'Be Damned' ... I'd Feel Bad For Doing It!

'Be Damned' ... I'd Feel Bad For Doing It!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photo is of me, owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka Granny Gee as young woman ...


　

You damn hellion, you! You better quit driving so fast! If you get in a wreck, you deserve to, you little bitch! The woman raved, white foam spewed out of her mouth.

I didn't feel rebellious until she uttered those words. Truthfully, it pissed me off. I was a teenager of seventeen ... you know how teen-agers are!

I looked at her, squinted my eyes. She stood on her front porch at the end of the dirt road where I stopped at ... for the stop sign. Little bitch? Hellion? I deserved to be in a wreck? Drive fast? I'll show her ass who drives fast!

The next thing I know ... the car spun out into the road, and I was changing gears like a boss! Man, the gears sounded good under my hand. I'd learned how to drive a straight shift, and by God ... I could drive that car!

I left black marks behind me ... and I know a string of curses were delivered in the air toward me! I could still hear that woman's hateful voice screaming at me ... at me! I was mad. To be truthful, my feelings were hurt, also. She didn't have to talk to me like that. She really didn't know me, I didn't know her. Now ... there was no chance I'd let her know me. Damn, I hated her!

I drove the fourteen miles to town, squealing around curves until I calmed down. Once, I almost wrecked, going off a high mountain. I was so mad, I don't know if I would have felt it!

I made it a point to spin off at that sign every time I stopped there, until several months later ... I began to feel bad about doing that. I stopped doing it.

I didn't like to hurt people ... I was learning in life not to ... I had been brought up 'to fix someone's ass' if they bothered you. Not only that ... fix their ass good, 'and I mean 'good'.

The strange thing was ... I never enjoyed doing that. I was at the age where I was learning from my actions. I could lose my temper ... pay someone's ass back ... and 'be damned' ... I'd feel bad for doing it!



Photo Credit/Story Credit is owned by me... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
　

Just A Tiny, Little Secret :)

Just A Tiny, Little Secret :)
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photo is of me, owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka Granny Gee .......................
　

　


When I write, I write 'my way' ... it's just the way it is. It's 'my way or ... no way'. :) It's the 'Gloria Way'.

You know life is like that ... we have to be ourselves ... if not, it's hard to be happy. Do you agree ... or are you a follower, do everything 'someone else's way'?

I use punctuation, capitalization ... my way. I 'feel' what 'I am' writing ... and 'take it from there'.

I don't know if anyone has noticed ... when I capitalize a word when it doesn't need to be?

If you will notice, I capitalize ... heart. Why? Because when I mean something very much ... I will capitalize the first letter when it doesn't have to be. It's just the way it is ...

My Heart ... is more than just a heart ... so, it deserves to be more special than just an ordinary lower case 'h'. I wonder who else does such?

Now ... if you read this far ... you will notice that I told you one of my tiny, little secrets ... not only that ... I was shy to tell you about it ...


Photo/Story is of me, written ... owned by me... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Did I Tell You I Loved That Sound ... Don't Ask Me 'Why'?

Did I Tell You I Loved That Sound ...  Don't Ask Me 'Why'?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photos of me as a three year old little girl ... I loved everyone ... This was before 'Hell'.
Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee (I own photo/story).


　

　

I stood on the pavement, looking through the chain-link fence. I walked several steps farther until I was looking through the opened gate.

The sun shone brightly; the breeze caressed my face, my hair. What a beautiful day. I could hear ... that ... sound!

My eyes followed the neat, graveled road up a hill to the top. I could see what was making the sound I heard. For some reason ... I really like that sound. Don't ask me 'why' ... I couldn't answer you.

There was a big flagpole standing above the graves below. The cords were gently rocking in the wind. When they blew out from the pole, they fell back with a soft clang. I stood listening to that sound. Did I tell you that I loved that sound ... but, didn't know 'why'?

I decided to walk up the graveled road. My steps took me past graves of people I remembered as a child. Some people I liked ... some, I didn't like.

I walked to the top of the hill, stood at the base of the flag pole. I listened to my heart's content of the sound of cords gently blowing in the wind, tapping music out on the flag pole.

My eyes looked down at the graves of soldiers from long ago. I looked back to the flag pole ... I knew the music was special. For some reason, it touched my soul; 'why' ... I don't know.

