Jude Stringfellow's Blog, page 57

Green Power: The Breakfast for Champions

 I get on "kicks" and this one is a good one. It's a type of thing that you do for a while, see if there are any good results and if so you keep it up, but if not you break away. It's a good thing so far. I'm substituting a meal or two every day with a juice. When I say "juice" I literally mean I put fruits and veggies (rarely any water) into the juicer and I let it spin.  Today, I powered up the juicer with a very tart combination of a Granny Smith green apple, a very green lime, and a bunch of fresh spinach. I also add the extras, as I will every day.  I do the protein powders and the other dry extras with the Nutribullet, so what I'll do this afternoon is have a liquid lunch, but it won't be a juice. It will be a milk protein powder drink with those extras.

    Today's bathroom trip (Not too graphic, I promise) was a good "go" and though I did look, and looked really intensely, I didn't see any pinworms, worms, or anything resembling a worm or parasite. I know that parasites can be tiny and some I won't be able to see with my naked eye (why are they naked, is it just because they don't wear tiny kilts?) but I didn't see anything whatsoever which leads me to believe that perhaps I was cleaner than I thought I was. This is both good and bad news because I wanted to have something to blame. (Giggle)  Looks like I'm pretty healthy, just round and fluffy, so that has to stop.

    The Green Power drink, as it is called in one of the recipes I found online, is a very strong drink indeed.  If you think about it, a small lime is rather dense, and it's full of juice, so imagine juicing it, and taking in about 60% of the peel as well when you run it to the supersonically spinning blades. Zoom! It's gone! The silt left over is a sort of damp powder at that point. You can pick it up, and you can run your fingers through it. It's really rather soft and aromatic. In fact, my daughter was in the other room and she commented about being able to smell the lime. It's strong.  The Granny Smith apple is a green powerhouse all on its own as well. Full of juice, and not as frothy as other apples. I like that. The spinach is just that...good, hearty, dense, kickass fiber. It doesn't juice as well, because there isn't much water in spinach, but it did produce some goodness and I did run about 1/8 cup of water through to get as much as I could.

    Adding the extras, stirring, and then drinking it down was not hard to do. It was in fact both energizing and welcomed. I'm trying to go as long as I can without eating in the morning; sort of an intermittent fasting ritual. I'm doing pretty good really, and I like that fact. It's OK to mulipurposely multitask when you're both dieting and just living well. I don't like using words like "diet" as it may have a negative connotation. I live well. I work well. I try to play well, and I know I sleep well.

    Last night I dreamed I was mending a wire fence in my pasture. I looked around and saw a couple of horses, but the one that was "mine" in the dream was a paint horse. He was a gelding, tall, strong, sturdy, maybe 16 hands, and roughly 1300 pounds. He was obviously a taller Quarter Horse and he was just enjoying life as horses do. He wasn't aggressive, he wasn't passive, he was just there eating grass and walking about. The fence didn't need too many patches, and I was finished with my work in good time.  I looked it up and I was happy to find out that the dream indicates that I am well on my way to being satisfied and doing what I want to do. The horse represents my spirit, my inner self and I am content. I really am. I have been going through something, but I'm OK with knowing that I'm not doing this on my own. I have God and that's enough. It's always enough.

    The Green Power juice is something that will lift your emotions as well as your sense of self. You can't smell it, see it, taste it, or even imagine it without seeing that it was fully created by someone other than yourself. You have to give the credit where the credit is due.  Thank you, Jesus!

Photo Credit: Me

It is All About the Poop! (No, Really, it is)

     Most doctors and nutritionists agree that a clean colon is the way to go. There are multiple ways to make this happen. I have never been a fan of anyone getting a colonoscopy if they didn't need to get one. In my seemingly sensible opinion, anyone who has a brain and knows how to read should be able to research online the symptoms of a bad bowel system, and perhaps various remedies to fix said system. It makes good sense to me to get the gut clean and keep it clean, then the nasties won't find a home there, and they won't creep and crawl around to the point of busting open linings, causing bloating, infections, and more. If you do your research, you may not be healed, no one is saying that but you could very well postpone or eliminate reasons for going to the doctor for a colonoscopy; again, if it is necessary then by all means do it. Just know you have options.

    A clean colon is a good place to start today. How does a colon get messy? We eat. We eat and we eat, and we don't drink enough water to flush out all of the crud that over time, builds up and causes the walls of our intestines to become caked or lined with gunk. Think about your kitchen or bathroom sink. You have to pour chemicals down it from time to time to scrape all the build-up from causing the sink pipe itself from clogging. When you do use a thingamabob to pull out all the stuff that you've been pouring down the drain, you'll find things you never knew were there! How did so much of your hair get into the kitchen sink? That makes no sense! The same is true with your colon. Yes, we eat our own hair from time to time when we breathe! We eat (and this is nasty) other people's hair if it's flying around aimlessly in the air! We probably swallow a few things we could do without. Enter the colon cleanse.

