Let's Go Fly A Kite - Mary Poppins (David Tomlinson)

Go Fly A Kite!

Another Sunday has dawned upon us (well, about 6 hours ago) and the sky is a luminous blue full of sunlight brightening the day.  A chilly wind blusters through destroying the sky's illusion of a warm day.  Yet, the sun draws one to venture out and enjoy a blustery day.  This is a day filled with visions of flying kites; watching the brilliant colors of the toy as it swoops, weaves, and soars in drafts reminiscent of the hawk it resembles.

The sky fills with these wondrous expressions of flight as people move from indoors to out, enjoying time with nature and one another.  The joy of seeing children's faces, as they race across the beach with their kites, is transforming for who could remain stressed or down at watching them let the wind catch the kites and lift into the air.  Eyes are transfixed onto the lightweight frames with their colourful material stretched across them.  Will they stay aloft?  Or will they come crashing down like Charlie Brown's does?  This day, they remain overhead caught in the tempest of air gusting from the sea to the land.

Ah, the mystery of flight and the desire to fly becomes overwhelming as one watches these human made birds.  The ability to dive, soar, and be free of the burden of gravity is tantalizing and wants to be fulfilled.  Dreams of hang gliding soon fill the mind and the send it into the wind as well, the rush and freedom of flight.  Then suddenly, reality drops the vision and once more I am chained to the ground by the restraints of society.

To hell with society and its uncompromising attitudes toward conformity!  I am going to make a kite and go fly!  It's a beautiful blustery day to go fly a kite and be free!

The Monkey's Paw

This is one of the creepiest short stories I have ever read and I still read it every so often for it reminds me to be content with what 

The Monkey's Paw

by W. W. Jacobs

---

"Be careful what you wish for, you may receive it." --Anonymous

Part I

Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnum villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess; the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical chances, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.

"Hark at the wind," said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it.

"I'm listening," said the latter grimly surveying the board as he stretched out his hand. "Check."

"I should hardly think that he's come tonight, " said his father, with his hand poised over the board.

"Mate," replied the son.

"That's the worst of living so far out," balled Mr. White with sudden and unlooked-for violence; "Of all the beastly, slushy, out of the way places to live in, this is the worst. Path's a bog, and the road's a torrent. I don't know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses in the road are let, they think it doesn't matter."

"Never mind, dear," said his wife soothingly; "perhaps you'll win the next one."

Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between mother and son. the words died away on his lips, and he hid a guilty grin in his thin grey beard.

"There he is," said Herbert White as the gate banged to loudly and heavy footsteps came toward the door.

The old man rose with hospitable haste and opening the door, was heard condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with himself, so that Mrs. White said, "Tut, tut!" and coughed gently as her husband entered the room followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage.

"Sargeant-Major Morris, " he said, introducing him.

The Sargeant-Major took hands and taking the proffered seat by the fire, watched contentedly as his host got out whiskey and tumblers and stood a small copper kettle on the fire.

At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of wild scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange peoples.

"Twenty-one years of it," said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. "When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look at him."

"He don't look to have taken much harm." said Mrs. White politely.

"I'd like to go to India myself," said the old man, just to look around a bit, you know."

"Better where you are," said the Sargeant-Major, shaking his head. He put down the empty glass and sighning softly, shook it again.

"I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers," said the old man. "what was that that you started telling me the other day about a monkey's paw or something, Morris?"

"Nothing." said the soldier hastily. "Leastways, nothing worth hearing."

"Monkey's paw?" said Mrs. White curiously.

"Well, it's just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps." said the Sargeant-Major off-handedly.

His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host filled it for him again.

"To look at," said the Sargeant-Major, fumbling in his pocket, "it's just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy."

He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.

"And what is there special about it?" inquired Mr. White as he took it from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table.

"It had a spell put on it by an old Fakir," said the Sargeant-Major, "a very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people's lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it."

His manners were so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their light laughter had jarred somewhat.

"Well, why don't you have three, sir?" said Herbert White cleverly.

The soldier regarded him the way that middle age is wont to regard presumptuous youth."I have," he said quietly, and his blotchy face whitened.

"And did you really have the three wishes granted?" asked Mrs. White.

"I did," said the seargent-major, and his glass tapped against his strong teeth.

"And has anybody else wished?" persisted the old lady.

"The first man had his three wishes. Yes, " was the reply, "I don't know what the first two were, but the third was for death. That's how I got the paw."

His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.

