"Take Two Truths and Call Me in the Morning"

A book written by Psychiatrist, Gordon Livingston,

sounds interesting and a good read about life in general.

Thought this worth sharing~

To quote from an article in the Washington Post,

"We are not what we think, or what we say, or how we feel. We are what we do. Conversely, in judging other people we might need to pay attention not to what they promise but how they behave.....we are drowning in words, many of which turn out to be lies we tell ourselves or others."

The key to happiness, he argues, is looking at your life not as it should be but as it is. Only then, can you plan your future. So many of his essay titles are stripped of excuses or platitudes:

~ "The statute of limitations has expired on most of our childhood traumas."

~ "Any relationship is under the control of the person who cares the least."

~ "Our greatest strengths are also our greatest weaknesses."

~ "Only bad things happen quickly."

~ "The problems of the elderly are frequently serious but seldom interesting."

Stimulating thoughts, don't you agree?

iJune

Amanda Lee~ A GREAT GRANDMOTHER

My great grandmother was a Woman of Independent Means. She was born September 27, 1837 in the state of Virginia. For sure, she grew up being treated with excessive indulgence. As a teenager, she threw out tradition by driving her own buggy. No doubt, her father gave in to this precocious and head-strong young woman. She grew up to demand that indulgence from all.

Her desire was to care for and cure suffering. The year she was 18, she had been educated in medicine enough to be a Doctor...as much as was required for that day. (Standards and licenses for Doctors wasn't established for another 50 years.)

She was intrigued with stories about Texas and that became her goal. She wanted nothing more than to live in Texas and practice medicine.

Reluctantly, her father arranged for her to join friends on a Wagon Train bound for South Texas. The route took them through Tuscaloosa, Alabama where they encounter a situation that would change her life forever.

A wheel on one wagon needed repair before they could continue. The entire wagon train had to wait. While waiting for the repair, their Wagon Master became ill. The illness dragged on weeks and then months. The stranded Texas bound families began to look for land in that area. It is said that most of them stayed while a few waited to join the next wagon train going to Texas.

During this time, young Amanda spread her wings to check the countryside. She had, of course, brought her personal buggy and horse from Virginia and totally confident to venture out alone. One day, while traveling through the narrow dirt roads in her buggy, she caught the eye of George W. Richards.

Her buggy was a beautiful solid black buggy pulled by a very nice black horse. *

The story goes that on a sunny afternoon Amanda went for a ride. It is said, she was quite a site in her red bonnet, red gloves, and long dress that matched her very sharp looking black buggy. Driving along, around a curve stood three young men ahead. As she approached, she popped her whip which brought her horse to a quick trot. Speechless, they stepped aside and watched until she was out of site.

One of the young men let out a whistle and said, "Goodness gracious, there goes the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. One day, you wait and see, I'm going to marry her."

Her fate was to stay in Alabama forever.

Story to be continued~

June

* As a child, I actually saw her buggy. My cousin Clara and I were children playing around the out buildings at "the old home place." We were exploring and investigating when we opened the door to one of the sheds. There before our eyes appeared an amazing sight.
We were stopped in our tracks as there sat the finest carriage that our young eyes had ever seen.
The BEAUTY of the black buggy was magnified in contrast to the very simple plank shed housing the treasure. I can see it in my memory today. She and I for went to her mother for an answer. Aunt Ida's was in her kitchen. Being so young, we were satisfied with her answer, "Oh, that's Grandma's buggy."

Betty's Thanksgiving Tablecloth

I knew Betty years ago.

She was a lady who was easy to be around. Always soft-spoken, gracious and kind. She entertained with ease...the perfect hostess you could say.

Betty was about my mother's age. Each time we had the pleasure to be invited into her home, there was something new to learn from her.

I love personal style~and for Betty, it was a talent for entertaining with flare by creating the most interesting and thoughtful surprises for her guests.

I will never forget one visit that fell just before a Thanksgiving.

She invited a group of us in for Bridge. During the afternoon, the converstation naturally centered around Thanksgiving traditions.

Betty told us about her treasured Thanksgiving Tablecloth.

~IT WAS BRILLANT~

Years before, she had invited her guests to sign her tablecloth. During the year, she embroidered their signatures to create her Thanksgiving Tablecloth.

This was repeated year after year and soon guests were vying for a spot to sign.

Can you imagine what a conversation piece this must be?

Realizing I could never match her personal style, but I could have a

Thanksgiving Tablecloth.

Betty's Tablecloth lives somewhere on my list

of projects I never got around to~

June

Fabulous Costumes~It's CARNAVAL in Rio

Photos just sent to me from friends we knew from Brazil

Carnaval is a beautiful event ~ here are a few photos of costumes dancing through the streets of Rio.
They work all year for this event and fabulous creations.

Mardi Gras, Known as Carnaval in Rio

Today is "Fat Tuesday" ~ Fat Tuesday is Mardi Gras,

the festival New Orleans, Louisiana,

is famous for.

"Gras" is French for fat and "Mardi" is French for Tuesday.

The most joyously unrestrained celebration is held in Rio de Janerio, Brazil. Their celebration is call "Carnaval."

