Archive for February, 2014

If You Give A Psychopath A Job

If you give a psychopath a job
he’ll be sure to charm the whole office
he’ll do his duties plus some extra
just to earn your trust and make you smile

If you give a psychopath a promotion
he’ll seem elated that you did
he’ll act like he worked hard and deserved it
and never mention who he stepped on to get it

If leave a psychopath in charge
while you’re out of town to help someone else
he’ll hack all your accounts and steal all the money
from the companies fun raisers and hard earned dollars

If you press charges against a psychopath
they’ll let him go because they hate you
they’ll tell him he has to pay it back, but he wont
instead he’ll lay low and plot your demise

If you rag on and expose a psychopath
he’ll team up with two others and their girlfriends
they’ll pay a visit when it’s just you, you son and granddaughter
they’ll point guns, make you sign a note and lock you in a hotel room

If you get kidnapped by a psychopath
he’ll make you withdraw the companies money
he’ll turn it into gold coins and rent a storage
while the world is sure you stole it and ran away

If you give money to a psychopath
he’ll kill his own, they’ll find the body with out the head and hands
this will make them finally wonder about you
his girlfriend will talk then they’ll arrest and lock him up

If they threaten a psychopath with the death penalty
he’ll take them to where he buried the bodies
on a far away farm in a lonely makeshift grave
the shinny hip amongst the bones will give your identity away

If you’re the most hated woman in America murdered by a psychopath
they’ll bury you in an unmarked grave
the Christians will see it as orchestrated by God
the proud looks and cheers will drown out any tears

If you’re louder and bolder then a psychopath
the world will never forget you
someone will hear your story and be inspired
they’ll rally for liberty, justice and equality

spicy pepper


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Well, I’ve put it off, writing the second part of my live aboard days, the San Diego chronicles as I’ve just named it. Thinking about it was just to over whelming for a while because there was a lot of years in San Diego and a lot of events. I decided for a while to just write memories as they came to me so that’s what I’ve been doing. I actually plan to continue along this line for a while because it seems to be a rather good idea. So, for the time being, the San Diego chronicles will be un-chronicled, or to put it in another way, out of order. Eventually I plan to rearrange them in order when I feel I have compiled enough memories. Or, if it reads well, maybe I will leave them as they are.

I’ve already written a few so I will find them and rename then with a part two and maybe three and so on. I hope you enjoy reading them. I love feed back so please feel free to comment. Hopefully one day I can turn it all into a book. So, to make things clear the Moon Shadow – My live aboard days, San Diego Chronicles, go after the Moon shadow – My live aboard days. I’ll work on rewording the titles later. I still have a lot of proof reading to do but here it is regardless.  I also will be adding photos as I find them.

Moon Shadow – My live aboard days

The San Diego Chronicles

Part 1

Moon Shadow in San Diego                                  (The deck of the Moon Shadow.)

Life In The CNA Lane


When I was 15, still lived on the Moon Shadow (a 41′ sail boat) in Gloretta Bay, San Diego I found an add in the paper advertising a ROP (Regional Occupation Program) class being held at the San Diego Community Collage. It was a CNA/HHA class. Since it was an ROP class I knew it would be free except for books and such. I’ve never had an interest in anything medical related, but my sister did. However, she had gotten her CHSPE (high school equivalent diploma) when she was sixteen and hadn’t perused anything since. At this time she would have been 18. I knew if I signed up for something she would too so I decided to help her out with out her knowing it. I didn’t even tell my parents what my true goal was. I just showed them the add and told them I wanted to sign up for it. Everything worked out like a charm. Once my sister found out my mom was taking me to the community collage to sign up for the class she said she wanted to do it too.

The collage administration didn’t want me to sign up at first because I wasn’t 18 or over but my mom read through the paper work and there was no age limit so they had to allow me to sign up. The program was a crash course. We would be attending the classes Monday through Thursday eight hours each day. The first half of the course was held in a class room and some lab rooms at the community collage and the later half of the class was held at Kearny Mesa Nursing Home.


The first day the class was so filled students were standing in the hall way. We were introduced to our two teaches and teacher assistant. There were a lot of firm instructions and words about what they wouldn’t put up with. Each day we returned the teachers assistant got harder and harder on us. Neither my sister nor I felt threatened by her because we were taught to work hard and we knew we would be doing out best so there was no reason for anyone to rightfully get upset with us. Each day the number of students dropped, many of them just couldn’t take the teachers assistant, she was too hard on them. Though we saw all this take place there was just something about that teachers assistant that didn’t seem opposing to us, I think we just found the whole thing amusing, not to say we weren’t serious, but still amusing.

It wasn’t long before all the remaining students had seats with a few extra empty ones. Once it became clear that the remaining students were determined to stay the teachers assistant let us in on a little secret. Besides being a teachers assistant her other job was to get rid of anyone who might possibly not really want to be there or were there for the wrong reasons. California convalescent homes were tired of hiring people who didn’t care about their job and didn’t care about the people they were taking care of. The ROP program decided to try some thing new with it’s CNA training and weed out the folks who had the wrong attitude. It was a great idea, but I believe it wasn’t something that remained in practice in the years to come. However, for our class, I would say I was the only person there who didn’t really want to be there. I didn’t dare consider leaving the program because my dad told me that if I failed I would have to repeat the class and I hated it enough to push myself real hard so that wouldn’t happen. This all may sound bad but just because I didn’t really want to be a CNA didn’t mean I would work less hard or care less for the people I took care of. That was not part of my personality, I always believed in doing my best and treating people with kindness no matter how I felt about the job itself.

When the teachers assistant let us in on their secret all but one of us in the class informed her we had actually gotten to like her. She thought that was terrible but funny. One of the girls was very intimidated by her but managed to stay regardless. She was also the only one who cried through the movie about how to cope with sorrow when a patient dies. The rest of us were trying desperately to muffle our laughs at the really old movie with the hilarious lala chorus in the background. It was so awful it was funny.

The most difficult time for me was the class room work and tests. I would take my book home, do the homework, study for the test and make notes and study more on the buss. My sister wouldn’t study till we were on the buss going to school. Then she’d ask me for my notes, read them and get an A. I’d usually get a C.


We usually took the city bus to school. At first we took it to Down Town SanDiego and walked the rest of the way to the collage. It wasn’t the safest feeling thing to do but it was ok. Then we discovered we could take the bus to the trolly station, transfer onto the trolly and get off right across the street form the school. Once the class finished the class room and lab work we had to take two buses to get to Kearny Mesa for hands on training at the nursing home.