"If you've had your three wishes it's no good to you now then Morris," said the old man at last. "What do you keep it for?"

The soldier shook his head. "Fancy I suppose," he said slowly." I did have some idea of selling it, but I don't think I will. It has caused me enough mischief already. Besides, people won't buy. They think it's a fairy tale, some of them; and those who do think anything of it want to try it first and pay me afterward."

"If you could have another three wishes," said the old man, eyeing him keenly," would you have them?"

"I don't know," said the other. "I don't know."

He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down and snatched it off.

"Better let it burn," said the soldier solemnly.

"If you don't want it Morris," said the other, "give it to me."

"I won't." said his friend doggedly. "I threw it on the fire. If you keep it, don't blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire like a sensible man."

The other shook his head and examined his possession closely. "How do you do it?" he inquired.

"Hold it up in your right hand, and wish aloud," said the Sargeant-Major, "But I warn you of the consequences."

"Sounds like the 'Arabian Nights'", said Mrs. White, as she rose and began to set the supper. "Don't you think you might wish for four pairs of hands for me."

Her husband drew the talisman from his pocket, and all three burst into laughter as the Seargent-Major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught him by the arm.

"If you must wish," he said gruffly, "Wish for something sensible."

Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was partly forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion to a second installment of the soldier's adventures in India.

"If the tale about the monkey's paw is not more truthful than those he has been telling us," said Herbert, as the door closed behind their guest, just in time to catch the last train, "we shan't make much out of it."

"Did you give anything for it, father?" inquired Mrs. White, regarding her husband closely.

"A trifle," said he, colouring slightly, "He didn't want it, but I made him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away."

"Likely," said Herbert, with pretended horror. "Why, we're going to be rich, and famous, and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin with; then you can't be henpecked."

He darted around the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs White armed with an antimacassar.

Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. "I don't know what to wish for, and that's a fact," he said slowly. It seems to me I've got all I want."

"If you only cleared the house, you'd be quite happy, wouldn't you!" said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. "Well, wish for two hundred pounds, then; that'll just do it."

His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the talisman, as his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at his mother, sat down and struck a few impressive chords.

"I wish for two hundred pounds," said the old man distinctly.

A fine crash from the piano greeted his words, interrupted by a shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him.

"It moved," he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on the floor. "As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake."

"Well, I don't see the money," said his son, as he picked it up and placed it on the table, "and I bet I never shall."

"It must have been your fancy, father," said his wife, regarding him anxiously.

He shook his head. "Never mind, though; there's no harm done, but it gave me a shock all the same."

They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes. Outside, the wind was higher than ever, an the old man started nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and depressing settled on all three, which lasted until the old couple rose to retire for the rest of the night.

"I expect you'll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your bed," said Herbert, as he bade them good night, " and something horrible squatting on top of your wardrobe watching you as you pocket your ill-gotten gains."

He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces in it. The last was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it in amazement. It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw over it. His hand grasped the monkey's paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed.

Part II

In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty, shriveled little paw was pitched on the side-board with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.

"I suppose all old soldiers are the same," said Mrs White. "The idea of our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?"

"Might drop on his head from the sky," said the frivolous Herbert.

"Morris said the things happened so naturally," said his father, "that you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence."

"Well don't break into the money before I come back," said Herbert as he rose from the table. "I'm afraid it'll turn you into a mean, avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you."

His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense of her husband's credulity. All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to the door at the postman's knock, nor prevent her from referring somewhat shortly to retired Sargeant-Majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought a tailor's bill.

"Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he comes home," she said as they sat at dinner.

"I dare say," said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; "but for all that, the thing moved in my hand; that I'll swear to."

"You thought it did," said the old lady soothingly.

"I say it did," replied the other. "There was no thought about it; I had just - What's the matter?"

His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connexion with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path. Mrs White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.

She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as patiently as her sex would permit for him to broach his business, but he was at first strangely silent.

"I - was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece of cotton from his trousers. "I come from 'Maw and Meggins.' "

The old lady started. "Is anything the matter?" she asked breathlessly. "Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is it?

Her husband interposed. "There there mother," he said hastily. "Sit down, and don't jump to conclusions. You've not brought bad news, I'm sure sir," and eyed the other wistfully.

"I'm sorry - " began the visitor.

"Is he hurt?" demanded the mother wildly.

The visitor bowed in assent."Badly hurt," he said quietly, "but he is not in any pain."

"Oh thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands. "Thank God for that! Thank - "

She broke off as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned on her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the others averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her trembling hand on his. There was a long silence.

