No one, why?

Who is your favorite historical figure?

Well, as it turns out, through the annals of time, it lets everyone’s secrets out. I mean , let’s pick Mother Theresa. It has been shown that more people died painfully under her care due to the fact she just wanted converts to the Catholic philosophy.  Schindler, well, he was never honest and was quite the crook. Lincoln was more driven by patriotic ferver and a preference of one nation than it was about human rights. Linburg was a rabid racist who believed in eugenics. Tesla was a brilliant nutbag of mixed veriteties. Most philosophy heroes held some really messed up beliefs as well. Now, I do believe that it is better to pick certain attributes of people than actual people. We, as species, all have our dramas and traumas. They affect everything.  So I can not pick a single one. We live in a society that is influenced by AI, who knows what will be said of us besides the fact that we are leaving an indelible mark. One that will not be ever be fully erased unless we encounter another Carrington event ( a flare from the sun that overloads and wipes out life on this planet as we know it now). I say we need the kindness to treat one another. Treat them with the same live and let live attitude. Not pointing fingers or weapons at each other. Keeping our side of the street clean, worrying about what we leave behind. Stop emotionally devastating each other for hell of it. So no, there is not one person who I could with a clear conscious could point to and say I look up to them, especially when given the truth.

Well, I don’t.

How do you want to retire?

I don’t want to. I want to live my life. I spent so many years being strapped to prescriptions, internal pain, and external pain that now that I have finally finished that part of my journey, I don’t.  Not even close, I finally feel that time was my job. I am working on being happy and dog mom. I have been reborn. So never will I retire after the hard road I traveled. 

Eyeore, the donkey.

How do you feel about cold weather?

I love it. There is zero doubt in my mind this character embodies how I feel about it. It is not a scathing depiction, saying he was depressed. I believe he had reached the stage of zen. Nothing was going to detract him from his sorrow over his tail. His dedication to that one task, caused him to disappear from people’s lives. To the piont he was sought after. They found peace with him just sitting there. Forever looking for his tail and trying so hard not to get caught up in the drama of the hundred acre wood. Whether it was the hurmphlumps and / or weasels. The favorite honey pot, I believe. That a bit of Eyores inmovability was quite admirable.  So I love cold weather because it reminds all of us to slow down. To admire the summer and dream of spring. That’s my association’s with the cold weather

A small change

What’s one small improvement you can make in your life?

Well, it would be to stop everything and admire something or someone. No expectations on anything. To literally just in a moment of admiration  for something someone, a bird flying past. A  simple reaction  a fleeting moment. I have found it can bring peace to my soul, hopefully it helps you as well.

John Stanley…

Share a story about someone who had a positive impact on your life.

He wasn’t related by birth but by choice. He was my best friend. He was my grandmother’s second husband. He was an Airman who was part of the Datalous project, for those who don’t know, it’s the early space program.  He was the kindest person in the world. The positive impact he had on me is truly beyond measure.  So many ways. When I was under 5, we moved away from him. It truly devastated me.  Yet late Christmas Eve, I snuck out to see if Santa had come. I heard him, swaring, “Damn it, I just knocked my knuckles.” I was jumping up and down. My Pa, my best friend was Santa Clause. My little self, was wondering how could he not be tired. I vaguely remember our conversation about I asked him, how he was even awake, he asked me what I ment.  I basically asked him how he could deliver all the presents and still be here at the house so early.  He realized what I was talking about.  He told me in a hushed tone that he wasn’t Santa he was his helper. I was also the only one he went to Disney World with. He was my private cheerleader.  My wise guru. I miss that man so much. Ironically, he died sometime Christmas night in 2014. I like to tell myself he went to the North Pole to keep working for Santa. I miss that man.

Gardening and being in the dirt.

When do you feel most productive?

My most productive feeling is from clearing an area for flowers and food plants. I  allow myself to cry even as I dig. I have calluses on my hands from it. I have bruises on my legs from it. Yet, as I watch my plants come up and bear flowers or fruits, I feel a satisfaction that is beyond understanding.  Yes, digging up grass and planting canalope is so satisfying to me. It’s the closest I feel to the universe or G-d. I could not ask for a better connection. Seeing the worms knowing my preparation of the soil was worth it. It also allows me to know my plants will be well taken care of.  I take notice of the ants, flying insects, and in ground ones as well. Seeing a centipede allows me to know that the environment is good. I leave the dandelions till they lose all their fluff. I know the bees will bypass flowers just to grab some nectar from those. They love them. I am also aware the bees are coming back, but that doesn’t lessen my satisfaction from knowing I am allowing the world to flourish around me. Making sure that the weeds don’t choke out my plants. Edible flowers and plants are my second favorite things in the world. I make sure to have mint, rosemary, and sage to keep the flies away from my porch. I grow other flowers for tea and aches and pain. Nothing is greater time to me to watch my blueberries trun ripe. My grapes coming in. This year I went and got some trees. I still have to wait for two of them, the other 3 have leaves and are moving forward. I thing when I planted the other two I put them back into dormancy.  I know they are alive I scared the bark and they are still green. I have braided a tree so that there isn’t any part of it that doesn’t have leaves on it. Frome the ground up it is covered. As much as I interfere, it is the beauty of it all that keeps calling. The spring turn over this year has been quite a back and forth. It is amazing to watch an experiment turn into something that others who see ask me about it.  Yes, I have prepared it, crying my eyes out with snot running down my face. I allow my sorrow and anger to fuel me to make sure the beds are properly prepared.  No roots of anything else and mixing the soil with the clay. I am in the Carolinas, so clay is a given.  That is when I feel accomplished,  even more than when I am harvesting my efforts. I have a few weeks until I can plant my root vegetables. By the end of this week my cantaloupe and watermelons will be going in. It is a pleasure and sometimes heartbreaking.  Yet the satisfaction is off the charts for me.

