Awakened today because the Pookie boy cat peed on me. I had been telling Steve that he no longer pees on the bed because I let him go out whenever he wants. Steve worries for his safety but I worry more about me. this morning as I wash everything on the bed Steve admits that I was right.
Weepy today!! the news of Joyce's death has caught up and I grieve. I loved her in the way one loves family-deep complex with more than a little shadow. I think that I always expected that we could clear things up and get back but now I realize that there was too much shadow between us. I should have cast her out of my life when Tom entered the picture but I could not. She was always the thin one the sophisticated one I was eternally the little sister to her. Now that is over without any input from me and I am weepy.
I dreamed that Amy brought Julie to see me. Amy was driving a huge car and driving fast. I don't remember any thing else.
Just let White Boy Pookie out. I pray that he is always safe out there and that my bed is always dry in here. By the way he only pees on my side.
This is the thought of the day and the thought of forever for Joyce and Lisa and my parents and Mr Comer and all of those I have known and loved
Dolores Ashcroft-Nowicki:
People often say to me, "You're 81 years old; where do you get the energy from?" and I say, "I get it from that wholeness." I move out in my mind into that immensity of space and there is that, that warmth, that sense of welcoming. And I imagine myself there. I place myself there and I say to this wholeness, "I'm part of you. I came out of you. I'm going to go back into you. And I love you. I really do love you, in the deepest sense of that word, because I'm part of you. And at this moment, I could do with a little bit of you, a little bit more of you. I need some of your energy." And Thorn, I can feel it filling me up, and then, when I come back, it's there for me to use.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
September 29,2010 MORE
So I do the dishes and prepare the mangos with which to make mango chutney. I prepare the roast beef for the oven and I plan hte rest of the meal in my mind-potatoes and green beans all easily prepared in the 2-2&1/2 hours. I am thinking all day long on and off of Joyce.
Well Joyce here is someone who loved you and is troubled and sad at the news of your death. You were so much fun. I am sorry that we couldn't go on. Really sorry you were so smart oh Mercury in Virgo. Yes your passing is not without notice-you made such a mark in my life dear one. You were cruel and hateful but you were also funny and so sharp. I loved your eye for color and light and balance. I remember when you studied photography and how I admired your sense of drama and wished that I could do what you did and that I could be thin like you were and that I could attract men the way you did.
Well Joyce here is someone who loved you and is troubled and sad at the news of your death. You were so much fun. I am sorry that we couldn't go on. Really sorry you were so smart oh Mercury in Virgo. Yes your passing is not without notice-you made such a mark in my life dear one. You were cruel and hateful but you were also funny and so sharp. I loved your eye for color and light and balance. I remember when you studied photography and how I admired your sense of drama and wished that I could do what you did and that I could be thin like you were and that I could attract men the way you did.
September 29,2010
So Joyce is still gone. I will never again have her with her rituals and her attention to detail AND,equqlly, her refusal to notice that which didn't matter. Oh my!! she had a hand wovern Swiss (I think) red orange wool blanket with black trim.And she had golden curtains-cotton panels very plain byt perfect for the red ornge which caused me to remember the panels as peach. Her bed sat on a frame so that one sat or layed about four feet off the floor. We drank tea and coffe in the mornings and beer and wine later and we smoked tobacco and pot all daay long and Joyce used tranquillizers and sleeping pills. I didn't at that point although god knows I use some other stuff now in my mid-sixties.