"He was caught in the machinery," said the visitor at length in a low voice.

"Caught in the machinery," repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion,"yes."

He sat staring out the window, and taking his wife's hand between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old courting days nearly forty years before.

"He was the only one left to us," he said, turning gently to the visitor. "It is hard."

The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. " The firm wishes me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss," he said, without looking round. "I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and merely obeying orders."

There was no reply; the old woman’s face was white, her eyes staring, and her breath inaudible; on the husband's face was a look such as his friend the sargeant might have carried into his first action.

"I was to say that Maw and Meggins disclaim all responsibility," continued the other. "They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your son's services, they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation."

Mr. White dropped his wife's hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, "How much?"

"Two hundred pounds," was the answer.

Unconscious of his wife's shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor.

Part III

In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried their dead, and came back to the house steeped in shadows and silence. It was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to happen - something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts to bear.

But the days passed, and expectations gave way to resignation - the hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes mis-called apathy. Sometimes they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and their days were long to weariness.

It was a about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the night, stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He raised himself in bed and listened.

"Come back," he said tenderly. "You will be cold."

"It is colder for my son," said the old woman, and wept afresh.

The sounds of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start.

"THE PAW!" she cried wildly. "THE MONKEY'S PAW!"

He started up in alarm. "Where? Where is it? What’s the matter?"

She came stumbling across the room toward him. "I want it," she said quietly. "You've not destroyed it?"

"It's in the parlour, on the bracket," he replied, marveling. "Why?"

She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.

"I only just thought of it," she said hysterically. "Why didn't I think of it before? Why didn't you think of it?"

"Think of what?" he questioned.

"The other two wishes," she replied rapidly. "We've only had one."

"Was not that enough?" he demanded fiercely.

"No," she cried triumphantly; "We'll have one more. Go down and get it quickly, and wish our boy alive again."

The man sat in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs."Good God, you are mad!" he cried aghast. "Get it," she panted; "get it quickly, and wish - Oh my boy, my boy!"

Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. "Get back to bed he said unsteadily. "You don't know what you are saying."

"We had the first wish granted," said the old woman, feverishly; "why not the second?"

"A coincidence," stammered the old man.

"Go get it and wish," cried his wife, quivering with excitement.

The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. "He has been dead ten days, and besides he - I would not tell you else, but - I could only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to see then, how now?"

"Bring him back," cried the old woman, and dragged him towards the door. "Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?"

He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then to the mantlepiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he could escape from the room seized up on him, and he caught his breath as he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his hand.

Even his wife's face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was white and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it. He was afraid of her.

"WISH!" she cried in a strong voice.

"It is foolish and wicked," he faltered.

"WISH!" repeated his wife.

He raised his hand. "I wish my son alive again."

The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked to the window and raised the blind.

He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end, which had burned below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until with a flicker larger than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable sense of relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back back to his bed, and a minute afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically beside him.

Neither spoke, but lat silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle.

At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another; and at the same moment a knock came so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.

The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. A third knock sounded through the house.

"WHAT’S THAT?" cried the old woman, starting up.

"A rat," said the old man in shaking tones - "a rat. It passed me on the stairs."

His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the house.

"It's Herbert!"

She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by the arm, held her tightly.

"What are you going to do?" he whispered hoarsely.

"It's my boy; it's Herbert!" she cried, struggling mechanically. "I forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I must open the door."

"For God's sake don't let it in," cried the old man, trembling.

"You're afraid of your own son," she cried struggling. "Let me go. I'm coming, Herbert; I'm coming."

There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden wrench broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the landing, and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He heard the chain rattle back and the bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the socket. Then the old woman’s voice, strained and panting.

"The bolt," she cried loudly. "Come down. I can't reach it."

But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in search of the paw. If only he could find it before the thing outside got in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated throgh the house, and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife as his wife put it down in the passage against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly back, and at the same moment he found the monkey's paw, and frantically breathed his third and last wish.

The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold wind rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and misery from his wife gave him the courage to run down to her side, and then to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road.

---

The Candy Bar Thief

We were having a discussion about thieves and stealing today, and I found myself thinking back in time to a very valuable lesson I learned when I was 7 years old.  Yeah, another story of my somewhat ridiculous past, but, hey, I like to tell them.  After all, I didn't talk too much when I was young.  Too shy and too low on self-confidence.  Age and college have a way of building one's self-confidence and self-esteem. but enough of that, on to the story!

