Mother’s Day Thoughts

I am exhausted after a whirlwind emotional trip to drop my youngest off at college. The nest is officially empty and I run a gamut of emotional over that realization. Mother’s day is next week my first with all the kids “gone”.

Last month I met a brilliant woman, A librarian by profession and talented in a plethora of ways yet she has not had the experience of being a mother … nor did she have a particularly nurturing mother herself. She shared with me the “other” side of Mother’s Day in a talk she did for her church. The talk opened doors that people might prefer left shut. But in a very visceral way I came to understand the pain many women experience.  Take a read it is well worth your time.

(reprinted here with her permission)

In Anticipation of Mother’s Day

 

A daughter’s journey towards a peace with Mother’s Day.

 

byJill Ellern

 

Presented to Boone Unitarian Universalist Fellowship on May 6, 2012 and Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Franklin, NC on May 8, 2011

 

First, I want to do a reading from the children’s book, Are you my mother? By P.D Eastman

Also available from on YouTube at: http://www.splicd.com/x4Koi-RJATE/0/159

 

A mother bird sat on her egg.

The egg jumped.

“Oh oh!” said the mother bird.  “My baby will be here! Hewill want to eat”

“I must get something for my baby bird to eat!” she said “I will be back”

So away she went.

The egg jumped.  It jumped and jumped and jumped, and jumped!Out came the baby bird.

“Where is my mother?”he said.

He looked for her.

He looked up.  He did not see her.

He looked down he did not see her.

“I will go and look for her,” he said.

So away he went.

Down, out of the tree he went.

Down, down, down! It was a long way down.

The baby bird could not fly.

He could not fly, bu the could walk.  “Now I will go and find my mother,” He said.

He didn’t know what his mother looked like.  He went right by her.  He did not see her.

He came to  a kitten.  “Are you my mother?” He said to the kitten.

The kitten just looked and looked.  It did not say a thing.

The kitten was not his mother, so he went on.

Then he came to a hen.  “Are you my mother?” he said to the hen.  “No,” said the hen.

The kitten was not his mother.  The hen was not his mother.  So the baby bird went on.

I have to find my mother!” he said.  “But where? Where is she? Where could she be?”

Then he came to  a dog.  “Are you my mother?” he said to th edog.

“I am not your mother.  I am a dog,” said the dog.

The kitten was not his mother.  The hen was not his mother.  The dog was not his mother.  So the baby bird when on.  Now he came to a cow.

“Are you my mother?” he said to the cow.

“How could I be your mother” said the cow.  “I am a cow.”

The kitten and the hen were not his mother.  The dog and the cow were not his mother.  Did he have amother?

I did have a mother,”said the baby bird.  “I know I did.  …

 

Let us stop the story here.

 

What do you think might happen to this baby bird?  Take a moment and let yourself imagine his future and his journey to find his mother.   And what about the mother bird in this story?  What about her journey in the story?  Take a moment to imagine her future? Are you a happy ending kind of person or a tragedy ending kind of person?

 

I think it’s a good possibility that your personal experiences as a child or as a mother will have colored what you might imagined what happened to this baby bird and his mother and about how their stories could end.

 

Today, I want to share the journey of discovery I took to find, to talk and share some of those other visions and stores of children, mothers and motherhood that we don’t often think about.   I think it would be a good topic for us all to ponder because I have found that there is sizable minority of us with negative experiences with motherhood. Mother’s Day for those like me, is a day of contradictions, of turmoil,and of anticipated sadness amidst the reverie and festivities of others.

 

My adventures actually began during my visit to a friend’s church three years ago.  My friends had invited me to their church after they had attending mine.  I had thought it was only fair that I go but I hadn’t realized that it was Mother’s Day until after I had agreed. Friends are wonderful.  I had seriously considered staying home that day anyways. However, after much internal debate, I decided that I really wanted hear the speaker regardless of his Mother’s Day topic and to go that afternoon to my friends’ church.

