The Retailers Pixie ... Revisited

If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I'd like to drop my name in the box for Pixies.
Pixie...a fairylike or elfin creature, especially mischievous. A playful sprite.
Toothfairies, flowerfairies & the sandman all have a good life... but perhaps, just a little too good for me.

All this peace & love needs a little spit & fire.

I'd build my wings from sticks & twigs. I hold them together with sap & spit. I'd proudly flaunt about completely topless & I would never, ever wear shoes. I'd grow my hair long & I wouldn't really brush it. I'd be a professional. Much like the toothfairie, I would have a specialty...an area that I catered to.

Living my life as a Pixie, I would traipse in & out of people's homes, cars & places of employment...

I wouldn't visit everyone, of course, as everyone is not well-deserved of a fine, morally upstanding, professional, long-haired, barefooted, topless Pixie-on-a-mission. I would visit all the people who had once visited me & I would leave a trail, just as they had done.

I would bop in on the I-Can't-Read-Nor-Use-A-Measuring-Tape-But-Can-Tell-If-Its-The-
Right-Size-By-Looking-At-It persons' house & I would unravel every spool of thread, every bundle of rope & every dispenser of tape... just to see if I too, could measure with my eyes & mind.

I would pilfer through cupboards, stacking plates upon bowls, placing cups in pots & I'd put the lids to said pots on the mantle to the fireplace.
I would go into linen closets, remove pillow cases from their matching sheet sets & place them in the garage with the lawn equipment.
I would remove the lid from the gas tank on the lawn mower & place it in the socks & underwear drawer.
I would take one sock & do some spot cleaning in the bathroom with it.
I would remove half the screws from the bathroom fixtures & move the toothbrush holder to the backdoor, placing it right on the ground by Fido's bowl.
I would fill Fido's bowl with crystal beads, stolen from a garland which I found & disassembled.
I would take the peppermill & seasalt grinder & I would grind salt & pepper onto the coffee table & the maybe I'd dabble my initials in it.
I would take all books off of the coffee table & place them on the floor.
I would open umbrellas & put them in the center of the room, along with any mail I might find.
I'd pull one slice of cheese, one egg, one link of sausage out of their packets & place them on the floor right in front of the refrigerator.
I would unscrew pump lotions & squirt a little bit on the counter, then I would smear my fingers through it. A little dab will do.
I would take pictures off of the wall & place them on the furniture, hoping not to scratch any wood.
If I had a Pixie-child, I would let her chew on candles or cashmere sweaters, they seem to be such wonderful replacements for teething rings when consumers are shopping at christmastime. I'd let her play fingerpaint in the syrup ...and she would be more than welcome to leave her sticky little fingerprints wherever she saw fit
Every now & again, I would nibble on some food...taking, say one bite, out of a loaf of fresh-baked bread or a corner off of a Belgium candy bar...yum!yum! and then I'd tuck that nibbled on evidence under a bed pillow in the spare room
I would take apart Parker ink pens to see if the ink looked different & then I would scribble on pretty Victorian stationary sets or past due bills to see if they write differently.
I'd take car keys off of the rings & hang them from ribbons.
I'd re-organize alphabetical files according to my mood.
I'd open glove compartments & trunks & I'd leave them open, maybe I'd put the tissue in the trunk and the spare on the floorboard. I'd flick on all the interior lights, put the wipers on high and turn the radio up full blast...so that when the key is turned some folks would rattle and roll.

Oh, I would be such a good little Pixie...
All in good fun, no harm meant & no money spent.
Much like the shoppers at Christmastime.

Black Friday, the Cree and All the Money

When all the trees have been cut down,
when all the animals have been hunted,
when all the waters are polluted,
when all the air is unsafe to breathe,
only then will you discover you cannot eat money.

Cree Prophecy

Happy Black Friday People...
Please don't put us retailers through too much hell :)
We value you more than your dollar...

Flirting with the World

Undeniably, I have learned a lot so far this year...
One of the more interesting and entertaining things I have been learning is 'flirting.'
As a teen, I simply didn't do it, in my twenties I was too afraid and in my thirties I was too busy to be bothered.
Now, I am in my forties. While I am still ever so busy and have 100 things going on at once, I am free from the fears. I am wiser.
No matter how busy the moment may be life is too short to not smile or to share a raw, fleeting truth.
I still have so much too learn, I know.
But this year I have discovered that flirting is as simple as that... smiling and sharing raw, fleeting truths....
I have also discovered that flirting is good for my mind and my spirit.
It reminds me that I am here on earth for more than my labor and money.
It reminds me that the simple things are the best and that I am blessed with many simple things.
It inspires me to giggle, when otherwise I'd be silent and reminds me that I too can inspire others to giggle... a sweet little butterfly effect... one without obligation.
As a child, my Mother always said that there was something positive to be said about everything and everyone...
Like many Mothers, she would say 'if you cannot say something nice, don't say anything at all.'
Still, for so long I have said nothing at all and now I realize she was encouraging me to flirt with the world...
for crying kids can have beautiful eyes and angry old ladies can have admirable passion...
and to not share these 'outside looking in' perspectives with them is to deny the butterfly effect...
Well into my forties, I'm finally learning to flirt ...
and I love it.