This is worse than my father dying and my mother dying. Like it or not Joyce was my spiritual relationship. I felt poor and ragged and Joyce wasn't. She could type and straighten up the office and she had opinions and I had almost none. I studied astrology and was naturally good at that and then I went to school and I was good at that -well sort of. I think that I may have left Gerald for Joyce-can't say for sure but I think that is down deep inside me and Joyce could hurt like my mother and my sister could hurt me. Soon, I fear, all those women will be gone. I slip and call my daughter Buffy and we are both mortified over my mistake. I think that this error and my embarrassment comes because I have been too intimate with Amy (she spells out AIMEE)
I want to just lay around and soak up the news that Joyce is dead and I may be going to Tennessee to help my sister and will she come back and if she does where will Courtney go? And what about burial,etc? I wish we could go to Moscow but Mama and Daddy are not there-they are in Denver in the military cemetary and of course getting her to Moscow could cost a lot but the grandparents are there and the oldeer I get the more I feel like I am from there. I am part of what Mr Comer and Moscow sent out into the world.
This is worse than my father dying and my mother dying. Like it or not Joyce was my spiritual relationship. I felt poor and ragged and Joyce wasn't. She could type and straighten up the office and she had opinions and I had almost none. I studied astrology and was naturally good at that and then I went to school and I was good at that -well sort of. I think that I may have left Gerald for Joyce-can't say for sure but I think that is down deep inside me and Joyce could hurt like my mother and my sister could hurt me. Soon, I fear, all those women will be gone. I slip and call my daughter Buffy and we are both mortified over my mistake. I think that this error and my embarrassment comes because I have been too intimate with Amy (she spells out AIMEE)
I want to just lay around and soak up the news that Joyce is dead and I may be going to Tennessee to help my sister and will she come back and if she does where will Courtney go? And what about burial,etc? I wish we could go to Moscow but Mama and Daddy are not there-they are in Denver in the military cemetary and of course getting her to Moscow could cost a lot but the grandparents are there and the oldeer I get the more I feel like I am from there. I am part of what Mr Comer and Moscow sent out into the world.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
09/28/2010
Joyce has died. My old friend. we were estranged over her cruel words regarding me and my family. She complained about my redneck sister and my daughter and granchildren. she said that she was so ashamed of me and how I did or did not turn out. I always thought that we would talk again and I was wrong. I still love her one of the few who really loved her and now she has "shuffled off this mortal coil" or something to that point. I may have the words wrong.
And yesterday I heard that Kimmie has been busted by the DEA for buying pain meds on the black market-30 morphine which she didn't want and 30 Percosets which she does want. she has chronic pain arising from the meds used to balance her bi-polar conditions. I was heart broken and consulted my astrologer friends who set to work immediately but when I spoke with Kimmie just now she pulled me up a little by announcing to me that this is nothing, that Citibank says that she has 30 days to clean things up in order to keep her job. she has an attorney and the charge at this point is $2500. I was amazed that she was still continuing to judge my granddaughter for stealing Buffy's phone a couple of years back saying "well I come from the same kind of family no one pays for anything I have to do it all. However I know for a fact that she didn't come from the same type of family. Oh Well!! as Steve just said "we can't work with these people" I will have to turn them over to their Jesus and their right-wing politics and move on down the road. and I do believe with all my heart that one cannot be evolved spiritually and still keep to right-wing politics-I am part of the spiritual movement, Liberation Theology. Right now in south and Central America one can witness this movement bearing fruit.
And yesterday I heard that Kimmie has been busted by the DEA for buying pain meds on the black market-30 morphine which she didn't want and 30 Percosets which she does want. she has chronic pain arising from the meds used to balance her bi-polar conditions. I was heart broken and consulted my astrologer friends who set to work immediately but when I spoke with Kimmie just now she pulled me up a little by announcing to me that this is nothing, that Citibank says that she has 30 days to clean things up in order to keep her job. she has an attorney and the charge at this point is $2500. I was amazed that she was still continuing to judge my granddaughter for stealing Buffy's phone a couple of years back saying "well I come from the same kind of family no one pays for anything I have to do it all. However I know for a fact that she didn't come from the same type of family. Oh Well!! as Steve just said "we can't work with these people" I will have to turn them over to their Jesus and their right-wing politics and move on down the road. and I do believe with all my heart that one cannot be evolved spiritually and still keep to right-wing politics-I am part of the spiritual movement, Liberation Theology. Right now in south and Central America one can witness this movement bearing fruit.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
9/25/2010
Wont attempt a fancy date again-yesterday I wrote that it was September 224,2010 because I wanted to celebrate the day that I become conscious of what i want to do.
