Haunted Christmas

A tale of Christmas from Wisconsin.  It is quite reminiscent of another tale I have read as well.  I wonder really if it is actually a haunting or a time of joy. ...

Haunted Christmas

A spooky Wisconsin ghost story 

retold by S.E. Schlosser 

The soft thud of following footsteps echoed behind him as he hurried through the snowflakes toward home.  They kept pace with him, quickening when he quickened and slowing when he slowed.  It was creepy.  His flesh crawled at the sound and he sped up, cursing himself for walking home alone from the midnight Christmas Mass. 

Normally not a pious man, the middle-aged bachelor had suddenly been struck by a wish to hear the old Christmas songs sung once again by a church choir, and had walked across town to attend the service.  Now he regretted his choice, as he passed dark house after dark house in the snowy night, and the footsteps ever followed. 

He sped up until he was nearly running, and skidded into his street.  A few more paces brought him to the bottom of his front steps, and as he dashed up them, he realized suddenly that the following footsteps had ceased abruptly.  He glanced behind him at the cross-street from which he had just turned and saw only one pair of footprints in the snow-covered street when there should have been two.  He frowned in puzzlement, and then shuddered as a cold breeze struck him, driving snow against his collar, and slammed against the door.  Almost, it seemed to pass through the door, but that was superstitious nonsense.  His hand was shaking as he unlocked the front door and hurried inside. 

     He expected darkness, but was delighted to see the yellow glow of firelight coming from his study doorway upstairs.  His old housekeeper, whom he thought firmly asleep in her attic bedroom, must have lit the fire pending his return.  He shrugged out of his coat and paused for a moment, amazed to find it still warm and dry, though he had walked for more than a mile through a snow-storm.  It was almost as if he’d been walking in a bubble of calm air, though he remembered the soft snowflakes hitting his face when he first stepped out of church.  Before the mysterious footsteps began…

     His shudder was interrupted by a shout of greeting as his old friend Andy came hurrying out of the study.  His whole face lit up in a grin at the unexpected surprise.  The two men shook hands heartily and retreated back to the warmth of the firelight, talking so fast they stumbled over each other’s words.  Andy had left town years ago to take a government job in D.C., and they hadn’t seen each other since. 

      Nearly an hour passed before it occurred to him that his guest might be hungry.  His offer of a meal was instantly accepted, but Andy was unwilling to leave the comfort of the fire to eat in the kitchen, so he jogged downstairs alone to fetch some food.  He didn’t wonder at his friend’s reluctance to join him in the kitchen.  Andy had looked very pale and had kept shivering with cold while they talked.  He hoped his friend wasn’t ailing for anything. 

      A few moments later he was back with warmed up meat and potatoes and a couple of glasses of beer, apologizing profusely as he handed Andy a plate, for the mismatched dinnerware.  Andy just laughed and hunkered down to eat.  When they were both finished, he showed his friend to a guest room and then tumbled into his own bed to sleep, all his apprehension caused by mysterious footsteps forgotten in the visit of his friend. 

      He jumped out of bed Christmas morning and dashed immediately downstairs to the guest room to rouse his friend.  Andy wasn’t there, and the bed had not been slept in.  That was odd.  He ran down to look in the study, but Andy wasn’t there either, and one plate full of food was sitting on the end-table beside his old friend’s chair.  It was completely untouched, though he’d seen Andy eating from it the night before!  Skin creeping at the thought, he ran to the kitchen and asked his housekeeper if she’d seen Andy.  But the housekeeper had seen no one either the previous night or this morning.  He flopped down on the bottom step of the staircase, completely baffled.  Where had Andy gone?  It was a mystery that plagued him all Christmas Day, and he did not enjoy his holiday dinner at all, a fact that annoyed his housekeeper. 

      He was awakened the next morning from a restless sleep by the sound of the front door bell.  He stumbled out of bed and was splashing water from the bedside pitcher onto his sleepy eyes when a knock came at his bedroom door.  When he answered, his housekeeper handed him a telegram that had just arrived.  As she hurried back downstairs to prepare his breakfast, he opened it curiously, not knowing who would be telegraphing him so urgently. 

       As he read the telegram, he started to tremble.  The message was short and to the point:  Andy’s family regretted to inform him that his old friend Andy had passed away on Christmas Eve in his home in Washington D.C.  He sat down hard on the bed, the telegram fluttering away from his hand.  It must have been Andy who had followed him home on Christmas Eve.  That would explain the eerie footsteps and the dry coat in the middle of the snow storm.  He’d spent Christmas Eve with a ghost! 

http://americanfolklore.net/folklore/2008/08/haunted_christmas.html

Thanksgiving With Family

Memories race through my mind as I celebrate the Thanksgiving Day.  So many memories of family gatherings and changes within the family causing Thanksgiving to be a holiday both enjoyable and bitter sweet.  Images of family members who are no longer with me tumble through my reminisces and congregate as stories I share with those who are new to the family.  The past, present, and future all together on this one day.  A time of joy and a time of reflection.

