and soon he was spending weekends with us, we loved him and he loved us. He was magical and as he grew into a young man, he never lost that magic. When I think of him now, I think of how "Peter Pan" like he was. We did lots of stuff together, crazy, spur of the moment rides on his mini bike right down Dixie Highway for a late night Burger King run, the two of us laughing so hard. Later when he got a car, we jumped in his car now and then for mystery rides, destination unknown, landing in the Keys one night and camping on a picnic table under the stars.
Me and Ben dancing on the deck of his Dad's boat 1975.
When I married in the 70's he was in my wedding, later that year when my first pregnancy ended unexpectedly, he was comforting. I have always called that baby Benny, in my heart and mind. A year later I was in his wedding. Eleven Month's passed and Benny "came out" and changed his name to Bernie.
I need to back up here and tell you (if you don't already know) that I was raised in the church and later in my teens, in a Charismatic church, and so was Benny. We had that in common, along with a love of gardening, classical music, nature and shabby chic decor.
Bernie / Ben had made the most of his talent for gardening by becoming a professional onsite gardener for a couple who had a winter mansion in Palm Beach and one up north. (that's where I saw a real Picasso, outside of a museum!) He did all the decorating for their parties and special events with his magic at both of their residences.
In my experience in Christianity up until that point, this new life of his seemed so surreal. I just didn't have the tools to make it all work in my head. My world was very black and white. My heart was sick from worry with the thought "if he dies, will he go to hell ?" My man-child friend, my magic maker of all things fun in this cold, sometimes hard world.
Benny and I dancing at his wedding 1978. Not a good photo of us, but the only one I could find today.
He came to see me in the summer the year before he left us. He stayed in our house, he was still his sweet self, buying penny candy and silly toys for my girls. Some time later we found out that he had been diagnosed with full blown AIDS. This was at that time in the world that was the focus of the movie we saw the other night. The movie portrayed the feelings and attitudes at that time so well. I remember the fear. I remember the prejudice. I will never, ever forget because shamefully, I was part of it. We respond in crazy ways to the unknown. BAD CRAZY. Shameful crazy, hatefulness filled crazy. Last week I watched that played out on the screen and cried at the remembrance of it all. I wanted to slide down in the seat, because I saw myself there.
We got a call very late one night that Benny had passed away. The days that followed were a fog. Not knowing what to do with my grief and confusion.
I went to my designated volunteer day at the church I belonged to at that time. I asked to talk to a Pastor friend who had also known Benny for many years. He was very straight forward and to the point, "You are afraid Benny went to hell aren't you?" (Well, isn't that what I had been taught?) He quickly added, "I never once heard him deny Christ, or his belief in God. In fact, he continued his journey in Christianity. He continued to serve others, find a church that fit, and was caring and loving. Do you think that God met him at the door and said 'get out' ? No, No, I don't think so." I left comforted and reminded that no one really knows anyone's heart. None of us really knows what goes on inside the mind of another. The Bible instructs us that only God knows our heart. My Pastor was correct, my friend did continue in his devotion to his faith, he loved God with all his heart.
That's Ben at the estate he worked at in Palm Beach.
Years later and oh so many miles traveled in life, I know that I know, those words spoken to me that day would become my true north. I still hang on tightly to my belief in God. My belief that "GOD IS LOVE" as the Bible says, is the most simple doctrine of all. If I hold fast to that and let it be my example and guide, that is being true to my faith. How can I judge the heart of another?
I wish that I could tell him how sorry I am that I wasn't a better friend, that I am sorry for my lack of understanding, for judgments made way back when. I want to say that I didn't know how to love outside of my black and white lines and love him the way Christ loved. Maybe this post will let you know about how extraordinarily magical and goofy my friend Benny (Bernie) was, about how he loved his pet duck "Chuck" and the wonderland of gardens he created. I want you to know how I loved him.
One evening, long ago and far away, One winter night at a sleepover at Benny's..my heart was sad, the windows were open and the lace curtains billowed in the soft breeze, a candle was burning on the night stand. He put an old record album on the small stereo there in the corner. He said to me "you need this.." he turned up the volume and left the room, closing the door behind him. To this day, that's where you'll find me when Debussy's "Clair de Lune" is playing.
Small Stones
/A morning work of art displayed
dances of colorful beauty in flight
the morning aria fills the air !
The hawk cries out
deafening silence.
Sunday Morning's Morning Pages
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GOOD MORNING Mr.MAJESTIC !
new blooms after a stay at the spa.
Sunday Morning's Morning Pages..MEANWHILE BACK AT THE RANCH..I am back from our winter jaunt to Tennessee. Life goes on without you at the Little Yellow House. Flowers fried from frost bit the dust, Orchids hanging in my kitchen to escape the freeze we had before I left bloomed. They thought they were having a spa vacation ! A snake (adult sized Corn Snake) moved in to the garage, where my laundry room is. Sorry, no picture! My arms were full, and he/she was gently moved as I stepped on it's tail, slithering under Mr.Wonderful's work bench, to be revisited later, I'm sure.
Welcome to your newest home FIRE ANTS FROM HELL !
The on going battle with the FIRE ANTS FROM HELL progressed. I wasn't here to dump my coffee grounds around the collards every morning, so they have now taken up residence there. Coffee Grounds are a natural deterrent. (OUCH! I hate it when they get in my shoes!) The green Anole's that live on the back,back porch are still having their winter sleep in the little shed. BUT, Mr.Brown the Majestic who rules the lower regions of the back,back porch was sleeping under a cushion and quickly escaped a death due to large human rear yesterday, when I went out there to read.
