Christmases Past...

Holiday Story...

I was about 7 or so,
got in the car to go look at Christmas Lights on christmas eve as traditon called - brother went back inside - said he had to take care of something
I heard a gun shot - bro came out and said he scared the intruder away -
I was heart broke, after all these years of them threatening to shoot Santa if he tried to break in... i hung my head and cried - christmas was over
my brother shot at santa - i was doomed for life....

2010 Christmas program at church

I am home - still giggling!!! I watched a play with Emma nuel (emanuel) and harold (herod) and the gossip (gospel) of the messes (messsiah) at the end the Mic (micheal) and Gabby (gaberial) rid themselves of street clothes and showed their gowns... for Cake! - Birthday Cake! Happy Birthday Jesus!!!

fall

I love the cool nights and the crisp air. This year we have a lot of reds unlike last year... this week is wet and possibly our first snow of the season...
rain, rain, fall to day
give me a holiday...
the garden has been put to rest for the season
and the yard has been put to bed
both are waiting to slip on that fresh crisp sparkle
natures diamonds in the sky in the frost and freeze
grab an extra blanket or shawl
oh rain rain snow snow
im ready for fall to go...
As a child the holiday season was always started with the lighing of the fire places (We had two). The fires were used to warm the house just enough with out using the furnace as the days would warm nicely. The country side would have a layer of wood smoke, a soft gental aroma that ingulfed the complete being from the outisde soothing its way into the soul, ironing nasty stressful wrinkles of the insides.
snap crackle pop of the fire warming my back
note book paper, ink pen and Sears catalogue
making a wish list for Santa
Choosing the top 3 i thought to require
choosing a medium price to not be selfish
wrapped in a blanket to dream of toys
no sugar plums, just gum drops and ribbon candy...
Life was so simple and innocent then; Niavity was native
Autumn was the beginning of school;  suspissious urgancy in the air
when time for chores came...it was a race against the dark
leaves crinkled under our feet, the colors announcing Fall
with its sounds and colors - onset of a special inner peaceful feeling

Cant touch this!

Oh how simple it was, to remember when,
before we were jaded...
the thought process was so pure and simple to follow... child like you could say...
confidence was a staple served next to the wheaties at breakfast
and mashed potatoes and gravy at dinner.
It was not meal times I ducked and dodged -
being left alone in the house with certain family members
would send me hiding under the bed,
down the street to the neighbors house
Touch became an evil thing...
hugs/touches were the precurser
abuse of some sort was about to follow.
The missing element from the relationship in this "family" unit
trust, praise, uplifting encouragement. pats on the back...
positive touch did not exsist in this group.
its like trying to drink fresh coffee with a straw but no cup...
no matter how you did ANYthing to try - you got burned/hurt

