PENGUINS

 I hadn't painted anything in quite awhile...

WHAT ARE MY OPTIONS NOW?

[This whole post goes hand in hand with today's song! The first part of this post is taken from a post written in 2006 where I'm discussing an ongoing game of cat and mouse played between The Wizzard and me that spans from 2004 to 2018. The end of the post I wrote this morning where as I have to admit that cat and mouse game never stopped until The Wizzard as I nicknamed him because he was such a great sailor took his last breath. He did his first solo sail from Rhode Island to Bermuda when he was 15. By the way, I intentionly spelled Wizzard with two z's.] 

At present, I am engaged in a rather odd ongoing rather lengthy game of cat and mouse. I'm usually up for anything challenging, risky and a bit unconventional. As a participant, I'm always confident of the outcome, yet in this case I haven't figured out who's the cat, who's the mouse and what the stakes are for playing this game. I do, however, know all things come with some sort of a pricetag, but this pricetag seems so elusive. Win or lose, I know my investment (perseverance, honesty and unconditional love) has not gone unnoticed and on some level are qualities that have kept me in this game. My mind reflects on the serenity prayer remembering the difference between the things I can and can not change, but I choose to change nothing and remain steadfast until the end. I'll roll the dice and see what happens.... I fear the extremes, yet crave them like a drug. As this subtle, unrehearsed, spontaneous dance continues, the issue of options seems like a worthy topic to hold my focus for awhile...What are my options? I'm told to make my own options and eventually I will. Eventually, when all is said and done, things will have happened just as they were supposed to happen.

Out of the blue, the conversation changes from idle chitchat about basically nothing to let's read between the lines and see who can be more stubborn.The Wizzard or Red Kitten?

Wizzard: What would you do with me?
Red Kitten: Huh?
Wizzard: I said, "What would you do with me?"
Red Kitten: Yes, I saw that
Wizzard: And?
Red Kitten: And if I have to do something with you, what are my options and I'll pick one...maybe two things.
Wizzard: Make your own options.
Red Kitten: Yeah right!
Wizzard: I asked, "What would you do with me?"
Wizzard: You get to name the options, what are ya skeered?
Red Kitten: You know nothing scares me.
Wizzard: So?
Wizzard: Afraid of laying it on the line?
Red Kitten: Okay...I'd pick a ride on your bike and a few laughs.
Wizzard: Sounds like a good time.
Red Kitten: I think you know me better than that...like I said, nothing scares me.
Red Kitten: Are you afraid to lay it on the line?
Wizzard: But that sounds like a good time, low risk.
Red Kitten: It sounds like a male thing to me.
Red Kitten: lol

This is where the Wizzard retreats until next time and although we maintained a lasting friendship he never was able to tell me what he wanted from me. Unfortunately, it became a stalmate because neither one of us would budge. Too many things had happened between us for his simple apologies to fix the problems or for his amazing charm to gloss over the pain I felt. He had crushed my ego and made me question my self-worth.

The damage had been done and there was no walking that back. My heart would never trust him again and as it seems many years later my heart hasn't been able to trust anyone since. We remained friends, but we never were lovers again. The Wizzard moved from Texas to North Carolina and wanted me to join him there, but I couldn't...I wouldn't. I wouldn't allow him back inside my head and my heart like that again.

The Wizzard died in 2018 and I never saw him before he died so we could say our good byes.  

I did however find out what the pricetag for this cat and mouse game we played with each other was...it was my heart!

What are my options now? It's to move on and stop beating myself up. It's to mend my self-worth in whatever way I can. What Tom did was cruel, but it's been just as cruel of me to have bought into it all this time. I know who I am. Yes, I have flaws and impefections. We all have flaws! Someone who is going to love me, will love the whole package, flaws and all. That person won't make me feel like less of a person for not being perfect.

DAY 4 - 30 SONGS IN 30 DAYS

Day 4: A song that reminds you of someone you’d rather forget

*Sir George Ivan Morrison (born 31 August 1945), known professionally as Van Morrison, is a Northern Irish singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist whose recording career spans six decades. He has won two Grammy Awards.