Since it took much longer to get there we had to get up earlier. My family isn’t known for timeliness, actually they are better known for being late. We would row our dingy to a beach near the road, my mom would take the dingy back and my sister and I would walk down a short strip of road and up a small hill to where the buss stop was. We usually did this in a hurry. There was this one day we had started walking on the road and the bus passed us. There were several other folks who would get on the bus so I ran for it. I hadn’t ran in a long time but managed to sprint in record time up the hill. AS I got to the top of the hill I shouted to the last people boarding the bus to have it wait for us. I could tell they tried but the bus driver drove off regardless. My sister had to coach me back into breathing correctly because I had outdone myself and was barley able to suck air in.

We got ourselves together and came up with a plan. The class required so many hours in order to graduate and neither of us wanted to have to go back and make up time so we decided we would walk real fast to the bus stop across town just before the Coronado Bay Bridge. We knew the bus had to go around to North Island so if we were just fast enough we should make it. No matter how tired out we were we walked that mile as fast as we could. We arrived at the bus stop not really knowing if we had made it or not and sat down to breath. Then, the bus went flying by. Boy were we mad! So, we ended up waiting till the next bus came and just hoped that being late wouldn’t kill our hours too much. As it turned out we were fine in the long run. I believe we were only late maybe one or two times more. I can only remember one other time and it was because our bus got in an accident.

197476_10150126708194834_739775_n                                             (My mom in the dingy.)

The bus rides were actually quite interesting. Not so much the ride there. On the way there the bus from Coronado to Down Town San Diego was nice, clam and quiet. Then we got out and waited for the Kearny Mesa bus at dawn. It might have felt unsafe except there was always a group of Jehovah’s witnesses out witnessing to people and while they would normally seem annoying their presence just made it feel a little safer. Then the Kearny Mesa bus would pick us up. This was the long ride and I usually went to sleep. Sometimes my sister and I would try to take turns on who got to sleep but I think I usually went to sleep anyway. She said one time I fell asleep and leaned my head forward then turned it sideways as if there was an invisible pillow floating there for me to lay my head on. She told me she felt bad for me so she placed her hand there for my head to rest on. Aw, I have a sweet sister! Most the folks on the bus became aware of each others stops and we would wake who ever it was that didnt wake and make sure they got off at the right place. Though the seats were hard the ride was quiet and serene and had nice folks aboard. However, the Kearny Mesa bus home was a complete different story.

Coronado to Kearny Mesa                                                                  (Map of Coronado to Kearny Mesa)


We would arrive while the morning air was still chilled and wait outside for the nursing home doors to unlock. They served coffee and because it was so darn early and I was working like an adult I took decided I deserved a small styrofoam cup of coffee at the start of my work day. My sister being the big sister she is had a little fit over it and insisted I not drink coffee since I was only 15 and if I didn’t listen she would tell mom and dad. My sister was good at telling on both of us. Normally I did what ever my sister told me to but in this case I drank the coffee regardless and continued to every day before work. She never actually told on me.


We all trained and worked hard at that nursing home. Though it was hard manual work I still found it easier then doing the class book work. Taking pulses and blood pressure was the hardest part. I just was never very good at it. Still when it came time for our review the teachers told me they were very impressed with my work. My sister on the other hand struggled with this part. We always got a kick out of how she could manage the class work but struggled with the manual work while I was just the opposite. Often when folks meet both of us we come off exactly alike. We never looked alike but our mannerisms and the way we talk is the same. They would comment on how alike we were and we’d either tell them or just think, “just wait!”. Sure enough with a little getting to know us they would learn just how opposite we really were. Growing up so close together on the boat and often being each others only friend naturally made us seem so much alike.


The trip home on the Kearny Mesa bus was always an event. Soon after we boarded the bus the bus would pick up quite a number of mentally handicap people who were getting off work. They were always lively and something interesting was always going on. Then when we got closer to Downtown and the mentally handicap folks had already gotten off there would be a number of different odd people who would get on the bus and just about anything could happen. We liked the mentally handicap folks much better because although they did odd things most of them were pretty nice and safe to be around. But, the folks who got on after that weren’t always so safe feeling or nice.

There was this one meritorious day that I will never forget. It was on the way home. The bus picked up most of the mentally handicap folks and one of them became particularly loud. He started picking off people who were sitting together and asking very loudly, “YOU LIKE?” over and over while pointing full arm and finger at the folks he was talking at. He would eventually change sets of people and continue the inquisition. Everyone on board tried to sink into their seats and not be noticed and pointed out, me included. But I was pure out of luck that day. He spotted me and the guy I didn’t know sitting next to me and we were questioned over and over again until he had to get off. I couldn’t wait to get on the quiet serene seat cushioned Coronado bus and go home. But, like I said, I was pure out of luck. If my memory serves me right, I believe we missed the bus and had to wait for the next one. It was one of those places where a bunch of buses stop one right after another in just about any order so you try to see what numbers are there so you know wither to go forward or back ward to get your bus and like that day we just didn’t hit it right and it drove off before we could get to her. Once on board we had a sigh of relief as we sank into our somewhat comfortable seats and settled in for the short ride across the bridge. The bus home was normally almost full but everyone was always very quite and polite. This day I had to sit away from my sister on the sideways seats. I sat next to what seemed a normal looking lady until she turned to me and directly in my ear yelled at the top of her voice, “DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?” And that was the start of it. She yelled in my ear all the way home. The short trip felt like forever. Later that month my sister and I were waiting for the Coronado bus home in the rain when some fellow busers (I may have made that word up.) offered for us to stand under their umbrella with them. While standing there chatting they told me they were on the bus the day the lady screamed at me all the way home and that they had felt very badly for me. We all got a good laugh out of it.


When we had been doing the class room work we had two teachers. One told stories a lot and was fun and easy to learn from. The other hardly ever told stories, was monotone and a little grumpy making it difficult to pay attention to her. The one with the stories was really quite exciting. She taught a lot of thing I used in situations other then work, just life situations. Her story relating on how to deal with grief was far better then the silly movie they showed us. She had involved with one of the most notorious plane crashes up to that date. She was one of the people who had to go through and identify body part from the wreckage. She told us how she felt fine, like she was ok. But her husband knew better and insisted she stay in her room and type out what she saw till she broke. And eventually she did. She let us know who important it is to face what you’ve been through instead of burring it even though our mind might try to tell us it’s not necessary. She had also been an ER nurse during the Watts Riots and had stories and examples to use to help us learn and be ready.

I remember this one gross story she told to help us understand why cleaning the patient properly was so very important. She had a patient once who had never had her toes cleaned and when she went to clean them there were worms living in-between her toes. Man, I thought that was just about the grossest thing I had heard. When I got assigned my first patient she was a total care agitated older lady. Thankfully there were no worms between her toes, but, I do believe no one had ever cleaned between her toes. They were full of gunk and wreaked a horrible foul stench that would stick in my nose. It was truly awful. I made sure to clean between her toes everyday and eventually the smell faded and went away.