"Picture this!"  (Okay, so I love Sophia from The Golden Girls)  The year is 1967.  My grandparents' house in the small town of Taylor, NY.  Inside the glassed in porch sits my grandparents, my sister and brother, mom, dad, and me.  My sister suddenly says:  "I want a candy bar.  Yvonne, run over to Cross's and get me one.  Here's a quarter."
Wow!  My big sister wanted me to do this for her!  I was growing up!  7 years old and being able to cross the road and get a candy bar.  Never mind, my family would be watching me the whole time.  After all, just what did a 7 year old in 1967 rural America know?  Not much, if that person was me.  I admit, I was pretty naive!

Anyway, there I go!  Out the door, down the walk.  Look both ways before crossing!  Run across the road and go into the little flower shop which sold sodas and candy bars as well.  Mr. Cross looks at me and in his gruff voice asks, "What do you want, Yvonne?"
Me, rather timidly answers back.  "Dawn wants a candy bar".
He points to where they are and tells me, "Good thing you came over now. I was just closing down the shop."
I nod solemnly and pick out Dawn's candy bar.  "Hurry up and get your bar".
I look at him and think, I guess he wants me to have one too.  So I grab another bar.  I give him the quarter that Dawn had given me to pay for the one bar and leave.  (Yes, candy bars were a cheap then....maybe it was 10 cents.  Whatever, it was cheap)  I thought I was a big shot!  I did that all by myself!  I look both ways, cross the road again, run down the walk, and back onto the porch.  I hand Dawn her candy bar and then go sit on the couch behind everybody to enjoy my delicious Milky Way bar.  (I love Milky Way bars.  All that gooey caramel and chocolate...mmmmmm.  I'm making myself hungry for one. )

Well, I'm just about halfway done with that bar, when Dawn looks over at me and asks what I'm eating.  Of course I reply "A Milky Way".
 Mom asks, "Where did you get it?"
"At Cross'", I mumble, my mouth full of gooey goodness.
"How did you pay for it?"  Dawn asks.  "I only gave you enough money for one bar".
"He told me to get the bar".
Gramp looks over and says, "He told you to get Dawn's bar.  Not one for you."
I stop eating.  They are all looking at me.  "You stole it?" Ivan asks.
"I didn't steal it.  He told me to get it."
"You didn't pay for it!  You're in trouble!" Ivan shouts.
The others start in telling Ivan to hush and Dawn to be quiet.  My two older siblings were enjoying the idea that I had stolen something.  By this time, I was a mess.  I was crying, carrying on about how I wasn't a thief, but deep down inside, I knew.  I had stolen it.  I was sick, scared to death, and afraid I was going to go to jail.
"Tomorrow, young lady, you will go over there and pay him for the candy bar."  My dad said and that was the end of the conversation.

But it wasn't the end for me.  I was terrified.  No sleep for me that night or at least not much. Nightmares plagued my night.  Fear ran rampant through me.  I was a thief!  I had lost my family's respect.  Maybe they didn't love me anymore.  It was horrible.  (Still affects me to this day!)  It was a very long and scary night.  Then finally it was over.  I couldn't eat breakfast, my stomach was a mess.  I was literally shaking.  I got down my little bear bank and dug out the amount needed.  Now remember I was 7 and that was a lot of money for a kid my age.  Mom and I got in the car and we drove to Gramp and Gram's house.  Mom parked and looked over at me.  "Come on, Vonnie.  Let's go."
I slowly opened the door of the car and climbed out.  Mom was waiting for me.  I moved as if in a trance haltingly toward her.  She took my hand and we walked over to Cross'.  I dragged my feet, not wanting to go to jail, for I knew that's where I was headed.  In we went.  There behind the counter stood Mr. and Mrs. Cross!  I looked frantically for a place to hide.  Mom led me right up to them.  "Tell them what you did, Yvonne".
I looked up at her and she nodded her head.  I glanced at them and very shamefully told them:  "I took another candy bar when I was here last night.  I didn't just get one for Dawn.  I took one for me too.  I'm sorry!  I'll never do it again!  Please don't send me to jail!  I have the money for it right here!"
I offered up the coin to them with a shaking hand.

Mr. Cross reached over and took the coin.  Mrs. Cross came around the counter and knelt down beside me.  "That was a wrong thing to do, but coming here and admitting that you did it was a good thing.  We would never have trusted you again, but now we will.  Don't ever steal anything again.  After all, was that candy bar any good from stealing it?