    This time, because there have been so many other times, I have decided to use a product you/I can buy over the counter. It's a Swanson brand, but you can get it with other names attached to it. I just use Swanson's because I trust them. The brand on the bottle is NOW and sent to me by Swanson's. I ordered my cleanse in the form of a liquid droplet-style bottle of "Green Black Walnut and Wormwood Complex with Clove". You can Google that, I'll leave a link. https://www.swansonvitamins.com/p/now-foods-fresh-green-black-walnut-wormwood-complex-2-fl-oz-liquid

    The reviews given were way over 5000 users and with a collectively favorable result over that of 4.5 stars out of 5 stars, I decided to give it a go. It was cheap enough, just under $12, and Amazon delivers it to my doorstep; or in this case to the apartment complex office since it wouldn't fit in my mailbox. They put it in a rather large box for what it is. On the side of the box there is a warning about it being rather strong but the word "corrosive" wasn't attached to the warning, so we're good. The taste will make you appreciate straight whiskey, not gonna lie. You're supposed to take 1/2 of a droplet up to two full droplets two times a day, but you should start out slow and build that up to a tolerable level. ANDDDDDD, you're supposed to add the drops to a drinkable liquid such as water or juice - - I didn't do that, hence the appreciation I have for the straight whiskey. It burns and because of the clove, it also numbs.

    Suffice it to say, that later this evening, and of course, throughout the rest of the experiment, I will be more sensible and do what I'm supposed to do. I have an issue with being a bit hasty at times. I read instructions of course, but usually, after I've already taken a dose....it's a thang. I need to not do that.  So, the dose has been taken and I am in waiting mode. According to the reviews, it could take up to three full days to take effect, but some of the reviews are hopeful, and they say they saw immediate effects, or at least within the first day.  What am I looking for? Pinworms! I am looking for tiny and not-so-tiny bugs in my poop! I was flat amazed as a young woman, when I was having my first baby, to learn all about the worms and parasites we humans keep inside our guts. It's flat scary!  The nurse gave me an enema that cleaned me from top to tail within minutes and let me tell you, I was no longer innocent at that point. I was fully aware of how disgusting I could be.

    That moment of awareness was in 1986, and I have been very careful since that time to do as many body cleanses as possible. First, I was told by my doctors that two or three times a year it would be a good idea to do an enema-type cleanse. That works for a while and then I learned about things you can take or drink and have the same type of effect. I have to be honest, I have never really seen (again) the same thing(s) I saw the day I gave birth to my baby boy; I say that with a smiling face. I really never want to see what I saw again. Who the heck knew this was real? (doctors and nurses knew) I have researched it to the hilt and know that worms working in our intestines can cause us to both gain and keep weight. They can cause us to lose weight. They can cause us to think differently, be depressed, have anxiety, and worse, they can crawl up into places and fester, leaving holes in our bodies! Yes, that's disastrously disgusting and frightening...why do you think I'm telling you? 

    If people would merely Google (or Bing) their way into finding out more about the worms and parasites they potentially keep riding around in their bodies not paying a bit of rent, but taking up space that could be used for good, they would fight the good fight, and do what they can and should do. They too would take supplements, give up sugary foods and drinks, and they'd drink or take pro and prebiotics to stabilize their gut. Hormones are a big issue with parasites too, you can research that. Women in their older years can find themselves feeling sluggish, fat, bloated, upset, not feeling well, just sort of blah, and then oftentimes their doctors or nutritionist will mention doing a cleanse to rid them of any parasites. It's just a fact, and where it's not fun, the alternative is so much worse. Go look at the images of things that have been taken out of people before or after they have died. It will scare you straight to the health food store!

    Here's my hope. I may be completely off my rocker with this one, but I'm going to see what I can do. I hope I can take this complex and take it as directed for two weeks, lay off a week, pick it back up a week, and by that time it will be the end of January, and I want to be 10 pounds lighter than I was on January 1. I didn't actually weigh myself, but I'll know. I'll gauge it by the bloating or non-bloating. I'll gauge it by the way my clothes fit, by the way, I move, by the way, I feel. If it works I'll know, and yes, I'll be able to SEE with my own eyes soon, what comes out and if there's nothing there well then, so be it, but I can almost guarantee that there will be. It stands to reason that there will, so since I like to reason, we'll see if I'm right.

    I already take psyllium husk every day, and therefore I have a really good poop every morning. This will be an additive. This will be a better thing. This will be a way to know without a doubt that I'm on the better track. Who knows, maybe I'll end up weighing what I did when I was first pregnant in 1986...that would be 130 pounds. That would shock the hell out of me, but let me just say I would welcome it. If it meant I could get rid of these boobs and trade them in for a 12-year-old boy's chest I would do it as long as I got the ripped abdomen to go along with it. Someone else can lug these jugs around. I'm done. Is there a supplement for that? Tell me...I want it.

    Poop well, friends. Drink more water, get more exercise, eat well, sleep well, and by all means don't forget to pray. Prayer is the answer to it all. Who do you think made the black walnut, wormwood, and clove? That's right, I know I didn't! We give glory and praise to the One who did. No matter what the result, it is good. He is always good. Be blessed and go....go...go...and go.

Photo Credit: Swansonsvitamins.com

Oklahoma City's Asian Market. (An Experience)

 I used to live in what is now called the "Asian" section of Oklahoma City. In 1981, when I lived there, it was just called Midtown; it was a little seedy, not gonna lie, but it was where I could afford a place, and where I learned to keep my mouth shut for the most part (which has never really been that easy to do).  I saw things. I saw things I wasn't supposed to see on 30th street just east of Classen Blvd. I sat outside on my balcony one evening with my good friend Kathy and we watched a man literally pour gasoline all over the house directly in front of our apartment building, just before he torched it.  Kathy looked at me, I looked back at her and we went back through my bedroom window, which was the only way to access the balcony...no, I'm not kidding. I remember I called the police, but it was in the days before you could push a few keys and get them; I had to dial zero (0) and ask to be connected. Those were the days.