 

What I got was instead of one dose of Mother’s Day, was a double dose of Mother’s Day. But what inspired my writing was what happened at my friend’s church in Clayton,GA.  Amidst the praising and crying and room filled with love for mothers, (and it really was all that) a woman bravely stood up and said, “Please be mindful, that not everyone had a good mother.  For some, this is not a happy day because some of us truly had bad mothers.”

 

Wow, I thought, what courage to bring this up on such a day in such a venue.  My next thought was “hey, I was not the only one” … I was impressed because here was the first person I’d ever heard in a public setting to voice what I had been feeling for a long time.

 

And I began to wonder just how many others are feeling the same way and who they are and what their stories are. It immediately occurred to me that this would be a good topic to bring back to my own fellowship for thought and discussion. So that’s what I did, I gave this talk. Afterwards, it was recommended that I share it with others, and that’s why I did it again for the church group in Boone North Carolina.  Since then I have read it to many individuals and I was asked to provide it as a blog or publication.

 

In the process of writing this original talk, I thought and wrote about this topic; about the reasons why someone would not want to celebrate Mother’s Day and about my own experiences with my mother. Ihave asking many others what they think about the topic and I’ve gotten lots of answers and advice.

 

You probably don’t know just how many folks like me secretly dislike, dread, and even hate this day.  No one really wants to talk about it much.  We are embarrassed, sad, mad,envious and hurt.  Most of us will most likely stay home quietly next Sunday or if we have to attend any event on the subject, we will have tears in our hearts as we listen to the stories oft hanks, ideal mothers and mother love.

 

We are those persons we mention each week after the sharing part of my UU service when we mention thoughts “for the joys and concerns that although unshared, are in our minds and hearts”. No one really wants to talk aloud about what we are feeling on this day and we don’t really want to ruin the day for others.  And thatis why I presented it in the churches the week before Mother’s Day, and why I present it to you in this publication this same week.

 

Today I would like to share some of what is in mymind and heart and what I have discovered over that year of discovery as I wrote this talk. —

 

I have found that there are several groups of folks who will be suffering some pain on Mother’s Day.  These include:

 

•those that had no mothers,

•those that have lost child,

•those that given up or had a child taken from them

•those that can’t have children and finally

•those with bad mothers

 

I have known women from all these categories and I’m sure you have as well although you might not know it.  There is no equivalent day for us.   But on this week before Mother’s Day, I think it’s a good time to talk and reflect on them.  Let me first talk about the categories I’m not in and then reflect upon my own situation.

About motherhood after the loss of a child or being denied motherhood

 

It doesn’t matter if this loss is through death or having them taken away, my observation is that the level of pain is the same.  I have known women that have lost children to legal action that removed them from home.  I have held mothers that have miscarried and those that have tried and failed to conceive. I have seen the tears of mothers who have lost their children through disease or accident.

 

I have listened to them when they have cried for their loss; heard her prayed at every sanctuary they passed for their safe return; wondering what the future might have held if that tragedy or event  had not happened.  It is heartbreaking.  Mother’s Day for these mothers or would-be mothers is just a reminder of what they have lost or future they could never experience.

 

About having no birth mother

 

Do you know anyone that’s been adopted and doesn’t know who their birth mother is? There are mother’s that for some reason (oftentimes good ones), have given up their children to adoption.  Over 125,000 children are adopted each year.It’s a pretty good bet you have known someone in this category.

 

I have known several folks who were adopted.  Most of them don’t know who their birth mother is.  But there is something primal in a connection to your birth mother. Even if you were raised in love, even if you had a good adopted mother,a great adopted family, there is an ache in your heart for that biologica lmother you don’t know, don’t have and wish you did.

 

Also in this category are those that lost their mothers too early in their life so that they never really knew their mother.  The child within them cries for this mother all of their life.  Mother’s Day for these children is just a reminder of the mother they have lost.

 

About having a bad mother

 

I don’t want to woman-bashing here. I’m not talking about a bad day, a bad experience, or a bad event with your mother. I’m talking about the realization and undeniable truth that you had a bad mother. I’m talking about having experienced mental, sexual, or physical abuse or neglect. My own mother fits into the category.

