Hope

“A little song on the breeze”
What a gentle little Zephyr
This evening will sigh
Under the pines in the little grove.
And the rest he’ll understand.”

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
LE NOZZE DI FIGARO
Act III Duetto: “Sull’aria…che Soave Zeffiretto”

“Andy Dufresne: That’s the beauty of music. They can’t get that from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?

Red: I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it though. Didn’t make much sense in here.

Andy Dufresne: Here’s where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don’t forget.

Red: Forget?

Andy Dufresne: Forget that… there are places in this world that aren’t made out of stone. That there’s something inside… that they can’t get to, that they can’t touch. That’s yours.

Red: What’re you talking about?

Andy Dufresne: Hope.”

~The Shawshank Redemption.

The last eight years have been a strange recapitulation for me of my life.

Some esoteric individuals call it a preparation for the “return of Saturn in my natal chart.” It is the time of turning 57 to 60. Yet I have experienced it all the same, in the last eight years.

A couple of years before 2010 is when it started; a need to look back at my youthful rebellion. Now the revival or nostalgia has reached a Peak of the Bell Curve. As a generation feeling, I was not the only one from my generation feeling the same pull. It is all in the song, one note to the next, and it took me back to a time when finding a 45 was not an easy proposition.

Now it is too darn easy.

Authoring a book has lost its charm now because there are so many ‘telling a tale’ or ‘weaving a story ‘of those same rebellious times.

For me it all comes down to the experience. Looking it square in the face and being happy. I am admiring old friends that still hang to the musical notes of rebellion, where some friends /comrades are as warm as the sun and others as cold as death. Yet it is a good journey still to hope for something new without memories.

Andy Dufresne: You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific?

Red: No.

Andy Dufresne: They say it has no memory. That’s where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory.

~The Shawshank Redemption: Stephen King

Dance of the Salamander

My totem

This little creature has the power to sustain fire! Symbolically it is standing tall within the fires of life!

As a totem symbol, that runs throughout many cultures, it is a remarkable one!

Alchemically it is the power of fiery reactions and used with cool water to make steam!

I captured this image over the rooftop of our neighbor’s home across the street. It came so close ! I call this the Woolsey fire Monster! In the center of the fire light I caught this terrible image. Yes we endured a terrifying time ! Trucks were packed up and cats were ready … we were lucky!

The Woolsey Fire was a wildfire that burned in Los Angeles and Ventura Counties of the U.S. state of California. The fire ignited on November 8, 2018.

— in West Hills.

Also known to be by Catherine Blake is this small watercolour, known as: Head “taken from something she saw in the Fire.” 9.7cm x 12.0 cm. It is also from the estate of Geoffrey Keynes, and kept at Fitzwilliam, Cambridge (not on display)

Catherine Blake (née Boucher; 25 April 1762 – 18 October 1831) was the wife of the poet, painter and engraver William Blake, and a vital presence and assistant throughout his life.

Title/s Head ‘taken from something she saw in the fire’ Maker/s : Blake, Catherine (draughtsman) [ULAN info: British painter, 1762-1831] Category: drawing Name : drawing School/Style : British Technique Description : watercolour on paper Dimensions height: 97 mm width: 120 mm Material/s watercolour (medium) paper (support) Accession Number PD.158-1985 (Paintings, Drawings and Prints) (Reference Number: 8853; Input Date: 2000-06-29 / Last Edit: 2010-06-07)

old feelings…

Flopside cOmics

The arch of her back,

the tall reach of fullness up front,

that isn’t it.

Her hair is growing

please no… not those feelings again.

The smiles and looks

she gets… she knows.

The smell of her perfume,

or them…

She’s been around

please don’t….don’t bring those feelings back again.

That dream in Hotel 88

sushi on Topanga and Saticoy,

Her growing hair is doing it again…

close to her shoulders…

She is over this…

let the men not bring back

those feelings again.

Random Book Pick day…is our Sun’s day, Jokers talk !!