Little webs everywhere !
AND THESE THINGS APPEARED..What appear to be tiny little Spider webs all over the yard. Not the hanging type (those are here too). No, these are ON the grass..here's a picture. I sincerely HOPE this is not a sign of things to come. I am less afraid of a snake in the laundry room than spiders around here ! Can you say "ARACHNOPHOPIA"? (extreme or irrational fear of SPIDERS) I can ! I've had it all my life. Please, please don't let this be a sign of a bumper crop this year ! We often have brown wolf spiders in the pool, where they belong, to be sucked down the drain THANK YOU.
Yes, yes, I know it's broken, but I hung it in the little shed anyway, "cause Mom's love to see their kids artwork, broken or other ! Check Out "LOST TRADER ART" on Facebook.
I am considering a move to the little shed for a writing spot. It shouldn't be too hard to do. I've used it for everything else from bike storage to party central. I am going to have house guests this winter. Friends wanting to escape their winter confinements. Why not share this beauty ? In the meantime, it will help to have a designated spot for silent typing. Any ideas you have would be welcome !
I hope you have a Happy Sunday filled with your own TOWANDATUDE, Many Blessings !
Welcome Winter Guests ! (The back Back Porch)
My Earliest Memory..(prompt for Write Tribe)
/Bright sun, the feel and smell of Coppertone being applied. My stuffed animal skunk tucked under my arm. Sand between my toes. Her smile and laugh, hair flying, bathing beauty. Me and Mom at Palm Beach 1958
The Silence of SNOW
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The beauty of silence.
I took a trip in the middle of this weeks snow fiasco that caught everyone in the south off guard. I know a lot of folks experienced some pretty traumatic things this week, from giving birth on the side of the highway, to car accidents and house fires. My prayers are with them. I was safe and sound and only ventured out a few times on the snow covered byways. It's always been a thrill for me to drive in the snow. It's been nice to get a small taste of it again.
For me, this past week has been one of silence mostly. I had forgotten about the silence that comes with snowfall. The stillness right in the middle of the world going on around you. As the flakes fall and the leaves left on the trees are silenced from rustling. The ground gets covered with a blanket of white that silences footsteps. Birds stand out now against the white backdrop. My mind goes back to the snow days and blizzards of my children's youth. When I was in my glory of making popcorn for the neighbor kids and movies played on our VCR. When they went back to school, again, there was that silence.
Silence is a good thing. I am not so quick to try and fill the void of sound as when I was younger. It's okay to be alone with me, no interruptions from TV or social media. It's good to be still and listen...And watch the snowflakes fall.
Prompt for "Small Stones"
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At daybreak
I open my eyes
to see the boy
I first opened my heart to
so long ago,
Now sleeping gently beside me
In the body of a man.
I Hope YOU Have a Happy Sunny Sunday.
/Happy Sunday out there ! We awoke this morning to temperatures well below normal for this part of the country. It was a whopping thirty two degrees at seven thirty when I dragged myself out of bed, thankful for Mr.Wonderful's decision to install carpet in the master bedroom when we renovated this house ! Now it's already a sunny sixty four out back, the beauty of south Florida living. I get just a taste of cold so that I keep loving the thrill of it when it happens here.
Male Painted Bunting on our bird bath a few years ago.
The female Painted Bunting, hiding from me in our bamboo near the feeder. The females in the past have been more green than this gal is.
Our annual winter yard guests, the Painted Buntings are back. I am always so overwhelmed at their stunning beauty. Their colors are so vibrant and breathtaking. What a treat they are to watch in the morning. I have made myself a sort of blind for observing them on the feeder. I know I looked pretty funny out there sitting in my lawn chair, hidden in the bushes, wearing my giant robe and flannel penguin jammies, coffee cup in one hand, camera in the other The P.B.'s are so shy, the slightest little noise sends them fleeing.
This Sunday, I'll be on the screen porch trying to master the challenges of my new Mac Book. I bought a "for dummies" book. Because it seems I fit into that category at ALL things technical in this era of life. I hope you enjoy your Sunday wherever you are and that it is a sunny TOWANDATUDE filled one for you.
Happy New Year Reader Friend.
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The little shed at Christmastime...
One of my "eighty something" friends, Miss Chris, whose story I shared with you about her days as a teenage girl in the Civil Air Patrol in the 1940's. She was my houseguest for a week in December.
I've been missing something since the eleventh day of December, the date of my last post. That was the day I began missing out on sitting down and writing something every day. The holidays and houseguests were full and wonderful, but something was missing. The thing I can liken it to, is my years of living in a northern climate where I could not garden all winter long. I continually felt as though an important part of myself was hibernating somewhere. That's the way the past month has been for me. There's been a yearning, like a little alarm going off in the back of my mind, "come back, sit down !". There's a music alarm that repeats early each morning with the time I should be sitting down to write. I have become so acutely aware of how important discipline is to any creative process, but now it seems more important as I grow older.
About eight years ago I set up a Blog that was just for my children. I called it "Mom's life lessons learned". That, as most of my writing endeavors have been over my adult life, was never completed. I started, stopped and quit. This TOWANDATUDE Blog adventure that I began last April has been just that, an adventure. It's been a learning experience. I've shared some memories and emotions, and I've come to know some amazing women of all ages, from young adventurous ladies just beginning their journey to eighty plus year old women, who have shared their stories with me. I have been in awe of all of you, and inspired. I have also revisited some lessons I thought I had learned long ago, but as with most lessons in life, we experience them again and again like an onion peel in a new and different way.