That lovely lady also punched me in the face once too. She didn’t like participating in anything even being washed. So when I would wash under her arm she would tense her muscles making it very difficult to pull her arm out so I could wash her. I don’t think it had anything to do with being ticklish because she was like that with everything. This one day while holding her elbow up to wash under her arm she released her arm and that’s how I got punched in the face. I was ok. After the shock of what happened I thought it was funny. I spent a lot of my time there feeding her. She had o teeth and her food was only things that could be swallowed. Still, she insisted on chewing every single bite for a very very long time. Before she became “my” patient the nurse assistants didn’t have time to really feed her. They would stick a bite in her mouth and then go do something else and return from time to time to put another bite in their mouth. So by the time the food was removed she would only have had a few bites. Though this seems awful and in humane they really didn’t have time for her because they had many other patients they needed to care for. This was why when I did graduate I didn’t want to work in a nursing home. I couldn’t stand the idea of not really being able to care for the people I was supposed to care for.

The room mate of “my” patient was a lady who was about to turn 102. She had lovely long white hair and was one of the most aware put together people in that home. She considered her total care agitated neighbor her friend and often prayed for her. Though she wasn’t one of my patients I did help her from time to time and we chatted often. She told me that for her 103’d birthday she wanted to join her husband. From what I heard later on she got her wish.

I also often took care of a lady next door to the one I was assigned to. She was a German lady and only about 40 years old. She had a stroke and lost the use of her left side and her ability to speak English though she could still understand it. She was the most demanding patient on that floor and although she was attended to often you could almost always hear her calling out into the hall for the nurse. Though she was impossible to please I would attend to her when ever I could. Her husband visited her daily and would wheel her outside for a walk. She seemed to adore him. One day while looking for something of hers while getting her ready for her husbands visit I found some lipstick. I asked her if she wanted to wanted to wear it. She brightened up and let me know she did. For a few days I put it on her. She actually seemed nicer after that. Then one day I asked her if she wanted to put it on herself and she did. It was so curious to see that she would only put the lipstick on half her lips, the half she could feel. I would finish it for her of course. Gosh, I was 15 then, now I’, 43 and I think back on how I knew she was considered young, but I had no idea how young.


After the nursing home training ended we had a short period of time where we did some Home Health Aid training. My sister and I were assigned to this one company and a particular lady who would take us with her on her patient visits. I do believe this was the first time I ever saw a naked man. I wasn’t concerned about it. I had been cleaning old ladies and when one works in this field they often have to clean men as well. For me it was just a part of the job. I could clean a grown persons fecal matter so really not much else phased me. My sister was almost terrified and tried to protect me by blocking the view which she failed at but I was fine.


Soon after the HHA training we were individually called in to speak with the two teachers. They told me that from the beginning because of my age they knew I would fail. I had no idea they felt this way because they never once showed it. Then they told me they were very surprised and happy that I actually made it, I passed! Both my sister and I got our CNA/HHA certificates and pins and didn’t have to come back! It was a good day!


The biggest insult my sister and I encountered as CNA’s was when someone asked us what a CNA was and a Navy Seal corpsman named Al answered and said in a rather condescending tone that it was the same as a candy striper. I respect what candy stripers do but after such a grueling class it was just a mean insult. We both had a crush on Al up until that point. I’m pretty sure my sister didn’t know this cause I was in the habit of not telling anyone about who I liked. I think Al was trying to impress another girl we were with at our expense. Later he turned out to be a very nice guy.


My sister was hired at the Coronado Nursing home and worked there for a year. She was kind enough one day to share her life with us and brought us all home a lovely thing called scabies. Boy was that a nightmare. It took two full applications of Lindane lotion from head to toe to finally get rid of those buggers. It’s the same stuff you use for lice. My mom was allergic to it so she had to use the stuff you use in it’s place. One of the things that made it so difficult was that we had to shower at the public pool and apply the lotion in on e of their cold cement dressing stalls. Thankfully the second application of the lotion worked.

Another thing I remember about my sisters job was when she was pulled aside by her boss and told that the other employees were irritated that she didn’t wear underwear under her uniform. My sister was god-smacked. She always wore underwear. We had been taught that when one wore white you were to wear either white or beige underpants and she just happened to often wear beige ones. I mean, who would want colored or polka dots showing through their white uniform.

My sister didn’t stay longer then a year because of the same reason I refused to work in a nursing home. She was getting in trouble for taking to much time with each patient. She felt wrong just to leave them be when they needed her and go on to the next one. So she let the job go but still had a good reference.


My mom found me a job though some folks she knew. It was an old German lady who was mostly comatose. Sometimes she would wake and her family would speak to her in German. She lived with her elderly daughter and son-in-law. Her son would often visit. Her daughter was afraid of leaving her alone but desperately needed time to grocery shop and have a few moments to herself. So, my job was to just be there with er so she wouldn’t be alone. I was encouraged to bring reading material which I did. I had just started a Christian mystery novel called The Case Of The Frozen Scream. It didn’t take me long to rethink my reading material choice after getting to the scary part and there I was sitting with a dying woman in a little room with small windows up high near the ceiling. However, my time with her was cut short.



After only having that job a few days I called in to let them know I was on the way but would be about five minutes late. The daughters husband answered and was so glad it was me. He told me his wife had taken her mother to the hospital and had been there for a very long time and he was worried that she needed a break and encouraged me to hurry on to the hospital. She was happy to see me and was in need of a dinner break. I sat in the chair by the dying lady and read the six first chapters from the book of John to her from the Bible. Eventually her nurse came in and asked me to feed her so she could attend to other patients. I happily agreed. She showed me how to feed her using a syringe that sucked up the food and then you could gently squeeze it into her mouth. The woman breath was a slow long inhale and exhale and irregular so feeding her was a little tricky because I didn’t want her to choke. I had only been able to give her about two “bites” when her long awaited inhale just didn’t come. I’d never been real confident with my skills at taking people pulse but I gave it a few tries but couldn’t fine one. I believed she had died but as a certified CNA it was made very clear to us that we could never diagnose or we could be sued. So I went out of the room to find her nurse but couldn’t. I finally found some nurses at a near by station and tried to tell them what had happened with out actually saying it. I came out some thing like, “she isn’t breathing like she was before.” The went to check on her then called in the doctor. After the doctor left one of the very curt nurses walked briskly up to me and in a very firm matter of fact tone said, “you know she’s dead don’t ya?” I shook my head yes. Soon the daughter and son came in and went into her room. Either before they walked in or after I let the daughter know I had read the first few chapters of John to her before she passed. I had called my dad to pick me up so when I left he was waiting in the car outside. I felt fine the whole time, a bit awkward, but fine. However once I sat down in the car I began shaking all over. I told him how odd I thought that was and he assured me it wasn’t really odd at all. A few weeks later I was contacted by the lady who hired me and asked to come to her house for tea and to talk about her mom. She had an old odd home right on the bay. The back patio, yard and garden were very lovely and like walking back in time. She had some nice patio furniture and we sat out there drinking tea together. She told me she read the passages I had read to her mom and exclaimed, “that was a lot!” She expressed her gratefulness for me being with her mom so her mom didn’t die alone which was her biggest concern.


