Always A Parade Of Choices

  The year is quickly winding down, with Happy New Year right around midnight.
   Seldom have I ever seen the New Year come in, so I celebrate at the wee hours of the morning with New Zealand!
   I have no hangover, and my resolutions have already been broken. It is a glorious new year, this 2014!!
   If I can be serious, which is doubtful, the year in review is too taxing. I just look forward. Of course we had some moments worthy of shouting for Joy, but to be honest, I think that should be a daily thing. You see I believe we march in a parade of choices, and I choose joy everyday. By no means, is this easy, but it is my choice.
   Life is often hard, but there is joy to be found. My sweet mother reminded me yesterday about the acorns in Yardley (my first home) ( with husband!) and how beautiful they were!! I smiled at the text. One, Iam so thankful my mom is so "with it" and can text! and Second, that we both have such fond memories of my first home, her first grandchildren, my babies. Memories just flood over you during the holidays, and can drown you, or keep you afloat, your choice.
  This time of year, I celebrate my OCD with taking the Christmas decorations down, day after! Alleluia, for Daddy( Homer) being impatient and liking things cleaned up! and for all my children helping with the hoopla! ( note:thankful for good meds)
  Soooo...thankful for good presents, and for my family listening to my requests, and knowing what I like. ( note to self, you did a good job on a couple of presents for yourself Bon-Bon!) Oh the Joys of giving.
 My entire family gave money this year to my great niece Kayden's school. She is limited in many ways, and oozes love in other ways. She has never spoken a word, and may never utter one, but she speaks volumes. She is our Christmas angel, and brings nothing but Joy to all.
   Yes there were bad things, unspeakable heartaches, that we just have to release to the heavens.
   I choose faith, I have to.
  2014 will be filled with some of the same, a life well lived.
  A parade of choices, and by damn I am riding on the biggest float!!! my choice.
  Happy New Year my friends, love, love  and more love.

Where is Dick Van Dyke?

 As I sit at my computer, I hear noises. The chimney man, not Dick, is busy cleaning our two fireplaces. I wanted him to come in singing, like Dick, but he is carrying a shop-vac!! Where are the poles, with the wire brushes, ( Bill said he saw them??) and his black waistcoat. Chim-chim-cheree, where is Dick Van Dyke?

Another of my astonishing realizations today, was, Beauty Parlor Hair looks better then real life hair. I have always known, but after my hair-do girl! Ms. Dena fixed me today, I sing her praises, and think...if I won the lottery, I would have Beauty Parlor Hair, daily!! That is at the top of my list!!!

My other none ah-ha moment!! today, was really two.
       1. I do not enjoy watching people space walk, for hours repairing a flying space station. ( Bill is still glued to the TV!, he just said, "Did  you see that big thing they are trying to place?( that makes no sense to me) and one astronaut has cold feet!" ) ( Sweet baby Jesus, open the wine!)
       2. NSA, that is all over the news. The NSA is listening to all of our calls, since the dawn of discovery, and people are all outs of sorts!  I told my Bill, that I hope they are listening and maybe they can start answering the phone, and record a message for voice mail. I don't do anything wrong, or hide anything, I blog!! Its all out there! How can the government catch bad people, if they don't listen. My grandmother had a party line, she did not care who listened and neither do I.What does NSA stand for?? National Security Agency? I feel secure, in fact can you call and make my next gyno appointment.

Well, its noon- ish and  Dick has gone. I did not even get to take a picture, for my blog, he was so fast. To be honest, something was missing, so its just as well.
Chim-chim-cheroo.....you will  be singing this song all afternoon......

My Ducks Are In Different States

   Honestly, this time of year, seems like others may have their ducks in a row, but honey mine are in different states!!!
   I have post-its on top of post-its!! and yet...there seems to be so much to do.
   My thoughts earlier, were that I was on top of my game.
   Then life says, "Not so fast sister!"
   I have gifts all over the house, that need to be wrapped, not sure of what is what, or who gets what?? That is always a surprise. I think, all is finished, when I spin it all around the Jingle Bells in my head, and decide..maybe I need to buy extra blah-blah-blah.
    To shop or let the roof man in, call the chimney sweep, call the floor people, wash clothes, what's for supper, do my blog about reading!! Now I remember why I sat down at this computer!!
    My reading log, that I like to share, seems as scattered as B-Bs hitting a blackboard. ( This happened in 10th grade English class, Von Dohlen, remember? poor teacher)( then you threw her briefcase out the window!!) ( Boys!!) ( but thanks for the story material)
   Back to the point, or pretty near it.
   Forever I find time to read. November and December books are a crazy mix, to go along with my mood swings! Oh the holidays!!!
    Body of Work: Meditation on Mortality from the Human Anatomy Lab-Christine Montross
    Time is a River-Mary Alice Monroe ( About fly fishing!!) 
     We Are Water: A Novel-Wally Lamb
     Reflections on the Psalms-C.S. Lewis
     Quotes on Poets and Poetry-Patty Crowe
     Long Walk to Freedom-Nelson Mandela
     Conversations with Myself-Nelson Mandela
     The House I Loved-Tatiana de Rosnay ( still reading)
     The Valley of Amazement- Amy Tan ( will start soon!!)

   I cannot or will not talk about them all, I know you are busy. I will say that if you love the human body, like I do, and are interested in how we work, this book is fantastic. Body of Work takes you into the anatomy lab, and inch by inch, cuts us up, examines the workings of our earthly body, through the lens of new medical students.
  Second, the book about fly fishing is a book about life, love and healing. I don't fish, nor do I plan on fishing in the future, but I continue to want to learn about everything, so why not!!! It was, Time is a River,very rich.
  I did not have an easy time getting through the Mandela books, but at this time of his passing, I felt I needed to know the man more. What better way to learn, I have not found one, Read, Read, Read.
  C. S. Lewis is not easy to navigate, but well worth your time, to learn about the Psalms, just so powerful.
Now you can see, from the Psalms to Anatomy, to Fly fishing and much more, I was all over the page! with these books. No pattern for my picks, just to learn.
  The big lesson, is learning to carve out some time in the day, for reading and reflecting and rest.
  That is my holiday wish for you, to find a spot and do what fills you up.
   We all have to make our own peace.
    Peace and Love
    B

Nine Days, Rain

   The days seem to hang in the air, when its raining for nine days.
   Rationally, I know, I could be knee deep in snow, instead of knee deep in the holidays with wet feet!
   When it rains it pours, is my December.
    Decorations up, cards mailed, 90 percent of shopping done, and yet??

    Singing Christmas carols loud and proud, hasn't done the trick.
    AND you know I can not leave it alone, and toss in this gloom, I want answers and solutions.
    I know I need sunshine, but sometimes it just is not in the cards.

    So I eat much fruit, exercise and count my blessings, with a grumpy cat face!