I was in the cemetery I had been introduced to as a very little girl of four, maybe five years old. Teenage girls were baby-sitting me at the time. They got the bright idea to walk to the cemetery the night I was with them.

I loved walking along side the big girls. I loved hearing them laugh, giggle about boys, and what else I can't remember. I felt safe!

We got to the very gate I just walked into ... the night light was shining down on us. They began giggling; one said 'come on'!

I followed them into the cemetery. Somehow, I knew it was for dead people ... I felt a little fear. I knew they were big girls, I trusted them.

One girl began making a moaning sound like a ghost. I felt a thrill go through my body ... looked around. 'Someone' might ... wake up! I was beginning to want my mama ....

They led me almost to the top of the hill where the flag pole sat .... began squealing, saying 'run'! I saw all of the girls run fast; there wasn't any way I could keep up with the big girls! They left me in that cemetery!

I began crying, almost fell to the ground. The fear was overwhelming to this little girl. Those dead people were going to get me! I just knew they were going to get me! I cried to the girls to 'please come back'! I heard laughing, giggling.

How my little feet kept walking, running to get out of that cemetery, I'll never know. I was hysterical by the time I reached the girls. They began hugging me, saying all was alright, and to please never tell anyone.

I never told anyone ... that was the beginning of things I never told anyone as a child. 'That' ... I could have put into words ... other things at that age ... I didn't know the words for.

I stood there as an adult, picturing in my mind that little girl. A little, slightly chubby girl with long hair she could sit on ... pretty.

I pictured her little face as the realization dawned on her at what the big girls were going to do. Her eyes got big ... fear filled her little body, almost making it impossible to move.

I could hear her little girl voice begging those big girls to please come back ... to 'please don't leave me'!

I smiled a sad, little smile ... then ... as I heard the flag pole 'music', I relaxed, smiled a happy smile. Did I tell you that I loved that sound? Don't ask me 'why'?

...............................

Photo/Story Credit belongs to me. Photo is of me; story written by me. This is a true story when I was little ... how I feel as an adult listening to the 'music' of the flag pole, today. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka &grannygee

IN LIGHT There Are Shadows ... But, Not 'Scary' Shadows

In Light There Are Shadows ... But, Not 'Scary' Shadows
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photo is of me as a young woman ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka Granny Gee ................


　


I was reading over my last post/story ... and laughed at myself. I got very caught up in my writing about light, shadows ... good shadows, happy shadows, bad shadows.

I wrote that in light, there are no shadows ... I didn't say that I meant ... there are no 'scary' shadows.

I wrote so much about the dark, and shadows ... that when I got to 'light and shadows' ... in my mind, I wasn't seeing any dark shadows in a lot of light!

I am writing this to let everyone know what I meant. I'm sure there are many people who ... understood what I meant, though. :) Many people know me by now, they can understand sometimes, I say things in a different way.

By the time I wrote my last sentence, and title ... in my mind thinking about a lot of light ... I wasn't seeing any shadows at all.

I'm a person who doesn't like the darkness ... only when the pain of life happens in my life ... do I welcome it. It's a protective blanket to blind me to what's happened until time to become brave, strong enough to come back ... take on life once again.

I love shadows ... happy, cosy, comforting shadows. I'm uneasy if I can't identify shadows when it's in a scary setting. I've been in places in my life ... where bad things happen ... not all shadows are 'good'.

One example ... as a teenager, I was walking back to my mother's home from my grandmother's ... they lived a mile apart. I was walking on the sidewalk under huge, old trees that almost closed out the light from the night lights.

Someone was following me ... when I stopped to look back ...the footsteps stopped. I would walk quietly, and hear them following me! I began to run ... the footsteps ran, also. I looked back ... a dark shadow was chasing me!

Just as I got to the corner to turn to go up the hill to my mother's home ... the footsteps caught up to me, and a voice called out to me.

It was a young, black man calling me by my name only my family members knew to call me. I was very frightened of him. I kept running ... I slowed to a walk in my mother's yard. As I walked toward the porch, I ran into a 'damn' spider web!

I almost fainted, felt very weak. I made it up to the porch, and tried to get my composure. I knew my mother would make me quit walking if she knew what had happened.

When I went inside, she told me that I looked as if I'd seen a ghost. I reassured her all was fine!

