Pretty Women

Fiction

Marie did her morning meditation taking deep breaths as she looked out the window and thought of nothing but Glynnis. Her customers always came first and appreciated her friendly focus. It took hours to perfect the concentration but she learned that it guaranteed her clients' loyalty. The tips often reached 25% through her purposeful meditation. Her smile greeted Glynnis at the door.

Glynnis smiled down at the woman before her. The salon was private and specialized for the treatment she was accustomed to. She knew nothing but that she was a 45 year old beauty who was meant to be admired. Marie amused her because of her skillful attitude of a servant.

Their aesthetic ambitions were met through each other.

Marie thoughtfully mixed the colors. Glynnis was a level 6 with #10 highlights.
Today Glynnis would be receiving the full treatment, c/c, full leg waxing, brow and upper and lower lip threading and sixty minutes on the bed.
"Will you wear the safety glasses today."
Glynnis frowned as she did not like the lines they left.
"You know I am required by law to advise you to use them."
"Marie, don't you know that if you increase both the UVA and UVB to a nominal intensity, the light will travel vertically and be unable to infiltrate my horizontal exposure. There is no need for those silly goggles." Glynnis gestures added to the explanation of light travel.
Marie's own eyes dilated but she shrugged and put the goggles away.

Six hours later, after complicated instruction on color application and the fundamentals of good waxing technique, Marie and Glynnis hugged. Glynnis was pleased that Marie had learned so much and Marie was pleased by the hearty tip.

Marie swept the hair and bleached the tanning bed, dreaming of another trip to the Bahamas.

Glynnis applied fresh rumbleberry lipstick to her threaded lips as she backed her blue BMW cabriolet out of the driveway, unfortunately for Jolene who was speeding down the street on her green and black girl- skateboard at the same time.
Jolene lay stunned and speechless as Glynnis jumped out her vehicle, rumbleberry across the cheek, screaming at the young girl's total lack of skateboarding skills.
Jolene moved her limbs successfuly, felt gratitude for the helmet she had worn then slowly stood up to face the ranting woman.
"How dare you..." Jolene began a tirade of defense and accusation against the woman whom she discerned could afford it.
Glynnis agreed sympathetically, after noting that the cabriolet was unharmed and Jolene suffered only minor injuries.

Jolene wrote down her license plate while Glynnis drove away, waving.

Jolene was a fit girl of fifteen who carried her large frame well, her stomach protruding proudly over her size 36 skateboarder denims. Her black hair curled at the shoulders from under a khaki cap. The skateboarder's mind was still preoccupied with the golden bronzed image of Glynnis and her finely articulated words which she spoke to herself as she got into her convertible, " Teenagers really have to get a grasp on what courtesy is."

When Jolene arrived home, she examined her skateboard more closely, livid at the closer inspection. It was beyond repair, three wheels were missing and there was a deep crack in the middle which dissected the girl insignia neatly in half.
She turned on the computer and called up her favourite on line detective program. Quickly, she typed in the license plate number and within seconds the screen was filled with information.

Name: William and Glynnis Charleswood
Address: Briarwood Estate...

Everything was there, even their annual income. Jolene smiled smugly.

Jolene started the long walk to Briarwood Estates, but her limp slowed her down so she rested at a bus stop bench. She saw Marie outside her house watering the geraniums and waved. Jolene was a regular at Marie's basement salon. Marie walked over, teasing, "Skateboard broke?" Then her mouth opened wide in alarm as she drew nearer and saw Jolene's blackening eye, bruised cheek and the broken skateboard on her lap. "What happened to you?"
Marie sat down as Jolene told her the tale.
"That sounds like Glynnis. She must've just left from her appointment. " her teeth clenched and her eyes glazed over. "I'll go get the car, I don't have another appointment for an hour."

They drove to the estate. Briarwood was immense and beautiful. A fountain with water flowing from the lips of Athena graced the front yard. The house was Romanesque with solid brick walls and a tower.
"Don't worry, I'll come with you," Marie comforted her shaking cohort.