 

Being a librarian, when I began working on this talk, I started by trying to do research on the topic for other’s thoughts on  this subject of having a bad mother.  I tried to do a Google search on it and found that I had a very hard time finding an appropriate term to search on. I think that I couldn’t find good search term for this concept because our society doesn’t really think about this as a possibility.  We have a group denial and delusion about it.

And this is true despite the number of abuse cases,the untreated or under-treated mental illness, the incidence of addiction and failure to have effective drug treatments to fix it … the list goes on and on…I’m not saying that having a bad mother causes these things, but if you have these afflictions, just how can that not affect your mothering.  We want to believe, we need to believe, that everyone grew up with a good mother, an ideal mother and that every woman can be a good mother.  We want to believe that every woman has an automatic capacity to just know how to be a good mother. No education needed, no broken places fixed, no good role models needed, a woman that has given birth just knows how to be a good parent. Ou rsociety, our culture thinks that motherhood is an instinctive action.

 

I do not believe this is true.

 

Mother’s Day for me is about being silent amidst the joy and celebration of others. I’ve experienced this denial personally both in myself and to me by others. I have had people tell me that my experience can’tbe as bad as I think or remember. That every mother had something you should celebrate on this day.

 

And while that might be true to some extent, denial of the bad is not a good practice for the healthy.  Among other things, I have been told that it can’t be true, or that I must forgive her.  Well, too much of this, the social stigma, the silence of not sharing because it is so painful or socially unacceptable and you begin to doubt your own experience or thinking you were the real problem and that you were a bad daughter.  I have had my relatives tell me that they didn’t want me around for the holidays because I might be thinking bad thoughts about her.  They did not feel that same way about the betrayal, the hurt and the suffering that my mother allowed to happen to us.

 

But I know what it is like not to be loved as a daughter but instead to feel that you were a burden, an obligation, a rival for the affections of men, and just a student that she had the obligation to teach about the hardness of the world through direct experience. It is not a good place to be.  Like those other catalogues of people I’ve already mentioned, Mother’s Day is a painful reminder of what you don’t have but that other do.

 

But it does get better —-and healing does slowly happen.  But I’m not talking about forgiveness… I’m talking about the healing power of sharing our stories.

 

Mothers that have given up their children for adoption, mothers that have lost their children traumatically, those that have suffered from flawed mothers or no mothers. We all have painful stories to share. But I think that it is that sharing, the finding of trusted friends and activities that validate our feelings of lose and hurt. It’s about breaking the silence and finding the courage to stand up, open up and talk about what has happened to us despite the social stigma. That is all part of the working towards a peace with Mother’s Day.

 

I had the opportunity, to read the diary that m ymother kept during some of the crazy parts of my childhood.  It confirmed what I already knew, that it was really as bad as I remember it. And that she was very badly damaged from her own childhood experiences, filled with self-loathing and that she didn’t understand the depth of the pain she caused her children.

 

I have been asked many times why I have survived the experience so well; I have even asked myself this as I read my mother’s own words about what was going on around me during that time.  Beside genetics, I can only attribute it to blind luck, hard headedness and the love of reading.

 

What is it about the love of reading and the healing power of a story?

 

In fact, it was when I was a preteen or teen that I read a story that has kept with me over the years and helped me though. I don’t remember the title or what else it was about. What I do remember is that somewhere in the first chapter or so that the author was imagining a conversation that she wished had happened between her and her mother. In the scene, she saw herself about the same age I was at the time I read it. In this imaginary conversation, her mother sat her down and said to her, “I am flawed;I cannot be the ideal mother you wish or deserve. I will disappoint you, as I was disappointed by my mother. You will need to find other mothers, other women that can fulfill the gaps and needs in you that I cannot.”

 

I think that story was one of the reasons I have survived my childhood as well as I have. That story helped me to seek and see the mothers in the women around me as I grew up. And I found them everywhere. Perhaps in my own way, I was asking the same question as our baby bird in the reading..  “Are you my mother?”And these women, these mothers of my heart, have been there to teach, scold,encourage, inspire, cry to and love.

