Valerie X Armstrong...Writings

A Blast From the Past

2012-01-17T07:54:00.000-08:00

Hey, "Baby Boomers"....Remember these drills...We were doing them in the '60's in my school.
I guess we had to do something but this wouldn't have done much to help.

LIVING IN SIN…..Grandma’s Struggle for Survival

2011-11-11T14:10:00.000-08:00

Some women are still like slaves in the U.S. to be bought and sold by men and our government condones it. If men work for a company all of their adult lives they receive a pension for thirty years of devoted service. Women on the other hand, particularly those who have had no career of their own outside of being a homemaker, if they are lucky, receive a certain amount of “pension” referred to as alimony. The problem is that they can never marry again with out losing that money.
A man can remarry with out losing his pension but a woman , if she marries again , she supposedly becomes the “property” of her new husband so therefore the alimony stops. It is as though all the years she put in as maid, cook, nanny, companion, household manager, lover, hostess, personal shopper, partner in business endeavors, chauffeur, psychologist, nurse, broodmare, etc. never existed.
If a man were to have to pay for all those services from someone else the cost would be astronomical, but they are all received free of charge under the guise of “marriage”, from an unsuspecting female who is under the illusion that she will live “happily ever after”.

Generally, when the woman first suspects she has been “had” is when the children are raised, the husband is successful, commanding a large salary that she helped him to achieve and he decides that he no longer needs her any more and decides to trade her in for a newer
(younger) model.
What happens then? After the initial disbelief, breakdown and grieving, she tries to find a job, which isn’t always easy if she has had no training other than the domestic work she did for her husband. Sometimes the judge will award temporary alimony until she can get vocational training…In cases of older women the judge will award “permanent” alimony, which will terminate if the woman ever remarries as though she would then become the property of another man who will provide for her. A man on the other hand can remarry whomever and whenever he wishes and his income remains unchanged.
In earlier days the social norm was for a woman to marry shortly out of school, perhaps having a brief career before marriage which was usually given up to become a housewife…The “Mrs. Cleaver” syndrome.
Women did not question the practicality of this move because most marriages lasted in those days…My grandparents were married 60 years. The woman’s natural role was to care for the children and to keep the home fires burning. She rarely even considered preparing herself for the necessity of having to earn her own living. Men’s and women’s roles were clearly defined…Men went to work and were the bread winners while the woman ran the household. Sometimes the woman would work outside the home in the early years of marriage at a menial job so the husband could go to college while foregoing her own education. During the marriage at times of economic downturn the woman would sometimes take in laundry or baby sit other people’s children to help make ends meet.
I don’t know who decided that all that work and effort on the woman’s part was supposed to be freely given to the man.
During the 1960’s things started to change. Women decided to have careers outside the home and prepared themselves through education to be able to earn a decent living for themselves. Some women didn’t think marriage was a necessity for having children. For some of the career women that was alright, but for many more women who weren’t able to support themselves and their children, the government became their “husband” providing them with a check every month and food stamps as well. These were “informed” choices these women made because the world’s view of men’s and women’s roles had already changed. The idea of marriage as a career choice for women was obsolete.
The problems were for the unsuspecting older woman who was married under the old school of thought, before “woman’s lib,” who was still playing by the old rules. She entered into marriage genuinely thinking it was the right thing to do because her mother and grandmother and all prior generations had done it. It never occurred to her that the rug would literally be pulled out from under her after she had devoted all of her youth to her husband. The poorest economic sector of the US is the older female, who no doubt did not prepare to support herself when she was young because she trusted the institution of marriage to provide for her.
What adds insult to injury is the fact, not only of the alimony stopping if a woman remarries, but her Social Security check stops too. If a divorced woman has never worked outside the home and she has been married to the same man for 10 years or more she can draw off her husband’s Social Security benefits without his being decreased in any way. He still gets the same amount and she gets the equivalent of roughly one third of the amount he receives. How they think that is fair, I will never know, but regardless, that is how it is. If she remarries, the benefits stop, under the assumption she is like a piece of livestock being “sold” to another “owner”. No consideration being given to the years of hard work, sleepless nights and self deprivation she endured while keeping house for her husband.
They don’t even have un-employment for displaced homemakers to give them a chance to regain their equilibrium. One day they have a home and happy family and the next day they are pushing a shopping cart down the tracks containing all their earthly belongings (not such an outrageous exaggeration).
Some older women can support themselves if they are lucky enough to be able to find an employer that will hire an older person with virtually no experience .Even if she goes back to school, competition is tough and jobs are scarce.
If the woman has a family to fall back on that is a great help but if she is alone in the world, she will be very lucky to be able to attain a decent lifestyle on her own.
This is why many older women are forced to make certain choices that are not in keeping with their religious upbringing and moral beliefs such as cohabitating with a man outside of wedlock. “Shacking up” has become the only way a lot of women can survive today.
If she marries the new man, her income will stop. Even if he professes to love her and keep her, how can she trust that it will be true this time when it wasn’t before with her last husband?
There definitely have to be some changes made to the system that keeps women in the role of slaves to be passed from one man to another as property when she has worked all her life in a thankless marriage to be discarded at the husband’s whim. Yes, the women of the last generation were naïve to have let this happen to them and if they had it to do over chances are they would not. However, the fact remains there are still some relics of the old social order that are suffering the consequences of the way things were done then.
A woman’s alimony should be viewed as compensation for services rendered and not be stopped when she remarries. She still put in her time and effort. Why should it stop if she remarries? It doesn’t make sense. Certainly the Social Security should continue if she remarries and she should be given the same amount her husband gets as she was working at home for him all those years to enable him to accrue all those benefits.
Once you are divorced if you are fortunate enough to find another man you can love,
it is very difficult to not be able to marry him, and to not be accorded the rights of being a wife. Even if you and he want to marry, the financial repercussions can be devastating.
Living in sin is sometimes the only way to survive financially.
I have not seen very much written on this subject. It is time this issue was faced head on and corrected. These women have nothing to be ashamed of. They are not slackers looking for a hand out. They are the wives and mothers that made our country strong. They are the hands that rocked the cradle. How can it be that they can be treated so unfairly and then be the butt of jokes and be jeered at by the very men to whom they devoted their lives.
I’m sure this will not be a popular topic among the male sector of the population that have perpetuated this dominance over females for so long.
There are ladies suffering in silence that are too proud to speak up or complain.
The law must be changed to require permanent and fair compensation for home makers and must include, retroactively, all the mothers, grandmothers and housewives that devoted their lives to their families that are sitting out there broke wondering what happened. © VXA 2009

The Birthday That Almost Didn’t Happen

2011-03-16T12:50:00.000-07:00

Today is my Birthday. I know my Mother would not mind me writing this. If she were still alive, I know she would have encouraged it.
Many years ago when birth control was even more unreliable than today…Some women who wanted to limit the size of their families used occasional abortion as a means to that end…Those who could afford to were able to obtain a relatively safe termination to their pregnancies…Some less costly ones were not so safe and downright dangerous.
When I was a nineteen year old widowed mother of a small baby, I thought I had become pregnant again…I was really not in a position to have another child…
I wasn’t much of a deep thinker in those days and really hadn’t given much thought to life in general or questioned why we are here or anything else philosophical…My life had pretty much been a series of struggles and trying to have some fun in between them.
When I was in the panic mode of thinking I was pregnant, I momentarily considered an abortion. I mentioned it to my mother, who confided to me that she had had a couple of abortions before I was born and that if she could have afforded it, I would have not been born either…I had always wondered why my sister and brother were twelve and fourteen years older than I am. It turns out that there were a couple of other brothers and or sisters of mine who never made it here because they were aborted.
Mom cried and begged me to forgive her and said she had always regretted her actions and they had caused a black cloud of depression over her ever since…She said she didn’t know what she would do without me and she was so sorry she had done what she did… The abortions were supposed to make her life easier but they made it much worse for the guilt that she lived with on a daily basis.
I was angry with her at first for killing my unborn siblings… I missed having them in my life even though I never knew them…I was even angrier at her for considering killing me and then telling me about it…
After a while of thinking it all over and letting it process through my brain and heart, I forgave her. I realized that at the time,she thought was doing the right thing for herself and her family…I also forgave her for telling me about it, as I realized she was trying to stop me from making the same mistake that she made, a mistake that might possibly haunt me for a lifetime.
As it turned out, it was a false alarm for me, I wasn’t really pregnant after all, but I had learned an entirely knew way of looking at life from the experience.
Every birthday, when my mother was alive, she would wish me a happy birthday on March 16th, and I would respond with a happy birthday to her too even though it wasn't her real birthday, she was the one who did all the work when I was born.
My mom has been gone many years,now, but I still keep her picture in my bedroom. When I awoke this morning, the first thing I did was to look at her picture and say “Happy, Birthday, Mom”. Then I got a flash of thought…What if I had been one of the kids my mother could have afforded to abort?
I wouldn’t have gotten to wake up to the sunlight streaming into my lovely room or smell the blossoms blooming outside my bedroom window…or been able to pet the cat and dog sleeping at the foot of my bed…I would have missed out on all the wonderful memories I am so thankful for having lived with my children and grand children, who wouldn’t be here either. The guy whose life I saved with the Heimlich maneuver, at my ex husband’s company bar-b-que , also would no longer be here and his kids would be without a dad. I started thinking about the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life” and felt very much like the main character…I might not have done as many dramatic things as in the movie, but I know my life has touched many others and I would like to think that my being here has been a good thing for those whose lives have touched mine.
To think I almost missed out on birthday cake and ice cream and kite flying and the beach and the laughter of babies and the blue sky with puffy white clouds and Christmas and chocolate and a warm fire and books and music and flowers and giraffes and feeling my breath entering my body and stretching and dancing and my art work and my friends and my cozy home. The feelings of elation and sorrow of loving someone and losing that love…all these things that are part of who I am…
I am so grateful mom and dad were broke when she found out I was on the way and I was able to experience life…
I still think about my lost siblings who weren't so fortunate and hope that someday, somewhere, we will meet… That’s my birthday wish.

