Some days you get brave enough to try for a dream you've had for over a year; today is that day!

I walked into a local Real Estate Office and asked about getting a storefront here on Main St. in the town where I live for my very own art gallery! Also as a place to live. This was very brave on my part, but it was time. I've been praying an unspoken prayer about this for a long time now...

As it turns out, there was a lady from Florida who just called that same Real Estate Agent looking for just such an artist yesterday!

GOD IS AT WORK...

Some Days Are Tough but SOOOooo... Full of Relief

FISH TANK!

Cute guppies... memories of childhood... SWEET!

Some days you just cannot even cough up an image, not to mention something worth saying! None the less, I just wanted to say that I love you all and that I shall write when I am feeling better... for instance, when I was this age, I had not yet learned to speak! I blathered on in endless unintellegible sylables, my mother told me later... these days I still blather on and on, but maybe sometimes I at least come up with sylables that can be understood, but only by a few chosen folks.

"the unloved, misunderstood, rejected, yet cherrished by few one"

PS. How can I share my name when I am not even sure of it, for my parents never totally agreed how it was to be spelled!

When You Walk Away For A Day...

Sometimes, a day out in the mountains can help clear your mind and heart, though the dilemma on your mind still remains. And so I ponder just what I should do, as it seems everyone loves me today, though a week ago I felt quite unloved!

This probably has more to do with my past than I'd like to admit. You see, when I was in the 6th grade, all the boys in my class decided that I was the most ugly girl, that I stank and so on. They picked on me and teased me mercilessly, until finally in desperation toward the end of the year I could not take it any more. Just one too many times was way too many and I beat the living daylights out of one of them! Schools seemed not to understand the dangers of bullying back then (1966) though I sadly must admit that kid ended up hospitalized with broken ribs and a concussion. I never got in trouble though, as he told his parents and the school he'd fallen off a building, probably too ashamed to admit a girl beat him up. His buddies knew the truth though, I'm sure. After that, none of them said a word to me. I was never invited out on any dates, to the prom or anything like that either.

So, these days, when folks seem to ignore me (though they probably just have things on their minds or are busy) I tend to feel unloved, unwanted, etc. Then when I get invited places and receive a lot of phone calls, I suddenly feel overwhelmed. Which invitation(s) should I accept, and which leave behind? Now, two fall on the same day, the same time!

I'm not one to toss a coin...

Hey! This is copyrighted, but for now don't bother asking by whom, OK? When I'm ready, you'll be one of the first to know, if you are signed up with me.

Torn Between Churches, But Not god(s)

There is only one God. Period.

I'm part Irish Catholic and part native american. I have other nationalities in my background too, though I don't know much about their history or bloodlines. To my ancestors, God is known as Jesus or The Great Spirit. As to what other names He goes by or is known by in other nations, or even if He is recognised by them at all, I could not say. I simply do not know; I had a crush on this good-looking fellow in my history classes, so I failed to pay attention.

I will say, though, that I did have one grandparent that assured everyone he was most proper and religious.  He was always finely dressed, wore expensive colognes, had perfect manners and yet never worked an honest day in his life! He even claimed to have royal blood! However, behind closed doors, when decent, hard working people outside our family had no idea what he was up to, he beat his wife, beat his children, did unspeakable despicable things which I'd not really wish to discuss nor mention further other than to say that he gained money by allowing others to do these things to me too.

That being said, I really cannot blame anyone if they know anyone like him, and concluded that religion is a bunch of hogwash!

However, I would like to caution folks that just because some individuals like this nasty grandfather of mine go to church and act all holy, that does not mean that God is not interested in your welfare! The fact is, He'd love to hear from you, no matter if you go to church or not. If you feel bashful to speak with Him, write Him a letter or even dedicate your journal to Him. He loves you! Oh, if you are shy, or don't know what to say, draw Him a picture! He loves those. They don't have to be like some fancy paintings on the ceilings of chapels in Italy either. Stick figures and funny faces will be just fine.

