A Little This and That on Thursday Morning

“Sometimes I feel as if no one here will ever see me as I am…The threads of my life are tangled in the web of all the other lives here…"

Tamras in When Women Were Warriors Book One: The Warrior’s Path by Catherine M. Wilson 

I just knew it before I began reading it.  "When Women Were Warriors: the Warrior's Path" was going to be the 'real thing' for me.  I cannot put this book down, even snuck some reading time when I was supposed to be working.  I see Part Two and Three on he horizon. I am not usually a fiction reader, but stories about priestesses or warrior women get me every time. It is hard to explain.  They just seem so familiar to me, almost as if I were there. Perhaps I was there...in a lifetime long ago.

Were there once only women warriors, Mother?”
“Don’t know.”
“Oh.” I started to get up.
“Makes sense,” she said.
“Why?”
“Who else should take a life? No man ever brought a child out of his body.”
Something about that explanation bothered me. “Do you mean that a woman may take a life because she can give life back?”
“No, no,” she said. “Think of a woman whose body has made a child. Who gave birth to it. Cradled and nursed it. Loved it. She will hold life dear differently than someone who has not.”
I wondered if once only mothers had been warriors.” 

When Women Were Warriors             

I believe in reincarnation.  I believe that this one life cannot be all there is. If that were the case, then why weren't we all given an even chance? Why are some born into a life of ease and others into a life of toil? I believe we come into this life searching for what we know.  This is why I was led down my life path to become an Ordained Minister and a counselor long before I had my past life reading done by the A.R.E. It was within me even before I was born.

As per my social security benefits.  I went on line and pulled up my account.  66 is indeed my full retirement age.  I also began the process of pulling everything together yesterday.  I finally got my picture taken for my half-fare card (something I should have done a long time ago), applied for Medicare,  and found out some information about my pension from my other job.  I also downloaded some information about programs and forms I will need in order to apply. I must look into this further, but from first glances I read if one reaches full retirement age, one may still work and collect their benefits.  If that is the case, I may apply before I retire and keep banking the money, but there are questions I need answered first.  For one thing, is it counted along with your salary as income, and if that's the case it would really bring me way above my tax bracket...meaning I'll have to pay it  back in taxes.  Don't want that, but it would be nice to build a little nest egg over the year before I fully retire. But, like I said, nothing will be done in haste.  One step at a time and everything well researched before decisions are made.

Speaking of half-fare cards.  Something happened on the way to work that I wanted to share with you.  The nerve of some people bewilders me.  I waited patiently in line to add some money onto my metrocard, and when it was my turn, I handed the clerk my card and the twenty dollars, and just as I did a woman came out of nowhere yelling that her metrocard wasn't working. She continued to carry on, hollering at the token booth clerk, and I was afraid he would lose his concentration and make a mistake, so I said to her, "Please, let him finish." She responded, "Well, I have to get to the physical therapist. I have a law suit." I wanted to say, "So?", but I didn't. She then added, "I work for a lawyer." I thought to myself, 'is that supposed to scare me into letting you cut in front of me?' I finished with my business and walked off. 

As I waited downstairs for the train, I could hear her screaming at the poor clerk because he would not replace her card on the spot. She was threatening him with a lawsuit if he did not do as she asked, as if she really had a leg to stand on. The MTA has a protocol which is always followed in the case of cards that don't work. The token booth clerk provides a form that is filled out and sent to the MTA along with the non-working metrocard. A new card is then mailed within a few weeks. I've had to do it several times. Yeah, we all want instant gratitude, but life just doesn't work that way. Sometimes we just have to wait for the things we want. Besides, the woman was lugging around one of those big book bags that come on wheels, and it was 'full'.  I have to wonder what kind of injury she has if she can lug that thing up and down the subway stairs.  I know I couldn't.

Well, today is the day I see the pulmonologist for the results of my cat scan.  I'm really scared.  Please say a prayer that all goes well for me.  I'm leaning on all of you for strength. Thanks for being here.

Wednesday Ramble

 After a lifetime of working, raising families, and contributing to the success of this nation in countless other ways, senior citizens deserve to retire with dignity.