They waited at the portico. Finally the door was opened by a old man, no less than ninety with coal black hair in a wheelchair.
Jolene held up her skateboard explaining the tale of a Mrs. Charleswood who ran into her this afternoon. "This cost me $62.50 out of my own money..." her voice quivered.
"Come in, come in."

William Charleswood ushered the pair into his home. His darling had perpetrated another indescretion, no doubt. The fat one went on about her skateboard; he smiled and consoled her by writing a cheque for $100.00. She seemed placated and he patiently led them to the door.

"He seemed nice," Marie was shocked at meeting Glynnis' husband.
Jolene didn't respond. She was riffling through a pamphlet.
"What is that?"
"Oh, just something I picked up on the way out. Look at this!" she held up the cover which featured a joyous, glossy Glynnis. Under her chin was written, " Come and experience her wisdom."
"She is giving a talk tonight! We have to go."
"Not me. I hear enough from that woman besides she is my favorite client and I don't want to cause trouble."
Jolene smiled at Marie's lack of impartiality with her clients, that came with the full treatments.
"Okay, I will go alone!"

That night, Jolene, still hurting but not limping nearly as bad, caught the bus to the hotel where Glynnis was appearing. She arrived just in time to catch her emerging from a gold cadillac. After she disappeared into the hotel, Jolene walked up to the driver who had just parked the car. He was nonchalantly picking his teeth, resting his leg on the bumper.
"Are you Glynnis Charleswood's chauffeur?"
He came out of his reverie and nodded. "This ought to be good," he smiled to himself.
"Would you mind if I ask if Mr. Charleswood took away her driving privileges?"
"Ah, now it is beginning to make sense," he thought as he noticed her black and blue face. "No, Mr. Charleswood took her car to the autobody for a paint job. There was green paint on the fender."
"Ah, now I understand the nice Mr. Charleswood," Jolene thought as she thanked him.

Jolene limped confidently into the lobby.She saw a sign with Glynnis smiling and pointing to the designated conference room. When someone was about to question her, she held up the wrinkled pamphlet and was let through.
The room was filled with women. Jolene found a seat in the second row and looked around. These were not ordinary women. These sat straightly in their padded chairs, muscles taut, hair styled , skin tanned, outfits designed. Suddenly Jolene felt conspicuous and slouched down in her seat.
Music and a spotlight announced the stunning, the glorious, the effervescent Glynnis. Her smile warmed even Jolene's sarcasm but then she spoke.

"You are the epitomy of womanhood. Give yourself a hand." Thunderous applause. Then,"You are the pillar of light in this world of ugliness. Your beauty captivates the hearts of mankind. You are more than just pretty women that encourage and enlighten the world. You are goddesses."
and "Repeat the words that affirm your beauty, your lifestyle, your choices...I am kind. I am loving...
My words are positive. My speech is articulate. I can do no harm..."

Jolene felt sick for the next two hours. When the floor was finally opened for questions, Jolene was the first one at the mike. "I am not a pretty woman, but I am a pretty good girl." Everyone looked at her surprised for not only was she not beautiful but she was also bruised and puffy. Her stomach protruded proudly over her jeans.
Glynnis stared at her. Suddenly recognition overcame her and she fell from the stage. Jolene rushed to her crumpled form and whispered in her ear, "I hope you will understand Mrs. Charleswood."
Glynnis shook her hand loose from Jolene and struggled to her feet alone. Jolene watched her as she left the room,limping because one of her stileto heels had broken off.

Glynnis fumbled with the dressing room lock.
"That was so inspiring!" someone came from behind her with a program. She signed it, nodding and quickly retreating into the room.
She stared at the woman that shrank back from her in the full length mirror with bruised cheek, reddened eyes, dishevelled hair, shaking shoulders. Glynnis felt a desire to to collapse before the reflected image but the words came automatically, "I am in control. I am not weak. I speak truth." Her knees strengthened as she reached for a brush.

While Jolene waited at the bus stop, she meditated on a girl's belly button that decorated the bus shelter, chuckling at her own superimposed refection.