I thought about what she said and then answered truthfully, "No, Ma'am.  I was sick as all get out and I don't want to feel that way again!"

Both of them smiled and talked to my mom for a moment.  Then mom and I walked back over to Gramp and Gram's.  Gramp was waiting for us.  "Well"?  He asked.
"All's good" Mom answered.
"Good.  Now Vonnie go get up in the truck.  You're coming with me today".
Mom smiled and waved good bye as she went into the house to see Gram.
Me, I jumped up and into Gramp's old truck with a grin.  It was always a treat to go with Gramp in that truck.  It had a horn that went Ahhhwooooahhh!  Yep, I was happy.  However, Gramp made sure I would learn my lesson well.  He put me to work in the cemetery he took care of trimming weeds around the stones.  He also had a long talk with me about self-respect, stealing, lying, respect for others, and doing the right thing.

I learned a lot that day.  I learned what family love was all about.  I learned to do what was right, even though others might try to pressure me into doing something wrong.  I learned that my actions affect no only me, but the people around me.  I learned that I was loved and I loved my family even more.  So once upon a time, I was a thief....one time only.  I never did it again.  Ever.  After all, I was a huge Batman fan, and what would Batman think of me, "The Candy Bar Thief".

"Beware the Ides of March"

Today is an important day in history!  That's right!  It's important!  "Beware the Ides of March"!  Too bad Julius Caesar didn't pay attention to that warning.  He might have lived a bit longer, but what would that have done to history.  How many times have we wondered what would happen if we could go back in time and change something?  Quite a few right?  The truth is, if we were to do that, we wouldn't be who we are now.

I know, what are you talking about?  You see, when people ask me if I would go back in time and change anything, I always answer, "No"!  I look at the past and see how the decisions, actions, and conversations have shaped who I am.  No way would I want to change that; otherwise, I would be a completely different person.  Maybe not one I would like very much at all.

Every path I have trodden, every stream I have forged, every mountain I have climbed has been a learning experience.  Sometimes, it was awesome!  Sometimes, if was complete failure.  Yet, I grew, learned, and expanded my mind from the results.  After all, that's what life is all about; learning, expanding, and growing in ways to include all cultures and people.

When I joined the Army, it was an eye opener. I had never been around so many different people and cultures in my life.  I loved meeting the people and learning about them.  I met people whom I learned so much from.  It was amazing and my love for history grew from it.  After i was discharged, I lived in NYC.  In Queens, to be exact.  Wow!  So much to learn and see.  So many ways to grow and learn.  Greeks lived next door on the right; Italians on the left.  Irish across the street.  The Greek Orthodox Church was down the next street and I loved to see the "Papa" in his robes.  Now you might say, but where are the other races, you talk about just white.

Well, in NYC you have areas where people just congregate to where they live.  Then they expand after awhile into mixed neighborhoods.  At least back then they did.  Now my employment was a whole different experience.  Indian, Irish, African-American, Native American, Barbados, Haiti, Jewish, Asian, you name it every culture and society was there.  It was wonderful!  A smorgasbord of learning and enrichment.  I learned, grew, and loved it!

Then to Florida....well, it's an amazing transient State. So many people coming and going. People from all over the world.  French, Russian, Scottish, Greek, Hispanic, African, the Islands, India, Middle East, Asian, everywhere.  Florida is actually a state where every country is represented and so many cultures are brought together.  But there is one little problem.  The white Christian who believes the state must tend only to white Christian ideals.  Then again, this is changing as well.  Slowly, very slowly, but it is changing.

This is what it's all about.  Change, the challenging of ideals which stop growth.  Change is not to be feared.  Oh I know, some change is considered not to be good; but then again, if we didn't look at it and learn from it, we would never know if it was good or bad.  So, in the end, "the Ides of March" were bad for Julius Caesar, but it was good for the rest of us.  After all, with the coming of Augustus Caesar came peace in the ancient world.  A world where all roads lead to Rome.  A world where the Christian god sent his Son.  A world of change, growth, expansion, and learning.  "Beware the Ides of March" for change is coming and challenges will be made to outdated molds of society.  Just don't fear them.  Learn and grow from them.  You will be very happy you did!

Women and History: We Do More Than Sew!

March is National Women's History Month , a celebration and acknowledgment of women throughout United States history.  This is a great time to learn and discover the reality of women in this country.  It's also, very sad that we have to set aside a month to focus on how women have helped shape the United States.  Think about it, there are 31 days in March, 365 days in a year, and of that amount 23 days are attuned to women in history.  Barely 6% of the year!  Wow, and this takes in half of the world's population.  Okay, what's wrong with this picture?  Well, it's actually a heck of a lot better than when I was a girl in elementary school.