I've gotten to spend time with young women just beginning their life adventure !
I learned a lesson long ago when I was involved in the creative arts arena in my Pennsylvania and Hawaii life.When people allow you to view their artistic expression, whatever medium that may be, it's a bearing of their soul, a view inside their delicate self. They take a risk of how you will receive them.We must be so careful with our words and how we respond to these expressions. We have the power to build up and to tear down with our words. When I taught classes back in those days, I saw this so clearly that it frightened me of the delicate balance that my words held. I held the power to encourage or dash to smithereens their precious expression. I was overwhelmed with the privilege of viewing what seemed to be a sacred thing.
Fortunately for me, I had some incredible mentors in that season of my life, who taught by their extraordinary examples of leadership. My friend Lynne P. lead me through countless training and my (then) Pastor, Marcia S. gave me an apprenticeship in her Worship & Fine Arts office. Those women delivered me into the waiting arms of Rick & Judy Sorum in Hawaii, who extended so much trust to me with their students. It was in the arms of these individuals that I saw how delicate we humans are with our efforts to express ourselves. I left that life seventeen years ago, when my world took a U turn and I came back to Florida. Now with this blog I set out on a new creative endeavor. I won't lie to you, I've shed some tears a few times, that things haven't gone exactly as I'd hoped. But that's just my expectations presumed upon others, which at this point in the picture of life, I should know better about ! I've always wanted to possess that attitude of "who cares what they think?" but truth be told, none of us really mean that all the way through. I'm getting better though, and here's why...
A little coffee, and writing my "Morning Pages" It's a new year and I'll start again..
I LOVE THIS. I love this little blog! I love getting up early in the morning and writing my "Morning Pages" and sometimes seeing it come together in a story form for the Blog. I have a love-hate relationship with trying to learn how to navigate this website to send out these posts. I love sharing my pictures and my "Mom's Life Lessons Learned" under this TOWANDATUDE site with you. I love sharing my thoughts about what things feel like at this era of empty nests and hot flashes, it's good to know there are others out there sharing similar emotions. I love the challenge of "Writing Prompts" from writing groups I frequent online. I've missed it over the last month! Some friends from my past have joined with me and supported this adventure. It's been so lovely to have them back in my life, even though they are so far away, and I've made some new friends too, along the way.
Author Steven Pressfield asked readers in his book "THE WAR OF ART", if you knew that when you woke up in the morning you would be the last person on earth, what would be the one thing you would still get up and do, knowing that no one else would see it ? (forgive me for paraphrasing terribly S.P.) I knew instantly that I would still get up and write and garden, I answered without hesitation. That tells me that even if no one else goes with me, I'm still going forward, because this brings life to me. What about you ? What would be that thing you would do even if no one ever witnessed it ? It's a great question to ask ourselves isn't it ?
So, for this NEW YEAR, I will not subject myself to life without some form of artistic expression. I hope to continue to grow and evolve, expanding my ability and knowledge of this craft. My wish for you is that you will find a path that leads to your creative adventure. I wish too that you would share it with me, so that I can follow your journey. Many, many, blessings reader friend and Happy New Year !
Happy Happy New Year Reader Friend !
My Aunt Ora's Vanity. (prompt from Author Elizabeth Berg about a drawer from your youth)
/"If I were teaching a writing class today, I'd stand up tall in my blue polka-dot teacher dress and red lipstick and high heels and French twist and glasses on a chain (not really, that was just my fantasy outfit when I used to want to be a teacher)--anyway, I'd say, "Class? Today I want you to write an essay about the contents of a drawer. Yours, your mother's, a stranger's. Tell me about what you find in there that tells me about the person. And hurry up, because I want to read it."
I saw that post from a favorite Author, Elizabeth Berg on her Facebook page recently. My mind was immediately filled with the story of "My Aunt Ora's vanity".
There is a vanity in our master bedroom. It's from the 1940's. When I was a child it belonged to my favorite Aunt, Ora Rousseau. I used to go to her house and spend the night when I was in elementary school. I clearly recall standing in front of the mirror, in the little spot there where a chair should have been. In the large, deep, drawers there were treasures of fascination. A large wooden shoe resided in a bottom drawer. It had been found on the beach by my Uncle Kenneth (her husband) when he was a young boy. I always wondered where that shoe had come from. Had a sailor on a ship out in the ocean drowned and his wooden shoe had washed ashore ? It was so worn and smooth, from a time spent in the ocean. It had crude metal studs on the bottom which served as heels. In the left top drawer resided his little tiny leather Testament, with his name written inside & "U.S.S. Tallapoosa". A picture of him in his Navy Uniform tucked in the cover.
The wooden shoe, Uncle Ken's New Testament and some old photo's of the family home on Boynton Beach Florida.
My favorite thing when I was young, was Aunt Ora's "Pop-Beads". She kept them in a top drawer on the right hand side. There were various colors. I was allowed to play with these. I'd make necklaces and bracelets in all sizes, alternating colors and adorning myself and Aunt Ora with my creations.