    I think Mr. Mandela passing, helped me and maybe not.
    The kids came over and said, "I knew you would be watching this mom!" and I did. For many hours, and it was a happy grief. Happy for him, and happy that I had lived on earth with him. I read and re-read many books by him, and thought about his courage. He probably never complained about the rain, I just know it.
I woke Bill up at night with questions, " How did he come out of prison not hating?" I could not wrap my head around such a person. Bill of course turned away from me, hmm...and said, " He was Nelson Mandela, Bonnie, go to sleep." Then ever so quietly, " Bill are you still asleep? wonder how much it would cost to fly over there?" and " Where will all of the people go to the bathroom?" Bill sighs, " You are not going, you hate crowds, and there will not be enough bathrooms!" I sigh, " I know, but your job is to comfort me, and realize that this is history in the making, and my heart hurts." He covered up my shoulders, knowing that would make me happy, and said, " The funeral comes on at 4am, see you there." Counting my blessings, so happy we have always been early risers, and I will have Bill to attend the funeral with me.
    We listened and barely heard what was going on, but I wanted Mr. Mandela to know I cared, that he was important in my life.
     I can not understand what he went through, and how on the other side of pain and isolation, found a peace. I hope he saw many happy days, in his long life, and knows how much he meant to the world.
    He said it best, that he was not a saint but a sinner, trying to do right.
  
    I hope to learn from him, how to not let a little rain dampen my spirit.

    From many miles away, I say good-bye Madiba

Bye Bye Birdie

    The day after Thanksgiving, is always "up the tree" day. All the boxes have been brought up, and are ready to be unlatched. A Baron tradition remains, with maybe a fewer boxes each year. ( my kids would say that is a not true statement! since they carry the jewels upstairs)
    However, you know me by now, or have known me for YEARS, all my ducks have to be in a row, before I can begin. So...I begin to clean the outside windows...yes Christmas lights need to shine through clean windows, makes perfect sense to me. The cleaner is sprayed( note this is early, and I'm wrapped in a robe, with summer gown on) (short gown, due to my issues with claustrophobia problems with clothes, another blog, for sure) and I hear a thud. A bird has hit the windows. This often happens this time of year, with the pear trees dropping their berries. I continued to spray, singing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful", when I hear flapping. I turned and the bird was alive, broken wing fluttering, going under Emma's car. Double damn, why didn't it just die. My plan for Christmas is stopped, mid-spray.
    I yelled for Emma or Bill, preferably both, to come help this bird, I did not want Emma to run over it and freak her out. I just wanted it moved to the grass, to evaluate the injury and send it on to meet Jesus. I asked Dr. Bill if he thought we could duck tape the wing? He went into the garage to get a shovel, when I evil eyed him, " I know you are not going to hit this bird in the head, right before I begin to decorate for Christmas?"
Emma said, " Mom, let's help it, which means me." I decided to just put it in the grass, birds die quickly. Put a few leaves around it, so the hawk could not see it, and went about my Ho, Ho, Ho.

  Couple of hours later, Emma says, " MOM, the bird is still alive, you have to do something!"
I go outside ( now dressed, yea!) and told the bird, " Now I have to feed you, and worry about you." I went in to get a bowl of water, that I dripped on some leaves, and started to collect some berries off the ground, and move them closer to the bird. " You are welcome." yes, I talk to the animals!
  Many hours later, our yard men, (whom we adore) were blowing all of the leaves away, when Her Majesty
Emma, screamed, " Mom the bird!"
   Oh my god, I go outside and ask the man, to stop the blowing. God love him, he speaks a little English, " We have an injured bird over here, and I want it to die in peace, so don't blow this side of the yard." He smiled and went into the back yard. Bill returns home and wonders why half of the yard is not clean, or cut, I just pointed " The Bird."
   I hand feed the bird three blue berries, and call it a night. At least he will die with a full tummy.
   Next morning the bird is still flapping, I throw out pecans and more berries, think about making a nest out of newspaper, and look at this bird in the eyes, saying he can go. Maybe its trying to tell me something, a sign, my family now refuses to come in the front door, for the bird is now close to the walkway. I tell them, birds die quickly??!!!
    Hours later, moving people were delivering some furniture for us. They walked past the bird, and stopped. One man, picked up the bird, and said, " It has a broken wing and a broken leg." OK, and it is still alive, what am I going to do. Emma begins to look up vets that take care of birds, and finds one. Bill is now looking at me in a panic, with eyes that say, " This is a wild, bird Bonnie" So I told, Em, that we are not going to be able to save this creature, but we will make it happy and safe.
  Today is Monday, the bird has died, on his back, like a person!! The bird lived three days!
  Why? Why not? She ate like a queen, got all kinds of attention and left on her own terms.
  The Christmas decorations did get arranged, they look beautiful.
   We will remember this Christmas year, with thoughts of our friend, the bird and all the people who were so kind to let her die with peace.
    Peace is important, the song says so, Sleep in hea -ven- ly peace  (Silent Night)

    

And A Dog Shall Lead Us

    I have just returned from the church of Starbucks, with eggnog latte, the size of my left thigh!! and a Christmas Album, by Mary J Blige, thank you Jesus.
    Just about ready to get my Christmas cards started, but I had to set the stage.
    Ready, set, begin.....well now I am distracted, and have to sip and sing!
I have had several blogs in my head, so maybe I had better jot it down. These days you never know when the thoughts will just leave your body, like a demon! Poof, gone and then you look around to see if indeed your head turned like in the Exorcist!
     My blog for this perfect day, is about Lucy.
     Lucy Mae Baron, our black lab, that rescued my family.
     When we lost our beloved son to the chains of drugs, we died with him. I know we all have grieved differently, but all was lost. Our boy, grandchild, brother, uncle, cousin, friend. These fall days, that are so special to so many, makes it harder for me to breathe.
   There was a time, the first two years, that I woke Bill up on many occasions and asked him to take me to the nut house. Whatever you call a place for "Crazy", I need to go. I could not see how I could continue to live. Bill, in his calm way, his only way, would say, " What could they do with you?" "For You?" I had no answer, then he would just pat my back. This was just too much, and I was going to a place of no return, I had to get busy.
   I began to look for a dog, Yes we needed a dog. Something we could love and take care of, who needed us. Who would allow me to think of something else, beside how much I hurt.
  The family was not fully in my corner. Forever we have had animals, but at this time, we were dog-free.
  They were probably thinking it would be too much of a burden for me, I was unable to care for myself  or others, how could I take care of a dog!! They should have known me by now, I was getting a dog, period. I had a plan.
   Went online and did my research. I needed a smart dog, truly I was not in any shape to train a dog. Little did I know that she would train me. Miss Lucy would give us hope for another day, make us get up and take her out, play with this puppy, give us some relief from this horrible pain.
   This black lab angel dog, came to stay and lead us out of the deep hole of grief. ( I just screamed shi*, fu*k, while Mary J was singing, NOEL!!! my computer went blank, and I lost it!!) ( Now I have returned to my holy place!!)
  Bill walks Lucy, Hart plays ball with her, Emma takes up the slack and I get to love her, as we all do.
 I am thankful for this gift, who sheds all over, weighs a ton, and loves us to pieces.
 She is out back right now, hunting down her squirrel friends, and then will sit at my feet while I get my cards ready.
  Grateful and lucky, that's me.