Take for instance, one Thanksgiving when I was a child.  I grew up celebrating Christmas on Thanksgiving.  We would have a big family dinner with Gramp and Gram, Aunt Lois and Uncle Ted and my older cousins.  Yeah, I was the baby of the family and enjoyed it to the max!  I admit it!  I also loved to be with Jimmy and Dar.  We were the three youngest and always had to sit together at the children's table.  That meant we got to have the food first as well!  Yummy!  Turkey, potatoes, dressing, gravy, corn, and Aunt Lois' homemade rolls.  I loved her rolls and homemade bread!  They were delicious and warm with butter dripping down the sides.  Mmmmmm. I can taste them now.  How I miss her, I was her, Vonnie, the only person to call me that and get away with it.

Anyway, there we would be, sitting at the children's table, chowing done the food, getting up and getting more.  We goofed off a lot and normally got into some kind of trouble, but it was minor.  The older cousins and my brother and sister were with the adults, always thinking they were so superior to us, but we were the ones who got away with doing things since we were in a different room normally.  Ah, yes, Jimmy and Dar.  When we finished our meal, we would be sitting in front of the Christmas tree.  Yep, Christmas tree, for Gramp and Gram would be leaving for Florida and we were going to fit both holidays into one.  One of the reasons why I decorate my own home before Thanksgiving; I'm use to it!

There were the presents.  Sitting under the tree.  Bright packages, so mysterious.  It wouldn't hurt to touch them.  No, never!  "Here's one, Dar!  There's one, Yvonne!  Hey Jimmy, here's one for you!"  It's kind of weird.  We never had very many presents.  Maybe one or two, but nothing like today where some clamor for a bunch.  No, only a couple at most for this day and we would be happy.  I don't remember what we received. I just know we loved it.  The funny thing is, it isn't the presents which made the day, it was the people and I know this sounds weird, the food which made it memorable.

Goofing off with my cousins, having fun at our table, spending time together.  We didn't go running off to go shopping. We didn't leave in a hurry to get home and watch a football game or something else.  No, we spent time together.  We talked, we played games, if there was snow we went sledding, threw snowballs and made a snowman.  The adults talked and played card games which we would join in with at times.  We loved to be together and spend that day with each other, creating the memories I now cherish.  At least I did.

Today, I did this with my husband, daughter, and mom.  We watched the Macy's parade together, laughing and talking, enjoying each other.  We feasted on homemade blueberry bread, turkey, potatoes, dressing, gravy, and squash.  We had fun together.  New memories were made and joy filled the house.  Yeah, it's the people and the food.  It's the togetherness and family.  It's the love and the sharing.  Miss you Dar and Jimmy, we could have had a blast today.  Miss the ones who have gone, Gramp, Gram, Aunt Lois, Uncle Ted, Ivan, and Teddy.  Love the memories and the jokes.  I think I'll go make a turkey sandwich.  Wish I had some of Aunt Lois' homemade rolls for it.  Happy Thanksgiving!  

A Day of Thanksgiving

The night before Thanksgiving and the house is filled with anticipation.  The aroma of pumpkin pies, homemade breads, sweet potatoes, and squash floats through the rooms causing all inside to hunger for the feast foods.  All are engrossed with preparations for the coming day from the eldest to the youngest.  Laughter abounds and conversations flow with animation as families gather together this night.  Tomorrow the feast will be had and the memory of those who first enjoyed the bounties of the land and gave thanks for these gifts will be reflected upon as the participants share their own reasons for being thankful.

A day of thanksgiving.  A day of love.  A day of family.  A day of blessings.  A day the pilgrims celebrated after a winter of death and a summer of hope.  A day President Lincoln declared to be set aside in 1863 to be thankful during the rages and atrocities of a civil war.  A day President Roosevelt  and Congress set to be the 4th Thursday of November not just for giving thanks, but to lengthen the Christmas shopping season.  Although, we pay homage to the pilgrims for this day; the truth is President Lincoln is the real father of the holiday.  This day of thankfulness.

Yet, is it really the type of day Lincoln hoped for?  Or has it become a day of gorging, football, squabbling, and shopping?  To some it really is a day of thanksgiving.  Of sharing the blessings one has received through the year.  For others, it is a day of loneliness.  Of being lost.  Of being without.  To some, it is a day of family, but not of love.  It is a day of fighting, bickering, and hate.  To countless people, it is a day of football and gorging.  Of devouring the feast and enjoying a game.  To many, it is the day of anticipation.  Of rushing to the shopping centers and stores; finding a spot and standing in lines in order to get the best deals for Christmas shopping.

Thanksgiving has a multitude of meanings for the people of the United States.  It signifies so many different ideals and values. It fills the citizens with numerous images and desires.  I have just one request to all who read this:  Remember and help those who are lost, lonely, and desperate.  Think upon the words of Charles Dickens in "A Christmas Carol" concerning Ignorance and Want.  Do not foster hate upon the poor and helpless instead, open hearts and eyes to reality and remember President Lincoln.  Most importantly, Thanksgiving a day of thanks for the blessings and the challenges we receive every day.

