Saturday, December 31, 2011


I came down from the North Carolina mountains to visit and was spending the night with one of my aunts. She had a boyfriend who was living with her. I didn't especially like him at all. He seemed so 'seedy'.

I was glad to see my aunt, though I suspect she was jealous of me and later... I found out that she was. I'm sorry she ever distrusted me... I wouldn't have hurt her in that way. This is the aunt who beat me and left a bad scratch on my right arm... I have that scar today. I never held that against her.

The next morning she got up and asked me to ride with her to the post office. I hadn't dressed and still had on my long nightgown and said I would stay there. I noticed she hesitated to leave and later I understood.. at that time I wasn't used to her distrusting me and... didn't catch on at that time.

While she was gone I went to the kitchen and I heard her boyfriend calling me by my 'family' name. 'Fay-eee, Fay-eeee'. I didn't feel good at all listening to 'how' he was saying it, not at all.

I stayed in the kitchen and asked what did he want and he asked me to come there. He wouldn't quit calling me and I was so nervous. I walked to their bedroom door and told him I wasn't coming in there and to quit calling me! He was still in bed and was trying to get me to come there. He was so disgusting.

I went back into the kitchen to wait until my aunt came home. Fay-eeee, Fay-eeeee, Fay-eee, come here! I prayed for my aunt to hurry and come home and... my prayers were answered. She came home and I could tell she'd been worried at 'what would happen while she was gone'.

I acted as if nothing happened, never telling her about her seedy boyfriend. I couldn't hurt her.... and I hadn't done anything wrong. In my 'family'.. no matter if you do nothing wrong you will be thought of as ... if you had.

I hate for someone to call me 'Faye'..... it never bodes well at all. Never.

It means I'm either in trouble.. or someone is going to cause me trouble. I don't trust anyone who calls me 'Faye'. Only a few cousins can do that and I don't mind... I call them by family names, too.

I have alot of 'Faye' stories... eventually I will tell alot of them.



Saturday, 31 December, 2011

The night was beautiful and the young teenage girl loved to walk under the big oak trees that lined either side of the street.

Don't step on the crack, you'll break your mama's back! She said this each time she came to a crack in the sidewalk. The thick tree limbs with their beautiful leaves were making shadows on the sidewalk and alot of places were .. dark areas.

She thought she heard a little sound and put it off to her imagination. Don't step on the crack, you'll break your mama's..... back! There it was again... she felt alarm and began to listen closely.

As she walked she changed her pace to see if she'd hear something other than her feet walking on the sidewalk.. she did! She clearly heard another person walking... walking in the dark behind her. She looked back and couldn't see anything and she began to run on the sidewalk to get home as fast as she could. She lived in town and so, she wasn't far from the house.

She could hear someone behind her .. also, running! She got to the corner where she needed to turn... and she heard it....

'Faye... Faye... Faye'... and it sounded like a familiar voice, but, who was it? Why were they chasing her? She waited though, she didn't know who it was.. yet. She had alot of young cousins who walked also, that was how teenagers did... they walked alot in town to get to their destinations. Her mother didn't have a car.

In the nightlight she saw a young, black male coming toward her and he was calling softly 'Faye... Faye... Faye'. She didn't know him and she was so afraid! She didn't wait for him to get to her and began to run up the street... it was uphill, but, she was strong and ... she was fast!

She kept running until she got to her yard and slowed down to walk into the house. She didn't want to alarm her mother who would make her quit walking if she knew she was afraid. As she walked toward the door to her home, she kept looking back to see if that guy was there! She didn't see him.

She walked into a spider web and instantly began violently shaking.. and almost went to pieces. She kept slapping and 'wiping' to make sure if there was a spider on her... she got it off of her. She couldn't stand a spider and ... she was already so afraid!

She calmed down enough to go inside, all the while watching all around her, hoping her mother wouldn't see how afraid she'd been. All she wanted to do was to go to her bedroom to be to herself.

She walked inside and her mom said 'Faye, what's wrong? You look as white as a sheet!' I told her that I'd just walked into a spider web and it scared me!

I never knew who that black guy was who called me by a name only 'family' knew me by. I've wondered through the years why he was following me and I didn't wait around to ask him why was he running behind me. Something kept urging me to not stand there and 'run!'

I was talking to Skip about this... this evening and was wondering what would have happened if I'd just stood there so innocently to wait for him to get to me? I do remember I was so afraid but, I was so confused.... by him calling me by my 'family's name' for me... it was so familiar that while he was in the dark, it caused me to slow down long enough............................ 'Faye... Faye... Faye'.

I feel cold chills now, thinking about it. It causes more memories to surface that has to do with 'Faye, Faye, Faye'. God, I hate that name. I associate it with danger, fear and not good things... not many 'good' things.

That night I was almost fooled into thinking a family member was calling my name... it may have been the last time I would hear 'Faye'. I was afraid after that to walk though I lived in town... when I had to, I was so alert.

I just wonder...... don't you ever look back and wonder 'what would have happened?' It's one of those things one never knows the answer to.... I can sense that I was in danger and did the right thing.

The strange thing was that for a moment I remember thinking that 'tomorrow someone is going to laugh at me for running'... I had alot of pride, but, thankfully... I didn't stay to hold my ground on that one. Normally, I would have.

I don't answer to 'Faye... Faye... Faye'... I am going to run like h_____! I still feel that creepy feeling these years later.

Don't call me 'Faye'.... please. I have several cousins who do it today and it's okay for them to... I don't feel anything 'bad' from them.

Just call me ... Gloria, or call me Granny Gee... I like those names and my son named me Granny Gee... so, that's so special to me now. 'Gloria... Gloria... Gloria'................ 'Granny Gee... Granny Gee... Granny Gee'. I just tried them out ... they don't hold anything that makes me feel anything 'bad' about them.

I will go on to write about my aunt's boyfriend calling me 'Faye... Faye... Faye'..................

A LIGHTED PATH... Light To My Path In The Dark

A LIGHTED PATH... Light To My Path In The Dark

Saturday, 31 December, 2011

I got up this morning and noticed through the blinds that it was still dark outside. I have nightlights throughout the house to have a comforting little path of light for me to walk on as I go anywhere in the house.

I walk out into the hall .. my path is lighted as I walk to the living room where........... it's so dark! I can't see where I'm walking now... my path is dark. The nightlight needs a new bulb. I don't like the dark.. no, not at all.

There 'are' things in the dark that ... could... reach out and touch you. They ...could be watching you... and you don't know it... you can't see in the dark. I'm afraid of the dark.

I'm comforted because I know our Pups are just fine.. they moved while they were asleep on our bed. I know that if something wasn't right... they would let me know and.. protect me. I protect our Pups ... our Pups protect us.

I turn from the door to the living room filing the thought in the back of my mind regarding that nightlight (fix it soon as you can!).. and walk into the door close by.. entering the kitchen. There's a nightlight in there.. there's also, a light switch to turn the light on.

Now... my world is lit up with comforting light. I've been thinking 'just alittle, not too much right now'... about why the darkness makes me uncomfortable.. and afraid.

At the old place we moved from... it wasn't dark because I had extra outside nightlights put up by the electric company. Everyone who saw our home up on that 'mountain' thought it looked like ... a UfO! They were placed in a 'triangle' around our home... I didn't plan for it to be like that! :)))) When one drove by at night... it looked like lots of homes were up there on that little mountain.

We lived in a forest and it was so, so dark up there... though, there was lots of light was still so dark just past the glows of light from the lights on the poles. Thankfully... here, where we moved in February to... we have lots of light all around... excepting the front of the house. I don't like that at all... it's so dark unless you stand outside and let your eyes adjust to the dark to see.

I don't like that the nightlight in my bathroom quit working.. the electrical outlet .. just simply quit working. My blue nightlight meant alot to me in the bathroom... it was comforting to look in my bathroom during the day, and at night... it added 'light to my path in the dark'.

Thankfully the living room there are two of four electrical outlets that work and I can keep a nightlight on in there. On the back porch there's an electrical outlet that has quit working... but, there is wonderful light there.

The light Skip had for his shop just quit working, also. I need to find out if the lights still automatically come on when we park in the stalls there.

I would have never noticed all of this.... but, I'm afraid of the dark... having a path of light to walk on .. means everything to me. I've been in the darkness many times in my life and I know what it feels like to be afraid.... to be really afraid... not just scared... but, to know real... fear.

I like to walk on a path filled with light.. soft, wonderful, comforting light to guide me through the darkness. I'm afraid of the dark.


Friday, December 30, 2011



Friday, 30 December, 2011

Don't hit me again! The young girl of 14, struggled to get away from the woman who was slapping her and pulling her hair. She wasn't succeeding because... she wasn't fighting back. She'd never thought to do such a thing! This was her aunt and she respected her... but, why does she keep trying to beat her like this?

The young girl wasn't the most behaved child... she'd 'been on her own'... trying to grow up all the while she lived at her grandparents' house. She was just so ignorant of life, and she had a sharp tongue and spoke just what she thought... it always got her into trouble.