    Today, that area has been scraped, refurbished, renewed, and remodeled in most of the locations surrounding 1211 N.W. 30th, but the old homestead (I never called it that) remains as eery and a bit spooky as it did back in the day. Just a few blocks south of where I lived stands the very impressive Asian supermarket that has literally everything you can possibly imagine that you would ever want that could come from the far East. It's amazing, to say the least, and a feast for the senses for sure. When you walk in you immediately realize there's a fresh fish market close enough to be involved if you really wanted to be. Tanks full of fish, crab, lobster, oysters...you name it. You can have it. I don't want it. I just look.

    My reason(s) for going to the market is so very boring to some but so very exciting for me. TEA!! TEA!!! and then there's more tea. I can get so many brands, varieties, flavors, and specialties. They don't have the name brands that one may think of when one thinks of tea, but they have dozens of other brands with loose leaves, bags, sachets, and infused tea. There is a small coffee section, but I'm not there for coffee -- they have instant coffee there. No thank you. I know that it's a big thing in the East, but NO thank you. I was told recently that the best-roasted ground coffee available is from Vietnam, so I was hoping they would have that there, they have so many other things. I didn't see it, but then again, I didn't ask anyone either. I have several pounds of coffee at home, so at this moment in time, I don't need it. I don't need tea either. I have several pounds of that at home as well...several...pounds. I have tea.

    Jeannie went with me, and there's a section that she always finds herself walking through, which is just so dangerous for either of us to go through. It's not that it has a lot of things we could buy, no, it does, yes, but it also has knives! It has open flat kitchen knives of every shape, size, and design...just sitting out waiting for someone to come by and use them on someone. I probably shouldn't say that out loud, now someone may actually do that. It's not my fault if they do. This place needs to put those things away and out of the reach of would-be murderers and/or idiots who could hurt themselves...not to mention kids. I had to get the attention of a sweet but otherwise occupied parent today while their kid was reaching for one of the loose knives!  I went straight into Gramma-Mode and it wasn't all that pretty. I think I may have caused a scene. Jeannie heard me from the other side of the aisle. At least the kid put the knife down.

    Incense is another thing you can pick up at this place. They have tubes and tubes, boxes, and individual packages of the stuff. I picked up a bunch with about 30 sticks for .69 cents. Yes, I did. It's Nhang scented, and no, I don't know what to compare that to since I think most incense smells the same. It was, however, a bit thicker and dense maybe. I lit a stick and it took much longer to burn which caused my dogs, my daughter, and my best friend to question my purchase. I really didn't see anything wrong with it, but I've never been affected by the smell or smoke of incense. All that coughing and hacking...come on people, open a window or something you don't need to be so dramatic! I get it....geez. Wimps.

    I picked up a can of Joy Luck brand Jasmine loose tea for $6.99 ($11.08 on Amazon) and brought it home along with McVitie's Rich Tea tea biscuits, and a package of chocolate "digestives" which are like rich tea biscuits, but they're chocolate and they say "digestive" on the package. Seeing the words "digestive" and "biscuit" when referring to a hard cookie just makes me giggle a little. I do love to pretend, and now my high tea will be complete. Jeannie indulges me as long as she can, but I'll need to nix the incense in the future. We had our high tea at precisely 3:15 p.m. today with the rich tea biscuits, jam, and a bit of clotted cream that I did NOT pick up at the Asian market, I made it myself. It is just such a useless thing to do, but I did it anyway, and we laughed ourselves to pieces over the disastrous mess I created just so we could say we had clotted cream at high tea! There are just some things worthy of laughing over, and my British tea time is certainly one of those things.

    For no reason, and I do actually mean NO REASON, Jeannie bought a few little bowls that one may use for condiments, but I think people in Asian countries may use them for saki or something. They are really little. She liked them but has no idea what she'll do with them. I think I suggested condiments, but she insisted she probably wouldn't ever get around to doing that. Looks like I may end up with them next Christmas; which I won't mind. I can use them for jams, clotted cream, and/or some other spread for my digestives! I know how to do this high tea thing, folks. I am now so good at it...you too may have a giggle if you want to. I'm OK with that. As long as you sit with me and pretend, I don't care! I could sit the Teddy bears up on little chairs...that is not beyond my way of thinking.

    In the end, when we are walking toward the checkout at the marketplace, we came to the bottled soft drinks with the boba bubbles and you know you have to do that. They sell the makings so you can make your own boba tea, and we may do that soon too, but I want to study it enough so I'm not making glorious disasters or embarrassing more than just one continent at a time. We checked out, and we started to walk away but remembered the little cafe on the top of the market that does actually make good boba teas, and it has little danishes and/or pastries as well. I guess it wouldn't be a danish if it was Asian...could be, but probably not. I did catch the smell of rice tea being brewed, and no, I am not a fan.  About two years ago a singer in Scotland wrote or commented about how he loved it...I tried it...he can keep it. NO!

    We ate our cakes, we drank our incredibly sweet tea, and then we had to walk around for an hour outside in the breezy brisk air so we would have burned a few calories before high tea. I am not going to jeopardize high tea for a few boba bubbles, it will not happen.  We walked and gawked at the changes that have taken place in the city where we both live. It's literally only five miles from where we live, but we just don't venture there more than a couple of times a year. I still have canisters of tea I bought a couple of years ago that I've barely opened. I just go because I love the place. The energy is awesome...the produce is out of this world, and you can't, you just can't find better deals on ginger chews anywhere in the world than at this place. They have a dozen or so choices too. Yes!