 
Charlie Gonzalez

 

Yesterday I received an email from a friend I had made on my old Yahoo group.  She wanted to tell me she had finally done it....retired....and asked how I was making out.  I told her I was still working and planned to work until full retirement age so as not to lose any benefits.  I'm also eligible for a pension from my other job, but only after I reach full retirement age, thinking it was 67. "But, isn't your birthday next month?" She asked.  "Yes", I responded, "but I will only be 66.  I still have a year to go."  Well, it turns out that I was wrong.  Because of my year of birth, I will be eligible to retire with 'FULL BENEFITS' next month when I reach my 66th birthday.  I am speechless.  Speechless because I had thought I was going to be forced to work another year to get all my benefits...and speechless because I can't believe I have reached the retirement age.  Where has the time gone?

It seems like only yesterday I walked into my first job...a tiny restaurant in my old neighborhood.  I was barely 16, and I turned out to be a terrible waitress.  I was always forgetting who got what and without fail, I'd end up holding an extra hamburger after the lunch run.   As terrible as I was, the man didn't fire me because I was a neighborhood kid trying to do the right thing.   Years later, when I worked in catering to put myself through school, I did so much better because everybody got the same thing.

So, how am I feeling now?  Well, I think it only natural that I feel kind of sad.  What has been a huge part of my life has almost ended.  I'll be 66, and I have worked since age 16.  That is 50 years of my life I will be saying good-bye to.  But, the other part of me is feeling so exhilarated.  I will finally be free.  My time will be MY time. I will be able get up and go to bed whenever I please because there will be no alarm clock to go off bright and early in the morning.  And if I feel like rocking in my chair all day and reading a book, I can choose to do so without feeling guilty about taking a day off. More importantly, I will no longer have to deal with those dreadful subways on a daily basis suffer from depression because I am overworked at my job and see no way out. It feels good to know that I can walk in there next month and hand in my resignation letter rather than feel trapped as I have been.

Of course, there is no way I am going to do that.  Those were the kind of things I did in my youth.  I thought nothing of quitting a job because I knew there was always going to be something else out there waiting for me.  Well, that's not true anymore.  Who's going to hire a 66 year old woman who walks with a cane?  Besides, I don't have it in me to start over now. So, before I hand in my letter, there is so much planning to do.   must have an income and medical insurance in place. Any tips from retirees will be greatly appreciated. 

All in all I am feeling good right now.  That hopeless feeling is gone, and I feel as if a 500 pound weight has been lifted from my shoulders. It hasn't been easy on me traipsing back and forth to work with my cane, in pain, and not seeing any way out for another year.  Yes, it will be sad to say good-bye, but it is something we all have to face one day, and if I fill my days with things I enjoy, I won't miss it as much.  There IS life after work.

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.  

J. Lubbock

 

Dear Ancestor

Spent some time over the long weekend placing some flowers on graves family members who were veterans starting back from the Revolutionary war.  

The headstone of my fifth great grandfather is plainly distinguished by this inscription: "John Walton, Died July 30, 1787, 87 years of age." His wife, Anne lies next to him. She died at age 73 in 1791. John had a farm between Mt. Hope and Middle forge which was right down the road from where I once lived and is near the Walton Burial Ground (above)  which is located in Rockaway, Morris, New Jersey and is now a part of Picatinny Arsenal.  It amazes me that I lived so close, yet we were so far apart. I didn't know he was there. It touched my heart when I found the above picture on Ancestry one night when I was doing a bit of genealogical work.  It means someone other than me cares.

DEAR ANCESTOR

Your tombstone stands among the rest;

Neglected and alone.

The name and date are chiseled out

On polished, marbled stone.

It reaches out to all who care

It is too late to mourn.

You did not know that I exist

You died and I was born.

Yet each of us are cells of you

In flesh, in blood, in bone.

Our blood contracts and beats a pulse

Entirely not our own.

Dear Ancestor, the place you filled

One hundred years ago

Spreads out among the ones you left

Who would have loved you so.

I wonder if you lived and loved,

I wonder if you knew

That someday I would find this spot,

And come to visit you. 

Author Unknown

The above is St. Micheal's Church in Barton Turf, Norfolk, England.  My 2nd great grandfather is buried there. Richard never fought in a war.  Actually, he hardly had time to do much in his life. He was only 21 years old when he died.  Yet, he lived long enough to have a child, Constance Mary, my great grandmother.  