 

And so now that you have read this talk and after you have time to think about it, I hope that like the woman in the church in Clayton,I can inspire you to be mindful on this Mother’s Day.  To remember that for a whole story of Mother’s Day, you should seek out not just the good parts with your celebrations and the festivities.  That as you listen to the thank yous, the stories, the singing, and the general love of all things motherly, that you also listen and notice the folks that have not shared.  For somewhere in amidst the merriment may be a few quiet or absent people with other thoughts on their minds this day.  Ask them and be supportive of those stories of their mothers. And if you, like me, are usually silent or missing on this day, that youfind a way to share a little part of your story, because you never know when it might help the healing of yourself or others.

Thank you for reading this.

 

Dragon’s Unbound

I love dragons.

These two had a lot to overcome to be together. You may have met them briefly near the end of “Dar’kind Promises” Rhys and Haydn were there at Isobeau the healer’s home when Maura and Zelia needed help.

Their story will be out later this spring. A M/M Erotic Romance

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The Galloping Ghoul of Hockomock Swamp

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Riding the Natchez Trace and exploring the historic cites along the way makes me think of my first published romance. A M/M HISTORIC EROTIC ROMANCE. Yes, I was the girl who introduced myself as a paranormal romance writer. How ironic is it to have my first work published several years ago and it be not only a historic but a m/m erotic romance.  It is still a wonderful story and I enjoyed writing it very much.

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M/M Erotic Historic Romance
The Galloping Ghoul rides each full moon, exacting revenge by frightening those who tormented his past. By day, he is one of the town people, Nathaniel Hawkins, an affluent entrepreneur. He identifies with Ike Sandhill, a government surveyor, and wants to protect him from the same thugs who drove Nathaniel to revenge.

Ike goes to the extreme to prove to everyone how straight laced he is. He pursues Misty VonMix with the intention of marriage.

Nathaniel doesn’t know how to confess his desire without driving Ike away. He comes up with a plan of seduction. Before the night is over Ike discovers things about himself he always knew, yet denied.
Excerpt
“Massachusetts, 1790
Somewhere in the Bridgewater Triangle, old wives tell tales in hushed tones about strange lights in the sky and the Galloping Ghoul of Hockomock Swamp. They say the specter rides on the night of the full moon. They don’t know what drives him to haunt unsuspecting travelers. Those who’ve crossed his path flee in fear for their lives. If the victims know why he rides, they never say.”….

***
…Hell’s bells, what a goat fuck. Augustus stood patiently while Nathaniel hoisted Ike’s lanky frame up into the saddle and mounted behind to support his unconscious burden. The flight brought them to the borders of Nathaniel’s estate.
“Time to go home, Augustus.”
Nathaniel’s pulse pounded at the proximity of Ike in the saddle, his head resting on Nathaniel’s shoulder. How badly he wanted to brush the wayward lock of golden hair back from the man’s brow. No more hiding. Before the night was over, Nathaniel would be sure Ike Sandhill knew his full intentions. He couldn’t go on in this limbo half-life watching from afar. By dawn, they’d both be changed men. He prayed he could convince Ike to take what he had to offer, to take a chance, to take something, anything from him.

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Phoenix Reborn

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(Drawing on Saturday, Prizes see rafflecopter below)

Vol 3 of The Amethyst Desire Collection

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Phoenix Reborn F/F Paranormal Erotic Romance

This is a wonderful tale of shapeshifters and magical beings.

Tam makes her appearance at the end of “Beverly’s Secret” when she comes into “Salynne’s Crystals and Thyme” to purchase a gift. Sure enough she goes away with the amethyst necklace.

I am in the final write and edits before sending this off to Rebel Ink Press.  It should be out early this summer.

Stay tuned, more to come.