    So that's it for the day, we had a good time. We drank, we ate, we came home and did the same, and then we decided to walk again, this time taking the dog. That's another Ginger in my life...she's a sweety.  She does high tea with me when no one else does. She isn't much for tea in her cream, so she takes the cream only, but then again, she'll do a few cookies or biscuits without needing to be asked twice. She's my girl, that one!!

Photo Credit: citylifestyle.com

Photo Credit: mcvities.com 

Writing: Good for the Soul

 I have NO idea why I am still sitting at my computer writing when all I did today was sit at my computer and write. I did take a break, and I left the computer, and went to the living room, where I picked up a notebook and began writing longhand! I do that. I so love to actually pen down the things I'm going to flesh out later. It was a wonderful day and it's not over yet. I'll be writing through the evening as well. I'll likely give myself a well-deserved actual break, and take a bath before I start reading what all I wrote. That can't be beaten - - unless I'm rewriting...then, yes, Heaven has another chamber I'll have to investigate.

    For a lot of writers, the idea of having to rework and rewrite the words and efforts made can seem like a chore, a torturous chore, but for me it's bliss. I love it. When I was in school I loved it. I couldn't understand anyone who finished their essay or prose and said, "OK, good, it's done." when all they had done was the first draft. Yep, you heard me the FIRST draft. After the first draft comes the second and you know what happens after that!!  The third and so much more important draft. This one, and only when you get to this one, can you say you have started the essay or the prose. It can't be finished until you go through the third draft with an incredibly thin (microscopic) comb and then you find a thesaurus to help you fill in, flesh out, and override most of the lackluster words you thought were going to stand out and make sense to someone. 

    Writers, if they are actually truly a legitimate excuse for being a writer, will never be satisfied with their work, but they'll succumb to allowing it to be published since there may be a deadline. You can't really be a writer if you like your own writing when it first exits your brain and takes a long dive off your keyboards and into the pool of reality. You must agonize. If you're not agonizing you're not working correctly. It's just that simple. Can you imagine if a songwriter pulled out words from the air and said..."Hey, that's it, I have a winner!!" without ever challenging his or her first thoughts? I can think of ONE song, and ONE song only that stands the test of perfection after being written in one moment.  The University of Oklahoma Fight Song.  Think about it. Genius! 

    The rest of us must see red when we see the blue ink we've spilled on the white papers. We can't say it will be OK unless and until we've swum in it, thought over it, mulled it around, had a few discussions about it, and then, after taking absolutely no one's advice whatsoever, we can make a few corrections before we consider the first draft ready for the next stage. At least that's how I do it unless we're talking blog writing. I just, well, you know what I do, I just type and whatever hits the screen hits the screen. I may use Grammarly because I have to, but I don't do any major readjustments to any of my blogs. Sorry if that surprised you.

    I've been fleshing out the characters and coming up with so many new characters with so many fascinating backstories that I think I'll hammer out a second book after I fiddle with this one for a bit.  I have the murder book to write too, so I think I'll need to squash a few thoughts of lust, robust lovemaking, and Highland hill scenery for the time being, and I'll focus on the mystery of who done it and where is the damn body?  I know where it is, I'm just not ready to tell you yet...he's been dead a while, and he can stay dead a little longer. The pigs can eat swill for now...oh no, did I give it away? Nope...just thought I'd throw that out at you to get a reaction. He's really going to be frozen, chopped up, and then used as compost most likely. I just have to find a way to transport this particular compost from Scotland to the middle of the sea - - without being caught. That's the thing. That's where the thinking comes into play.

    Right after the disposal of the man who shouldn't have pissed me off, to begin with, I'll come up with the 2nd book of Highland frollick since it seems to be a favorite among so many American and Canadian women. Who knew the Macleods, MacGregors, Kessocks, and Campbells had so many fans? I mean yeah, I knew, I've been looking up kilts for decades, but I thought I was just being naughty all by myself. Turns out there are literally millions of us and we're not going anywhere as long as we have a Kindle or an actual book in our hands and can avert our minds for at least a time being. I can contribute. I will contribute. Why not? What I like best about the writing is that it's always going to be MINE. Sure, I borrow ideas. We all borrow ideas, but we change them up, dress them up, oftentimes we dress them down, and then we create a new image for the passage entirely. Bam!

    Writing isn't just about putting words down, it's about knowing your audience, and thinking inwardly to give them what they would want to read. I use myself as a guide for that as I'm a middle-aged woman (OK I'm older) and I have a like, a love, and even a lust for all things Scottish; it's in my DNA quite literally. According to the stats, there are well over 30,000,000 Americans with Scottish blood in their veins. There are over 3,000,000 Canadians with Scottish heritage! Considering that Canada only has 38,000,000 people, that's almost one out of 10 and that's about the same as it is in America. Who knew?  When I write I write what I would want to read. If I'm successful I'll know when I get the feedback. 

    There's a disorder out there that discusses the need or the must to write. I think I have that. I don't write the same things over and over, it's not like that. I would have to say that if I couldn't write I couldn't breathe. I don't have to use a pen and paper. I can use my mind, but I'm not ever going to stop thinking and creating imagines; it just can't happen. Call it a curse, call it a blessing, call it a calling - - it is what it is. I am who I am, and that's what we're dealing with. Until next time, have a blessed evening, and try to keep up!!  I'd say I'll slow down to help you out a bit, but I don't want to lie to you. 

Photo Credit: Who.com.au

Story Lines Rock!! (Of Kilted Pleasure)

 Oh my, I've had such an amazing response from followers and readers so far about the new book "Of Kilted Pleasure" that I have decided to put together the skeleton of the book now, and it may supersede that of  "The Murder Book".  I'm actually writing both books simultaneously, but I've been asked by my youngest, and by my agent, to consider giving the "sex" book, as they're calling it, more attention so that it can be produced faster and so it can be published before The Murder Book.  I am so not calling my romance novel "The Sex Book". It's not going to happen. That can be a working title I suppose.

    When I asked my kids to read the blog I wrote introducing the first lines or pages of the new romance book I had to be honest with them and let them know that there would be moments of intimacy; and/or yeah, there is going to be straight up (no pun intended) erotica type writing; so since they are all adults....crickets.  My son flat refused, saying he didn't want to even think about thinking about it. His mother is not that sort of person, he remembers being told he was found under a rock, and he has not allowed himself to think otherwise.  My 2nd child, Laura, told me no as well. She isn't into sex really, and she isn't really into reading, so there would be no reason for her to read a romance book; it wasn't going to happen.  At least my 3rd child is a reader and yeah, she's rather sensual and sexy, so she not only read it, but she gave me tips! Thank you, Caity! Thank you for being normal!

    Caity actually told me that my book had some Susie Bright potential. That sounds awesome...who is that again? She then told me that Susie Bright is a famous erotica writer and she was one of the first feminist writers with any real power. OK, well that's cool. I used to write erotica as a young woman, and during nights out with the girls, (friends, not my kids) we would each write up a paragraph or two and then try to outdo the other women in the room. Of course, it was a drinking game, but since I really didn't drink, I had to be sure to win so that I wasn't forced to take a shot! I won more often than not, so I guess by not wanting to get drunk I was able to stay sober enough to tantalize and touch....oops, there I go again...tease the others in the room! 

    I'm now in my room thinking up the backstories of the two main characters in the book. The thing is, there are three - - and at one point, you'll have to read it to find out, all three are in the same bed at the same time; only since one is really only a fantasy there is still room for the lovers to move about without being too obnoxious. There will be laughter and there will be mewling. Plenty of mewling to go around I promise. I'll give you a tease: Aria, the man feminine character talks to herself in order to gain access to what the characters for her plays and stories will say. This behavior leads to some interesting conversations let alone bedtime stories (pun intended).  Ewan, our less-than-warring battle reject is several years her junior but finds her too irresistible not to follow her to the secluded glens to watch her. He tells himself he is protecting her from harm. When he fantasizes it is about Aria.

    I think I could get the skeleton written in a couple of days, and flesh it out fairly quickly. I'm off for the next couple of weeks, maybe I'll throw myself into the sex book....what...I wasn't going to do that...and just keep the ball(s) rolling. Stop! Just stop! I was actually thinking of calling one of the areas they frolicked "Warriors Knob"....I still may. I know it's dreadfully crash, but I may do it anyway. There will be plenty of boring, dull, and mundane moments to flesh out the book - - why not spice it up when I can? I will. I haven't been this excited about finishing...no...stop, finishing a book, in a very long time.  You can't see him, but Craig Allan Mackenzie is leaning just over my shoulder with his ticklish two-day stubble and the scent of fresh basil and castor oil soap wafting up into the air, assaulting my nostrils. How on earth is a girl to concentrate with that going on behind her? Nope.  I need to take a break and make sure he's helped back into his kilt so he can travel on down the road for a minute. I have things to do. 

See ya soon! 

Photo Credit: LindaClifford.com  (This is an unfolded kilt or "plaid")

Of Kilted Pleasure (a snippit from the book to come)

     Once more she watched as he removed his plaid, folding it carefully and laying it on the stand beside her bed.  His approach familiar, quiet, and without words.  He held her face tenderly in his calloused hands, his breath gentle and confident.  Tonight, unlike other nights, she dreamed they were in her room at home, laying stripped of their clothes, naked flesh melding into one, as they joined. Often in these dreams, she would find herself beside her imagined lover in a secluded glen, a moor with rolling fields of aromatic heather and the hearty thistle. The last rays of a nonchalant setting sun beating orange and rouge as it began to close its eyes to the day, allowing dusk to creep into her mind's vivid and lucid apparition. He would be with her all night.

    She urged her lily-soft palms as they pressed against his bare and naked chest to feel his heat, allowing him to warm her thoroughly; he could warm her deeply as no man, in reality, had ever been capable of doing. His warrior heart beat steadily upon her skin, pulsating, sending rhythmic vibrations through her wanting form. If she closed her eyes even a slight bit more she could feel each vibration as it penetrated into her very soul.

    Softly, only barely moving his strong long fingers, he traced along the softer form of her breast. Erotic quivers of desire rippled over her, tiny pinpoints of pleasure now vivid on her nude exposed flesh. She trembled with excitement, the anticipation of his hardness pressing inward on her thigh. Gently, he moved his right hand to drape hers to assist her with his desire for touch. She never fought him.

     Was he truly only an imagined lover? Would he ever manifest himself, showing her that true and sustainable love does exist in a world so cruel as to have enslaved her mind to this, her only means of escape from what others would call reality? She had never seen his face fully, he had never allowed it. Perhaps he was just that, an image, a thought, or perhaps he was waiting for her to leave her true and sustainable reality for what would be a better and more fulfilling fantasy; his idea of truth.

(Written by Jude Stringfellow 1/4/2023) 

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Spirit Animal Repost.

 https://judestringfellow.blogspot.com...

Now, to be perfectly honest with you, as a kid I never did any research or self-reflection. I liked dogs so I just said a dog.  My third-grade teacher, Mrs. Tipton, was not about to let me off the hook so easily. I had to pick a breed that best suited my personality, and you guessed it, because I had a Dachshund, (his name really was Rover) I chose the bigger-than-life-itself weenie dog from Germany!  Now, after a few more years of being aware of what it really means to associate your spirit and essence with that of an animal (most people prefer to think of something wild and free rather than a domesticated hound that lounges about the house and only comes to full attention if the mailman attacks the porch with his big blue bag), I began thinking more about it - - putting just a bit more thought and ponder into it; the truth is that I may be aggressively protective like my good friend Rover, and yes, I do have a tendency to think I'm better, bigger, badder, and more worthy than I am, but the more accurate answer to the question today, having had years to consider the actual truth about my being, the answer is the American Mustang.

    The American Mustang, though a horse, an equine, is nothing like the average or day-to-day American Quarter Horse, the Paint, the Thoroughbred, the Arabian, or the European cobs or ponies. An American Mustang is in fact wild. Domestication for the American Mustang is achievable, but it will take a while, and it will involve years of patiently working with, respecting, and befriending the animal. One does not merely lasso an American Mustang and expect to contain it. One does not expect (or dare attempt) to wrangle the Mustang in small spaces without a fight.  After thinking about it thoroughly and I do think about it thoroughly, the best way to describe myself as if I were an animal, is to acknowledge that I am first a bit wild, absolutely independent, and that my level of skepticism and untrust are markedly higher, much higher, than that of the average person. Someone has to earn my trust before obtaining it unless of course I freely offer it. I only do that in the rarest of occasions, but I do it. 

    I am not one to wait around. I make things happen. I am not one to wait on you. I make things happen for myself. I don't ever ask for permission. I may not even apologize for my actions. I am not one to ask for your help. I tend to find my own way. I will however allow you to be present, and I will give you the help you need if you require it, but I may not be the friendliest beast in the process. I may remain at a distance and patiently observe you. I intentionally observe anyone I am interested in, and I all but ignore anyone I am not interested in getting to know. This is again, a very deep seeded trait of the American Mustang.  Where a Quarter Horse may walk up to you because he or she is curious, the Mustang will hang back at a safe distance and follow your every move.  It can be unnerving to some, but it is essential to me. I won't give until I know I can trust; and if I consider the person to be worth my effort and time. If that sounds arrogant let it sound arrogant, we only have the time we have. Mine is precious to me.

    Today, I found myself standing, walking, and waiting behind someone who could only be described as the South American Sloth! I only say that because she was literally wearing a t-shirt proclaiming that her spirit animal was the Sloth.  Yeah, we get that. You're slower than molasses in January, your face is fixed in a permanent "whatever" and your nails are inappropriately long; useless. As I thought about her life choices for the split second of time that I allowed myself to think about her, I realized that the American Mustang in me wanted to throw my head, stomp my foot, and push her fluffy ass out of the way. She was hanging around in the same spot on the same aisle I had left to give her time to find whatever it was she was looking for. After a few minutes of shopping and circling back to the aisle, here she was still slothfully gazing, not really moving, just standing there gawking at her choices. MOVE ALREADY! MAKE YOUR DECISION!

    I did exactly what you know I did, except I think I did say "Excuse me".  I pushed past her, took the item from the shelf that I needed and left.  She took a full three seconds to respond to me. I was literally walking up the aisle and about to round the corner when I hear her dull droned voice call out "Hey, you don't have to be in such a hurry!"  I kept walking, never glancing back, just thinking to myself how I was actually not in a hurry, I had in fact given her about three minutes to make up her mind, and I utilized those same three minutes to pick up other items I needed, and took time to walk back to that particular aisle. 

    Well, you guessed it, when I arrived at the check-out stand she was taking her sweet time to also stand in line to check out. She was digging through her purse to get her money out, and she was talking to herself under her breath about whether or not she had brought enough cash. Hello, it's 2021. Most of us don't use cash, though I am not opposed to it, it is dirty, it does take more time, and it isn't really as efficient because you often forget (as she did) how much you have on your person. With debit and credit cards you have an idea at least, and if you don't know what your balance is you can use your banking app to figure it out.  You know I made my way just ahead of her before she could step into the queue before me. Nope. I was not going to waste more time with her. I was not about to go through the whole "Oh, I guess I don't have enough money with me. I may need to take something back" and then have her go through her lot to see what she couldn't live with. NOPE. I stepped up and zipped out, thus giving her the opportunity to stare at me one more time. She shook her head. I turned to her, faced her, and I did the same thing. 

    I pointed to her shirt. I (may have rudely) stated that "...the American Mustang is my spirit animal. I hope you'll understand now why it was that we had the experience we did back on Aisle 6. I hope you have a blessed day, and I hope you find your cash."  and with that, I nodded my head, took my bags and walked away - - but not out the door. No, I waited off to the side to see if in fact, she had brought enough cash. I thought for a minute that I may actually step in and help her if she had not. That was my thought process until she literally (probably by slothful means) dumped the contents of her very large and overtly unnecessarily heavy purse, onto the floor revealing that she had actually taken a few items from Aisle 6 that she had no intention of paying for. Wow.  Just....wow! I left the store. It is my belief that ANYONE who considers the sloth to be their spirit animal is both boring and uninteresting; prove me wrong.