A day in the life of a Floridan in Traffic

A song from the 1970s revamped for my day in traffic.


Ahem,

Michganites to the left of me
Ohioans to the right
Here I am,
Stuck in the middle behind a Canuck.

Yes, I'm
Stuck in the middle behind a Canuck
And I
Don't know why we're going 25.
The speed limit is 50
but we're going 25
and I'm
Stuck in the middle behind a Canuck

We're going down SR 54.
Have to
Come to a complete stop.
The Canuck wants to change lanes
And we are at a dead stop.

New Yorkers to the left of me
Wisconsonites to my right
Here I am
Stuck in the middle behind a Canuck.

Why do they have to come to Florida?
We have too much traffic as it is.
The Canuck is finally moving over
and I am getting ready to move on ahead.

Vermonters to the left of me
Illi to the right
Here I am
Stuck in the middle behind a Canuck.

Wow, I am on my way,
Here I am up to 45
There's an old fart coming out of Walmart
and they pull right out in front of me.

Michiganites to the left of me,
Ohioans to the right.
Here I am stuck behind another Canuck.

Yes, I'm
Stuck behind another Canuck...
Here I am
Stuck behind another Canuck.....

With Love and gratitude to Stealers Wheel!

Love this song....A day in the life of a Floridian in traffic!

Wandering the Paths of Silvanus

Wandering the Paths of Silvanus

Yvonne C Parizo

Wandering along a carpet of green, I stop; close my eyes, and feeling the breeze brush against my face; I allow myself to drift off into the past…a past which was filled with wandering the paths of Silvanus, the Roman god of woods – protector of forests. Time seems to stop as a scent reaches me and I find myself racing after my big brother, Ivan, who is going through the fields of our farm rounding up the dairy cows in order to bring them back to the barn for milking. Ahead of him is our shepherd, Lady, who searches amongst the trees and brush of this one path; barking and nipping at the cows as they chew their cud and heave themselves up for the journey to the barn. The sweet aroma of spearmint wafts through the field and I leave behind my brother to find the wild patch it comes from....Abruptly, I am pulled back to the present and find myself sniffing the air only to find that a fellow wanderer has passed by me, obviously chewing spearmint gum; leaving a scented trail behind him. I smile to myself as I stroll along the path at the Key Vista Nature Park, by Anclote; and I reflect on the memory which had overtaken me. I press my walking stick into the ground using it as a cane as I continue on my hike. My walking stick is a branch from a tree which I have cured into a good hiking pole and I lean on it from time to time when the trail becomes too harsh for my arthritic knees to handle.

Yet, even it reminds me of the past when I was a child and lived on my parents’ dairy farm. Our farm was located in Central New York, surrounded by state land which kept the forests and creeks in their wild and natural ways. The farmhouse still stands today and is lived in, but the barns are gone, and the fields have become overgrown with bushes and trees as the wilderness claims its land back from humanity. While continuing my hike of today I think that I must have been a strange child; for I spent my

time either reading or exploring the woods and fields around our farm. I was extremely shy and had always been very sickly which led me to spend my time in nature rather than around other people. It was and still is the place I return to in order to find peace, meditation, and comfort.

Even as I ruminate on this thought, the woods of this Floridian nature preserve draw me in and I am reminded of a line by Henry David Thoreau: " When I would recreate myself, I seek the darkest woods the thickest and most interminable and, to the citizen, most dismal, swamp. I enter a swamp as a sacred place,-- a sanctum sanctorum. There is the strength, the marrow, of Nature” (Kindle location 5741-5743). Yes, Thoreau was right! It is the deepest and darkest areas of the woods within a swamp which becomes a sanctuary! Well, maybe not so much the swamp for me; but at least into an area of woods which does not divulge the presence of humans easily. No matter, Henry was attuned to the same tempo of nature that I am and I agree with his thoughts on walking as he did; for I was raised with the knowledge of respecting nature and listening to its many voices.

After all, when one is raised by state land, it is just a matter of common sense to understand the workings of a compass. Furthermore, I know that I am able to “feel” the subtle changes in the feel of the air or a scent. I understand that nature or “Gaia”, as mother earth was known to the Greeks, gives her inhabitants the ability to discern her hints if only they would pay attention and learn from her. There is a certain feel and sharpness to the air just before a change in weather occurs. Just as there is an odor which corresponds with the inception of low tide! Most people recognize the honking of geese as they fly in their v form heading southward that winter is approaching. Many in Florida listen with delight as the red-breasted robin twitters and chirps in the trees in March that spring has arrived and these precious emissaries of Nature are delivering this news whilst on their flight back to the northern states.

