Happy Birthday

linda22Happy Birthday to our irrepressible sister Linda.  I miss you.

I miss your goofy garage sales, your awesome car, your love of thrift stores.  I miss your love, your understanding, your heartfelt wish to make others happy.

I miss you as my confidant, second mother to my daughters, my happy-go-lucky camping companion.  You always made me laugh, and drew me into adventures to places and activities we maybe should not have gone.  Sarah still calls our camping weekends therapy weekends.  Not because they were therapeutic, but because Camping-Signshe swears she needs therapy for them to this day.

Before you passed, you told me that you would tell me what happens after and you did.  And you continue to send to me small little missives, like messages on a carrier pigeon. Sometimes just a smell, or a word I see written that brings your smile to my eyes, and your laugh to my ears.

Yesterday I was pulling some books from my shelf, and out fell a birthday card that you had created for me many years ago.  Were you reminding me that I need to prepare for your birthday, or just saying hey?  Once, in the middle of a snow storm in Minneapolis WMT blasted from my radio for just a minute.  What the heck, I had just been thinking of you.  And of course the dream  you sent shortly after you left. (the dream)  Previous File: jmTreeOfLife_1_10.psd Epson_2_05WP_720uni_2005_0411

I smell the scent of greenhouse flowers while driving down highways.  That started after as well.  I am not sure why I associate this with you but I surely do.

So yes, you have taught me, loved me, and I continue to cherish you.  I wish we could really talk, catch up, go thrifting, visit corny parks, and live in each others moments.   I miss that part of having you here.

Happy Happy Birthday my sister. Continue to enjoy your life beyond.

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trains in the distance

train_plum_blossomsAs a small child I spent time with my Grandmother Schumacher in the summer.  Nights I slept on the couch, next to her dining room window, and listened to the train  whistle blowing as the train headed through Marengo.  I dreamed of  where the train could take me, the mystery of adventures I would enjoy.

Now what seems like a century later, near our house, across the road and past the swamp is a railroad track.  The sound comes through our open windows in the summer evening,; drifts across on the cold air, like wisps of ghostly sighs, in the winter.  The glory of it’s song wakes me in the evening, and I lay awake wondering where it is heading, who else is hearing its music.

During the day, I can see the train passing, cars heaped with coal, tankers with oil, corn syrup, flat cars holding massive equipment, and trailer cars with names like Evergreen, Pacific, Burlington,Hanji.  The train for all of it’s fundamental use is a magical mystery for me.  Graffiti adorns the sides of it’s cars, art from place and people unknown.

At times, the train stops on the tracks across the road, across that swamp, and its brakes chime a large sweet chime.  The first time I heard this, I thought perhaps fairy had broken through the veil, bringing song.

I am happy trains exist, transporting life.

 

 

 

The Second Saturday Strikes Again

Mara1625492_10152266100397490_1998179080_nAn occasional store…a communal setting of joy…a great time is had by all…Cookies…palm reading…great gifts to browse and buy…time with Ms. Mara!

Call this what you want, I am so happy Second Saturday exists.  225 water Street is a store filled with beautiful stuff, magical mosaics, kindred spirits, and just plain good conversation!  Not to mention a few ghosties that may float by and send a happy chill up your spine.

I met Mara years ago, during the days I still lived above 225 Water Street, the days that the store was an empty shell; dusty and waiting for positive nuturing.  I loved the building there, loved my time spent living there and dreamed that someday, someone, would come and brighten the space below me.  Little did I know the lady would also kick me out of my lofty tower.  Oh well, Life moves on, and I happily continue to be a part of the place, dusting the area with my own brand of human haunting!

225 Water Street, the home of the Tile Gypsies; those women who spend time quietly decorating the streets of Jordan with tiny little baubles and beauty.  225 Water Street, the home of happy friends!

Come ommpalmsut one and all, come out for the fun, come out for the joy.  Brush up against the spirit of old, and engage the spirit of new.

Have your palm read, eat a cookie, buy a gift.  Just come out for the fun!!!  Celebrate that Spring is near!http://www.knaresborough.co.uk/

Birthing Maggie

This morning I woke dreaming of a letter I was writing to Maggie, My oldest daughter, telling her about the day she was born.