I had a friend who said that she was so ashamed of me for the woman I became. she was referring to my "red-neck sister", my sexless relationship, the drain on me by my daughter and her children,and my sitting in my rocking chair like an old black grandma. She was so horrified by my ghetto existence although I didn't see things that way. She went on and on and finally I gave up talking to her and then discovered in the sporadic attempts to salvage what was a decades long frindship that 1) most of the judgment was alcohol fueled and 2) she wanted me to come stay with her and 3) she was also always vicious and that had been my first instinct about her years ago when Amy was a baby.
I am writing that because in a way I was sitting on this egg-brooding. I was finishing up my final years as a welfare worker and I was tired and depressed. The turn this society took with "Welfare Reform" made me sick,literally sick, and I really had no choice but to carry on. I remember standing by the tiny grove of Redwoods and wild onions there on Marina Way South now desimated by progress with town housesand looking over at the office in which I was then working and wondering if I could continue to serve even though what our society was doing was class warfare-I remember James Carville saying at one point during the Republican witch hunt of Clinton and his miserable tale wagging,"Waell you drag a twenty dollar bill through a trailer park and you just don't know who you will catch!!" I wish I could duplicate his southern accent so you could feel the full antipathy in his words. I was shaken so deeply by his hatred and contempt. The attack on Clinton and the Democrats came from millionaires and billionaires and that son of Louisiana knew that but he chose to project all his hatred on the poor and to fuel class war. Well he ended up married to one of the most hateful and cruel women working for the Republicans!! What a joke!! And he felt free to denigrate poor women and their children.
So what am I writing? the story of poverty and the strugle to become conscious or a hymn to those who clean the house, cook the meals, wash the clothes, maintain the cars? this part of life of so help in contempt,over and over I have heard well that is just daily life and it is not worthy of comment and those whose lives are caught up in this the keeping of the house the raising of the children are considered small and constricted and not worthy of polite conversation. And I peasant that I am say well this is what supports all your polite conversation,all you journeys and dreams. It is only when we are warm and full and relaxed that we begin to look around for something more. For me it is this "background" that is so beautiful and even sacred and I want to write about it.
Perhaps it is the guilt i carry having let my beautiful,plump babies go to the grandmother to be raised because I was unable to. I was a mother at sixteen and again at seventeen. i had rejected my own mother-some deep issues there and turned to my mother-in-law who was beautiful and dutiful, the daughter of a viciously cruel abusive mother and who was to me the image of perfection and appropriateness but alas the huge explosion that was to come following my son's birth was apparent early on and she and her husband arranged to move far away and I was then on my own with only a couple of old high school friends and my husbands grandmother. I came flying apart endangering the children through neglect and they ended up with my beautiful mother-in-law where they were safe. Even my daughter told me later that she didn't blame me that if they had been with me they would have had it bad because I was too young and I had nothing to offer my children.
Oh my god the tears begin again. I will never I imagine stop weeping over this and this shows in my chart the Saturn Moon Pluto conjunction which is the inspiration for this book.
Okay enough for the moment i just want to but into writing that I have been steadily losing weight and I think this is becuase I eat all that I want in the morning and I do mean whatever i want although I do attempt to keep my choices to natural even vegetarian food but I really eat. I eat around lunch time and then as the day passes I eat less and less and end up the day with nothing or with simple food such a a bowl of cereal or soup. This and the walking seems to get me back to my natural shape. the walking is very hard on my knees but it sure does make this little mesomorph sing.