Although, Florida is a different from New York as blackberries are from blueberries; there is a common distinction between them…Nature is still the same. Whether it be blizzards coming off the

Finger and Great Lakes or a hurricane coming in from the Gulf, “Gaia”, demonstrates her power over humanity. This small preserve I am hiking through has over the years shown the evidence of her mighty strength. Trees have been upheaved, walkways have been flooded, and boardwalks have been ripped apart. Yet, it is a part of the cycle in nature which brings about birth, life, and death which in turns creates a rebirth of life. Even in this act of power by Nature, there is a beauty which awes humans for it is not just destruction which is shown but life and purpose by the way this power is displayed. I remember Ralph Waldo Emerson writing: “Therefore does beauty, which, in relation to actions, as we have seen, comes unsought, and comes because it is unsought, remain for the apprehension and pursuit of the intellect; and then again, in its turn, of the active power. Nothing divine dies. All good is eternally reproductive. The beauty of nature reforms itself in the mind, and not for barren contemplation, but for new creation” (Kindle Location 167-170). As I look around me, I agree, for the wilderness around me is beautiful in ways which humans find hard to comprehend at time. For some individuals and corporations are only interested in the land and the resources it holds. They see only the money which can be made and not the life or beauty which surrounds them.

I step out of the woods to find myself facing the west and the constantly undulating swelling of the Gulf’s waters on the beach of the park which has been preserved in its natural state. “How many people”, I wonder, ”have actually seen a beach in its natural state? How many beaches are there which are still in this form? Could this be how Ponce de Leon first saw the Florida shoreline?” So many thoughts and questions fill my mind as I look out at the sea and then peace for the movement of the water relaxes me and I find the stress has been removed; just by watching the gulf. “Thoreau was definitely right” I think, “when he stated: ‘No wealth can buy the requisite leisure, freedom, and independence which are the capital in this profession. It comes only by the grace of God. It requires a direct dispensation from Heaven to become a walker’” (Kindle Locations 5488-5490). I agree whole heartedly with him.

Being a walker is incredibly special and the freedom and leisure one finds is wonderful and with that I clamber down the small incline and saunter along the beach.

It is amazing what one can find on a beach. It is here where you can find visible signs of all types of life. Tiny crabs race across the sand, carrying bits and pieces of items they wanted back to their little homes in the sand. The footprints of raccoons crisscross one another showing where the mammals left the woods and went to the water and back again into the woods. Terns, gulls, sandpipers, eagles, hawks, pelicans, and other birds are seen flying overhead, nesting, or running across the sand. The slithering print of a snake is easily recognized along with the trail of lizards. Squirrels and other mammals have ventured out onto the beach and back into the woods again. In the sea, fish jump, dolphins leap out and play, and a starfish is found left on the shore by the receding water.

For some people, Nature is boring, lonely, and void of companions; but they are wrong for this beach is loaded with the signs of life. Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings lived not very far away and in her book, Cross Creek, she penned:

“Folk call the road lonely, because there is not human traffic and human stirring. Because I have walked it so many times and seen such a tumult of life there, it seems to me one of the most populous highways of my acquaintance. I have walked it in ecstasy, and in joy it is beloved. Every pine tree, every gallberry bush, every passion vine, every joree rustling in the underbrush, is vibrant” (14).

Indeed, this place is filled with life and not just wildlife either! The prints of humans and their dogs are left behind as well. This gives a walker the chance to imagine who had been here before, what dog was with them, why did they come, and where are they going now. It is a time of reflection about one’s own journey to this sanctuary and as the sun dips down to the horizon and sinks into it, the vibrant reds, pinks, and oranges slash across the vivid blue of the sky and paint a picture of God’s grace, love, and wisdom in its place. As this wondrous display fades into the ebony darkness of space, a different one is revealed and the stars shine brightly across the

heavens lead by the brilliance of Venus and Jupiter in the western sky. Orion begins his downward trek to the horizon followed by his dogs.

I turn and walk back into the arms of Silvanus who leads me through his paths back to where my car sat waiting to take me back into the realm of civilization. I reach my car, but stand there beside it, gazing back into the woods. My favorite writer of all time is whispering in my ear and I hear him entwine two of my favorite pieces of work by him:

“The woods are lovely dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep.

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to before I sleep.

For two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Really, I must have been a strange child….I loved walking in the woods with no one but my dog…I still do…

Works Cited

Emerson, Ralph Waldo (2011-03-24). Nature (Kindle Locations 167-170). Kindle Edition.

Frost, Robert. “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening” and “The Road Not Taken”.

www.poemhunter.com.

Rawlings, Marjorie Kinnan. Cross Creek. New York. Simon and Schuster. 1996.

Thoreau, Henry David (2009-05-26). The Works of Henry David Thoreau (with active table of

contents) (Kindle Locations 5741-5743). Douglas Editions. Kindle Edition.

The Advertising Images of Women

The Advertising Images of Women

Yvonne C. Parizo

December 7, 2011

Commercials and advertisements capture our attention and give us jingles we love to sing or scenes we laugh about. They also condition us in how we view others, especially women. The inculcation toward the roles and purpose of women is dangerous, violent, and destructive to women. Yet, not every ad was detrimental to women. There are a few which promote equality, strength of character, and an overall view of dignity and education. However, it is the negative view which is a constant in the advertising world toward women.