No one had time for just 'her'.... though, her grandmother loved to talk to her. She remembers going in there in that 'middle room'.... the 'arena' as she named it when she learned 'what' that word meant.

She would sit 'Indian' fashion on the floor in front of her grandmother to listen to things she would tell her. Grandma always said 'you are my favorite grandchild'.

Later in life, she smiles softly thinking... 'that's special... because grandma told 'each' of her grandchildren that... making each think they were the favorite'. She'd make each child promise not to tell the others.

When they became adults and talked.. it finally came out in their conversations... 'I was grandma's favorite'. This 'girl' in this adult smiled .... she 'knew'... and understood why her grandmother did that... special.

The girl could hear her grandmother and her grandfather yelling in the background 'leave that child alone!'

For once and for the first time... the girl began to feel an anger inside, a rage so strong and the thought came into her mind... 'I'm tired of being beaten and slapped around and I can't take anymore!'

The girl jerked away from her aunt, the woman she loved so much.. the woman who would protect her just as quickly as she would strike out at her, and.............................she told her aunt in a quiet voice 'don't you ever touch me again, because the next time you do... I'll be the one beating you'.

Her aunt stood there staring at the young girl standing there before her... she stared for a moment and turned and walked away. She never hit that young girl again.

The young girl began crying, she was scratched up and in pain. Her right arm had a bad scratch from her aunt's fingernails... it was bleeding... alot. The 'girl' in the adult now... just rolled her sleeve up and looked down at that scar on her.. right arm. It hurts her to look at it... it hurts her even now, that she said that to her aunt... she loved her.

The girl in the adult now...... thinks of something 'when you keep abusing something... you'd better be prepared'... it's definitely going to... 'bite you in the a____' (yes, I said that.... it will definitely 'bite you in the a___').

That sounds ugly... and it is ugly to have to feel like that. Abusing a child .. a innocent child who doesn't fully understand 'why' everyone keeps taking their rage out on her.. is going to break.

That day... I became determined I would fight back and not let anyone abuse me again..... yes, I was the young girl... at that time my name was 'Faye'.... a name I hate even today. 'Faye'........................................ if you just knew what saying that name ..evokes. 'Faye'... awful memories, just awful.

On both sides of the 'family' (my mother, my father's)... when someone would call me ...'Gloria Faye'.... 'I knew my a____ was in trouble'. That was exactly what went through my mind and I see no reason to 'sugar-coat' it ... now.

The next time I was abused was by my.... step-mother and my father... I didn't fight back... the shock was so great of being lied on by my sisters and stepmother................... and that my father slapped me so hard in the face.... the first and last time he ever did that.

I trusted those people and thought they were 'perfect'.... they brainwashed me into thinking my mother's side of the family were the most awful, trashiest people in the world.... when I left them... I began to open my eyes and through the years ... 'see'....... my mother's side of the family weren't all trashy and 'they weren't just trashy on that side of the family'........ I saw things that somehow, I couldn't see when I was at my father's. I had to be at a distance.................. no, my father and his family weren't 'perfect'... not at all. How could they have fooled a young girl so completely?

I learned they could lie and cheat, and I learned my 'family' on that side of the family did 'bad' things, too. I remember being so shocked to learn that my cousin, one of my father's nieces, was drug addicted and had made my Grandmother Lola... afraid of her.

Amazing... I thought his side of the 'family' was... perfect. I can't believe even now... that they could also, do wrong. I look back even now, at my memory of seeing my cousin.... I thought she was 'perfect', too.

My Grandmother Lola told me some things just weeks before she died..... no, she wasn't perfect at all... nor were my stepmother and father. 

My Grandmother Lola told me... 'I've made a horrible mistake'... and later I found out what she meant.... I went into shock again.  This ..I will probably not ever tell in full detail... it's just too painful and .. it shows the true greed of people 'who pretend they love someone'... it pertained to me.  

I'd been cheated........ and it was at my 'ultimate' weakness in life... when I was on the brink of dying....  you know, I really had a deceitful, dishonest, manipulative stepmother... I never knew it until it was ... too late.  She finally got my mother back... me, included.  If you just knew..... I don't hate her now.  I'm past ... the pain now.  I forgive, also.

Strangely enough, she was diagnosed with cancer and within several weeks ... she died.  When she did her 'bad thing'.... I was dying with cancer... non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  She and my father came to look down at me in the hospital.... pretending to care... all the while someone was plotting.  What people will do get a dollar.... alot of dollars.

As an adult, I'm still learning.... how dumb could I have been to think they were so... perfect? No one on my mother's side of the family knew them... they didn't know anyone on my mother's side of the family.. they only knew someone whenever they clashed... over me. I wonder now 'why' they even ...bothered.

I think no one knew what to do with 'me'. I was tolerated because I was Gypsy's daughter... on the outside of me I fooled people... because I was always dressed so nice, I acted so nice and I was quiet when living with him. I did reflect well on them... no one knew the mental abuse.. I suffered.

I think my mother loved using me as a pawn to get extra money from my father and his mother. My mother should have left me at my Grandmother Lola's home to grow up. I loved my mother with my heart and when she wanted 'me' in her life.... of course, I went. She would make us a home .. for a little while.

I find myself thinking back to my father slapping me... I wonder 'why' he did that? I wonder 'why' he was so quick to believe a lie? I wonder 'if' he ever loved me?

I know they dressed me well, had a beautiful home to live in, good foods to eat... but, I think they forgot that a young girl needs love... but, strangely enough... his step-daughter and other daughter had love. They were always so happy and spoiled, quick to smile and they reflected that love.

You would have thought I'd been so jealous of them and would have been asking them 'why' was I treated so differently.... because I was given the cold shoulder so often, and cold expressions... and it made a permanent sick feeling in my stomach.

I never thought to be jealous... isn't that weird? I never argued or cried out 'why don't you love me too!' Never. I accepted what happened to me and ... though no one ever noticed... I just kept trying to do better and be a better person.

No one noticed........ I didn't care... I just kept on surviving the storms and kept on living.... I'm still here and ... I don't hold anything against anyone... and if you knew all I could tell you... all of you would.

It's alright .. I've always thought somehow ... no matter how bad things have gotten.... it's going to be alright... as soon as... next week at this time... things have to be different... I'll be glad when next... week comes... things should be better by ...then.

Sure enough.... at times on that particular road in my life ... things would get alright... at least for a little while at a time.

Goodness, when it did... it was like the sunshine coming out on a cloudy day and I... like a wilted flower... would stand straight and blossom! This happened on the 'inside' of me... I had so much pride that when it wasn't alright... I held my head high, regardless.

I didn't let people 'see' how badly they hurt me... I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. 'That'.... I could control in my life. No one saw the awful pain 'inside' and my 'inside tears'... no one 'heard me wish so much to be just loved and cared about'.

I didn't ask anyone to, either.

When I love ... I tell people I love them now. This has taken many years to learn to do. I was never taught to do that...when Tommy was born... I began telling him that his mother loved him and he was special.

The sad thing is that ...that love never stopped bad things from happening to us throughout time. Life has been so full of really bad storms... and good storms and bad storms... many twisted paths and many... journeys. Happy colors, dark colors, swirling colors, calm colors...... wonderful colors.... painful colors.

I've stood through them all so far... just like I would tell Lena when she was fighting for her life... you are a strong redwood tree and you have weathered many storms ... I know, because I am one, too. I thought she could weather this storm but, sadly... she didn't... but, I really thought she would.  She thought.. she would, too.

I think for tonight.... I'll put these memories up ...for now. I still have so, so much to write... in fact, I think I'll be writing for the rest of my life.... there's so many things that I haven't even begun to say. There are many special things, even real miracles in my life, so many wonderful things...that have happened in my life, too.

One thing at a time... :))))))) I can't write about 'one thing at a time'! My mind thinks about many things at a time and sometimes, my fingers are flying on the keyboard trying to keep up with my thoughts.

Writing... is wonderful and I find myself... so excited to get back to my computer and keyboard .... I love talking to you through my writing.

Just keep one thing in mind.... even though some things can be so bad or so sad..... and it felt like the end of the world for me.... I'm still here and I'm not a bitter, mean person. My heart is so full of love, and I have forgiven a long time ago.

I keep having a thought that keeps popping up in my mind... there is the one person I 'thought' I truly hated and feel very angry toward... I don't hate that person, though I do feel the anger... it isn't the end of the world. My anger did feel like 'hate' at the time... time has shown me it isn't 'hate'... it's the anger. In this circumstance... after time has gone by... I still feel the anger ... at this person. I, also, love this person very much and always will... I always did.

Do you see how I 'don't want to feel anything 'bad' toward anyone?' Most people would feel alot of 'bad' things in this situation... I truly don't want to, and I constantly work on it in my heart.

Being an 'older' woman now... I can 'see' now, at least 'why' about alot of things I don't dwell on any of it... though.. when I bring such memories out into the light... I 'feel' them for the time I am writing about them...... I'm 'walking around them, examining them' and ..... I can't help but, to feel deeply what happened ...back then.  When I stop writing .. I go on to live in my present life... and 'let go'. I never dwell on the past.. I go forward. 