Valerie X Armstrong..Photo

2011-01-28T21:51:00.000-08:00

FEARS

2011-01-25T09:06:00.000-08:00

FEARS
Fears have become so specialized in recent years that there is a veritable smorgasboard of designer fears from which to choose. Once you cut through all the superfluous trappings, they mostly all boil down to the most basic fear plaguing mankind since time immemorial. The all time "Biggie"...Dying. In my opinion a little fear is not necessarily a bad thing. It keeps us from doing things that might make us dead. Many of todays fears are definitely not unfounded. I cannot understand why a person should try to overcome a fear of flying. Why try to convince yourself that you won't be instantly annihilated if the big mechanical bird crashes with you on board? I can't imagine a situation so important to me that I would risk my life to arrive somewhere a few hours sooner. I'll drive or take a boat or a train. There might still be an accident, but despite statistics, I feel my chances of walking or swimming away will be a heck of a lot better. Some of my other concerns, (not even counting terrorism or politicians or 2012) I won't go so far as to call them fears, are:
1.) Planes or space junk like Skylab falling on someplace I might be standing.
2.) Spiders, not in general, but I don't want them in my personal space.
3.) Being hit by a tossed dwarf or a tossed salad.
4.) Banana peels(this I am certain stems from early conditioning by Saturday morning cartoons and Three Stooges movies).
5.) Being in someones trailer during a tornado.
6.) Black cats(not necessarily crossing my path, but forgetting to feed my black cat "Killer", and sitting down to eat a tuna sandwich).
7.) Electro- magnetic fields(high-voltage wires, microwave ovens and electric blankets).
8.) Cancer and cancer "cures".
9.) AIDS
10.) Social Security running out before my time comes.
11.) Destruction of the ozone layer (global warming or second ice age I can't remember which).
12.) Salmonella in chicken and eggs.
13.) Free radicals in cooking oils.
14.) Mercury in fish.
15.) Insecticides in fruit and vegetables.
16.) Antibiotics and steroids in red meat(not to mention cholesterol and fat).
17.) Mosquitoes with encephalitis.
18.) Amoebas in the lakes.
19.) Asbestos, radon and mold in the buildings.
20.) Caffeine as well as the decaffeinating process.
21.) Sugar and sugar substitutes.
22.) Acid rain.
23.) Oil spills.
24.) Overpopulation of whales.
25.) Killer bees.
26.) Aluminum causing Alzheimer's disease(does this mean I can't sit in my folding lawn chair anymore?)
27.) Second hand smoke.
28.) Calling 911 and being put on hold.
29.) My car stalling in rush hour traffic just as my laxative starts to work.
30.) An uprising of the poor in this country and I'll somehow be mistaken for rich.
31.) Being stuck between floors on an escalator.
32.) My deodorant failing.
33.) Overlooked straight pins in new shirts.
34.) Being punished for removing the tags from pillows and mattresses.
35.) Alligators in the sewer.
36.) Finding rat parts in my Pepsi.
37.) Fingers in my chili.
38.) Germs from salad bars.
39.) Television evangelists.
40.) Subliminal satanic messages on my records.
41.) Bottled water.
42.) Lead pipes, lead crystal and lead paint.
43.) Hitch hikers.
44.) Pit bulls.
45.) Product tampering.
46.) Crazy drivers with road rage.
47.) Drive by shootings
48.) Side effects from medicines being worse than the condition you take them for.
49.)Identity theft.
50.) And finally oat bran(I'm not afraid of it, just highly suspicious).

With all this going on, if a person isn't a little nervous, he obviously doesn't understand the situation. We are up against a lot more than our early ancestors whose biggest fears were minor things like the Mastodon and the Saber Tooth Tiger. I guess the best thing for me to do is try to take it all in stride and live as fully as possible without taking any unnecessary risks. After all, I want my life to be interesting and fun, but I want to put off dealing with the "Biggie" as long as possible. VXA©

Crisis in Our Country

2011-01-24T09:58:00.000-08:00

Millions homeless in the USA...Sky rocketing unemployment...People without enough food to eat or without necessary medicines or health care...While practically everything we buy is made in China or some other foreign land...and everytime we call "Customer Service" for any reason whether it be for our mortage company or our cell phones or credit cards we are connected to someone in a foreign country..usually India, the Philippines or Mexico. The government talks of "creating jobs"...For starters why not just hire our own citizens to be customer service reps instead of outsourcing the jobs so the corporations can save money while starving their countrymen..or why not manufacture our goods here and not somewhere where labor is "cheaper" so the corporations can line their pockets while American families live in the woods. This country is in a crisis mode and it should be considered an act of treason to give a job to someone outside of our country that someone here can do..(By that I mean an American citizen NOT an illegal alien) This is America..We should take care of our own people first...We should only buy what is made in the USA and not outsource any jobs at all.
We always seem to be able to help other countries that are in need, ie. Haiti, but where is the money to help our poor and unemployed right here in this country?
And while I'm at it Americans should not have to be denied a job because they do not speak Spanish... English is the language of the USA...None of the other nationalities that form our melting pot had the luxury of continuing the usage of their native tongues at work or in school...At home they could speak what ever language they chose...They had to learn the English language to assimilate into our culture. That should not change..United we stand and divided we fall..Speaking two different languages in our country divides us.
Valerie X Armstrong 2011 ©

A Fish Tale or The One That Got Away

2011-01-07T09:49:00.000-08:00

I own some rental property and one of my tenants moved out and left his huge Oscar Fish.I had no idea how to care for fish, but thanks to my local pet store and the internet, I soon learned.I was instructed to buy some "Feeder Fish" for the Oscar, which were adorable little Goldfish, to supplement his diet. I thought it was a barbaric idea but I did it anyway. There were several "feeders" in the little bucket I carried in from the pet store. My kids thought it was Chinese food from the looks of the container, but I told them it was Oscar's dinner not theirs.When I dumped the feeders into Oscar's tank there was a mad flurry of churning water as Oscar charged his victims. It was a disturbing sight to witness. In the aftermath of the mayhem the water sparkled brightly with what appeared to be gold glitter settling to the bottom very much like a snow globe after it has been shaken. It was the golden scales of the goldfish which were all that remained after Oscar's attack. Later that evening, my son called to me to come and look in Oscar's tank.One of the little feeder fish had escaped the massacre. He had hidden up under the filter where Oscar could not get to him. The little guy had used his brain and outsmarted the big guy in sort of a David and Goliath fashion. My son begged me to get the little fish out of Oscar's tank and set him up in his own fishbowl. I "fished" him out and we named him "Dave".Dave turned out to have a great personality. He was so entertaining and seemed to be genuinely glad to be alive. We never got any more feeder fish for Oscar. He had to get by with regular fish food. He didn't seem to mind and lived a long healthy life as did Dave. VXA©