But here is an excerpt from Beverly’s Secret to tease you. Meet the formidable Tameron

“The door opened, the small silver bell tinkling a welcome. A very attractive woman dressed in cargo pants and a black polo shirt made her way into the shop looking around scanning the area for something. Her white hair was startling. It wasn’t grey and she wasn’t old. It didn’t have that platinum blonde, I bleached the shit out of my hair look.

Bev could tell a browser from a customer at a glance. “May I help you find something?” With any luck this woman would be the last customer of the day then Bev could lock up and go home. She was keenly interested in seeing Makala again tonight and hopefully making plans for the rest of the weekend ahead.

The woman looked up at Bev with piercing ice blue eyes and continued walking through the store. She paused in front of the jewelry case then spoke. “I’d like to look at this.”

Bev hurried over with the key to the display that held the crystal necklaces. “Any piece in particular, you’d like to see.”

The woman pointed directly at the one damn necklace Bev didn’t want to sell. “There the one in the center, the amethyst stone.”

You’ll see Phyro find Tam’s softer sexy side in “Phoenix Reborn”

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Riding the Natchez Trace

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I haven’t taken a vacation in a very long time.

This week I’m riding with a motorcycle buddy. We’re headed out for 6 days and 5 nights riding our motorcycles and camping out. The route will circle from Chattanooga, Nashville, the Natchez Trace, New Orleans, Dolphin Island, and Gulf Shores, Orange Beach and back through Alabama to Chattanooga. She is a professional Archeologist and a facinating woman. I love to listen to her take on the places we will visit. I’m thankful to call her my buddy. LOL

The trip starts riding down the Natchez Trace Trail.  Historically it was a rustic trail the Native Americans used for trade and travel. Lewis and Clark traveled the trail on their explorations. It is a 450 mile trail that is described by the federal park service as “lifeline through the old southwest”. It is designated as a national scenic trail. We’ll camp along the way and visit various historic cites. The trail is rustic and you have to travel away from the trail for gas and civilization. 

Meriwether Lewis died and is buried in a place called Grinder’s Stand along the Natchez Trace. Story has it:

“On September 3, 1809, Lewis set out for Washington, D.C., where he hoped to resolve issues regarding the denied payment of drafts he had drawn against the War Department while serving as the first American governor of the Louisiana Territory. Some accounts say he carried his journals with him for delivery to his publisher. Lewis intended to travel to Washington by ship from New Orleans, but changed his plans while en route down the Mississippi from St. Louis. He decided to make an overland journey via the Natchez Trace and then east to Washington. The Natchez Trace was the old pioneer road between Natchez, Mississippi, and Nashville, Tennessee. On October 10, 1809, Lewis stopped at an inn on the Natchez Trace called Grinder’s Stand, about 70 miles (110 km) southwest of Nashville. After leaving dinner, he went to his bedroom. In the predawn hours of October 11, the innkeeper heard gunshots. Servants found Lewis badly injured from multiple gunshot wounds, including one to the head. He died shortly after sunrise.” (Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meriwether_Lewis)

Was it murder or suicide?

We plan on touring New Orleans and the french quarter. Can you say

Beignets Baby!~

Then we’ll travel the coastline and hit the beaches along the way. We have a ferry ride planned.

I’m going to take about 10,000 pictures. I’m going to put my face in the wind, feel the sunshine on my back and enjoy being alive. I’m going to bask in the gratitude of living.

I’m going to appreciate the Earth and the blessings of her bounty. I’m going to be grateful for friendship and the love of comrades.

There is a lot of time to think in the solitude of riding a motorcycle.

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Perhaps we all need that. Stop and think. Give some consideration to protecting and preserving mother Earth. There are little changes that we can each make that will help. Walk a little longer. Consolidate trips. Drink from a re-useable container. I’m sure you’ve heard it all.  So come on! Make those changes.

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Giving Back

Paying it forward and giving back. Two things I’ve always embraced.

