Streetwalker? Be Careful What You Say!

     I have made some incredible friends in Bloggy Land an' on the internet, in general.  So many of you have found your own place in my heart.  We have, as a world-wide neighborhood, built an alliance that rivals any I've ever heard about. An' to think, I could never have met most of you, without the invention of blogs.  Thank you all for opening your worlds an' your hearts to me.

::A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE FROM ALL OF US TO WHOEVER INVENTED BLOGS::

::Hip!  Hip!  Hooray!!!  Thank you, dear Blog Inventer::

     Like you, I have been privy to closely-guarded thoughts an' feelings.  With friendship comes an ever increasing sense of trust.  It is amazing to me that  this community can be so open an' loving.  We are indeed blessed to have the camaraderie that we share.

     Then, there is the dark-side of our world.  Some people hide their private lives in the anonymity of lovely words.  Until one day, those words are spoken that make both parties uncomfortable.  P'rhaps it has to do with political views.  Maybe religion steps up to drive a wedge of misunderstanding.  Or one person's past might be considered less-than-acceptable to the other an' when the truth comes out, there is suddenly a sense of uneasiness or embarrassment. Without understanding between the two, this sense of uncertainty could eventually separate people who had previously developed such affection an' devotion for each other.

     I always hope that I will never find myself in any of the aforementioned situations. If I do, however, I like to think that I have an open mind; that no one's history can plant the seed of judgement in my heart.  Again, I like to think that my reaction would be one of love an' acceptance for someone else's political views, religious persuasions or professional preference.  Prejudice is indeed a tough challenge for us all.  Are you beginning to get a feel for where this conversation is going?

     Naturally, we all hafta' face the demons of decision, eventually.  I faced one of my demons jus' two days ago, when a dear friend announced in casual conversation that she had chosen a profession that din't necessarily meet with my endorsement.

     She said, "I was a street walker for over ten years, the little blue shorts and all that.  My favorite job ever!!!"

     Talk about a Sucker-Punch!  How do you respond to that?  How would you?  Would this friendship suddenly become unacceptable?  Could you write back an' show real concern, while maintaining the close relationship that you have built-up, over time?  Or, would the knowledge of your friend's past profession be the wedge to guide your thoughts?  Would you read, delete an' walk away?  As you can see, I had many choices; many uncomfortable choices.  P'rhaps you would have felt differently, but I found myself swamped in thoughts of pure consternation; 'How do I react?  What is my responsibility in this conversation?  What if I choose to keep quiet?  Would my lack of response cause hurt feelings?  It was not an easy night for me.

     Highlighted below is a small part of our conversation, after the initial shocking declaration:
          [My words are highlighted in pink.  Hers are in yellow].

     Remember, she jus' finished saying, "I was a street walker for over ten years, the little blue shorts and all that.  My favorite job ever!!!"

     "Now, THAT sounds like a job you could really enjoy.  Not necessarily the healthiest job in the world or even, the safest.  But there is definitely a certain degree of fun involved.  Talk about loyalty to your job!  Whoa!  I only hope you don't tell [your hubby] that That was your favorite job.  I can't even imagine how that would destroy a man's ego.  Oh, vay!

     Being a street walker in the past is one thing, but that would definitely lose its appeal, over time, if you ask me.  I mean, picture it: sixteen kids, dirty dishes, dirty clothes an' sixteen guys waiting to 'Please' you?  Uuuuumm; thank you very much, but alla' my pleasures are running around, askin' for attention.  haha.  Nope!  Nope!  That would never work for me.  Nope!  I think I'll keep what I've got; thank you very much."

     "I am rolling!!!!  I was a city letter carrier with the blue uniform for the postal service!!!!!!!!!!!!  I do not think I would enjoy being an actual STREET WALKER!!!  It was my favorite job with the postal service.  To be outside and one on one with the customers.  Many days, my lunch break was spent sweeping the snow off someone's porch or helping them weed their flowers, or just talking in the shade with a cold drink of water."
      "I can't believe that!!!   You really can roll with the punches, you picked up that ball and carried it for a touch down.  I am still laughing!!!!!!  You are very wrong, though, I do not think I would enjoy that job at all!!!!  What would you do on your day off, stand up for a while????  Nope, don't think I could ever do that job!!!"

     My friend's next words let me know that I had failed neither her, nor myself.  "You did very well with your response.  Non-judgmental, supportive, and took it in stride as if I had told you I worked at Wal Mart.  You are a true, loving person...you made God proud."

     Being the sports addict that you all know I am, I soon sent a reply.  "I forgot to add that I don't think it can be considered a proper touchdown if I try to sink that football into the basket when I get it to the goal post.  I am still rolling on the floor in laughter."

     Which game did you say we are watching?  Football or basketball?

Note: I jus' received this update from my friend an' I'm passing it on to you:  "Street walker is my name for it, it wasn't a widely used term.  Someone asked me what I did one time, and I said I was a city carrier.   They asked, like Typhoid Mary?  I laughed and told them I was a street walker, instead of doing the males, I did the mail."

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.         

 ~ Yaya

I Brought the Sunshine!