Also, remember, please: just because the majority of snooty people in one church refuse to open their hearts (or even their doors) to you, there might be a church not far from there that would welcome you.

So, even though I lay sobbing on the front lawn of the church of my ancestors this morning, in physical and spiritual agony, unloved and unwanted, I was hugged and welcomed warmly at another church about five miles from there this evening. Both churches have been informed by myself that I suffer from both mental and physical illness.

I believe, in both cases that God wanted me there though. So I went, to hear His Word preached excellently, and to be closer to Him. Both preacher and priests welcomed me warmly, I might add. (Gratefully too!)

Hey! This is copyrighted, but for now don't bother asking by whom, OK? When I'm ready, you'll be one of the first to know, if you are signed up with me.

My Most Precious Cross

One of my most cherrished possessions is without a doubt my olivewood cross. I bought it in a Thrift shop in Florida for less than a dollar. The folks who donated it, probably had no idea of its true value, monetary and otherwise, I'm sure. I believe it is made from olivewood and comes originally from the Holyland.

Hey! This is copyrighted, but for now don't bother asking by whom, OK? When I'm ready, you'll be one of the first to know, if you are signed up with me.

Which Ingredient Is Missing?

The Bible says, "God is Love."

So why is love seemingly the most difficult thing to find and keep on earth?

Divorce rates soar, wars have run rampant thoughout all of history, those suffering from hunger and poverty far far out number those who are well fed, own lots of property and are fat.

So one might rightrfully ask, "If 'God is Love' and God created this earth, why is love so hard to find!"

Love may not be so hard to find, really, or even keep! I daresay that it is Faith that is really the missing ingredient. Man's faith in God is sometimes such a tenuous thing, if he has any faith at all. And man's faith in man seems rather scarce as well, if not missing altogether.

For instance, someone will say, "God help anyone who comes into this house while I am out!"

"Really?" You might ask, if you actually thought about what had just been said.

Because if you examine it closely, you'd have to ask why they'd say such a thing, that is, if you have faith in God or believed that they had any.

Or how about, "God damn this weather! I was going to go out golfing today, sigh..."

Well! If the weather was that bad, why on earth would you ask Him to make it ten times worse?  In otherwords to damn it, like it will be the weather one should expect in hell if one were to end up there.

So, either folks who say such things don't have faith in God's ability to hear or answer their prayers, they don't believe in prayer or they don't even know they can pray! Prayer is simply a conversation with God which can be either very formal or quite informal. Usually, however, such people just think they themselves can handle it all and need no help to succeed from God or anyone else for that matter.

They won't ask God for help (in otherwords pray), nor will they ask a friend!

And so being self-sufficient has become fashionable, if not downright best-seller-list-multi-million-dollar-get-rich-quick kind of stuff!

Meanwhile, faith is left behind as the orphaned or widowed step-child that she is these days.

Hey! This is copyrighted, but for now don't bother asking by whom, OK? When I'm ready, you'll be one of the first to know, if you are signed up with me.

The Recipe

My Spiced Mocha~Java Recipe

I am least of all a neat, organized or traditional person and that especially applies to my cooking. My methods of measurement are more often the "pinch of this" or "handful of that" or "dollop or other of these." That being said, I'll try to convey as best I can to you that which blesses my mornings first thing, most days... plus or minus a tad of this or smidgen of that which would come about simply because of the difference in the sizes of your hands from mine.

That being firmly established, here we go!

Pure, whole or 100% ingredients are best.

Half a small handful of cocoa powder
Boiling water to taste (I fill maybe half the coffee mug)
Evaporated milk to taste (me? 2-3 dollops)
Several squeezes of Honey from a honey bear bottle (to taste of course!)
Freshly ground nutmeg to taste
Freshly sliced ginger root (at least 3 slices, thinly sliced)
Fresh brewed coffee to taste

I make each cup separately, using a Melitta single-cup coffee maker, drip style. It takes a bit more time, but the robust flavor is well worth it.