  

Enormously Full

  Dreary Saturday, full of blessings.
  My cup runs over, with gifts galore.
  So I shall take a moment to reflect, and pass it on.

  You know where I sit, and write. I have shown you the left side, and behind me, also on the table with me.

This is on the floor, to my right. The wooden tool box, is very old and marked with 'tool history'. I believe I purchased it in Yardley, Pa. at a big flea market. Of course it called my name, and I have hauled it to Georgia. This jewel holds my wine bottles, that I like to glance at it. I pick wine out by the labels, not by taste.
I like wine, don't love it, but the labels..of course speak to me. ( Bought one the other day, called Bitches and Witches, that is just too good not to have!) ( The plant in the photo, just comes inside during the winter, its just visiting for the moment!!)
  Something else, I love is how the sun shines in this, my spot.
I think your spot is important, and I love mine. ( also love shutters, my Auntie Frances had shutters in her bedroom, that I remember as a child.)

Is that not amazing, serene and peaceful. Surround yourself with things that speak to you, and be aware of the light. Its a beautiful thing.

Now you see several angles of my gratitude! I share this with few, but if you are reading this blog, we are almost!!!!intimate. You know my secrets, or a few.
    This gloomy day, with football on all TVs, dog is asleep AGAIN, cats are asleep Again(animals have a great life, many naps! then eat!) Adult children, are hanging out, Husband has done grocery store stuff, and I have a date with some girlfriends to see Sir Elton John tonight.
  Life is good, think that should go on a shirt?( oh yea, already done!!)
  Life is.....life, as per Homer!
  Life is enormously full, at least in my spot.

Thankful for the Years

  I guess most generations think theirs has been the best.
  My years have been so full, and so wonderful to live in. My mom would probably argue this fact. Times they were a changing and I was right in the middle of it. I went from Madras to bra burning in a wink of an eye. A buttoned up cardigan, to long skirts and beads.
 I was a child in 52, and by 63 my world was shattered.
 Fear of communism and death hovered ever so closely, with the drills in elementary school. Anxiety was my partner in life, and then the president was shot.
 My mom, ran to our school, and into my room , crying telling Mr. Edwards that the president was shot, I don't think she used the word dead. ( we did not use the word pregnant either!!) I went home. It was quiet in our house, and things proceeded as usual. Kids did not ask questions, and barely watched any news. However I watched my parents faces, and I could not breathe. I remember blowing kisses to God, every night, so that maybe my family would be safe from whomever these bad people were. I was all of 11, mom still picked out my clothes, and I grew up really fast after that day.
 I was never a little girl again, my heart hurt and I could not process what had happened.
 My mom ordered a book, with all the details and photographs of the time. I devoured it, and have to this day.
 Just fifty years ago, seems so near and real, yet I know time has continued.
   Iam so thankful that I keep things, that help mold me. The book, The Torch Is Passed, has been dragged out every year, and I run my fingers over the pages. My children have sat with me, going over how young their mommy was!! Emma sat and briefly watched Killing Kennedy with Bill and I last night. Her biggest thought , mom was in elementary school and dad was a senior in high school, " That is just wrong!!" to quote my child with devil horns!! " Why do you watch this sad stuff?" said Lucifers angel. "IT IS MY LIFE, MY WHOLE LIFE changed that day!" quietly speaking to my love child.

   Your generation is you, all about you. We had big sorrows, and the Beatles. Music saved our soul, and of course organized religion ! We were from the south, religion is our bread and butter.
   The woman's movement and birth control changed my very being. These things were big, life altering wonderful happenings in my life. ( again Iam not so sure my mom would be on the birth control band wagon, back in the day. BUT she too has changed with the times, she rocks!) I am beyond proud to be a woman.

   This November, let us remember all the moments that changed us. Celebrate each year with Thanksgiving.
   Lucky am I, this I know.

Thankful for Pat

 On this Thursday afternoon, the sun has decided to peep out, and I began to stir.
 Normally I would leave my book reading until the end of the month, so I can fill you up, as books have filled me.
  This will not wait.
  So very thankful for Pat Conroy and his screwed up family. ( Note in my blog title, I use just his first name, I think we are cousins, or very close friends)
  I know in the past I have written about Pat, his way with language, reminds me of the smell of coffee in the morning. That first sip, warm java hitting your stomach, and then you breathe. Pat Conroy is one of our southern best. He is sweet tea with extra lemon, and a shot of white lightning.
 I do not under any circumstances understand how he has survived growing up, but I think writing saved him. At least it gave him some rope.
  The Death of Santini: The Story of a Father and His Son, is charming and undone.Exquisite prose, that comes from a hideous start.
 It helps if you have read his other books, you will understand his relationship with his family and how his life is the foundation of his work. He also refers to his family history as a wound, that he remembers even from diapers. Fascinating horror that produces this master writer.
  He describes his parents marriage as composed of terror and great violence, storm-tossed and seasoned with all the terrible salts of pain. ( He is a genius, a broken genius with words)
 Pat tells of love in his family that came to them veiled in disturbance-they had to learn it the hard way, cutting away the spoilage like bruises on a pear. ( The poet in him speaks volumes)
 When talking about his mom, whom he loved deeply, he said, "She could camouflage the blade of beauty in the folds of a matadors red cape." What a way to describe a women who could use silence to declaw her husband, her ungovernable husband! ( These are his words, not mine. I wish they were mine!)
 Here are a few more words about his mom.
      She lacked the quiet confidence that comes from the leisure and gracefulness of coming up right. Fashion and style were not tests you could study for. Your birthplace is your destiny and it hunts you down in whatever cotillion you've run to hide in-it is a bad tattoo that is defining, accurate, and irremovable.
   His mom lived in southern shame, and married a mean man. Their family was a vessel of pure madness(still his words, all of these are his words) The Depression pollinated every corner of her personality with the dark ash of insecurity she would take to her grave.( lord have mercy)
  Hard to believe that the book is Mr. Conroys goodbye to his demons. He lays out the family tree, and all of its badly lit crazy people, and forgives and closes those chapters.
  His father, whom I met at a book signing years ago, was the most horrible parent. He was a Marine fighter pilot, need I say more. Seriously these children should have gone to foster homes, years ago, but that was back in the day, where all was swept under the rugs. Mental illness, beatings, verbal abuse, sexual abuse, all lay under the rugs in many households. The Conroys, are in a league of their own.
  From the Chicago Irish Catholic, to the Alabama snake handlers, this combo, this DNA was toxic and yet..
Pat Conroy's words.
   He dedicated this book to his brothers and sisters, who knew how bad it really was.
 Out of the pain, comes......its all about choices.
  Thankful for my Pat, and his stories.