My next job was for a couple who lived in the Coronado Shores, a high rise condo building that my dad was a graveyard shift doorman for. They had two homes, one in Coronado and I don’t recall where the other one was. The man was from Turkey and was an architect. His work was in the other location but his wife was ill and needed to stay in the warmer climate so he needed someone to stay with her when he was gone. He was very frugal and me being only 15 with out a drivers license and much experience meant he didn’t have to pay me much. He was very uncomfortable to be around but it was fine because when I was there he was gone except for the few minutes when he was on the way out or in. His wife was a rather pleasant person.

the coronado shores  (A picture of the Coronado shores building my dad and I worked in taken from our boat.)

I wasn’t very experienced at cooking yet. My cooking experience on the boat was on a two burner propane stove only. Later I would become the families main cook but up till this time I was still sharing the responsibility with my mom and sister. I had either little to no experience with a microwave and I was completely fascinated with it. I was curious and happy to discover they even had recipe book for it too. The lady had a frig full of frozen microwave meals which I thought were great. Later she became a little annoyed that I rarely cooked for her. I’m not sure how I was supposed to do that thought with out a car and money to shop for groceries but such is life.

I was also happy to be able to watch TV late at night after she went to bed. We didn’t have a TV so it was quite fun. I would watch some of the old black and white comedy variety shows and Moonlighting with Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd was on then so I got hooked on that too. I sure thought Bruce was cute.

Though I wasn’t hired on as a maid I still had to make sure things were kept nice. The lady I took care of had eagle eyes and could spot a dead moth the same color of the carpet under the shades on the floor. She wouldn’t rest till I could find it and dispose of it or what ever else she may have spotted. As tedious as that was I didn’t mind because mostly I had an easy job.


One day I dressed in my new outfit I was proud to have. It was a pink pair of baggy cotton pants and a matching pink and black striped large blouse. Sound ridiculous now but I thought I looked darn good then. I didn’t get new stuff much so I felt extra good. I wasn’t allowed to wear tight or fitted clothes so I was accustomed to baggy things. I had found a recipe book in the kitchen on how to make deserts and sweets using the microwave. I was excited to give it a try. I had been taught to bake and even make candy but microwaves are or so I thought, a whole different thing. I found a recipe for a sweet I wasn’t familiar with called divinity. It looked scrumptious in the pictures. So, there I was in the kitchen that the man who hired me had designed with a bowel of hot goo in the microwave…that I burned. It was starting to smoke up the kitchen and I knew the lady I took care of would have a big problem with this. After all she was on oxygen. So I immediately tried to stop the smoke by putting the hot bowl of burned goo under the faucet and turning the cold tap on it. Boom! It exploded all over me, all over the walls, all over the counter, there was black goo everywhere and the smoke didn’t get much better. I opened the windows, turned the fan on and heard the lady call from her bedroom and say some thing about the smoke. That’s when the virtual timer started. I had from the time she walked from her bedroom and then down the hall to clean the entire gooey mess. I wish I had a camera recording me back then cause I still can’t figure out how I was able to do it but I did. I finished cleaning the kitchen then shimmed past her with my back to her so she would see the mess on my clothes and into the bathroom to change. We got some extra fans and she never spotted the tiny gray dot I couldn’t get out of the kitchen wall and everything turned out ok. Later my folks told me what my big mistake was so I tried the divinity microwave recipe one more time and it came out ok. Not good, but ok.


There was a big young guy that would come by once a week to replace the oxygen tanks. He seemed like the type that may have been bullied as a kid and looked over. We chat while he changed the tanks and then he’d go. One day he asked me out. I wasn’t real happy about this cause I didn’t like hurting peoples feelings. I let him know I wasn’t interested in going out with him as nice as I could but he took offense and pouted from then on. It made it very awkward when ever he came over. It was because of people like him that I was terrified of ever telling a guy that I liked him. I was sure that if he didn’t like me back I would lose his friendship and I didn’t want that to happen so I always kept it to myself. Some folks may think that was a good thing, but I would disagree. While being shy and quiet may keep one out of trouble at times, it also makes one miss good opportunities and experiences.


My job was only for a few month while the ladies husband had to be away. When he had finished his work and came home as he handed me my last check he told me he thought he paid me to much anyway. That was his goodbye. I couldn’t have had a happier bike ride to where I was meeting up with my folks. Even though the lady was pleasant I was happy to be free from their frustration with me not having a drivers license and the stress of her husband being rather rude. I think really I was quite pinned up way up high in that high rise condo for several days a week. It was just nice to get out and be able to stay out.


I didn’t do anymore CNA/HHA or companion work after that and neither did my sister. But the training wasn’t wasted on us. We both found a lot of use and knowledge from what we learned for everyday life. It served us well when we were missionaries at an orphanage in Mexico and other jobs and situations and especially when we became moms.

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I grew up hearing stories of Christian martyrs and Christians being persecuted both in the past and the present and of course the Bible warns us of it happening in the future as well.

Sure, I knew about the Crusades and the Inquisition and atrocities done in the past in the name of Christ, but as a Protestant type Christian those horrors were chalked off to it being done by Catholics. And the “witch” hunts were chalked off to it really being about greed and property and people who claimed to be Christian but obviously weren’t.

I had been told about Madalyn Murray Ohair and how she was responsible for taking “prayer out if the schools” but I was never taught about what sparked her to do this, and I wasn’t told about the atrocities done to her, her children and her family by modern day Christians. Personally I never thought kids should be forced to pray in public schools or read from the Bible but still I was taught that Madalyn Murray Ohair was basically a bad person with an evil agenda.

If you are a Christian then you believe Jesus is real. If you are a Christian then you know to obey Jesus. Those two things are very important to being a Christian. Or at least that’s the idea I grew up believing. Jesus gave an example on how to live that most are familiar with and refereed to as “turning the other cheek.” I know many Christians today who still live that philosophy. But, just because there are “good” Christians doesn’t mean Christianity as a whole is actually good. Christianity like other religions is a political agenda and political agendas are corrupt. They are a mold, or better yet a cancer that eats away at anything and everything. While one may point at the mold and say they are not a part of it, when they look at what their religion is really about, stop making excuses, stop rewriting the parts of their holy book they don’t like, when and if they can step back and really see what it is, they can not deny it is a system designed to take over, control and corrupt.

