School Profit-See…

August 1, 2017

Like clockwork the beginning schoolyear has brought out all the good hearted  folks to advertise how YOU can help “the children” start out the year right with supplies  so everyone is equipped to learn! Stuff the bus, fill the boxes, pack a backpack, and any other catch phrase that may appeal to the generous souls that are willing to help the kiddies, right? Wrong. Whether it’s cutting hair for free or donating school supplies it is not right. What in the world is wrong with people today? Underprivileged children is officially the norm. Yes, they ARE in a real sense of the word. Most have multiple “parents” or no parents, along with a childhood that includes things that I never even knew about until I was an adult.

A few boxes of crayons and some notebook paper are not going to change the child’s everyday life.  Crayons get broken and paper may get used, but the child remains in circumstances that put them in the line for free supplies in the first place. Parents who take them to these events smile broadly and say they are so ‘thankful’ to the volunteers/television  camera/radio dj who is live on location as the kiddies step up and receive.

Is there no shame anymore? Is there no questioning WHY these children’s parent’s are unable to buy school supplies when they know it will be approaching every single year?

You are a cruel and uncaring person. You have no idea the circumstances of the family. You have no right to judge. You need to mind your own business.  My answer to YOU is this: I am not a cruel uncaring person. I am, however, a person who is tired of all the begging, rather TAKING of people’s money and insisting that we owe it to “the children”. What do I owe to someone’s child? Better question, what does the PARENT owe to THEIR child? I don’t know the circumstances of the family, BUT I HAVE seen plenty of parents who stand in line for free stuff display some mighty fancy hairdos, nails, and clothing, along with a lot of them having no lack of body fat which says they are eating quite well. As far as minding my own business, I do very well in this area WITH THE EXCEPTION OF BEING TIRED OF GETTING BOMBARDED WITH THIS CRAZY “GIVE TO HELP” MESSAGE each year. Actually, I am tired of  EVERY SINGLE THING THAT PERTAINS TO GIVING. It is out of control.

This entire society is panhandling. It’s on the roads, in the airwaves, and certainly when you go outside to do any shopping or get a bite to eat after working all week. There are so many nonprofits you can’t even name them.  The churches are always helping people and yet it seems to be getting worse and worse. Maybe it’s time to resurrect the old way of things. Remember when people were willing to work for a living? Remember when people were ashamed to have to take something because they had no other way? Take a look at the old photos of soup lines up north during the depression. People were not laughing and looking all pleased. They were serious of face, mind, and spirit. People today only think they are underprivileged.

In case you think I’m blowing smoke, let me tell you why I think the way I do.  When I was a child, my mother once borrowed money from her brother to buy our school supplies because she just didn’t have the extra cash that particular year. She paid him back every cent and we had our school supplies. She did not go out and bellyache because she didn’t have the money. She went discreetly to family and family came through. The best part? She never, ever spoke of this to me or my brother as children and I still don’t know whether he knows about it, and I only found out from her after I was very grown in years.  Parents could use that advice, too. It seems parents today tell their children everything. Worse, they show them everything with the kinds of lifestyles they live.

Hate me if you want, but it is the truth. Look around you. You know I’m right.

 