I had a friend who said that she was so ashamed of me for the woman I became. she was referring to my "red-neck sister", my sexless relationship, the drain on me by my daughter and her children,and my sitting in my rocking chair like an old black grandma. She was so horrified by my ghetto existence although I didn't see things that way. She went on and on and finally I gave up talking to her and then discovered in the sporadic attempts to salvage what was a decades long frindship that 1) most of the judgment was alcohol fueled and 2) she wanted me to come stay with her and 3) she was also always vicious and that had been my first instinct about her years ago when Amy was a baby.
I am writing that because in a way I was sitting on this egg-brooding. I was finishing up my final years as a welfare worker and I was tired and depressed. The turn this society took with "Welfare Reform" made me sick,literally sick, and I really had no choice but to carry on. I remember standing by the tiny grove of Redwoods and wild onions there on Marina Way South now desimated by progress with town housesand looking over at the office in which I was then working and wondering if I could continue to serve even though what our society was doing was class warfare-I remember James Carville saying at one point during the Republican witch hunt of Clinton and his miserable tale wagging,"Waell you drag a twenty dollar bill through a trailer park and you just don't know who you will catch!!" I wish I could duplicate his southern accent so you could feel the full antipathy in his words. I was shaken so deeply by his hatred and contempt. The attack on Clinton and the Democrats came from millionaires and billionaires and that son of Louisiana knew that but he chose to project all his hatred on the poor and to fuel class war. Well he ended up married to one of the most hateful and cruel women working for the Republicans!! What a joke!! And he felt free to denigrate poor women and their children.
So what am I writing? the story of poverty and the strugle to become conscious or a hymn to those who clean the house, cook the meals, wash the clothes, maintain the cars? this part of life of so help in contempt,over and over I have heard well that is just daily life and it is not worthy of comment and those whose lives are caught up in this the keeping of the house the raising of the children are considered small and constricted and not worthy of polite conversation. And I peasant that I am say well this is what supports all your polite conversation,all you journeys and dreams. It is only when we are warm and full and relaxed that we begin to look around for something more. For me it is this "background" that is so beautiful and even sacred and I want to write about it.
Perhaps it is the guilt i carry having let my beautiful,plump babies go to the grandmother to be raised because I was unable to. I was a mother at sixteen and again at seventeen. i had rejected my own mother-some deep issues there and turned to my mother-in-law who was beautiful and dutiful, the daughter of a viciously cruel abusive mother and who was to me the image of perfection and appropriateness but alas the huge explosion that was to come following my son's birth was apparent early on and she and her husband arranged to move far away and I was then on my own with only a couple of old high school friends and my husbands grandmother. I came flying apart endangering the children through neglect and they ended up with my beautiful mother-in-law where they were safe. Even my daughter told me later that she didn't blame me that if they had been with me they would have had it bad because I was too young and I had nothing to offer my children.
Oh my god the tears begin again. I will never I imagine stop weeping over this and this shows in my chart the Saturn Moon Pluto conjunction which is the inspiration for this book.
Okay enough for the moment i just want to but into writing that I have been steadily losing weight and I think this is becuase I eat all that I want in the morning and I do mean whatever i want although I do attempt to keep my choices to natural even vegetarian food but I really eat. I eat around lunch time and then as the day passes I eat less and less and end up the day with nothing or with simple food such a a bowl of cereal or soup. This and the walking seems to get me back to my natural shape. the walking is very hard on my knees but it sure does make this little mesomorph sing.
Friday, September 24, 2010
September 224,2010-Friday and payday at the County
Lit up today around what feels like a denigration of housework and wifeness and motherhood. Will on Starlight News making fun of women (older women). I just lit up-progressed Mercury on the IC of my chart-18 Cancer-A hen scratching the ground looking for food to feed her progeny-I am here to sing a song about mothers and wives and ordinary everyday women picking up after the husband, the children and the children grow up and leave and don't even like us at least until we are old or die.
I have had it both ways: I ran from my childhood marriage and left those beautiful,golden babies to be raised by another strong woman a woman who never complained who did her chores and made sure that the family never even thought of their daily needs they were so completely realized.