Anyway ... that's an example of scary shadows from the dark! I never did know, or see the young man who chased me ... if I ever saw him again in this life ... I didn't realize it. I sure didn't stop that night to find out who he was! I felt ... danger!




Photo of me; story written by me.  Both are owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka #Granny Gee

　

　

　

　
　

Where There Is Light ... There Are No Shadows

Where There Is Light ... There Are No Shadows
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

A special friend made this lamp for us.  I love the shadows it creates through the pieces of colored glass... I could sit and look at it for long periods of time.  These are soft, happy, comforting shadows.  Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee...




Some time ago, I read that in darknessness, there aren't any shadows (I saw this on a Facebook page).  Isn't that something to think about?


Reading this, caught my attention, made me think.  When I was in the periods of darkness in my life ... looking back, I can see I never saw a shadow.  I just never thought about it before.


I love shadows in the light ... happy shadows.  There are familiar shadows I look for ... if the conditions are right. 


For example ... when I walk into a room with window blinds, and plants sitting on the window sill ... I look for something special (special to me, maybe not to you). Those are the shadows the blinds, plants, maybe people ... would make on the opposite wall.


When I used to work at the hospital, in the evenings I would walk to the dining room; I always looked for such shadows.  It brought out the artist in me.  I wanted to sit, draw the shadows I saw.  I can't describe the effect it had on me. 


That 'something' was ... the way the sunlight came through the plate glass through the open window blinds.  The light played with the plants, throwing shadows on the wall.  When two people were sitting at a table underneath the window ... it completed what I was looking for.

I would look on the opposite wall, and feel happiness at seeing the shadows of the window blinds, plants, people... especially when all was ... still.  I wanted to draw, paint the shadows.


I could sit, look at shadows for a long time.  I'm always amazed at how one's shadow could ... be recognized.


Remember in school, in elementary school, how we drew our own sillohette on black construction paper?  We'd put them in frames to carry home to give to parents.  I don't remember anyone ever appreciating mine, but ... that didn't take away from the pleasure of doing it.


Shadows are amazing, fun.  When walking, moving around ... it's fun to watch them stretch out, get fat, change shapes constantly.  I shadow-watch ... as well, as people-watch!


There are no shadows in the dark.  I've lived in darkness ... I don't recall ever seeing one. 
Soft, black darkness like a comforting blanket.  No light to make one see the pain of life.  There are no shadows in the dark.  Where's there is light, there are shadows.


Shadows that come alive with movement; some happy ... some sad; some shadows are really bad.  One thinks of horror stories, black shadows that harm; shadows lurking to jump out from the semi-darkness to get us!


Leave the lights on for me when it's dark.  Where there is light ... there are no shadows!



Photo Credit/Story ... Photo is of a beautiful lamp our friend, Cindy, made for us.  I love this lamp.  Both photo and story are owned by me... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka &grannygee

When I Hate You! Means I Love You

When I Hate You! ... Means I Love You
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka Granny Gee ...  this little girl loved her mother with all her heart.


　

I hate you! I hate you! The little girl was crying uncontrollably. A bright, red handprint blazed across her face. Someone had slapped her ... slapped her ... some kind of hard!

You ain't my mama, anymore! Leave me alone! Leave, and stay longer this time! The little girl of ten was hurt deeply ... she only knew it as anger. The angrier she was ... the more she hurt.

Her mother's eyes were angry ... she turned, walked away. She was just a young woman. She had no business with a child. She loved to roam, travel places ... stay gone as long as she wanted to. She had ... wanderlust.

She had to go ... she didn't mean to slap her little girl, but sometimes ... that child made her so mad! Now, she was leaving, didn't have time to make it up to her.

The little girl stood in the living room looking through the window. Her little shoulders shook as the sobs tore through her body. Mama! Don't go! Mama, I don't hate you! Please don't leave me here!

She watched her mother get into a car ... the car backed out of the driveway. The little girl sunk to her knees, fell to the floor. She cried until she fell asleep.

When she woke up ... she felt scared. Her mother was gone, and she'd told her she hated her! She loved her mama, and the more she loved her ... the more she hated her for leaving her!

Several months passed ... the little girl heard a door slam outside in the driveway. She ran to the door ... everything else around her faded ... she focused on the beautiful woman smiling at her. She began to run! Mama! I love you, mama! I missed you! I don't hate you! Her mother held her close.