The atrocities done to Madalyn Murray Ohair and her family are a result of religion in general. Of bringing up ones children and oneself void of independent thought. While some Christians will point out the scriptures like I did about turning the other cheek and the power of love this does not dismiss the other scriptures that actually back up what has been done in the name of Christ to people and groups who oppose or disagree with Christian ideas, beliefs and policies.

Once again this could be chalked off to the ugly past. But is it really in the past? There are many Christians taking a stand to the notorious Westboro Baptist Church and that’s great. But it doesn’t start and stop with WBC. I’m sorry to inform you “good” Christians, but you have lots and lots of brothers and sisters who are just as guilty. I am a part of several “atheist” groups online. I have read about and seen the comments written by Christians to various atheists and it’s extremely ugly. The persecution BY Christians, I’m sorry to say, is far from over.

I also have to wonder sometimes about the people who post things about how much better it was “back in the day.” I’ve joked about how many of the kids who supposedly had it better are now on meds, but the subject of persecution and bullying is very serious. It wasn’t ok then and it’s not ok now.

If you are the “good” Christian type or any other religion for that matter and you want to know what to do to stop this crime against humanity from continuing, I can suggest a few things, but I’m sure you can brain storm about it too and come up with your own ideas. After all, I doubt I am talking many if anyone out of their religion so I may as well encourage you in your goodness and pursuit of love for all mankind.

Getting together with you church and brain storming about ideas in how to educate the members and community about this issue would be a good start. I must warn some of you though that some churches will ignore you, patronize you or even tell you to stop and if you don’t they may even kick you out and use you as an example in forth coming sermons. In that case you could start up a think tank at the local community center and I’m sure there are many Unitarian Universalist members who would be happy to help out as well.

Another idea is to get material together about this subject for private religious schools. Make the positive side of ones religion something taught in religious schools.

It just might work! Ignoring and ignorance will only breed more bad blood.



An exert from the Article titled Madalyn Murray O’Hair – Playboy Interview 1965, found at http://www.antitheists.co.uk/madalyn-murray-ohair-playboy-interview.php. I strongly suggest you go to the link and read the whole interview.

PLAYBOY: Because of your success in persuading the Supreme Court to outlaw school prayer in public schools, many outraged Christians seem to feel that’s just where you belong. What made you decide to pursue your suit in the face of this predictable indignation?

MURRAY: I was shamed into it by my son, Bill, who came to me in 1960 — he was 14 then — and said: “Mother, you’ve been professing that you’re an atheist for a long time now. Well, I don’t believe in God either, but every day in school I’m forced to say prayers, and I feel like a hypocrite. Why should I be compelled to betray my beliefs?” I couldn’t answer him. He quoted the old parable to me: “It is not by their words, but by their deeds that ye shall know them” — pointing out that if I was a true atheist, I would not permit the public schools of America to force him to read the Bible and say prayers against his will. He was right. Words divorced from action supporting them are meaningless and hypocritical. So we began the suit. And finally we won it. I knew it wasn’t going to make me the most popular woman in Baltimore, but I sure as hell didn’t anticipate the tidal wave of virulent, vindictive, murderous hatred that thundered down on top of me and my family in its wake.

PLAYBOY: Tell us about it.


MURRAY: God, where should I begin? Well, it started fairly predictably with economic reprisals. Now, I’d been a psychiatric social worker for 17 years, but within 24 hours after I started the case, I was fired from my job as a supervisor in the city public welfare department. And I was unable to find another one, because the moment I would go in anywhere in town and say that my name was Madalyn Murray no matter what the job opening, I found the job filled; no matter how good my qualifications, they were never quite good enough. So my income was completely cut off. The second kind of reprisal was psychological. The first episode was with our mail, which began to arrive, if at all, slit open and empty — just empty envelopes. Except for the obscene and abusive letters from good Christians all over the country, calling me a bitch and a Lesbian and a Communist for instituting the school-prayer suit — they somehow arrived intact, and by the bushel-basketful. Hundreds of them actually threatened our lives; we had to turn a lot of them over to the FBI, because they were obviously written by psychopaths. and you couldn’t be sure whether or not they were going to act on their very explicit threats. None did, but it didn’t help us sleep any better at night.


Neither did the incredible anonymous phone calls we’d get at every hour of the day and night, which were more or less along the same lines as the letters. One of them was a particular gem. I was in the VA hospital in Baltimore and I had just had a very critical operation; they didn’t think I was going to make it. They had just wheeled me back to my bed after two days in the recovery room when this call came in for me, and somebody who wouldn’t give his name told me very seriously and sympathetically that my father had just died and that I should be prepared to come home and take care of my mother. Well, I called home in a state of shock, and my mother answered, and I asked her about Father, and she said, “What are you talking about? He’s sitting here at this moment eating bacon and eggs.” Obviously, that call had been calculated to kill me, because whoever it was knew that I was at a low ebb there in the hospital.

Then they began to take more direct action. My Freethought Society office was broken into; our cars were vandalized repeatedly; every window in the house was broken more times than I can count, every flower in my garden trampled into the ground all my maple trees uprooted; my property looked like a cyclone had hit it. This is the kind of thing that went on constantly, constantly, over a three-year period. But it was just child’s play compared to the reprisals visited upon my son Bill. He’d go to school every day and hand in his homework, and a couple of days later many of his teachers would say to him, “You didn’t hand in your homework.” Or he’d take a test and about a week later many of his teachers would tell him, “You didn’t hand in your test paper. You’ll have to take the test again this afternoon.” This was a dreadful reprisal to take against a 14-year-old boy. It got to the point where he had to make carbon copies of all his homework and all his tests to prove that he had submitted them. But that’s nothing to what happened after school, both to him and to his little brother, Garth. I lost count of the times they came home bloodied and beaten up by gangs of teenage punks; five and six of them at a time would gang up on them and beat the living hell out of them. Many’s the time I’ve stood them off myself to protect my sons, and these fine young Christians have spat in my face till spittle dripped down on my dress. Time and again we’d take them into magistrate’s court armed with damning evidence and eyewitness testimony, but the little bastards were exonerated every time.

But I haven’t told you the worst. The neighborhood children, of course, were forbidden by their parents to play with my little boy, Garth, so I finally got him a little kitten to play with. A couple of weeks later we found it on the porch with its neck wrung. And then late one night our house was attacked with stones and bricks by five or six young Christians, and my father got very upset and frightened. Well, the next day he dropped dead of a heart attack. The community knew very well that he had a heart condition, so I lay a murder to the city of Baltimore.


I decided that we’d have to take our chances with the law and get the hell out of Baltimore. I thought of seeking asylum in Canada or Australia or England, but I didn’t want to leave the United States, because for better or worse I’m an American, and this is my land; so I decided to fight it out on home ground, and finally we hit upon Hawaii, because of the liberal atmosphere created by its racial admixture, and because of its relatively large population of Buddhists, who are largely nontheistic, and might therefore be more tolerant of our views. So we packed up all the worldly possessions we could carry with us and took the next flight to Hawaii from Washington.

