Change Happens — Judgement is Optional

Reblogged from Anchors and Butterflies. Introducing my sister Phyllis’s new blog. Give it a read!

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                        butterfly beauty

 Enlightenment is evolutionary and my awareness is that we have to experience or dabble in many philosophies to ascend. So we’re all where we need to be – maybe there’s no urgency to push others to the consciousness level where we are. The element that is very difficult to shift out of is judgement (which is really only perception) that makes us so passionate to keep others that we love in our space.

What if? … you choose new freedom ‘out of the box’ as a gift to give  yourself, but it doesn’t fit those you love so much – at this time?

What if? …  others you love are still in chrysalis stage and you have discovered and are trying out your wings? That doesn’t diminish the truth that all are part of the butterfly…

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Super Pooper

We had guests  My husband and I were in the kitchen getting coffee and dessert when we heard the couple laughing loudly.  We hurried back in the living room  to find our ten year-old-son had decided to pull a stunt. On a dare, he’d come walking out in front of the guests clad only in his briefs and socks.  He was a big kid, way beyond the point  to expect this.

Shocked, his dad spouted, “”Boy, are you nuts?  Go get your clothes on!”

As he turned to go, he waddled.  The woman exclaimed “Oh my God!”  He had packed a gargantuan lump of Playdoh  (afterwards known as Play Dooky) in the back of his briefs.  It looked liked he’d been holding it for about a week.   Then he reached back and pulled it out to show us, like a prize.  If I’d been offered retro-active birth control, he’d have disappeared then and there.

Instrument of Torture

I grew up way back in the 1950s and 1960s before the days of “Time Outs.”  I think I would have loved time out.  My parents had five wild kids.  They were partial to the time-   honored switch and belt system.  If Mother wasn’t too serious about the point she was making, she was fairly likely to pull the plastic fly swat off the nail by the stove and give us Continue reading

Joke

A hiker falling off a cliff a grabbed a tree on his way down but was unable to climb back up.  He dangled hundreds of feet above the canyon floor below.  As the tree roots started to pull away from the wall of the cliff, he screamed.  “Help! Is there anyone up there?  Somebody help me, please!”

A loud voice boomed, ” Do not be afraid! Turn loose my son, I will save you!”

Timidly, the hiker asked, “Who is that?”

“It’s the Lord!”

“Help! Help!  Is anyone else up there?”

Tossin’ in the Coffin

tombstoneWhen I was a kid, I was fortunate enough to get to go to the funeral of my Uncle Ben. I had very little interest in and had wasted no affection on him, but did appreciate getting the honor of being a “member of the family” at the funeral.

I was knowledgeable now about the ways of the world and looked forward to the ride to the graveside service. At the time, it was the custom for the mourners to follow the hearse holding the guest of honor in a very, very slow procession from the church to the gravesite. As we proceeded, oncoming traffic pulled over as a gesture of respect to the deceased. I tried to put on a tragic face as I proudly looked out the windows at all those unfortunate enough not to be in mourning.

Green carpeting draped the mounds of dirt surrounding the grave. A few chairs were reserved for chief mourners. As we all gathered respectfully around the coffin, Brother Bond read a few bible verses, and spoke glowingly of the deceased. It was clear, he didn’t know Uncle Ben like we did, but nobody corrected him. At the close of the brief service, my six uncles serving as pall-bearers prepared the coffin for its descent into the grave, never suspecting the gravediggers had overestimated the size of the grave needed and draped carpeting over their miscalculation. As they somberly approached the coffin, three of the six pall-bearers stepped on the carpet-draped hole and tumbled into the grave along with the open coffin. Uncle Ben joined them as they rolled around in the red clay at the bottom of the grave, but only the pall-bearers clambered out. I was fascinated to learn that bodies are buried with their suits split up the back. All in all it was great afternoon. I’ve always thought more warmly of Uncle Ben since then.

It’s Snot What You Think

Snotty girl0004Illustration by Kathleen Swain

Unless you’ve been cursed with a prissy, goody-two-shoes older sister, you couldn’t possibly appreciate this, so just go on with whatever you were doing. If you want to commiserate, jump right in. Phyllis was three years older than I. This put her just far enough ahead of me that all the teachers and Sunday School teachers were still raving Continue reading

Buzzy and His Hand-Me-Down Precious

Buzzy and BabyOne of the best things about our little dog Buzzy is that he loves everything we do, just as long as he can be in the middle of it.  At home or camping, he makes every step we make, doesn’t miss a sight, When we are packing our trailer, he makes every trip, just to make sure we don’t slip off without him.  He is so relieved when he sees up pack his food, snacks,  Precious Baby, and leash, but doesn’t totally relax until he gets his leash on and gets to hop in the back seat of the truck.  In the picture above, you can see him settling in the first at night at camp with his Precious. When he gets tired, he bites down on its nose to relax, just like a baby with a pacifier.  This particular baby has been handed down to him through two previous owners, both American Eskimo dogs, just like him.  I assure you, he’d never have been allowed possession of it if either of them were still around.

He wrote it down.

Reblogged from In Others Words

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Our intention was to dance on his grave.

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My beautiful cousin, who I’d not seen in 35 years, and I set out to dance on our grandfather’s grave. Our first dilemma was, of course, song choice. You have to have the right song. We bandied a few song titles about, Alanis Morrisette was a front runner.

Obviously.

We drove to the town where he lived, and where he is buried. We drove to the town where we were abused. Driving down the picturesque New England roads, I felt a little faint. Mary felt a little barfy. We pulled into a store parking lot, and Mary spent some quality time behind a dumpster, hurling. It happens.

We weren’t entirely sure where the cemetery was, so we pulled into a police station to ask for directions. I said, jokingly, We should go in and file a police report. Mary said, What would…

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Some Things Won’t Be Forgiven

thR5372XT3A harried mother came to the urgent care center where I was working her five-year old-boy wearing nothing but a sheet and a frown.  He was obviously unhappy with his mother and in distress. I assessed him and asked him the problem. 

“I’ve got this big hard piece of tape stuck on the end of my pecker and it won’t come off.  She’s had me sitting in the bathtub all morning, and it ain’t come off yet!”  With this he shot her a murderous look.  She explained he’d had a circumcision recently and the dressing was still clinging stubbornly.

He broke back in furiously, “I told you I didn’t want no surgery!  Ever’thin’ was workin’ just fine till you hired somebody to whittle on me!”

I wasn’t getting in that family fight!