Fairy Tales

As a child I loved fairy tales, one of my very favorite was The Twelve Dancing Princesses. The story tells of 12 princesses who were locked in their room each night, but each morning their shoes were worn through as if they had danced all night. Their father, the King, is determined to find out what is going on and so the story goes. Other favorite fairy tales were, The Princess and the Pea, Rapunzel, Rumplestiltskin.
There is the secrecy aspect of the fairy tale, as in the dancing princesses story, the king had to devise a way to find out what was going on. Fate happened to be on his side as an old soldier returning from war had a chance meeting with an old woman who gave him a cloak of invisibilty and advised him on what to do.
There can be someone who is villainous, as in Rumplestiltskin, what kind of a mean person would demand someone's child, he needed to be found out.
There is a test to be endured, as in The Princess and The Pea. How else could the Prince have known that she was a real Princess without that pea. After all, sensory integration disorder had not been discovered back then. But maybe, in fact, Hans Christian Andersen had it and incorporated it into his story.
All I know is that fairy tales are magical and everything turns out right in the end.

So Sad

    That is how I feel at this moment. A small baby girl, Olivia, just born has cancer. A friend of mine posted on Facebook asking for prayers for the baby and the baby's family.
    Yesterday my daughter's boyfriend, Roy, got news that his aunt, who was only 48, died suddenly.
    We should have no complaints, but cultivate an attitude of thankfulness and lift up others, who have need, in our prayers.

Just Kids

      I have finished reading a memoir called Just Kids by Patti Smith. It chronicles her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe, from their first meeting in New York City to Robert's death in 1989 and beyond.
     Johnny Depp calls the book a poetic masterpiece, a treasure chest. I, the reader, unlocked that treasure chest and found great delight at the treasure that was contained within.
     It is the personal journey of two young people who share the love of art, and all artistic expression, but it is also the story of two people who love one another. Nothing can destroy their love, it has even transcended death and lives on.
    This book also intertwines stories of the New York City of the 60's, stories of famous people that Patti met. My favorite story in the book is the story of how she met Sam Shepard. She had gone to the Village Gate, with Todd Rundgren, to hear a band, The Holy Modal Rounders, play. Just to show you the complete and utter charm of this book here are the exact words- "It was like being at an Arabian hoedown with a band of psychedelic hillbillies. I fixed on the drummer, who seemed as if he was on the lam and had slid behind the drums while the cops looked elsewhere."
     Patti subsequently goes on to tell of their introduction, she being told his name was Slim Shadow, and asking him for an interview, which he granted. He would later appear at her door at night, and they would go out and walk around together. She gets run down  and is advised by the doctor to eat red meat. She shoplifts 2 steaks at a store and is on her way home when she runs into Slim on the street, after a bit she admits to him that she has two raw steaks in her pocket, so they go back to her place, fry them up and eat them.
     He is concerned for her, and shows up a couple of nights later to take her out to eat at a place called Max's. While she is sitting there, with a big lobster in front of her, wondering if Slim can pay for the meal, she spies a friend of hers giving her hand signals. Thinking her friend wants some of her lobster she wraps a claw in a napkin, and meets her friend in the restroom. Her friend then informs her she is, in fact, dining with Sam Shepard. She goes back to the table and asks Slim if his name is Sam, his reply. "Oh yes, so it is." At that moment dessert arrives, an ice cream sundae. "Sam is a good name," I said. "It will work."  He said, "Eat your ice cream, Patti Lee."
    This book made me laugh, made me cry and above all filled me with appreciation. Patti truly has written a poetic masterpiece filled with passion. It makes me yearn for more.
link to Patti talking about NY and the beginning of hers and Robert's relationship http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=33QXPCAdoX8
 
                                                           

                                                    

Maine

     They say a picture is worth a thousand words, here are 9,000.
     When you first enter Maine you will see the sign at the top of the page, Maine, the way life should be.
     Our license plates say vacationland. Obviously we're not on vacation all the time, but I have to say Maine is a great state to live in.
     I wasn't always so enamored with this state that I was born and brought up in, I hated winter, we had a ton of snow, it seemed very deep, but then again I was a kid and much shorter.
     Maine has grown on me. I love the smell of the ocean in the air and the cry of the loon and seagull. There is nothing quite as soothing as the sound of the ocean waves rolling in and hitting the shore. There's nothing quite as beautiful as the spruce trees hugging the shoreline, rising in their green majesty towards the cerulean blue sky.
     I have always lived in Maine except for a short time I lived in Brooklyn, New York. I love New York City, but my heart belongs to Maine.
     My favorite time of year is right over the horizon, autumn. Our leaves will change to gold, yellow, red and orange. The nights will be cool, the days will be warm. The wood smoke will curl upward out of the chimneys and the air will be filled with the scent of ripening apples in the orchards. Farm stands will boast big orange pumpkins to be carved for Halloween and later cooked in pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. Lobster traps will be pulled for the season and wood will be stacked for the winter.
Next week the fair starts, everybody will be displaying their handmade crafts, rugs and quilts to name a few. The produce from people's gardens will be on display. I will post pictures next week from the farm museum and the exhibition hall.
Peace out. [][]__
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The Way It Goes