As a teenager in the late 1950s, he played a variety of instruments such as guitar, harmonica, keyboards and saxophone for several Irish showbands, covering the popular hits of that time. Known as "Van the Man" to his fans,Morrison rose to prominence in the mid 1960s as the lead singer of the Northern Irish R&B and rock band Them. With Them, he recorded the garage band classic "Gloria".

Under the pop-oriented guidance of Bert Berns, Morrison's solo career began in 1967 with the release of the hit single "Brown Eyed Girl". After Berns's death, Warner Bros. Records bought out Morrison's contract and allowed him three sessions to record Astral Weeks (1968). While initially a poor seller, the album has become regarded as a classic. Moondance (1970) established Morrison as a major artist and he built on his reputation throughout the 1970s with a series of acclaimed albums and live performances.

Much of Morrison's music is structured around the conventions of soul music and early rhythm and blues. An equal part of his catalogue consists of lengthy, spiritually inspired musical journeys that show the influence of Celtic tradition, jazz and stream-of-consciousness narrative, such as the album Astral Weeks.The two strains together are sometimes referred to as "Celtic soul." His live performances have been described as "transcendental" and "inspired," and his music as attaining "a kind of violent transcendence."

Morrison's albums have performed well in Ireland and the UK, with more than 40 reaching the UK top 40. With the release of 2021's Latest Record Project, Volume 1 he scored top ten albums in the UK in four consecutive decades. Eighteen of his albums have reached the top 40 in the United States, twelve of them between 1997 and 2017. He has received two Grammy Awards, the 1994 Brit Award for Outstanding Contribution to Music, the 2017 Americana Music Lifetime Achievement Award for Songwriting and has been inducted into both the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Songwriters Hall of Fame. In 2016, he was knighted for services to the music industry and to tourism in Northern Ireland.

 * borrowed from Wikipedia

CHRISTMAS WITH THE WALTONS

I wish I could take credit for this story but alas, it is not one of Mildred's. It was written in 2006 and is titled Christmas, Family and Porn but is still worthy of reposting reading today in my most humble opinion. There's no need to worry because it contains ABSOLUTELY NO PORN so you won't need to cover your eyes! lol

It’s a few days before Christmas and I’m visiting my sister. My brother-in-law’s mother lives with them in a very nice suite in the basement, she is however in California for the holidays. My Dad and step mom are visiting from California and occupying the guest room. Bare with me folks because sleeping arrangements figure into the story.

After dinner, conversation, and libations we all head off to bed. I get the mother-in-law suite. I get into bed and notice someone is still up and watching an action film in the home theater room. Now, I don’t have to tell you, but I will, it’s a tad loud and booming through the walls. In the spirit of the holidays, I decide I’ll just watch the tube until whoever goes to bed. My sister’s house has like a million TV channels. Poor peasant that I am I don’t even have HBO. I’m flipping through channels, there’s Harry Potter, nah, then Dexter, nah, half over and then the show REAL SEX, bingo! Like most folks I find sex mildly interesting so I’m gonna watch.

This particular segment was about the company Real Dolls who manufacture those $7,000 sex dolls. Well they have finally come out with a male doll. I will refer to the doll as Beach Boy Bob or Bob. All products must test marketed and this one is no exception. The company hired three “experts” (porn stars) to run Bob through his paces. So I’m watching. Now this probably a good time to mention that the bathroom connected to the suite has a second entrance from the hall. I hear the door open from the hall. I’ve left the light on in the bath so I can see. Into the bathroom walks my brother-in-law and he appears to fishing in his sweats for his little soldier. He notices the sounds coming from the room and begins to wander in asking, “Hey who’s in here?” I say, “It’s just me.” His attention moves from the bed to the TV where one “expert” has mounted Bob and the other two are helping her so to speak. The action is at a fever pitch. I say, I’m watching that show Real Sex. I say this as if that will make it clear that I’m not just watching any old porn but the classy HBO kind of porn. My brother-in-law gets a look of embarrassed horror on his face, a look that screams my eyes, my eyes, and in my mother’s bed. He tries to quickly retreat from the room and close the door behind him. Unfortunately, for both of us, I have hung some of my clothes on the door and they are preventing it from closing. They fall to the floor, he picks them up, places them back on the door and tries to close it again, and they fall to the floor again. In frustration, he throws the clothes onto the lazy boy and slams the door.

