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

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy First Calendar Day of Spring!!!

225-water-street-storeIt has been a while since I could say Happy Spring.  Yes, I know, Beginning Saturday it will be cold again, but Hey!  It is Spring!

I will be celebrating Spring with Ms. Mara this Saturday at 225 Water Street!  Hope to see you there!  Many items to browse and maybe you can have your palm read!!!

Second Saturday Update!!!!!!

ALERTNo Second Saturday this month!  Sadly my co-conspirator, Mara, has fallen and broken her wrist.

We have rescheduled for March 22nd!  I hope to see you there!alertcat2

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.

 

 

 

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

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

Second Saturday

Life is a real hoot

Life is a real hoot

SECOND SATURDAY

When two friends get together and share delightful news, gossip, dreams, love and plans many great things happen!

When My friend Mara and I conspire over coffee, inventions are created, plans are laid, joy is shared and goodness is afoot!  Life is a hoot, so let’s have more fun  Come and join us at Second Saturday                                                I will be reading palms life is never hiddencrowbar

                                  Mara will be a most fabulous host

    Together we can add joy to your life with our selection of items to peruse   and just perhaps purchase for yourself or others.  Up-cycled art, clothing,  vintage items,

                             Mara’s  Magnificent Mosaics!

 Think Spring!  Think Gardens! Think Art! Think Friendship! 

                                                   Think Beginning!

 

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!

 

Celebration of Life

Our Mother has passed, we will mourn her absence, but mostly, we will celebrate her life.  Our Mother lived strong, wild, ferocious, bodacious.  She lived with faith, and joy, and strength.

She left us much, her joy of flowers, her affinity for sunshine, fresh air, natural living.  We will, all of her eight children, numerous grand children and even more countless great grandchildren remember her daily.

Countless gestures; we find our hand placed over our forehead, shading our eyes with exasperation.  hear ourselves with small phrases, “For goodness sakes.”  “Good Grief”.  sound like her, we hear her with our own words.

We enjoy chickens, well, some of us.  Fresh eggs, apples, bananas.  I never could get the hang of Rocky Mountain Oysters and frog legs but I think some of us have.

We have countless house plants, knick knacks, and candles scattered about our homes.  Just like our mother.

We have a a stubborn determination to live and survive, our Mother taught that to us as well.  She lived greatly.

We will miss her, and we will celebrate her always.

The magnificant Ya Ya’s

Last night presented me with the marvelous chance to read palms for a  beautiful, dynamic group of five women, They call themselves the Ya Ya’s, in honor of the intense friendship they have shared for years!

The setting for this small gathering was in the home and garden of one of these fabulous friends.  Her home was simple grace, replete with warmth, peace, fulfillment and lovely heart.  Her home presented a sense of cherished space

Doing a night of reading for a particular group is an interesting experience,  always a theme.  These women share not only their love for one  another but also the traits of humour, strength, and determination that have allowed them each to travel through independent lives with amazing spirit.

If all my evenings were so blessed!

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