Shaniya Davis, Caylee Anthony...Little Angels with Big Wings

I don't know why Caylee Anthony or Shaniya Davis were dealt the cruel, painful, unfair cards they were.
I don't understand any of it.

My Mother has told me that the good Lord needs angels of all ages, sizes, strengths, wisdoms and speeds and for that reason he sometimes puts some people through some pretty harsh stuff and sometimes he takes a young life, sometimes in a very tragic way.
Maybe she is right.
If so, these little girls surely have some powerfully strong wings with wisdoms way beyond their earthly years.

Nonetheless, I think a thousand angels could dance through my living room chanting songs that could seduce a lion into slumber and I doubt that they would help me understand how or why a mother could ever subject her child to such cruelties and dictate such an ill-fate to their little world.

Would these same women subject someone else's child to such atrocities? It doesn't seem so. Time after time, case after case, child after child we ever-increasingly so hear about mother's harming their own.

Being blessed as I have been with a Mother who has love, passion, conviction, strength, morality, patience and compassion among other things... I find myself sickened that these children were not blessed as I have been. I know that for every nightmare story about such stuff that makes the headlines, there are a thousand stories, equally as tragic, that don't.

I don't know what we can do, what I can do, to help stop these things from happening.
I know we cannot undo what has been done.
Oh, what should we do...

Silly Bird....rant and ramble

This is MY blog.
It is one of the few things in my life that is all about me and whatever I want.
It was given life by me and can be taken out by me.
I do not have any sponsored advertisements on here because I don't want to.

So what is it about some folks who think they can bury their advertisements deep with my history's comments.
I am not interested in providing free space for any of these folks to pimp their religious views, herbal remedies or political agendas....

So while I may not post with a rhythm and I typically do not delete comments...
I will delete all posted by these lazy and crazy nudniks.

Peace and love to all...
erectile dysfunction and acute pms to the spammers

Ghost Stories...The Golden Arm

Halloween will be here before we know it...
Below is the Ghost Story of "Who has My Golden Arm," as I recall it being told growing up....
Mother's voice changing tone and pitch, as needed, surrounded by a circle of children sitting indian-style upon the wooden floors, huddled in a circle, hanging on every word...
Enjoy! Again and Again...