How many times have we seen advertisements showing the nearly naked body of a young woman promenaded in front of us to contemplate? She is always young, beautiful, perfect hair, and skin; which we see plenty of. She wears spike heels and not much else. At times she lies across a bed. Other times, she stands defiantly with her legs spread apart, a smirk crosses her face. This is the image of the sexual animal. According to the advertisements, women are and should be in the bedroom and for the benefit of men. They are an animal which needs to be tamed and trained to obey. Men look at this image and believe they have every right to expect their sexual desires to be fulfilled by the women in their lives.

This is an advertisement for a sports magazine. It is a negative look at women, for it looks at the woman’s body not as an athlete, but as a sexual object. Everything about this poster is filled with eroticism from the pose of the woman, to the bed she is lying on, to the thick heavy drapes in the background. This is an ad not for promoting athletes, but for stimulating seduction.

This isn’t the only sports advertisement which uses women this way. There are other

endorsements which use women in the same way. The difference, the one I am going to discuss, is an ad for an online dating service, but again it reduces women to the role of a sexual object which must be defeated. This time the woman is shown with black stripes under her eyes, her head is thrown back as if in ecstasy. She is wet as if perspiring or having been covered with water. The football is shown sidewise in her hands between her knees which are straddling the front and back of the football. She has wrist bands on her arms. Her breasts are pushing out of her skimpy top. The jargon for this ad? “Who are you doing after the game? Life is short have an affair”. (www.ashleymadison.com) Such a wonderful message to share for after the Super Bowl! It is a definite appeal to throwing away marriage vows and enjoying sexual pleasure. But worse, it treats women as if they are animals and are only needed for sexual gratification. The gratification for men.

One of the most horrific advertisements I have looked at, is the one on the cover of this paper. It is a MTV ad and its imagery is disturbing. The background is completely dark; the naked body of a young woman is seated. We do not see her head and her left hand lies spread across her upper abdomen. Her legs are wide open. In front of her we see the hand of a man. He is holding a pistol which is aimed directly at her crotch. That is all we see of the man. He is faceless and bodiless. He is one of the many or of the unknown who are being heralded in this advertisement. His victim is in front of him and at his mercy. She is his enemy and it is her gender which angers him. The pistol is symbolic of two items; a phallic symbol and a representation of violence. Pointing at the young woman’s sexual organs, the weapon is a reminder of strength and authority. Its purpose is to inform both men and

women as to who has the power and that it will be maintained and protected by the male. Women are being taught that they are weaker and must submit to the male or be punished or killed. It is a frightening photo where fear, submission, hate, and anger are illustrated with only three objects. Yet, the photo shows the fear and anger of young men toward defenseless young women. She is totally exposed – vulnerable to his attack. He is afraid of her. By using a pistol, he displays his fear of being lowered in status. His role is not that of protector, but of aggressor and his anger comes from his own feelings of worthlessness and insecurity. He must use a weapon to control her and threaten her. This MTV campaign is scary for it advocates the forceful and violent control over women.

Although, there are advertisements which look at women with respect, equality, and dignity, there are many more which are negative. These negative ads create a campaign of violence, hatred, fear, and aggression toward women. They are filled with sexual innuendos and a celebration of male aggression over submissive and animalistic females. The advertisements position women to the role of conquest and must be violently controlled. They are beneath men and are subject to men’s demands. It isn’t a realistic look at women or men; but the terrifying aspects of them are that they could and can become realistic. Especially to the young who look at these photos as if they are a glamorous or credible view of the roles of men and women. Therefore, advertisements and commercials are ways which the young are acclimated into the various views on the social positions of men and women.

Work Cited

www.ashleymadison.com.

http://bleacherreport.com/articles/808416-50-hottest-petite-women-in-sports. 2011.

www.mtv.com. 2011.

The Wonders of Childhood

This is my 125th post.  It should be something special, or maybe controversial.  Nah!  I'm not in the mood for that.  Too many items to write about and which one would I want to pick.  Instead, I want to relax, listen to some jazz, and talk.  That's right, talk.  Okay, and maybe tell a story.  I like stories and I love to tell them as well as hear them.  So here we start:

I know it's Christmas music, but it is nice and relaxing.  That's what this is all about being content, relaxed and enjoying the moment.  After all, how many times do we just do this with our family and friends?  Oh sure, we get together, but do we really listen to one another or go through the motions?  How often do we have our minds on other things?  Oh yes.  Sometimes we do and are really a part of the activities and then there are times when we are off in another world, our minds drifting through memories which we long to return to.  