Now, if I had ever been crazy enough to join a cult, I'd surely never have had time to fully develop this fine recipe!


Moral of story:

Stick to the faith you were born into. And if your parents got lost in the clutches of  some "church" other than their original God-given one, go back to your grandparents' religion! Oh! And if it is corrupt, don't complain. Go in there, roll up your sleeves, and help straighten it up!

PS. Just for fun: What's missing from this photo above? (which ingredient??)

Hey! This is copyrighted, but for now don't bother asking by whom, OK? When I'm ready, you'll be one of the first to know, if you are signed up with me.

Emotions

How can I be the star of my own show? I don't know if that is possible, but, "Never say never..."


Some folks seem to get upset by emotions. In fact, emotions get them so downright nervous they will go to almost any length to kill them. They will exercise intense emotions of their own, to stop a person from getting "overemotional." I use quotes, because, frankly, God gave us emotions and I doubt that it is possible to overuse them.

Possibly one can tell a lie with them, like using "alligator tears" or "trumped up anger" or maybe even use them to control others, like wife or child beating. You could doubt that beating someone is an emotion, but at the very least, beating someone has some kind of undercurrent of rage that causes it.

I had the word "No" beaten out of me at an extremely young age, certainly before I reached the tender age of one, unfortunately.

None the less, my emotions, and my ability to share them have survived. Emotions do show a feeling, yes, but they are not just for "show." When I cry, when I laugh, when I yell, when I scream, I am doing the best I can to express how I feel about something, be it something so grave as the death of a loved one or something as simple and beautiful as feeling the joy of being alive in the Lord.

Some folks use coffee, alcohol or drugs to heighten, subdue or control their feelings. I suppose I must admit that spiced mocha~java is a kind of medicine for me too, though I believe it to be the least dangerous of them all!

In my world, it is not a crime to express emotions. Actually, not to express them, or worse yet, to stop others from doing so, is the far greater crime! Coffee, to my knowledge, does not interfere with the healthy expression of feelings, nor does cocoa.

Hey! This is copyrighted, but for now don't bother asking by whom, OK? When I'm ready, you'll be one of the first to know, if you are signed up with me.

Just Me

Folks have suggested, asked, begged... me to write the story of my life. My favorite kind of reading has always been biography and especially auto-biography. However, something always seems to delay my adventure into the authoring of my own life's story. That is, until today...

Something changed today, I'd wager that it's lots of folks praying for me. I asked for prayer, in fact. Intense, far reaching, multi-national and deep prayer, as it had seemed my life was once again in danger.

I grew up in a seventeen room house designed by my mother, built by her father and now owned by my niece. I've been homeless during my life several times; I graduated from one of the finest art colleges in our fair nation. I'm a published poet and have shown my works of art in many a gallery. I've written and had published one book... I guess this combination of factors seems to percolate into the kind of beverage that might satisfy many tastes. Curiosity at least, I gather, could sell maybe a million cups, if not a zillion!

The problem is, where to start.

My childhood was riddled with the kinds of things that are most difficult to overcome. However, there were many prayers said over me then too, or I surely would not have survived as well as I did. Maybe even not at all!

I was born dyslexic, didn't learn to read until my second time through third grade, but always excelled in the arts. Add to that the history of mental illness in my family, my father's penchant for brewing his own beer and savoring it most eveings until 3 in the morning, my mother having been a world famous pioneer in the computer field, and several forays into mental health wards for both she and I... and you have a brew that is not easy to stomach without some ginger, nutmeg, cocoa powder and honey, not to mention the healthy dollop of half and half.

Hey! This is copyrighted, but for now don't bother asking by whom, OK? When I'm ready, you'll be one of the first to know, if you are signed up with me.