LAKESIDE MUSINGS

2011-01-02T09:57:00.000-08:00

Every morning when I wake up it amazes me to think I have remained here so long…I am even a little afraid to acknowledge that thought in this writing for fear I will “jinx” my good fortune.
I am still living on the shores of beautiful Lake Susannah where I have been a dweller for many years…The first couple decades of which were spent in a much bigger house three doors down. I have lived here in my current home for over five years…
The sunsets over the lake are still the same but the neighborhood is evolving from a quiet little country environment to a more upscale area that includes houses in the five million dollar bracket.
The kids that my boys grew up with are still around but they are now sporting a few gray hairs. It is so strange to see their familiar faces with the subtle first signs of aging…like they are wearing those clear plastic Halloween masks with wrinkles that make a person look instantly older when they put them on. I keep waiting for them to remove the masks and reveal their youthful faces underneath.
I have been here so long that it is difficult to remember ever belonging anywhere else.
I am so in tune with the subtleties of this place that it’s every nuance is an inherent part of my being..The sights, the sounds, the smells, the slightest change in the temperature or breeze do not go unnoticed by me
..
There is a Bald Eagle that I watch every day from my bedroom window…He sits atop an old dead tree in my neighbor’s yard that juts above all the other green bushy surrounding trees with just a spikey skeleton of a trunk and branches…He sits there for hours at a time…Sometimes he will bring a freshly caught fish with him to devour..other times he will bring some other indistinguishible bit of prey. I remember once while living at my other house down the street..the same bird dropped a partially eaten duck from the top of my nearly hundred foot pine tree which slammed to the ground like a sack of potatoes just barely missing me by about six inches…As I sit spying on him I think, “You could have killed me you ‘birdbrain.’”
The lake herself has many moods…sometimes she is sultry, as glassy and reflective as a mirror..an occasional fish will jump creating endless rings in the glossy surface.
Other times she is sparkling bright blue and active with the sun glistening off her waves like diamonds…other times she is is dark gray , nearly black and ominous with choppy turbulance and white caps slamming against the sea wall..Sometimes she turns a bright orange in the evening reflecting the sunset. This is usually in the fall when the weather turns crisp and cool…At these times the trees on the far side of the lake resemble black lace against the horizon. At night she really comes alive..She reflects the lights of the houses on the opposite shore and on the Fourth of July the panorama of fireworks in the distance is enhanced by her reflection of them…Small boats coming from all directions gather by my dock to view the spectacle every year..
I have heard people from up north say they miss the change of seasons in Central Florida..We do have changes but not as extreme as other places…If one is tuned in to their surroundings here, the changes are unmistakable.
We have a tree called the Golden Rain Tree…Early in the Fall it blooms with vibrant gold colored blossoms that morph into a delicate peach colored flower…This might not be quite the same as the Maple’s turning a bright fiery red, but it is a signal to me that Fall has arrived. Our weather becomes drier in the Fall and much more comfortable…The temperature drops a few degrees but the humidity subsides making it seem cooler.
At my other house I had an upstairs bedroom..Sometimes I would hear the wind whistling around the corner of the building…I really loved that sound…I could just picture the North Wind as a big cloud with a bearded Human face and big puffy cheeks blowing out that bone chilling air . This was particularily in the Winter and the early Spring as I would be washing the windows in preparation for the Holidays or starting my Spring cleaning…There would be a distinct smell to the air, like snow, although snow is extremly rare around here.
I love it when it gets dark earlier in the Fall and Winter…It is so cozy inside with the fireplace going and perhaps a cup of cocoa…The grass seems to even have a certain crunchiness to it when it is walked on in the cooler times of year…
I spot the flocks of birds heading South for the Winter as they fly overhead, some in formation and some in a big noisy group that seems to have no rhyme or reason.
I notice that there are always one or two stragglers bringing up the rear in both groups…
We had two huge Camphor trees at our old place that had deep purple berries…The birds heading back home in the Spring always landed in those trees for a snack while traveling…The branches came alive with the hordes of hungry noisy vagabonds as they picked the trees clean of the berries and left evidence of their visit on our freshly washed cars parked in the yard.
There is a bird that was quite poorly designed,in my opinion, that sits on my dock with his wings outstretched, waiting for them to dry..He is the Cormorant or Water Turkey…He eats fish from the lake, but once he dives in to get a fish and his wings get wet..He has to air dry them before he dives in again or else he will sink like a rock and drown…I have seen that poor bird make attempt after attempt to catch a fish and get soaked and come up empty handed , so to speak..Sometimes he gets so desperately hungry that he dives in again before his feathers are completely dry and just his head and neck will be visible above the water. Meanwhile, the Ducks and the Coots glide by topside with a superior look on their faces as they watch him struggle back to his post on the dock.
Regarding the Coot or the Loon as it is sometimes called….When I first moved to Central Florida, I woke my husband in the middle of the night to tell him there was an escapee from the insane asylum in our back yard laughing hysterically…My husband went to investigate and discovered the sound was coming from a group of Loons huddled together close to our shore…The Loons are a hardy bunch..They stay through the Winter here although some times the weather drops below freezing…One time I remember the lake freezing all the way around the perimeter from the shoreline out a few feet toward the center…When it started to warm up there was steam rising from the lake resembling a witch’s cauldron boiling…The Loons remained despite the cold…The sound of their demonic “laughter” and the spooky fog hovering around the lake would have been the perfect setting for a horror movie.
I always tried to point these things out to my children to spark their imaginations and to encourage them to see things from different perspectives..They have exceeded my greatest expectations by becoming very interesting and entertaining young men whose company I find quite pleasant at times.
The Coots and Moorhens are an interesting looking bird..They are smaller than a duck and black in color...The Coots have a white beak and the Moorhens beaks look exactly like a piece of candy corn stuck to the front of their heads.
When we first came to the lake we, my second husband, my two sons and I, were looking for a place to rent. The owner of the property wanted to only rent out half of the place and live in the other side herself…We were in love with the place but we told her one half of the house would be too small for us..We turned to leave..She said “Wait a minute…If I rented you the whole thing for $20. more a month would you take it?” We jumped at that opportunity.
She went to live in Jacksonville and she eventually sold the house to another man who ultimately sold it to us. When we went to see the house that first day, I was carrying a bunch of Daffodils that my mother had given me..Every Spring around my birthday she would present me with a bunch of Daffodils. I carried them all through the house on the grand tour as it was warm in the car and I didn’t want them to wilt..The owner of the place confessed to me that it was my holding the Daffodils that influenced her decision to rent the house to us despite the many others who were interested in moving in..That was one of my first signs that I am supposed to be here on the lake…The second was even when the owner wanted to sell to us we didn’t have the financial wherewithal to make the purchase..We were sick when the new owner arrived and introduced himself…We were afraid we would have to move.. but,after renting from him for a couple of years, he sold us the house with very little money down, which my mother helped us with, and he held the mortgage so we did not have to go through the rigors of qualifying…It was so simple…The man said he could tell how much we loved the place and even though he had had bigger, better offers, he wanted it to be ours.
Our lives there were wonderful…Swimming, boating fishing. Huge holiday celebrations surrounded by loved ones…Laughter and singing and musical instruments being played was the order of the day..There were times when everything wasn’t perfect, but for the most part it was idyllic. We had a huge yard with an eighty foot dock with a twelve by twelve party deck on the end..We had a canoe and a sailboat and my son eventually got a powerful sleek ski boat. We would play badminton and croquet and tether ball and the kids would play on their swing sets.
There were the two huge Camphor trees I mentioned earlier and the tall pine..There were five stately palms along the waters edge that we planted and they grew to make it a tropical paradise..I also planted a Golden Rain Tree that was almost killed by my son’s girlfriend when she backed her car into it, but it survived and as I write this it is blooming in it’s full glory.
There was also a Florida Holly Tree that would herald the Christmas season with it’s crop of bright red berries. There were three Grapefruit trees, one ruby and two regular yellow, with the sweetest fruit. We would peel and eat them right from the tree . There were also four orange trees a couple of Navel and a couple of Valencia.
One of the Valencias got struck by lightening and the fruit was never the same…It became very sour and I could make a pie from it that tasted just like Lemon Meringue.
One of the grapefruit trees was struck by lightening also and the tree stopped bearing fruit for a couple of years, but when it started to bear fruit again the grapefruit were huge! Super charged!
In the front yard there was a very lovely stately magnolia tree with lemony fragranced blossoms as big as dinner plates..They were so velvety and beautiful.. like charming southern belles. There was a large Norfolk Pine that perished in the great freeze of 1988.
Also there were two Silk Oaks that I thought were Cypress trees for the first several years we were there…There was a gigantic spreading Live Oak that grew so fast that it deprived the other trees of sunlight killing not only the two Exotic Wild Orchid trees that we brought back from a trip to Miami and the Chinese Ornamental tree with the yellow flowers but it also snuffed the life out of my beloved Magnolia.
The rest of the yard was landscaped with Night Blooming Jasmine whose heady fragrance was nearly overwhelming, as well as bright colorful Hibiscus, a trellis with a showy magenta climbing Bouganvilla,a Surinam cherry bush with the unusual sweet and sour reddish orange fruit, reportedly to be very high in vitamin C. There were annuals carefully planted each season. Two giant Grecian urns filled with Geraniums, and of course my rose garden…I had lavendar roses , yellowroses, Tea roses, American Beautys, and pure white roses… …In the center of the rose garden was a sundial with a quote from Robert Browning …”Grow old along with me…The best is yet to be”..that I had given my husband on one of our anniversaries….I thought that that was going to be the natural course of events , so I believed the gift to be totally appropriate.
Along the fence on one side of the property were blue Morning Glories and 12 foot tall Sunflowers..there was also bright orange Flame Vine that when viewed against the backdrop of the bright blue sky was absolutely breathtaking…There was another vine that had purple Passion Flowers on it…They are the most intricate and amazing flower I have ever seen…I believe they are my favorite..They have a cross in the middle and have so many parts to them it is fascinating…each part is supposed to have a meaning relating to a certain aspect of Christianity..I nearly forgot to mention the fragrant Gardenia bush in the back yard beside the tall pine tree...Gardenias always were my sister, Ginny's favorite flower...I would bring her a bouquet of them every day or so while they were in bloom...Their fragrance always reminded me of Easter Sunday church services when a lot of the ladies wore a Gardenia corsage.
There was an abundance of Spanish Moss hanging from the large trees giving the look of the deep south to the surroundings….It was our own personal Garden of Eden..We had lovely pets…dogs and cats, even ducks that would eat out of our hands and fly up to tap on our bedroom window in the morning when they wanted to be fed..
There were giant waterbirds, Cranes and Ibis,and Egret, smaller birds like Cardinal,Redwing Blackbird, Blue Jay, Mocking Bird, Mourning Doves with their soulful cry and wise old Owls.…There were even Peacocks and a Rooster that made their way through our property….There were Possums, Raccoons, Squirrels, Armadillos, Otters and an occasional Gator eyeing us through the weeds from the lake. ©
To be continued….