“Believe it or not, authenticity wins out over popularity in the end.” ~ Unknown

From A collection of symbols found when nature and man-made things merge. Hudley Flipside

“At length, sick with longing for those glittering sunset streets and cryptical hill lanes among ancient tiled roofs, nor able sleeping or waking to drive them from his mind, Carter resolved to go with bold entreaty whither no man had gone before, and dare the icy deserts through the dark to where unknown Kadath, veiled in cloud and crowned with unimagined stars, holds secret and nocturnal the onyx castle of the Great Ones.” Pg. 165 Par. 2

~ The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, H.P. Lovecraft

I never imagined bringing H.P. Lovecraft and Elvis Costello together. Maybe it is because they both represent something lost in my life, such as the wild nature of randomness or the trek it took to find something new. Ones creative spark of unknown possibilities ? It was like galloping the hills of unknown mountains, or driving to new clubs to find ground breaking music. Only needing a loose possibility of familiar faces.

Sunday Is Random pick and random read day….“gigs and flyers!”

Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion.

~Arthur Koestler

Humid and a belly filled with coffee on a Sunday while kids are playing their games; I find that I am OK! I look to see that the cats are OK too. Youngest is silent as oldest is screaming at his friends as he games online.

An easy Sunday in my cave, then all of a sudden like a flash of lightning from yesterdays storm, my imagined sharp arm reaches through the air pulling me, with eyes-closed, to the books on the brown shelf.

I know, I just saw the cult classic Equinox* last night.

All about a book and a Demon… Yes a book can change ones perspective about life. Here this reading of some random video promotion… moves us to something musical…

“To the Minutemen, the world was divided between two things-gigs and flyers. Everything was playing shows or getting people to the shows. The rest was not reality.”

~ A History Lesson Part One Synopsis by Dave Travis

This small paragraph can’t be the motif of Punk Rock… but it is…, riding the wave with many guys who were at that place from “one note to the next,” I am glad that this random pick helped me to let go of my grieving process. What I feel for my punk-rock-youthful days, and when life really was only “gigs and flyers!”

Until next Sunday….

Random Book Day By Hudley

http://sugarbuzzmagazine.com/bands/davetravis/davetravis.html

*Equinox 1970 Film

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0067055/

Elderberry wine

Once while working as a Home Health Aide on the East coast, I did a nice thing for a wise old lady. She had grace, experience, and savvy. Her home was a grand home that had been in her family for generations.

In my mind she seemed like Scarlett O’Hara. Now in a wheelchair most of the time she told me stores that I will not share here.

She survived her family and had none to tend to her needs. Her memories were as clear and vivid as her mind, well her past memories not her present ones as much. One story I will highlight is how her father made Elderberry wine. They kept the home-made wine in their basement.

Her home had a spiral staircase, beautiful chandeliers, and ghosts. I focused on the living room and kitchen because this was all the house that was in-use. We were both alone in Rochester New York.

I decided to visit her on Christmas Eve… yes, I visited the wise old lady. I loved her story so much that I gave her a small gift of Elderberry wine. We shared a shot of the wine and that was all!

I hope I never forget her smile. I put the wine up in a closet far from her knowing reach.

The Visiting Nurses Association told me another aide found the wine and accused me of being an alcoholic. In my defense they did not appreciate the truth I told them. I guess I stepped over my bounds, yet I know this wise old lady and her ghostly dad… had a good ole’ family time that Christmas Eve. I sure did.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/nice-is-as-nice-does/

cock-horses

Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross. To see a fine lady upon a white horse, With rings on her fingers, And bells on her toes. She shall have music, Wherever she goes.

~ Nursery rhyme

Watching “That ’70s Show” with the teenage son last night took me back when I was actually a teenager at that time. Some of the show is superficially realistic.

There were the pot smoking circles of deep reflection…ha ha. The same record (vinyl) playing repeatedly. Sex was a big deal as well as a girlfriend or boyfriend. The same old thing…my kids have a different experience.

It got me thinking about the time when my dad was asked over to my boyfriend’s house. I was 15 and went missing.