Feeling, sensing, 'seeing' ... going back... I get lost as I write those memories from my past... and when I finish writing.... (I always 'know' when I'm done.... just as when I draw and paint.... I 'know').... when I finish writing... I go back and read.

I 'see' how I got lost on the paths that led to each memory to write about them.... I think... it always feels so good to travel those paths back to reality.. to now.

I'm back now... I'm finished just for right now. :)))))) Goodnight and I'll talk to you tomorrow.

PAIN IN MY VERY SOUL... Lena In Sweden

PAIN IN MY VERY SOUL... Lena in Sweden

30 December, 2011

I went to sleep last night thinking about my systervan, Lena. She died this past summer leaving her memory with us all. I will never forget her.. never.

Last night her brother, Per, shared with me their family photos like he's always done through the past 12 years. I was hoping to see photos of Lena as I looked at all the photos.

You wouldn't believe the talent in the taking of each picture... he and his family... take turns taking photos. They travel to the most interesting countries, including the United States.

Their photos are so rich in the colors that they capture along with each of them in the photos. I've seen photos, one standing out in particular, of some of the very same things I've seen here in the United States. That photo was taken at the Golden Gate Bridge that spans the San Francisco Bay.

This photo I am speaking about is .... stunning. It's taken of the Golden Gate Bridge at an angle I'd never seen. It's like walking around something and to stop all of a sudden.. to look closer... because here is something new to look at, to think about! He did just that... with the famous Golden Gate Bridge... he took the most stunning, beautiful photo that affected me so much.. it was so different, and a fresh way to look at that bridge. I would dearly love to have a photo like that, framed and on my wall. It was 'that' special!

Per is an amazing photographer. His whole family is just as amazing when taking photos. They are a real family... and you know how I treasure 'real families'... they are like my favorite jewelry... jewelry that 'last forever'........ diamonds and gold.

I looked at the photos through each year just like I've always done when he sends me the link to their precious family photos. I looked back to see Lena... Lena when she was so healthy and vibrant... so strong.

It was wonderful to see her in the photos... I have many photos, also. She and I shared so many things, always mailing things back and forwards... Sweden to the USA..... USA to Sweden. It was very expensive and we would wait until we had the extra money to do that ..instead of going shopping for something else.

I discovered several photos I never got to see during the time Lena became so ill. When I saw them... tears immediately began coming from my eyes making it difficult for me to look.. closely.

Lena, how beautiful you were, though you were so sick. I saw you sitting there with your pink jacket on covering your head, then.. I saw you without your hood covering your head... you were smiling so brightly, though you were so sick. I saw something that you never complained about while taking chemotherapy.... you had lost all of your beautiful hair. It didn't make you less beautiful... there was a glow about you... making the photo of you 'shine' in the most special way.

I saw golden light and pink and the softest colors about you, Lena... pastel colors of the most special, and softest of colors. These are colors that reflect what a good soul you had, and the big heart you had. You reflected inner beauty, though you were so sick. My precious systervan, how I miss you.

How I personally know so much of what you were experiencing... I may talk about this... yet.

I was so happy to see my old friend, my systervan.... the face I knew so well... my Lena Doll reflects 'you', Lena. It was made by your hands when I was so sick in 1999... you sent a part of you that reflects on my Lena Doll's face. She looks alot like you.

I went to bed after sitting for over an hour looking at this treasure chest of photos, drinking in the colors with my eyes and appreciating the beauty of places in other countries that Per and his family are always traveling to... places outside the USA that I 'know' I'll never get to go to at this late time and day.

My consolation is that for years I got to travel 'everywhere' over and over... in my country... the USA, both on private vehicle and for years on a big, comfortable tractor-trailer (the inside like a big motorhome).

I always enjoy their family photos... so wonderful to share all that with your children from the time they are small until like now.... they are almost 'grown-up'. What a rich experience to share with one's children... they'll never be afraid to go anywhere, they have so much knowledge in their young minds. Per and Eva are grooming their children to grow up ... knowing what they want in life and knowing their dreams can come true... knowing their father and mother love them. How special, how so very special. I never knew there was such a thing when I was.. a little girl.

I laid in bed thinking until I fell asleep... about the wonderful photos, the photos of Lena. I felt this emotion inside so strongly... you know.. it's when you miss someone who meant the world in your life.. your special friend who was always 'there'... who knew more about you and your real feelings, likes and dislikes than anyone else in the world, excepting your husband and children.

It hurts so badly... this special person just like my son... can't ever be replaced... no one can take 'their' place in your heart. They are there ...permanently. They were a real part of your life's fabric, your colors.... even 'torn away'.......... you know they are missing.

I woke up this morning with Lena on my mind... seeing in my mind's eye the photos of her looking up from her chair to look at Elin's smiling face..... and the 'glow' that reflected from her. I felt this strange feeling that goes deeper than my words can express... I know it's to my soul, my very soul... it just keeps stretching and all at the same time... it hurts in the softest way bringing tears to my eyes.

I miss you, Lena. I miss you with my very heart. You meant the world to me. It does hurt to my very .... soul.

Thank-you, Per, from my Heart. I'm glad I got to share your wonderful photos always. It means the world to me.

How to Make Home Made Bread From Scratch

How to Make Home Made Bread From Scratch   This is my new friend's website.. where she shares special things.  Her name is Brett.  You will appreciate the beautiful photos and the way she writes to tell you how to bake this most special of breads.... homemade bread from scratch!  Granny Gee/Gloria

Thursday, December 29, 2011



29 December, 2011

I watch from a distance a man we know and call a 'friend'. He always holds his head down and he appears to 'watching from beneath a log'..... looking up at people. He always seems to have this little glint in his eyes... like he's laughing secretly at people, or he knows something about them and ... he's going to tell it to someone. He likes you but, secretly ...he doesn't like anyone, but... he still likes you... though he's going to talk about you.

Her eyes are lined with black eyeliner, making her faded green eyes look more faded, her eyebrows painted on with a black pencil. She is wearing very red lipstick on her thin lips. Her eyes look 'hard' and deceitful when looking at a woman... but, when her eyes turn to look at a man... they instantly begin to shine, her lips begin to smile, and those black painted eyebrows begin to raise. This woman has 'something' on her mind. That tongue begins to lick her thin lips.... She's a good person, though, she would 'stab' her female friends in the back.. but, she would be the first to come running if they needed help. Yes, she's a 'good' person.

His eyes look so tired .. dark circles beneath them. One can tell he is a very stressed man, and he may work hard. He listens as someone talks to him waiting for the right time to get away without hurting their feelings. This man is tired... he has the weight of the world on his shoulders... one can sense this by looking at him.. he appears fragile. He will stand there much longer letting someone talk as long as they want.. before he'd hurt their feelings. I've watched him do this and... almost fall to sleep. A patient and kind man... his eyes reflect compassion and empathy for others. People try to take advantage of that... thankfully, there's someone there who 'protects' him from being 'used'.

Her eyes have that little flirtatious glint in them as she stands there talking to the couple on the street. Truthfully, she is attracted to the man... and her eyes reflect that... though she tries to hide it from his wife. Her eyes give it away... when she looks at him... then, changes expression to being 'too' serious to make the man's wife think she is 'nice and she is sincere'. One can tell ... she doesn't fool his wife. She 'knows'. She is a good person... she just doesn't have a man of her own... and has to enjoy talking to one when she can. She's a good person and would do anything for these people. She's just lonely... one can 'see' it in her eyes.

His eyes want to look at her, but, he won't do it unless at certain times he feels comfortable enough to. I'm not quite certain 'why'. I've watched him when he talks to everyone and at times he'll avoid looking at her while he talks... at times, he'll look directly at her. I've studied this when the opportunity presented itself... I can see as I write this ....that.... I don't 'have my finger on this one'. I'll study it alittle farther... when the opportunity presents itself... This is a very good man who is so kind to people and animals.

His eyes are warm and happy when he sees them... they twinkle while they all talk. He likes those people, one can just see it by watching his...eyes. The pupils in his eyes get 'big' signaling his fondness for the man and woman he's talking to. He would talk to them 'forever'. He would do most anything for them and he's a good person.

I watch from a distance each time this particular woman comes to their home... the women 'seem' to like her and smile alot when the men are around... I smile, too. When the men go off talking on their own, in their own 'man's world'... the women quit smiling. Their eyes... I watch the women's eyes closely to 'see' if they really like this woman in their midst. I'm surprised .... I thought they liked her but, no... I don't think they do ...though... sometimes they really The woman senses 'when' they don't like her and she really likes each of the 3 women ... and wonders 'why?' She doesn't feel comfortable and wants to leave... I feel for her. She has the highest respect for the women and I've never seen her do anything to make them not like or respect her. I can tell she 'knows' these women are 'good' people, though... she isn't comfortable around them... their eyes let her 'know'. She wonders 'why'...

Do you watch eyes to see if they like or dislike you? I pay close attention to eyes.... your eyes, his eyes, her eyes... they most always tell the truth when one's mouth doesn't.