This is when ... I hate you, means ... I love you. This is a true story of a little girl's mother who had wanderlust. She'd leave the little girl in Hell while she traveled, for months at a time.

The little girl would become so upset that she'd cry hysterically, scream that she hated her mama ... it wasn't so, she loved the ground her mama walked on.

She didn't know how to tell her mama to not go away, again. Anger, pain made the little girl feel hate ... which was strong love for her mother.

I hate you, mama! It means I love you so much, please don't leave me, again!

　

Photo Credit/story is of, owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka &grannygee.

This is a true story ... I knew that little girl well ... I used to be her. My mother had me at fourteen years old ... she was still playing with dolls. She didn't know how to care for a child ... she was one, herself.

My mother was a beautiful woman. She was a good person ... she just didn't know how to be a mother to a little girl. As I became older, I could understand ... and forgave. I loved my mother with my Heart. She was very good to me years later, until the day she died.

I Don't Want To Know ... Then, again ...

I Don't Want To Know ... Then Again ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... Photo is of me, owned by me..................


I wonder if one day we'll give out of water ... be able to breathe clean air?

I wonder if we'll have terrorist attacks in the USA ... I do worry about ISIS. I've read a lot, also ... keep up with what's going on in the world ... so, it could become reality. Our world will be forever changed if such happens. I pray that it never will.

ISIS is something we as Americans have never seen the likes of. They are more sophisicated, top what we've ever known. Just saying that, after listening to it being said over, and over on the world news ... seems to make them 'more' intimidating'. Scary ...

Do you think we'll have war on our soil ... American soil? Isn't this a scary question? My heart breaks watching the war-torn areas around the world ... innocent people have to die in the process of war ... people who didn't opt for it.

I have many feelings about this ... I don't talk to anyone about them, excepting Skip. So many people don't keep up with what's going on in their world around them ... they focus only on the world they live in ... their immediate world. That's scary, too.

Some people don't watch the local news to know what's going on; much less watch the weather. I am amazed ... these are things I do ... want to know. I watch the world news late into the night to know what's happening in the whole world.

As for things that haven't happened ... hopefully, they won't ... I don't want to know... then, again ...

　

Photo/story credit is owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka &grannygee
　

Christmas Happiness ... and Victoria Fairchild

Christmas Happiness ... and Victoria Fairchild
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... (sometimes, I do posters, greeting cards)

　

I walk through the house ... stop, turn around ... look back. I smile; I did what I meant to do. I feel a 'Christmas Happiness' inside ... my house is clean.

Have you ever done that? I know we all clean house each day, tidy up all the time. So, all is neat ... sometimes, just a 'neat clutter'... until things are put away.

At certain times of the year, you want all to be sparkling clean ... for the holidays. You 'know it inside' ... when all is 'clean enough'. You feel a wonderful, soft happiness inside.

It has taken two days for me to do what I normally do in one day ... and I still have today ... so, three days to do what I wanted to do. That's to clean the house thoroughly. Why? It's not Christmas, or Thanksgiving? No one's coming to visit ... Tommy's not coming home to enjoy relaxing at 'Mom and Skip's'...

Well, I have two things in mind I am going to begin doing. That's to walk ... and write. I'm beginning on The Saga Of Victoria Fairchild ... I will re-read all I've written (69 pages) ... and take my story up from there.

I know my first book about Victoria Fairchild was 'thin'. It was an introductory to Victoria; to give everyone an idea of what she is about. She's an extraordinary person who has many talents.

Victoria Fairchild believes in an eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth. She loves the homeless people, animals ... and the underdog. Woe unto the one she catches ... mistreating either. They will rue the day ... they did ... if they ... live.

One might say Victoria Fairchild is ruthless. If she has to be, she is. She takes care of business. She's a good person who loves, cares about every living soul ... unless it's a mean soul. They are the ones who don't want to meet up with the likes of Victoria Fairchild.

In this world ... we all need 'mean people' to varying degrees. Think about it ... if 'you aren't mean enough' to stop someone from harming a person, animal from being abused, tormented ... you 'need just a little bit meaner person'. Victoria is strong enough ... for all.

Sure, sometimes ... you'll think Victoria does some cruel, and unusual things to punish someone. Life is like that ... sometimes.

