I'm off to kiss the Blarney Stone in a few days and anything else my lips feel like kissing as I mull around Ireland. I'll be back mid-September or so and hopefully, I'll have a tale or two to tell and plenty of great photos to post.


And satisfaction brought him back. Curiosity is an odd thing actually and what triggers it in each of us is as different and individual as we are. Whereas some people may thirst for knowledge or the meaning of life, others crave simply to find out intimate details about the people around them. We call their curiosity being nosy. I like to find out what makes people tick. I find human behavior and the human brain fascinating. I always find myself watching people when I’m out in public. When someone has some idiosyncrasy I try my best to find out when it started and why. I guess my curiosity is a combination of being nosy and seeking some sort of enlightenment. I’ve known some people who are like a sponge when it comes to reading books. They absorb knowledge and use it as they see fit in their lives. Their constant path is one of betterment and positive change. I believe people absorbing knowledge are attempting to reach self-actualization…the highest or most perfect state of being. So what makes you curious? Do you pursue your curiosity to satisfaction or do allow yourself to remain thirsty?


Ask and ye shall receive and seek and ye shall find doesn't always hold true in real life. A conversation I had with a male 20+ years younger than me the other day was the catalyst for yet another light bulb moment. The young man was lamenting over having to gently let down a female who was interested in having a physical relationship with him. Can you believe it, the brazen tart only wanted to bump uglies? He told me what he said to her as a gentle letdown and I have to admit he was pretty smooth with his rejection strategy. But let's face it, rejection of any kind is still rejection...and who likes rejection? The poor little tart undoubtedly felt bad, but the first thing that crossed my mind as he revealed his plight was "here stands a male who actually turned down sex" and I wanted to know why. I guess I have to admit I've never seen that happen before. I asked him why he wasn't interested and he named several valid reasons without hesitation.

I also have to admit it took some doing to get over the hurdle of being surprised that a male actually exists on this planet that turned down sex. Hmmmmmm! Has my generation raised its sons to have better morals than what we had in The Stone Age? Have males become more sensitive and sensible? Did male children morph as a result of their mothers' trials and tribulations? Wow! Is it possible that roles really have reversed and that females are getting more and more outspoken, assertive and many times, demanding of what they want? No frills sex??? Wham bam thank you sir and don't let the door hit you on your way out? What's next? Women in the NFL?

My mother always told me that the squeaky wheel gets oiled, but those who know me know I rarely listened to my mother. I guess I must have missed school the day lubing the old wheel was discussed. I also missed class the day "it's as easy to love a rich man as it is to love a poor one" was discussed. In fact, I think I missed school entirely too often. My conclusion regarding the fore-mentioned minor debacle is either that this was some sort of cosmic anomaly or that many younger women need to learn what men want before they bite off more than they can chew. They need to learn how others perceive them when they are crude and abrasive. They also need to learn that "no" from a man doesn't mean you're worthless or undesirable. "No" in this instance means you don't meet someone else's set of preferences. Let's face it we all have preferences, right? I think the key to lessening the instances of rejection might lie in the ancient art of communication. You talk, I listen and vice versa. Take the time to get to know someone and you just might be able to learn beforehand that you are or aren't his or her cup of tea. In doing that, a brazen woman might be able to save face and avoid that awkward moment of rejection.


When I first moved from Maine to Northwest Florida, I suffered from severe culture shock. I’m not saying the South is a bad place to live or that the people whose heritage is so deeply rooted here are inferior in anyway. All I’m saying is that I felt like a fish out of water for the first few decades I lived here. At first, all it took was me opening my mouth to speak for me to become the center of attention and to be deemed a “Yankee“ and being a "Yankee" sealed my fate to always be viewed as different or odd. I can't begin to say how many times I probably should have said to people, "if you only knew how odd I really am!" But I have to admit it was much more fun letting people find out that juicy tidbit on their own. Yes, accents eventually fade and I stopped being so quickly branded as a Yankee. Now, I suppose I've been here long enough to have graduated to the "damn Yankee" or permanent transplant status.

I still call Maine home, but the South is where I went for refuge during the years when I so desperately needed a change. And what a change I got! During those years as I assimilated and adapted to my new environment, I truly learned about myself and others. I've seen many things here I instantly hated. Those things are things that I've never allowed to seep into my soul and take root. I've seen many things here that frustrated me because I knew they were things I couldn't single-handedly change. Those things are things I've never allowed to wear me down. Sometime during my early adulthood I came to realize although I had made many HUGE mistakes while growing up, I never once measured a person’s worth by the color of their skin, their religious beliefs or the amount of material objects they owned. I tended to rate a person’s worth more by their capacity to love unconditionally and their ability to accept and adapt to change especially when it was an unwelcome change. I learned more about a person's character not by how easily they handled winning, but how they handled themselves in defeat. I also learned in order to see the humor in most things, I had to first experience the pain.

I could easily ramble on about my years here, but I'm afraid I might end up offending someone. I'd rather just smile and know there are many things I can't and won't do in order to be 100% accepted by my community. Perhaps that in part has been the catalyst to my evolution into the *hermitude in which I now live.

a combination of the words 'hermit', and, 'attitude' indicating the suggestion of the 'hermetic vas' spoken of by Jung. In Jungian terminology, the Hermit is the archetypal "Wise Old Man".
The hermit, being "the primitive man who trusts the unconscious" (von Franz on Jung's 'Zofingia lectures')is one whose way of life is concerned with authenticity, the inner attitude to life, and developing one's inner and intuitive life, as opposed to playing a role in the external world of socio-politics.