With Gratitude

  November rolls along with much gratitude.
  To say I have the best friends, does not do them justice. Iam so thankful for my friends, near and far.
   Just this week, Sunday night and Tuesday night, I supped with the girls. Bistro Nikko and  Marlowes were so lucky to have us. We talk and talk and talk, and throw some food down. It is always my pleasure to be surrounded by beautiful, strong, funny women. I love them all, even better then the concert that some of us watched. I will say, Allison and I had the best seats in the house to see House!

and as I write, I must note that my number four son is sitting across the table from me, eating, and of course not talking to me, because Iam working!! Its fun to have him home, in the middle of the day. He is moving into a new condo, and taking everything in my house that is not tied down!! So this is not a relaxed blog, I have to keep my eyes on him, like a hawk! precious adult children????

 There are a couple of things I want to lift up to my blessings, my sea glass, from Lucie Hamner. Also my daddy's canes, from Homer! two things I can see as I type, that touch my heart.

Mrs. Hamner bought me sea glass that she collected off the coast of Washington state. Each summer I would beg her for some, so it became a treat that for many years, she would pass on to me. I love each piece, I have turned them all over in my hand a million times. It fascinates me. One year for my August birthday there was a bag of something on my front porch, just a brown bag. I was hesitant to open it, but what the heck...it was full of sea glass from Lucy, no note, just my bag of glass. I will cherish the pieces of glass and our friendship. ( She now lives on "Glass Beach" in Washington) She taught me so much. So thankful.

I get to look at my sea glass while I type, but I confess I have to turn my head to see daddy's canes going up the back stairs. Those are Ward's stairs that lead to his bedroom, I do not think any of us use those stairs, they are solely his. Guess they will be always be his. I thought my daddy's canes would help Ward travel the stairs if he ever chooses to visit. ( I guess spirits don't need walking sticks, but he would appreciate the thought of pop-pops many collections, on his walking path)

I never allowed guns, even toy ones in my house,so I would tell the kids, to just grab a stick. Multiple uses, for intruders, or each other!! just watch out for eyeballs!! ( Note: no intruders ever, or sticks used on each other!!) My dad had hip replacement surgery starting in his early fifties. He had many, and required walking canes, he never found the right one. Lucky me, I get them all, and love them so much. Thanks dad for being particular to the point of hoarding canes, your number one daughter is thankful!

Those are my joys of the day, plus a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, gosh you forget how good that taste.
With gratitude.

Surround Yourself with Love

 Love encircles me, it is a well thought out plan.
 You cannot come into my home, and not see me.
  My joy is in every nook and cranny. Mixed in with animals, children, a hubs, great crazy love surrounds me.
        This November, I will take you through my home, and share some of my favorites things. This is the season to be thankful. You know that I adore my children, love my Bill, and pamper my animals, as if, they were all royalty. When in fact, the queen always rules! You would think that would be enough, all these jewels in my crown, but....I like my castle to have a little bit of my love, with stuff that will make this queen happy so I can share my love with all my subjects, I mean family members!
     You know I sit in my kitchen to write my blog, I love my spot!! In our big family, five kids, two adults and a cast of animals through the years, I have always had a spot. You have to carve out your spot, and put up a sign! No one talks to me, when I write or read. Mom is in her spot, is serious!! I am so very thankful for my area, and that my family has given me space of my own.

This is what I see , to the left of where I am sitting right now. I love it!! My marbles in this vase!! It may represent the marbles I have lost over the years, or just that I like to collect things that are not used much anymore. I feel sad, that marbles are a thing of the past. A game of long ago, and they deserve some love.
The vase, I bought at an antique store, and it is heavy and deep, not sure what it was used for. I put flowers in it once, and the vase overpowered the flowers, so I let the vase be on its on. It is a piece of art, sitting on a treasure.

It sits on top of an old card catalog case, I bought  in Vermont. I miss libraries and looking up where a book may be on the shelf. I wish that I had an entire wall of card catalog boxes.When the kids were little, they all had a drawer, to keep their secret stuff. If you look closely Hart's name is still on the left, bottom drawer. Lord knows what is in there, something special, I hope.    So thankful on this Sunday morning, for a couple of neat objects, a spot to think and a family for letting me read, write and buy fun things.
   More to come.....

Most of the Time

     I think on any given Sunday, we seldom connect all the dots.
     My dad would say, "Its just life, Bonnie."
Well life is a full cup of poison, most of the time. You have to not drink from the cup, or rinse the damn cup out!
     A friend of mine, who lost her daughter recently, has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Of course, I don't get it. There should be a set of rules, that when you lose a child, you are done with things that hurt you.
But then, it is just life, in a nut shell.
What to say and do?
I went to buy a scarf, earrings and a make-up bag. I want her to look darling, when she feels beat down. Chemo, the cup of poison, heals and hurts. How can you hurt anymore? My heart aches, I will get this package in the mail, with my love and kisses.
    You know, if you read my blog, that the end of the month is book time. Or as I like to call it, My drug of choice, books.
 I read three this month, really four, but only one I will brag about.
 French Dirt by Richard Goodman - about a garden in the south of France. Love France, love gardens end of review!

Think Jung! How I Found Meaning in My Life-by Paul Marshall Wortman- I love the search.

Stitches, A Handbook on Meaning, Hope and Repair by Anne LaMott- she is one of my favorite authors, and this book will take you about an hour to read. I will say that I highlighted so much of the book, that I lost the flow. So I read again. ( I also recommended this book to my friend who I talked about earlier, it calls her name) It will probably speak to you all. It is about life, and the ride. She talks about how easy it is to stay on track when we are feeling full of goodness. Then what happens when things fall apart, and they do, for all of us. Anne mentions solace in nature and art, and maybe if we are lucky, the quiet satisfaction of our home. ( theses three things have, and continue to keep me above water)
A couple of jewels are as follows: Ram Dass said that we're all just walking each other home. This is the sweetest thing I have ever read. The comfort that we can offer people, is like walking each other home. That is fantastic.
  Ms. Lamott speaks of feeling that we are barely pulling ourselves forward through a tight tunnel on a badly scraped-up elbow!! (Yikes! you feel that!!)( life is a beast, but hang on, get the bandages out!!)
 She also says we live stitch by stitch. (love that) and if you fixate on the big picture, the whole shebang, the overview, you miss the stitching!! ( pay attention!)
  Barry Lopez wrote, " All that is holding us together are stories and compassion.( You can tell Anne Lamott is a reader)
 She mentions that you never fully recover from some hurts. Then she says, that all you can do is say, "I get It" ( That is what I want to say, and it just doesn't come out of my mouth)
 Robert Burns said it best: " Life is but a day, at most."
(That kind of sounds like what my daddy said," Its just life Bonnie.")
"Without stitches, you just have rags. AND we are not rags!" says my author friend, Anne.
     We are precious beings, full of hope and heartache. That is me speaking now.
     Read this book, and think of my friend.
     Fill your cup with joy, and hold on. Lord its a crazy journey, but Iam loving it!!!