Aunt Ora and Uncle Ken were my favorite people in the world. They married in their thirties. They never were able to have children and I was their godchild. He was a retired Postal Carrier, she had been a seamstress. Ken raised orchids and Ora loved to knit. She was always dressed to the nines, subtle, yet stunning. She wore red lipstick that had a little dip on her top lip, sort of Lucille Ball style. Her pumps, earrings and broach always coordinated with the dress she had fashioned for herself on her WHITE Co. sewing machine. He always had on a dress shirt and frequently a tie. They were involved in our family's Methodist Church where we were "Charter Members" (as I often heard my Grandmother say). He headed up the search committee for their first Pastor and secured the purchase of the land where our little group met outside for the first few years. Under a pair of huge Ficus trees, the little congregation sang hymns acappella and shared lunch after service. Later, my Uncle would head up the "Methodist Men" and was instrumental in bringing the first YMCA to our hometown.
I continued to be close to them even in my rebellious teenage years. I would spend the night now and then. When I was about twenty years old, I had one of those moments in life where time seemed to stand still. It has stayed with me all these years. I was helping my Uncle Ken paint his front walkway and steps in "institutional green" as was popular in South Florida at that time. I ended up with paint all over my feet. Uncle Ken came walking toward me with a rag and can of turpentine. He knelt down, took my foot in his hand and began to wash it. I had this feeling in my gut. It's hard to explain. This man exemplified the Christ I had been raised to believe in. He walked out the principals of the Bible stories of my youth daily. I knew this was the closest I would come on this earth to having my feet washed like Christ had washed those of his disciples. That little snapshot remains in my mind's eye. He passed away a year later.
Kenneth Rousseau, 1919. U.S.Navy
When I was getting married Aunt Ora fashioned my wedding dress and with blue floss, embroidered her name and date inside a facing. When I began having children she made my girls little rompers and dresses. My Aunt Ora was my little girls favorite too. I had moved away from Florida, but returned home twice a year. We would stay with her so that my girls could spend time with her. They became the pillagers of the old vanity, the lovers of her "Pop beads". When Aunt Ora passed away, I gave a eulogy at her funeral and told the stories of her life. After the service, I was invited by her attorney to come inside the house and take the things that were meaningful to me. The vanity and it's contents, along with a set of antique bent wood dining chairs from my Uncle's family home now belonged to me, to take to my home. The wooden shoe, his little testament, their "Cokesbury Hymnal" and many pictures of my Uncle's family home by the ocean in Boynton Beach, Florida where the old wooden shoe had been found, were all still hiding there in the drawers of the vanity.
When I was in my forties, I met up with an old friend from my childhood. He began talking about my Aunt Ora and Uncle Ken. He told me about a time when he was a child and his Father had suffered a heart attack. His Dad had his own plumbing business, so when he was out of work, things had become destitute for his family. My friend told me how he clearly remembered my Aunt and Uncle bringing groceries to their house every week. He said that if it wouldn't have been for them they would've been without food. These are the things that they did with no one the wiser. It speaks of who they were and how they walked out their Faith.
Memories of my childhood weekends spent with them, come flooding back to me, when I open the drawers. I hold the shoe and wonder about the original owner from far across the sea who wore it. I imagine my Uncle playing on the beach as a child and discovering it. Now the vanity, it's treasures and I, have come full circle. I came back to south Florida to live and dragged the old vanity and it's contents with me. I am seated at one of the old bent wood dining chairs to write this story. The story of the favorite drawer of my childhood, for your prompt Elizabeth Berg.
Ken and Ora Rousseau as I remember them best in the 1960's.
A Little Birthday Post...
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I set my feet on the path to fifty eight this week. Fifty eight. Wow. Those things that you hear older folks saying "but I'm still sixteen inside here" turns out to be true, sort of. I am the person with the long term memory in my circle, I can tell you anything you want to know about times long ago (but don't ask me about last week!)
I carry mental snapshots of cutoff jeans, halter tops and hot sultry days in the Florida sunshine walking to the beach with my girlfriends. I can describe to you the way the white soft powdery shell rock streets of my youth felt like beneath my bare feet. A mental photo book of my babies that comes with the sweet smell of the top of their head, as I nestled them in my arms rocking them to sleep. I still recall the sights and smells of the third world cities I've visited and the faces of the people I saw there. So many were smiling, laughing in the face of such poverty. The lush green, unlike anything I've ever seen, of the terraced hillsides in Thailand as we traveled to stay in a Mung village, where some of the people still wore their colorful native garb. The sound of the wind like I've never heard it before or since, when I stood on a cliff called "South Point" on the big Island of my beloved Hawaii and looked out as far as the eye could see on the Pacific Ocean.
…beauty peeks her head around the corner, bringing with her a whole new chapter, dispelling the shadow of despair.
My life has been full and glorious. I can honestly say that the beauty and miracles far out weigh any negative experiences. There have been "things" for sure, but even in heartache, beauty peeks her head around the darkest corner, bringing with her a whole new chapter, dispelling the shadow of despair. My heart aches at the memory of those who are gone from me, but then I recall a moment spent with them or the loveliness of their faces in my minds eye and sweetness fills that spot.
I write to you this morning with a heart filled with gratitude at the wonder and miracle of life. I open the door and look outside at the beauty of my garden, with the sun shining on my face, I take my first step out the door and on to the path that leads to fifty eight.
those same girls I used to walk to the beach with..
My sweet little boy long ago on the beach at Kailua Kona, HI
IT'S TOWANDAGAL AND THE TOWANDATUDE PAGES !
/Hello and Happy Friday ! I have taken a challenge this week to be part of a weekly writing prompt. Participants will be given a "prompt" and then asked to write about whatever the topic is and send it back. I am so excited to be part of this creative adventure weekly. THIS WEEK'S PROMPT is to "BLURB" yourself, like the blurb on the back of a book jacket that makes you want to read a novel. I was supposed to talk about my life, but I have been so inspired by all of you that I'm making it a BLURB about us gals with the TUDE ! SO HERE"S MY BLURB as I sent it back to them ! Have a wonderful weekend filled with TOWANDATUDE !