PLAYBOY: How many were in your party?


MURRAY: Six of us — my mother, my brother, my two sons, Bill’s wife and me. And I can tell you, it took just about every cent we had to our name just to pay the plane fare. When we arrived, we had about $15 left among us. We were really in pitiful shape. But we were together, and we were alive, and this was all that mattered.


RIP Madalyn Murray O’Hair 1919-1995


For more information on the life of  Madalyn Murray O’Hair visit http://www.patheos.com/blogs/friendlyatheist/2013/04/28/remembering-madalyn-murray-ohair-the-founder-of-american-atheists/.

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I just went through the article called 7 Gross Things They Never Tell You About Childbirth. You can find it at –


My comments were a bit lengthy so I thought they belonged on my own blog. Here’s what I have to say about each one.

1. There were things I wasn’t told, that’s for sure.

2. I didn’t need a catheter, I didn’t have an epidural. When I had to pee I just went in the toilet.

3. This is true, one does usually mess themselves but it’s not a lot, usually.

4. Yep! Some how someone forgot to tell me that after I birthed my baby I would have to birth my placenta as well. After birthing my first born the mid wife let me know that I had to push again to get the placenta out and I said “no.” I still had to do it though and once it did come out it felt really good not to have it in me any more. And that whole “massage” thing where they push on you belly every now and then to get more stuff out actually feels really good cause it feels good to get what ever wants to come out OUT! lol Funny but true.

5. This happened to me on my third kid. O U C friken H! The placenta was stuck in me and ever time the cord touched my vaginal area it felt like it was slicing me up. They knocked me out before removing it which I was very grateful for. On my fourth baby my friend (who was also present for the third baby) informed me that if I nursed my  little one right away not only would the after birth contractions (another one I hadn’t been told about) kick in sooner but my placenta would detach better. I still don’t know why she didn’t tell me that with the other kid but now I know.

6. Yeah, I don’t remember if I knew this one or not but I did learn likely from my sister that witch hazel pads placed over the sanitary napkins really cool the vaginal area and feel really good.

7. True, those bottles are great. It feels nice to clean yourself off and although you don’t want to wipe you can blot dry very carefully.

8. An Episiotomy hurts like hell fire!!! Tearing isn’t so noticeable. I’ve gone through both. You’re supposed to have a local pain killer when you get stitched up which I do think is a good idea. But for me, the needle for the local hurts like crazy and never quite does the job. But what I could feel of the stitches since the local never numbs me all the way was still better then the local needle it’s self so I wouldn’t say anything and just get through the stitches pain.

There should be a number 10 for the contractions you go through for the next couple days. I used to just hate them but by my last kid I would just envision my belly going back to normal every time a after birth contraction hit and it helped me take the pain.

I have to add an 11 as well and it would be when you first start nursing it hurts like crazy, well, not right away but your nipples get dry and aren’t used to it and it’s very painful. But when you get through it the nipples stop chapping and the pain goes away and it feels great to have the heavy milk drained by a loving adorable baby.

And then I would add an 12 which would be about breast milk again wither you nurse or not, you will manufacture milk and you will leak milk and you will be sticky and messy and sometimes cold for a while. At night I had a bunch of tee shirts I could change into and I would put a cloth diaper folded up just so in my shirt over my breast to soak up the milk so I could sleep with out feeling wet and cold all the time. When going out there are different kinds of breast pads, cloth and disposable, one can stick in their bra and wear to catch most of the milk. But it’s only fair every mom have a few days where the breast pad doesn’t catch it all and the cashier at the store has to tell you your leaking.

If birthing a child is just too scary and icky for you and even if it’s not, if you want kids I hope you would consider adopting a child that is already born and is unwanted with no one to love and care for them.


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I saw this add for an event staring Bob Lenz an inspirational speaker and AJ the Animated illusionist somewhere. Something screamed out in my mind, “Christian Event!” So I moved on.

Then my daughter came home from school with a ticket to the free event being held at the community center between the high and middle school. She said they performed at assembly and it was really fun and funny and wanted to go to the event that evening. She also informed us there would be free pizza! I already had a P&T conference scheduled at the near by elementary school for my son so I agreed to take them. My other two kids didn’t want to go and that was fine. They both like having their own quiet time so it was a good plan.

After the P&T meeting we drove over to the other two schools and lucked out on finding a parking place. We also lucked out that although it was snowing it wasn’t freezing out. In the building foyer there was a table was set up with materials, a drawing for unnamed prizes and some rubber bracelets with an inspirational saying and a hot line. Someone handed me a business card about who to call if your pregnant and said something about how I might need it. ??? The main part of the assembly hall was almost full with some stragglers standing at the back and a few on the back upper seats. Teen girls were darting here and there and families were busy finding seats and chatting with each other. Kyle, my eight year old spotted a school mate. Before I could mentally prepare myself I was looking into the face of the lady I had a confrontation with at one of his school parties.

At that notorious party, she and I had found we had a lot in common. She “knew” it was the Lord who had set this up. I had remained silent about that. Why knock her happiness. She had wanted to know what church I attended as if everyone in the entire world automatically goes to church. At the time I was actually attending the nearest Unitarian Universalist so I told her that. She went on to invite me to her church which apparently was better than all other churches. It would have been fine to be invited but she wouldn’t stop. She started insisting I visit her church. Finally I turned to her and said, “I will never go to your church.” I did try to say it nice but I don’t think saying that can actually sound nice no matter what tone you use. She looked completely shocked. She never called me later which was actually quite fine with me.

So, there she was, in my face, at the assembly. It would appear that her “circle” is very small cause when I say in my face I mean it literally. Kara had found a seat next to her friends near the front and Kyle was determined to sit with his friend. Although I didn’t want to hang out with that lady it was fine with me. However it turned out the lady was sitting in a place with only two extra seats and at the time I still thought Kara was going to sit with us so we found seats elsewhere.

AJ the Animated illusionist(AJ the Animated illusionist)

The show began with the crowed giving quite an enthusiastic applause for a lady who seemed a bit shocked. She introduced the show, told us we were not allowed to film any of it and then exited. A short man with a thick frock of blond hair came out and started performing mime style illusion tricks. Though it started off slow he turned out to be quite a fun entertainer. He even brought out an adorable dog for one of his acts. The whole thing was done with various kinds of appropriate music. Finally he did an act with Katie Perry’s song called Unconditionally blaring loudly in the back ground. When the trick was over and the music volume lowered he began speaking. He had a few things to say in praise of the song and then introduced his next act.

AJ the Animated illusionist dog (AJ the Animated illusionist adorable doggie.)