I Do Not Know the Date, but I Have a Plan B, C and D

 This bears repeating, October has been a warm biscuit kind of season in Atlanta.
I mentioned to my family, that I was sure that God was smiling at me, until we had a cold snap!
Last week, blankets were thrown over me, and I was shaking! My number four precious son?( I was being generous with precious on that day!) Hart said, " Mom, you need to move way down south, it is not that cold!"
   "HART..can you bring me some wood for the fireplace?" and " I have been saying that for years, Key West calls my name!"
 So what do we do, when it is winter in October? Go to the movies to see, 12 Years a Slave. Yes it was a good movie, and yes it had wonderful actors, BUT all I could see was the moss in the trees and the sweat soaked clothes of everyone who lived on the plantation. I could smell the humidity, and I felt alive and happy. When we left the movie, I was sure it had been filmed in my beloved south, when Bill said, " I think it was filmed in South Carolina or on a sound stage."
Husband, from Buffalo New York, I replied ever so sweetly, like fresh cut sugar cane, " Bill, that was filmed near a swamp and some long ass moss growing from those trees! that is deep in the belly, south." and " I will look it up when we get home." ( born researcher that I claim to be)
 We had not been home five minutes when, only daughter, sweet angel Emma hollered, " It was filmed in Louisiana, Mom!"
 Yes, in the Bayou, snake infested swamp, cotton picking state of crazy plantations and some wrong doing, for sure. I took a deep breath. Bill said, " You know your moss Bonnie" well now, " Thank you, Thank you ever so much!" but it remained cold in Johns Creek. However for a brief couple of hours, I was warm.
 Horrified of slavery, and the times but embraced by what I knew the south could be, one day, I hope.
The moss still holds some secrets, and pain from the past. The movie told the familiar story, that many choose to let lay in the history books. This story of Solomon, from 1853, had to be told. It is all of our history, and we hold our faults to the stars , so we can remember, never let that happen again.
I hope people see the film, and we continue to grow.
I have to admit, its my nature, that I think I would have been good at picking cotton. I like the way it feels coming off the plant, I like heat, and I love the songs of the black people. Its the white people who I would have had a problem with, I often have no filters when thinking and speaking, and don't take kindly to whips. My life would have been very short lived.
Bill says, " You thought all of this about the movie, during the movie!" and " because it was a cold day, it spoke to you?"
" Yes, I can not just see a movie, or read a book, or wake up each morning, I need a plan, A,B,C and maybe D" said I." You are a lucky man!"

Reginald Dwight and a Friend

       This past week I have noticed that Elton John has been on the morning shows.
       He has a new album out, The Diving Board.
       I half pay attention to morning TV, but I like to hear it going all over the house. I heard he was going to sing, and turned my eyes to the screen. The pianist was turning it out, once again, and I had to sit down.
His pudgy fingers effortlessly skim the keys, and make magic. I moved closer to the source. His voice, never perfect, has matured and is raspy well worn, Captain Fantastic!
     Later he played Rocket Man, and changed it up, until I thought I would faint. I held my heart with my hand, for this beautiful melodic memory of a song.
    He is a master with a friend.
    A person whom I have loved for so long, Bernie Taupin.
    This is the first album( I know its a CD or whatever they are called now, I happen to be stuck in the 60's)
since 2006 that they have collaborated on. My memory bank was flooded with emotions. Bernie and Elton, the lyricist, poet and the piano driven Sir.

                       -Its a little bit funny
                         this feeling inside...
    go ahead and sing the rest, It is Your Song
Another line from that song- If I were a sculptor, but then again, no- Bernie's lyrics are the finished art piece.
You can read his lyrics, as if, a book of poetry. Songs from my generation, into the now.
This duo, these minstrels tenderly and rambunctiously delivered something special to us.
They have done it again.
I may not have married a music man, but Sir Elton and Bernie have a piece of my heart.

Look Around You, Amazing!

     People ask me, how is retirement?
     I have to think long and hard, about an answer.
     My principal asked, and I said, " It is always the last day of school." I think that pretty much sums it up.
     Then as usual my crammed full brain, began to think.
     My first year of not having to be at work, was an adjustment. I missed all of my friends at work, and the very process of teaching children the ins and outs of middle school.
      As the second year, has come around, I feel much more at peace.
      Actually I feel thankful, and my plate is full.
      Time still escapes me, the days fly by, and I look for more hours.
      My desire to learn continues with a fever, and my search for joy is in every waking day.

     This October has been so delightful, and the sky, a color blue, that I have no words for. I was telling my beloved, Dr. Bill, many times over, had he seen the sky lately. I think he said yes? after 33 years of marriage, you pretend to hear each other. " Seriously, ( I mean business) have you seen it, look at these pictures I took today!" spoke I in my most gentle southern way?? I have lost him, so I go around the house to continue to enlighten him. " Bonnie, (that's me!) you have not seen the sky in years, you have been at work!" Bill answered from who knows where. Oh my, he is so right. ( That is just a thought, I would not say that out loud)
   Retirement has given me the opportunity while I still have a few brain cells left, to look around. I feel like a toddler, who is seeing things for the first time. My camera, and cell phone, travel in my pockets, I want to be ready! Just this weekend, I was at Home Depot buying mums and a tiny frog was just sitting. On my mum! I yelled at Emma, "Look, you never see this!" as I dropped my purse getting my camera out. I took the picture, and it was awesome. It was a moment of joy. I go into the store to pay for my flowers, and I proceed to tell the cash register lady about what happened, she wanted to see the picture. ( Em would tell you I forced it upon her, hmmm....) In her excitement, she said, " This picture is better than any I have seen in National Geographic!" I KNOW, you have to be ready to see the world. ( Picture is on Facebook, if you care to look)
  My senses are at 10+, things taste better, smell divine, music emits colors!!! ( I know all of this could be some drugs coming back to haunt me, if I had ever inhaled??!!) Those crazy 60 and 70s, lord that is a whole other story!!! Back to my blog!.
  In the fall last year, I was sitting in front of our bay window, my reading spot when I started to stare at the trees. They looked funny to me, something was amiss. I grabbed my camera, and carefully went to see what I was seeing, it was a squirrel blending in with the tree, wrapped in dead ivy vines. It was amazing!! nature in its glory and I have the time to see and do all!! Yes the laundry never goes away, and for some reason people still need to eat!  But time is on your side, you can lolly gag around and stuff gets done. That is the difference, I guess. Your pace of living is more of a stroll, instead of a full sprint.
  That my friends is retirement for me, just doing and being in the now.
Look Around, Amazing!
   Look close you will see the squirrel!!!