If the pupils get 'bigger' while you are talking to someone ... they like you. If the pupils get very tiny while they are talking to you... I don't think they like you or I very much. That goes for when eyes look at food, objects or just anything.

This is what I read many years ago.. and above are some of my most recent observations... I always study and pay attention to people around me, even if I'm not looking... I sense.

I think about what I see and sense... I know when someone likes or doesn't like me... do you?





Thursday, 29 December, 2011

I am up before Skip and the Pups to have a little time to myself. I hurriedly went to the bathroom and brushed my hair and brushed my teeth.. thinking 'come on, Gloria'... hurry, hurry!' :)))

In the kitchen I put the Pups' 2 clean bowls on the countertop and go to the pantry to get a scoop of dry food out for their bowls, and walk back to put it in them. I take the scoop back and put it back into the dry food and close it securely. Looking on the shelf I see their cans of food... I read the labels thinking of which flavor they'd like this morning.

I select one and bring it to the counter to open it... and then, take the spoon and 'draw' a line on top of the food.... exactly in the middle. I put the spoon 'exactly' on that line and put it down to the bottom of the can and 'half' it ... exactly. I put one half in Kissy's bowl, and one half in Chadwick's bowl... this is breakfast for them. They love it! They have both dry and canned food.

For supper ...I do the same thing. During the day, they get little tidbits if we are eating anything. I feed our pups this way (we all have our own way we 'feel' is right... or best, to feed our pets)... because I want them to eat more 'dry food'... than, canned food.

I feel it to be healthier for them... sometimes, I don't feel good about canned foods. All one has to remember about canned foods is when pets were getting sick from them.... but, of course... dry food could do the same thing.

It's strange ... how everything in our life ... is just 'that close' to getting us! We always have to be 'one step ahead'... and always... alert! :))))

Food always 'bites me in the ____!' I'm alert, too! I see it, I smell it, and alas! I eat it ...all the while it's 'biting me in the a___!' I let it 'bite me!'.... but, 'I'm biting back!' :)))))

Hurry! Hurry! I feel excitement inside as I have in the back of my mind... to get things done so, I can sit down at my computer and... write!

I draw, paint, and do all kinds of creative things using colors from paints, crayons, colored pencils, magic markers, pens (oh, how I love all these wonderful, wonderful things... each filled with such vibrant colors!).

I love handling fabrics and my eyes 'drinking in' the beautiful colors, the patterns on the cloth... I love the textures. I'm no seamstress.. but, I do appreciate fabric and making things 'my way'.. though it's so funny... I've embarassed myself sometimes!

I remember years ago, I read about altering articles of clothing to make them into something else completely! I am not a professional artist of anything........ but, I am artistic!

I 'see' and 'feel' and 'sense' and 'hear', and 'smell' ...constantly around me... I'm always in the mode of 'how can I use that to make something, how can I make it different, what can.....?'

I can make something.... out of nothing! Truthfully............ I can also, make 'nothing out of something'! I promise you that.. I really can! :)))) !!! In this case.......... I did just that....

I 'altered' this big sweatshirt to make it into something more exciting to wear! I cut the sweatshirt down the front in the middle to open it up... I'm making a wonderful 'jacket'!

I 'do it my way!' It is a gray sweatshirt and so cosy-warm (yep! I did it again... 2 adjectives... Skip, it's alright.. that's 'me'!).

I decide I have another sweatshirt that is a nice purple color and I run to get it... I'm working quickly now... I'm excited ...I'm creating!!! It's the most wonderful feeling in the world!!!

I really have to guess alot when it comes to cutting and sewing because I, honestly, do not have the patience to cut a pattern out! I can't stand taking 'all that time' to do that.... I freehand most everything... and 'if' I need a pattern... I use my own things... after-all, I 'know it by heart'..... it's 'mine'.

I begin cutting and measuring with my eyes how wide the purple strip will be... I'm making something to 'cover' the raw edge where I cut that gray sweatshirt... I 'think' it's called a 'bias'! Who cares... I 'know what I'm doing, now!'

I sew that strip all the way around that 'edge' ...imagine now... the gray sweatshirt now.. has purple trim around the neck and down each side of where it opens.. all the way down to the bottom. I cut off the sleeves on the gray sweatshirt and.... I sew up the 'holes'. It was going to be a jacket, but now, it's going to be a cape!

Oh, how beautiful! It 'looks like something!' I get the idea to run and cut off the purple sleeves on the purple sweatshirt and I do... I cut off 'half' sleeves of that sweatshirt..... and I run back to the gray sweatshirt (I'm a fashion designer in my mind!).... and I cut 2 slits.... on either side of the sweatshirt. The slits are for the half-sleeves to be sewn to... for hands to stick out from!

I sew the purple sleeves onto that gray sweatshirt.... I'm thinking now, as I look at it.... those sleeves are 'sort of' ...short! Hey, it's NOT the end of the world because....... that jacket is now a 'cape'! A cape with just the right length sleeves to put your hands through, so at least you aren't 'trapped and can use them. know how 'capes' are.... you know! Usually ...capes have 'slits'... not sleeves sewn to them. My cape was different and... more special!

I run to the mirror trying the 'cape' on... I see that it's 'perfect'... I've turned this big, gray sweatshirt into a work of art... it's altered now.. it's no longer a ..sweatshirt. There's 'only one thing that... sort ..of bothers'. I forget that in my excitement!

It's went through a transition.... it was going to be a jacket ... but, it turned into a ... cape. A gray cape with purple trim ...with purple 'half'... sleeves.

I decided it needed a 'flower' on it! A big, purple flower! I took a piece of purple sweatshirt fabric and began to shape and roll it... into a beautiful 'flower'!

I sewed it on the front of that cape... and ironed it all to look so nice! and hung it on a rack... and stood back to admire what I'd put hours of work into! It was absolutely.... stunning! Beautiful! I was 'seeing' it.... wow! In 'my eyes'.... I created something so special... so absolutely beautiful!

I 'knew' where I'd be wearing that cape.... to show the world my special creation. Everyone is going to wish for one when they see mine! I could just imagine the wonderful compliments I would get on it! I was eagerly awaiting for time to go to my doctor's appointment! I would wear it there!

Skip... my hero... you are the best! You go through alot with me... you love for me to create and you love to look at my wonderful 'works of art'! They are all beautiful to! You would even go 'out in public' in support of me... I smile with such love in my heart for you, 'Boy' ('Boy'... is my nickname for Skip... it's more special than words can describe... that's another story!).

Skip and I went to my doctor's appointment. We always go with each other... (we care so much to know everything so, we each, can make sure the other gets what they need or know what we need to know... you know how it is... when you love and care so much about the other).

The longer we were out in public ... no one 'seemed' to pay alot of attention to my wonderful cape! At least .. that was my impression until........ I did see some expressions that included little 'wrinkles' in between the brows and I swore I saw some 'squinched-up' eyes.. and noses......................... and honestly... I think I saw some real 'smirks'!!!

I was beginning to feel bad inside.. and thinking I'd made a mistake wearing that beautiful cape... I don't think anyone is appreciating it... no, not at all!

It was too cold to take it off so, I had to keep it on.... and it felt so warm and so cosy... and I thought it was beautiful. Besides... that fabric flower I made sure was artsy and ... just plain-out pretty!

We finished my doctor's appointment .. we did our things one does on the way back on our drive home.. NOT ONE PERSON said anything to me about my cape! NOT EVEN ONE! They didn't have to... when we got home, I ran to the mirror to look at my creation to 'see why' no one said anything and 'why'... they made those expressions... because... I saw them! I sensed them!

My beautiful cape.... looked so ... pitiful. It wasn't as beautiful as when I first made it. I turned this way and that way and I began to feel like a 'penguin'..... yes, a penguin! My hands were sticking out those little 'half-sleeves' made me look like that's all I had... just 2 hands in gloves. I think ...I might have noticed... that 'before'... but, forgot in my excitement just before wearing it!

To complete the image I had in my mind of looking like a 'penguin'... I began flapping my hands together and holding my two feet and legs tightly together... and began slowly turning around ...making a sound I thought ...penquins would make! Now... I'm a penguin! How ridiculous 'I' .... felt! I'd worn 'this'.... out in 'public!' I felt waves of warmth come over me... waves of nothing but... pure embarassment! Just pure red embarassment.... it took days to get over this!

See... I'm also, good at making nothing out of something. Don't you just hate to be embarassed? Especially being an adult.... because as a child.. everyone knows it's because you aren't experienced enough at that age...if it isn't right. No one thinks twice about it!

I was an adult doing this... I know I was laughed at... in my mind I see this 'penguin flapping 'those hands in the half-sleeves'... slowly turning around and... around... listen! It's making some kind of sound.. that sounds like a... penguin?!!! I'm glad 'alot' of years have gone by now. I don't think there's anyone who'd remember 'that' now, and connect it with 'me'!

Skip... all I can do at this moment is think of how patient you are.. and how sweet you are.. and kind. You didn't even hurt my feelings when I wore that 'cape' out in public and you never seemed embarassed. I wonder if it possible.... could you have been proud of ... my creation, my work of art? You know... like a parent when a child hands them a picture they've worked so hard to draw and color.. and to everyone else looks like a 'mess'... but, to that parent... it's the most beautiful thing in the world... 'their' child... did that!