Have you ever said something to somebody or done something you wished you hadn't. You wish you could take back your words or actions, but you can't.
That's the way I feel right now. Last week a friend and I had a disagreement, I didn't act very well. I later apologized to her and she accepted my apology, but I just wish I had never spoken.
Then I compounded matters by doing something I thought was funny, but it wasn't, it ended hurting another friend of mine. When my friend called me on it I was upset, I didn't react very nicely.
In my heart I have good intentions, but it just doesn't come through. I felt so sad last week because one of the ladies where I work is having a serious health issue. Normally she and I get along, but I don't feel like I have been very nice to her lately. It made me cry because I don't ever want to tear someone down and hurt them. I believe that it hurts my soul when I am less than kind to others.
We never know what is behind another's actions or words. I remember when I was at a job one day several years ago, a child did something that was dangerous, I asked her to stop, she defiantly looked at me and said, you're not my mother. I kept cool and said, I know I'm not your mother, but I am here to keep you safe. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes and said, my mother left me. It was all I could do not to start crying. She was obviously heartbroken, had I gotten offended by her words and just told her to do what I said, she might never have confided her feelings. All I could do was hug her close and give her some comfort.
My husband always says, Let the people you love and care for know it, don't take them for granted. So if you're reading this I want to encourage you to let the ones you love know it.

Monhegan Island

I've heard it said that you should write about what you know. I believe that's true, at least for me, I can speak with more knowledge, passion and conviction when writing about the things I know.
I had the urge  to write about Monhegan. Monhegan is a small island about 11 miles off the coast of Maine. I emphasize the word small as it is about one square mile. There are next to no cars, maybe 2 at most, on the island, you walk everywhere.
I had just graduated from high school and I went there to work. The job wasn't the most terrific, the pay was atrocious, the living conditions worse, but the experience is something I will treasure.
I got off the ferry with my one suitcase of clothes and a box of books. Little did I know there was a truck sent down to transport us and our belongings to our living quarters. I struggled up the hill with my belongings.
As I walked I couldn't help but notice the beauty of the island. Weathered cottages and houses built next to each other. Wild roses trailing in the yards perfumed the air with a sweet fragrance. The scent of the roses mingled with the salt air and assaulted my senses. Freshly washed laundry hung on lines, gently waving in the soft ocean breeze.
I finally made it to the bunkhouse. Well what can I say, 18 girls and one bathroom, this was not good.
I picked a bunk and decided I needed a rest. Laying down I noticed several books piled on the beams. I thought, what friggin idiot would pile books on a beam. I met the idiot, her name was Katherine
Rhoda, before long she and I were best friends. She could play just about any instrument known to man, including a soda bottle and she loved to read, those two things alone were enough for me.
Most of our time was spent working, I had the glorious job of dishwasher. It was fun, especially when we got lobster back in the kitchen because the out of stater couldn't figure out how to get into the shell and get the meat out. The girls would fight to get that lobster, me, I didn't care for lobster. Jo, the old lady who owned the place did the cooking. Believe me she couldn't cook, I mean I like my roast beef rare, but I draw the line at raw. Fortunately we had a girl who did the baking, bread and such, so basically that's what I stuck to. Once a week Rhoda and I would take our meager earnings and shop at the general store, then stop on the way back up the hill at Diane's diner. She grew her vegetables out back so the salad was always fresh. We would always have the spaghetti with a small loaf of homemade bread and salad. We were probably carbed out but we walked everywhere.
Monhegan is an island that draws alot of artists and musicians. Every night after work we'd go to a party. It wasn't your usual get drunk party, no it was a jam session. Musicians would get together and play into the wee hours of the morning. Let me tell you, it was great, but not so great when you have to get up the next morning and go to work. I distinctly remember going to bed late one night, having a nightmare, sitting straight up in bed, the only trouble was that I was in a bunk bed. I bashed my head a good one. Some days I caught up on my sleep in between work shifts.
There is one side of the island that has no houses. It's a sheer drop down to the ocean. I used to take a book there and sit by myself and read. It was a wonderful place to be alone, the waves crashing against the rocks, a place of solitude and peace. As I describe it I almost feel like I am transported back to that place.
All things come to an end. Rhoda and I maintained contact for awhile, she went off to Oberlin college to study music. I came back to the mainland and would eventually get married. She visited us once in our little house. People come in to our lives for a space of time and go on their way. They leave memories behind of other times. As one of my favorite songs goes:

