About Me

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Hi there and welcome to my blog. I am a married 60 year old woman who still has the mind of a twenty year old. I have three children and two grandsons. I've been to hell and back each time stronger than the time before. If I can help you then it was all worth it.

Saturday, July 13, 2019

Seems Normal Enough

Our family used to go visit my mom's Aunt and Step Uncle. We all lived in the same town making it easy to cross town to visit every day if we wanted. One of their neighbors down the street had a pool giving us permission to go swimming when we went over there. We went over there a lot bringing our towels often staying the whole day.


I remember my Aunt's dad being this tall man with really gnarled knuckles. When I asked him about it he told me they were full of arthritis. I was around eight years old when he took to his death bed. The family was all there circling him around his bed. I remember giving him a kiss on his withered old cheek telling him good-bye. He didn't last too long after that.


Grandpa had willed his house to my mom's Aunt whom I also called Aunt. It was a large 2-bedroom home with a spare room which held this large piano. I had learned to play chopsticks on it. Kitchen, dining room, hallway bathroom, and living room made up their home.


There was a door leading to an outdoor garage which my Aunt's cat would stop by to get fed taking off again as soon as it was done. Out in their backyard, my Uncle eventually planted lemon, grapefruit and tangerine trees. I was very interested in the growing process which my Step-Uncle taught me, later on, climbing the trees eating the fruit plucked right off the branch. Grapefruits for my endless diets. Lemons for that beautiful honey bleached long hair look. Tangerines to munch on.


Games of crochet, ping-pong, playing golf with those plastic golf balls which would often go sailing over their fence into their neighbor's yard was played on grass. The best thing was a big tortoise that slowly made its way around the backyard. It grew larger over the passing years. My Uncle actually did everything with a glass of Diet Tab and Vodka in his hand.


My Aunt liked to go get her hair done leaving for about a 2-hour hair session. She had the beehive look that was so popular back then. I thought it was an unnecessary amount of hairspray for just one hairdo. She loved it.


That would leave me and my Uncle alone. To Be Continued...


#newblogger#childabuse




Friday, July 12, 2019

Vacation Time

I got a call from my son who lives in Texas. He was on his way to work. He knows my husband and I have been saving money to buy 2 plane tickets to fly out to see his family. He also knew that I would love it if I could see Ariel at the same time thus killing two birds with one stone. I told his sister, she told my son. I love family grapevines.


He has this new job his childhood friend who now also lives in Texas helped him with they are sending him and my daughter-in-law to Mexico for a few days! I couldn't believe my ears. When my kids were growing up I would often tell the tale of my Mexico adventures. I was thrilled.

 

The plan is we all fly out to Texas visiting my son, daughter, and daughter-in-law. They leave for their Mexico trip. We all get to babysit the boys! I can't wait! I've been eyeing on Facebook the pool they swim in. Grandma wants to try those pool boys!
This time around I'm taking my dresses. Last year when I flew out to see my daughter my clothes were all too hot. I will be better prepared this time!

#longdistancegrandma#visitinggrandsons

What makes you happy?

Being A Sagittarius

Looking back at my life I am amazed that I'm still here. I have read that being a Sagittarius; Jupiter pays special attention to his Sagittarius children protecting them from themselves. Kinda reminds me of a small child falling down and daddy dusting you off sending you on your way.

 Then there is your Guardian Angel beaming down on you protectively. You can find out what your Spirit Animal is which mine is a Skunk. I found this out in a dream I had one night. All through it was skunks everywhere and when I went to look up the meaning I was well satisfied. The meaning was so like me I was so impressed. No one likes messing with a skunk!

Okay, you can joke now:)

Then there is the theory that God's not done with me yet and I have many more lives to touch and more people to touch mine.

 I am Spiritual and am very sensitive to other people's emotions and have learned to protect myself from being overwhelmed by negative behavior.

I believe in Karma and Past Lives. I love Magic and Mystic.
I have had a ton of fun so far life hasn't been boring.

We will see if anyone can relate to my story and if you can't that's fine too. Just remember, its all in how you handle it.