The Yamduck

2010-12-08T09:54:00.000-08:00

Just before Thanksgiving of last year while shopping at my local grocery store ,I spotted what appeared to be a sculpture of a duck among the large display of yams in the produce department. It was partially sticking out from under a huge pile of yams and it was difficult to retrieve it with out causing what might have been an embarrassing avalanche of tubers. Once I had it in my hand I realized this was not a sculpture but an actual yam that looked exactly like a duck. I could hardly believe my eyes. It was one of Mother Nature's little oddities. The produce manager walked by and I showed him my little treasure. He examined it and said he had never seen anything like it before( and this guy sees a lot of yams). He took out his pen and marked it "No Charge", and after showing it around to his co-workers, he handed it back to me with a wish for me to have a Happy Thanksgiving and enjoy my "Yamduck." I proudly showed it to everyone on the way out of the store. It was a big hit in the checkout line, in fact a crowd gathered to see it. As soon as I got it home I took pictures of it and emailed them to everyone I knew, including the Food Editor at our local newspaper. She asked if she could do an article on it and I eagerly agreed. The Yamduck had hit the big time with it's picture in the paper. It was a local "celebrity" overnight. My brother came up with the idea of trying to sell the Yamduck on Ebay. He thought that it might get on the Tonight Show's segment, "What We Found on Ebay". I thought it would be neat to possibly have him(Yamduck) on National TV so I said, "Why not?" As you can tell from the previous sentence, I was already beginning to refer to the Yamduck as a living breathing entity. I was becoming very attached. I listed him on Ebay, never in my wildest dreams thinking someone would bid on him...but they did. My heart sank. I was going to have to part with my little friend and send him to a stranger in Ohio. I guess, I knew all along that the relationship couldn't last forever as the Yamduck was starting to shrivel a little like most veggies do when they have been around too long. After a tearful "Goodbye", I packaged him up and begrudgingly mailed him to his new owner. In a few days I received glowing feedback from Yamducks buyer telling me how thrilled he was to have Yamduck and thanking me profusely. I was able to enjoy Thanksgiving , knowing Yamduck had a good home. I couldn't bring myself to eat any sweet potatoes, however. When ever I see a display of yams my eyes scan automatically for a duck shaped one. I know that I will never find another like him again, but I am glad to have had the opportunity to know and love him. Even though his personality wasn't all that great..He was still cute. VXA©

The Hazards of Trying to Buy Land in Florida

2010-12-07T09:21:00.000-08:00

Many years ago, my husband and I were looking for waterfront property in Florida. We had seen an ad in the newspaper for undeveloped lake front lots near Panama City which is in the Florida Panhandle and is nicknamed "The Redneck Riviera" as it is the closest beach to Alabama and the people from Alabama really flock there especially on holidays.
We had never been there before but said to ourselves, "How bad can it be?
The ad we saw in the paper said "Free weekend at our new development, food and lodging included."
It just happened to be Memorial Day weekend and we had three days off. We called and made an appointment to come up and look around. We drove miles off the highway into a swampy, spooky, desolate area that was reminiscent of scenes in the movie "Ten Thousand Maniacs". We expected others to have answered the ad and we thought that there would be other prospective buyers there. There were not. It was just us.
There was an "Igor" type fellow that came out to greet us and showed us to his "Master", I mean boss who's eyes seemed to light up when he saw us, like a hungry
man seeing a steak dinner for the first time in a while...I took it to mean that he was glad to have a potential buyer for his desolate property..at least that was what I was trying to convince myself.
There was no civilization for miles and no scream for help would ever be heard. There was heavy gray Spanish moss draping eerily on dead grotesquely shaped trees. The roads were narrow ruts with muddy water filling the tire tracks. It was a perfect place to hide a body, I thought, letting my imagination run wild.
The property owner was very accommodating and said we could set out early in the morning after a good night's sleep and tour the property. He instructed "Igor" to get our bags and take them to our cabin.
It was the beginning of Summer and the mosquitoes were unbearable. It was hot and humid and the rainy season had rendered all the narrow roads virtually impassable.
When we were finally alone in our room I told my husband of my feelings of uneasiness about this place and asked him if we might please go into the next town to find a motel because I was,to put it mildly, terrified to stay there. He laughed and did the "There, There" thing that men do when they think their wives are being silly or unreasonable. I insisted that we get the heck out of there together or I was going alone. He finally acquiesced. This was in the time before cell phones, so we tried to call some motels from our room but the line didn't work. We complained to the owner and he said the rains had seeped into the phone lines but in a week or so they should be fine. Okay, now I had seen enough scary movies to see where this was going. My husband, in his condescending best, said to the owner that "The Little Woman"(me) wanted to sleep in town tonight and we would be back in the morning to take the tour. The property owner and Igor went out of their way to try to convince us to stay but by that time my "fight or flight" mode was kicking in and I grabbed my husband and said, "We are leaving NOW!" We pushed past Igor and his master who were standing in front of us trying to form a barricade with their bodies. We ran to our car, abandoning our luggage which was still in the cabin, started the ignition and tried to speed away which only caused us to become partially stuck in the mud (I was surprised the car even started). Finally after several tries we freed the wheel and were on our way to safety, we thought. We were panicked and lost in the woods and kept driving in a circle with out knowing it till we kept passing the same landmarks. It was nearly dark. Finally we found the road to the highway and sped to town.
When we arrived in Panama City Beach we were shocked to see the road literally bumper
to bumper with cars filled with young people drinking beer and shouting to each other. We got in the line of traffic which was nearly at a standstill from the crowds. We looked at the motels lining the street on both sides and they all read "No Vacancy". We went into a couple of them and were told there were NO available rooms in town. We asked the desk clerks to call around for us and they said it wouldn't do any good. We drove and drove at a snails pace trying to spot any signs of vacancy anywhere. We were exhausted after our long drive in the morning and our ordeal with the spooky development guys. We just wanted a place to lay our weary heads, when I spotted a Holiday Inn with a "vacancy" sign. I ran in the office hoping it wasn't a mistake. It wasn't... The reason it was still available was that it was $200. per night (remember this was in the early eighties and this was a Holiday Inn!)minimum of three nights. We said we only wanted it for one night and they said that was fine but it would still cost us $600. We took it.
When we got to our room there was no TV, no lamps, just the glaring over head light, no pictures on the wall. You could see the spaces on the wall where pictures had recently been removed. It was like a very expensive prison cell. We called the desk and they said they always had to remove anything breakable from the rooms on holiday weekends because of the rowdy guests. We said we weren't rowdy and we would like our tv. The desk clerk said,"That's what they all say" and hung up.
We spent that evening getting a few bags of snacks out of the vending machine's
depleted selection, and went to bed. We did not venture out till morning.
We got up early while the revelers were still sleeping off the night before and hightailed it back toward home and civilization.That was one of the strangest weekends we ever had and it gave us good conversation material for years to come.
We never went back to see the property....something told us that just wasn't where we were meant to be. ©

VXA

Walt: A Eulogy

2010-12-03T13:07:00.000-08:00

Walt was the kind of guy everyone needs in their life..he was a great son, a great brother a great friend and a great fiancee'.
He was honest, caring, conscientious and loving.
When you look up the word integrity in the dictionary there would be Walt's picture.
He was the most unassuming and trusting person ever . He didn't put on airs or go out of his way to impress anyone..he was just himself and people were drawn to him.
He accepted people at face value. He believed what people told him because he himself was so honest he never expected anything but honesty in return ..With Walt there were no hidden agendas..what you saw was what you got.
Rain or shine, whether he felt well or not he would get up before the crack of dawn every day and drive 50 miles to work so as not to" let the guys down".
He would come home tired, sore and exhausted but he never complained. He was always ready to help out if any one needed a hand.

His pleasures were simple..a cozy home , watching tv, ( he was captain of the remote control) a little drink or smoke once in a while. He liked to go on gambling trips from time to time and play scratch offs and football pool but it was purely for enjoyment..he knew his limit.
He loved listening to music..classic rock being his favorite.. He could play a really mean "air guitar".
His possessions were meager and few..a shadow box from the Philippines with his name on it which housed a few unusual sea shells and other little items he had picked up through the years. A framed picture of an orange rocket against a blue sky taking off into space that had been given to him as a child..some photographs of his close friends and family, a bowling trophy, a large ceramic raccoon that I gave him when we first met that he carried around in his van for years..
. He saved every greeting card he ever received from family and friends and the ones he sent to others were carefully picked out to say just the right words for the occasion…. He was so sentimental..his things had had no monetary value but to him they were treasures.
He has a closet full of his dads old clothes that he couldn't wear himself but kept them because he could not bear to part with them.
He was so strong he sometimes didn't recognize his own strength.
He could carry heavy things that most people couldn't budge, without even exerting himself.
When he took a treadmill test for a physical exam one time the doctor had to have him stop as he was wearing out the machine.
He loved his family so much..He was always calling his Mom and sisters on the phone and he never failed to say "I Love you" to them at the end of every conversation.

When Walt and I met we immediately bonded. We were soul mates. I was afraid I was a little too old for him as there were a few years difference in our ages…To make me feel better , he went out and rented the movie "Harold and Maud" which is about an 85 year old woman and a teenage boy falling in love…I told him "Hey, I am not that much older than you." We had a good laugh over that one.

Walt with his big muscular build and long shaggy sun streaked hair, dressed in his dirty work clothes was quite a sight each walking my snooty little poodle Zora on her rhinestone leash. They were quite a pair.
He loved her and she loved him. He was her Daddy. She and I would both listen eagerly for the sound of Walt's truck pulling in the driveway. It was the highpoint of the day for both of us when his smiling face came through that door.

Walt came from a large family and would often tell me stories about his life growing up. He told me how much he loved and admired his dad and how much he missed him. He told me about his grandmother who fixed Polish cabbage rolls and pierogies for him. He cared deeply for all his cousins and for all his friends both old and new.
He loved his co worker Brian like a brother. He was so honored to be Godfather to Brian's daughter Cathy. He carried her picture proudly on his key chain. He loved his niece, Julie and spoke highly of her accomplishments. The years that I knew Walt were some of the best years of my life. We made a great team.
He told me when we first met, when I asked him what he was looking for in a relationship, that he wanted someone to grow old with..Our plan was for that to happen for us, but unfortunately it didn't work out that way…I will keep him in my heart always and hope that he is waiting for me when my times comes to cross over.

Walt never knew a stranger…He was a friend to all with whom he came in contact…He was fun loving, handsome, cute, likable.. he had a wonderful sense of humor, great common sense was intelligent and fair not to mention that adorable impish grin of his.
He did have a little stubborn streak which only added to his charm.

Walt would not want us to be sitting around crying..He would want us to celebrate his life and enjoy the time we have left on Earth. He loved life and lived his to the fullest.
Most likely, not a day will go by that we will not think of Walt..But he would want those thoughts to be happy ones about the good times that were had together.
Walter was one of a kind. A really cool guy. .There will never be another Walt.
All who knew him should consider themselves blessed for having known him.
He has enriched all of our lives.
On Walt's Myspace page he has as his theme song "Simple Man" by Lynard Skynard..He told me he chose that song because it reminded him of himself.
He considered himself just an "average Joe"…a simple man.. That's how he saw himself and he was content with that image…
However, to me and to all those who knew and loved him, he was so much more.
He was an unsung hero, a wonderful shining star of a person….to be looked up to and admired. He was a perfect example of one of God's finest creations.
Our darling Walter,
We miss you terribly but we must take comfort in believing that we will all be together again someday .
We love you Walt……God Bless you……………
And as Walt would say , "Right on!"