I was gone for two days and no one knew where I was. Even my brother Greg looked out over the valley concerned that I may have been abducted.

Mike’s dad said to my dad,

“So your daughter and my son are having relations.”

My dad gave a strange look,

“You mean they are copulating?”

Of course, Mike’s dad laughed and said,

“Something like that…”

Mike and I were in the room and we were a bit scared. They had found us hiding in the attic above Mike’s parent’s house. Mike had a nice little set up, like a ’70s van with food, beer and pot. We had two days of copulating and I even read a book. Well that was the real version of “That ’70s Show!”

This takes me to the word my dad used, copulating. Tonight, Venus will merge with Jupiter in the night sky. It will not be a Venus Observa!

“Technical term for the male-superior sexual position, which Adam tried and failed to impose on Lilith, and which the Catholic church designated the only legal position for marital intercourse, since it afforded the least pleasure to the wife. Patriarchal societies generally opposed such female-superior sexual positions as those favored by the worshiper of Shiva and Hecate, and by medieval witches who, as the nursery rhyme says, rode on top of their “cock-horses.”

~ Pg. 1044 Barbara G. Walker

Tonight, Venus is doing her magic. Lilith will be proud and a few happy men!! As Jupiter and Venus merge tonight guess who will be on top??

* The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets

The Most Interesting Woman Alive…

Wheat And Moon

vincent-van-gogh-landscape-with-wheat-sheaves-and-rising-moon — Vincent Van Gogh ` Wheat and Moon

” …The moon in this case is not a primum movems (first moving one); she suffers just like man or plant. It is rather a question of some occurrence in our cosmos which mythology expresses equally in the symbol of the moon, the woman, and the grain. In so doing it speaks of the one under the image of the other. for this it is particularly fond of the Kore figure.” –
PG. 130 , Kore essays On A Science Of Mythology C. J. Jung and C. Kerenyi

I am amazed how ancient cultures and Gods, and especially Goddesses are connected to the earth and sky, the harvest of grains, or caves and trees, forests, and fog! Myths, stories and ancient rituals are now magnified on programs like Ancient Aliens, Monsters in America and A Haunting ! We have become so disassociated with magic and lore, that were once very much a part of our ancient ancestors, it is now exploited as strange, weird or crazy.

Yet paradoxically these supernatural legends, myths and the strange earth are all part of us! It is good, natural and part of us all!

As the math equations that morph into divine intelligence, or as electricity is powered by communicating aliens or the dead! Dreams can move through us and our new Gods of computers and hand help devices! Masses of gamers across the country… or around the world… merging with strange battles from the earth, chemicals and unknown alchemists. Technological caves and dust mites are our human wheat field. I just don’t know.

I am jealous of how close ancient people were to the earth, sky and grain of the earth. A simple strand of wheat, like gold, holding a ritual of initiation! Something our current world knows very little about! Yet the image is held frozen as an image or seed unbroken by wisdom!

The Decisive Moment

“I am all that was, that is, and that is yet to come”

~Isis-Neith

I will define the crisis as the decisive moment. The moment when action has to be made. If action is not taken … the rogue wave will crash, then chaos potentially with time, will go back to some sort of normal consistency.

After an earthquake or right after a fight, crisis moves through us like a tornado. Stress and hate sometimes can also create a funnel-shaped whip of black magic. Yet, in all of this I behave I am OK in most situations.

I don’t like being in crisis with the Justice System because it works so darn slow. The Justice System is a slow-moving cow. A cow regurgitates everything very slowly. If you got big bucks, it works better and faster, but it is still a crisis and is a frozen pain!!

Humor helps to calm those terrible times of decisive moments. Also, I have learned that deciding at the peak of a crisis movement is the wrong time to do it. It is a paradoxical reality!