We were lucky enough to take our children to see this when we lived there.

For two centuries it has been an annual event, except during the two World Wars.

Orphanage In Brazil

When we were living in Brazil, our travel and social schedule was hectic. When free time finally became available,
I wanted to see be part of everything. When asked if I would like to visit one of the orpahages that was not too far from Brasilia, I jumped at the opportunity.

The first day for me to visist this little outpost felt rewarding yet bewildering. The children seemed only curious about the four of us. Even though we had brought toys and smiles, their little faces didn't change. They held onto their fixed sad face. They didn't even smiIe as we handed them a toy.
Their sad little faces seemed to be the only look they knew.
I couldn't help but wonder if our presence made them insecure in some way. I couldn't assess what they were thinking. Was it that they never had visitors and didn't know what to expect? Maybe they knew what I didn't know at the time ~ the toys would only be collected after we left. Being glad and happy didn't seem to be a part of their world.

Two slight built and no doubt over-worked nuns lived there with the 20 or so children. As you can see, they were dressed in regular clothes. They were soft spoken and kept their distance. No one met us as to be in charge. We were allowed to mingle and go where we pleased. This was my first time ever to visit an orphanage. Didn't take long to know it wouldn't be my last.


I fell in love with the little girl you see sitting on my lap. She was the most beautiful child I had ever, ever seen.

Each visit was basically only to take toys and socialize with the little ones. All they wanted was to be near, be held and perhaps snatch a brief moment of love.
The little girl on my lap had an ear full of drainage from an untreated ear infection. It was easy to want to whisk away these children and make their lives better. My love for this little girl soon overwhelmed me to the point of seriously wanting to adopt her. To my great disappointment, there was a mother somewhere in the picture making her unavailable to be adopted.
That didn't keep me from driving the 70 kms out of Brazila when possible to take things, visit all and hold that little girl.

Toys taken one week would not be there the following week. When I asked the nuns about this, was met with silence. We learned not to ask about this, as the toys were always sold.
Wash day was everyday for all these children. A couple of tubs outside for this task and hang clothes on barbed-wire clothes lines. Clothes pins would have been a luxery for this place. She is using the fence and bike as well.

One day when walking through the one large room where the children slept and stayed if not outside. The room had rows and rows of little beds.

In a far courner was a little boy on his bed apparently sleeping this mid-afternoon. A closer look told me he wasn't well. A touch told me his fever was extreme. He didn't respond at all. I guessed him to be about 6 or 7 years old. I always thought of my own children when I encountered the unknown illness...
and went immediately to the nun who was in the kitchen.

Did she know the child was very, very sick? Yes, she responded and kept on with her task. Can we get a doctor to see him? The doctor would be there on his routine rounds which was due in two weeks. "No, he can't wait," I said, "this child needs to be seen immediately."
She was calm and unmoved. "Can't we have the doctor come to see him now?"
She explained he had a schedule and only came once a month.

Here I was, interjecting my own culture into the world they knew. When I realized the woman was doing as well as she could, I returned to the child

to assess him more closely. For sure, he was in very serious condition. I wanted to scoop him up and take him with me to the Embassy Doctor, but knew this would not be acceptable. There was no choice but to leave him there. In my heart, I desperately wanted to help this little guy.

I thought of our own doctor.

The 70 kms went quickly as I drove to the American Embassy and into the medical clinic.. "What can we do?" The answer was 'nothing.' To interfer could even cause an International incident. To take and administer medicine was ill-advised. I was to stand down and do nothing. Was too late in the afternoon to return and with nothing to do. I went home...to ponder and think of how awful poverty is in this world.

I wish I had taken that advise in full and stayed home the next day, but no...as soon as my children were on their school bus, I was on my way to do what I could for this little boy who was dying all alone in this room. It hurt to know no one was there with him...no one to wash his face and care for him. No one to love him.

When I drove up to the orphanage, the children were scattered here and there. I walked straight to the little boys bed. My heart sank ...the bed empty....it was made up all neat and orderly. Children had followed me into the building and now looking up at me with those big eyes. No one smiled...not even me.
I picked up my little girl and they all followed me outside to sit in the sun.


iJune

"Mom Jeans"

What an insult~

The Fashion Designers have given a name to descent looking blue jeans.

Our classis denim jeans...the ones

that come up to a properly cinched waist now have a name~

they are now known as

"Mom Jeans"?

Am told Mom Jeans or any slacks that isn't a 'hip hugger' are totally out of style.

The fashion designers are saying that by cutting 3 or so inches from the top of the pants to place it down on the hip,

gives the illusion our bottom ends there.

Making the look of a

much smaller bottom.

~THEY HAVE TO BE KIDDING~How stupid do they think we are?

They have only created the 'Muffin Top.'

"Muffin Top"

is the name for the flab of an oversized waist that hangs over the top of the in style jeans.

When we see this, are we supposed to still

think this person has a small bottom?

GIVE ME A BREAK.

I know, there isn't anything else to buy.

My answer is Muffin Tops could wear a long shirt to cover the unattractive

mid section instead of tattooing.

Do you agree?

iJune