The Sheep People

2010-10-10T16:37:00.000-07:00

What is the difference between fraternities and street gangs or some motorcycle gangs ?
The fraternity guys are most likely from a wealthier family and possibly somewhat better looking. Other than that they are just more young men that had little to offer as individuals and had to band together with others to feel like they belonged to something bigger than themselves because on their own they were nothing special..It reminds me of kids with a tree house club that don't let certain other kids in so they can feel superior like they know a secret the others don't..The secret hand shakes and the initiations and the clandestine meetings behind closed doors are humorously reminiscent of the old "Honeymooners" episodes where Ralph Kramden belonged to the Royal Order of Raccoons ....In high school I was envious of the kids that were in those clubs but now I see how silly it really is..I remember as a college student I worked part time as a hostess at an Elks Club and at precisely eight o'clock every evening everyone who wasn't a member had to leave the room while the members all faced the stuffed Elk's head mounted on the wall and paid homage to it...I knew even then it was a hilarious ritual..I had to snicker to myself at the grown men who took this seriously and to think they were some of the city's leaders made me shudder. The fraternity members are just the same. People like that worry me.
The street gangs and bikers are probably no more dangerous and perhaps even less so because it is blatently obvious that they are usually up to no good...The fraternities on the other hand are surreptitiously infiltrating the government and other high offices where they can control those of us that "don't belong". It starts early, sometimes in the teens..Some of the members are chosen because their fathers or brothers were part of the group or because they are from an influential or affluent family or just because they are good looking..They rarely have any other attributes ,like thinking for themselves, otherwise they would not belong to such an absurd society. They rarely if ever have compassion and empathy for the underdogs of the world nor do they feel the need to expand their minds or their self sufficiency. They have been known to cruelly shun someone who might want to be part of their circle because they do not live up to the shallow standards of their so called elite group. I prefer to do my own thing and make friends from all walks of life and not feel that I have to be part of a snobby herd of spoiled sheep to be somebody. © VXA 2010

IT'S ALL LUCK

2009-12-05T13:47:00.000-08:00

They say it is all luck or who you know that determines your success in life, but isn’t who you know also a matter of luck?
It is absolutely not true that if you work hard and are excellent at what you do that you will be a “success”(I will touch on the various meanings of success later) but for now I am using the fame and fortune version.
I have seen people get rich and famous without an ounce of talent. Why? Luck!
I have seen people who were super talented and at the top of their game, that had put in endless hours of practice and dedication, never get anywhere, despite their efforts.
Example, a very talented musician I know personally. He started playing guitar when he was a kid, it was (and is) his passion. He had a dream of becoming a “Rock Star.” He spent his entire youth working toward that goal. This guy is no slacker. People come to him for lessons, he plays in local bands and the audiences go wild, but despite all of that, his ship never came in.
He told me one day, recently, that he was glad he had other skills because he has come to realize that he is never going to be a rock star. It hit me like a ton of bricks because I am this fellow’s biggest fan. I tried to explain to him that he was a local rock star and he had many fans . He told me he knew all that but it wasn’t the same as being a real“ROCK STAR”!
I knew what he meant, but I continued to explain to him that he was successful in so many other ways, that he had his health and a loving family and many fans of his work. He said he was aware of all that but he had worked all his life to become a rock star and he wasn’t one and he felt he was too old for that to ever happen for him now. We both agreed that if anyone deserved to be one, it was he. He had the talent, looks, personality, desire, dedication, why then was he playing local watering holes when so many wankers were hitting the big time? Luck! That is it, pure and simple. It wasn’t in the stars for him to be a rock star in this lifetime despite his efforts.
They tell us when we are kids that we can be anything we want if we work hard and apply ourselves and want it badly enough. That is a crock! There are only so many slots for big time success and they are filled by the “lucky” ones and no matter what the rest of us do to attain one of those elusive slots we are just not going to get one.
They say we make our own luck. I think that is true up to a point, like not running out in traffic or jumping off a building, or robbing a bank. But I think the luck that determines success or failure is random or possibly doled out by whoever is the puppeteer in this earthly drama.
Positive thinking only keeps us happy while we are waiting for luck to decide our fate. We are not creators of our own destiny, but pawns subject to the whims of the powers that be.
It is always good to be prepared to open the door if opportunity knocks, so one should definitely keep their skills honed if they might just happen to be one of the lucky ones. Keeping your eye on the prize is great but there comes a time for most people when you realize the prize will never be yours no matter what.
That is when we need to try to come to terms with a whole new meaning of success in life. Success in helping others, being a good parent a good role model, a good provider, having the world be a better place because we were here
Most of us start out thinking we are special and destined for greatness. It is a bitter pill to swallow when reality sets in and it hits us that we have put in all that effort for nothing. What we wanted more than anything else in the world will never materialize.
We will never be the one in the spotlight with countless of millions of dollars and adoring fans.
There are many very talented famous people who have worked hard and earned the right to be in the limelight and luck smiled upon them, but there are also many, many no talent examples of glorified mediocrity receiving accolades for no other reason than they got lucky.©

THE LOONEY BIN

2009-11-24T14:16:00.000-08:00

When my second husband told me he was leaving me, for another woman it was the worst shock of my life.
I was completely happy in my marriage, I thought he (Irv) was too. There was no indication that he had even been seeing anyone else. He was home on weekends and he came straight home after work.
He and I laughed, talked, made love and seemed to be getting along as wonderfully as we always had in our 26 years of wedlock.
He was my best friend. We met in high school and I briefly married someone else who was killed after we had been married less than a year. I was pregnant and when my son was born. Irv was there in the hospital with me. He took over the role of husband to me and father to my new baby.
I was mostly a stay at home mom, however I did work outside the home whenever I wanted to. I did mostly volunteer work or my art work .It was never a necessity financially for me to have a paying job as Irv earned a good salary as a Civil Engineer and we had everything we wanted or needed.
We had another son four years after my first son was born and we were a very close family. Our holidays were wonderful. We were like a Norman Rockwell painting with Irv at the head of the table carving the turkey.
Irv and I had a great rapport. We were both witty and would keep each other laughing most of the time. We talked till the wee hours of the night right up until the end of our days together. We would listen to music and dance and hold hands. I trusted him completely. There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for him if he had asked me. My world revolved around him and our family. I, never in my wildest dreams, ever thought he would leave me. I had envisioned us getting old together and I always hoped I would die first because I never wanted to be without him.
When he first told me he had found someone else I was dumbfounded. I thought it was a joke but I could see by the look on his face that he was serious. He told me he still loved me but that she needed him more than I did and he hated to leave but he had no choice.
Instantly everything in my life was turned upside down.
Was everything that I believed to be real not true? I was shaken to the core. I found out he had been sneaking out of work during the day and seeing the “other woman” during working hours.
He had been leaving her bed and coming home to our’s. He had been able to pull off this charade for over a year and I was clueless.
We had been through so much together over the years. The death’s of our parents, our kid’s illnesses, the hard times and lay-offs, the happy times ,staying up late together to play Santa and Easter Bunny for our boys. The intimate moments when we seemed like the only two people on the planet so much in love it was ecstasy. The fun times we had at the football games and reminiscing about our lives growing up together in Miami. All this was gone…over..never to be the same again. This couldn’t be real..It just couldn’t be. How could he betray me like that?
My sister had had a stroke and was living with us and needed around the clock care.. I was going to college full time and also working at the school part time in the Interior Design Dept. I had gotten my Real Estate license but had never sold anything.I had no income of my own except the little I was earning at the college, not enough to live on, and although the kids were grown they still relied on us from time to time for financial assistance.
I was so totally overwhelmed by the news that he was leaving that my world fell apart.
I couldn’t function. I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t know how I could go on living.
I was just shaking uncontrollably.
I drove my self to the hospital because I was hoping they could give me something to ease the pain that reached into my soul. The hospital “Baker Acted” me. That is where they keep you for observation for a few days if they think you might harm yourself. I never wanted to harm myself or anyone else. I just wanted my life back like it was.
I was put in the mental ward with bars on the windows and treated with very little dignity. I, a grandmother, who was volunteering at the Opera Guild Show house just the week before and maintaining a 4.0 average in college and caring for a sick sister, was locked up with a bunch of crazy people and being treated as though I were one of them.
That was the worst situation I have ever been in. I was having a normal reaction to my life and family being destroyed and was being treated like I was a few bales short of a load.
My husband on the other hand made a great showing of being concerned about me and he was treated very politely by the staff as he exchanged knowing glances with them regarding the pitiful patient, me. He was acting though he were on my side and not the sole cause of my being in there in the first place. But, I knew it was all for the benefit of the onlookers.
When people lose their homes and loved ones to floods or accidents or fires, everyone rushes to help and they are offered grief counseling. They are not locked up in a mental ward for displaying normal human reactions to the loss they have suffered. Since when is it ok to punish the victim like that? I just wanted comforting and to be assured that everything would be alright.
I realized I only had one option open to me and that was to move ahead and not look back. If I were to dwell on the negative I would be lost. I had to make a new life for myself, one day at a time. I had to be my own best friend and never rely on anyone else ever again.
I have succeeded fairly well in doing that, although in the beginning I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to make that statement. I have made a nice life for myself. There are still times when things happen that sadden me like the unexpected death of my beloved Walter, the man who would have been my third husband had he not fallen off a roof. I am grateful for the time I had with him but I know I must continue to live and try to enjoy my life without him. I never thought I could love another man after Irv left, but Walter proved me wrong. I don’t know if I will find romance again and I am not concerned about whether I do or not. I am self sufficient, happy and comfortable.
It would be nice for abandoned women to have a network of other women who have been through traumatic life changing events like this to listen to them and share their experience, strength and hope. If there had been such a system in place, in my moment of despair, I’m sure I wouldn’t have wound up in the looney bin.©
VXA

The Birthday Surprise

2009-09-08T08:41:00.000-07:00

Ode to Venus

2009-08-11T11:03:00.000-07:00

This is a little poem I wrote about the Venus of Willendorf which is known to be one of the earliest examples of feminine beauty.