IT'S TOWANDAGAL and the TOWANDATUDE filled adventures of Women Young and Old as they follow the winding path through the maze of womanhood ! See them in action ! Read about their quest for a life filled with making their dreams come true ! THEY LAUGH, THEY CRY, AND THROUGH IT ALL THEY ARE TENACIOUS WOMEN WHO HAVE AWAKENED, POSSESSING STRENGTH AND INDEPENDENCE ! FOLLOW THEM AS THEY MAKE THEIR WAY IN THE WORLD AND EXUBERANTLY PURSUE THEIR DREAMS !
*used by permission from the author*
Out of Africa
/"You must not think that I feel in spite of it having ended in such defeat, that my 'life has been wasted' here or that I would exchange it with anyone I know"-Isak Dinesen- that quote came up this morning, it reminded me of my favorite movie. I wondered what your favorite movies are ? Take a second and tell me about them ! I'd love to hear from you on the Facebook Page or the Website. Meanwhile, here's mine.....
I Love the movie "OUT OF AFRICA". I have seen it a dozen times, have a good deal of the dialogue memorized, (the high points mostly) I own the soundtrack and if you are not careful you could get conned into watching it with me! It's the true story of a woman's quest to make it on her own in a foreign country, where the Good ole' boys club was the 'end all' word in everything. It was a time far away, but we ladies should never forget, it wasn't that long ago.
The author on her farm in Africa.
"I HAD A FARM IN AFRICA...." I love Karen Blixen's (aka; Isak Dinesen) spirit, coming out to Africa, sight unseen, attempting to grow a coffee crop, when they said it couldn't be done. In the end "There are things which cannot be carried through even with the good will of everybody concerned." She lost her farm, and packed it in, returning to Denmark. But not before she was invited to the boys "club" where women were not allowed, and given a farewell toast by all the old stinkers who had looked down their noses at her previously, as they lifted their glasses to show that she had gained their respect.
I have always been in love with that period in history. So this movie is an indulgence in that era for me. Meryl Streep was so awesome in her portrayal of Blixen. I loved her clothes, her house, the way it was decorated and of course, I especially loved the way Robert Redford said her name "Kar-in" (no surprise there!) The movie is a period piece, filled with girl power, romance, heart break, beautiful music, breathtaking scenery and some pretty profound poetic moments. The dialogue at those moments in the movie resonates so deeply with me. I love the last lines of the movie.....
Karen Blixen aka;Isak Dinesen photo by Peter Beard 1962
....“If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?”
― Karen Blixen
Over the years, I have read about her life, and how after she went back to Denmark she became a published author, beloved by many. Because she wrote under the pen name (among many other names) Isak Dinesen, people often thought the author was a man. I have compiled a few of her most famous quotes for you to savor and when you get a chance, I hope that you will read about her, and call me so we can re watch "OUT OF AFRICA"
“Difficult times have helped me to understand better than before how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way, and that so many things that one goes worrying about are of no importance whatsoever.”
― Karen Blixen
“We must leave our mark on life while we have it in our power.”
― Karen Blixen
“It is more than their land that you take away from the people whose native land you take. It is their past as well, their roots and their identity. If you take away the things that they have been used to seeing, and will be expecting to see, you may, in a way, as well take out their eyes.”
― Karen Blixen
“All sorrows can be borne if you can put them into a story, or tell a story about them”
― Karen Blixen
IT'S TOWANDATUDE TUESDAY !! Meet Naomi Baxter
/When ladies of my age group were young girls we were fans of shows like "THAT GIRL" and later, "MARY TYLER MOORE". They were shows about women who had a dream, of going off to the BIG CITY and landing their "dream job". This TOWANDATUDE TUESDAY post is all about a girl who started off in a small town and over time followed her long awaited dream of moving to the BIG CITY. That's New York City !
Meet Naomi Baxter, a young woman in her early thirties. Naomi was born in a small town in Western Pennsylvania. Her Mom always said "she was born ready to drive! A real TOWANDA-Girl !"
When she was fourteen, Naomi's family packed up everything, rented out their home, and moved to the big island of Hawaii. Her parents were following their dream of working for a world wide mercy missions organization. It was something her parents had always meant to do, but life kept getting in the way. Naomi was right on board with her parents, excited to experience a great adventure, and they did just that! She attended (with her siblings) an international co-op school, along with children from several different countries. Naomi traveled to the Philippines and Thailand with her family. I asked her about her thoughts on that era of her life. "I was never 'sheltered' as a child, I feel like I was 'built' for it". Memories of riding on an elephant, eating ethnic foods and spending time in a "Mung" village in the mountains of Thailand, are just a few of the adventures she has. Her family would eventually move to Florida where she finished High School.
At sixteen, Naomi began an apprenticeship under a chef at a local restaurant. Over the years, being a chef has been a base line of employment that allowed her to try her hand at other creative avenues. A talented artist, she worked for a time in mural and faux painting, part of the team that did the walls, at the famous "SLOAN'S ICE CREAM" in downtown West Palm Beach, Florida. Naomi worked at ANTIQUE RESTORATION, where she learned to do things like refinishing furniture and rebuilding crumbling antique fountains.
