Monthly Archives: May 2012
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A Peek Inside
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I have been blogging now almost three months, and I often wonder what name hides behind the WordPress names that I respond to. I have wondered what you look like and do not always know what area you are from. I have decided to share with you a little about myself through pictures I have taken through the years. The top photo is of me, and the one beneath is my brother. This is my eldest child, a daughter, with her husband, and one of their daughters standing with them,at the bottom of the page.
This little girl,third photo down
, is another one of my granddaughters.
The little boy on the bike is also a grandson to me. 
The sixth photo down is the mother of the little boy on the bike. She is the one in the bottom left hand corner. They are a part of my youngest son’s family.The photo under these words with a young man holding the little girl and the boy sitting beside him is my youngest son and his two children, more of my grandchildren.
The young man sitting alone, is my middle son. Now I have shown you my three children. Mom, me and son together, next to the bottom. Son-in-law and his son, my grandson together,third from the bottom.
My daughter and her daughter, my oldest grandchild,eighth from top. My entire family minus the middle son, one granddaughter and one more grandson. I love them all, and wish they were all living near me. Things that I enjoy doing are
taking photographs. Here is one I took of tree leaf reflections. Here are two I took of the skies after the storm. I also love antiques and blogging. Well here is my sweet family, and some photos of nature. I have lived in Indiana all of my life except a short time when I lived in Florida. There is nothing more important to me than living for God and my family. Thank-you for stopping by and getting a better peek of who I am.
Picture It And Write It, Prompt #23
Celia was in David’s arms once again. Lovers they had become. Celia embracing him with all of her emotions and needs, pouring them into David, feeling his heart beating against her bare breasts, his arms wrapped around her making her feel beautiful.
Celia was a spoiled woman, who had been given all of her heart’s desires by her father. Her father loved her and could never discipline her. He never wanted to see her with a sad face. Celia was a married woman, who had a hard-working husband, named Bill. Bill was secure, providing money for all of her needs, or so he thought.
Celia had met David at a local pub. She had gone there because of another argument between her and Bill. She had seen a beautiful dress in a store window the day before, and bringing this up to Bill at supper tonight, he had said no. Celia wanted this dress. She could imagine herself walking the streets of downtown, with all the people staring at her beauty. Bill’s argument was that she had enough dresses already hanging in her closet. That the house and auto insurance premiums were coming due, and these needed to be paid first. They would try to buy the dress out of the next pay check. Celia was not happy with this plan. She wanted the dress now. She had walked out of their home, and went straight to the pub, to drown her sorrows in music and alcohol. While there, she drew the attention of David. David was a lady’s man. He thought all women adored him, and he used all women for his own enjoyments, usually dropping each one as his needs were fulfilled.
He walked up to her and asked her if he could buy her a drink. Celia looked up at him and saw the most beautiful dark eyes she had ever seen, and motioned for David to sit down next to her. They drank and they chatted. He told her about his nice car he had just purchased two weeks ago. She asked him what kind of work he did, and he told her he was in sales. David told her that he lived in a high-rise only a walking distance away. After some time of senseless chat had occurred, he ask her if she would like to come with him. Celia saw her new dress hanging in her closet. All she had to do was entertain David and fulfill his fantasies, and the dress would be hers.
They both walked to his apartment, and when the door was unlocked, David let her go in first. As soon as the door was shut behind them and locked, he began to tear her clothes off and she was tugging at his also. Their lips met hard, their hands grasping for each other, as they made their way to his bedroom. David threw her on his bed, and took her there. After their love session was over, she told him that she wished her husband could make love to her like this. She explained that their love-making had become boring and too routine. David didn’t even blink when she mentioned her husband. He didn’t care if she was married or not. All that mattered to David, was that for tonight, she was his. Having gotten his needs taken care of, he stood up and started to get dressed. Celia asked him why he was in such a hurry to end this night, and David mentioned that he had forgotten an important phone call he needed to make. Celia said nothing, and with a pouty face, got up and dressed. He walked her back to the pub, and gave her a piece of paper with his phone number on it, and said, call me, the next time you are going to be at the pub. Celia took the paper and placed it in her purse, and walked home, being no closer to the dress she wanted than she was before.
Bill was sitting at his office desk in their den, going over their budget. He told Celia, that he would be able to buy her the dress in two weeks. She made a grunting sound and walked past him, to their bedroom, and running herself a nice, hot, bubble bath. She got in and went over the past few hours of her evening. Sure, David was good enough in bed, but he could offer her much more, than just
thrills. Meanwhile, a block away, David was thinking of her also, and knew that he had a wild cat here, and he wanted more.
A few days later, Bill had to leave for an overnight business trip. Celia found her piece of paper with David’s phone number on it, and she called him. She told him she would be at the pub that evening, around ten. She asked him if he would care to join him for a drink. She wanted the dress, and he wanted his desires met, so once again, Celia was in David’s arms, and lovers they became.