I'm thinking 'hurry! hurry!' ....get things done so, I can sit down and write.... write! I've done just that and here I am... at this very moment... I've been writing ...all along!

I found that I love to write... but, I really knew that already... I don't know how to describe it now.......... I love using words .. I love words... I love painting them in colors... words are like the different colors of paints... so, I ask myself the question.... 'why haven't 'I, myself'.......... been writing all along?'

I never connected... 'write stories'... with 'me'.... but, I've always written very long letters, emails ...loving and enjoying that. For some reason I was only .. in my mind the thoughts of Skip or Jimmy writing... because they 'know how to write properly' and they write/wrote such very interesting and entertaining things. I don't think I thought I could really write about anything... though... strangely enough... I thought I could..... I thought I couldn't... but, thought I could.... I really think I might be 'writing now'! I began .. I can't stop!

I have to hurry to write... I feel 'breathless' inside thinking about writing and telling about things only I know about and I have experienced, and if somehow .. my life can make a difference in someone else's in a positive way......... hey, I just thought of something! Wouldn't it be something... if......... I am whispering this softly.... 'if'... finally as a middle-aged woman now, who didn't get to save the world the way she wanted to as a younger woman...... wouldn't it be something 'if' ... I did it 'now'... through writing?

Wouldn't that be something? Wouldn't that be wonderful? Wouldn't it mean the world to know that before I grow older and have to die........... that 'I' ...could do anything so meaningful to touch other people's lives in ... a good way?

I didn't get to save the world as I meant to do..... just maybe... if I 'don't save the world' before I die... maybe I can make even the smallest 'good' difference in others' lives.

At least ... so far... people I hear from in emails and now, in comments on this blog and the Wordpress blog.... they are saying they sit down with their morning coffee or hot cup of tea.... looking forward to see what I .....(me! amazingly 'me!' I smile so big!)... to see what I am 'talking about 'now'!

Can you imagine how honored I am, how exciting that is? Can you imagine such a happy smile on my face. I have someone to talk to ..... you! I have so much to tell you... I have so much to say. I'm glad you are here! You mean the world to me!

'YOU' make all the difference in my world... you make me smile, laugh and makes tears come to my eyes when 'you' write to me or comment on my blogs. Yes... YOU mean so much to me.

I'm so glad you are 'there'. Hey.... I have so, so much to tell you!

Wednesday, December 28, 2011



Wednesday, 28 December, 2011

I was just sitting here thinking about what Skip and I had been talking about 'when and if' one day, one of us would be gone.

I think what evoked those thoughts was watching on the news about the funeral of a man who died in a car wreck. His young son was standing there speaking of him at the funeral service, his dad was his best friend.

Skip and I have decided that 'when' that time came for one of us (people have to do this from time to time.. though of course, it hurts)....... we want to be cremated... just simply cremated.

We were talking about not having a public service where people come to 'view' the deceased. We definitely don't want that no more than we'd want someone to come to watch us ...sleep.

We were talking about how we are so private in our life that... that wouldn't be appropriate for us. We just want the other to simply have the other... cremated. No fuss, no unnecessary frills.

We just want no more than what I just wrote... those are our wishes 'if and when'.

I was just reading this to Skip and he I ... just agreed.... our wishes are simple as that.... cremation without having a public viewing... just simply bring home our ashes and place them in 'a special spot'... that's meaningful to the other.

Quietly, just ever so quietly we would want to go... without all the crowds of people standing there laughing and talking... which to alot of people that's a 'good' thing... to us, we prefer quietness, and privacy... just as if we were asleep in our bedroom.

These are our wishes... we both want the same 'if and when' that day comes. I really hope it's many, many years from now. We both love life!



Wednesday, 28 December, 2011

Colors... I love colors of every kind. Bright colors, soft colors, loud colors, elegant colors... light or dark colors. I even love neutral colors... all colors are needed to make other colors ..... special!

I'm looking at my coffee mug that Ms Nancy gave me for Christmas... it's cream-colored with leaves of a beautiful shade of green for the mistletoe leaves with berries of burgundy-red and berries of white and gold outlined. The handle is of the same color as the berries.. burgundy-red. The cup is absolutely beautiful and it just ... stands out to me.

The simplest things can become so precious.. with just the right colors. Have you thought about it?

For example, out in Skip's shop there is a chair that has been outside so long in the weather. I took that chair and washed it off and .. I painted it with a soft lavender paint... then... I began to paint flowers on it with colors of yellow and purple... then, leaves of green. Each shade is 'just the right shade'. Now.. the chair wouldn't dare to be left outside... it's too pretty. It could withstand the weather with the paints I use... but, we 'don't want to take the chance of messing it up!'

Everywhere I go... I'm seeing colors. I'm seeing colors of cars, clothes, people, animals ... when people talk... I 'see' their colors. Sometimes, I might not like the colors I see but, every color is beautiful ... when it's used with just the right color.

I don't claim to be knowledgeable about the color wheel and such.. I've never taken art to know about those things. I do claim that I truly love colors, whether it be with a brush, marker, crayon, coloring pencil or ...words. I love to paint ...words.

Pink, fluffy rug, soft yellow towel, pastel green robe, white nightgown with little pastel green dots, red walls with white trim..... I love to paint words! In your mind you can see the colors I just painted before each object! If I said.... the towel, the robe, the nightgown with dots, and walls with its trim... in your mind you wouldn't see.... happy colors!

Colors, wonderful colors make one feel happy. Some colors can and will 'pull us down' if things are so drab.

One example of drab colors that I've paid attention to and listen closely to what other people say... are the huge floors of a nearby Walmart... they are all a drab brown-looking color. They are clean but, there's no color to make a person feel happy... or put a spring in one's step to walk across it.

The air feels 'dark' and the lights brighten and dim automatically... contributing to the 'dark' colors there. The people who work there... well, they are drab, too. How can they help but, to be..... they don't have colors around them to make them feel happy, feel energized. I should dress up in alot of 'wild' colors and go twirling in there, here and there! I bet everyone's eyes would stay on 'me'.... happy colors!

Strangely enough, all the other Walmarts have shiny, white floors and I never heard people talk about them like this one... all are within driving distance from where I live... you can be there in a few minutes. This one Walmart makes people feel 'down' because of the 'drabness... lack of color'.  I don't think they realize they reflect 'lack of color'.... their faces do.

I will say this much about Walmart... I love my fancy stores, but, I'm a dedicated Walmart and Target store shopper! So, I'm not knocking one of my favorite stores! I love you, Walmart! You are the best! Just this one store needs some color to brighten everything... everyone up... their smiles would reflect sunshine in there .. and goodness, people would want to run buying everything! They would be more pleasant to their customers, too. I would even go there all the time... not just once in a while.

I love A.C. Moore and Michael's art stores.... now, before clothes or anything else.......... these are my most favorite stores! There... are the colors of the world, the most exciting place to go and stay as long as I want to ... looking and touching and choosing beads, paints, markers, pens, threads, yarns, books, all kinds of crafting things. Oh my! It's just a 'world of color.. a world of heaven'.... to me!!! Take me there and leave me for several hours with a shopping cart! I would bring the 'rainbow' home with me!

Colors are exciting! I love the feeling of excitement inside when I see just the right colors that make me want to come closer to an object... inviting me to just come on! Come on, Granny Gee! Come on, Gloria! Come on Granny Gloria Gee!

I just read this last paragraph to Skip and looked up at him... he shook his head and said 'you need help!' Ha! He knows how I love happy colors, Tommy knew how special colors are to me.

Colors.... my life stories are different shades of colors... some happy and bright, some dark and darker, some so beautiful and elegant, some of just so many colors of the rainbow.

HappyColors.... I would choose that name instead of my own. I will keep the name Tommy chose for Taban to call me, though. That's 'Granny Gee'... that's most special to me.

Colors..... Colors..... Colors..... Colors..... Colors.....



Wednesday, 28 December, 2011

I've been thinking all morning back to something I never dwell on, nor have since we began to get over the shock of our home burning down ... along with it the loss of many treasured things.

I wrote yesterday about some of the feelings involved in such a tragic happening and... of course, that evoked more memories. These memories that have surfaced and will soon be 'pushed back down' under the surface again......they aren't the nicest memories.

They show how there are people who can't wait to take something from the other... in their moment of weakness. I call them human vultures. I 'know' them .. I grew up with some whom were disguised as 'family' members.... some were 'friends'.

Most every day when I go out in the world... I see some of these human vultures. They are naturally like that and... truly the world needs them to clean up... messes and ... where death has struck. They are our natural ... vacuum cleaners. You see them.. on the sides of roads, out in fields, everywhere........ circling.

Human vultures hide and wait for their opportunity... they really don't want to be recognized for what they do best... take. I understand that... I think we all have alittle of 'human vulture' in us at times... we all like a little something 'free'. Usually, it amounts to no more than the taking of a magazine or a pen from a doctor's office.... I'm guilty of this, I bet you are, too. If not, you are a better person than I... and I'm honestly a good person.