My Sixth Child

   Before I began to ramble, I encourage you to write down everything. Last week two titles, one of a book and one of a newspaper article, thrilled my soul! and are semi responsible for this next blog. ( The newspaper article was a book review, so both titles of books, sent me to Nirvana) I scribbled one on a scrap of paper that I use for my prayer jar, and the other I ripped out of the Sunday paper. ( we still get the real Sunday paper!) ( not for long, I am sure soon it will be read online!)
   The first book title, is Five Miles South of Peculiar! I have not a clue to what it is about, but you know I will read it!! Surely it is about Florida, guessing?? The next book title/newspaper review is Fringe Florida, another yummy adjective describing my sixth child, Florida.
  You see its like your children, you can call them crazy, off the charts, pains, but no one else can.
  Same with my beloved Florida. It is peculiar, to say the least. Different, is a understatement. Cast off of normalcy, yes BUT..it is my normal, all the crazies, I love it. My baby, my wonderland of fringe!
We are a different group, us Floridians. We are raised in humidity and insects, with Jesus being crucified a daily conversation. Homes on wheels and trucks with giant tires, scatter the landscape. Florida now has an overgrown population of boa constrictors, that is not anywhere near normal! Alligators can be in your backyard or on the golf course, and no one flinches. Palmetto bugs the size of small cats, live with us, bug control does not work. The weather is close to heaven, with a storm around the bend. Lighting is entertainment, along with freak shows at the fair. When asked as a young girl, " How was your date?" often the response was, " Fine, we just rode down main street!"  Your mother never had to question where you were, outside was the answer. Our weekends were at the beach, end of story.
  Weird resides in Florida, with wife beater shirts at football games considered dress up clothes, to cuts off being a staple! Moonshine and Moonpies, peanuts in your coke!, watermelon and fried chicken go down easy. We wake up with sunshine and orange trees, surrounded by oceans, so we look at Tiny Pete, the midget man at the fair, with baby fetuses in jars. We are the Fringe, thank you baby Jesus! Write it down, but don't say anything about my baby!
 
 
  

I Read Like the Ink From the Book is Oxygen, and I'm Gasping For Breath

      I do not know where the quote in my title came from, I just grabbed it and hung on.
When you read tons of material, and take notes, sometimes it becomes hard to remember where you found the words. So I give credit to whomever thought, and wrote the words in my title, and I thank them, for saying what I feel every day.
     Now that September has slipped away from me, without my sharing my book list, I will put September reads in October. I think we are only a few days into this October, but I have been known to be way off before!!
     I continue to read massive quantities of books, but the ones in September were fair. At this time in my life, I want over the top, take me to my knees, wonderful and these were so-so.. I certainly had a couple of very good and different reads, but to have four that I would caution people to read. Makes me sad. I still offer them up to any takers, because maybe you will find the jewels in one, that I did not see.
My September Book List, this 2013;
1. Maya's Notebook: A Novel by Isabel Allende.  This book started strong, and then I lost the characters charm. They became annoying, and I did not care what happened, but I stayed with it. Sigh...
Here are some of my highlighted lines, "Since we're going to suffer, lets clench our teeth," she said. Pain like that, pain of the soul, does not go away with remedies, therapy, or vacations; you simply endure it deep down, fully. ( I think I could have said that!) Another one, Both, destiny and genes, determine what we are, and cannot be changed;if the combination is virulent, we're fucked, but if not, we can exercise a certain amount of control over our own. ( I love long run on sentences!, and the word virulent!)
Of course there is more, but not loving this one so much.
2. Simple Dreams: A Musical Memoir by Linda Ronstadt; Horrible, I may never listen to her music again! I wanted juicy details, nothing, she gave up nothing! This one is not worth the time to download it.
3. Sister Mother Husband Dog by Delia Ephron; Anything by an Ephron sister, Iam reading. It was delicious. You be the judge! Denial was a talent she greatly admired. She could have been gentile, except, of course, she wasn't.( wonderful line of words)" Hazelnuts are what's wrong with Europe."( this just made me smile. All siblings have different parents. We were all born at different times in our parents marriage. (such truth in those words) The illness of alcoholism, sadly breeds a staggering self-absorption!( another truth) My sisters death brought death into the light of day, and at this age death feels like a car length behind( I love the Ephron women) A must read for women.
I also read Remembering Smell by Bonnie Blodgett, fascinating book, loved it.There are too many highlights, and I have forgot to number this book, I think its four!! and I do not feel like fixing it!! I will just write one,(maybe two) There is no word in any language specifically meant to describe the smell of an old sock!!( genius!) Especially in the spring, when the water of the lake is "suspended in sunlight, sharp as the breath of an animal." ( Beautiful)
5. ( my fatigue is waning!) Last on my list, was Being a Rockefeller, Becoming Myself by Eileen Rockefeller. It was history, and family and magnificent. Loved it. Again too many highlights to post, but...
Sometimes I find awareness in a single flower petal. If I stop to savor the spoon of its creamy flesh, the whole day blossoms, just like a peony. ( Yes, that is grand writing)
Rafts are good metaphors for life. The more buoyant the material, the easier it is to stay afloat. I learned that buoyancy has as much to do with attitude as equipment ( Lord, that is a fact!) ( and I am no Rockefeller!)
Long before I learned how to read words, I read emotions in my mother!!( wow!)
    Now you have a clue, about some of my September reading. I always like to end my blog month, letting you know whats out there in the world to read, and hoping that you will share with me, your finds along the way.
   Reading is so important, try it. Yes, I know there is dinner to make, and laundry to fold, you have to carve out some time to read. Its a balm, or a burden?? Your choice. Enjoy the journey.
  