Above are the stones of my 9th great grandparents, John and Mary Prescott.  John was the founder of Lancaster, Massachusetts. The inscription on his original grave marker (not above) reads simply:

JOHN

PRESCOTT

DECASED

A memorial stone erected a long time after John Prescott's death reads:

Here With his children about him lies John Prescott Founder of Lancaster and first settler of Worcester County Born at Standish Lancashire England Died at Lancaster Massachusetts Dec. 1681 Inspired by the love of liberty and the fear of God This stout hearted pioneer Forsaking the pleasant vales of England And encountered [sic] wild beast and savage To secure freedom For himself and his posterity His faith and virtues have been inherited by many descendants Who in every generation have well served the state In war, in literature, at the bar, in the pulpit, in public life, And in Christian homes.

And finally, a repost of a photo of the Old Prescott Burial ground in Lancaster that I posted two years ago.  Notice the orbs. It sure does appear that the Prescott family were paying a visit on that day.  

TGIF

My free time at home is usually spent emailing, listening to music, reading and talking on the phone. I wish I was on the phone less, but I have been fortunate to stay in touch with so many incredible friends. 

Steve Nash

Wow!!!  Friday already.  This is a pay week so it means  Saturday will be a day spent with shopping and cooking.  But I did have a rather pleasant surprise yesterday.  I'd forgotten that Monday was a holiday until I saw the fliers up announcing that Monday the office was going to be closed. Talk about elation. Another three day  weekend...the second in a row. How great is that?  I can bust my butt on Saturday and still have two days to rest.

Hope you all had a nice Valentine's Day. I did.  When I arrived home from work I discovered that hubby had cooked me a nice Dominican style dinner--Pernil, gondulas and rice, salad. It was fantastic. I wish he'd do this more often because he is actually quite a good cook. Many years ago he worked in a fancy restaurant in downtown Brooklyn so he knows what he is doing in the kitchen. I know he can chop better than I can. He chops his onions and peppers just like you see the chefs on television do.  I've never learned how.  What I do is 'slice'. 

I asked  him not to get me chocolates; I just don't like candy anymore.   Wow, does one really outgrow chocolate, I wonder? Besides, Valentine's Day to me is more about love and  how important love and compassion  is in the world.  And with that, I'll end this week with the following verse from the Bible...

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” 

1 Corinthians 13

Wishing you all a weekend filled with love, joy, and peace.  See you on Monday.

Happy Valentine's Day

According to one legend, the Roman god of Love, was hurrying to the council of the gods, carrying a vase of nectar to the gods on Mount Olympus when he stumbled and spilled a drop on the ground. This drop grew into a beautiful rose, the most endearing flower to give a woman on Valentines Day.

As usual, holiday time always stirs up some fond childhood memories, and Valentine's Day is no exception. In elementary school, this was such a special day for us kids, and for weeks we prepared and looked forward to our classroom party. See if you can remember the following....

...passing out Valentines to all the kids in the class...

...and receiving one from the cutest boy in class, but, of course, he 'really' hadn't singled you out.  Back in the day, we were required to give a Valentine to each kid in the class.  That way no one felt unwanted.

...cupcakes with confetti or heart shaped bits on them. 

... Spending hours making lacy Valentine’s Day cards out of construction paper, white paper doilies, and paste for our family and friends. 

 ...heart shaped candies with sayings such as 'Be Mine" 

...stretchable heart shaped candy necklaces and bracelets 

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

  Go, Cupid, and my sweetheart tell

    I love her well.

    Yes, though she tramples on my heart

    And rends that bleeding thing apart;

    And though she rolls a scornful eye

    On doting me when I go by;

    And though she scouts at everything

    As tribute unto her I bring -

    Apple, banana, caramel -

    Haste, Cupid, to my love and tell,

    In spite of all, I love her well!

    And further say I have a sled

    Cushioned in blue and painted red!

    The groceryman has promised I

    Can "hitch" whenever he goes by -

    Go, tell her that, and, furthermore,

    Apprise my sweetheart that a score

    Of other little girls implore

    The boon of riding on that sled

    Painted and hitched, as aforesaid; -

    And tell her, Cupid, only she

    Shall ride upon that sled with me!

    Tell her this all, and further tell

    I love her well.

Eugene Field

A Few Short Words of Thanks

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.

Albert Schweitzer

Just a short note today to tell you all how much I appreciate you.  When I am feeling down, you are there to pick me up.  And when I experience joy, you are always there to celebrate along with me. That is what friendship is all about...and I am truly blessed. Thank you for being there.

When presses hard my load of care,
    And other friends from me depart,
    I want a friend my grief to share,
    With faithful speech and loving heart.