A movie, well, let me count the ways.

If you could be a character from a book or film, who would you be? Why?

It is a Meryl Streep character, before she went crazy of course. She plays a heroic soul. I was pre-teens when it came out. Any Gen X mind is clicking, right now. Sorry for that. Anyway, her role is this is just being a good soul. In a place called judgment city. Akin to our present-day legal system.  Everything is geared that way in the film. Defending your life. There is one line that sticks with me. It was a sister to the question of her actual death. As she covered her face, she stated it was embarrassing.  She tripped on a lawn chair and drowned. She proceeds to say, …”I’m also angry about it, I was a damn good swimmer.” Being as clutzy as I am. I totally related to that, and even more now, I have officially hit my 50s.  That is the one. I just want to arrive and not be ashamed.  I spent so much of my life lost and angry. I try every situation even ones that stress every alighted Chakra in my life to wink out, to walk away and treat myself with love so I can go back to the those same places once the storm passes.

I strive to be a good soul. To help when I can even it is helping someone or something leave. I know my side of the street better than most. I have made it a life mission. My messy days aren’t ever as messy as the past me, even if only a week old, handles it better than I did last time. My competition is me. I am behind others still cheering them on as they lap for the fourth time. I have no dillusions that we don’t all carry. I have learned that my little luch box may be smaller then others but I know bad shit happens and good shit happens too. So that’s my movie 🎬.  My heart will go forth light a feather. As I strive to be a good soul to me so I can more freely offer a hand to those behind.

Gardening

What activities do you lose yourself in?

Doesn’t matter the time of year either. I enjoy watching a plant grow into a new pot. I love shaping my plants. It isn’t about control. It’s about the touching of the soil. It’s about the studies that show plants communicate with each other. For me it’s all of that and the intangible feeling of witnessing life. I have lost a lot of money in this non stop obsession. 

Crazy amounts if counted over my 40-plus years of casual gardening.  Yet, on a bad day, nothing settles more easily than looking after my indoor jungle. I have lived all over the United States, both coasts and in the middle, as well. I have always enjoyed spring. Even when I have failed to keep them alive due to animal interference, misjudement of the amount of light, and even neglect. Which is just life being life. Plus I have been on a learning journey.  How long things will live is more important to me then looks.

No shame in my game, though. One thing I must say, that no one says out loud anyway. Is there are always a conflict with Gardners and our ability to realize that there are some plants that do not like the people who love them. Same with people, sometimes it’s a marriage made in hell.

Keep it to myself.

You get some great, amazingly fantastic news. What’s the first thing you do?

It’s amazing how much this question pinged something inside me. I learned with  the mother I have that sharing good news is never a good thing. First, it causes everyone, well not everyone but jealous people, a way too wantonly destroy it. When I was younger I was to old for my family to help with my college,  but my mother found out I went to the state championship for soccer and she ruined that for me. There were scout there too. Not to leave out how everything was down played.

I honestly have never gotten a genuine good response except from strangers.  People who don’t know me. I learned that much. Having grown up with and dealing with narcissistic family that good news is wasted, really. If there is a chance for the success being stripped from me or even actually creating problems and making the situation disappear, my mom is good for that. So many opportunities taken from me due to interference and maliciousness. If I think back on it it is rather sad. Yet, the answer remains the same. Keep it to myself. If anyone knows its because I said it in passing, no special announcement.

All everyone knows is that I am blessed and happy. Honestly, though, it keeps me within confines that I have constructed due to my treatment over the years. Where I can relish great news and never bother to need anyone there. Like this, I will answer these questions and place the answer on my blog. It is amazing to me that others even read it. I am hopeful that the trend continues.  I also have a story and half a book Noone has seen, the story is called Nyx and friends, if anyone is interested. My sister says my writing is not for children,  but that was my intent with that, but Noone has read it. But it is in the void that I began shouting. It is a good and private news I do have over double digits on people who receive updates. Anyway, enjoy your self, and be proud of yourself even if there is only a millimeter of difference between yesterday and today.

Damn, back in the day

Write about your first computer, was when..

Back in the day

Well, I got my first computer when my Grandma was upgrading in the late 90s. The 1990s. When AOL was a disk and everyone was on MySpace. I loved that site, Zuckerberg had it so we could have a meeting room and deny people access to it. It was easy, peezee. Just hit the deny button. So what if everyone in the room wanted the person to join? It didn’t matter. WHY? Cause the person who set it up had unalienable rights to say who joined and who didn’t. I had a dot printer. It was the wild days, kinda like the old west.

The machine took up an entire desk, only the rich had a portable computer, and even then, they were abnormally large, unsightly for sure. This was when we paid for ring tones. I only had a beeper. Which was a call back system. For a few months, I even indulged in the text of the Era. which meant I carried around a huge beeper and could only text with others who had one and receive a number to call if they didn’t.

I remember floppy disks. I had one of those as well and hard disks. I also dealt with faxes coming over the phone line. The same ones were used for the regular phone. I don’t have a problem with it. All the information is a great boon. Technically, we are walking, little gs of G-d. Meaning that even that there really is zero way of keeping a secret anymore. What to know a flow rate, use Google or Suri. Despite the other implications of every single person is almost connected to the internet in some form or fashion. Damn my age is showing again.