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Passing Of Time…

July 26, 2017

is a constant thing. When looking at the mirror and going through everyday life we realize only when we see old photographs or now, digital or Facebook throwbacks how we look different and sometimes it comes as a shock. In less than a month I’ll be another year older if I should live. One never knows, but if I do, I’ll walk a bit more careful, go slower than I used to , and take precaution in areas that once were just a hop, skip, and a jump. Lately I’ve been noticing things that I myself did a decade or so back. When you are at that between age of not young but not old you tend to hold on to the young rather than accept the growing years. I could not tell you the day/month/year when acceptance of no longer being young was a fact in my life. While I’m still youthful to some, mostly I’m at the stage where I’m living a life that lets me simply be. Actually, there is no longer the desire to be young because when encountering  young people, the conversations they have and the things they do no longer hold my interest. They are in their season and I have already passed that one and am far into another one…the one that fits me. People that try to hold on are fooling themselves. Not that you have to grab a shawl and become helpless, far from it. Something I’ve noticed recently is someone although not too far behind me, appears to still be in a youthful state of mind even when it comes to everyday conversations and actions. When speaking, it is usually surface.  To date I only recall once a conversation on the serious side. Aside from being well set in the area of finance,(actually that is not a proven thing because again, people look well off all the time and behind closed doors there are sleepless nights, fighting, and a whole host of things that come to light when they file for divorce/bankruptcy/etc.) this person seems to either be in earnest  or else hiding their true personality to the public. The point I am making is, to each his/her own. My life is mine and they have theirs. Personally, I enjoy not having to fool with some of the things that seemed so important in my younger years. I wear, eat, purchase, or NOT purchase what I like and do not worry about whether I’ll meet expectations of others. Living according to my own interests is something that I enjoy and it came about as I became older.

I am happy with me and so, I say to everyone young , old, or middle: be comfortable in YOUR season.

 Now, (THE key word ), let’s enjoy the rest of the summer …

It’s A Wrap!…

July 2, 2017

My lifelong friend has a birthday shortly and yesterday the perfect gifts showed themselves while shopping. Deciding to wrap them I was reminded of how I sang a note of joy when gift bags came to market. I’m famously known for my wrapping skills. I say I wrap like my grandmother. On one occasion I heard my mother comment, ” You can always tell when a gift has been wrapped by Nanny (her mother). It wasn’t said in a disdainful manner, but rather an endearing one. Seems she was a bit off of perfection, unlike my mother, who would wrap a present that still leaves me wondering what happened to THAT gene where I’m concerned…

I’ve decided I’m a freestyle wrapper. It’s my signature just like my grandmother.

Maybe it will bring a smile to family and friends when they think of me should I depart this world before them.

from marriages/relationship’s are exactly that. They are not yours and that, dear readers is the truth. There are occasions where step parent(s) do make the effort to treat them with kindness and instill some sense of family whether they live with them or during visitation. Facebook is full of “concerned” step parents who bemoan about the terrible parenting skills of the biological. They parade their ready made family across the timeline like a constant breeze. Trouble is…it reeks of garbage in a lot of instances. If it isn’t plastered on facebook, then it is a regular topic at work or whatever social / religious circles you frequent.

I listen and I watch. Those that talk about other people’s children are 10 out of 10 times speaking negatively against what the child does and dovetails it with the other parent being at fault. The child is cast into a shadow of gray and so becomes part of “the problem”. Just this week I heard the term “…my **#t head kid…” when they ARE NOT theirs, but rather the spouse’s. So far, every snippet of conversation has been on the shortcomings of parenting (not from the spouse) and how the child is this or that, always lacking.

Something else…even if you try to be the concerned, loving, great step parent and have a child of your own with current spouse don’t be fooled into thinking that your preference to your own doesn’t show through. I can absolutely say that I have been a witness to it happening. That little blood borne darling is yours. I’m honing in on the mamas especially, because for whatever reason, females seem to have this innate need to tear other women’s children down; even more so if they are married to the father. There is one particular child at the moment I’m feeling sorry for even though I’ve never laid eyes upon them. I know what the step mother is like in an adult setting and can only imagine what she puts the kid through.

I write from what I see. I don’t see the heart, but I do see the looks, actions, and tell-tale signs that all point to my posting. I stand by it even if you don’t agree because it is my experience.

The kindest thing would be to keep your opinions to yourself. The child already knows you dislike them, as children are not stupid. The stupid ones are adults trying to pretend that they have a ‘real’ family when in reality it is only one that is built upon broken promises and dissatisfaction. Throwing children of other people into your SELF CENTERED PLAN of ‘family’ usually leads to a recipe that leaves a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.

 Dear “…my **8t head kid…”, I hope things get better for you.