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(Drawing Saturday, Prizes See raffle copter below)

This year’s Rebel Ink Press project is a cookbook.  Makala from Beverly’s Secret has her jambalaya recipe in the cookbook. My son asks me to make that for dinner at least once a week. LOL

Twenty seven Rebel Ink Press authors contributed to the book.  A portion of the proceeds are being donated to Heifer International to help people feed themselves.

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The book is available in hard copy and in Ebook formats. Consider a purchase for Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Birthdays or oh heck because you want some jam up ideas for cooking food.

Paperback http://www.amazon.com/The-Way-Heart-Rebel-Press/dp/1937265870/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366688456&sr=8-1&keywords=the+way+to+the+heart

Kindle http://www.amazon.com/Way-Heart-ebook/dp/B00CDAJ218/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1366688497&sr=1-1&keywords=the+way+to+the+heart+for

 

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Dar’kind Promises

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Dar’kind Promises

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(BLURB) Novellette length (16,920 words)

Darkind Fairy Maura comes to the human dimension on a search and rescue mission for one of her race. The success of the mission rests on her wits and the skilled aid of her feline tracker, Zelia. Unfortunately, Zelia is experiencing unpredictable shifts between feline and human forms.

Distracted by the sultry woman in her bed, Maura struggles to stay focused on their quest. If they’re unable to figure out how to gain control of Zelia’s shifting, all hope for success of their mission as well as any possibility of their future together will be lost.

Worse yet, an ancient evil targets Zelia and Maura in a bid for power and control of their magic.

Zelia is willing to risk becoming trapped in feline form and losing the love she’s found if it means she can save Maura from the evil hunting them. Meanwhile, Maura searches for the strength to abandon the quest for her lost ‘sister’ if doing so will save Zelia’s life and stabilize her shifting abilities.

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The Amethyst Desire Collection

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Thinking about jewelry and shiny things that I spoke of yesterday. Raynia found a nice sparkly thing that changed her life. Whoo Weee

Vol 1

Raynia’s Magic

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Menage’ M/M/F & M/F/M Erotic Contemporary Romance.

Raynia Castellano is drawn to purchase an amethyst pendant as an impulse buy but not before the clerk assures Raynia the magic is in the woman, not the necklace that seems to call to her. And given Raynia has just left an adulterous ex-husband and has recently settled into a law practice with her oh so sexy and oh so apparently gay law partners, surely a little magic is required.

Vol 2

Beverly’s Secret

F/F Erotic Contemporary Romance

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Beverly Carter, clerk at Salynne’s Crystal’s and Thyme could have sworn she placed the amethyst necklace in the display cabinet. How did the gem end up in her pocket? She’d have to take it back to work in the morning and explain her mistake to the shop owner.

Trying the necklace on for just a moment couldn’t hurt anything. When the clasp won’t release she has to call on her next-door neighbor, Makala Reynaud for help. A woman that Beverly is very attracted to but hasn’t had the courage to approach. She hasn’t figured out how to confess her interest without outing herself prematurely. Bev’s pretty sure the woman is a lesbian too. What if she was wrong? So Beverly’s been stuck, just as stuck as the damn necklace.

Then, Makala’s red lips were just too tempting, too perfect, too close. Stealing a kiss could open a door to disaster instead of the closet on her sexual preference. Yet, the way Makala accepted the kiss and returned it with unabashed enthusiasm blew that door off its hinges.

They spent the night talking and exploring sex every way and everywhere possible in Makala’s small apartment. Beverly had to wonder if the rumors about the necklace were true. Was this some kind of spell that might only last the night?  Could this be the beginning of something magical?

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Earth Day Blog Hop

Earth Day Blog hop continues at Rebel Ink Press. Visit and see what other authors are thinking about during this celebration of Earth Day.

I like shiny things and I can not lie. 

I revel in costume jewelry probably more than diamonds and rubys. I’m not exactly sure why. If I lose a $4. necklace of glass beads I am sad and miss the enjoyment I might have wearing it. But if I’d lost a $4000. diamond necklace…well somehow the stakes are different.