The bus bounced and lurched intermittently, Jolene held fast to the strap and to the thoughts of the day. "She is powerful. All those women applauded her every word. You would think that she knew something. When I offered her my hand, she walked off without a word. If she really knew anything, she would have spoken it then."
"Who am I to talk? What do I know?"
"I do know I'm a good skateboarder. I've broken two wrists and an ankle to get here. There is one thing with boarding, you can't lie to yourself; the falls speak for
you."



copyright 2005

Pretty Women I.6

This is a fictional account. Please see previous entries.


Jolene started the long walk to Briarwood Estates, but her limp slowed her down so she rested on a bench at a bus stop. She saw Marie outside her house watering the geraniums and waved. Jolene was a regular at Marie's basement salon. Marie walked over, teasing, "Skateboard broke?" Then her mouth opened wide in alarm as she drew nearer and saw Jolene's blackening eye, bruised cheek and the skateboard actually broken on Jolene's lap. "What happened to you?" .
Marie sat down as Jolene told her tale.
"That sounds like Glynnis. She must've just left from her appointment. " her teeth clenched and her eyes glazed over. "I'll go get the car, I don't have another appointment for an hour."

They drove to the estate. Briarwood was immense and beautiful.
"Don't worry, I'll come with you," Marie comforted her shaking cohort.

They waited at the columned doorstep. Finally the door was opened by a old man, no less than ninety with coal black hair in a wheelchair.
Jolene held up her skateboard explaining the tale of a Mrs. Charleswood who ran into her this afternoon. "This cost me $62.50 out of my own money..." her voice quivered.
"Come in, come in."

copyright 2005

Pretty Women I.5

This is a fictional account. See previous entries.

When Jolene arrived home, she examined her skateboard more closely. It was beyond repair, three wheels were missing and there was a deep crack in the middle which dissected the girl insignia neatly in half. Jolene was livid.
She turned on the computer and called up her favourite on line detective program. Quickly, she typed in the license plate number and within seconds the screen was filled with information.

Name: William and Glynnis Charleswood
Address: Briarwood Estate...

Everything was there, even their annual income. Jolene smiled smugly.


copyright 2005

Pretty Women I.4

The following is a fictional account. This is an ongoing story so please read previous entries I.1 -I.3.

Jolene hobbled down the street while Glynnis drove past, waving.

Jolene was a fit girl of fifteen who carried her large frame well, her stomach protruding proudly over her size 36 skateboarder denims. Her black hair curled at her shoulders from under a khaki cap. Her mind was still preoccupied with the golden bronzed image of Glynnis and her finely articulated words which she spoke to herself as she got into her convertible, " Teenagers really have to get a grasp on what courtesy is."


Copyright 2005

Proverbs 26:12

"Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? there is more hope of a fool than of him."

Pretty Women I.3

The following is a fictional account

Glynnis applied fresh rumbleberry lipstick to her threaded lips as she backed her blue BMW cabriolet out of the driveway. Unfortunately for Jolene who was speeding down the street on her green and black girl- skateboard at the same time.
Jolene lay stunned and speechless as Glynnis jumped out her vehicle, rumbleberry across the cheek, screaming at her total lack of skateboarding skills.
Jolene moved her limbs successfuly, felt gratitude for the helmet she had worn then slowly stood up to face the ranting woman.
"How dare you..." Jolene began a tirade of defense and accusation against the woman whom she discerned could afford it.
Glynnis agreed sympathetically, after noting that her cabriolet was unharmed and Jolene suffered only minor injuries.

Jolene wrote down her license plate.

copyright 2005

Pretty Women I.2

The following is a fictional account

Marie thoughtfully mixed the colors. Glynnis was a level 6 with #10 highlights.
Today Glynnis would be receiving the full treatment, c/c, full leg waxing, brow and upper and lower lip threading and sixty minutes on the bed.
"Will you wear the safety glasses today."
Glynnis frowned as she did not like the lines they left.
"You know I am required by law to advise you to use them."
"Marie, don't you know that if you increase both the UVA and UVB to a nominal intensity, the light will travel vertically and be unable to infiltrate my horizontal exposure. There is no need for those silly goggles." Glynnis gestures added to the explanation of light travel.
Marie's own eyes dilated but she shrugged knowing to be convinced to put the goggles away.