    I want a friend of noble mind,
    Who loves me more than praise or pelf,
    Reproves my faults with spirit kind,
    And thinks of me as well as self--

    A friend whose ear is ever closed
    Against traducers' poison breath;
    And, though in me be not disclosed
    An equal love, yet loves till death--

    A friend who knows my weakness well,
    And ever seeks to calm my fears;
    If words should fail the storm to quell,
    Will soothe my fevered heart with tears--

    A friend not moved by jealousy
    Should I outrun him in life's race;
    And though I doubt, still trusts in me
    With loyal heart and cloudless face.

    True friendship knows both joy and grief,
    The sweetest pleasure, keenest pain;
    Its sharpest pangs are ever brief,
    Mere flitting clouds before the rain.

    But soon the joy returns again
    With bluer sky and brighter light;
    The grief proves but a narrow glen
    All full of flowers, though hid from sight.

    And e'en in darkness we inhale
    The fragrant odors love emits;
    Friendship like this can never fail--
    On love's strong throne its monarch sits.

    True friendship is of greater worth
    Than words, though they were solid gold.
    To all the glittering gems of earth
    I it prefer, a thousandfold.

    One Friend I have who knows my heart,
    And loves me with a changeless love;
    I love Him, too--nor death can part
    Us two, for we will love above.

    A woman's love to His is faint;
    No brother cleaves as close as He;
    No seraph words could ever paint
    The love this Friend now bears to me.

Joseph Horatio Chant

Tuesday Ramble

Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.

John Ruskin Read

Needless to say, yesterday was one of those days that made you really wish that you had called in sick. It was downright 'nasty' in the morning. The rain was coming down in torrents making early morning travel quite treacherous, especially the sidewalks in front of those homes that hadn't been shoveled. The slush had become quite icy, and I found myself hanging onto fences with one hand and the cane with the other. No matter where you live there is always some who are inconsiderate of others and refuse to shovel. 

Take the house next door to my building, for example. Actually I was kind of surprised.  After all, they not only own a big three-story house in which they rent out two apartments, but they also have a parking lot next door which fits about eight cars...so we know that they are raking in the dough. Yet, not one bothered to shovel. Heck, if they didn't want to do it, why not pay some kid $25 to do it. It's not that they are not out there trying to earn a buck. I know that there are some who are elderly or disabled who cannot afford to pay someone to do it. In that case, wouldn't it be nice if the neighbors chipped in to help? That would be the kindly thing to do. 

The old man who lived upstairs from me in my old home used to do that.  A rare breed, he always shoveled for our shut-in neighbor, and he was almost as old as she was. He was nice that way, but also had his idiosyncracies.  I'll never forget when he rang my bell and told me I should store my garbage in my freezer.  He was always offering such odd advice as that.  But, then he passed and his irresponsible addict son took over and the war began between he and my landlady, each trying to put me in the middle. I read where they sold that house in January.

Went for my cat scan yesterday. Now I will be on pins and needles until the 21st when I see the pulmonologist.  When the radiologist wished me 'good luck' yesterday as I was leaving, immediately I thought that he had found something. My next stop will be the needle in my thyroid to draw out the fluid and biopsy it.  OMG, will I be glad when all of this is over.  I also stopped yesterday at the clinic to see my doctor, but found that she doesn't work on Monday.  I've developed a fairly constant tickling in my throat which has caused a chronic cough...almost always when I am at rest....in bed, in my rocking chair, even seated at my desk at work.  On the train, people look at you like you have the plague, and I don't blame them. 

One morning I was watching Fox news and their regular doctor came on and began talking about how some blood pressure medications can cause this.  I looked it up and sure enough, my Lisinopril will cause this.  For a couple of months I have been racking my brain and blaming just about everything...sinuses, thyroid, post nasal drip...and now I know.  And, as I recall it began when she raised my dosage. 

Wow, I am certainly pretty long-winded, aren't I?  I only started out to say a few things, and I wrote a chapter in a book.  Sorry about that.  Speaking of books, I cannot seem to put "On the Right Path" down.  The more I read, the more I see myself...from her disillusionment with Christianity, to having your childhood friends turn against you, to her smoking and drinking days of her early twenties. Like the author says about herself, after having led such a sheltered life, "I was like a child exploring life for the first time" and did not know how to act. My gosh, this book could have been written about me. It has me totally mesmerized. 

Well, have to run now.  Gonna be late if I don't get a move on.  Remember...

It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light.

Aristotle Onassis