Ideology that idealizes motherhood

June 7 2015

A statue representing the scales of justice is seen on the roof of the Old Bailey courts in central London, January 26, 2007. British Prime Minister Tony Blair's ruling Labour Party faced new embarrassment over law and order on Friday after a judge freed a convicted paedophile in part because the government had warned the prisons were full. REUTERS/Toby Melville (BRITAIN) — Lady Justice

A new bookcase was moved into our living, entertainment, dining room. At times I look up to gaze at an old friendly book. Some from my university days and some from mom or a colorful rock & roll one. Today a shadow of mantis took my focus towards a book entitled; She Who Is; The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse. A book from a course taught by a Catholic mother / professor from the east coast making a change on the west coast. Supervised by a fascist nun who looked the other way claiming not to know of such a course, yet whispering to a Priest, head of the department, that it was in fact a humanities course. Confusing? It was to me too. Gay young nuns and intellectual theologians hiding under the holiness of a patriarchal religious university confused me very much; yet this course was fantastic. I am experienced with dysfunctional family dynamics. Anyway, this is the book that came forth today… a very interesting and-insightful one to boot. Taken and opened randomly to a paragraph and then typed down here for a display post.

“There is yet more to the situation. Physically is constitutive of human persons. As spirit-in-the-world, women are embodied differently from men; the physical difference is not extrinsic to self-identity or relationship with others. The range of experiences associated with a personal embodiment capable of physically bearing, delivering and nourishing new life shapes women’s subjectivity in unique ways. Moreover, actually giving life and rearing children are formative experiences which affect not only individual women but the whole fabric of society. This is a realm belonging to more than half the human race that has seldom been articulated by those whose experience it actually is, until now. Feminist theory is thus working two sides of the barricade a once. It critiques patriarchal ideology that idealizes motherhood as a universal norm but that simultaneously relegates the role of mother to the private order. At the same time it seeks to honor the distinctiveness of women’s embodiment and creativity, including the powerful experience of being mothers. It seeks to see with new eyes the worth of what has been trivialized and devalued in patriarchal judgment on female experience, and to avoid the trap of holding make experience to be the norm.” ~ Mother-Sophia Pg. 177 Elizabeth A. Johnson (1941)

Kachina Art

I created these images 1991 and was totally engulfed in the world of Hopi and Native American Kachinas.

Greeting-cards. 6 by 6 inches.

002 — **Kachina Planets ~ Holly Cornell 1991**

001 — **The Winged Ones ~Holly Cornell 1991**

Medusa, she really ain’t no monster!!

001 — Gorgon / Medusa figure, on a pot from the Aegean Island of Melos (4). CA. 1500 BCE. British Museum , London . ( Gimbutus 1989, p. 208, fig. 328) (3)

The Perseus story was invented to account for the appearance of Medusa’s face on Athene’s Aegis (1), inherited from the pre-Hellenic period when Athene was actually the same Goddess (also mythologized as Metis, her alleged “mother”). The Athenians pretended their municipal Goddess was the “wisdom” of Zeus, born from the head.

But older myths said Athene was born of the Tree Queens of Libya-that is, the Trippe Goddess, of who Metis-Medusa was the Destroyer aspect. A female face surrounded by serpent-hair was an ancient, widely recognized symbol of divine female wisdom, and equally of the “wise blood” that supposedly gave women divine powers. (2)

It amazed me how it does not take much digging to find the roots of things. Like how often Christianity or our patriarchal cultures cover over many beautiful myths and stories. I reach deep for these truths within and without, and all is amplified as a gift. Being a Gorgon monster is OK by me…I am in my element! Looks like I can do with a new tattoo?? Metamorphosis monster!!

(1) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aegis

(2) Barbara G. Walker, The Women’s Encyclopedia of Myths And Secretes http://www.amazon.com/Womens-Encyclopedia-Secrets-Barbara-Walker/dp/0044409540

(3) Winifred Milius Lubell, The Metamorphosis of Baubo http://www.amazon.ca/The-Metamorphosis-Baubo-Womans-Sexual/dp/0826512526

(4) http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/374143/Melos

A Mystery…us little worms !