Six hours later, after complicated instruction on color application and the fundamentals of good waxing technique, Marie and Glynnis hugged.
Glynnis was pleased that Marie had learned so much and Marie was pleased by the consolation for her lack of knowledge by a hearty tip.

Marie swept the hair and bleached the tanning bed, dreaming of another trip to the Bahamas.


copyright 2005

Pretty Women I.1

This is a fictional account.

Marie did her morning meditation taking deep breaths as she looked out the window and thought of nothing but Glynnis. Her customers always came first and appreciated her friendly focus. It took hours to perfect the concentration but she learned that it guaranteed her clients' loyalty. The tips often reached 25% through her purposeful meditation. Her smile greeted Glynnis at the door.

Glynnis smiled down at the woman before her. The salon was private and specialized for the treatment she was accustomed to. She knew nothing but that she was beautiful and meant to be admired. Marie amused her although she knew that Marie had nothing to offer but the skillful attitude of a servant.

Their aesthetic ambitions were met through each other.


copyright 2005

Summer 2005

I missed the first day of summer relaxation, but the second has sufficed. To celebrate its entry, I wore a special summer dress. It is flowered with yellow tulips, green foliage and purple splashes of various blooms. I describe the style as a "60's mom look" for every summer I put this replica on, I envision my Mom sitting at our kiddies' table set sipping lemonade in the shade. I feel motherly decked out and ready to enjoy the day.
A promise is kept to spend a delicious hour reading in the shade with an icefilled glass of soda.
The season has been heralded and more promises made.

Looking For Solutions

Last week, I asked an elderly woman in the church,who is 85 yrs old, for advice on dealing with aging. She is partially blind and has a heart condition. She is a tough woman though. She and her husband rarely miss a service. Even if her heart is acting up, she will take a nitro and be there for the evening service.

Immediately she told me that she always has been active in sports. She used to ski and hike in the mountains. Up to five years ago, she bowled and this with a visual impairment.
At the next service, she told me she eats healthy and suggested whole wheat bread.

Then this last time, she said that she wanted to speak to me after service as she had been thinking deeply about my question. We stood close in the foyer and she drew me close to her side. I knew this was an honored moment as an aged friend passes on precious wisdom.

"Carol, hold on to your faith tenaciously." She comforted me with Job as her love for God glistened in her clouded eyes.

I am a Worrier

In the last year, I have been working hard to overcome anxiety and have succeeded in many ways. I have tools now, some which have become second nature. Like:
-thinking of solutions instead of dwelling on the problems. Sometimes I still persist in the anxiety for a couple of hours or even days but eventually I remember to be objective.
-doing a scheduled worry time.
-relaxing my body which becomes very tensed when I am anxious.
-praying which helps me to remember the toolchest.

I am glad that anxiety is not the normal state anymore. I have examined my core beliefs that lead me to worry. I have learned my body's signals that warn me of the worry zone. I know that I am able to deal with anything that may arise or if not, I have access to Someone that does.


The evening was pleasant as we watched television after a day of work. My husband even gave me a half hour foot massage. The children were happily getting along. We are healthy and safely at home together.
Yet there is an undercurrent of anxiety. I haven't felt it for several months now so the sensation is unfamiliar which makes it even more disturbing.
"What is the matter?" I know I have to face the worry.
Blogging caused part of the anxiety this evening. I felt that I had nothing to say and am not a good enough writer. Feelings of inadequacy reappear. I hate this feeling, but it is here regardless. I have to deal with who I am right now. This isn't going to go away quickly.
I feel a need for affirmation but I am learning that I am the one who has to give myself words of encouragement. This is a hard and long lesson.
My health is a common concern. Being in my forties has been difficult physically. My latest concern is of a heart attack. I am holding off visiting my doctor for fear that I will appear a hypochondriac even though I have symptoms that I would like further addressed.
I also have a sore foot, hence the foot massage. Sigh.
I am not socially skilled and sometimes I am bothered by that. I want people to like me but know I have to learn to risk and not be afraid of mistakes or of being rejected. This includes creatively as well.