Kind of like mine is right now.  Everyone around me is going on with their daily work.  me, I'm sitting here, typing away, thinking about all sorts of things.  A lot of my memories are from childhood.  Living on the farm, following my brother and sister everywhere, "helping" milk the cows, playing in hay mounds, pestering mom when she is busy in the kitchen, and tramping with dad through the fields.  Then there are the memories of young adulthood.  The stupid things I did, living in New York City, moving to Florida, meeting my soul mate, our wedding, the birth of our beautiful daughter.  So many wondrous events and joys flow through.  Oh yeah, there were a lot of negatives and difficulties, but life isn't suppose to be easy.  It's how we handle and go through the stresses and learn from them which is life.  For instance:

When I was a child, I loved to spend time with Gramp and Gram Peak.  Their home was always filled with fun things to do, all sorts of toys, and this really cool Bible.  It was huge!  It had a fancy cover and a latch which hooked it closed.  Inside were pictures of Bible stories, and in between the pages were flowers laid between wax paper and pressed by the weight of the Bible.  Then there was the page full of names.  My great grandparents: Marcia and Claude Smith began the list, down through four generations to me, the youngest great grandchild.  It was fascinating.  I spent hours looking through that Bible.  The only admonishment I would get from Gram was:  "Don't tear the pages, Vonnie"!  I would make sure I didn't, otherwise I knew I wouldn't be able to look through it again.  

Yes, the huge Bible was wonderful to look through, but then there was this humongous radio nearby!  This radio was taller than me at the time and was huge.  It had all sorts of dials and buttons to push and play with.  Now, it didn't work, and I really do not know why they kept it, but for me, that radio became a space ship. I was already into science fiction and being an astronaut at a very young age.  My imagination was full of adventures to be had and the radio was my means of accomplishing these.  I contacted base control with it, blasted off into space, fought evil aliens with just a push of a button.  Oh yeah!  I was a hero!  Full of courage and never hurt or sick.  The brave fighter of evil!  How I miss that broken radio!  So much fun and an imagination which never quit!  My grandparents would be sitting in their chairs in the entry living room entertaining friends and gossiping over juicy tidbits of the neighborhood.  Me, I would be hurtling through space in the tv room with that wonderful radio (space ship, communicator, weapons control, etc), defending the Earth or where ever I was from those nasty aliens who wanted to destroy humanity!  I was the original Buzz Lightyear!  

Oh yeah!  I loved being with Gramp and Gram.  So much fun and pie for lunch.  Everyday.  Miss you Gramp and Gram!  Love you so much and I wish I could have just one hour with you again....Someday, but for now...it's time to live and celebrate life.  Enjoy the music and the memory.  Godspeed!

Let the Truth Come Forth

Sometimes things occur in our lives which we wonder why?  What is the purpose of what has happened?  We strive to understand, but don't.  Then as time passes, things begin to fall into place and finally we comprehend.  We reason the implications of past actions and attribute these rationalizations as a means to an end.  Yet, the truth is, incidents occur due to our own activities.  The lack of foresight on our part contributes to this.  We fail to do what is right, due to our own inattentiveness.  We have our minds on thousands of items which need our attention.  This in turn leads to misunderstandings, forgetfulness, or just plain doing something "stupid".  Illnesses occurs and we lay blame on all sorts of outside events....but let's face it, sometimes we just get sick, due to bacteria or viruses.  Sometimes we just can't do everything, but this is based upon each individual.

When events occur to a town, city, state, or country, it becomes something else.  It becomes history.  Yeah, kind of a different way of thinking I know, but it is history.  Think about the Great Wall Street Collapse of 1929.  That event transpired due to the actions of many individuals.  The taking out of loans, defaults on loans, not enough pay to workers, the beginnings of credit use, greed from investors for more profit, and numerous other happenings which are the result of natural disasters.  Sound familiar?  Sort of sounds like today doesn't it?

How about any other historical event?  Same thing.  Individuals create situations which then expand and assimilate others who are experiencing similar circumstances.  They join together and metamorphosis into a movement which flows through societies and cultures as a means of challenging the constrictions the individuals made.  Look at the Know Nothing Party of US history during the 1850s, the Communist Party of Russia in the 1910s, the Nazi Party of Germany in the 1930s, and even today's Tea Party of the US.  Even the American Revolution was a transformation of ideals and beliefs from individuals who went from being English colonists to American frontiersmen.

To me, this is what history and historical events are.  It is the construction of independent ordeals or ventures which are mutated into a complex writhing of parallels and similarities which we like to call coincidences and synchronism.  Yeah, I know, who cares?  Well, I care.  You see, I have been doing a lot of reading lately and for some reason it seems as though my readings have pertained to events or people whose roles in history have been hidden or entombed in a web of lies or burial of truth due to society's stigmata on certain roles.

For instance, when did you learn of the role of women in World War I and II?  When did you find out that there were women pows in both wars? Or that they died serving their country?  How did you feel when you found out that women fought in the American Revolution and Civil War?  Or how about discovering that the Nazis killed homosexuals, Gypsies, mentally slow / Down Syndrome individuals and many more in the concentration camps?  Or that the Nazis slew an approximate total of 50 million Russians?  When did you learn that the Japanese experimented on and murdered millions of Chinese and Koreans during World War II?  Did you know that the Confederates during the US Civil War actually attacked St. Albans, Vermont?  Or that they really did try to stage a rebellion in New York City?