The travel bug still sat on her shoulder, so in 2006 she traveled to Nevada for an amazing adventure to "BURNING MAN". It's an annual counter-culture festival in the Black Rock Desert which hosts as many as 50,000 attendees each year. She fell in love with it, and the creativity surrounding it. She is part of the group "The Sexy Tramp Camp". (their name is derived from having a trampoline at their camp for attendees to jump on) Each Burning Man visit, her group has a theme, and Naomi has made many of their costumes. Her first costumes were based on the video game "KATAMARI- DAMACY"..another year, the theme was "THE RACCOON PARTY PATROL". You guessed it, she was in full raccoon attire! Meanwhile, after returning home from the festival in 2007, she enrolled in THE CHAPMAN SCHOOL FOR SEAMANSHIP. Naomi was the ONLY female in class that semester. She graduated as the Valedictorian. She has what is called a "100 TON MASTER LICENSE".
In 2009, she traveled back to Burning Man with her gang of friends and did a cross country road trip afterward. When that trip was over, Naomi decided to go for it and follow her dream of living in New York City. On November 9, 2009 she moved to Brooklyn. Once again, falling back on her training, she worked as a personal chef for a time, while painting murals in private homes and working for the OSHKOSH Co. on the side. Naomi got to try her hand at many different things while at OSHKOSH, she says she "...did anything from organizing closets to wallpapering an office with denim!" She most recently began working at THE WORKROOM NYC, as "Shop Operations Manager".
Naomi says she loves life in New York., there is so much to do and see. Her band of BURNING MAN friends are a close knit second family to one another in their "home away from home". She is in love with Coney Island, and two winters ago, she joined THE POLAR BEARS CLUB. They meet up at the beach on Coney Island and go for a winter dips in the ocean ! When she isn't swimming in the frosty surf, you'll find her participating in SANTA CON, an event that takes place each year, where hundreds of folks dressed like Santa descend on the city. Or, THE SWEETS PARADE where you might see her dressed as an OOMPA-LOOMPA !
Whatever she does and wherever she goes, BEAUTY, LAUGHTER, FUN AND A WHOLE LOT OF "TOWANDATUDE" ARE SURE TO FOLLOW !
Meet Jennifer Fritts. A Young Woman living a Towandatude filled life !
/Meet Jennifer Fritts, soon to be twenty five. She's a Towandatude filled gal! When she's not working her "day job" at a nuclear power plant, she's taking trapeze lessons or traveling the globe. Have a little read and feel inspired !
Jennifer graduated this past spring from Indian River State College in Florida. She studied in their Advanced Technology Program, majoring in "Radiation Protection". She is now a contractor for nuclear power plants. She will be traveling for the first three years of her new career, all over the US and possibly other countries. Jenn will be working what they call "outages" it's when they shut down the reactor to do maintenance on the plant. As a radiation protection worker, she measures the radiation levels to make sure it's safe for the workers to be in the area where they will be working. Jenn says she originally was in school for teaching, but changed her career choice because ".. working in the nuclear field, I can work eight months out of the year, then have time off to travel and explore. It always allows me to be a strong female in a predominantly male dominated field".
She loves traveling, exploring, snorkeling, skydiving and paddle boarding. "Anything that I can get my hands on, I'll try at least once! Last year, I got to try the trapeze and that was super fun and different. I am an adrenaline junkie, I like pushing myself to the limits!"
This young woman has been to Mexico, Panama, Costa Rica, Puerto Rico, France and Spain. "This past summer, I booked a trip to Switzerland, two weeks before the flight. A friend was going alone on a trip there, I had been saving to buy a new car, I made the decision to take that money, buy a ticket and go ! It was the most liberating experience! My friend got there the week before me. I flew in, bought a train pass and off we went! Each day, we picked where we wanted to go and just went. We went to Zurich, Lauterbrunnen, Interlaken, Geneva and Zermatt. We went skydiving, watched base jumpers and we even went to a music festival. We had no plans the whole trip and by just 'going with the flow', we found and made the best experiences ever!" Jenn can't wait to go traveling again.
Jennifer loves spending time with her family, when she's not working a seventy two hour work week at the power plant. She especially enjoys hanging out with her six year old niece Hannah. "When I'm not at a plant, I waitress at The Dune Dog Cafe". She has worked there for the past 3 years, working and putting herself through college. She plans on going back to work there after the current nuclear power plant outage that she's working at "... and maybe after another vacation!"
What an bundle of energy ! You're doing it Jennifer ! Keep living a TOWANDATUDE filled life !
A little montage of a TOWANDATUDE filled life !
TWO FOR TOWANDATUDE TUESDAY !
/IT's TOWANDATUDE TUESDAY ! Here's TWO TOWANDATUDE filled Gals to inspire you.
Meet Tiffany Lacasse Johnseon, in the center of some TOWANDATUDE filled Girl Pals. Last weekend she married her childhood sweetheart Lance. Tiffany is a Powerhouse Gal ! During the week she's an elementary school teacher and on the weekends she's a lifeguard at the local beaches. In the summertime Tiffany helps to run local surf camps and junior lifeguard camps. Keep Up The Good Work Tiffany!
HERE'S HANNAH ! Hannah is a TOWANDATUDE filled wife, artist and home school educator to her two children. She and her family recently embarked on a journey in foster parenting. In a recent conversation with Hannah, she shared her passion for life with me. "....there is such a need for people to be available to one another, that's not being co-dependent it's the message of the Gospel. Are we to be an island surrounded by our 'boundaries'? What kind of life is that ?" Thanks for the "food for thought" Hannah !