There I feel better now. Those tools really do help.

John 17:17

"Sanctify them in the truth; Your word is truth."

Excerpt from a Life

June 20,1974
I took my art poster to school. During art I asked Miss Blaze if I had to hand it in to be marked. She said no but she had to look at it. So she did. I put it back on the shelf. After a while Janet told me that Dizdikowksi,Lambdon and Sam had my poster. I looked around and saw them tearing it up. Oh did I get mad. I said to Joe (Dizdikowski),"Thanks!" He stopped laughing. He kept on saying "James (Lambdon)did it." I was so mad, then I walked back to my desk. I could hear Joe mocking me. James brought me Joe's art folder and told me to rip it up.
"No thanks. I'm not as stupid as you are."

In the afternoon (the girls had) Industrial Arts instead of Home Ec. The boys were in there. Mr Dunham said one of the boys would help me. I said okay. Guess who he asked? Joe. I was thinking,"Oh boy!" But instead of complaining he said sure. I was so surprised. He helped me just about finish my table. I still can't believe it! He didn't call me names or mock me. He was quite nice.


After reading this entry thirty years later, I realized that by standing up to these bullies, I received their respect although it lasted only one day.

Not Another Day

"Rain rain go away"
I chant to the tempest
whose black winds threaten to stir
dark clouds into a torrent of self reproach

A bright remembrance briefly calms the skies
of a fair weather friend
who learned to forgive stormy backlashes
and to love nature and its peculiar fondness for change

"Rain, rain go away"
unless you promise me a deluge
of reasons why I shouldn't run from the worms
that you will draw out

I Just Can't Live It

Today was the final evening of gospel meetings. It was intended for non-Christians who feel that they are not capable of living a Christian life and consequently do not obey the gospel call.
Many years ago I picked up a Bible and read, "He that saith, I know Him and keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him." I remember thinking," How can anyone do this?" and in fear and anger closed the book.
The lesson tonight addressed those feelings by encouraging the seeking soul not to focus on what they can't do but rather on what God can.
The Christian life is one of growth. Although a person arises from the baptismal waters freed from sin through the power of God, it is the life time of faith in that power which enables a Christian to live out His Words.

Securely Fastened

She is an exhausted pearl button
that dangles
from a well worn mauve couch

She is almost neglected
for one more wear
but preciousness must not be lost

A needle and thread
mends her dutifully
a kindness that excuses her

Girlpower

She is a valuable teacher
as she accepts her quietness
with calmness
and a joyful smile.

She is comfortable
as others take the spotlight.
She is a natural
friend.

She is the daughter
who shows me
the beauty of
being an introvert.


This poem was inspired by an article from a Chatelaine magazine article entitled Girlpower about women who learned from the girls in their lives.

Comfort for the Faint-hearted

We are having gospel meetings in the church this week. This means we have a guest preacher who gives a series of sermons in the hope of spreading the gospel to new people.
I find these meetings difficult as often uncomfortable aspects from the Bible are revealed as well. The one last night was about suffering pain. The preacher, Phil, said we should have the expectation that problems will occur and be ready for them when they do.
I sat anxiously squirming in my pew and I still am squirming as I think of the possibilities of pain in my life even though that it is not the point.
The point is I need to develop the faith that will be able to endure all things and continue to say in my heart "God is good" throughout any trial.
This growth is something I can work on today as I am reminded of Jesus' words, "So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
There is enough trials in each day to prepare for the next.

Acts 26:8

"Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you, that God should raise the dead?"

Excerpt from a Life

June 11, 1974
Today is Mango's birthday. Didn't even get her a present yet.


some things don't change

Mango

People still get us mixed up even though she is fair and I am dark. When we were children, she used to come with our family when we visited relatives. We told them that she was a mutant sister.