 

do not wash out dog dishes,  do not think to throw paper plates upside down in the trash so the food is not open-faced for the next person to view the remains. They will always manage to take something new and turn it into a used object that sees less time than perhaps it could have with a bit of care.  There are those who will lick their fingers while making cookies each time they spoon dough onto the cookie sheet and laugh at other people’s misfortune of being adopted and raised by people who did nothing to teach them manners and restraint, who look at others as less than and do not want some to gain in material goods because to do so puts them ill at ease with themselves in some manner.

There are also people who cancel out all things above, practicing neatness, manners, and good will in these and other areas. 

Hope is still alive.  

Worker Bee…

June 13, 2017

Typing is my livelihood these days. Sitting eight to nine hours a day discovering people’s names, addresses, phone numbers, and other bits and pieces of their lives brings me a paycheck. If told I had to recall them and their information outside of the few minutes it takes to send it into “the system”, as I lovingly call it, I would be hard pressed. A blur of names and ages run across my eyes and fingers like lightening bugs on a hot Southern evening. Flitting and darting until the papers are finished and laid down only to pick up another set and repeat. The sterile manner in which I see this information is much like today’s society.  Removed from a Mayberry landscape where everyone knows when you sneeze to a screen where millions of words, numbers, and symbols pop up and join the cyber highway to …where? 

Personally, I like taking the slow backroads. You know, the two lanes where trees shade the car and all kinds of shadows hammer on the exterior as you drive leisurely by individual homes rather than  “little boxes” as the song says…and so on that note I tip my water to a slow summer…

 

my chair, a child’s stool where my arms rest on either leg as I type. My life is in re-adjustment at the moment. For eight months and one week the days have been forty hours. This is the third day into the 24 hours-are-mine-mode. This morning around ten a.m. the decision was made to stop by a local business that had advertised via the internet. No internet apps or calls it said. Stop by in person.

Walking into the cool metal building I was suddenly aware that four heads jerked up, staring as if I were an intruder in a jungle setting. The look on their faces and the feeling that permeated the air signaled DANGER, INTERLOPER, RRRRRRRR…just like an unhappy cat. While they continued to stare without a hint of smile on their lips or eyes, I asked were applications still being accepted. Scanning each face, my purpose was to let them know I was open to dealing with any of the four. One finally murmured, “Yeah, I think they are…” Someone walked across and pushed the application sheets and gave me a pen. My gut feeling indicated drama in this place. Setting down, the application was short, which was great considering I wanted to do this as fast as possible and skee-daddle. Not in a long time have I felt THAT much wariness from the female sector. You would’ve thought I’d asked could I date their boyfriend or husband. Which would’ve been hilarious since I could be their mother for sure, probably one or two, their GRANDmothers.

After squinting to read the sections, (no way was I going back to my car for glasses) thankfully a male walked in and standing up, I offered the application into his hand with his response of, ” I’ll give it to him”…I thanked him, opened the door and exited the estrogen dominated chokehold.  

I think I heard a faint noise after the door closed…I’ll bet they have their own in-house shredders…if you know what I mean…RRRRRRR…

 

 

 

Warm Coats…

January 5, 2017

Were a given in childhood. Having no car we walked everywhere we went except for the occasional bus or taxicab ride…and whenever we rode with relatives. 

This year my ‘nice’ coat is being used. The coat was purchased six to eight years back and barely worn. I slipped it on one day and realized that it was a reminder of when my mother, sibling, and I traveled to and fro in our walkabout lives of yesteryear. A pretty fuchsia color with three large black buttons, it covers me well from the cold and wind as I make my way across parking lots from my car to varied buildings and purposes. As a child/teen, our coats were bought by Mama. J.C. Penney’s and Sears and Roebuck were the usual stores. Once, my father bought me one from Magic Mart. The only coat he ever purchased for me. I still remember it to this day. Brown with fur (synthetic?) around the collar, enlongated buttons instead of round, with little loops to fasten them.

Mama was the constant of everything in our lives including our coats. 