I find the whole thing hysterically funny and I can’t wait to tell everyone in the morning. My sister refers to this episode as, THE INCIDENT THAT DARE NOT SPEAK IT”S NAME. My brother-in-law claims that his therapy will be very expensive and I won’t find the bill so funny. So how was your Christmas?

I'll have to admit after reading this post, I was curious as to whether there have been any advances since 2006 and was surprised to find out they have all sorts of devices and gadgets to blow one's mind sexually! They even have robots for those who can afford them. Color me old-fashioned, but it makes me wonder if people even want to have sex the tradional way or some variation of it any more or if it's all about games, gimics, toys and marital aids? Geez! Maybe I need to go back to that website and have another look-see! lol 

DAY 3 - 30 SONGS IN 30 DAYS

Day 3: A song that reminds you of summertime

While I don't agree with Kid Rock's political views, I am tired of the divisiveness this country has grown to known as normal. In the spirit of unity, of when we all were young and carefree this is the song I wanted to share today. This song was recently shared with me by someone I respect.

*Kid Rock's music is noted for its eclectic sound. According to The Village Voice writer Chaz Kangas, "[Kid Rock’s] own love and incorporation of his musical references isn’t rooted in a nostalgia or a 'tribute,' but rather in his actively engaging the elements he finds compelling into a wholly new hodgepodge of his own invention."Because of this unique musical approach, Kid Rock has been described as a postmodern artist. His musical style encompasses hip hop, country, outlaw country, country rock, rock, rock and roll, Southern rock, swamp rock, heartland rock, hard rock, rap rock, heavy metal, rap metal, nu metal, blues,funk, soul and blue-eyed soul. Kid Rock's music has been described by Pitchfork as a cross between Run-DMC, Lynyrd Skynyrd and AC/DC.

Kid Rock's lyricism ranges from the braggadocio to the introspective; many of his raps consist of broad, humorous boasting, while other songs in his catalog have dealt with more serious topics, including poverty, war, race relations, interracial dating, abortion and patriotism. Kid Rock also developed a "redneck pimp" alter ego to complement his humorous lyrics.  According to Kid Rock, "I use straightforward words, you know. I’m not politically correct."

Kid Rock's influences include Bob Seger and the Beastie Boys. Cowboys & Indians claims that Kid Rock's song "Cowboy" had a major impact on the country music scene; the magazine wrote that artists Jason Aldean and Big & Rich, among others, were influenced by the song's country rap style. Kid Rock also had an impact on hip hop, serving as an influence on rappers like Yelawolf.

 * borrowed from Wikipedia

MY HERO

I awoke this morning needing exactly this post written by daughter years ago. As I read the words she wrote about me, I wept knowing how lately I have failed miserably to live up to her words by sinking into some self-imposed abyss. Honestly, I don't know if I have the courage or the strength to pull myself from the crevise in which I've fallen. I may need Lassie to come bring me a rope to help hoist me out of here...

"Wimpy Daughter" aka Christina was given an assignment to write a paper about her hero for one of her college classes 7 years ago (2004). The following is the paper she wrote:

By definition a hero is somebody who is admired and looked up to for outstanding qualities or achievements, somebody who commits acts of remarkable bravery or who has shown great courage, strength of character or another admirable quality. I find all these traits in my hero. "Try to picture a person who stands apart from the crowd who sees things not in black or white, but in varying shades of gray. Try to picture a person who closes their eyes and hears the beat of a different drummer, then marches proudly and eagerly away to do their own thing regardless of the consequences or popular opinion. Try to picture a person who is not a polished gem, but a diamond in the rough...someone who believes true beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and that the best things in life are free." (an excerpt from blogsite, Abnormally Normal People written by Red Kitten aka Mildred Ratched) When I picture this person, I see my mother and she is my hero.