Who is Victoria Fairchild to take it upon herself to do the things she does? A beautiful, wonderful person who cares with her heart that people, animals are treated good. When she touches someone's life, she does it in a good way ... she expects others to do the same. When they don't ...

Truthfully, whether you want to admit it, or not ... there are some mean people in this world who gets off on seeing others suffer. They thrive on others' pain. They enjoy hurting them both mentally, physically. They love to see ... blood. They love to hear someone crying, screaming ...

Think about it ... they are no good to the world when they only harm good, innocent, weak people ... animals. Can you say they are good for anything? I didn't think so. Well, Victoria Fairchild knows what to do with them ... they'll never harm another living soul again.

Christmas Happiness ... and Victoria Fairchild are the thoughts I have on my mind ... this morning. (I'm so glad my home is so clean! :)


Photos / story owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka &grannygee

Can I Target Practice On Your Green Man?

Can I Target Practice On Your ... Green Man?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

　


I have a wooden green man nailed up at the shed where we park our cars. I love that ... green man.

He can bend his arms, knees, ankles ... well, I would have to bend them for him.

He can sit in a chair ... one could sit a flower pot, or ... yourself in his lap.

That's all I can think of that he 'can do'. Oh, he's just 'hanging around', now. I saw my green man some years ago ... at a yard sale.

Yesterday, our friend walked over, sat down at the picnic table. He caught sight of my green man.

What in the world is that, Gloria? That's my green man! What is your green man for? I told him. He didn't say anything, until ... today.

He called Skip. "Hey, Skip, ask Gloria if I can come over, target practice on her green man?"

　

Photo Credit/Story is owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka &grannygee

This is a true story ... every man that sees my green man ... wants to target practice with it! No!

Sleep ... To Visit The AfterLife

Sleep ... To Visit The Afterlife
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Tommy, and his beautiful little son, Taban ... a very special child in my Heart ........



Walking down the dark road, I saw headlights coming toward me. Run! Run! I began to run until I came to a place that bushes weren't covering the rail fence. I climbed over it quickly.


I saw my friend, Ms Nancy, who had somehow separated from me. She held her hand out to reach for mine. I grabbed it. Come! She pulled me behind her ... we ran fast. Danger! Danger!


We ran to a forest. She must have known the way, because soon ... we were safe, it was okay to get my breath. Somebody wants to kill me. Why?
In this dream, I was constantly running away from danger. I never knew 'who, where' the danger was coming from.


Suppose I was living in the afterlife in my dream ... that wouldn't be good. I don't the afterlife would be bad ... maybe I went to Hell in that dream ... mmm-mmmm.


I dream in color. I can't imagine dreaming in black and white, or in gray. I hear people say that's all they dream in. Boring ...


I love colors ... I follow colors ... sometimes, they can get me ... in trouble. Well ... not real trouble. :) But, I may forget where I am, follow without looking where I'm going. I could wander off ... leave everyone behind. :)

Sometimes, when I dream I see Tommy. Tommy, my son who died May 29, 2010 on the shore at Myrtle Beach, SC. He'd been running, playing for the first ... last time with his little three year old son at the beach. He'd been looking forward to doing ... just that.


I remember his face telling me he was going to play with Taban at the beach. I remember his eyes telling me. I remember looking at him while he spoke. He had a glow about him ... the sunshine glow that happened each, every time he smiled.


He had the biggest smile on his face. Going to the beach to play for the first time ever with his little son ... was very important to him. That moment forever ... stayed one of my last memories of my son.
This was the evening before ... he collapsed while playing with Taban.


Thank-God, he did what he was truly wanting to do ... Taban can grow up knowing how special he was to his father. Also, at Tommy's last moments ... he was sending me some photos of Taban just before ... the phone fell out of his hand.


The thought came to me that suppose when we slept, we lived in another dimension ... the afterlife? I don't think we do because of all the crazy dreams we have at times.


Suppose ... the 'bad' dreams meant we visited ... Hell? The 'good' dreams ... meant we went to ... Heaven?


Wouldn't it be nice to have both options ... to sleep to visit our loved ones. Wake up to be in this world ... and when our bodies finally gave out on us ... we could choose to sleep forever, be home in the afterlife with our loved ones.


Oh, if one were tough enough ... choose to go to Hell, to visit someone? Mmmm-mmmm .....