The Unspeakable Word
/PLEASE, please note : If you are faint of heart, if you don't like reading about real things, that happen to people with real lives, please look away. I am certain there is a blog out there tailor made just for people from your point of reference. You will feel more comfortable there & will not have to concern yourself with critiquing my unpleasant real life stories in your social media feed. God Bless you.
I have not been writing much lately. I have been spending a lot of time on the phone, listening. A tidal wave has come to visit our world. The "D" word, the unspeakable word, is coming to claim more victims. A riptide has engulfed us. Much conversation, tears, anger, (oh the anger !) disappointment and suffering have recently invaded our family and extended family.
Over the years I have noticed that life is an ONION PEEL. If we allow it to be. Layers are torn away as tragedy strikes and we are softened. What we once thought was an ABSOLUTE in our belief system, becomes a SOMETIMES and we can relate better to our fellow man. Because we learn that life is not certain, there are NO guarantees and stuff just happens.
THE "D" WORD. In my childhood this word was never spoken. What had happened to my parents and our little family was never spoken of. There was a pact made between my Mother and the southern ladies in our family (and let me tell you, there was a big bunch of 'em) that it would NOT be talked about and it most certainly was NOT. (This would lead me to much therapy over my adult life) But honestly, who knew what to do at that time ? In those days, "D" just didn't happen with the frequency that it does now. (The odds are about 80% now that your marriage will fail). I was an oddity at seven years old. No one knew what to do with us, my baby brother and me. I was the kid with a mom who couldn't come to after school events and my brother was the only kid at Cub Scouts whose big sister helped him make his Pinewood Derby car with a steak knife. (MAN that thing was UGLY). And see, what I just did? That is exactly what I've been noticing. We all lapse into that moment of how THE "D" WORD effected us. All the sudden you are back at that moment, realizing that the door to those memories was left ajar and you've stepped through it, onto the shore with so many others.
The emotion comes rolling through like a giant wave that knocks your feet out from under you. Now you are rolling in the surf, your suit filling with sand and small shells from a past you thought you were healed from. That is what has been happening here in my world. I have been on the phone listening to the waves of loved ones lives, being dashed against the rocks. Their souls torn open, their raw hearts exposed. I'm listening to their gut wrenching cries as they fight against the undertow, coming up for air,"Oh my God, how could this happen ? How could they do this ?" Worlds of hopes and dreams are now scattered in the surf. It's floating there adrift, as the future they thought they would have, slowly, ever so slowly, is gone from us. Not just from them, but from all of us who believed we would see it with them. There I am on the shore, the beachcomber. Picking up the broken shells of my own life, my own memories of what that tempest can do to a soul. I watch and listen, as waves smack against the shore. I wonder how anyone can really help.
In the last weeks I have heard my silent parents speak of that time in our lives. I've heard anger from one who was never angry and remorse from the one who always seemed angry. (Curious what age does to us) A few times I found myself telling pieces of my own story, finding that the seashells left by my own D word are still stuck there in my soul. I have been crying. I've caught myself feeling a little anger. So many tides have come and gone and still bits of my life float there, just beneath the surface of the waves. Our own dreams of what would have been, still barely visible as they drift out on the tide. Bumping up against so many others. Those of my friends and their former spouses and their children. Now all of our grandchildren bob about in that swirling wave, forced to learn that life is not absolute and the one true constant thing in this life is change.
So I am taking phone calls, texts and emails. I realize that I have become a store house of their emotions, of secrets told. I try to keep together who I am allowed to tell what to, and decide for the most part it will stay right here with me, sister-mom-daughter-friend. I am holding their fragile lives close to me, loving and hurting. We are hanging on to a life preserver together as we float about in the frothy surf. Suddenly I realize that my onion peel has lost a few more layers, my heart is exposed and I stand and cry with them on the shoreline. The wind whips at our lives as we stand here together. We dig our toes deep into the sand. We link our arms as this wave comes at us, to change what we thought WOULD BE.
K.L..P.10/16/13
It's TOWANDATUDE TUESDAY Meet Candy Elmore
/It's TOWANDATUDE TUESDAY. Many of us are facing the challenges that come with aging parents. I've spoken with several friends that have had to put their parents in nursing homes and the heartbreak of what that entailed. One of my dear friends of many years is caring for her Mother at home. This Tuesday I share her story with you.
Meet Candy Elmore who is caring for her Mother Chris who has Alzheimer's disease. Candy is sixty years old, and has been married to her husband Gary for fifteen years. Between them they share six children and thirteen grandchildren. Candy and Gary moved from Texas to Kodiak Alaska in 2007 to pastor a church there. When she is there, Candy has a part time job as a preschool teacher.
Candy's mom Christine (Chris) was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease in 2008. Candy's daughter and her husband had been living with and caring for her for two years. In 2011 as the disease progressed, Chris needed full time care. Candy and Gary had made a promise to Candy's Dad when he was alive, that they would always take care of Chris. So the couple made the decision that Candy would take a leave of absence from her job and go to Florida (where she was originally from) to stay with her Mother, and Gary would stay on in Alaska. They would have to work out the details along the way. Two years have passed, with trial and error, heartache and many blessings.