"ODE TO VENUS"

Although you were fair in the dim past...

Today you'd be sipping "Slim Fast"...

For when shaped like a ball...

There's no shop in the mall...

Selling jeans that your hips can skim past.

VXA ©

Mom's Holiday Picture Cookies

2009-08-11T10:50:00.001-07:00

These traditional Holiday Picture Cookies can be used for any holiday depending on the cookie cutter you use. They can be used for Easter, Halloween, Valentines Day, Fourth of July, Birthdays, Thanksgiving, St. Patrick's day or any occasion you can think of. You can even create your own custom cookies by drawing a picture on cardboard to use as a pattern. Cut the pattern out . Place the pattern on the rolled out cookie dough and using a dinner knife cut out the cookie shape using the pattern as a guide. These cookies are much easier to make today with electric mixers...for best results I use the "dough hooks" for the cookie dough and regular beaters for the frosting. Small features can be applied to the cookies with frosting using a tooth pick.
SAND TARTS Traditional white rolled cookie for making picture cookies at Christmastime. Cream 1/2 cup butter or margarine with 2/3 cup granulated sugar. Add 1 egg, well beaten,1/2 tsp. vanilla,and a pinch of salt. Work in 2 cups flour to make "Stiff". Mix well, chill, roll out very thin. Cut and bake in moderate oven, 350*F about 8 minutes. Be careful not to brown. GINGER COOKIES 1 cup sugar (granulated) 1 cup shortening 1 cup molasses 1 egg, beaten 1tsp. baking soda in 1 cup hot water 1/2 tsp. cloves 1tsp. nutmeg 1 tsp. cinnamon 1 tsp. ginger 5 cups flour, or more 1/2 tsp. salt Cream shortening, add sugar, gradually, then molasses and beaten egg. Combine soda and hot water and add to first mixture. Stir in flour sifted with salt and spices. Blend thoroughly. Chill in refrigerator for several hours. Roll out well on floured board. If dough is too soft to cut into figures add more flour. I use 6 cups flour. Bake in moderate oven 350*F about 8-10 minutes. If the figures are delicate use a slower oven. DECORATIVE WHITE FROSTING Sift together 1 1/4 cups 10x confectioners powdered sugar and 1/8 tsp. cream of tarter. add 1 egg white and 1 tsp almond extract. Beat with rotary beater until frosting holds shape. Cover with damp cloth until used. Add food coloring as needed to make decorative cookies.©

My Grandfather

2009-08-11T10:45:00.000-07:00

Clair Blanchard represented all that is right and good in this world.
When I hear the term, "the strong silent type", he immediately comes to my mind.
He was my hero and the solid foundation of our family. We could always count on him.
He was born on a farm on July 20, in Randolph, New York to Thomas Allen Blanchard and the former Frances Louise Meyers (Frankie).. His mother was small in stature and was said to resemble the actress Debbie Reynolds. He had two brothers Claude and younger brother Arnold who died in his teens from a horse riding accident. He had three sisters, Gertrude, Maude and Grace.
He attended Chamberlain Institute in Randolph, where a large charcoal drawing of a deer with antlers he had created remained hanging for decades .
He married his lifelong sweetheart Ethel May Cuffe on June 22. They had two Children Mary Florence(Virginia) and Donald Clair(Donn). They had four Grandchildren and 7 great grandchildren and many great, great grand children.
Clair was in the Army during the Spanish American War, stationed in the Philippines. He worked as an Engineer for the Pennsylvania Railroad most of his life. During World War II he put his talents to work as an expeditor for Bell Aircraft supervising an all female crew.
He was a hard worker and a very good provider for his family. He was a wholesome unassuming gentleman of great integrity. He was very independent and self reliant. He took care of his family and any one else who asked for his help.
He moved his family south to live in Florida in 1950 after a serious operation the year before that cost him his leg and nearly his life. He didn't let the loss of his leg slow him down. He would climb on the roof to make repairs with out asking for help. He enjoyed a good game of poker and in his later years he loved to watch the prize fights and baseball on TV while enjoying a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
He was talented as a wood carver, carving the stocks of rifles with painstakingly intricate nature scenes with deer, etc. The guns were absolute works of art.
He enjoyed cars and usually had a new Cadillac every year or so.
He loved his family and his country. He was a great role model. The world could use more men like my Grandfather, Clair Blanchard.
He passed away on January 9, 1963 and is still greatly missed. VXA ©

My Grandmother

2009-08-11T10:41:00.000-07:00

ETHEL MAY BLANCHARD
Ethel May Cuffe was born September 14, in Olean, New York to Anthony More Cuffe and the former Mary Jane Mc Cleary. She had three sisters, Caroline, Martha and Florence and two brothers George Clayton and Ezra.
She was a natural aristocrat. She had the tastes, manners, dignity and other characteristics of one having been born in to nobility. She knew she was not common and that was reflected in everything she did. She tried to impart that way of thinking to her offspring and encouraged us to uphold certain standards in our activities and in the company we chose to keep.
Ethel was a product of the Victorian Era which required a housewife to keep her home company ready and cheerful , to decorate with taste, to entertain gracefully, to bring prestige to her husband , nurture her children, set moral standards for her family, improve her own knowledge and cultural abilities , shop wisely and economize smartly. She did all of these things and more.
She made her own bread, many loaves at a time. I could smell it baking as I walked home from the bus stop after school. Most of her recipes were from scratch. She made home made donuts which she called "Fried Cakes" which were sometimes sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon. She was famous for her lemon meringue and apple pies. She made beef stew with dumplings, a terrific corned beef hash(always served with applesauce) and some nutmeg flavored cupcake/muffins with a shiny glazed top that haunt my memory till this day. Every night at supper hot tea was served, steeped in an old teapot from loose tea leaves. Ethel would make quite a ritual of "reading" the leaves left in everyones cup and telling our "fortunes".
She was very artistic which was demonstrated in the many lovely pieces of china she hand painted. She was also an avid seamstress and made many beautiful articles. I used to love rummaging through her big round sewing box to find a few brightly wrapped English toffee's she kept squirreled away there. She was well read and was fond of classical music. After she was married she took a trip to California with a wealthy friend of hers, Nell, who showed her a wonderful time. She came home with many stories to tell of her adventure .
Ethel had a good sense of humor and was not above telling a little off color joke from time to time. She loved dressing up on Halloween. One time when I was little she dressed up in an outfit that rendered her unrecognizable and scared the pants off me when she came around the corner of the building in the dark.
She made home a good place to be. She gave up a lot for us. She was devoted to her parents as well as the rest of her family.
Every spring she would have large urns overflowing with colorful pansies and geraniums. There were also huge fragrant lilac bushes as well as holly hocks and lily of the valley in her yard.
As a child she would dress her cat up in baby clothes and push it up and down the street in a doll carriage.
As a young woman she dressed in the Gibson Girl style. Soft dark hair piled in a chignon, flowing skirt hiked up just a bit in back with just a hint of bustle, tightly corseted wasp waist, hourglass figure, poised and well bred with a flash of mischief in her brown eyes . Ethel was a true beauty. She needed no make up and used only a regular lead pencil to fill in her eyebrows a little.
She worked as a telephone operator before marrying Clair Blanchard . She had two children, Mary Florence(Virginia) and Donald Clair (Donn), four grand children and many great and great great grandchildren.
She kept her great style to the end. Always dressing as though she were going to the Country Club even if only going to the grocery store.
She had an innate ability to gravitate to the best areas. She came to live in Winter Park, Florida which is a very upscale community and then moved to Coral Gables, Florida which is also not for anyone financially challenged. She had fine furniture and decorated in the traditional style. Yet she did all her own housework including laundry with the old wringer washer and hung it out on the line.
There is so much more to say about Ethel. She passed away March 16, 1963, less than 3 months after her lifelong sweetheart, Clair. (Their song was "Let Me Call You Sweetheart") She was one of a kind. I am so glad I had the opportunity to know her and learn from her. She was truly the beloved Matriarch of our family.