So why were all of these hidden?  Why were we not taught all of these events in our history classes?  That is something you really need to think about and ask.  Too often the answer is that we didn't really care about the individuals or groups to which these horrific actions were taken against.  That is not we as individuals, but we as a society.  Certain events like the roles women played in wars or even in daily life had been minimized due to the "desire" of others to control the significance of women as citizens.  This is true of all minority groups.  By downgrading the realities of minority groups, society is able to control the position of these people.  Think about it.  Do we not still try to place disadvantages or the removal of rights toward the LGBT community just because some deem this group of people as being different (instead of using the disgusting words which some call this group)?  Yes, we do. At this time, the LGBT community are fighting for their rights....the simple rights to be treated as citizens of the US which include the right to marry.

I could go on and on about this subject, but i have to get back to my own research.  I hope you will think about this and maybe do some research on your own....Oh yeah, Tea Party, you don't have to worry about the idea of a gay president....We've already had one.....Thank you President James Buchanan....For opening a door....Now, it's time to uncover the hidden and let the truth come forth....

Native Americans have many wonderful tales to share with us.  This is just one of them.

How Indian Corn Came Into the World by Henry R. Schoolcraft (adapted) An Ojibbeway Legend Long, long ago, in a beautiful part of this country, there lived an Indian with his wife and children. He was poor and found it hard to provide food enough for his family. But though needy he was kind and contented, and always gave thanks to the Great Spirit for everything that he received. His eldest son, Wunzh, was likewise kind and gentle and thankful of heart, and he longed greatly to do something for his people. The time came that Wunzh reached the age when every Indian boy fasts so that he may see in a vision the Spirit that is to be his guide through life. Wunph's father built him a little lodge apart, so that the boy might rest there undisturbed during his days of fasting. Then Wunzh withdrew to begin the solemn rite. On the first day he walked alone in the woods looking at the flowers and plants, and filling his mind with the beautiful images of growing things so that he might see them in his night-dreams. He saw how the flowers and herbs and berries grew, and he knew that some were good for food, and that others healed wounds and cured sickness. And his heart was filled with even a greater longing to do something for his family and his tribe. "Truly," thought he, "the Great Spirit made all things. To Him we owe our lives. But could He not make it easier for us to get our food than by hunting and catching fish? I must try to find this out in my vision." So Wunzh returned to his lodge and fasted and slept. On the third day he became weak and faint. Soon he saw in a vision a young brave coming down from the sky and approaching the lodge. He was clad in rich garments of green and yellow colors. On his head was a tuft of nodding green plumes, and all his motions were graceful and swaying. "I am sent to you, O Wunzh," said the sky- stranger, "by that Great Spirit who made all things in sky and earth. He has seen your fasting, and knows how you wish to do good to your people, and that you do not seek for strength in war nor for the praise of warriors. I am sent to tell you how you may do good to your kindred. Arise and wrestle with me, for only by overcoming me may you learn the secret." Wunzh, though he was weak from fasting, felt courage grow in his heart, and he arose and wrestled with the stranger. But soon he became weaker and exhausted, and the stranger, seeing this, smiled gently on him and said: "My friend, this is enough for once, I will come again tomorrow." And he vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. The next day the stranger came, and Wunzh felt himself weaker than before; nevertheless he rose and wrestled bravely. Then the stranger spoke a second time. "My friend," he said, "have courage! Tomorrow will be your last trial." And he disappeared from Wunzh's sight. On the third day the stranger came as before, and the struggle was renewed. And Wunzh, though fainter in body, grew strong in mind and will, and he determined to win or perish in the attempt. He exerted all his powers, and, lo! in a while, he prevailed and overcame the stranger. "O Wunzh, my friend," said the conquered one, "you have wrestled manfully. You have met your trial well. To-morrow I shall come again and you must wrestle with me for the last time. You will prevail. Do you then strip off my garments, throw me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, and bury me in that spot. When you have done so, leave my body in the ground. Come often to the place and see whether I have come to life, but be careful not to let weeds or grass grow on my grave. If you do all this well, you will soon discover how to benefit your fellow creatures." Having said this the stranger disappeared. In the morning Wunzh's father came to him with food. "My son," he said, "you have fasted long. It is seven days since you have tasted food, and you must not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not require that." "My father," replied the boy, "wait until the sun goes down to-morrow. For a certain reason I wish to fast until that hour." "Very well," said the old man, "I shall wait until the time arrives when you feel inclined to eat." And he went away. The next day, at the usual hour, the sky stranger came again. And, though Wunzh had fasted seven days, he felt a new power arise within him. He grasped the stranger with superhuman strength, and threw him down. He took from him his beautiful garments, and, finding him dead, buried him in the softened earth, and did all else as he had been directed. He then returned to his father's lodge, and partook sparingly of food. There he abode for some time. But he never forgot the grave of his friend. Daily he visited it, and pulled up the weeds and grass, and kept the earth soft and moist. Very soon, to his great wonder, he saw the tops of green plumes coming through the ground. Weeks passed by, the summer was drawing to a close. One day Wunzh asked his father to follow him. He led him to a distant meadow. There, in the place where the stranger had been buried, stood a tall and graceful plant, with bright- colored, silken hair, and crowned by nodding green plumes. Its stalk was covered with waving leaves, and there grew from its sides clusters of milk-filled ears of corn, golden and sweet, each ear closely wrapped in its green husks. "It is my friend!" shouted the boy joyously; "it is Mondawmin, the Indian Corn! We need no longer depend on hunting, so long as this gift is planted and cared for. The Great Spirit has heard my voice and has sent us this food." Then the whole family feasted on the ears of corn and thanked the Great Spirit who gave it. So Indian Corn came into the world. http://www.apples4theteacher.com/holidays/thanksgiving/short-stories/how-indian-corn-came-into-the-world.html