"Research has shown that 'FAMILIARITY REPLACES MEMORY' in Alzheimer's patients, so we want to keep Mom living in her own home as long as possible. It's hard to watch your parents health failing." Chris is still pretty active, although she is now losing her eye sight. The Mother and daughter duo have shared some amazing road trips to visit Chris's Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren in other states, who wouldn't have gotten to spend time with her and know her otherwise. An example of this happened last year, when Candy's daughter in law became ill and needed an extended stay in the hospital. Candy and Chris drove to North Carolina to care for the children. This incident helped Candy to see a bigger picture in all this. "If I was home in Kodiak, that trip never would've happened, it would've been impossible." Instead, beautiful memories were made for the children, of a special time they spent with their grandmother and great grandmother.
I asked Candy about how she keeps her spirits up in the midst of what would seem like a crisis for most of us. "I have found for Gary and I, that planning ahead, knowing that we have a date coming up when we will see each other is best. When I first came to Florida to care for Mom, I left things open ended. That wasn't good for me, I struggled with feelings of being displaced from my life with Gary in Kodiak." She says that it took six month's to accept her "new normal". Now, Candy and Gary try to have trips planned to see each other, so there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Candy says that it's important for the "caregiver to make some 'time out' for themselves, many caregivers get burned out." Also, to "try and maintain your interests and hobbies". Candy loves photography and digital scrap booking, preserving memories for her loved ones. When she is home in Alaska, she enjoys hiking.
Candy told me of a book that she read when she first began caring for her Mother full time that helped her a lot, ONE THOUSAND GIFTS by Ann Voskamp, "dare to live fully right where you are". She says that the book helped her to put everything into perspective.
One of Candy's favorite quotes is by Mother Theresa, "God does not command that we do great things, only little things with great love." I see my friend walking that out in her life every day with so much love and TOWANDATUDE. Loving her family and friends and making memories while she makes the most of a difficult situation.
"referrals and recommendations come straight from over 14 years of expertise and experience and not from a list of commission fee based incentives."
Candy and Gary at home in Alaska.
Candy and Chris in Kodiak. *photo by Jaime Kujala*
Sometimes you just have to adjust one little thing
/**This Blog Post is dedicated to my daughters, who live their lives with more TOWANDATUDE than anyone I know. They inspire me every day.
I have a rosebush in my garden. It sits over by the little shed and is pretty much a non-producer, only two to four blooms a week. I am not the kind of gardener who likes to fuss with prima donna plants. Don't be asking me to fertilize or dead head you, because I am not interested. So the rosebush and I co-exist without much interaction. Which is a not at all unlike my relationships with high maintenance anything, plant's, people, or cars.
The other day, I got out my bright blue hand cart and moved the giant terracotta pot that houses her royal highness (said rosebush) to a location in my little herb garden under the pergola. Low and behold, two days later that bush was maxed out with blooms ! It's so pretty. That pot has been sitting over at the corner of the cutie patootie potting shed for the last two years and I did just one little tweak and there ya go, BLOOMS, ROSES ! Who knew ? Well, you knew I was going somewhere with all this, because you are perceptive that way and I am predictable if nothing else, so here comes my metaphor. Go get your coffee cup.
I don't know how you are, but I'd like to think I'm pretty transparent. Having been told this by a number of friends and family members over the years and not in a positive light I might add. They've said things like "You are transparent to a fault" "Your facial expressions are a dead giveaway" and "With you, what ya see is what ya get" you get my drift. So, I'm going to be upfront and transparent here and say that sometimes I can get "THE BLUE FUNK", a friend labeled this for me back in my Pennsylvania years. Not long ago, a series of built up disappointments in my world and in the life of a loved one was causing me to frequent the Scott tissue box. It was time to revisit my magic formula for combating disappointment.
1). I have to release others from my expectations. A friend said to me recently that "EXPECTATION BREEDS RESENTMENT". When I presume my expectations on others I'm headed for disaster. No one knows (unless I tell them) what I'm expecting, and what I'm expecting is MY thing, not necessarily their way of thinking at all. This kind of expectation is pretty self centered. It seems that SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO GO YOUR OWN WAY AND YOU HAVE TO GO IT ALONE. Maybe the ones who began your journey with you, won't be the ones who show up at all. JUST KEEP ON WALKING, PUSHING YOUR HAND CART AND ROSE BUSH.....
2). I heard Dr.Fuchsia Pickett speak when she was in her eighties. (Look her up, pretty cool Towandatude filled story) When asked, "How do you know what you are supposed to do in life? How do you get going when you're stuck?" her reply was to "GO BACK TO THE LAST PLACE YOU HEARD GOD'S VOICE AND START AGAIN".
We all have those moments where we cease to BLOOM and the BLUE FUNK overtakes us and it all goes downhill, (if you don't you're probably from another planet and not meant to be reading this Blog) In these times of BLUE, I go out to the back porch, have a little quiet time and try to think, "What was my intention ? Where was I going with all this anyway? What did I know in my 'knower' (that place deep inside where I am true to myself) that I was setting out to do?" I go back to that first step on the journey to my goal and start again, with a little tweaking usually. I move that terracotta pot just a little one way or the other and there it is. My course is adjusted, my navigation is set and I start again...
Then, all at once the roses bloom and all it took was a little tweak. I smell the roses, put the hand cart away and walk on alone, without expectation of anyone but myself and my intention to do that thing, the thing I know to be true to myself and what I know in my "knower" to do, and to do it with all the TOWANDATUDE I've got.
BE ENCOURAGED TO LIVE THE LIFE YOU KNOW YOU WERE MEANT TO LIVE AND ALWAYS BE TRUE TO YOU. May you be filled with your very own TOWANDATUDE !
Below, the two women who inspire me every single day, and their grateful Mom.