VXA ©

My Sister

2009-08-11T10:37:00.000-07:00

VIRGINIA DAWN WHITE "Ginny"
Virginia Dawn Kuntz was born on a Spring morning April 4, at dawn in Buffalo, New York to John Wesley Kuntz and the former Virginia Blanchard (Sissy). She had a brother Jack and a sister Valerie.
She was an adorable bright happy child with beautiful curls a'la Shirley Temple. Although she desperately wanted to participate with the other children, she was cautioned by her parents against vigorous play due to health problems she had had since birth. She was home tutored as the regular school atmosphere was deemed to be too risky for her well being. Although in later years, as an adult, Ginny , on her own, took the bus 10 miles each way to a vocational school to receive her high school diploma. We were very proud of her ambition and accomplishment.
As most little girls do, she enjoyed playing with paper dolls and coloring books. She had a large "model doll" with hair she could comb and many outfits she could put on her. Her favorite book was an opera book with colorful pictures of the productions of various operas and their elaborate costumes. She was the typical American girl. She was a bobby-soxer who loved to jitterbug and listen to Frank Sinatra. She loved going to the movies, particularly "swashbucklers" starring Cornell Wilde.
She had a gorgeous singing voice and the family encouraged her to sing. We would harmonize in the car on family outings to "Down in the Valley", "Heart of my Heart" and "Harvest Moon." She sang in the church choir. Her voice stood out among all the rest. Her favorite hymn was "In the Garden". She loved Christmastime and her favorite carol was "Oh Come all ye Faithful". She could do a rendition of "Somewhere over the Rainbow" that would put Judy Garland to shame.
Despite her poor eyesight, Ginny was quite an artist. The figures she drew were long and lean as she was. Her mother said her drawing style reminded her of the artist known as "El Greco". She always made handmade cards for us on our birthdays. They are better than any store bought ones. I have kept them all.
The family always thought of Ginny as mild and quiet, but she always thought of herself as being like the strong willful heroines in movies like "Jane Eyre" and "Gone with the Wind". She was madly in love with "Heathcliff" in "Wuthering Heights". Her favorite color was red and she liked to dress in modern styles. Like a lot of women she loved stylish shoes. She was forced to wear therapeutic footwear as a child and she made up for it later with many snazzy pairs. She never liked having her picture taken wearing her glasses.
While still quite young she developed a white streak in her dark hair of which she was quite proud. There was a Revlon ad campaign out during that time for their "Fire and Ice" fragrance. They featured a model with dark hair with the white streak who always wore sexy red outfits. Ginny closely identified with that image. Later Ginny became a blond again as when she was a child. The look suited her well. She always had her makeup on and nail polish on fingers and toes.
She loved animals and sunbathing. She was a jewelry maven and collected crosses, the more elaborate the better. She collected frogs, either figurines or plush, her favorite flower was Gardenia, her favorite time of year was Fall and her favorite food was Sissy's (our Mother's) home made spaghetti and meatballs.
She was highly intelligent, quick minded, witty and cool with a never ending supply of quips and one liners. She was a walking encyclopedia of every movie, tv and musical performer. She could tell you , without hesitation, who was in what show and who sang what song.
She and I were very close, despite the fact that there were twelve years difference in our ages. We would double date often. She met and eventually married a man named John White. Their wedding was July 8. The marriage was brief and Ginny was not upset to say goodbye to Mr. White.
Ginny loved children although she never had any of her own. She was self-supporting as a live in "Nanny" for a few different families. All the children and families she worked for loved her and considered her a part of their families. Many of the kids kept in contact with her even after they were grown.
She was very spiritual and had a strong Christian faith. She was the designated sayer of Grace each night at the dinner table. Her standard prayer before meals was; " We thank thee Father, wise and good, for homes and friends and daily food; Bless to our use this food we take, and keep us all for Jesus' sake. Amen"
She told me that the morning I was born she had stayed up all the night before, waiting for the news that I had arrived . She told me it was worth it.
She was my best friend in the world. She taught me how to whistle and speak pig-latin. She was my constant companion. I don't think we spent more than a few days apart in all the years we had together. She had the worlds best sense of humor. We would spend hours talking, laughing and just enjoying being together. She radiated goodness.
Ginny and our mother were close pals, also. They would take little weekend trips as well as dining out together and shopping. When Mother fell ill, Ginny spent countless hours in the hospital with her. Everybody loved Ginny. She accepted all her trials and tribulations gracefully and was an inspiration to all who knew her.
Ginny passed away on Easter weekend March 30, 2002. Ginny always said she was so grateful for her wonderful family. I know we were grateful for her.

VXA ©

My Mother

2009-08-11T10:31:00.000-07:00

VIRGINIA BLANCHARD
On February 19, Virginia Blanchard was born Mary Florence Blanchard in Olean, New York, to Clair Blanchard and the former Ethel May Cuffe. Six years later she had a little brother named Donn who came to call her Sissy which became her nickname.
She was a little tomboy and loved to ride her bicycle with out holding the handlebars. She would stand up on the pedals with her arms outstretched above her head trying to touch the leaves on the trees. She had a little Boston Bull dog named Rex. One Christmas when she was little she crept out of the house while her parents were sleeping and made her way to the hardware store down the street and took a shiny red wheelbarrow on display in front of the store home with her as a gift for her mother. As she was only three years old the wheelbarrow was returned to the store and everyone got a chuckle.
She was a sensitive , artistic person, with a little streak of daring. She once tamed a wild ring tail monkey, named Sonny, who rode on her shoulders and was her protector.
She loved the roaring twenties and dressed in that style when it was all the rage. She was very fashion conscious and always wore chic attire even if she made it herself . Her bright red hair and her make up were always perfect. She eventually became a model. She was very well read and loved classical music. She had a great command of the English language and was a stickler about it's proper usage.
She was married twice, once to a man named Frank Gallery, and then to John Wesley Kuntz. She and John had three children, Jack, Virginia(Ginny) and Valerie. She had five grandchildren and many great grandchildren.
She had many hardships in her life and never really got to fulfill her potential as an artist, even though she went to art school and was quite accomplished. She was a wonderful mother and made life exciting. She had impeccable taste and knew quality. She loved nature and often quoted a poem about "October's bright blue weather"
She was sort of a small scale "Auntie Mame". Even though funds were scarce, she could and did make any mundane occasion fun and memorable.
She would spend hours playing with her children and reading to them. They were everything to her. She made Holidays wonderful. She has instilled a sense of holiday tradition that will be carried on for generations.
She was famous for her wonderful homemade spaghetti and meatballs that took.hours to prepare. Her Christmas picture cookies are legendary.
She Made many sacrifices for her family. She worked in real estate in Coral Gables , Florida, and was a friend to all who came in contact with her. One of her clients, an author, described her as saying "Virginia is a gentle soul".
When she was told she had a fatal illness, she was very brave and never complained. She came home from the doctors office and put on a recording of classical music and sat quietly listening to every note as though it were the last time she would ever hear it and was trying to make it last forever.
She always said, if there was any way to make contact with her family after she passed away, she would. She was a great sport, with a heart of gold.
There is so much more to say about my mom, but time is short and I want to publish this on her birthday. ©

VXA

My Father

2009-08-11T10:25:00.000-07:00

JOHN WESLEY KUNTZ
Sissy (my mother) always told me, " You've got your father's nose". When I ever made a humorous quip she would say, " You have your father's corny sense of humor". When I would be trying to think of new businesses I could start to make a lot of money fast, she would tell me " You are JUST like your father." Everything about me even down to my passion for ice cream, apparently is just like my dad.
I don't have a problem with that. What I have a problem with is that he was gone before I got a chance to know him. One thing that Sissy would remind me of that eased the pain of growing up with out him was " Your daddy loved you very much".
I remember a few things about him but not much. Most of what I know is what I've learned from others.
He was born in Miamisburg , Ohio, on March 18. My birthday is the 16th of March so we were both Pisces.
His mother was Elizabeth Snowflake Studebaker and his father was Frank John Kuntz. He had a sister Elizabeth (Aunt Bess) and a sister Clara. He had another sister, Rosie, that passed away at the age of 12 or 13 that supposedly bore an uncanny resemblance to me.
He grew up in an area populated by a large number of Pennsylvania Dutch people and his family's conversations were sprinkled with several colloquialisms we still find ourselves using today at home. He had many colorful stories about the people in his community and their interesting escapades.
I don't know much about how his youth was spent. I have heard that he lived with an uncle as some sort of an apprentice and that his nickname was Jody.
He was married once before he married my mom. He was quite a bit older than Sissy when they got married. He and Sissy had three kids, Jack(John Wesley, Jr.), Ginny(Virginia Dawn) and me, Valerie.
I have heard that dad loved to cook and was very good at it . He also made a major deal out of holidays.
According to my brother, Jack, Dad was hilariously funny . He could imitate people the family knew, he could make funny faces, he could recite nutty poems in foreign accents and was great at ad- libbing puns.
In the business world Dad was reportedly the General Manager of Bell Aircraft in Buffalo and had many business ventures of his own including owning a gas station, being President of the Monarch Mortgage Corporation and the Oklahoma Royalty Corporation.
In his earlier years he was said to be a flamboyant jack of all trades including owning a gambling ship and being a prize fighter and daredevil. He was an aviator and wrote a course on aeronautics. It was rumored that he had some ties to the black market.
Things I do remember are his always having on a crisp white long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had a pleasant aroma of tobacco smoke when I would sit on his lap. He would walk me to school holding my hand. He had big strong nice hands. He taught me how to ride a two wheeler. We would go to concerts in the park and sit on a blanket on the grass. He would swing me on the playground swing sets. I remember lots of laughter and warm feelings. I remember feeling loved.
Among the family memorabilia that I have been digging into in order to write these family websites, I have found letters from my dad to my mom and brother and sister and me. They were written when he was ill and staying with his sister, Bess, just before he passed away. In the letters he always mentioned us all by name and inquired about each of us, as to how we were doing, etc. We were all in his thoughts right to the end.
One letter came from Aunt Bess after dad was gone in which she wrote "John kept a picture of Valerie next to where he slept and to everyone that would come in he would proudly announce ' That's my daughter Val, She's my youngest' ".
I have missed him so much through out my life, especially at my weddings and Father's day. I know he did not choose to leave us. It was beyond all our control.
I do feel his presence a lot. I feel lucky that I had such a neat dad. I am glad I inherited his sense of humor, his love of holidays , his ability to cook and his entrepreneurial spirit. I'm just not too thrilled about the nose .©