We met in the summer of 1970.
The city sponsored supervised play at all the city parks starting that summer. My sister, Rlynne, and I joined the park across the street. It was there that we saw the new kid in the neighborhood.
Everyone made a name tag by printing their name in glue and sprinkling sand over top. Rlynne and I both surreptitiously stole a look at hers and thought, "Mango?"
My sister was the outgoing one so she quickly latched onto Mango. I shyly followed the two girls around the park. Rlynne never did introduce me.
My opportunity came during a game of dodgeball the next day. Mango and I were on the same team so amid the dodges, I fearfully asked, "Will you be my friend?"
She replied, "Sure!" and we have been together ever since.
We played dolls together.
We learned about boys together.
We were roommates.
We partied together.
We both found good men to marry.
We both had two girls and a boy.
We both became Christians.

All because two little girls met.

Fourth Avenue

In a time before sorrows
we played with all our heart
in a retired mansion

we taped interviews
planned parties
critiqued performances
and sang

Aren't you glad
we are on fourth avenue again

The Covenant

A week ago I wrote of a cloudburst, since then it has rained every day. I witnessed nearby floodings but by television only and am grateful that our basement is dry.
After I got off work, the security man who accompanied me to my van, pointed out what a beautiful evening it was.
I looked up and saw that the clouds had uncovered the marvel of a blue sky again. How welcome were the sights of the western yellow horizon and a crescent moon.

We Learn

After all the kids had left for school, I received a phonecall from my eldest.
"Mom, promise me you won't freak out!"
This is not the kind of call I like to receive but keeping calm, I asked what the problem was. After she was realized that I actually was not going to freak out, she told me what the catastrophe was.
I found the missing appliance and she hung up, both of us being surprised by my cool response.

This evening, she says to me, "Don't freak out!" Again, once she sees that I am calm, she tells me about her broken $100.00 calculator. She reassures me that everything has already been worked out and tells me the saga of her broken calculator, the money she saved to replace it and how one was found on on e-bay through the help of a friend.

We both marveled at this new communication tool. She found a way to snap me out of my conditional response to problems.

Gotta love her!

To Grow Poetically

I have been participating in the Blueline poetry forum's Perfect Day for Poetry. It felt good to be challenged to write a poem for 30 days. I enjoyed being around other poets and their work. There is a definite camaraderie at Blueline. The encouragement was much appreciated. These poems were to be rough drafts and not meant to be critiqued but I began to feel a desire for negative feedback after the 20th day.

Blueline also has two different levels of Critique workshops but neither was well attended. As a result I am going to try out another forum which encourages a lot of tough critique. I hope I am tough enough for it.

The following is one of my favorites from the 30 day session.


Empathetically yours,

a desire to touch
the marbled treasures of Florence
the smooth sculpted contours
of David's eye lids
cool
under my fingertips

to see wild horses
racing the wind
free
eyes confidently meeting my gaze

to smell the flower
fresh and lilac under my nose

to taste a lunch again of pickled beets
deviled eggs made lovingly by my Mother
accompanied by sausage that could only
be bought at Ottenbreit's

to hear the voices
of my Mother
of my Father
calling me on the phone
Sunday evenings

I desire but cannot have

I understand you now

A book meme

Jennifer got me again for a book meme.

1. Total number of books I own.
Somehow this sounds familiar to me.
I currently have 487 +/- 10

2.Last book I bought was Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. I picked this up at the Co-op grocery store which has a donated book exchange. I routinely check it out whenever I am there.
I saw this documentary on television about a journalist who visited and interviewed Morrie who was dying from Lou Gehrig' disease.

3. Last book read:
I am currently reading a book written by a Christian woman I met on a Bible discussion group. I admired her honest frankness and her ability to express herself so well on-line. I am enjoying getting to know her more through her writing.
I feel an affinity to people that write. Certain similarities appeal to me, such as a social awkwardness acommpanied by hidden qualities of honesty, depth, humor etc. To get to know these people would probably be difficult anywhere else.


4.Books that mean a lot to me:
The Bible is the most precious book in my possession. It is the book most worthy of study and meditation.
I am also grateful for the songbook The Hymns for Worship which my children and I sing to.
And all those others on my bookshelf. They are beautiful as they wait.