His next act was a mine that would take us through the entire Bible from beginning to end in just two and a half minutes, he told us. I couldn’t help thinking, “I KNEW IT!” In actuality he took us through the beginning of Genesis then skipped to the New Testament. He did a good job of showing the wall of separation between God and Man and Christs death and resurrection breaking the wall and rejoining man to God.

After this act he introduced the main speaker Bob Lenz. Bob shared how all different kinds of local church denominations had put money together to have this show here and how wonderful that was. He did his own act portraying different kinds of people in need of the same thing, Love. It was done rather humorously thus keeping the audience attention but still making a strong point. Then he went on with explaining how we all have a need to be loved, we all have a hole in our heart that needs to be filled, we are all born sinners, and so on and that only Jesus Christ can fill that hole, forgive us and fulfill our lives and make them worth while. He also gave a good plug for Compassion International. At the end he asked for those who wanted to ask Jesus into their lives to raise their hands and did the sinners prayer with them and handed out material to everyone and a special one to those who raised their hands.

Bob Lenz event(Bob Lenz event poster.)

During the inspirational (more like sermon) part I had a varied amount of thoughts and feelings. One was of being trapped and wanting to get out. Another of being willing to have a few words to say if there was a question and answer time at the end. I didn’t really want the confrontation but somebody need to be a voice that causes others to think outside of the emotional high. Finally at some point I realized that I haven’t been in a Christian church type atmosphere since I left Christianity. It occurred to me that it was good for me and it was good for me to face and understand how I feel after so long a time. I recognized that I was all the more happy to be an “agnostic atheist”, the tug at your heart plea to be “saved” didn’t cause me to want to drop all I know and close my eyes virtually and become “saved” again. Nope, it did not even slightly appeal to me. Looking through the material they handed me made me want to do an “inspirational” talk myself.

Then the sermon was over and Bob announced that there were tee shirts and books and materials for sale in the foyer and that he was giving away free prizes. I was busy getting Kyle ready to go when I heard my name called loud and clear. I suddenly remembered I had entered the drawing. Well crap! Lol Half way through the event Kyle and I had visited the bathroom and relocated to the upper sitting area. I waved to the speaker but he didn’t see me. There was a lot of noise up front but I heard Kara loud and clear announced that she was my daughter. He threw the cool looking green water bottle in her direction. She told me later she missed it and was a little embarrassed she had yelled so loud and missed the throw but over all found it really funny.

Leaving the assembly hall was interesting as well. It seemed a lot of people who I didn’t know knew who I was. It had something to do with my winning that bottle. Kara explained it was because they knew her. And then the lady who is Kyles friends mom who I talked about earlier was there as well taking about the win with great enthusiasm. Then she went on to tell me about how awesome the whole event was and how wonderful that it was a mission and so on. I just smiled and tried to not agree but still be pleasant and keep my mouth shut. It didn’t last. She started doing her insistent thing where she starts insisting I agree with her.

By this time we were in the crowded line for pizza in the foyer. I am not the type to agree with something I don’t agree with just because someone is insisting I do. I’ve had over thirty five years of “witnessing” experience and that experience doesn’t just go away even if one is no longer a “believer.” I finally blurted out that I didn’t believe in God, that I was an atheist. Her eyes got real big. Then she started in on her forceful witnessing and I started in on my new counter witnessing. I stressed the point of how wrong it is to teach ones children that they aren’t good enough, they are imperfect, they are born sinners (bad), they don’t deserve salvation…and so on with out Jesus. I told her no one should ever tell their children such things. We are not born bad, we are good enough, we are able and we can be loved…without Jesus. She brought up that there was only one God. I challenged it using the Bible. I said, “no, that’s not possible because the Bible says we were created in his image, male and female created he them. She agreed on the scripture but then I continued to explain that it said male and female in his image so there has to be at least two Gods, a male and a female. She explained it was referring to Adam and Eve. I told her Adam and Eve weren’t gods so it couldn’t be referring to them. She then explained it was referring to God’s spirit and soul or something like that. She then wanted to know what caused me to stop believing. She suggested maybe I saw a bad example. I assured her I had seen plenty of those and they didn’t phase my beliefs. I didn’t have time to go into what caused me to “wake up” and honestly it wouldn’t do her any good. I did tell her that I wished she would let people be in their beliefs and that I didn’t want to take her happiness away if she was truly happy being a Christian. She didn’t get any of that. At one point I mentioned I hoped our disagreement didn’t stop her from being friends though really I wasn’t worried about it. She said it didn’t. However a little later I complemented her for still being able to be my friend though we couldn’t agree about religion. She agreed with me and then with a very serious face told me that in reality since I didn’t believe in Jesus we couldn’t really be friends. I wasn’t hurt, sorry to say, I was mostly amused. Ok, I’m not really sorry.

Later I thought more on what she asked me. My old church leader, self professed Prophet aka Elder Turner did something very hypocritical which sparked my awakening. But still, without all the other elements involved it wouldn’t have. I may have been hurt and disappointed but it wouldn’t have affected my faith. I had been in the Christian faith all my life and a strong dedicated believer since childhood. I had seen many acts of hypocrisy from all kinds of Christians but non of them shook my faith. I knew it was the person who was at fault and not Jesus. So what made it different this time? Like I said, there were a lot of other simultaneous elements involved that caused my own revolution of sorts. It wasn’t just my church or my religion in question, it was my life in general, everything I though I knew I found I had to be re-question, re-studied, re-learned. I don’t know how it is at the age of thirty eight that one is able to burst all their cognitive dissonance bubbles but apparently it is possible cause that’s exactly what I did. I won’t say it was easy or painless, quite the opposite actually. But well worth it in my book. Upon rebuilding myself I was able to study various sources avoiding other peoples bias and figuring out what actually made sense and separating lies from truth. Sadly, I understand that no matter how content and happy with where my path has taken me there will always be different religious people who can not believe I am actually happy, that I don’t have a hole in my heart, that I can possible feel love with out their god and that I have absolutely no fear of going to hell.

She also tried the, “you must have never really been saved” approach. That one doesn’t work on me. I was one of the most sincere Christians I have ever met.

As I had gotten my pizza and the conversation with that lady wasn’t really going anywhere I let her know I had to get my kids home and said goodbye. I don’t know how she does it but even as I was walking away she still managed to have her face in my face. It’s like when people use a fish lens and the face is too big and too close. She asked me if I had a Bible. I told her I did. She told me to read it or something like that. I told her I had pretty much memorized the who thing as it was. She actually didn’t have a reply for a change so she removed her face from my face and we parted ways. I wasn’t entirely truthful about memorizing the Bible. There’s something about Leviticus and Numbers that never made me feel the desire to memorize them. Lol

politos(Yes, it was Polito’s Pizza!)