The human vultures I'm speaking of... are the ones who flocked to where our home burned down... on that same evening. Some knew us and were 'friends'.... some didn't know us and while they were there out of curiosity, they'd stoop down to pick up some little 'something' and pocket it, never knowing 'we' were standing there and 'we' were the people this horrible thing was happening to.

I don't hold against anyone for what I saw... or learned from the people who were telling us what they saw people do... I know life is like that... really... you know, life is like that and we can't change that part of it. I would like to see people wait for a week or so, to give the owners a chance to hunt and savage whatever they can find of their belongings, whether it be a coin or something ..... more treasured.

If they must... only then go there to 'take' what they want at least a week later. Don't just take while they are there or just after they .. drive away.

Skip just came into the kitchen and asked me was I blogging, and I said 'yes'. I told him I was writing about vultures and angels.. and I saw him grin and he said 'they both have alot in common'. I asked him 'what?' Skip said 'they both can fly!' I just began to laugh... that Skip! He is so witty and quick on his feet. He is always saying 'the darnest things'. He really needs to be sitting here writing.. he says the most interesting things... and they are original.

That evening, each day thereafter... I would come to hunt in the cold weather, through all the charred remains of ...our life. I saw things half-burnt or scorched and sometimes, I would find a treasure!

I saw Taylor McKenzie's Christmas gifts lying on the ground ....out on the frozen ground. I stared through tears looking at them. They were half-burnt and all that 'pink' from the bed comforter and dolls we'd gotten her for Christmas, and hadn't had a chance to give her. I remember standing there and grieving over that... McKenzie's Christmas presents we'd taken so much time to choose for ... just her.

My hands were freezing from reaching and pulling and lifting to find just anything that survived the fire... tears falling from my eyes and that awful feeling in my stomach. I can..... not... describe in words such emotions that I was experiencing... those are feelings one can't describe... it's like a death in the family.

You've lost alot ... of your life, your family's life. Yes, I would compare it to losing a loved person. All you held dear and treasured and all you owned that was material in this world.. things that can never be replaced... they are all gone or damaged beyond repair.

Once.... in a great while... amazingly.. you find something that is untouched by the fire or water from the firemen's hoses. Things were encased in ice and had to be chipped out... it was so cold, I was so cold each time I would go there... because I was in a shock and never knew 'how long' I would be there... searching just for something to add back to my life to make it meaningful and real... again.

When I'd look at the time when I would leave there each day ...I would see that'd I'd been hunting and searching for several hours ... never aware of being there so long. Skip had made me promise never to go inside the gutted house when he wasn't with me. Skip, I did go inside and didn't realize it until... I looked around and remembered what you said. I stood alot of times and I just cried, and cried where no one could see or hear me. I always cry in... private.

I remember standing there looking at something... that I'd just learned about from the fire.... Skip made me aware of it because a fireman had told him to beware of it.... at all times. It was called a 'widow-maker'.

You may take heed, also, if you chance upon one while standing in a 'burnt-out' house. The widow-maker is the chimney still standing on the roof above the gutted room.... it's going to eventually 'cave in'... if someone is beneath it, they'll be killed or injured very badly.

Out in the yard, I'd search the piles of clothes and books.. I had many, many, many books.

I dearly love books, art books and cook books, gardening books, decorative painting books, airbrush painting books, crafting books, educational books. I had a library of books. I would find books that were black from the smoke that I would carry with me to clean up. The clothes were ruined from smoke and fire, and frozen.

I vaguely remember seeing Angie sitting on the ground savaging files that were in the file cabinet, and my dolls and lots of things. That was my memory of her sitting there... trying to help in her way. I loved Angie with my heart.... I still do, but... now, she doesn't know it.

Angie... you are special and don't even know it. You've not found yourself and self-worth... yet. I do love you though, I said I didn't. I haven't forgotten the good things I've known you to do through the years.. for others and for us. I never forget.

I've given alot of thought lately... to a person named Angie, that we know. She knows that for now... I hate her. She doesn't know that.... that's not so. I love her very much. I had to stop here ... and do as I always do... walk around memories and look at them, carefully. I'll let go of this memory.. for now, and get back to what I was telling you about.

I was pulling and tugging with frozen hands at something and I heard someone speak behind me. 'Put these on, Gloria'.... I turned to see who was speaking to me and saw Raymond holding a pair of men's soft, warm camoflage gloves... they looked new. I took them and gratefully put them on my hands... they were big, but... wonderful-big (yes, I know I used 2 adjectives together... it's okay because.. I talk that way!).

I'll never forget him doing that. I think maybe that was all he wanted to do... maybe, he'd seen me coming each day to dig without ...gloves on my hands. I don't know what people 'saw' when driving by there... I was in another world... right in front of the world on that corner in town.... on the main highway. 'Millions' of people probably saw a half-crazed woman just going around in circles there and thought it funny.... who knows? I never even thought about... what was someone thinking of me.. at that time.

I learned that when I left ...certain people would come behind me to search for things. I learned they would walk to their pickups, or cars.. and put little stacks of 'things' in them.. who knows what they took. Maybe.... someone took a music box from the collection of music boxes my mother gave me before she died... just maybe 'one' could have survived. Maybe... someone took a book that only I treasured in this world...just maybe.

How would I know.. I never had the chance to see our things.. they just picked up in front of 'God and everyone' and... took to their vehicles. They didn't hide what they were doing... excepting from me. Just maybe... they didn't care... maybe they thought they were helping by taking things off.... after-all... vultures do clean up... messes... even the death of someone's life-things, as well as carcasses.

They came each day, each evening .... not just one time... they waited to come back and ... keep picking and picking... and picking.

Angels... oh my goodness, the Angels who came to us to help us. I can't even tell you how many angels came into our lives at that time. They kept us from crashing to the ground and we were so fortunate to go straight from the motel with our 4 dogs into a home where we lived for 6 years.... 'up on the little mountain'.. that we called 'Fairchild's Mountain'... after our big, spoiled Rottweiler.... Mr. Fairchild. He is gone now.. gone just as so many loved pets ... so many loved people... so much in our life has gone... gone and ... we never forget them.

The people who came quietly into our life, each giving to us in money and in 'home' things... kept us from knowing hardship. How so fortunate we were.. how so thankful our hearts were. In that awful shock.... not being able to think straight... these 'quiet' people helped us. Thank-you... Angels. Many we knew, and so many we didn't know........ thank-you for touching our lives in such a meaningful, good way... from my heart.

I've taken 'these memories' out to examine and to walk around them to think about 'why' did the people come to take our things while we had our moment of weakness.

They were grabbing every chance they could when our backs were turned. They never stopped to 'help us gather anything that wasn't ruint'.......... they 'waited'... sitting off in a distance watching... circling in the sky watching... and going in 'for the kill' moments after we drove away.

Do you know what? I never knew people did that. I've never-even heard tell of people who did that. Isn't it amazing?

I've tried to give the benefit of the doubt 'in my mind' these people-vultures. I've thought 'okay, maybe they are just innocent treasure-seekers'... hoping to find something of value, you know... just something that's special and good, and has made it through the fire!

Maybe... they just want to help 'clean up' in ... their own way and you know how sometimes people can help others but, don't have to let everyone know that 'they did such a wonderful, good thing'... they didn't have to have those pats on the back, so to speak. Therefore... that's 'why' they waited... for us to drive off... so, they could.... help clean up the mess.

I just asked Skip to listen to what I have written here. He stood there and said 'I've never thought about it.. they did stoop to pick up things in front of us and keep them.. they were stealing in front of us'. We have never really discussed this since the fire and if we did ... one doesn't always remember everything when they are in that world of 'numbing shock'.

I think it's time to put these memories 'back up'.... maybe ... just maybe......... they were innocent treasure-seekers and didn't mean to do bad.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011



Tuesday, December 27, 2011

I was sitting here writing to Ms Nancy... always each day we email each other and have been doing this many years... in fact, since 1999, when we saw each other again for the first time since being childhood friends. Goodness, how time flies.

It's amazing to think about because 1998 I almost died from a major illness and didn't know I was sick again... when Ms Nancy came back into my life in May, 1999. In fact, I had a produce store just across the street from where she lived.

I want to remember right here just several weeks before... April 19, 1999.. is when Lena, my systervan who lived in Sweden, came into my life. Lena died in August, 2011. Lena and Ms Nancy..... all these years meant the world to me. They were there through so many shocks from so much that happened in my life... they know and knew... just alittle about my life.

She came walking in one day with her grandchildren and that day began our friendship .. anew. Ms Nancy... that's the way I thought of her in my mind... that Ms Nancy!

Sometimes when Skip and I speak of her ... we will say 'that Ms Nancy'... with so much affection and love. She's special to us more than words can say.

As I write will begin to 'see' why I call her 'Ms Nancy'.... to me calling her that means she is more special beyond words. This is my childhood friend and now ... my friend throughout the rest of my life.