5.Tag 5 people: As Jennifer, I don't like to make others feel obligated but there are a few I know that have a well stocked library as well like Candid Spirit, Cuz and Moira and anybody else that would like to join in.

John 14:6

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me."

Exerpt from a Life

April 5,1974
Mango and I did a play to "Smile Song." (Flip-side of "In the Midnight Hour")
It starts out, Mango is alone in the room. She is in a mentally disturbed institution. She is always isolated. She is very sad. Then her aunt comes to visit her. Her aunt doesn't like her as she is disturbed. The girl (Mango)is very happy to have a visitor. (I play the aunt) In the play I'm bored so I just leave. Its supposed to be really sad. In my opinion (not very modestly) its quite good. I'm very proud of it. "Smile Song" is played during the whole thing. No talking. Only the aunt keeps on asking herself outloud why the little girl is so happy.

No Offence was Intended

Timidly
I approached the doctor
with a question

"My Mother...
if she doesn't receive this procedure,
what will happen?"

He looked closely
my face was firmly set
no quivering lip
I was braced for the answer

He almost shouted
"She'll die!"
I didn't flinch
I was prepared
to know

Cloudburst

Driving home today, I was amazed with the beauty of the rain clouds approaching the city. A pale, small blue cloud raced the larger ones to the forefront of the sky. The scene looked painted; I could not touch the beauty. I longed to be with the clouds in the sky.

surrounded by the wind
my hair dances around my face
eyes hidden in the wisps
are blurred within the white and blue rainbows

gathering momentum
streams fall
and wet the twisting, shivering occupant
whose skin laughs and tactically enjoys

My daughter arrived home after me after being caught in the rainstorm, exclaiming, "It was like being in a cloud."

"What did you say?"

Want a Cigarette?

I started smoking when I was 19 years old. I thought I wouldn't eat so much but it didn't help,instead I had two bad habits. I ended up a chain smoker or as my Mom said, "You smoke like a chimney!" These words came from the wife of a two pack a day husband.

Smoking was more acceptable back then. I was allowed to smoke in the lab beside the acetone. After a drive with me, a huge puff of smoke released when the door opened but no one ever complained. It never occurred to me to quit. I was young and addicted.

When I was engaged, I bought a beautiful silver clutch and matching Bic's lighter cover to go with my wedding dress. Before the cash receipt was in my wallet, I knew I was doomed to quit before I would use them.

A fellow at work fasted for me while I clung on to the last butt. "Let go," he said, probably hoping to quit his fast. So I did.

I returned the clutch and lighter cover, had a wonderful smoke-free wedding but then two years later after my first daughter was born, I surprised myself by finding a cigarette in my hand, once again.

I did not want to have another child while I was smoking, but I finally decided that quitting again wasn't going to happen and decided to get pregnant anyways. Even though the doctor and nurses said it wasn't my fault, I was again determined to quit after a miscarriage.

No one offered to fast for me this time, but I believed that God could help me and had experience with the twelve steps already so I went to Nicotine Anonymous. I again experienced success in overcoming the nicotine habit. That was 14 years ago.

What helped me quit initially:

1. Having a reason to quit.
   
2. Doing the steps, especially having faith in my "Higher Power."
3. Deep breathing. My lung capacity wasn't very good initially but I could feel that my lungs desired to open up to the more available oxygen.
   
4. Having support.
5. Realizing that the craving wasn't going to last. I only had to endure the discomfort for a little while.
   
6. Taking up exercising. My body craved activity.

What helped me stay quit:

1. I admit I didn't keep going to the twelve step group but I stayed long enough to get the help I needed plus do some twelfth step work, which is helping other people suffering from the same addiction.
   
2. Never put the thought of smoking into my mind again although there were dreams that I continued to have for a couple of years after.
3. Gratitude for the two other children I had afterwards.
4. Addiction is a call for help and my addictions proved to be a great blessing in my life. As a result of them, I was forced to develop spiritually because I wanted to be free.