     I need some sunshine.  I thought you might enjoy some, too.  So I'm sharing mine with you.


 Home, Sweet Home






Furry Family





Waiting for the birds





     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya

Dear Winter,

     It's so nice to see you again. Please leave. I was thrilled when you arrived an' I took special pleasure in the snow you brought so we could have a white Christmas. In fact, that was very considerate, on your part. In spite of the fact that my heart raced with joy when you arrived, I'm beginning to notice murmurings of discontent among the masses. I fear you may be reduced to tears, should your old, cold ears pick up the whisperings that might travel on the wind. No disrespect intended, of course, but it would not be a good idea to give in to such frozen showers, if my opinion counts for anything.

     In case you haven't been keeping good tabs on just how busy you've been, may I remind you that evidence of your extended visit is virtually everywhere. Although I'm sure the farmers are thankful for the moisture so their crops will benefit, I rather think they would not like it if you should continue to shed tears and turn an already messy situation into an impossibly dangerous one by adding your icy personality. Keep in mind that 'Safety First' should always be your motto.

     I've noticed that you seem to have forgotten to be safe in some of your ventures. Recently, when you arranged for my good hubby-buddy and I to spend time in a ditch, we did not feel that you were practicing 'Safety First.'

     Rumor has it that Spring is impatient for her vacation here. We have enjoyed getting to know you soooooo well, this year. Now, its time to move on an' let Spring have her time with us. Yes, I realize that it may be a little early for such change, but I'm tired of being so cold. I'm looking forward to lilacs an' tulips. Two-lips is my kinda' season; not Blue-lips.

     I have your bags all packed an', though you may be very comfortable where you are, please don't let the door hit you in the rear, as you leave.

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya

A Poetry-Perfect-Photo

     Have you ever done something an' felt really good about it?  Then later, you see somethin' that reminds you of that proud moment?  I did that.  A long, long time ago, I was traveling either to or from North Dakota with my good hubby-buddy in the middle of winter.  As we drove, we were struck with how beautiful the snow was over everything.  At one point, I recall seeing fields an' fields of hay in huge round bales, each one covered with a sprinkling of snow.  Without one instant of hesitation, I hadda' grab my notebook an' start scribbling 'cause a poem had leaped into my head an' demanded to be written whilst it was fresh in my thoughts.

     Yesterday, while visiting a new neighbor on the web whom I had previously never met, I was surprised to see a picture that perfectly matched what I wanted to portray in that poem.  Believe me, I was quick about emailing the owner of that blog an' askin' if I could use her photo.  Imagine my excitement when she wrote back (about two minutes ago) an' said I could.  Below is that beautiful photo, followed by the poem I enjoyed writing, such a long time ago.  If you'd like to see some more amazing photos, be sure to go to Once Upon A Rose Haven's blog.  You won't wanna' leave.  I a'ready know you're gonna' love the picture an' I hope you enjoy the poem as much as I enjoyed writing it.

AFTER THE HARVEST

Look out across the wheat fields,

And, Oh!  What a surprise!

The shredded wheat is blooming,

I see it with my own eyes!

Where's the sugar?

Pass the milk,

It's breakfast time, I'm sure,

When shredded wheat starts blooming,

That's all I'm wishing for.

So, farmer, build a table,

Build a chair,

And build a bowl,

'Cause shredded wheat is blooming,

And it makes my hunger grow!

Just Joany 2006

 

     Thank you so much, Once Upon A Rose Haven, for letting me use your beautiful picture.

     How about you?  Do you like to take pictures or write poetry?  What is your most memorable experience?

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya

Why the Cow Jumped Over the Moon

     You know, it happens every year about this time. I look around an' see the same things goin' on. Fields and fields of critters battling the elements, even whilst I enjoy the warmth inside my house or car. Some days, I see only one or two four-legged beasts, surrounded by nuthin' but fields of white; snow, snow an' more snow. Other times, I'm convinced there are thousands of animals, roaming miserably back an' forth. Around here, most of the population is either cattle or horses. In other areas where I've lived it might be sheep, goats or even those funny little creatures called llamas. The struggle is still the same, wherever life goes on. Rain, snow, hail or sleet; it can't be comfortable havin' to be out in it, twenty-four hours a day.

     'Course, I could be judging this situation all wrong. Maybe alla' those critters actually enjoy the various changes in Mother Nature's moods. I certainly enjoy every seasonal change - - - watching from inside my house. But maybe horses an' cows look forward to the seasons the way some people look forward to a different kind of dinner. I dunno'; I s'pose it’s possible. I always imagine how I would feel if I hadda' stand out in the rain an' snow. Lemme' tell you; if I were a baby cow, I have a life-size image of how contented I would be, in the same situation.

     Picture it:  I am a brand-new baby cow, born only moments ago, inside a nice toasty barn, with my mama cow to cuddle up to an' hay to keep me warm. Every meal is supplied at my behest; warm an' given with love. My daddy cow is standin' sentry at the door, so's nuthin' can hurt me. I am a happy, happy camper.