I came to see in maturity that indeed it really didn't matter about the husband. Even though I am now married to my perfect husband at least in the heart we are married but not legally still I now realize that it was the wounding of my maternal instinct that caused all the trouble and this wounding was a family inheritance-the women in my mother's line DID NOT LIKE maternity. Pregnancy and childbirth and the resulting children were seen as burdens and my father's mother had only one leg and was married to an ex-con, wrongly accused and convicted and very old then.
Well that is not a very lucid description of what I want to get to. I keep thinking of the women i know who were sold into marriage some even before they could talk by family arrangement. they were not happy in fact some even had to run away but they kept on with the keeping of the house and the caring for the children and this part of life is hidden in plain sight because we denigrate mothers and motherhood and women and wives. This is the Feminine right here with us and we need to become coscious of this and learn to praise this and sing songs to the Mother and to the wives and mothers as we are here today
I find it so sad that only the right-wing Christians really stand up for the mothers and wives. That even now when we should be knowing better the Lefties continue to cry out for women's equality in the workk place rather than crying out for us to recognize the beauty and warmth and safety of the home, the hearth, the beauty brought to us by the mothers and wives tending to the private life that goes unrecognized unappreciated.
So many times I have heard form others that the daily life is not worth conversing over. I remember one friend replying after I complained that she had not spoken of all the work she was doing in her house in order to put the house on the market. she said that that work was not worth talking about. she went on to say that her father always considered the personal,the domestic, the private not worth talking about. I was so surprised I imagine becausse I spend so much caught up in the domestic. The question of what we shall eat later today or when to go to the store or how towash something so that it is not harmed.
The stories of how my ancesteral mothers faced their lives has had such deep interest for me especially since I realized that the Simon women did not want anything to do with maternity. I want to go into why-maternal death and danger and pot-partum depression??
I have had it both ways: I ran from my childhood marriage and left those beautiful,golden babies to be raised by another strong woman a woman who never complained who did her chores and made sure that the family never even thought of their daily needs they were so completely realized.
I came to see in maturity that indeed it really didn't matter about the husband. Even though I am now married to my perfect husband at least in the heart we are married but not legally still I now realize that it was the wounding of my maternal instinct that caused all the trouble and this wounding was a family inheritance-the women in my mother's line DID NOT LIKE maternity. Pregnancy and childbirth and the resulting children were seen as burdens and my father's mother had only one leg and was married to an ex-con, wrongly accused and convicted and very old then.
Well that is not a very lucid description of what I want to get to. I keep thinking of the women i know who were sold into marriage some even before they could talk by family arrangement. they were not happy in fact some even had to run away but they kept on with the keeping of the house and the caring for the children and this part of life is hidden in plain sight because we denigrate mothers and motherhood and women and wives. This is the Feminine right here with us and we need to become coscious of this and learn to praise this and sing songs to the Mother and to the wives and mothers as we are here today
I find it so sad that only the right-wing Christians really stand up for the mothers and wives. That even now when we should be knowing better the Lefties continue to cry out for women's equality in the workk place rather than crying out for us to recognize the beauty and warmth and safety of the home, the hearth, the beauty brought to us by the mothers and wives tending to the private life that goes unrecognized unappreciated.
So many times I have heard form others that the daily life is not worth conversing over. I remember one friend replying after I complained that she had not spoken of all the work she was doing in her house in order to put the house on the market. she said that that work was not worth talking about. she went on to say that her father always considered the personal,the domestic, the private not worth talking about. I was so surprised I imagine becausse I spend so much caught up in the domestic. The question of what we shall eat later today or when to go to the store or how towash something so that it is not harmed.
The stories of how my ancesteral mothers faced their lives has had such deep interest for me especially since I realized that the Simon women did not want anything to do with maternity. I want to go into why-maternal death and danger and pot-partum depression??
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