What on Earth does this have to do with Earth Day? LOL

Well, the Earth has many treasures that are beautiful to enjoy and have gratitude for. From the massive redwoods on the California coast, to the gigantic quarts deposits deep in the mountains of Tennessee and on to the lovely shells and sand dollars along the beaches of Florida. My oldest is in Japan. She has found a sand dollar there and somehow I feel closer to her than the other side of the world. She told me Japan is known for its coastal sea glass. Who would have thought? Somehow we treat Earth like that glass necklace instead of the diamond one.

We have only one Earth. Our home is not disposable and if we aren’t careful our decisions will take something irreplaceably precious and destroy it.

Love this song by Ann Reed, “Styrofoam” about a roach named Philip and Sue. Ann Reed is a genius folk singer songwriter. Check her out.

Lyrics   Styrofoam    words & music: Ann Reed

There was a roach named Billy & a roach named Sue
& they found the perfect home just made for two
It was styrofoam, oh styrofoam
& they moved right in – 1,2,3
& started their cockroach family

Now the kids came along there were boys & girls
& the little roaches asked if the whole world
Was always styrofoam, oh styrofoam
Momma started the tales from Grampa’s days
Said, “You’re right it wasn’t always this way.

See, they used to have things called buildings
& the humans had somethin’ called a house
& it’ll shock you all to hear this
They used to gas us to move us out.”

Now the little roaches shivered but momma just smirked
“The humans tried but it didn’t work
But they made styrofoam, oh my kind of home
Now the humans had things that they called brains
& how they worked I could never explain

See, they needed clean air for breathin’
& clean water to keep ’em alive
& if you want the truth of what happened
They all committed suicide

Now you can rest easy ’cause they’re no longer around
To try out their poisons & hunt us down
We’re safe in styrofoam, oh styrofoam
& tomorrow we’ll see if we can find
Some good ol’ plastic for a brand new slide.”

© 1991 Turtlecub Publishing

Song Length
3:10
Genre
Folk – Alternative 

Lyric Credits Ann Reed
Music Credits Ann Reed
Publisher Credits Turtlecub

 

Rebel Ink Press Earth Day Blog Hop

Hi everyone welcome to the Earth Day Blog Hop.

**raises hand** Hello my name is Eden and I am a book lover.  Yes, I love the feel of a cherished book in my hands, I love the crisp feel of pages as they turn. I adore the smell of libraries, book stores. The visual display of shelf after shelf of books makes me giddy.  My dream room is swoon worthy. The castle library from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast would en’trance me and hold me willing captive. (((hangs head – sigh)))

I was part of the generation who said these “Gol darn new fangled electronic books that you could read on some kinda computer or phone or whachamagiggie” grumble grumble “They are a passing phase like eight track tapes…. It won’t last.”

Weight that out against a business conference I went too BEFORE e-books.  I would stuff my carry on with about 7 books to make it through the five day conference. I then often bought a couple more books while I was out there.

The time had to come. My house isn’t big enough for all the books I love. It is nigh on impossible to carry all the books I desire to read while I travel. I love the privacy of no one being able to see the cover of the juicy little naughty tid bit I’ve chosen for this afternoon’s reading adventure. I converted to the worship of eb00ks.

That doesn’t remove the sensual pleasure I have touching a book. But I’m a practical kinda girl.

And on the serious side, pulp, paper and book production can be a horrible polluter. Just drive through certain sections of GA and the Carolina’s near a Pulp mill.  Ewwwww what a rank aroma.  Imagine wet sour dog food. Tons of it.  That is a close approximation of the smell of a wood pulp mill.

So celebrate Earth Day with me and the crew of Rebel Ink Press.  Go on over there and visit some of the other RIP authors.

And register here through this raffle copter thing-a-maggie and you could win some treasures and really cool stuff. Kindle and swag basket

Click HERE  inorder to enter the rafflecopter

The blog hop runs the 22 through the 26th. So I’ll share some tidbits with you about the various books I have available via the Ebook format. Save a tree, Read an E-Book.

I am finding that the words are equally delicious and enjoyable even without the pages in my hands. LOL

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