That's right. I was thinking about the people we learned about when I was in school.  Not very many women come to mind.  As a matter of fact, I think I must have felt like Lucy in this Peanuts comic strip when I was young:

Yeah, I really felt like her.  We learned about  American heroes:  Paul Revere, George Washington, John and Samuel Adams, Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett, Abe Lincoln, Kit Carson, Lewis and Clark, Nathan Hale, Jim Bowie, General Grant, General Eisenhower, General Patton, and JFK.   We learned about the traitors or enemies of the US:  Benedict Arnold, General Lee, General William Howe, George III,  Hitler, and Santa Anna.  But, where were the women?  What did they do?  Sit around sewing?  

Well, if we think about what I was taught in elementary school and high school; yep!  Here are the women I remember learning about:  Pocohontas, Betsy Ross, Sacagawea, Louisa May Alcott, Harriett Tubman, and Susan B. Anthony.  That's it.  These are the only women I remember, and guess what?  One of them supposedly sewed the flag!  Wow!  Pretty sad.  I can name more men throughout history than women!  It's not because women didn't do anything.  No, it's do to the nature of our patriarchal society.  Let's face it, unless you were a white male, you didn't get much research time or mention in the history books.  

Thank God, that has and is being challenged and changed.  Guess what people! Women did a lot of things in history and today!  YES!  When I was a child, I was being told by the media and society that women were to be mommys, wives, teachers, and nurses.  As a teenager and young adult society decided that women could be cops, private investigator's military personnel, truck drivers, pastors and doctors.  Now here I am smiling a big grin knowing that women are in every field as men!  Politicians, governors, Secretary of State, even running for President!  AWESOME!  

Wait though, there are those who want to take women and put them back in the home, back in the closet so to speak where their talents, courage, innovations, and ideals are hidden from the young girls.  There are those who believe women are secondary citizens, whose whole worth is based upon motherhood, if even that.  Pretty sad isn't it.  Yeah, it is.  There are countries on Earth who treat women in this way and to know that there are people who think this in the United States is horrifying!  I know what I am talking about here.  

You see, once upon a time a little girl who was 9 years old wanted to be a pastor.  She told that to the minister of her church (a man).  This man told her, she could never be a minister.  She asked why.  He answered:  "You're a girl.  Girls can't be ministers".  You want to know devastation?  You want to know anger?  You want to know heartbreak?  Yeah, that's what happens when little girls are told they can't do something because they are a girl.  Now, this is a real story and is what my daughter was told.  Pretty sad, huh?  When she told me what happened I informed her that if she wanted to be a pastor she could.  No one has the right to tell you, you can't just because you're a girl.  Okay, so where am I going with this?  To you parents out there, support your children's decision.  Don't let them not have a dream.  If you have daughters, let them know they can do whatever they can achieve!  If you have sons, they too, can do anything, and so can the women around them.  Get rid of the negativity and open the mind to new thoughts and opportunities!  

Women in history?  Oh yeah, there are so many we know and learn about now that it is wonderful to be female.  Sappho, Cleopatra, Nefertiti, Empress Justinian, Caterina Sforzi, Lucretia Borgia, Elizabeth Bathory, Queen Mary, Elizabeth I, Isabella, Caroline Herschel, Theano, Aglanike, Arete of Cyrene, 

Abella, Sophia Brahe, Loredana Marcello, Catherine Littlefield Greene, Abigail Adams, Phillis Wheatly, Mercy Otis Warren, Deborah Read Franklin, Margaret Corbin, Deborah Samson, Sybil Ludington, Clara Barton, Sujourney Weaver, Sally Tompkins, Cathay Williams, Amelia Earhart, Jackie Cochran, want me to continue?  There are so many that I don't have the time or room to put them in here, but they were an amazing part of history.  Whether for science, political, soldiers, writers, whatever they were there and they did what they were born to do.  

So, take a little time and do more than talk about women in history.  Learn about these women.  Share their stories.  Bring them to life again by understanding that women are a part of this world as well and have worked to bring freedom to ALL people in the United States.  

Have fun!

Work Cited

Peanuts, Charles Schultz.  

For The Love of Thrillers

One of the prerequisites of reading a book for me is that it has a basis upon history.  That's one of the reasons I love to read thrillers.  Novels by Clive Cussler, Dan Brown, James Rollins, JFF Penn, Rebecca Cantrell, Jeremy Robinson, and David Wood bring history to their tales and weave it within the framework of the story line.  Whether it is about Atlantis, the Khans, or Native American lore the historic reference is the major contemplation of the tale which is brought into the present and brings it alive for the reader.

Plus, one can learn so much from the research they have done in seeking information concerning a certain event or item from history.  When I read one of the books, I find myself researching the historic item and learning as much about as I can.  For instance, one of Jeremy Robinson's books discusses golems.  Well, if anyone plays games with dwarfs, one knows that golems are rock statues come to life.  In historic reference, golems are a part of Jewish folklore, beings which were created from inanimate objects (like stones or clay).  They are anthromorphic and become animated.  Believe it or not the first use of golem is actually in the Talmud which describes Adam as being a golem, made from mud.  Hence, golems were considered the creation of individuals who were very holy or close to god.  However, there are two interesting aspects concerning golems:  they were unable to speak and they were controlled by whoever created them.  Psalm 139:16 actually used the galmi which when translated means my golem or unformed body.  Cool, right?  Hey, I think it is.  History is filled with these types of fascinating beings and they are found in many stories of the past.

Now, if statues coming to life aren't your thing, how about a book by David Wood called Hell Ship?  Ever heard of Hell Ships?  They were used in WWII, by the Japanese to move Allied prisoners from one location to forced labor camps. The ships were filled with prisoners who had no water, no food, no anything.  Many died on board from disease.  Many more were killed when Allied submarines or ships fired upon the Hell Ships, sinking them, not realizing the ships were filled with their comrades.  Yet, this is even the beginning in history where the term was first coined.  Nope.  That distinguishing attribute comes from the American Revolution when British troops placed American prisoners aboard ships in New York Harbor.  One of these ships was the HMS Jersey and held the prisoners in such deplorable conditions the prisoners dubbed it "Hell".  By the time the Revolution was over 11,000 Americans had died in these "Hell Ships".  So, here you are, the realities of war and the history behind such atrocities.

Yeah, I just brought up two authors, but the others are just as historic in their writings as well.  Rebecca Cantrell writes wonderful novels concerning the Nazis and attitudes toward homosexuals.  JFF Penn brings to life the treasures of Israel and how they are stolen and sold into the black market as well as other historic treasures in her books.  The other three are very well known for their historic references.  These are fantastic authors with great stories to tell and the use of history furthers the adventures and gives you an appreciation for learning more about the events, items, symbols, or lore they use to bring a reality which can actually occur.

So, grab a book and enjoy!  I have to get back to reading....this time The Belial Library by RD Brady....more archaeology, more history, and yeah, thrills!!!

Definitely A Ship From Hell

David Wood and Sean Ellis have created a Dane Maddock Origins novel which brings forth the horrors of WWII and the lengths people will go to achieve and maintain power. Hell Ship was the name given to ships which the Japanese used to load with Allied POWs and move them to forced labor camps. The ships were crammed full of men with no water, food, or sanitary conditions. Many died from diseases and more then 18,000 would become the victims of Allied forces sinking the ships thinking they were Japanese support ships. They were definitely ships from hell! In this case, Maddock and Bones are sent to find a certain Hell Ship and in doing so find themselves in a watery world of hell and a power struggle between Templars and a group called the Dominion...The action is fast and the story is great. A really good read! Now waiting for the next novel on Maddock and Bones Origins!

Callsign: King: Brainstorm Trilogy

Callsign: King - The Brainstorm Trilogy (A Jack Sigler Thriller) (Kindle Edition)

Jeremy Robinson and Sean Ellis have really created as great trilogy with Brainstorm. I fell in love with Jeremy's writings when I read Pulse and I admit you may want to check it out too. However, the Brainstorm Trilogy gives enough back story that you will not have a hard time catching on to the Chess Team. After all, this is all about King and it is filled with the action, adventure, science, and history to lead you on a roller coaster of fun and enjoyment. Take the chance and be whisked away with King from Africa to the United States to Paris in this wonderfully exciting adventure trilogy

Hey, You Know Any Strippers? I Do!

It's been awhile since I have written here.  Too many things going on in the world and I found myself reading as much as possible about them.  Too much anger and hatred.  Too many people fighting for human rights.  Too much war and power mongers.  Sometimes I have to step back and look at everything...and I do mean everything..then move on to the path in my journey in order to comprehend the events occurring.  You might call it an individual isolation movement.  You see I have been looking not just at the international scope of the world, but at the personal or localized schemes as well.  I know, what the hell are you talking about, right?  Simple.  How does one feel when one sees individuals who were once in your life involved in stripping, drugs, or crime?

At first you are aghast.  Honestly, I knew two girls who are now strippers at the local titty bars.  When I first met them, they were living alone in a house provided for them by their mother.  The eldest was 19, the younger 17.  I hadn't known that they were alone without parental guidance.  The mom made sure to show up early in the morning, and be there at night.  In reality, she was living with her boyfriend and the sisters were "kept" in the house at the end of the street from mine.  The mom didn't even live in the same neighborhood, she was 5 miles away!   So, I hope you understand when I say, my heart just tore upon finding out their treatment.  They had both dropped out of school, but the eldest had gotten her GED.  The younger one....she was lost in a haze of drugs, sex, and booze.  Her mother and grandmother made her have an abortion when she was 17.  When she was 18 she was pregnant again and had this one, with an abusive baby daddy.   Now, she is 21, given birth to two children who have been removed from her.  She has a police record for drugs and is a stripper.  Yeah, a stripper.

Now, her elder sister, did get a degree in medical assistance, but she couldn't hold down a job.  I don't know why, we lost contact with them....she has been the girlfriend of a now 31 year old man for four years.  Party, booze, sex, drugs....Yeah, all of it and guess what?  She's a stripper too at a different club.  So, the two sisters live in a world many of us only see on tv.  Really!  How does society look at these two girls?  Think about it.  Not good.  Let's face it, how many of us called them lowlifes?  Scuz?  Whores? Waste of society?  What else?  How many of us would look at them with disgust?  Hey, let's be honest!  Wouldn't we?

So, now you know what I have been thinking of lately.  Those two girls.  I don't pity them.  I don't put them down.  They are a product of their environment.  This is what they know.  What I do question is why?  Not why about them, I question why WE the community around them allowed this to happen to them?  Do you really think when they were little girls they wanted to grow up and be strippers?  Hell no, they loved to play and run like every little child does.  Did they desire to be addicted to drugs?  NO!  They wanted to be loved.  Yeah, loved.  Just like any other kid.  But their parents divorced when they moved here.  Their father was abusive and went to jail for it.  Their mom dumped them for a boyfriend who didn't want them around.  Okay, so now we can blame the parents!  Yes!  The parents are to blame, but so are we.  The community they lived in.  Yeah, some of their neighbors knew the girls were left alone and never reported it!!!!  One guy friend even put a red light in the outside light!  Yep, he was a great friend to them, gave them drugs, alcohol, and yeah, you got it, pimped them out.

Really great.  What the hell was I doing?  I had no idea....but I wondered.  Did I do anything?  No, I thought the mom lived with them.  But here's the catch, what do you do when you think that there is parental involvement?  I don't know.   I still haven't figured that out yet.  I didn't find out all of this stuff until two years ago!  By then it was too late.  Way too late....Now, they are strippers, fast money, social outcasts to many, but not to all.  To the group they are in they are hard workers and earning their money.  Isn't that the American way?

Now, I want you to think about this which has really made me sick to my stomach....who goes to strip clubs?  Okay, some women do, young men do----in one aspect I wonder if it is a right of passage for some.  Older men go...Yeah, I'm talking about the 40, 50, 60, 70 somethings who are there.  That's right....men who are watching these women.....granted some women are in their 40s... but, I'm thinking of the two girls I know....21 and 22 years old.   I know, to me they are kids....to the men.....I'll let you think about it.  Why are the older men there?  Are they lonely?  Are they looking for something to justify their manhood?  Or are they just wanting to....well, you know....I'm not going into details.. For that matter, why do I even care?  People choose their own paths, but I wonder why?  Easy answer, we follow the "advice" of those we think are friends.  We believe this is what we are good at.  Many follow the path of least resistance for it is the flow of society and society's will. We think who cares about others, I have to take care of myself.  We follow our religion and the doctrines / dogmatic of our churches.  It is so easy to condemn and judge rather than realize that our attitudes contribute to those who live and work in "alternative lifestyles".

How many of us are like the

"The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector

9 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Luke 18:9-14."

Or do we look at each other with hope and love? 

Well, now you know why I haven't been writing.  I've been trying to figure out the world around me....I know, I never will...but I keep doing in order to find out.  Those two girls.....God be with them....and with us all for failing them...