You're NOT mine

We knew from the beginning we were adopted. Not THEIRS, but theirs... Was adoption suppose to be an privilege? in my view as a youth, it was legalized slavery trade. I hated being the youngest, having 4 siblings and 2 parents telling me what to do, what not to do and where to do it or not do it... and who was i suppose to tell? tell to do something, tell of my heart break and sadness, disappointment and opinion... tell my fears and worries to? Kids having worries? fears? - just heart attacks when brother popped out of the closet yelling "gotcha" after I kicked the well made Lincoln log cabin for distance. He built it in the hall way... how was i NOT suppose to be tempted - i was 4 for crying out loud.... and that is just what i did - went running into the kitchen crying loudly that brother scared me... and you are pushing me away because i earned it? I asked for the near heart attack because of where he decided to build his fancy dancy house? NOW WAIT A MINUTE... you always get on my case when i want to be playing in the hall way - blocking the pathway... oh that's right - he is YOUR favorite, YOUR last, Your perfect little baby boy.... who turned out to not be so bad...
the older i got the more i was reminded i was adopted. I realize NOW, in my adult mind that children are not suppose to understand everything that is said to them by adults but had i? i would probably be charged with murder,or my heart/head would have exploded.
I learned to dread people! the people at home thought it was funny to creep up into the door way of the room i was in and loudly all of a sudden ask in a hurried booming voice "whatareyoudoing?" i would jump out of my skin... mother and siblings alike -
when i got older in school the kids were horrible... kicking my notebook down the hall, cutting up my frog into hundreds of little pieces (and the only real hands on science project i really got into) the bottle of soda that was poured over the 3 ring binder holding a report i worked really hard on - now in the trash... shoved in the locker and left there all class period...
normally these regularly scheduled pranks of  adolescences would not have been anything but normal acts of teen hood... but i took it extremely hard as school was as bad and home. there was no solitude, no safety, no one to talk about... not one person i could talk to or confide in or trust. (I had no "safe" place... though i never stopped trying to find one...)
A mother figure that kept reminding me i was not hers...and that she had no idea what to do with this imp of a child. A brother that every chance he got drug me to his "desires" until (i had an out of body experience that is as vivid today as that first time.) i started acting out... making the family uncomfortable - this was becoming more than what could be explained away or swept under the rug.
had i understood what was going on around me I surely would have wilted sooner than i did... the truth of life would not reveal itself for at least another 45 years....
My sister was gone - they adopted us together and sent her away in less than 10 years, gee they sure did not help her security level... and what was it that she did that was so bad she had to be sent to another part of the family... oh yea... be my big sister... the one that was suppose to take care of me.... my rock... her crime still is unidentified other than, the mean lady did not want to be her mom anymore. Us girls together had no use for anyone else - we hang on to each other tightly... the only place we really felt we belonged to each other... It was already made known to us who the favorite was, no matter what either of us girls say, he was the SBB (sweet baby boy) and could do no wrong.
split us up, break our bond so we could bond with someone else??? WRONG!!! instead took the last thread of trust, dependency, security away from us... this would back fire terribly over the next few years

opinionated? me? LMBO

First time ever do i remember having a choice - not that it mattered... I had an opinion... not that it mattered... why did anybody bother to ask when i would learn... not that it mattered...

take the dress - uuuggg I look at the dresses in the photos now and just shake in horror.... there is no way on Gods earth we would dress our little girls like that - too short, too fluffy and too much lace.... {cold shiver runs down my spine}

Our cute little dresses of lace and ruffles, the word "RAGE" was born in my vocabulary... I hated ruffles then and i hate ruffles now.... {red faced} uuuugggghhhh

Ruffles and lace, don't bite, be a lady, don't hit, be sweet, don't get dirty..... AND YOU GAVE ME... 50 acres, 7 horses, two brothers, two sisters, dogs, cats and Lincoln logs that i could practice my long high distance kick on.... - I'm a cowgirl with an opinion and rage, not that it mattered.... and if you don't like this attitude - you are not most likely to adore the next one...

1965 - lesson one - no choice really...

The question posed to us girls was "do you want to go live with these people as your family?"  We stood in the room fidgeting... she said yes, i said "no. Did you look at that woman? no i don't want to go with her, the dad seems fine... she scares me... "  sissy told me she would take care of me.. we had to go together, or they would split us up...
hhhmm sissy pouring tea, the visits, i don't want to go, but if it is with you - you promised....

I was three and a half... sissy was 5. We had no idea what her yes and my no would get us into... We thought it was a family... a mom and dad, two brothers and a big sister... on a farm.... seemed ok... He was a preacher, she worked in a government job....

I wouldn't have to beat anyone else over the head with the barbie dolls i did not want them to have, especially if the doll was mine... i wouldn't have to cut my own hair... and i wouldn't have to stand at that stupid glass and screen door begging the person that just left - to take me with them... usually it was a man in a long dark coat, teacher shoes of the 60's (brown with dots around the top of the toe (air holes?) ... please mister don't leave me here - take me with you... i promise i will be good...