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some are gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

Why I Don't Watch The News

I will start off by saying I'm pretty conservative, but I have to say this, I am completely turned off by the attacks on both the right and the left.
I find it rather ironic that people preach tolerance yet have none for fellow human beings. I abhor the word tolerance anyway because it means I put up with you. I would rather have love, kindness and compassion. Does this mean I am perfect, by no means, I fail on a daily basis, but I generally come to my senses and can acknowledge I am being an idiot.
Just in the past few days I have acted like a total idiot. I had to apologize to a friend I consider to be dear to me. As I was walking this morning, which is not just my physical exercise, but also my time to meditate and ponder things within my own heart, a verse came into my head, Love bears all. I did a study on the word bears quite some time ago and from the original Greek it means to cover with silence. Someone once said, silence is golden. Now being someone who likes to know the origin of things I had to google the phrase, this is what I found- As with many proverbs, the origin of this phrase is obscured by the mists of time. There are reports of versions of it dating back to Ancient Egypt. The first example of it in English is from the poet Thomas Carlyle, who translated the phrase from German in Sartor Resartus, 1831, in which a character expounds at length on the virtues of silence. I like what the character says- Speech is too often not, as the Frenchman defined it, the art of concealing Thought; but of quite stifling and suspending Thought, so that there is none to conceal. Or in other words if you talk all the time there is no true thought behind it, it is simply mindless babble.
That is what I think the news is most of the time, mindless babble. Some of it informs, but alot of it is useless, there is no true thought behind it.
 Now being someone of deeply held convictions and passionate beliefs it is hard sometimes to control the tongue. But truly the one who has control of the tongue rules over the circumstances of life. Be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to anger. I find that when I listen, rather than just try to get my point across, I just may learn something.
To all of you who are reading my blog I hope you would open up your mind and your ears, listen to your fellow human beings, if we could all do this we may find we have more in common than we thought.

Africa, Oh Africa

If you gotta start somewhere why not here
If you gotta start sometime why not now
If we gotta start somewhere I say here
If we gotta start sometime I say now
Through the fog there is hope in the distance
From cathedrals to third world missions
Love will fall to the earth like a crashing wave-------Toby Mac

Tonight while driving home in my car I was listening to K LOVE radio station. The D.J. was talking about the famine in Africa. He said he was following Anderson Cooper on Twitter, the sadness of these children dying is almost than he can take.
 Here are some of Anderson's tweets-
600,000 kids on the brink of starvation. That should be a headline around the world."
Just got back from hospital in Mogadishu. A dead child lay on a bed. His parents sat silently by his side. There are no words.
Too few medical supplies in the hospital and too many malnourished kids. Their moms swat away the flies. There's little more they can do.

I know you've seen this before. I know it's an old story. But these little kids, they're dying before they've even had a chance.

I wish you could visit this hospital in Mogadishu. I wish you could spend ten minutes with these kids, these moms. Nothing here is fair.

The dead child's mother sat with his body for 2 hours. Her 2 other kids had already died. He was her last one. She had no money to bury him.

I don't know what this does to you, but it brings me to tears. Can we sit back in our comfortable lives and ignore our brothers and sisters in another part of the world who are dying from hunger. I can't. A friend of mine posted a link on Facebook, a link to donate. I am asking all of you to please, please, please help these people. They need a helping hand and we need to help. It is time for love to fall to the earth like a crashing wave, we need to be the wave of love that covers Africa.

Here is the link to donate, I have donated and I am asking you to do the same. 

https://secure.savethechildren.org/site/c.8rKLIXMGIpI4E/b.6239017/k.569B/Child_Hunger_Crisis_Fund/apps/ka/sd/donor.asp?msource=weecuchc0511

Sometimes

Sometimes I think to myself,
If not this life, what would I be.
A vagabond musician perhaps,
Sleeping under a leafy tree.
Laying down to take my rest
My coat would be my bed
A knapsack for my pillow
Where I would  rest my head
Sometimes I think to myself,
If not this house, where would I be.
I would travel the earth over,
Glorious sights I would see.
The Grand Canal of Italy
Where gondolas glide silently
The arc de triomphe and eiffel tower
A feast for the eyes in gay Paree
Then I look and I see
The beauty that surrounds me
Ocean waves that crash against the shore
The red and gold leaves of fall
All of this and so much more
The love in faces I hold dear
Makes it all perfectly clear
The sometimes are right in front of me
If I open my eyes, I will see

Life

Life is meant to be lived with joy.
Some of the things that make me joyful:
Jumping in puddles.
Reading a good book.
Creating anything
Cooking
Laughing over silly things
Witty people and you know who you are.
Little kids, especially when they behave themselves.
A good movie
A good song
Dancing
Jack and Megan
Walking outside
Swimming
Love
My friends