    The experience made me think about what my children would say if I asked them what their spirit animals are. They're all adults now, they've had time to think about it more clearly and to come up with redeemable answers worthy of discussion.  Laura said her spirit animal is the Red Panda. She appreciates their awkwardness, they're adorable, and they are quirky at best.  Caity said the Grey Fox, and I can only imagine it's because they are quick on their feet, witty, and clever enough to evade nearly everyone and everything every time.  Reuben hadn't really given it much thought, he said he would have to think about it. It could be the Honey Badger because as we all know "Honey Badger don't care!"  Honey Badger will F*ck you up without sweating and without backing down. I can see that. Well, at least I know I did my best at raising three amazing creatures - - I have to say that when it comes to being a mother my spirit animal would have to be something absolutely involved and protective to the point of nuclear destruction should someone try to harm a hair on any of my children. Yeah, over time things change; but I will and have always been independent, fierce, and formidable. 

Photo Credit: Me

Let's Talk About Love.

 I mean to tell you what, (Southern drawl) when I was in my earlies I was not only a fan of Van Halen, I actually dated Alex for a minute. I swear, it was only a minute. You can't hang onto firecrackers very long folks; you get burned! I was young!! It was a moment. In 1981 I had just been hired by Gulf Oil, a major energy company.  This was before I was licensed as an insurance agent, and during the time I was going back and forth to Hollywood to work with and for James Garner...yes, THE James Garner. He was and still is, my most handsomest employer ever.  There's a blog about that actually. I'll see if I can find the link. https://judestringfellow.blogspot.com/2007/04/mr-handsome-my-2nd-favorite-boss.html  Working for Jim I was able to go on and off of numerous studios, and I did. I met Alex and we went out. He came in concert that year and we went out again. I worked for the concert promoter when in Oklahoma, when not working for Gulf, when not working for Jim.  You see, I've always been a good multi-tasker. 

    Love takes on so many faces and it has within it so many angles and depths. I think the Hebrew language has something like 16 words for the word "love", whereas in English we have a few. We'll say "puppy love" or "sweetheart", but what about the love a man has for his father, his mother, his children his sibling, or his friend? What about the love a woman has for those people? What about the love we have for mankind, for community? We need more words to describe an immediate knowledge of what we're talking about when we say "Oh my gosh, I love that!"  We're probably not saying we want to marry it, or spend the rest of the day with it, let alone our entire lives.  We need more words like "agape" which is the word the Hebrews use for the love that God has for us, unconditional love. 

    I wasn't in love with Alex; and in fact, I'm really happy we didn't continue to go out because there's absolutely no way I could have expected him to remain faithful to me or even expect that he would ever consider it. Why on Earth would he? He was young, in a major band, he was touring, he was hot, rich, and all the things the world says and sees as being successful and in control. He was magnificent to hang around with, and I will add that (surprisingly enough as it may be) he was an amazing gentleman the entire time we "dated", which is even too strong of a label to attach. We went out a few times.  It was what I'd call now, a moment in time. Certainly not love.

    I sat in my chair today, the chair I sit in to read and write in my journal or to pray in when I'm not in the closet praying. I sat there with the dog, covered in a wee soft blanket while holding the Kindle. I was just about to turn it on to read the book that was queued up to read, but my eye caught something directly in front of me which couldn't be ignored.  I saw the hope chest that Daddy made for my daughter Laura. He made one for Caity as well. I think he made one for all of his granddaughters in fact. My daddy was a cabinet maker before and after he retired as Regional Chief Wire Tech at Western Union. (Wow, just saying that makes me cry as I remember the love I had for the offices and backspace where Daddy worked at that low-profile building downtown with its amazing capabilities.) My daddy worked the night shift, and he was the one they called to fix circuits during storms - - he was a hero.

    The hope chest is a wooden box with a little relief heart attached in the middle. If you look at the "feet" you'll see that one has broken off, and when we put it back under the box we didn't do it correctly. I think that actually adds to the character really; Daddy would have made us take it off and do it again. He was like that, but he'd be shaking his head and grinning the entire time. He did that too.  I think of the love I have for that box. It's deep and it is solid. It's a love that reflects and transfers the love I have for its maker.  He is my father, he is my dad. He is now a guardian as he watches from Heaven, no doubt applying the same wisdom and guidance he instilled in me while he was allowed to be with us. I don't miss him in the way others may. I am glad he's where he is because he wasn't happy here; not in the end.  I love the memories I have of him when I was a kid. I love the memories I have of him when I was a teen and needed advice. I love the memories I have of him when he would take my kids for rides on the lawnmower or let them "help" him with cabinet building. (They sanded pieces of wood on the porch while he worked in the workshop)

    Love is a very splendid and complex thing. I can love a person without knowing him. I can love a poem without having written it. I can love a dream I will have tomorrow or the one I had last night. I can love and I will love, and if I had anything to say about it, I would wish and pour love onto everything I see, hear, touch, taste, smell, or feel (or think).  I would wrap myself in love if it were possible and I would never let Love leave without taking me with it. I like the verse Corinthians 13:13 "And now abideth three things, faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love."  The King James renders the word "charity" but it is translated properly into the general word for love. Love really is the answer. Love really is the key. Love really is the evidence, and love really is all we really need.  It never ends and it never quits and it never dies, not if it is real love.

Photo Credit: Me. (Yeah, I love Sammy the fat cat too...and yes, I love Amazon and plaid wrapping paper. LOL) 

New Year! New Goals!! Confetti Pretzels!!