The 'in-between'... we went our separate paths in life... and in 1999.. we somehow circled all the way back.. to have each other in our lives... again. I love Ms Nancy, somehow she is more than just 'friend' to me.

She is a part of my life in the most special way... she understands 'me' and knows I have my ways... just as I do her. I may get this saying wrong but, you will recognize it........... 'to know someone, is to love them'. This is very true in this situation. To 'know me'... is to either hate or love me... I'm myself... I'm real. To love Ms Nancy... is to love her.... but, one really has to stop for a time to 'see.. us'... we keep our lives private and our 'real' feelings... private.

We are like the 'trees in the forest'.. you don't see 'us' for all the trees.. but, we are there... and we are ...strong... we are the trees who withstand the storms. Lena was like the redwood tree in my mind and the storm of her life came... we all will face a 'storm of our life'... at one time or the other... and whether you or I like it... it will be the last storm we are in. It's sad but, true... and my words...again.... 'that's the way life is'. Life is like that.

The round table in the motel room...the dim lights from the lamps and the bedspreads on the beds, and the tv on... I see Skip standing near the mirror and countertop outside the bathroom, the pups investigating all the 'new' things to them. I'd made coffee in the coffeemaker and I was sitting at the round shock from losing our home to a fire that day. I think I poured the hot coffee into the mug I was holding in my hands. This is my memory of that first night at the motel the Red Cross found for us.

I put the mug on the round table and placed both hands on it and I closed my eyes and 'just was'...... the warmth and comfort from that mug was reaching to my very soul.

I won't even try to put into words here more than what I just told you... close your eyes with your hands around a hot mug of coffee when you are in shock or hurt or sad.......... feel that warmth and comfort flow through 'you'... then, pick it up still holding the mug with both hands, still have your eyes closed tightly... and begin to take little sips of it, savoring every little drop of hot coffee taking your time.... do you 'feel' it... do you feel how the comfort and warmth reaches to your very soul?

You can even put that warm mug up to just rest one cheek on it and then, the other after most of the coffee is gone to not waste any of the comfort and warmth it gives you. I have done this many times in my life... I've needed alot of comfort and warmth through the times.

Sitting in that motel room that night is what I was doing. I could hear the tv from the invisible curtain of shock I was in... but, I couldn't understand the words. Numb.........

I could see, but, I couldn't really ...see. I could feel but, I couldn't really 'feel'... my senses were in shock.

The one thing that could and did reach through was.... a little mug that held hot coffee in it. I held onto it like a lifesaver... I closed my eyes and held on to the warmth and comfort it offered me and I didn't let go.

I sipped it slowly, savoring and 'feeling' as hard as I could the hot coffee... and only focusing in my numb world on that hot liquid, my mind interpreting it as comfort, warmth. It was the only thing that I could feel... does that make sense? It warmed me on the 'inside' .... I could feel it deep inside trying to make me hold on to reality, to know 'everything's going to be alright'.

I was wrapped in a blanket and I was so cold from being outside that whole day ...watching as our life changed... our whole life changing. Skip was always close by... his presence comforted me, his voice. Skip is my hero, my best friend, my life. I love you, Skip. You are 'perfect' for me.

During the time after our home burned down and realizing we had lost almost everything we had... I drank alot of coffee from that little mug that had become so precious to me... so, did Skip. (I will write later about being in more shock.. plus the shock I was now be only shocked again to realize that even people we knew... were stopping there to take things that did survive the fire, our things... you wouldn't believe).

We'd gotten up that morning and I'd showered and dressed to go to Curves and I would get there by 8:00 am when they opened. I was getting ready to walk out the back door when a 'soft red' glowing light caught the corner of my eye and I turned to see 'what in the world?'... and at the other door I saw that it was... on fire!

I instantly went on alert and in shock but, I was thinking to save our 4 pups and I had my purse already! I screamed to Skip who got up instantly, ran outside to begin trying to put the fire out with the garden hose. I, somehow, got our big pups into my Expedition and rolled the windows down some... and backed it out of the driveway down the street so, our pups could be contained and be safe!

I ran back (I could feel such pain from 2 major surgeries... through my shock from lifting and carrying each dog out to my Expedition.. I couldn't take the chance they'd escape! Skip had also, had 2 major surgeries he come through since I had!)... I ran back to the house looking for Skip. Walter had come running up the street after seeing the house was on fire.. and .... I was in shock... thereafter... I have fleeting memories of many things.

I was standing there watching that two-story house burn... Tommy's things (his valuable knife collection and old coins and his huge jug filled with hundreds of dollars in change he'd saved for several years, his diving equipment that was still new, his whole room of belongings, all of our belongings... were going up in smoke.

These are some of the impressions and thoughts I had as I watched our home burn down, our life go up in smoke........ I found out later that Skip had went back into that house to get his wallet and... almost didn't make it out. His leg had a burn on it and some of his hair was singed. I think Walter's voice led him out as he called for him.

Earline was somehow there (our precious neighbors Bill and Earline) and she was crying... I never wanted to see her cry and I remember as I stood there watching in shock our 'home' going up in smoke.. for a moment I became aware of myself... patting her shoulder and comforting her by telling her 'everything is going to be alright, everything is going to be alright'. Just only for a brief second... I was amazed at myself.. it was like I was trying to tell 'myself' the ..same thing.

I kept seeing myself standing here and standing there (just like when Tommy died... I became a leaf blowing in the wind only to move when the wind blew me...... and I stopped.. when the wind stopped... moved when it blew... from here and there).

I can imagine how only my eyes just moved and in my mind I can 'see' at this moment... how silent all seemed and the red-hot flames on the roof and in the windows and... it makes me feel alittle ... shaky ..thinking about it, even now. It was just too real, it was real and it was so scary. I'm afraid of fire now, and feel very nervous if I see or smell smoke... once my mind has identified 'where and what' it's coming from... only then, am I okay.

My eyes were seeing the firemen and the hoses spraying water on the huge house. I saw one of the fireman take one of Tommy's air tanks that he used to go deep-sea diving just that past summer... he put it on the firetruck. I just saw it and ... at that moment I would have never thought to ask 'why did you do that?'

Cotton was saying 'Gloria, everything's going to be alright... you'll come out smelling like a rose'. He stood there talking to me about making sure everything would be alright... he got sick and died just weeks after that. Things weren't alright for a long time after that. We lost everything we had and could have lost our lives. He never got to keep his promise. He and his wife were standing there beside Skip and I. He knew that the wiring in the house was old and that it needed to be replaced. There was a new box on the outside...the old wire was still there. It hadn't been changed out.

I saw firemen at the back of the house (how I'm moving ...I can't see 'me' doing that... it's like 'I'm there' at different places without any recollection of 'how' I got there).... the flames seemed under control... I could see through the house where the wall once was ... there was the new wardrobe Skip and I had recently purchased to put clothes in... he'd gotten one, also. I had put my red leather jewelry case in there with my diamond and gold rings and my big diamond and birthstone ring in it. My jewelry was very valuable and at that moment, my thought was 'maybe that made it through this fire'.

I asked one of the firemen if he would 'just reach there' and I told him 'where'... and see if there was a red leather jewelry case. He did so, and his hand came back with my jewelry case and he handed it to me. It had been under a stack of clothes... saving it! Nothing was wrong with my jewelry case!

I remember how one of the fireman handed me some bottles of pain medicine that I wouldn't take but, kept getting refilled and just putting the bottles up 'in case'... I have always had a fear of being addicted to drugs... this is a long story and one I'll get to later 'one day'. I can't tell you the pain I live in from those surgeries... 7 days a week, 24 hours a day. It was my trade-off to live, and God I wanted to live. I love life. I still live with that pain every moment of my life... that's alright... I'm strong and I want to live.

I looked at those bottles in amazement thinking I couldn't believe that medicine bottles survived in that fire... and later, when I looked back in my mind... I felt terrible because that fireman probably thought I was a drug addict.... when he saw that pain medicine. What else was he to think? He didn't know me and didn't know that I've been diagnosed with cancer nor about the surgeries to save my life. I felt so ashamed of ....something that I wasn't.

I'm standing there at the porch where the new light fixture had been put in ... just as new tile and new countertops had been put in not long before the fire.

The new light fixture is where the fire began (later... I saw the man who had put it in ..standing there and I could 'feel' he was very upset... he didn't see me because he was so deep into thought... he wasn't a licensed electrician. I kept on driving slowly past to wait to come back after he left. We cared about this man. Not long afterwards, he was living in Florida and.. we got to talk to him several times.. he called us.

Our home burned down on December 28th, 2004. Later.. I found out that was on Wm Ernest's birthday... my brother who lives in Florida.

My cousin, Sylvia, came and she had an envelope in her hand and gave it to us. She gave us a sum of money... $500.00. I remember my eyes filling with tears and being so ... amazed that Sylvia was there after all that time... and she'd do such a thing for us.

Sylvia began giving us household things and she was in the process of getting more money and things to help us... I found this out later... because something so awful happened... that's hard for me to talk about now.

I still have a problem remembering on exactly which date it happened on after our home burned down. My mind says... 3 days. But... I think it was 4 days? I still have a problem remembering 'which' day...