So…

Dear Maggie;

I am sure you do not remember the day you were born, except perhaps in a deep spiritual way.  But now, after you yourself have had two children, you do know the feelings that surround a new mother.  Glory, happiness, fear, relief, exhaustion.170463_10150998581569870_1412500758_o  maggie and michael

I had all of those with you and with Sarah.

With you, I decided to have a natural birth, at home, with a physicians assistant in attendance.  I woke the first morning with cramps, not sure if I was indeed in labor.  The cramps increased, and we called our PA to come.

I was a queen with attendees for a while, your aunt Laura, came, her husband Mike came, My friend Bev Gardner came.  Everyone was there for the party, Sitting around my bed, talking with me, holding my hand and helping me breathe during the contractions.  It was a time!  And the time drug out, and drug out.  In retrospect, I should have been up walking around, not laying on bed, although the night before I did scrub all the floors of our apartment on my hands and knees, cleaned the counters, washed the stove, refrigerator, did laundry, put fresh sheets on my bed, dusted.  I nested.  So that day, I had little to do other than lay in my bed and hold court.  Which became a little boring.  For everyone.  But the contractions continued.  It became late. people went home, the PA napped in the spare room.  Your father, Jef, was down in the living room with a few of his cronies, having a party.  I was getting a bit cranky,  I had images of my nice clean home being partied animaled, and was not well pleased.    I rested through the night, quiet, with my contractions, and communing with you.  Waiting for you.23612_1154317597445_1812849527_296478_2334656_n

The next day, the contractions continued but did not increase.  The PA went home, said to call him.  Then something happened.  HOO BOY!  The contractions continued big!  The PA was nowhere to be found, so we decided to drive to the hospital for your birth.  Over railroads tracks, bumpy roads, snow falling,  I did not know I had such a large capacity for enduring pain!!!

I smile when I write this, because it is true that the pain memory goes away, and a mother is left with the glorious glow of warmth and love of having a small child in her arms.

So, you were born in a hospital after all,  and very quickly after I arrived.  Your were beautiful, perfect, lovely.  I loved you so.

We were in the hospital for two days, a very crowded ward, with women having babies, and in beds in the hall.  Everyone had a baby that week.  Friends came to visit, I cuddled you, loved you.

The day we went home was glorious, your bed was a small basket in our room.  I slept near you, with you, and when I was not in the room I tiptoed upstairs on a regular schedule to check you, listen to your soft breaths, feel the rise and fall of your chest, and nuzzle your downy head.  I was in love.

That my dear is how you were born.  I love you always,scan

Mom

imagesfireMy wish for you all in this New Year is a time of beginning, positive change, opportunity, and love.  I wish for you a multitude of blessings and prosperity, a plethora of positivity and and abundance of laughter!  I hope for you a great and crazy river of joy!sidney

My years motto… My crazy runs wild and it runs deep!  For you as well, be crazy, be wild, be alive in our coming year!cropped-166343_10150111355198688_756903687_7658541_5736996_n.jpg

May your season be blessed

 

pagan-christmasMay your spirit be joyful, your hearts full of love, your families and friends warm and safe.

May the spirit of God help heal our world with abundance and health on this Christmas day.  Amen

Palm Reader

Winter Solstice Celebration

Winter Solstice Celebration

I am delighted to let you all know that I will be reading at Mind,Body, Spirit in St Cloud this Saturday, December 21.   If you are interested in having your palm read please contact Mind, Body Spirit at  320-203-9630  to schedule an appointment.  You can have your reading and then do some very wonderful Christmas Shopping!

   Have a Very Merry Solstice

Re-Define Neccesity

I am thankful.  I have more than I need.  I have more than enough.  My home is filled with stuff, my cupboards with food, my car with gas.  I have love, I have family, warmth, friends, joy.

I have employment, enough to live, not enough to immerse myself in conspicuous consumption. 

During my youth I embraced minimal living, reveled in it.  As I grew, I forgot the beauty of less, fell more and more into the trap of gain for the sake of having.

At this stage of my life, I am returning to the basics of life.  And I delight in this.  I am remembering gardening, canning, raising chickens, and glory in the prospects of the fantastic freedom of recreating my life in a simple, less hectic fashion.

 For Thanksgiving, redefine your necessity.  Give thanks.

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries

Let's Talk! Promotions

Bringing you to your public

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