Once we got out the door Kara started apologizing with a smile on her face and letting me know she had no idea it was gonna be a Christian thing. I told it was ok. I had thought of texting her dad to send in special forces with a helicopter but we get charged for texts. I told her it was probably a good experience for us in some way. And the pizza was really good too. She said her friends were listening to me and that lady and she said they seemed rather impressed. I was glad I didn’t embarrass her. I think a lot more people other then her friends were ease dropping. That’s cool with me. I do get a little shaky though during such intense confrontations. Confrontations have never been my strong point and at this time of my life I rarely socialize with anyone outside of FaceBook. Still it was quite eventful and I have no regrets.


I almost forgot to add that AJ the illusionist informed the audience after his act that they did not infringe on the separation of church and state when they had performed during the school hours. That was good to hear. I thought the whole thing was very cleaver. Perform during school for assembly in order to get the kids excited so they would go home and talk their parents into bringing them and their siblings that night and offer free pizza and soda and then nail ’em! Walla!

awkward Moments of the bible post

( I copied this from https://www.facebook.com/AwkwardBible/photos/a.313077238706379.94952.313075568706546/785543528126412/?type=1&theater. You can read the post with more information at that link. You can find more provocative pictures at https://www.facebook.com/AwkwardBible and purchase the book it’s self at http://www.awkwardmomentsbible.com/order/. While you may not like the pictures they are taken from real scriptures and worth giving some thought to. Referring to the upset lady quoted at the top of this picture, many of the pictures in that book are not separated and changed, they are exactly what they are and they are in the Bible. This particular one doesn’t have a scripture backing it up but most of them do so you can go look for yourself. This one would take a lot of scriptures since the idea is written all over the Bible.)


I didn’t recall what had finally got me to face that lady off until I was done writing this and on my way out the door to get some things done. So now that i remember, here’s how it went down. I was biting my tongue and smiling with out nodding best I could but finally she asked me about my husband. I let her know I was divorced. Her serious look got even more serious. She asked if there was some way we could get back together. I told her there wasn’t, we were both happy the way were are. She pressed a bit more and I let her know we only knew each other a month before we foolishly got married and that we really weren’t compatible. I also let her know my ex is engaged to be married soon and I am very happy for him. Her look of concern deepened even more. Then she let me know that it was God who had brought us together and it was his will we get back together. So that’s when I went ahead and told her I didn’t believe in God and that I was an atheist and the start of the rest of the story I told above.

Another addition 3/18/14

I found this article in the school paper. I find it interesting they didn’t mention the assembly’s true intention of making converts.

Bob Lenz in school paper Vol29 Num5 March 2014

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Written by Wade of Deeply Rooted on FaceBook March 2013

This is the main story that I’ve heard about spring equinox and the Goddess Ostara/Eostar/Oester and is the one I tell at each prison I go into as well as every ritual on the outside that I go to this time of year.
In days long by the great Goddess Ostara walked the dark woods of what we now call Germany. She is the very embodiment of spring and it is believed that she is the one that brings the spring after the long and dark winters. For endless thousands of years she waited for her time and then, when the moment was right, began the process that we call spring. Then, as sometimes happens, there was an especially dark and cold and brutal winter and the Goddess fell into depression. She saw the cold and dark and, as sometimes happens, thought it was just too much and sat down in a deepening sadness. When the time came for winter to loosen its grasp and the snows to fade, nothing happened. None paid that close attention, sometimes spring was a little then other times, just the way the Goddess worked. And the winter continued, and continued. The animal and plant spirits were the first to call the alarm, as they were dying with their physical aspects were dying under the snow and ice. They found the Goddess buried as well, with the snow and ice covering her up to her chin where she had sat down in her sadness over the cold and dark winter. The plant and animal spirits tried to wake the Goddess up and snap her out of her depression, they pleaded and joked and tried to reason. After that didn’t work a few, in their desperation, even tried to threaten her, all to no avail. The winter continued. Trees began to snap and fall, their sap frozen in their trunks. Bears and other hibernating creatures that should have been out eating spring greens instead began to die. Ice and snow and cold and dark seemed to be all there was or would ever be. Soon everyone saw what a horrible thing was happening and all the Gods and Goddesses and sprits of plant and animal gathered to find a solution. The great Gods and Goddesses each approached Ostara and tried to convince her using all the skills and abilities they had to muster. Every kind of bribe and argument and threat and plea was made, to no effect, she merely stared off into space, engulfed in her own sadness. At long last they all gathered around her and a call was made for any other suggestions to solve this most horrible of situations and silence was all that was heard. When everyone had their chance to offer a solution and none was forthcoming the lowly March Hare hopped forward and asked simply, “May I try?”. The hare was scraggly and thin and his hair was matted, his people were dying in their burrows and he was fading with them. The great Gods and Goddesses and all the spirits of the powerful and strong animal spirits laughed with one voice at the silly little rabbit thinking he could succeed where they all had failed. After the waves of laughter subsided a voice rang out “Sure, why not, have at it little bunny” and the mocking laughter began again. The hare sat patiently until everyone got it out of their systems and when they did he hopped over to the small mountain of snow and ice that was the Goddess Ostara and waited. After a few moments the Goddess looked over at him, for a rabbit staring at you is hard to ignore. In that instant the March Hare gave a mighty grunt and he laid a huge multi-colored egg. It was the most ridiculous and unpredictable thing she had even seen and the Great Goddess Ostara laughed. With her moment of joy spring began and the ice and snow started to retreat. As she stood up the cold and dark retreated, spring had returned. And this is why we should never forget that the smallest and most disregarded of us might have the key to bringing happiness and light into the world. This is also why we take at least one day in the late winter to dye a few eggs as many colors as we can and hide them in the woods just in case Ostara is walking in the area, so she will always remember that one moment of perfect joy and forever bring the springtime.


ostara(Found this lovely picture on Google image search.)

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You Are A Rainbow

By Lorenakoran


On the outside

people can’t see it

when they pass you

on the street moonlit

they think the glow

is from the lamp post

Some days you look fresh

clean and beautiful

some days you look tired

worn out and stressed

some days people notice you

and some days they don’t

But, when the elements are just so

the planets are aligned

there’s just enough moisture in the air

something magical starts to stir

something wonderfully strange

not everyone can see

At those particular moments

when things seem the hardest

your true colors start to shine

they are made of red, orange, yellow,

green, blue, indigo, and violet

they stir the soul and make one feel hope

You may not even notice

you may be oblivious

but the people who need it

and the people who love you

have no problem seeing

the rainbow in your soul

Passion, balance, joy, generosity,

peace, calm & wisdom

are colors some folks don’t recognize

they may not be loud and charismatic

they may not squeak and be pushy

still, they are alive and they are powerful

Never underestimate

the power of your rainbow!


clover leaf rainbow valley

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