January 01, 2005... we 'moved' to our new place without much of anything to our name (our home burned down on December 28, 2004). Sylvia and her husband came there to see us.

I remember sitting on the big rug on the carpet looking up at Sylvia sitting in the only chair in the living room... a rocking chair. She was talking to me and I remember her bursting into tears .. she was worried about her girls. Sylvia loved her 3 daughters, I saw it in her eyes and I heard it in her voice.

We talked for a long time, and I thanked her from my heart for all she'd done for us (I didn't know at the time how much she was still trying to help us... thank-you, Sylvia... I never got to thank-you, again).

We spoke of Ray, her brother (I used to think of him as 'brother' when I was little)... he'd 'committed suicide' just 3 months before...... it hurt both of us. We discussed what she thought ... happened.

That visit .. we'd also, made a promise that 'for the rest of our lives' we'd be close and not let anyone break us apart ...again. Strangely enough... that was the only promise we ever made and kept... because the 'rest of her life' was the next day.. or was it the day after that? The 2nd.. or was it the 3rd of January?

In 'our family'... no one could ever be close for long... it just didn't happen. Someone was always watching and waiting... to strike the 'death blow' to any kind of a close, loving relationship... and strike it... they did. It never failed... our 'family'... vipers, black widow spiders..........scorpions.

That evening when Sylvia and her husband were leaving... I noticed how the winter sun was shining through the bare trees where Sylvia was standing... I never forgot it and each winter we lived there... I'd always think of her standing in that very spot.

The sun was getting ready to set and was low in the sky and Sylvia was standing between the sun and I... we were standing up at the top of the sidewalk up on that 'little mountain' we'd just come to begin living at.

I was looking at Sylvia... and how the sun was shining on her blonde hair and how 'pretty' she looked and how bright her smile was.. and I felt such love for my cousin that I hadn't felt in all those years. Again... I noticed how much 'prettier' she'd become............ the sun was shining 'gold' around her.

Alot of times in the years we lived there the wintertime I'd walk up to the top of the sidewalk to 'imagine' Sylvia standing there.... between me and the sun... to 'see' ..her again. Sylvia, I'll never forget you. You came to help me when I didn't know you could care.... right before your death. I never got to do special things back in appreciation for all you did, for you.

I was really happy she'd just come back into my life... she made me feel comfort... and my heart felt warm toward her. Sylvia, that was the last time I saw 'you'.... the last time I saw 'you' was so horrible that I don't know if I can write it... for a moment just now, I kept typing and messing up.. typing and messing up ...

I forgot... I also, saw you at the funeral home when they didn't want to open your casket. That day I 'saw' alot in that room that your body was in... and 'heard'. 'Our family'......... is something else... I'm telling you. At least they came... no one came to us when our home burned down... excepting for my brother, Rick-Rick.

Mama, all of you... where were you.. why didn't you come there for me? Where were all of you when just several years before when I was dying.... no one came. Skip called... no one ever came but, my brother, Rick-Rick. I was so ill and couldn't talk but, my eyes saw my brother, Rick-Rick... he'd come to the hospital. Tommy was in Germany, not knowing anything... because I made Skip not tell him ...yet. I was afraid he'd die trying to get to me from across that ocean... and he WOULD have come across that ocean to his Mama.

I will write later of the vultures who came to the hospital monitoring my progress 'if' I'd live or if I'd die... and how that affected the inheritance my Grandmother Lola and Aunt Patsy had told me about since I was 9 years old. 'Thank-God for step-mothers and fathers'........ I shake my head when I think of my step-mother and father... you know... my daddy used to work in a carnival when he was a young boy.. that's where my 14 year old mother met him... he charmed her. They didn't stay married long... they say he walked out the day I took my first step... at 9 months old. They called him 'Gypsy' through the years... Hey, those step-mothers are... slick, too.

My brother, Rick-Rick, how I loved you and at this moment how my heart hurts to think of you. I remember seeing you crying and seeing your eyes, your face when you ran to me standing there in front of that house burning... I can't write anymore at this moment about my precious brother, Rick-Rick.. it's the pain in my heart. I'm crying at this very moment... how about that?

So much pain... always so much pain. I love you, Rick-Rick and you are... also, gone. I have your ashes here in our home, in my happy artroom beside Mom's ashes and Jimmy's ashes. Yes, there's always so much ...pain in my heart. Most all my memories.... even the happy ones ... end in pain.

I, also, think of Sylvia just before the fire several days before, when we saw her.... she had on the softest pink top and her blonde hair was fixed so pretty and she had on gold glasses... pink, gold, yellow and blue... Sylvia's eyes were blue. Sylvia looked extra-pretty that evening.

Those are the colors I think of Sylvia The colors in my mind for Sylvia are pink, yellow and gold, and blue. The strange thing is at that time.. I noticed how extra-pretty Sylvia had become. That's not to say that she wasn't attractive already... I mean something else made her that way. I wonder if 'before' we go sometimes... if 'that' has anything to do with us looking so......'special' in some way?

January 02.... January 03... January 02... January 03... January 02, 2005???

Ms Nancy has to remind me each year of which date is her birthday and which date is ..... when Sylvia .... died. It hurts me so much when I think back...

At this moment ..I'm thinking that January 02, 2005 is when Sylvia was killed. I'm thinking January 03rd is Ms Nancy's birthday. I know Ms Nancy will write in a comment below later, after reading this to remind me.... again. I need her to do that... 'that same time of the year is again'.

Tomorrow is the date when our home was destroyed by fire. Tomorrow is my brother's birthday... Happy Birthday, Wm Ernest, I love you. I've cried many tears for you, just as I have for our brother, David. I'm so sorry life has taken us so far away from each other on different paths. When we all meet at times... I wish... yes, I wish................ Life is like that. Life just happens that way.

Ms Nancy, I'm coming back around to you before I stop writing for now... when I speak of the mug of hot coffee and the coffeemaker... the night at the motel the Red Cross got for Skip and the Pups, and I... you know about.

You see... Ms Nancy seemed to somehow be 'there' when we would be at the place where our home burned down... we'd be there trying to savage and find things that didn't burn... especially moreso, when 'friends' and 'neighbors' and people driving by... were competing with us... to find 'our' things... and drive off with them.

Our good neighbors watched and they told us 'who' was doing it... some of them coming back only moments after we'd leave, over and over. I'll never forget those 'good friends and those very good neighbors' who did that... because I know who you are... so does everyone else. We gave you things and you still... came back after we'd leave and you would 'take'..... I forgive you, but, shame on you.

We would have given you most anything if you'd asked... but, you knew that. Life is like that, life happens like that, sometimes. Even in front of people who are ...watching you.

Now... for Ms Nancy.... she gave that coffeemaker, and a big canister of Folger's coffee, and packages of hot chocolate with little marshmallows in it, and .... two nice coffee mugs. That's who gave us that ...comfort and warmth... that was like a little island in the sea... that we came back to ...over and over to 'reach out' get more of.

Yes... Ms Nancy... you are special, more than my words can say. Skip is always amazed that you and I are... childhood friends... you are from my 'past'. I love you, Ms Nancy. You seem to 'know' without being asking or someone telling you... what is so meaningful in life.

I treasure you, my childhood and 'the rest of my life ...friend'. Now.. to be funny here for a moment (you and I always are.... I see no reason not to be here either... 'it's us')............ We are the 'beginning and ending friends', ha! With no between! It is just something that came through my mind... and hit me as humorous.

To describe you in colors.... would be strong, bold colors of yellow, red, orange, blue and green, purple.. you are the colors of fun, your personality bright and funny reflecting warmth.. and comfort. You are alot like the coffee mugs and coffeemaker and coffee, and hot chocolate you gave to us, Ms Nancy. This is not saying you are a cup, or a pot of coffee, now! You are the kind of person everyone would want for a friend, or to be around in an emergency... you instinctively know what's needed... you somehow 'know' just the right thing. That's..... that Ms Nancy!!!

For now... I've looked back... enough. I have to do this... alittle at a time. You know how it is.. sometimes it does hurt and it takes a little time to recoup from... memories. They can weaken one and it's like a person getting too close to the heater... it gets too hot... so, to feel better one has to move back... until another time.

My memories, even my happy ones, have pain in them. Though I'm strong enough and grow moreso, each day... sometimes, they catch me by surprise and make me feel emotions I wouldn't have thought. I've felt quite a few as I wrote this... I really felt like crying so much because I miss my brother, Rick-Rick, my son, Tommy... Sylvia, even if we didn't have years of being close.. we did have the promise we made.. for the 'rest of our lives'.. you kept that promise but, it was too quick.

Do you know? We just don't know how long... the rest of our lives is. I feel just the strangest feeling in my heart's of sadness for people I loved so much, and through the years they never loved me the same way. What a family we'd all been if everyone shared the love in their hearts if it were 'like the love in my heart that's been there... always'. I never took my love away... they would give and take... give and take. That's the way life is and as my brother, Rick-Rick would have said (he was more blunt than I am!!!).... he would have said  '_____ happens!'