     Life is good in my new home. I am well cared for. Mama an' daddy even incorporated help from a farmer to make sure that I am happy. All is going well, until the farmer gets an idea. He thinks that I should move outta' the barn an' into the pasture. WHAT?!? Does the good man know what's out there? Does he realize that somethin' funny is falling from the sky? Somethin' wet an' cold? Does he care? Yes, I know you ladies do your share, but let's give the men a well-deserved pat on the back.

     Now, don't get me wrong. I happen to have it on good authority that farmers are amongst the most caring folks who chat with animals. In fact, I've seen my own good hubby-buddy go to great extremes to make those babies comfortable. True; he's not what you might call a traditional farmer, but I'm pretty sure he represents the general population of care-givers; whether that be in the human world or the animal kingdom. An' I'll tell you a little secret if you promise to keep it under your hat. There may have been a time or two when I've been compelled to throw a blanket on a cow an' a pillow nearby to rest her pretty head. 'Course, I realize that may not be ideal when you have more than a few to possibly thousands of head of livestock.

     Which brings us

 back to the subject of this discussion; why the proverbial cow jumped over the moon. As I said earlier, my own contentment ties in strongly with how comfortable I am. If I were a new baby cow, bein' cast to the elements as it were, I'm sure my sense of contentment would be greatly improved by the occasional pat on the head or a blanket to warm myself. An' I would definitely not be adverse to receiving a good, thick pillow for my head. Come to think of it, I've noticed that farmers an' ranchers do a lot to make sure their charges are comfortable. That's pro'lly why so many of those cows jumped over the moon; to get back home.

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya

A Homespun Memory

     Years ago, I wrote a poem that my mama liked very much.  'Course, bein' the recipient of pure love an' parent-pride, I never questioned whether she liked it for the poem or because I was her offspring.  To me, the fact that she liked this particular poem touched a special chord in my heart.  When mama passed away, I wanted to do somethin' to honor her.  Finally, when it was time to buy a headstone, I felt that the best way I could honor her was to give somethin' of myself that she loved.  The Poem.

     Years later, I tentatively entered my poem in a contest that was open to all countries, certain that I would finally learn that Mama's appreciation was founded in her love for her child.  To my great surprise, I won Honorable Mention.  I dunno' if anything has ever surprised or pleased me more than that award because I finally felt that I truly had given my mama somethin' worthwhile.  Naturally, she an' I shared a special moment that day.  Whilst I visited her grave, I cried tears of loneliness that she was gone an' tears of joy that I had given a part of myself that she loved.

     In case you have difficulty reading the words on the headstone, here is a copy of the poem:

Homespun

Homespun; fireplace; the smell of pitchy pine chips;

Burning; smouldering; dying.

The milk cow; milk; cream; butter;

Salted; churning, slowly churning.

Voices; Mama; Daddy; neighbors;

Children laughing, running, playing games.

Fields; plowed; planted; watered;

Yielding food for folks and critters,

To start again; Homespun.

                        By: Just Joany 1979



     Thank you for sharing this memory with me.  Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya

Thank Goodness For Global Warming!

     Well, it seems that more than a year has passed since I last wrote. Anyway, a whole new year has arrived, so I guess that proves it. I was beginning to enjoy the excellent weather we were havin'. Then all at once, winter pounced. Everywhere I look, the only color I see is white. Now, I have nuthin' against the color white, but there are some other shades that I enjoy, as well. Ah, well; I guess winter has to have her day, too.

     I've always loved this time of year. I've lived from Washington to Florida an' Maine to California an' everywhere in-between. I've seen every possible mood that weather can offer, within the United States, an' I still love winter best. 'Course, with the onset of what some of our fine leaders have deemed as Global Warming, I may not get to enjoy too many more of these beautiful white winters. According to the Powers That Be, we could be in the process of warming ourselves right into oblivion. That is, if we don't all freeze to death, first.

     Rumor has it that no one took the time to tell Ol' Mother Earth that she's warming up. I guess no one felt that she needed to be informed. I s'pose she'll figure it out in her own time, eh? In the meantime, I hear from friends in California that snow an' rain have sent lotsa' folks --- nowhere. Yup! That's what I said; nowhere. Between the rain an' snow, I hear tell that some people are virtually living on the freeways. At least, that's what I call it when people park their vehicles on the freeway for hours an' hours at a time. It just doesn't make any sense to get in your car an' sit still, otherwise; do you think? I sure don't.

     Folks aren't doin' much better on the east coast, either. With record snowfall filling highways an' blocking passages from point A to point B, all over the country, I really think it would be in the best interest of everyone concerned to contact Mother Nature. It's jus' possible that she might be able to work somethin' out with the Powers That Be so's we could all relax an' be a little more comfortable.

     I love winter, but even I think things are goin' a little haywire. If I din't know any better, I'd say that Mother Nature is trying to prove a point. Maybe she thinks that since man wasn't there to cause all the other fluctuations in weather for the past ever-how-many thousands of years, then man should keep his opinions to himself an' let her go about doing what she has been doing for all those thousands of years, without man's input. At least, that's what I'd be saying if I were Mother Nature. All I can say is thank goodness for Global Warming or we might all freeze to death!

     Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya