What is going on in my little pointy head today?

     Well, usually not much since I stay on "auto pilot" most of the time, but today my thoughts are a jumble.  First, I am glad they passed the "Gay Marriage Bill" in New York.  New York has always been on the cutting edge of the Gay Rights Movement, more so than even California in my humble opinion.  I have always been rather on the fence about the word "marriage" in connection with same sex couples, but they never gave me a choice in the matter so of course I supported it all the way.  I could have been satisfied with a different word, but that is just me.  I am very happy that my gay friends are making strides in that area and I celebrate this victory!  Now as long as they are given the same rights as hetrosexual couples it will be a good thing, but there is still that federal government to contend with, isn't there?
    As I look back on my life, I almost cringe at the inhumanity to man that I have seen.  I realize I did not actually "see" slavery, but I did see the Blacks treated as less than second class citizens.  I seen the riots because people of a different color wanted their children to have an education equal to the people they served.  Blacks were chattle which, if you remove the "h" becomes cattle.  Americans went to Africa and kidnapped them and brought them over here and then when they were freed, screamed at them to "Go back to Africa!"  They did not want to come here in the first place, but I am not going to go there this morning.  You are all aware of the Civil Rights struggle.
     Now, is that worse than what was done to women?  How many years or centuries were women deemed to be the property of some man and had no rights what so ever?  Ever study up on how women were treated since the beginning of time?  They could serve the husband, but if he died they were flat out of luck.  Where would I be today if I lived in those times?  Not here on a computer sharing my views with the world, that is for sure. 
     I think the homosexual population is going to be our last vista as far as equality is concerned.  I realize we still have the politically correct things we need to observe and they are more than even I can keep up with sometimes.  Like in our church, we must refer to God in the neutral sense, meaning he is neither  male nor female.  Sorry, I was raised that God is male.  God is God.  Years ago I had a tee shirt that said "When God made man, she was only kidding!"  But I never believed that for even a minute.  I know there are people reading this who will scoff at me, but who cares.  I scoff right back at them because I am a free, white woman and that is what I do.
    Back to the man's inhumanity to man thing for a bit.  I can recall way back when I lived in Nickerson. Kansas and dad would talk about a family of "niggras" that lived on the edge of town.  It was alright if they came to town to buy stuff in the daylight,  but they better not ever try to come to town after the sun went down.  In all honesty, I could not imagine why they would want to go to town in the dark because everything was closed!  I always thought my dad would have made a great KKK member and the only reason I think he wasn't was because mom could not spare the sheet!  I never laid eyes on this elusive family, nor did I ever see the "Gypsy's"  that were camped over to the West of the McQueen place.  And those are the ones I needed to watch because they were the ones that would steal me and go sell me some where if I was not a good little girl.
     Nickerson was a very white community.  Oh, we had our share of odd balls, but we were odd balls ourselves.  Darn good thing that was not illegal or they would have hung us all.  There was Hank Windiate, who was crippled on one side and went to town in a buckboard with a sad looking old horse.  Never married.  Across from him was Jerry and Ora Ayres.  She had a bit of brain damage from an accident when they were first married. He grew enough produce and peanuts to feed the county.  Jake Smith used to be a deputy and sat in a chair all day long cleaning his gun.  Rudolph Reinke lost his wife with the birth of his last daughter.  He raised his last 4 girls alone, was a handyman and did his work while singing at the top of his lungs in German.  We were the first house on that block.  Now this is just one block, and it is only a sampling.  This does not include Whittlin' Joe and Johnny Carson, or the family in the boxcar. 
     My point here is simply that I am not one to throw stones.  My childhood was typical, I feel, as was yours for your time and area.  Did God make anyone of us better than the other?  Is it my job to be judge and jury for mankind?  I rather think not.  I am going to set right here in my little corner of the world and continue to dispense my words of wisdom as they occur to me.  No doubt I will die a lonely old woman, but that is alright too.  When I get to heaven I am going to put on my dancing shoes and dance all over heaven.  Maybe God will let me set on his lap and help judge a few of the hypocrites that come knocking on the door.  Hey, maybe he will let me judge that one guy that told me just last year that I was going to rot in hell and should be burned at the stake for what I believe.  Know what?  I would probably let him in cause I bet he is sorry.  He just grew up on a different street than I did! 

Let's just give some thought to this circle of life thing here>

It is a stretch to see how that tiny little happy baby over there on left, turned into this old woman here on the right.  No one is more stunned by that transformation then I  am.  That little baby there is pure and innocent and knows nothing at all about the causes this woman holds dear.  But if you stop and think, my mother was once a tiny baby like that.  All I remember was when I was little life was so easy. I never had to worry about a place to live or food to eat or being warm or anything.  All my decisions were made for me.  I did not even have to wear shoes and clothes were just something we put on because we were supposed to do that.

Then my sister got married and then my brother joined the Army and I started high school and I figured out there were boys.  But the most fun was finding cigarettes!  Thanks for that LaVeta!  Oh, and the Home Brew.  You kids today missed all the good stuff! 

"I belong to the Beat Generation.  Ain't nothin' troublin' my mind.  I belong to the Beat Generation, and everything's goin' just fine!"

Do not remember what that was about, but it rears it's little head sometimes in my memory.  I knew there were drugs out there and I knew the names of them at the time, but alcohol was my drug of choice along with Pall Mall cigarettes.  And can only thank God that he kept me away from the drug scene.  Sure was not any good sense on my part, I just was not interested.  This was all at Nickerson High School.  We later moved to Hutchinson in my senior year and that was the end of my formal schooling.  Take a lonely little country girl and throw her into the mainstream of a big city school and you will lose her every time.  And so it happened with Louella Bartholomew.

And so life went on pretty much without me.  I fell in love, I got married, I had 4 babies in 4 years, I took a 4 year break and had another one.  I divorced, I married, I worked, divorced, married until that one sounded like a broken record.  And then one day I realized that my kids that had been the whole reason for living and working were now marrying, leaving and having babies of their own.  I was a grandma.

And now those babies are having babies and I am a great grandmother.  There is a very good chance that I will be a great, great grandmother before I get out of this mess.  There was a point in my life that I dreaded growing old.  A time when I thought it could not happen to me.  You know what I mean?  Well, I have to be honest here and tell it like it is.  Vini, Vidi, Vici!  I did that!  I can not think of anything in this world that I wanted to do that I did not do.  

I ran away, and I came back.  I have ridden motorcycles,  and drag raced after midnight.  I have ridden horses that no one knew about.  I have fished and hunted, hiked and boated.  I have loved and laughed and had my heart broken more then once, but I got what I gave.  I have been rich and I have been poor.  I have held a newborn baby kitten and held people as they died.  I have heard angel wings when a soul leaves the body, but only once. 

When I was young, I had the fire in my belly, but now I have the fire in my soul.  And I guess that is how the circle of life goes.  Someday I will need to set by the fire and nod as the kids take care of me.  I was once the carefree little girl and then my children were and now it is their children.  And that dear people is the circle of life as I know it.  When I was that tiny baby up there, my great grandmother was the Matriarch of the family, and now, alas, it is me.  I always thought the Matriarch was to be revered and respected, but now I find myself in the postition of being Matriarch and I find it is just a word I am not sure I spell correctly.  I am the same person I was before someone died and left me in charge.  I am still confused by the events of my life and am in no way able to advise anyone else.

So here is the deal; we are born, we grow up.  Some of us have kids some of us don't.  Some of us are happy, some are not.  Some of us are rich and succesful and some of us are not.  It all boils down to this, we all put our britches on one leg at a time. We all love some body at some point and when it is all said and done we are a light that gets put out.  I like to think that I am important and that I have made a difference.  This is what I know; when my light goes out, some will mourn for a time, but life goes on as it will.  Some one else will look in the mirror and say, "Oh dear, this leaves me as the Matriarch!"

That, my friends, is the Circle of Life!

Well, let's start up a community garden. Want to?

I have often heard of Community Gardens and when SCAP was located on 4th and Glendale right next door to the Liquor Store and the Porn shop before the police took the building for their substation, we had one.  It was really nice.  Some one tilled the area and one of the places, Lowe's I think, donated a bunch of plants. The clients would come by and water and weed and then later pick the harvest.  We all got a kick out of it and it kept them in touch with nature.  But now we are located in the Corona building and all we have is concrete and asphalt.  Enter a stranger on a Suzuki motorcycle who stands 6'7" and a Community Garden appears on the horizon.
Meet Richard.  We have a mutual friend and I found him one Sunday morning digging around in the dirt.  Well, you know me.  Nobody gets away with anything on my watch and it just looked suspicious to see this big tall guy digging in my friends yard. Nobody ever comes and digs in my yard.  So I asked my friend, "What is going on over there?"  And he told me.  So I got his number and set out on my quest for knowledge.  Soon you will know all that I know.
Richard is new to this business, but he knows what he wants to do.  He has this garden and another at his house.  His vision is to grow organic food and produce enough to feed 400 people.  And here is where it gets a little hairy.  A community garden is a community effort.  We all know that.  This is his first venture into this and this first year will entail putting a lot of ground work into place.  He has made a wish list and it seems fairly simple. So we will lay it out and look at it and see if this is feasible.
1.  He needs manure preferably Rabbit, Poultry, Cow or Horse.  Now he knows that most people raising animals give them antibotics.  These should leech out in a year or so.  He will check to see how that plays out with the people who certify the stuff to be organic.
2.  Compost.  Any chance you have a pile of that laying around that you do not use and do not need?
3.  He is going to need a tiller.  He would prefer to do this with a horse and plow, but he has no harness for the horse.  Got any of that laying around?
4.  Now hauling is going to be a problem unless he has a pick up.  He is willing to trade his bike for a small pickup preferably a Toyota or Nissan.  At least I think that is what he said.  So, if you happen to have one of those setting in the drive, let me know.

I do not know Richard very well, but from the two brief visits I had with him I found him to be very personable and very caring about the environment.  That carries a lot of weight with me.  We discussed politics briefly and I am not sure which of us is the more radical, but I do not know what that has to do with growing a watermelon, which I will depend on him to grow because I done lost my package of seeds!

So if any of you out there have any of the items he needs, suggestions that could possibly help Richard, or an idea on how to proceed with this venture,  please leave a comment or email me and I will see that he gets the information.  He is just kind of between computers at the present time.

Off to Beulah today all by my tiny little self!

Well enjoy that little slide show up there. It shows the trip to Beulah, to the coffee shop, next door to Kris Allen's house , the book exchange/library, around back of John Clay's studio and then back home again. I will hit the high spots later.

See the two signs there! That is a really big event coming up July 16 and if any of you old Hippies want to go with me, just give me a holler. There are a few little tiny rules Jan said us rowdy old souls need to obey, but I already forgot what they were so they could not have been too important. I think this might be more fun than this old heart can take.

So, back to my trip up this morning. Since I had to go water plants on that side of town, I thought "What the Hey!" and I just headed on out the highway and up the road. I left the camera in the back seat since I was all alone and thought it best if I kept eyes forward. But silly me. This is the entrance to the Beulah Valley which is the whole reason for life in Colorado. I stopped on the way back and took this and it does not do it justice at all. You can not see the depth and vastness that always make my heart leap into my throat when I see this.
(Sorry that image is not there, but google is jacking with me today.Maybe later)
I had just come past an empty field and seen a lone antelope. How sad a sight is that to see one antelope in the middle of all this vastness. I know the herd was nearby, or at least I thought so. There is just something about this part of the drive that makes me feel so very small and insignificant. I guess it is just the majesty of the mighty Rockie Mountains. They have been here since time began, I think, and I am just passing through. It is always a humbling experience.

And I am always so happy to see the little Stompin' Grounds sign and to know that Jan will be very glad to see me. I do not remember when I was up there last, but it had been a while. And she did not disappoint me.

She fixed me an egg sandwich and a cup of coffee, both great. She showed me that she was about out of products that I sell up there so I made a solemn vow to do better. I told her the latest John Lennon jokes I knew and showed her snippets I had on the camera of an upcoming blog I am working on.

Then Tom came in and I was happy to see him! See in this small little world, Tom and I go back a very long ways. He was a sailor at Hutchinson Naval Air Station in Kansas when I was in high school in Nickerson. Now we are both pretty sure we never dated, but we do not know for sure, and have no idea who to ask so we just b....s... everytime we cross paths. Now I could pop his balloon, but I am not going to. See we are both free spirited liberals and those guys are hard to find, but the truth of the matter is I never dated anyone from the base when I was in high school. I never dated anyone period. The first man I dated I married and it was down hill from there. But Tom is happy thinking we are the same age so I am not going to tell him any different.
Then a lady named Janet came in and was all excited to meet me cause she was one of those needing lotion. I will get up there next week cause why take a chance on losing a devoted customer? I wandered outside and heard Kris Allen out on her porch with her mom and Scott, so I popped over for a short visit. I will see them again at the Nature Center on Sunday.

By this time I had received 2 phone calls reminding me of obligations I had at home, so I reluctantly left the coffee shop, but I had one more stop to make. John Clay's studio. You remember he is the wood carver who also carves stone. I had not warned him that I was coming so I was not surprised to find him gone. I did wander around the yard and see some things he was working on. I was especially happy to see that he has not given up on the Dragon's Nest. He will get it done someday, I am sure. (Sorry I missed you John!)

So home to Pueblo and stop at Grocery Warehouse for yeast for an order of gluten free bread. Life does go on and it does get tedious. But I did make a vow to myself that I will be sure that I make it up to Beulah at least twice a month this summer. Jan is such a lovely person and when you stop in there you damn well better tell her Lou sent you! She is going to paint me a purple flower around the light in the ceiling right before you go down the hall to that infamous refrigerator of hers! I love that girl!

The featured artist today is my good friend Robert.

I want you to enjoy the slide show of just a few pictures that I took at the Nature Center today.  I also snapped pictures of a few memorials out there of people I knew.  Karen Straight, Jay Battle and my very good friend Craig Harmon.  I think that is so neat the way they have worked those into the wild flower gardens out there.  
But here, I want you to take a good look at these to pictures.  They were commissioned by Anna Lee and drawn by Robert.  Robert has been drawing and painting for several years now.  Anna Lee usually tries to snatch them up before anyone else has a chance to even bid.  The other one she has is a picture of his cat Beau, or Bo or Bow.  I guess I do not know how he spells it.  I wanted to put a picture of Robert with his paintings, but for reasons known only to me, I did not.  I guess Robert is some one I do not want spoiled by the trappings of the spotlight of fame.  He is just simply, my Robert and I hope to keep him that way.

One of these he calls the running duck, but I am not sure which one.  Probably the one with the blue back ground.  It just kind of looks like a running duck to me!

Well, I guess that is about it.  I just wanted to share some of this with you.  The river is up very high. Usually lower, but I guess we are letting our snow melt out to the people who actually own it.  I am not sure I understand, but who am I?  I do know this, there is a beautiful moon out there tonight and I am tired so I am going to call it an early night and put the tired little body to bed and dream some big dreams.  Sweet dreams to you!

This is just a heads up!

This is just to alert you to a blog I will be posting sometime in the next week.  I have met a most interesting fellow.  Two things you should know.  He is running a couple community gardens that are completly organic.  That is one.

The other is he is 6' 7" tall.  I told him, "You are really tall!"  and he told me "Lou, I am not really tall, you are just really, really good at being short!"

This is going to be one interesting fellow, I can almost tell.  Organic has always been a passion of mine.  Now if he can give me an organic way to remove Icarus's friend, the mouse, from my kitchen I think we may end up very best friends! 

