This is important. While self defense important, if we can realize the signs before the heat of the moment, maybe we can bypass it altogether, make better choices, and live safer.
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair…
We blame the witch. The witch was wicked. Right? Looking a little closer, the witch MAYBE knew that the poor man and his wife couldn’t take care of her good enough in the plight of the period of that day and age. She raised her, but when she became old enough, locked her away. We always take it that the witch was mean and cruel. Was she? Despite her attempts, the young prince found Rapunzel and she got pregnant. We all know the end, the witch died and the prince found his love and his children and they all lived happily ever after.
Here we go.
I’ve been thinking about this fairy tale this morning. Fairy tales. Are they a moral with a twist? Why?
My thoughts lately have been on a teen that lost her life to an abusive boy/girl relationship. The girl was protected from the boy, and went with him anyway, we have a frustrated parent, who lifted her hand of protection, because the girl was running despite the protection. My heart goes out to this parent who lost her child. Who has not had a rebellious teen and has let up, frustrated.
I cannot underline this enough. Get the child away. Children/teens are too young to know things, they need their parents to protect them. If the child sneaks off, be the witch. Your child will hate you, but they will remain alive.
I may be off the wall in this. This is my opinion this morning. I am still reeling from this senseless death. Please note, my children are grown, I admit to probably not doing the best job, but apparently I taught them well enough, or we were just lucky.
No answers. Just sadness.
Today is National Apple Pie Day, I learned from the morning news, as I also watched Mr. Food’s Howard create Pineapple Honey Salad Dressing (Mmm…it’s so good!).
Why do we need national food celebration days? Every single day is devoted to a national holiday of some kind, have you noticed that? Is humanity THAT NEEDY, that we are ISO something better from every single day?
In my own personal walk, trying to ground myself, I stepped into previous writings ISO myself a little bit more. Turning the inside out!
A dear friend shared a message with me a few years ago. I recorded it. I refer to it. “You have the right to be who you are. Stop apologizing for being you. Stop trying to earn what is already yours. You have earned this incarnation, so live it with integrity and fullness. The mountain does not apologize, nor does it seek approval. It simply is what it is. Be what you are. Your soul know its way.”
Delve deep, go inside. If you don’t meditate, or cannot meditate, pick your own way. Art, music, writing. Or go out of doors and stand in the grass to greet the earth and nature. Breathe deep. Grow the your flower inside of you, a rose of beauty.
Emerson writes: The inner world of imagination becomes a sanctuary of hope and promise, a place of retreat for feelings and thoughts, where seeds of individuality and creativity incubate.
Now, isn’t that tastier than that $75 cup of coffee from beans from Panama? Easier to obtain, but you do have to open the earth of your heart and soul, and bravely explore.
Plastic. It’s ruining our earth. It’s ruining our lives! Now, you are looking at a woman who is not into recycling, shame on me. I have grown. I am starting to realize, with the looks of our Mother Earth, the impact of plasti-trash on our environment.
It’s fantastic that the government is banning plastic bags in our grocery stores. BUT, and here is the big BUT, what about the rest of it?
I looked in my own very personal grocery cart, and I placed in grape tomatoes from Chili. I actually found, to my delight, romaine lettuce that was un-plastic bagged! I put them in my newly purchased organic cotton mesh bag.
I bought paper straws at Dollar General. I had to cave and buy my grands plastic buckets for Easter baskets, but made sure they are multipurpose baskets, they can store socks or toys in the mini-wash baskets.
It’s not enough, folks. We have to do more. We have to learn how to grow our own. We have to stop buying things in plastic. Whatever happened to the cardboard berry cartons? Yes, it’s paper, but that paper has been grown specifically for that purpose.
Let’s do it!
Midge ready to go out on the town.
Boyfriend Alan is ready!
“Do I look alright?”
Midge rolls her eyes. “It’ll do,” she sighs.
Typical male, huh?
Meanwhile Suzette is dressed to kill when Ken swings by
And Cousin Francie gets ready for her girl gig
From the Very Young at Heart
“I will never be able to marry Peter Tork now,” were the words that climbed out of my brain and through the process of thought.
Why did I think that? I am a 62 year old woman now. Those are the thoughts of the sweet pre-teen, as she teeny-bopped her way into the world to become the teen, and a child with lights in her eyes, and hope in her heart.
The truth is, I’m really not as old as I look. I’m still 13. I’m still 14. I still have those wishful thoughts, the brightness in my mind’s eye, of a life that is idealistic and full of hope.
The days of youth–the crush on the latest star of television, watching The Dating Game, The Newlywed Game, all with dreams in our eyes. The beautiful face of youth, the beehive hairdo and the thick eyelashes only made by Maybelline or Max Factor.
Songs that brought us daydreams by The Seekers, The Beach Boys, The Everly Brothers. Ryan O’Neal and Ali McGraw’s eternal vow that Love means you never have to say you’re sorry.
We all were going to go to California and walk the streets of San Francisco. Become a beach baby and, like Annette Funicello, have our Frankie fall in love with us.
The young girls’ dream. Of convertibles, sunshine, movie stars, and living happily ever after.
Well, I have made to the living and the happily ever after is right where it’s at, even though I still have my young girl’s dream.
I live among control freaks. I should know better. I should study my notes more: Glasser, Jung, Szondi, and a little bit of Freud. I throw Freud in only because he was mentioned in articles so I didn’t feel it wise to throw him OUT.
I don’t even need to tell you why I am writing, you can read it all here, Eudora Welty explained it very well in the short story, “Why I Live at the P.O.” This was originally published in 1941.
So the next time you think you have no control, comfort yourself with these words. And smile.