 Whoo Hoo!  Right now, as I type this, I am in the middle of cleaning my apartment. I have decided that with the new year, the new challenges, and new beginnings, one of those beginnings and challenges will be to keep a nearly spotless place. It will be more than just a challenge considering I am not the only one living in this space. I still have that red-headed woman who doesn't seem to be able to strike out on her own, nor does she seem to want to allow me to do the same.  It will happen. I will be free from her I promise...until then, the kitchen will feel my wrath on a daily basis! I may as well throw in the dining room since they're connected. Whip up on that, why don't cha!

    The purpose of beginnings is to give us all a head start on the way we want to live our lives. Cleaning is just part of that. I think, and I believe that if I were to keep up with it in a better and more disciplined manner, I would in fact achieve my goal(s) without much effort. It's more of a matter of tracking, and not allowing something to become overwhelming to the point that it doesn't really matter. I get that way with Laura sometimes. I'll clean, she'll mess, I'll clean, she'll mess, and finally, I just let it go. After it reaches a point I just can't take it anymore, she tends to mosey over and push me out of the way as she doesn't like to clean with others. She's a lone scrubber! Fine, be a solitudest, but do it please! If I had a few realistic 2023 goals, the first would be to keep a cleaner apartment, and to get my own place...daughter free. How dull. I know.

    Last night I had a dream or two, and though my subconscious knew that the year was ending and a new one had just started, I don't believe the dream I had about confetti pretzels was actually a dream about starting the new year. Nope. I think it was starting a new something, but not the year. When I looked it up, and I always look it up, the confetti part was pretty self-explanatory. Confetti has and will always represent parties, fun, celebration, victory, and newness. I get that.  The icing-dipped pretzels however tell another story. The fact that the food was a savory and sweet snack, one that is purposely twisted, baked, and salted, has a lot to do with what is going on in my life at the moment. I was shocked to find out what it means to dream about pretzels! Go look it up for yourself, or just follow the link I'll provide.

    Dreaming of twisted pretzels is tantamount to dreaming about finding the power within yourself to stop, listen, learn, and relax. You can now "unwind" because whatever it was that you were fighting or working toward, has been fulfilled as far as you're concerned. You only have to relax and wait. It will happen.  That, and the added bonus and pleasure(s) of being dipped in sweetness, can only relate to the fact that not only will the hard times end, and the good times roll, but that those good times will be wrought with blessings, pleasures, meaningful goodness, and genuine happiness.  Then, yes, to be sprinkled with confetti sprinkles? C'mon! I'm about to have the best year ever both professionally and financially. Those are the two areas I have been struggling with over the past several months. I am just gonna sit back and watch the fireworks!!

    In Scotland, the party is called "Hogmanay".  It literally means "The last of the year" and because the Kirk (Church) had forbidden and outlawed the celebrating of Christmas for about 400 years (can you believe that), the people of Scotland were more than excited to ring in each New Year with what seemed like craziness and endless joyful jollification!! Love it when I can use those words together!  Hogmanay was a time and is a time, of both happiness for the new starts and relief of giving up the old. They literally open up their doors in Scotland at the stroke of midnight to let out the old and to let in the new. I like that. I did that last night. The dog was a bit confused, but she did walk out onto the patio and sniff the new 2023 air for the first time. 

    Goals, resolutions, wants, needs, desires, and passions. What do we all want for the new year? Well, we probably all want pretty much the same things if you think about it. We want good health, we want safety, we want peace, we want to get along with people. What do I do, what can you do, to make these marks? Well, I know for me, the health issue has been lacking lately, so I'll be picking that one back up again. I don't go to the gym, but work out at home, and I walk. I just bought a 20-pound bar to lift and a shoulder stretchy thingy-ma-gig that will supposedly get rid of the back flab and strengthen the muscles back there. I'm hoping!! Here's to hoping. I have two weighted balls, one is an 8-pounder and the other a 12-pounder. I watch videos and lift those. I can keep that up, and I can return to walking. If I don't go to the gym I can go to the mall and walk it. There's nothing like getting your steps in. I can lower the carbs, cut out the sugars, do the right probiotics...you know, the same things I've done but pay more attention to it, and maybe even track it for a minute to get myself back on track.  Holidays...we love them, but they really wreck our conduct!! (that cheesecake was worth it, not gonna lie)

    My job situation is still up in the air, but that's just for now. I have done what I need to do. I have prayed, and I have made known what needs to be made known. I will either return or move forward. God and God alone is in control of that. I have what I need and He always provides. The pretzel in me has seen that the salt has kept me preserved. I am able to know and have complete confidence that I was not at fault, but that I was wronged. God will forgive, and I will forgive. In no time I'll be reporting my celebration, my confetti...my dipped-in-icing moment.  Let God be praised and blessed for the food, the fun, and the comfort of both knowing that this new year is His and this new me is also His. Why would I try to manage what I know I have no power over? 

    Be loved. Be blessed. Love and bless others.  Happy 2023!!  Breathe!

https://www.dreambible.com/search.php?q=Pretzel

Photo Credit: Recipesquickneasy.com

I Won't Be Unemployed for Long.

5, 4, 3, 2....1.  Happy New Year.  New beginnings. New challenges.  With the licenses, experience, knowledge, and skillsets I have, I will be employed soon. If not where I was...perhaps...well, I'll let that cat out of the bag if and when I need to.  For now?  Edinburgh. Hogmanay!

Photo Credit: Stoketravel.com