Ever since I was little, I always knew my mother was different. It was not until I grew up that I later could appreciate the “difference” in her versus the stereotypical normal mother everyone else seemed to have. My mother raised us to be leaders not followers, to chart our own destiny and to be no one’s fool. This was daunting to a young child whose only desire was to fit in and have what everyone else had, a normal mom. My mother always taught my two brothers and me that the mind was a wonderful thing and we should use it. As far back as I can remember, probably to when I was three, I was told, “you are a smart person, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” Now I realize that all mothers will tell their children that, but most would not have done what she did. She let us use those brains instead of thinking for us. She told us that God gave us a brain and to use it, if we made a mistake or got into trouble we were to use our brain and figure out a solution. We had to, she was not going to suffer our foolishness and molly coddle any of us. Does this make her different? At the time I certainly thought so. When all my friends bragged about their parents giving them the answers to homework problems, kids picking on us at school or about how so and so parents was screaming at someone about their child’s actions my mother sat back and said to us, “You figure it out.” How I hated that, I wanted normal so bad and I didn’t have it, but it taught us to use those brains and boy did we figure it out.

Normalcy was not ever in abundance with my mother. Living in an area where racial slurs were the norm, my mother taught us to respect everyone equally as a human being regardless of skin color. She taught us to look beneath the surface of a person’s outer skin and find the true essence of who that person really was. I never knew what racial discrimination was until I became an adult and heard it. It was shocking to realize that the person making those remarks was so narrow minded. I guess witnessing such narrow mindedness opened my eyes to the fact that once again my mother defied what was normal and instead of seeing things in the standard black and white, she saw those gray areas. I never realized as I was growing up that she taught us from those gray matters more than from the black and white. As a young child I was allowed to watch what I wanted to on television. Most parents shudder to think what a child would choose, not my mother; she just sat back and allowed us to make those choices on our own. Instead of choosing stupidly we chose wisely and by doing so were taught a valuable lesson, the reward system. If you show that I can trust you, I will extend your freedom, but if you mess up you lose that freedom. I can honestly say our freedom wasn’t yanked away very often.

My mother will never be a polished gem; she will always be a diamond in the rough. Like an uncut diamond she has many flaws that I once saw as imperfections and now badges of courage, lack of selfishness and a kindness that is so overwhelmingly generous. I was taught it is better to give than to receive and always thought, "you’ve got to be kidding, right? You can’t really believe that bull!" But time and time again, we learned through her actions she meant just that. Her kindness and generosity to family as well as strangers will linger forever in my mind. What I saw as a weakness in character, thinking she was being taken advantage of, was an error on my part. You can only be taken advantage of if you let someone do so and she never allowed that. She showed strength in choosing to help those in need instead of doing the easier thing and ignoring them. She did without when others needed because she felt they needed more than she did. She didn’t just talk to us about these things, we saw her doing them time and time again. My mother taught us about the beauty found in the art of giving, the courage to love when you wanted to hate, to be strong when you wanted to be weak and to have the strength to go on when you feel that you are failing.

Christina (Wimpy Daughter) and Karen (Mildred Ratched)

My mother has not lived an easy life. The choices she has made are choices she has to bear, but bear them she does. Sometimes in frustration, in wishing she had done different, sometimes with laughter as she recalls a happy moment, but however she does it, she always bears them with honesty. She explains, not lectures, about her mistakes she has made along the way, in hopes that we will not have to go through the same things. I don’t look at them as mistakes though, because without the things she has witnessed and gone through herself, she would not be the person she is today and that person is my hero.

 Repost and edited from 12/01/2011