220px-Songs_of_innocence_and_of_experience,_page_39,_The_Sick_Rose_(Fitzwilliam_copy)

O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love, Does thy life destroy. ~William Blake

I did not take becoming a mom lightly. Growing up in the 1970s sex was rampant, provocative and held secrets. We had Planned Parenthood to help us out! During the 1980s I was too wild to have children and ended up leaving a punk rock music scene in order to find a lifestyle where I eventually could have some kids.

The world my kids are growing up in is now so diverse. Gangs, sex and racism is something they handle with goodness and insight that amazes me. They have come into a technological world that is self-motivating and profoundly enriching. Not to say that technology is perfect because it can be addictive and time-consuming . I find it better than sitting around a circle smoking pot and listening to the same vinyl records over and over again… like the guys I grew up with!

Two things happened today that made me sick to my stomach. The first was finding out that a club on Facebook that looked very inviting and cute shamefully turned out to be an exclusive club for colored women. The second thing that happened was a woman rewarding other women for not being mothers.

Time to think !!

I don’t know why a young colored woman would want to put a tattoo on herself supporting a club that is racist against white woman? I don’t know why a woman from my own generation would sarcastically humiliate other women for making the decision to have a child.

When I was a 19-year-old punker I wanted to be sterilized! Considering over population, my own sexual abuse experiences, and the need to control my own body; made me aspire to this.

Time to think !

Two abortions, three miscarriages and two baby boys later I am grateful that I decided to have children. It is my body and the opportunity to bring children into this world has been my greatest gift.

I have come to the profound conclusion that life is a mystery. I know that this mystery must know a great deal more of what is going on than we do…

us little worms !

“The Electromagnetic Hypothesis of Olfaction”

Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside

“What a wicked web we weave /When governments deceive/And I wanna believe……/I gotta believe/Conspiracy theory abound/But the truth is under ground,/I wanna believe I wanna believe/I gotta believe”

~ GBH

I have a suspicion, and I believe that Colin Abrahall wrote the lyrics to the song “I Want to Believe!” I woke up with it on my mind. Also, those “X-Files” feelings got my pineal gland stimulated again. Something is in the air. I can always feel it when Chris Carter is creating by way of the vast unconscious collective of writers. Believe me, I just know. Before big hair Giorgio A. Tsoukalos there were the great big hairdos of GBH!! See how it all comes together here. I am pulling the threads tighter too.

the_x_files_i_want_to_believe_2008_blu-ray_pic01

“Scully: Mulder, since we’ve been here you’ve acted as if you’ve expected to find every piece of evidence that we’ve come across. What aren’t you telling me? Why are we here?
Mulder: A true piece of history, Scully. The very first X-File. Initiated by J. Edgar Hoover himself in 1946. ‘ X-Files“

When the X-Files film I Want To Believe came out in 2008 I was thrilled. You have to know that I was a hardcore fan of the 1990s X-Files series throughout the 90s; besides nursing the babe I looked forward to Unsolved Mysteries and then the X-Files on Friday nights.

“We are made of stardust, our whole body consists of material that has been here before the beginning of time.”

~‘Giorgio A. Tsoukalos

Now before the 2008 release of the I want to Believe film we listened to the Ha Ha CD in our car. GBH’s song I Want To Believe, was to me, the perfect new addition to the this film. I put so much anticipation into the song and the film I thought for sure that Mr. Carter would use the song in his film. I was sad when the two songs only came together in my mystical place of belief… but I was projecting it hard onto the movie screen … believe me!!

What does all of this mean… it means something and in time I may understand…. but for now…

“The Electromagnetic Hypothesis of Olfaction” at the Society for Scientific Exploration conclude that insects use a portion of the EM spectrum to communicate.”

‘Pg 207 Lost Star of Myth and Time by Walter Cruttenden

Sky Woman

The bronze Statue of Freedom by Thomas Crawford is the crowning feature of the Dome of the United States Capitol. The bronze statue stands 19 feet 6 inches tall and weighs approximately 15,000 pounds.