Navigating By the Stars to Safety......Happy Veteran's Day

The convoy rolled to a stop forcing those in the rear to wonder and question what was going on.  The orders were clear, move quietly from one position to another.   The men were told to fallout and rest off of the road.  Guards were set up on either side of the convoy and in the front and back of it.  The lieutenant in charge of this unit pulled the map from his pocket and hidden by his aides, tried to find out where they were.   "Damn! I have no idea where we are."  the lieutenant mumbled to himself.  He stared at the map retracing where they had come from and where they were suppose to go.
"We made this turn right", the Sergeant offered.
The lieutenant answered, "Yes, but somehow we must have missed this one here.  I don't remember seeing it.   We've gone to far now to turn back."
"What's this place here, Lieutenant"?, the sergeant asked.
"That is where the Nazis are and we aren't suppose to be anywhere near it.  Damn!  I wish I could figure out where we are."  The Lieutenant swore with a worried tone.

The men in charge looked over the map and the place where they were stopped.  Nothing matched where they were suppose to be.  The other members of the convoy were beginning to get restless.  The longer they sat here not moving, the better the chances of the enemy finding them.  Rumors started flowing through the men that they were lost, that the Nazis were just around the next bend, that a mine field had been detected ahead.  The men began shifting around trying to find out what was going on.

Finally, a messenger came to every man in the convoy.  "The lieutenant needs to know if anyone can find ---------", the French village they needed to be at by morning.  Each man answered back, "no".  The private spoke to all until he finally came to the medical unit which was well protected in the middle of the convoy.  Again, he repeated his message from the lieutenant, to the doctor who was checking the medical supplies again.  The doctor looked at him, then at the night sky out of the back of the truck.  He moved back out of the truck he had been in and checked the sky again.  "I can help", the doctor replied.  The private nodded and gave the doctor a look of relief.

"Please come with me to the front and speak to the lieutenant".  The private led the way back to where the lieutenant and his aides were still pouring over the map, as if trying to receive divine intervention from it.  The doctor grabbed his jacket, pulling it on as he followed the private forward.  Along the way, men whispered, wondering if this would be their last moment before a battle.  The two men walked quickly, weaving through the vehicles and men until they finally reached the front.

"Lieutenant", said the doctor, "Do you need some help?".
The lieutenant looked up.  "Doctor, can you read this map and figure out where we are?"
The doctor took the map, gazed at it for a few minutes, then looked at the night sky.  "We can turn at this path and move easterly here".  He said.  "We can reach the command center before morning if we move now."  The lieutenant frowned, "How do you know that"?
"We have been moving in a south easterly direction for a while now.  By turning here, we will be going in an easterly direction which will bring us back to the correct road and on target.  Just keep an eye on the stars and you will be able to follow them in order to find our way there".
The lieutenant smiled.  "The stars, navigating by them the way the ancients did.  Please ride with me, and teach me how to do that so this will never happen again."
The doctor nodded and told the private, "tell my driver I am riding up here".

The two men got into the jeep,the lieutenant giving the signal to fall in and start moving.  The convoy pulled out and followed the directions given by the doctor.    He watched the stars, teaching the young lieutenant the way to navigate by them.  Before the sun rose, the convoy rolled into the French town of ----------, at an earlier time than they had been expected.  A major came out from the command center.  When he saw the jeep with the lieutenant and doctor in it, he waved it down;  "Great job, lieutenant, getting here at this pace.  Set up your personnel over there, put the medical team in this building there, we have confiscated it from the Nazis.  It should be perfect for a hospital".
The lieutenant saluted and nodded, "Yes, Sir!  But the only reason we are here this soon is to the doctor here.  We were lost, but he showed us the way by following the stars".
The major, shot a look at the lieutenant, and then stepped in front of the doctor.  "Good job, Doctor!  Wish we had more men like you!"  Now let's get this camp up to par and ready for the show to begin."

Off they went.  Each in their own direction, preparing for another battle, where men would die, and others would require medical care, and still others would live to fight another day.  They were there to end the Nazi reign.  A reign of terror.  They were there to protect their countries or win them back.  They were there to serve and win this fight.  This group made it due to a doctor who knew how to read the stars and get them to a safe place. To fight a different day.  To live another day.  To serve and end terror.  Happy Veteran's Day.
By the way this is a true story....