Once upon a time there was a very,very rich man. He lived in a great old castle atop of the misty mountain.
He was so rich that people would travel the winding road that led up to his house to ask for favors and donations of money.
Children would venture to his door, trying to peddle their girl scout cookies, candy bars and magazine subscriptions for school. But even more often, parents would arrive with their daughters in tow...knowing this rich man was not married, they hoped that he would fall helplessly in love with their daughter.
He turned the children away, despite all the wonderful goodies they had to offer. Likewise, he turned all of the fair women away...many of which were young and beautiful. He turned them all away because he believed that no-one was really interested in him...that they were only really interested in his money & his castle on the hill.
One day, a woman arrived at his door. She was not looking for money or for love. She simply needed directions. He was suspicious, but after listening to her tales of getting lost, he found himself most captivated by her arm...her Golden Arm.
He invited her in for tea....she must be very thirsty after her long & lost travels. He would give her the directions she needed, but curiosity got the best of him & he wanted to know more about this Golden Arm of hers.
So over a glass of tea, she told him how she had been born the daughter of the richest man in the land (a man even richer than himself) and how she had been in a terrible horse riding accident as a little girl riding the horse her father had given her. Her father felt terrible.
When she lost her arm, she cried & cried & cried. Who would ever fall in love with a one-armed girl? How would she ever tend to a home, a husband and a child with only one arm? Her tears of pain & loss only made her father's guilt grow.
So when she was a young lady, her father gave her the gift of the Golden Arm. It was made of the finest gold of the world & made to look exactly like her other arm, but of solid gold. Her father told her that no-one, no thing, no accidents, no horses could ever take this arm from her... it was her Golden Arm.
Entertained by her tale of the Golden Arm, he gave her the directions she needed and then invited her back for tea the next day.
Day after day, they enjoyed afternoon tea together and eventually they married.
He thought no man was as fortunate, as blessed, as lucky as he.
Then suddenly one day, his wife died.
He was saddened, but truth be known, he loved her Golden Arm much more than he had ever loved her.
(voice drops, slightly above a whisper)
So, not long after his beloved wife had been buried, he grabbed his shovel & began to dig.
With each dig of the shovel into the dirt that covered his wife, he thought to himself... oh, that Golden Arm... I must have that Golden Arm... I am going to get that Golden Arm.
And eventually, he found her & her Golden Arm.
Covered in dirt, her face was so pale.
In the moonlight her lips were so ashy...
but that Golden Arm...it glistened, it shined, it was so bright & still so beautiful.
He grabbed it out & quickly covered his dead wife with the fresh dirt he had piled up.
All the while, thinking to himself...
I have the Golden Arm! I got it! I finally got the Golden Arm!
He ran with the Golden Arm through the cemetery, through the woods and up the foggy dark hillside, back to his castle. He took the Golden Arm & hid it deep in the secret safe. The safe that no-one else had ever known about, not even his beloved wife.
After all his hard work digging & his wild uphill running, he found himself exhausted. He sat in his chair, the chair he always sat in for afternoon tea & quickly fell asleep.
But he awoke to a sound
(voice in a sing-song whisper)
"Who's got My Golden Arm?"
(story teller looks maniacally into the eyes of the first child)
The old rich man is startled by the ghostly vision of his dead wife before him.
(sing-song whisper)
"Who's got My Golden Arm?"
(story teller peers deeply into the eyes of the second child)
Her skin was so pale, he was terrified.
(sing-song whisper)
"Who's got My Golden Arm?"
(story teller looks frantically into the eyes of the third child)
Her ruby red lips were ashen & gray...could it really be her?
(sing-song whisper)
"Who's got My Golden Arm?"
(story teller looks insanely into the eyes of the fourth child)
Her hair was clumped with fresh dirt...could she still be alive?
(sing-song whisper)
"Who's got My Golden Arm?"
(story teller looks nervously into the eyes of the fifth child)
(sing-song whisper)"Who's got My Golden Arm?"
(story teller looks painfully into the eyes of the sixth child)

(sing-song whisper)
"Who's got My Golden Arm?"
(story teller looks desperately into the eyes of the seventh child) (Whisper falling to just a trace of a voice...singing in an increasingly desperate, eerie, high pitched tone, causing us children to reel in closer, gripping our knuckles tight & keeping our eyes wide open)
"Who's Got My Golden Arm? Who's Got My Golden Arm?"
"Who's got My Golden Arm?" Once all of us kids were torn between anticipation and desperation, the story teller would abruptly scream 'YOU DO!' as she grabbed hold of one poor childs' arm.

All of us would scream, year after year. None of us ever wanted that Golden Arm & we still don't!

Original Story written in 1883 by Aarne Thompson. This is my version, based upon my recall. Artwork by JustGiveMePeace artist, SAS.

Haystacks, the Wind and 3 Little Pigs

“There's no need to fear the wind if your haystacks are tied down.”

Irish Proverb

The big, bad wolf called out ' I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow you house in.'

'Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin...'

Back in town now, I snapped the above pic while on the road. A free wish for all of us!

Tomorrow the adjuster comes to look at my leaky roof, so I'll introduce us to a new wish...which can be made before crawling into bed. I think I will do it tonight ;)

While looking at the four corners of your bed say 'North, South, East, West. I make my wish, then lay to rest.'

A little bit of wishing has never done any harm

Butterflies, Slugs & Perceptions

Any caterpillar who tried to "know himself" would never become a butterfly. ~André Gide

"I'm a boot-ee-full butterfly" ~ Toy Story

I saw another wooly Slug last week-end and when I pointed him out to everyone, they all wanted to kill him. I scooped him out of harms way using a Magnolia leaf. Yes, they will sting the molasses out of you, but everything...even those things in life that are painful or not so pretty, has it's place

Ocean Blue, Ocean Blue...

Leaving town again, I will leave you all with some pics, quotes and well-wishes...


"Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart. " ~ Unknown

Some people say that if you gently pinch yourself as you watch the sunset, your wish will come true...

Other people say that if meditate while looking onto the ocean and chant three times 'ocean blue, ocean blue. take my wish & make it come true' that your wish will be heard by the universe...

A Thousand Hollow Words

Buddha "Better than a thousand hollow words is one word that brings peace."



Sometimes that word isn't a word at all, but a sweet, simple breath of air... a sigh of relief.


On a different note...
as I recall from my childhood...
if it someone else birthday and you too would like to make a wish when they blow out the candles... take a ring off your finger and drop it around one of the candles. If they blow all the candles out, you get your wish too...