Solstice and Cheri

winter-boatMy sister Cheri was born a some decades ago on a stormy solstice night.  My mother once told me that her middle name was Gale because she blew into the window during a snow storm.  She is a storm, of goodness, and heart, and compassion.  The Solstice is the perfect time for her to be born.

A Solstice celebration is one of a new beginning, of letting in the opportunity for longer days, more sunlight, perhaps healing, perhaps joy.

My sister is that, she opens her heart to joy, to the opportunity of hope.

I admire her, I love her.  Happy Birthday Cheri, I am glad you are in the world.mom.cheri

PALM READING

mmpalmsAfter a self imposed hiatus from reading palms, I am so happy to announce that I am once more checking out your lines, helping you understand your destiny, and just having fun with people I enjoy.  Although I am not as glamorous as Ms.Monroe in the picture,  I promise you an interesting time!

Currently you can see my schedule at Mind Body Spirit in St Cloud, and schedule a reading there for your convenience.  I will post continuing updates with new venues, and offers.

Otherwise, I am available for private parties, (I love Bachorlette Parties) and private readings.

Your destiny, your life is in the palm of your hands.

cropped-thankfulness.jpg

 

Spring Happy Happy Spring

ostaraSometimes, the weather does not feel like our season is changing, but our hearts…our hearts feel the change.

Blessings on this Ostara, may the wisdom of moving forward lighten your souls

Time for a Wagon

Time for a Gypsy Wagon

Please take some time to check out my new endeavor!tyger voyage

Am I wrong

bohimean

 

A comment to John the other day.  “My favorite people are really weird!”    It is true.  With other souls who have a skewered outlook on living I am the most comfortable, the most at home.

October 11, 1924

momasbabyOur Mother, Dorothy,  was born this day.

Happy Birthday Mom.  So many miss and love you.

fam

Mom’s 80th, still young.

I know our niece Shelly thinks of you every day, I believe she misses  you the most. 4 generations Cheri starts grieving about this time of year. but I know you are with her holding her hand.  Sandi Kaye has a broken heart. Sandy B I think has trouble believing you are gone, Dee is lonely for you, Richard just plain misses you and Steve grieves in his quiet fashion. I think our Linda is overjoyed that you are in Heaven with her, causing mayhem and hilarity.  Me, I am still befuddled, finally getting to know you now that you are gone.mom.cheriYthe kidsour daughters and sons, your grandchildren, your greats and your great greats, all miss you.

lovelymomIf you had been allowed, you might have been a hell raiser, in a good way.  You always had a hidden talent for mischief, and a glint in your eye.  I’m amazed the glint didn’t vanish after the life you lead as a youth, farmed out to an older husband at 16, lonely and isolated in the middle of nowhere Iowa, no amenities, just hard work and babies.  Your resilience was something else again, candling eggs, working in a nursing home, a bar, learning to make money and support your children when Dad passed.  I remember your learning to drive a car,  you were determined as you  headed into the ditch, but stopped in time.  Your red-headed Irish temper flared just a bit right then.

momsexymomTo this day I feel a surge of delight when I see make up samples, your days as an Avon rep have stayed with me always, with your blue case of wonders.mom

bernie momYou sure knew how to love your man, and you deserved more love than you might have received.   But you had moments of glory and happiness.

lindaI imagine you, with Linda, our sister, your daughter. You have both reconciled, you are fantastic evolved beings. I imagine you in a rocker, with a fluffy white kitten on your lap, or laying in the sun, turning a lovely copper.

I love and live for the sunshine. You taught your children that. Some cold days I turn my face to the sun and feel your warmth in my soul.  I imagine you are always in the warmth of glory these days.  You deserve to be, you deserve to rest.

beautifulmom

 

 

 

 

Freedom

children

children of the poor

Yesterday I watched a news story.  Women and children are coming to our boarders, believing that they will find freedom.  Believing in  the American Dream;  met at the border by rich US citizens, turned away, screamed at, disregarded as people.  We furiously protect what we have, forgetting where we got it!

Trail of Tears

We forget that our ancestors came from other countries; pushing out the native people who lived here.  In many cases with genocide.

We forget that our ancestors came, and lived in hovels, worked, scraped, struggled.  So that they could have the American Dream. We forget that they were scorned and terrorized, yet kept coming.  thp-ny-tenementWe forget where we came from.

This is not a treatise on immigration policy, I am not smart enough for that.  This is a call for understanding and love, for a return to our basic values of liberty and justice for all.  What are the words?

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

This is how most of us arrived here.  My great grandparents from Prussia and England with little, working their way here to the Midwest, coming to dream.

Today, everyday, remember and honor.liberty

 

 

 

 

 

 

Previous Older Entries

Tilly Evan Jones

“I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable and beautiful and afraid of nothing as though I had wings.” ~Mary Oliver

Lost Creek

Old West Lore, Old West Leather, Chuckwagons, and More