Goldilocks and the Three Shoes

    All my life, I have loved shoes. I am pretty certain that most little girls have this habit.
    Growing up we had Sunday shoes, school shoes, tennis shoes (sneakers), and in Florida many flip-flops.
Normally these lasted you through the school year, there just was not much money floating around for extras.
I remember my first pumps, they were navy and pinched!! I know that you could not skate in most tennis shoes, that oxfords were better for keeping your skates tight around your toes. AND... if your mom caught you skating in school shoes, it was not going to be a happy day dance! so we all knew where the polish was located. My first pair of Weejuns and Lady Bostonians lasted me most of high school, and I wish I had them today. My loafers had pennies in them, and it was very cool, for awhile. In 6th grade I was playing Mrs. Santa Claus in our school play, and it was a prime role, mom splurged and bought me red, shinny flats. I was in high cotton!! until I wore them to show my Adah (Aunt Alice) and road home with dad in the truck! He turned the corner, and out I flew, dragging my red shoes down Pearl Street, and him holding my hand, until he could drag me back into the seat. ( Note he did not stop the truck!!) (Homer stories!) Mom could not console me, but with enough red shoe polish, I was able to wear them, and of course shine in my part!!! You know I love the stage, even with scuffed up new shoes!!
    As I grew up and earned my money, I bought shoes for no reason. Monthly shoes, football game wearing shoes, date shoes, bedroom slipper shoes, nurse shoes, running/tennis shoes, hooker heels, the list is endless. I even had cowboy boots, in Florida?? with short legs, not a cute look, but I had them!
Flip flops, in every color, and some worn thin as paper, loved those shoes.
  You may wonder why this female rant about something so universal? Well recently I have seen my shoe fetish, dwindle. This alarms me. Just this week, I went on a shoe journey, and came back with Merrill slip on shoes. I have five pair of these shoes! They are not attractive but they are comfortable!! WHAT has happened? Never did I think I would choose comfort over cute!! I remember last year, just last year, buying several pairs of high heels, with no intention of wearing them, just to put them on around the house! I still had the desire to toot my own horn, in the confines of la casa!! To strut the cat walk, headed to the laundry room. Where is that women, I want her back.
   I broke my leg, a couple of years ago, and I think that pushed me towards, comfort in a big way. I walked all over Paris, and that continued to convince me, that comfort in shoes is a must. I just know Goldilocks knew when she found the stuff that was "just right!" Why do they have to look like mesh .....clod hoppers(is there such a word?)
  Do I have to give in to this aging process? Maybe if I could just put a cute bow on the top? I bought all the cute colors, but its the same orthopedic looking shoe.
  Oh the obstacles that face us, and cause me concern!
  Comfort has won, but I will not surrender....the search for cute is part of the fun!!

People Magnet?

 My mom and I have always laughed that we attract people.
 We are people magnets.
 We must ooze something that people see and say, "Let me just tell this person, my life story with many adjectives!"
 Most times, this is an utter joy, and gives me much needed material. Other times, I want people to be able to take facial cues, look at the big picture.
 On an airplane, my eyes are closed, I have earplugs in, and I am holding prayer beads. Does this scream, Talk To Me! Maybe I have a conversation aroma, that I am unaware of?
 Strangers talk to me, under the bathroom door, in many places. " Can you believe how long women have to wait in lines at the bathroom?" stranger is talking. I look around, and think, ( how do you make a thinking bubble on paper?), Maybe its a distant cousin, so of course I reply, "I know, flush!"
 This week was no different. I was at Piedmont Hospital, in the nuclear medicine department, with Emma for some tests. Emma and I both look anxious, the procedure will be three hours, she goes back. I pull out my Kindle and am sitting in a corner. Only one other person, is in the small, freezing waiting room. Its very quiet, when something bellows, " Are you having a procedure?"
 "No, my daughter." whispered I.
 Stranger Carol (yes she told me her name) proceeds, " Well I have had breast cancer, I have a pacemaker and I may have a blood clot!"
 " Oh my, I am so sorry, eyes go back to book." me reading.
 SC ( stranger Carol) moves closer, to continue about not having 92.00 dollars for a co-pay, and she goes to the hand sanitizer machine, to put the soap in her hair!!! not on her hands, her hair. I think she feels bad, because I have on lipstick. ( this is my thought process!!)
 SC has 63 years worth of family stories, to fill up at least two of my hours. She is a white racist, and a christian,( which I always find fascinating!), she always wanted children, and most of her family has been in jail. She has worked for the banking system for over twenty years, with many of those years being disabled due to bad things!!!!! I have placed my Kindle in my purse.
She goes back to her exam, and I sigh. So pitiful, and in pain, what a horrible combo. She has shared her life story with me, why?????
 SC comes out, and I speak, "Now you can go home."
 "Oh no, I have to wait" SC does not miss a beat.
 " I think I will need another Heart Cath, and those scare me, although......I did not bruise when they put the catheter in my groin, she points!" " Have you ate?" SC was thinking about me.
 " I am fine, thank you." me.
 Technician comes out, and says she can go.
 SC comes over to me, grabs me out of the chair, and hugs and kisses me, almost in the mouth!
 I tell her, I wish for her the best and remind her not to let her nephew crack head  move in with her.
She leaves.
Again, I smile, shaking my head and thinking, " Brain, I hope you took notes, because this is some good stuff!"

We never know, never, who we will meet up with in life. Also, we will never know this SC's heart, she just needed a listening ear.
Emma came out of her exam and looked at me, " Mom you look drained!"
" Stranger Carol...(Emma looked confused) lets get out of this place, hospitals make me sick!)
Like my mom says, " Bonnie we attract all kinds!! its  a gift??!!"

A gift with no return policy! Magnets, its a gift for sure!!!

Peter,Peter, Pumpkin Eater....

   Many years ago, when I was in Radiology Tech school, at Duval Medical Center,I began my issues with smells.( I make myself laugh! I don't know how I will connect this, but I will!) As a young student, taking care of sick people was new to me. In fact, seeing people naked was a new concept. Seeing poor people, ravaged by diseases that were new to me, eye opening. Working the ER, mind altering. I was like a sponge, soaking in all of the things associated with medicine, except for smells!
  There were no "plug-ins" back in the day. I think maybe the hospital, did not even have much in the line of air conditioning. Body odor, bodily fluids, feces, puke, car wreck smells, burnt skin, and my favorite, autopsy fun!
 My first trip to the county morgue, and the doctor told us to cram Vicks Vapor Rub in our nose? I smeared a little, as if I had the sniffles. The body we were to take the xray of, was a young man, who had been shot, and left in the Florida sunshine for about a week. They unzipped the bag, and I ran to grab the entire bottle of Vicks, which barely masked the decayed smell. Smells are huge, good and bad, and some will never leave you. This morgue visit, I'm talking about some forty years later.
 My first visit to the ER, was taking care of burn victims from Woodbine Georgia. Some kind of plant had blown up, and we received some of the people. I had burnt, dead skin on my shoes, and the smell is just as strong today as it was then. I went upstairs to the Radiologist office, and told him that I did not think this was for me, he smiled. He sent me back to the war zone, and I never let smells change my plan of action.

 However, I feel certain if places, like hospitals used the smell of pumpkin, people would heal better. Maybe even apples, the smell of Autumn. With all my serious thoughts, I believe this to be true.
Pumpkin pudding, pies, cookies, bread, just pause and sniff! You do not even have to like the taste, the smell, makes you take pause.
 There is pumpkin hand soap, lotions and potions!!, face masks, candles and sprays.
The color pumpkin, in nail polish and lipstick, to die for!
This time of the year, when summer leaves me wanting more, pumpkin saves me.
I had to pull over to the side of the road, last week, and hold my pumpkin latte from Starbucks in my hands, for a moment! I held it to my face, the warmth and the smell, thank you baby Jesus, for such a smell.
 If only this divine smell, was available in a jell form, back in my training days? I don't know, maybe I would not have gone back to the ER that day, I guess I had to learn. How would I know how such wonderful smells would touch me, if I had not smelled the worse? I will never know, I just think, pumpkin vs Vicks, Iam voting pumpkin!! (Hospitals, listen to me, I may be right!) and (by the way, it would not be a bad idea, to not paint hospitals the color of smashed peas either!)
  Life is so full of stories, I hope you write yours down.
I got to thinking about Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater
                                  Had a wife, but could not keep her!
He put her in a pumpkin shell, and she never left!!!
The smells of Fall, the smell of pumpkins, will heal you.
***Malia Bagdy, thank you from the bottom of my heart, for giving me your pumpkin pudding recipe. Thank you for making it for me for my Christmas present, you knew I loved it sooo much!!!

