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/

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

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.

Shelly Shines

We have a niece, us sisters, daughter of Sandy.  I have watched, from afar, her growing from a child into a magnificent woman.  Shelly literally shines.  She is a faithful woman, and her feet seemingly (to my eyes) walk just a little above the ground, she floats just a bit due to the lightness and beauty of her spirit.

Shelly is strength.  She moved across country on her own to follow her dreams, reenergize her life, and she succeeded with glory.  She Succeeds!

Shelly helped me to remember my love for my Mother.  She does not know this until now.  She loved my Mom so much. with a beautiful and pure delight.  I watched her love, admired it, and came to know Mom

through new, mature, eyes.  Thank you Shelly, for that grace.

She is a worker, succesful in her career with the Marion Police Department, a mother, raising 2 sturdy, strong, smart, energetic sons.  A wife, married to a husband who loves her in return, a partner to her.  A daughter, beloved.

Do not misunderstand me, Shelly is also feisty!  She is fierce in standing for her beliefs, defending her family and those she loves. Determined, funny, laughing, passionate, truly alive!

Lately, with her admirable strength, faith, love, and grace, she has had 2 succesful surgeries to remove cancer from her body.  She has documented this, explained this and is surviving this.

Again, I have watched, and seen the outpouring of love coming back to her from her many friends.  She is loved.  Understandably.

I am happy to continue to watch her grow, to see her in turn become a grandmother, her in turn become that woman beloved by generations to come.

Bless you Shelly, thank you for being!

 

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Tilly Evan Jones

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