#beingasagittarius#newblogger

Thursday, July 11, 2019

Papa Don't Touch

I grew up in  California. I lived there until 1983. Carpenters and mechanics run on my side of the family. As I grew up my father added a porch, a brick bar-b-cue grill with flower planters on each side, a shed, a volleyball court, a clothesline, and oleanders to cut off our one-acre backyard. Behind them became a place for junk. My Dad loved grapes so we had a grapevine as well. I wish I had the pictures so I could show you but they were all lost. I was so sad. Memories mean everything to me.
*Sounds normal right?

My mother used to tell me all the time the story of how I came to be born: My mom had lost her Grandpa. She was very sad so my father consoled her. Nine months later I was born. My parents got married because that's what they did back in the '50s.
*So far so good right?

My earliest memory I have is when I was two or three years old. It was a very dark night. I was standing next to my mother who was driving in the front seat. She was yelling to my father to get in the car because they had just had a fight. He kept refusing and it was only when I cried out "daddy"! he finally got in the car.
*Things seem to be getting sketchy. 

I remember laying in the back seat at night and watching the street lights fly by which I still love, which later on I figured out mom was out getting dad from the whatever bar he was at. He, later on, stopped going.
*One for Mom!

For all the years I was growing up there was non-stop screaming and yelling, doors slamming and windows rattling. Mom and dad were always fighting. Her way was the right way no matter what. Dad would get pissed off and I would go outside. It was embarrassing hearing their yelling voices even though I was outside.

 It took me a long time to not be the same way learning how to talk things out without violence or screaming. But it was so ingrained and I was quick to anger.
As I grew older mom's mother, my grandma had to be committed. She had had a nervous breakdown. My grandpa had left her, she was 40 years old. She was finally released and put on medication.
*I loved my grandmother dearly.

Now, this isn't a "poor me" kind of story, rather it's about how my abuse unfolded.  My mother wasn't all bad. If I needed her she was right there. One of the things she insisted on was plucking my eyebrows which she pinned me up against her bathroom armed with tweezers. It's weird but that's how I still maintain my eyebrows. At 12 years old she was still washing my hair deciding what kind of hairdo she wanted me to have.
*I didn't like that at all.

I loved my dad. He was my hero. I'd go outside and watch him work on this car or that car. If he was working on his car I would caution him to be careful. I heard lots of hollering when either a tool would stick taking off half of his knuckle. Or if building something he would hit his thumb with a hammer.
*I tried not to laugh.

I didn't have many friends. My mother didn't have hardly any friends. We would go shopping bought and made me wear these frilly dresses with lacy socks that made my feet sweat. One day me, dad and mom were in J.C. Pennys. My mother and I were, as usual, arguing about clothes. Barging into my dressing room she made me try on this scratchy dress. I told her I wouldn't wear it. All of a sudden she snapped pulling that dress violently over my head scratching my face.  I came out of the dressing room, dad was not happy.
*Neither was I.

I wore white saddle shoes which I also hated mostly because no one else wore them. Finally, in the 6th grade, I would switch them out in our garage for tennis shoes which were way more comfortable. Being grounded was like a death sentence to me so I became very skilled at hiding the fact that this butterfly was coming out of her cocoon no matter what my poor mother did to smother it. I think because she had gotten pregnant with me is why she did what she smothered the crap out of me.
*I was learning to be sneaky.

Now we are getting down to the what the hell part of my story: Dad loved to fish. He would bring me to the Salton Sea with him setting up two poles in the sand sitting down in chairs. I loved it. he would explain the how-tos about fishing. I wouldn't touch the bait. Yuck! Smelly and slimy just wasn't my thing. That wasn't until later on.
I must have been seven or just eight because my brother hadn't been born yet. 

We were driving the long drive home and dad is talking about being uncomfortable loosening his belt which I really thought nothing of. I really don't remember the exact stuff he said but the gist of it was he wanted me to see him play with himself. We had parked by then and as he talked he had taken himself out. He told me that mom wouldn't understand, it was our secret which made me feel important. Plus mom made me so mad all the time it made me feel close to my daddy.*A loved one can get away with it.

We went home, I didn't say a word until I had a baby girl of my own I asked my dad on the phone why he had done that. I started to cry. I'm now disowned it's been over thirty-five years.
*How dare me.

#ChildAbuse#PapaDon'tTouch






















Photo by Cristian Palmer on Unsplash