Yes, We Have No Bananas

  There are times in each of our lives, where the fork in the road, is covered in kudzu. So what do you do? Turn around, remove the choking vines, or plow through making a new path, because both forks, f*ck.
To turn around you see the same stuff, boring.
You know I will not go into any vines, scared of snakes.
At least a new path, you can skip the fu*ked fork, right!! (at some point I may have to write the word, the little asterisk is pissing me off!)
  August had me laying stones for a new road. My favorite month, had too many bumps and bruises. Sharp turns, steep cliffs, and a weary soul was I. Usually the Leo in me, holds court, not this August. I had to dig and keep digging to find my joy juice. I promise you each day there is so much happiness, just sometimes it is like Waldo, hard to find even in that stupid striped shirt.
The rain this summer, tried to override my meds, but a few good books saved the day.
Amy Falls Down by Jincy Willet
Zealot:Life and Times of Jesus by Reza Aslan
Hadol and Hyacinths: a Bipolar Life by Melody Moezzi ( Best title ever)
Reading restores me, educates me, and allows me to let you in on my secrets.

   Orange is the New Black, is downloaded on my Kindle. However, I decided to watch the first series , before I read the book. May be a first for me, and what a good choice. I enjoyed it so much, all the characters are prison delicious, and would make nurse Ratchett proud, or maybe annoyed?? The casting in the series is over the top, crazy good.

  We saw in August the movie, The Butler, that brought back so many memories. I have never understood why a persons skin color made any difference. I cried through most of the movie, remembering the times so vividly. I remember the day I drank out of the colored water fountain, and my cousin nearly died. I did not care, it was a stupid rule. I would have walked with Martin if I could have, I was too young, but maybe I wasn't. Those times made me the person I am today. A person where the content of your character, is what should be judged, NOT EVER the color of ones skin. A must see movie, for all, to see. I hope.

  Bruno I have written about, hope you have had a chance to read some of my few August blogs, I have been in a funk!
  The thing that saved me, and touched my very core of happy, was my banana tree. Yes, you never know what will just thrill you, but that tree carried me. One morning, I was in my yucky ways, making the bed, gathering clothes to wash, and I decided to open all the windows in my bedroom. The side windows, I seldom open, but this morning, I did and the beanstalk was there!! My banana tree was up to my window of our two story house, waving her hands at me. " Look at me Bonnie, how can you be sulking!" said my tree. I always share joy, so I yelled downstairs to hubby, " Bill, I need you to bring my camera and I need help!"
He is huffing up the stairs, "What is wrong?" (see negative energy)
" I need you to take off the window screen, so I can hang out of the window and take a good picture of my tree." OK, thanks dear. ( I did not say dear, but he knows I was thinking it??)
" How am I suppose to take out this screen, this high up?" spoke the chemist in him.
" I don't really care, bring it in, let it drop, I have been called to take this picture of joy and I NEED IT" said I in a much loving way. He did and I did, take the photo, and I look at it and smile.  You will see.
 Happiness is all around us, sometimes you loose a window screen, but its a new path and its a new month,
and Yes, We Have No Bananas, but we have a tree.

I Have Been to the Mountain Top!

  I know it has been fifty years since, my friend Martin, spoke to the crowds in Washington. I respect him and others who rode the bus, and walked the walk. However.....
  Occasionally I use the phrase, in the biblical sense. Like I have witnessed a miracle, or been to see Bruno Mars!
 I have been to the mountain top of Bruno Mars, and it was life altering.
( You can not compare Martin Luther Kings speech to Bruno Mars, but..... I am filled with the spirit, and it is my blog!)
  He spoke to me, his voice is perfect.
  He brings back Little Anthony to me, maybe some Smokey, Michael Jackson, and some New Orleans Jazz with some Memphis Blues thrown in. This small, young man, with a Mahalia Jackson volume, and sex oozing out of every pore. Marvin Gay would have a run for his money. This precious man?boy? sung his heart and other parts of his body out!! He is Gladys Knight and the Pips, he is mine! Old school and new wrapped up in glitter, yes he dropped gold glitter on the crowd towards the end. I held my hands to the heavens!
His band was fantastic, the lighting was the Matrix, and a single spotlight all at once. There was a screen behind him, that had all, from his old videos to giant parrots flying off the screen.

 We danced the night away, and sang each word. Bruno Mars is an entertainer, who would take a grenade for me!! Young and old, black and white, men and women filled the seats, and he put a spell on us.

I have been to the mountain top, and my preacher man Martin, would say, " and all my children shall hold hands!
and we did, united by music, we are beautiful, just ask Bruno!

Tangled Web of August

  Usually August is my favorite month, she holds me with her sweaty hands, and I pause.
  Not so much this sweet month of August, I feel like the fly in the spiders web. Stuck in some ways, not necessarily someones supper, but for sure trying to break loose!!
  My children's birthdays, and so many friends celebrating with me, the well wishes I hope have reached all.
  My Trip with Emma to Hilton Head, with a second trip to Jacksonville. Spun me deeper then I had intened.
  My mother has hurt her back, and daddy depends on mom, so off I went. Not sure of how to help, but thinking I could, somehow?? The web pulls in so many different directions, you try and go with the flow, until the spider starts to move! Then you need a plan, A,B, C and maybe D, because most spiders are not Charlotte.
  It is never easy to see your parents hurt, or age. I have been lucky to have so many good years, and my brothers that live near them. This visit I was caught, being a daughter and wanting to be a helper. My parents, 82 and independent, came to a bump in the road.
 We children have our ideas of what to do, how to help, but I don't think they are listening right now. That is OK, they are hurting and their minds are reeling. They may be stuck in that web also.
 August is testing me, teaching me to be a good listener, trying to communicate better, and loving my parents through this special time.
 It has also taught me to pack lightly, and be ready for anything.
 August rain has drenched my feet and soul, but she reminds me of all that is good.
 Faith is in knowing that I have no control. Who does, is what I know.
 While helping?? daddy burn garbage, yes I think it is not OK, I saw this spider in this web. I ran and got my camera and took several pictures. I was like a child, I ran back inside to show mom and dad, " Look at his beautiful spider web." They oooooo'd and ahhhhh'd , like I was five. I told them, I think there is a blog in here somewhere.
 I was right, there was.
 Perception and a plan, Iam not waiting for that spider.