Ataensic

“In the mythology of the Iroquois and Huron of North America, the Woman Who Fell From the Sky is a primal ancestor. Also known as Sky Woman or Ataensic, she plays a central role in creation.”

According to legend, the Woman Who Fell From the Sky lived in a world above the sky. One day she became pregnant and fell out of heaven. Some stories say that she fell while chasing a bear, while others say that the tree of life was uprooted, and she tumbled through the hole left behind.

As the woman fell, ducks flew beneath her to slow her descent. She landed in a vast watery place, with no land in sight. Turtle arose from the water and let her rest on his back. Meanwhile, Muskrat dove beneath the water and brought up mud to form the earth. Soon after, the woman gave birth to twin sons—one good and one evil—who created all the natural features of the earth and sky. According to some stories, she gave birth to a daughter, and that woman was the mother of the twins.

The good twin shaped the sky and created the sun. He also made the moon, stars, mountains, and many plants and animals.

The evil twin set out to destroy his brother’s creations. He created darkness to drive the sun from the sky and made monsters, storms, and various kinds of dangerous beasts. When creation was finished, the brothers fought.

The good twin won and banished his evil brother from the earth. Some stories say that the evil twin became ruler of the underworld and still tries to spread evil in the world.

Some stories say that the evil twin became ruler of the underworld and still tries to spread evil in the world.

Jean’s Sour Cream Beans

here was a woman in my mother’s life. A girlfriend to her father. She was mentioned now and then, if only indirectly. This woman had a big influence in my life as well. My maternal grandmother died when my mother was young. Later came Jean who was my grandfather’s longtime girlfriend. They never married. I can see that Jean had a good deal of womanly feminine influences on my mother. I know Jean loved yellow roses. One day I went to visit mom and I brought her some yellow roses. Mom said,

“Jean loved Yellow roses…I was just thinking of her today honey!”

It is true, mom and I always had an intuitive relationship. Maybe I was not as feminine or a shape dresser like she was and maybe I preferred not to iron my clothes like my mother did…yet, we always had an intuitively close relationship. Her sense of sight and smell was fantastic, as is mine. Her creative genius is her gift to me, her family was the focus of her life. She was fair but somewhat biased towards the men in her life. Mom loved to cook, and she ate with two hands… but only sometimes.

Jean’s Sour Cream Beans is a family recipe passed down to my mom via Jean. It was always served on Easter. Those wild days when relatives visited just to get a taste, porker, sports, and ham aside.

I often break some family traditions. I am sharing this today because it is so good. We had it yesterday and I am eating the leftovers from yesterday’s Easter dinner right now as I type.

Easter is about sharing the best that one has to share… and this is one of mine.

Jean’s Beans

1/2 butter melted

Mix this together with…

1 pint sour cream

5 heaping tablespoons pure maple syrup

3 heaping teaspoons Colman’s English dry mustard.

1 LB.. dry baby Lima beans. Salt the water beans soak in and soak over night. Then par boil 20 to 30 minutes. Drain beans and mix together with sour cream mixture.

Bake uncovered two hours or until done in a 200 degree oven, stir occasionally during the cooking.

Tattoo therapy

While at Sam Ash music store (RIP), to pick up some sheet music with youngest Son, a worker there said something to me,

“Does that hurt?’

I looked down at my arm and held it as if to see if it did. I then remembered the tattoos there.

“No!”

“When you got them didn’t, they hurt you. On the bone I mean?”

I said no again…

“The first two needles felt like a halo came over me. It got hot. I felt anxiety for a few seconds. It did not hurt me.”

Then a weird look came over his face. He was about my age. A thin musician type.

“They say that tattoos are addicting. That the more you get the more you want to get them?”

I am not the addictive type. (Only with the band the Saints. Oh know, I typed their name. Now it looks like I will end this post with another Saint’s song.)

Then he asked me,

“You got more?”

“Yes a few here and there!”

“Ya see when my Mom and Dad died it helped me kill the emotional pain. It was a religious experience for me…it was therapy.”