She made sure they fit and were well made, knowing they would need to shield us from the winter bite. Mittens, gloves, and hats were also purchased with money that she earned. We were a little family with limited resources, but it was never a question whether or not we would be properly attired for the winter. Mama did it. Without a coat drive, without a GoFundMe page, without a newsmedia story, without a sob story to co-workers…she did it with resolve…that came from God…and He ALWAYS MADE A WAY. 

I long for those days. Days of discipline and order. Days when people like my mother knew how to do things and did not relinquish to ‘experts’ on every single aspect of their lives. I long for them more and more. 

My coat keeps me warm…and so do the memories of my mother’s love…not through empty words, but through deeds. 

The End Is Near…

December 26, 2016

and a new year is upon us. The past couple weeks have brought opportunity for the ending of some situations/people that have been in my life for a while. One is no longer there and with it comes an understanding that I cannot go against the nature of people. This  part applies to both people but within different situations. One is still around in a different context…and unless the laws of nature are either kind or cruel, depending upon how you look at it, it is most likely not a lengthy stay. Understanding to let go of what others do and think and let them be who they are has been a light in my soul. It does not mean that I don’t wonder about how or why they think and do what they do. For me it means that it is no longer my self-imposed burden to figure this out. Certainly I ponder, but it is so much easier to let go and just accept that no matter what I think they are within their own world and that is the only place they can be. We are all in the same boat. Going through life in our appointed times and plans until we are taken into the next realm. No one walks the same path. Someone told me  that we must all follow our own path…and I think they are right. We cannot follow another one, as I truly believe it is all laid out. Both time and chance happen, as the Bible states, but…we are mortals and the time and chance is that which God has ordained and knows about from the beginning. It is we who see through a glass darkly, not Him. We are as He has made us. Some will disagree with me on this and that is your own business to do so, but the Scriptures point this out from what I’ve read, but as I always say, search them for yourself. 

These things have put me on a new course for the coming year. Seeing what things lie in store for me in this season of my life. Knowing that it is not a selfish thing to do so, because I am really all I have in terms of my life. No one, no matter how much I love them can do anything for me to the point of figuring our my life. It is a personal thing. Many years I allowed myself to be tossed to and fro from the opinions and expectations of others. When I realized what had happened it was too late. For my youth. Not all things were bad, but oh how much gain would I have now in matters if I’d had the confidence to step up and out and do some things I wanted? I’ll never know in this world. And then I think…He knows it all. He made me as I am. I am here today typing these words to let both myself and you know that God is in control. 

 In truth, I have no idea if I would’ve been better off if I had done one thing differently, but I know that it is a strong feeling that God has been with me every step of the way. Through loneliness, anger, despair, unthankful, without faith, and every other emotion and actions that humans have. 

I’m looking ahead now. In hope, in faith, and most of all, knowing that God knows it all, from beginning to end with my life. And I accept that. 

Hoping each one has a safe and Happy New Year.

The Correct Tools..

December 15, 2016

Can make all the difference in life. Whether in housework, love, or career the availability and use of them can make things go a lot smoother. 

For years I’ve hated mopping floors. Each time, I’d always think…need to buy one.Three weeks ago on impulse I bought one. The model is plastic in every sense, but my outlook has changed dramatically. The first time I put the mop head in the wringer and did the twist the world of floors became less dreadful for me. To think I wasted all that time just because I didn’t go ahead and make the purchase. 

Love is a bit trickier than floors. You cannot purchase something that will instantly make you successful in this area.  Love comes from an intimate place, one that is personal and unique to every individual. There are things that can help you move towards it in the form of being friendly and open with those to whom you would like to love whether in friendships or romantic notions. You can use these ‘tools’ to further your chances in this area.

Tools are essential for careers in the sense of responsibility, drive, direction, cooperation, and integrity . Integrity is a tool because it is a self-instilled action that will reflect overall results in one’s  business whether as employee or employer. 

Having the correct tools can make all the difference, whether in our personal world or the world in general.  Lets learn to acquire the right tools and utilize them to build the best of both worlds.