VXA

THIS GIVES "ACTION REPORTER" a NEW MEANING

2009-08-07T09:53:00.000-07:00

Several years back I had an occasion to enlist the help of my local TV consumer action reporter to aid in some business with a company that I was unable to resolve on my own. I phoned my local tv station and my call was screened by a very efficient sounding woman who told me that my complaint would be reviewed and if it were deemed interesting enough to be shown on the air I would be receiving a return phone call. She also told me they received hundreds of calls and my chances of being called back were slim to none. Within minutes I received a call from the same lady saying that her Action news team was VERY interested in speaking to me and would it be alright if the producer of the show were to call me and set up an appointment to see me later that day. I agreed. A few minutes later the phone rang again and a man's pleasant voice said "Hello, This is 'Jeb', I am the producer of the Action Reporter segment and we think your story would be something we might be able to help you with. Can I stop by your house about noon today to discuss it further?" I agreed once again. Right at 12:00 there was a knock at my door and it was "Jeb," the producer. He was tall, with brown hair a little gray around the temples, wire rimmed glasses and a moustache. He was dressed in business casual attire and had a very intellectual though kind face. His manner was friendly as he handed me some papers to sign. He asked me how long I had lived in the area. He was a good listener and seemed to encourage me to talk about myself. I was a little surprised, as today everyone seems to be in a hurry and no one takes the time to listen to a stranger, let alone seem genuinely interested. I found myself telling him things I don't usually share with just anyone. He was so easy to talk to. He told me that he had only been here a few months. He had been at another TV station somewhere else and had gotten a contract here for a couple of years. When he left I must admit I was a little excited as I was a newly divorced lady and I had not received that much positive attention in quite some time. My mind wandered to what it would be like to get to know him better. To be the girlfriend of a TV producer..I stopped myself as I knew I was being silly..after all he was a good looking man in a high profile position who could get any one he wanted. What would he want with me? I had occasion to interact a few more times with "Jeb". He called me on the phone and the conversations turned from business to personal...he wanted to know "all" about me. He emailed me several times a day and told me he was so interested in me and asked could we meet for lunch. He told me there was something about me that was special the first time he saw me. He invited me to his new house that he had just purchased. He said he was a lonely bachelor with just two dogs to keep him company. When there was a gap of a day or two between his calls or emails, I found myself missing him. I was just about to give in and make a date with him but something about his excessive interest in me just didn't make sense. Being the inquisitive type, I had to go online and check out his new place in the county records. Much to my dismay..The deed not only had his name on it but also the name of his wife, "Doreen". The deed called them "A married couple".

Looking back, I am so relieved I did not go out with him. It turned out that his wife had stayed behind in their old place to sell it while he moved here and bought a new place for her to join him in once the old house was sold. Apparently she would come down to stay a few days at a time with him which would explain the gaps in his communications with me. I must admit I was more than a little disappointed that he was trying to use me to fill the boredom until his wife moved here, as I was lonely too. Fortunately, my intuition kicked in and saved me from making a mistake I am sure I would have lived to regret if I had allowed any "action" to take place with the "Action Reporter". VXA©

Human Nature and the Price of Applesauce

2009-08-07T09:48:00.000-07:00

When my son was a baby, I was an impoverished young widow. I could not afford to buy traditional jars of baby food for him.
There was a little open air store about a block away from where we lived that sold primarily, bread, milk,soda's, beer and snack's. Occasionally a desperate customer would pop in for dog or cat food or eggs or sugar or another ingredient needed to complete a meal. For just such emergencies they kept a small supply of groceries on a few shelves which were hardly ever touched. In fact the dust was so thick on the tops of these items it obscured the paper price tags stuck on each one.
The lady who ran the place never moved from her folding chair in the back of the store. She was heavy set, 60ish, gray hair pulled back into an untidy bun. She wore a flowered house dress and a dingey white sweater over her shoulders. Her expression was sullen and she never smiled or spoke. She had a fine black moustache gracing her upper lip.
I used to go in that store almost daily carrying my new little boy. I discovered they had a few jars of applesauce on the shelves, I wiped the dust away from the price tag and saw it was marked 19 cents. I thought I would buy it for my son as an inexpensive alternative to baby food. I came in and bought another jar the next day. The third day when I came to buy more, the tops of all the jars of applesauce were dusted and sporting a new price tag of 20 cents each. All the other groceries around them were still dust covered as before.
Instead of being glad she had a customer for her old applesauce, she saw she had a sucker on the line and decided to make a bigger profit by raising the jars of applesauce one cent a jar. That applesauce probably would still be sitting there till this day if it weren't for a poor young mother and a hungry baby that just happened to stumble across it.
I hope that old woman enjoyed her few extra pennies...I wonder if they made her smile?
VXA©

Life Goes On

2009-08-07T09:47:00.000-07:00

"Energy cannot be created or destroyed it can only be changed from one form to another." —Albert Einstein
Humans can only see a part of the Electromagnetic Spectrum that is visible to our eyes, although it is only a small fraction of the entire spectrum. Similarly, humans cannot hear sounds above and below certain thresholds even though there is a wide range of frequencies. An example would be a dog whistle that we cannot hear but our dog can. There are many things in our universe that our human bodies cannot detect with our five senses but that does not mean they do not exist.
Assuming what Albert Einstein says is true, and energy cannot be destroyed, then the life force, which is pure energy, cannot be destroyed. It can only change from one form to another. Therefore when a loved one dies their physical bodies appear lifeless and dead but what was the essence of their being, their awareness and their spirit continues in another form. We may not be able to see and hear and touch them as we did before but they still exist.
In my research of this subject, I have ascertained that “spirits” will sometimes use electricity as a means of communicating with us. Lights flickering when there is no electrical problem, songs playing on the radio or TV right at the appropriate moment or unexplained phone calls where you actually hear the departed ones voice .
In my personal experience I have had situations occur that I know were my departed loved ones trying to make contact with me. They could not have been coincidences.
The signs of communication are sometimes very subtle and you have to be on the lookout for them constantly to pick up on them. Other times they are right there in your face so there is no mistake that it is spirit communication. I have had actually had tangible objects left for me that could not have come from any other explainable source.
There is so much we don’t understand. The magnitude of it is so great I don’t think we are supposed to grasp it all at this juncture.
I am of the belief that what we seek to know will be revealed to us at the appropriate time.
In the meantime, I find it comforting that there is so much more out there than we can perceive in these limited bodies and the almost certainty that life is endless and that we will be reunited with our loved ones someday gives me hope. VXA©

The Spoon

2009-08-07T09:16:00.000-07:00

The warm spicy smell of Christmas goodies fill the cozy kitchen as I, now the grown up mommy,
prepare the treats in my home as my mother and grandmother did in the happy place where I
spent my childhood. It is as if I am a link in a loving chain of motherhood. Passing on to my children the wonderful holiday traditions so cherished in my family.
As I work, if you can call it work, for this is different than everyday kitchen chores, I use my
favorite spoon. It is a big sturdy silver plated spoon, very old, with the silver plating worn off on many spots. It had belonged to my husband’s mother who died when he was a young boy.
He always refers to it as “my mother’s spoon”.
My mind fleets for a moment wondering what it must have been like for him losing her like that.
I was grown when my mom died, but losing her was the most painful experience of my life.
I think of how my kids would react if I were to leave them so unexpectedly. They depend on me so much.
Tears well up in my eyes making it hard to see the recipe book. Enough of these sad thoughts.
This is supposed to be a festive time. Whenever I use this spoon I feel so close to the mother-in-law I never met. I wonder if she ever thought about what kind of woman her precious little boy would marry. I wonder if I would meet with her approval.
We are not alike in a physical sense, as she was small and dark and I am large and fair, but her
internal makeup must have been like mine because of our shared love for her son.
I am sorry that she was not able to see what a fine man he has grown up to be. She would be so
proud of him. He is strong yet gentle and so handsome.
My mother and grandmother lived to see their grandchildren and get to know them. I have two
of my own whom I cherish. Whenever I hold this spoon that she used in her kitchen so long ago, I feel very close to her. It is like I am holding her hand and telling her not to worry , that I will take care of her son. I will try my best to make him happy as she would have wanted him to be.
I wonder for a minute , who, if anyone, will use this spoon to make loving christmas goodies
when I am gone. And perhaps feel the feelings I am feeling.
My question is answered. The front door bangs open loudly, interrupting my thoughts, as two little dark haired girls come dashing into the kitchen calling “ Grandma! Grandma!” ©

By Valerie X Armstrong

2008-02-27T15:58:00.000-08:00

Fat People are Fair Game

2008-02-24T17:22:00.000-08:00

I just wrote these comic strips to illustrate how offensive it would be to most people to witness this kind of behavior to disabled people or black people or gay people...Yet it is widely (no pun intended) accepted to speak this way to people of size....Fat people are still the brunt of this kind of abuse.
Things Fat People Hear Every Day #1 by VXA ( Just substitute "fat" for "disabled")

Things Fat People Hear Every Day #2 by VXA

2008-02-24T16:50:00.000-08:00

( Just substitute "fat" for "gay")

Things Fat People Hear Every Day #3 by VXA

2008-02-24T16:30:00.000-08:00

(Just substitute "fat" for "black")

If you would just substitute the word "fat " for "black", you'll see what I mean...Fat people are usually always thought of as lazy or smelly or stupid,or weak willed when in fact that is as much of a false stereotype as what is being said about the black person in the cartoon. There would be outrage if anyone were to speak to someone in a wheelchair or a gay person or a black person the way that fat people are spoken to...Sometimes the words aren't spoken aloud but many people think of a large person as "less than"..Some people have tried everything to lose weight and can't keep it off...I believe there are two kinds of fat people..There are some that can diet and lose weight because they over ate and gained weight as a result. I am not referring to those people in this article although they ,like any human beings, deserve kindness and respect...but there are others who don't eat a lot and still are big no matter what measures they take to be slim...They should not be treated as being guilty of something they did not do...Medical science does not know everything and so far there is no permanent "cure" for obesity. © 2011 VXA