“OK. nice talking with ya.”

The Sam Ash worker walked away. I proceeded to the sheet music section of the store.

Mr. Kale

Blue Cheese Crumble

Having to eat better is a good thing. Hormones and emotions play nasty games with my blood pressure. My Kaiser doctor tells me I have sweat more and eat better.

I have a great relationship with Mr. Kale now. Cakes, pies and cookies…and pints of beer…I am seeing less of. In fact, if you were to line up chocolate cake or a big piece of wedding cake with mile high rich white frosting together with Kale; I would now walk away with Mr. Kale. It is that good for me. I love the texture and taste.

I’ve created a blue cheese crumble to put over and mingle with the deep savory expectations of my large dark green leaves of organic Kale.

Mr. Kale took the indecent proposal well! Now my Venus veins are doing the good green sweating for my happy health.

The Recipe

Any container from the market of crumbled blue cheese.

A bag of sunflower seeds. Any kind will do; salted, roasted or raw.

A colorful handful of shredded cheddar cheese.

Another colorful handful of dehydrated purplish red cranberries.

Mix together in your favorite mixing bowl.

Cut up the kale in bite size pieces.

Put kale into a voluptuous large salad bowl

Put blue cheese crumble on top. Mix intimately.

Eat as is or save in refrigerator with cover for later.

It only gets better with time…

Some Grape seed oil, sweet vinegar, a couple drops of Tabasco and salt & pepper dresses well with this too.

I also like to use I Goddess Dressing; Simple Truth Organic.

Play this loud so everyone can hear it !!

Even the sound of a pepper tree…can house a mad woman !!!

Yesterday…the only cleaning lady to ever come to a house I have lived in, came to clean the sawdust and dirt off our new kitchen cabinets. Also to finish cleaning up the remodeled kitchen is a new experience for me as well. My mother lived in the same house for 50 years and never did this.

So, indirectly, I’m doing this for mom and myself. It is amazing. Fourteen years in a house, as old as me, gets a face lift. I can compromise. Yet this is not the focus of my story.

The focus is on a cleaning lady. She was nice to me. We gave her all the things she needed to clean. This is all part of the contractor’s agreement of course. As I sat in my computer room the entertainment began. She started having a very loud conversation with someone in Spanish. I am not bilingual. It was not so much her cleaning with one hand as she held her cell phone in the other, because I admire multitasking. It was the loudness. I could hear both sides of the conversation.

They started to, badly, sing songs. The birds stopped singing outside. Like a cat that pisses on its territory, this cleaning lady was pissing on ours. I was amused and so I let it happen.

This took me back to the day when music was loud. Woofers & Tweeters, Ghetto Blasters and Car Radios screamed like the cleaning lady’s conversation. Now a new generation of earphones & headphones with long earbuds dangle under shirts that are camouflaged.

A flip listening to music has happened that this cleaning lady has not learned about …yet. These are the facts, either she is unaware of her actions, does not give a shit about the environment that she is now in, or…. I will leave that up to you…dearest reader. The loud but nice cleaning lady did her work and was off.

play loud… to mom!!

Thought that I would forget you?
Heaven knows that’s not my style.
And that I would let you…
Walk away without at least goodbye.
You shouldn’t let those feelings fool you.
You shouldn’t let those feelings get you down.

We’re happy together now.
Feeling you close to me baby.
Happy till the end of time.
We’re happy together now.
Feeling you close to me baby.
Happy till the end of time.

We’re happy together.. happy together.

Thought that I was a devil?
But I’m an angel waiting for my wings.
And I was out to hurt you?
But I’ve no wish to ever ’cause you pain.
‘Cause there’s enough in this world of sorrow.
I’ve no wish to add some more to it.

We’re happy together now.
Feeling you close to me baby.
Happy till the end of time.
We’re happy together now.
Feeling you close to me baby.
Happy till the end of time.
We’re happy together.. happy together.

I don’t hear a symphony
All I hear is the beating of wings
What I’m trying to say is you’re my only.