So, stay alert, but give me about a week on this.  He is a busy man and I am a busy woman and we must remember he is up there where the oxygen is thinner!

Migrant Bags and the Migrant Education Program.

 
 

Know what those pictures right above here are?  This is the foyer of the First Baptist Church, 405 W. 9th Street,  here in Pueblo, Colorado.  These were taken Friday, June 3, 2011 in the foyer.  Now, I know it looks like a lot of trash bags there, but it is not.  This represents a labor of love by the Church Women United here in this fair city.  What is it?  It is growing season and the migrant workers are back!  With the migrant workers comes the migrant families which includes children.
These are what are called "hygiene bags".  Each one of these bags has been sewn to specifications by some one and then filled with a towel, wash cloth, bar of soap, comb, toothbrush and toothpaste.  Way back in 1967 it seems our country ran short of workers for our fields so our federal government, in their infinite wisdom,  made a deal with Mexico.  Send your families to work our fields and we will educate your children.  I will give you a link at the end so you can read up on this.
See, I thought our church did this just cause we were kind, but I finally actually listened this time.  This education program is funded by the federal government under the "No Child Left Behind Act" and is administered under the auspices of BOCES which is the acronym for Boards of Cooperative Educational Services.  This covers children ages 3-21 who are not graduated from high school.  They must be temporary or seasonal and changed districts in the last 3 years.
That is background that you can pursue, what I am here to tell you is that pile of bags up there represents 497 acts of love by 14 churches here in Pueblo.  Our women's group is the only one in Colorado that participates.  When the migrants show up at BOCES, the first question is "Where are the bags from the church ladies?"  Our reputation precedes us! BOCES runs the educational part of the program and Sister (Nameless) runs the social aspect of the migrant population.  It is at her center that the doctors volunteer their time, the bags of beans, rice and flour are passed out.  Their are diapers for the babies, computers for research and communication.  Clothes are donated and dispersed to those in need.  No money changes hands, it is all voluntary and is the one oasis in a sea of need.
I do have to tell you a little story here.  In 1978 (?) when I was newly divorced and on my own out here, my daughter came home from North Carolina with her hubby and her son.  My daughters, Patty and Dona, came up from Lakin.  Harvest on the Mesa was in full swing and this looked like an easy way to make money quick.  So Patty and Tex hopped in the old '67 Chevy which was my sole means of transportation at the time and headed for the Mesa.  8 hours later they made it back home.  They were filthy, Patty's eye was blood shot and Tex was 3 inches shorter than when they left.  Seemed their job was to pick peas.  This entailed bending over and picking peas and pulling weeds as they came to them.  Tex threw his weeds over his shoulder into Patty's eye.  Hmm.  Wages for the day was $7.20 for the two of them.  Good thing I had bought the gas for the car.
The next week they decided that they would do this again.  It was onion topping time.  This time Debbie, Patty, Dona and Tex ventured to the onion fields.  First day was a total loss as I had to buy the "onion topper cutter things" for all 4 of them.  The next day would bring me a return on my investment, so I thought.  The next day dawned and when they came home, the side of the '67
Chevy was caved in, two of the girls had black eyes and it seems that they were not to return to the fields as they were trouble makers.  I, of course, got a different story, but suffice it to say, I decided all by my tiny little self that my children were not cut out to be migrant workers.
I do however, take my hat off in a big salute to those people who do work our fields.  I would not be able to stand in one of those fields under the blazing sun for any length of time, not to mention a full day bent over up and down the rows.  There just is not that much money in the bank if you get my drift.
Well, I did a definite digression from the main topic.  So let me just get some links on here and you can educate yourself.  I was amazed at the rich history the "farm workers" have in this country.  And, yes, I did read " The Grapes of Wrath."

http://www.scboces.k12.co.us/english/Migrant/index.htm


http://coloradoboces.org/modules/cms/pages.phtml?pageid=144069&sessionid=67a54164cc99a94667d6381b97409394