This story was written for Picture And Write it by Terry Shepherd and credits going to
http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/
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The Gift
Weddings 2011 (Photo credit: The Style PA)
She laid down for the night in her big, empty bed. She hugged her extra pillow close to her. She had made this a habit each night since he went away. Lying there in the darkness, tears ran down her cheeks as she relived her marriage, and wondered how it could have ended. She went back to the days when they had promised to love each other until death came for one. Stars shone in her eyes, and admiration came from his. Their reflections bouncing off of each other, told others this marriage was sound, secure, and never-ending. The wedding was beautiful. She wore a beautiful, white flowing gown, with pearls and crystals glistening from the veil and the gown. The church’s windows caused dancing of lights to travel from one guest to another, as she walked down the aisle. Her father, who rested his arm softly around hers, was so proud to be walking his eldest daughter down the path to greet her future. She thought at that moment, seeing him in his white shirt and black tux, that there was no more handsome man than he. She looked straight ahead, to the tower of strength, her protector, the man she wanted to commit the rest of her life to, and felt flutters in her heart, as her love for him came pounding through. They had met through a friend, at a graduation party of one of her cousins. They noticed each other immediately, and had made introductions, and had never been apart since. He was hard-working, he worked for his father in the lumber business. He was the second in command. They spent many afternoons on the weekends taking in picnics at the local park, getting to know each other, finding that they had much in common. He was a strong man of his faith, and it seemed nothing could stand in his way of following the Lord. He wanted a family, with two or three children. She loved children also. She watched over the toddlers during church services and felt a strong connection between them and her. She wanted a home in the city, and he wanted a home in the country. They came to a compatible decision, and decided to buy a home on the outskirts of town. He was going to remain at his father’s business, and she was going to be a stay-at-home wife, babysitting, until they had a family of their own. The wedding was started. Her father gave her to him, with blessings. She glanced back at her mother, and saw tears of joy, and they smiled at each other. The vows being said, the longing kiss had been given. The cake had been cut, and all gifts had been opened. They went on their honeymoon, to an island with small population. There they gave their love to each other, and committed themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Back from their dream vacation, life carried on as if nothing had happened in those prior days. She found children to care for and he continued his work. They saved every penny, and within one year, they had enough to put down on their very first home. The first night of living in their new home, they made it truly theirs, pouring their love through out each room. They were made for each other, their lives fit like a perfect puzzle. There was only one thing left that they both desired, and this was children. Spring turned to fall and Thanksgiving brought them two new changes to their lives. At the Turkey dinner, after all were finished, the newlyweds stood up to make two announcements. The first one, the one they had dreamed about, was they were expecting! The family was so happy for them. Congratulations and hugs were given. Plans were being made for the new baby’s arrival. A crib built by grandpa, a crocheted blanket made by grandma. The second piece of news was held in until all the excitement of the baby was settled down. As they were all in the living room, sipping on left-over desserts and drinking coffee, the new husband stood up and took an envelope out of his shirt pocket. He handed it to his father to read. When the father read this news, he sat down in his chair, and his face grew pale. The questions started coming. What was happening, what was this all about. The father regained himself and announced that his son had been drafted, and would be leaving for military duty in thirty days. The room grew silent. No one wanted to speak. You could hear a pin dropping, it was so quiet. Soon the father made the first move. He spoke about how proud he was of his son, and soon the military would notice what a fine man his son was and he would make lieutenant in no time at all. Everyone in the room forced themselves to make happy comments about the new experiences he would be living. The night ended, and the newlyweds were in their bed, holding each other, and showing their feelings. Giving to each other like they had never given. Time passed and soon it was time for him to deport. They hugged, they cried, making promises to write every day, to call when ever they could. The entire family was their to send him off, and there were no dry eyes anywhere. Waves of goodbye’s and memories of soft lips touching his kept him going through out the months. He came home on a leave for a short time, but it went by too quickly and soon he was sent overseas for a mission. Life moved slowly for the expecting mother, but she tried keeping busy with getting the baby’s room all finished, buying baby clothes, and there was also two baby showers that were given for her. One night, she lay down in her bed and hugged the pillow next to her, remembering him with tears in her eyes, and waiting for his home arrival. She fell asleep and a few hours later was woken by pains. She was in labor! She called her doctor and then her parents. They came and picked her up and together, as family, they were introduced to the newest member of the family. A boy, a boy who looked just like his father. Each member took turns holding him and touching his fingers, and letting the new addition know that he was loved. The new mother was so happy and asked her father to try to get in touch with the new father to let him know of this new miracle in their lives. Grandpa was able to get straight through, and you could hear the hoops and hollers through the phone of his excitement. He was coming home. He had been saving his time for this and now he was going to go home on a small leave, to welcome his new son. He would be home in a couple of weeks. The excitement grew as new mommy awaited new daddy’s arrival. She had since come home and was rocking the baby after just giving him his morning bath. When she opened the door, there stood a military captain with papers in his hand. He offered them to her with his apologies. Her beloved husband, the new daddy that had never met his son, had been killed in action. She closed the door saying nothing to the officer and went and sat down in the rocker. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, but knew eventually, that she needed to call her parents. They immediately came over, and took their new grandson home with them to give her time to think and to make plans for his burial. Her life was a blur. The days never separated. She lay in her bed, hugging her extra pillow, tears running down her cheeks, remembering him lying there next to her, how they had committed their love to each other and how now life has been changed without permission. The baby cried out and she got up and went to him. This was the biggest gift God had ever-blessed her with. A part of her husband will live on forever through his son. She picked the baby up and hugged him tight to her heart, telling him his daddy loved him so much and would be so proud of him.
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Picture It And Write It, Prompt #28
This home stands abandoned now. Left with rooms filled with whispers of laughter and love from its prior guests. I walked in the front door and sat down in one of the wooden rockers. It squeaked against the old wooden floors. I could remember coming here when I was a child. Hearing the stories of how children had been born and raised here. There were summer reunions held here. All family members made a special trip to this house and they had a feast of many great foods. The children would swim, and fish, and would venture into nature and look for bugs and insects. I could remember finding a rare bug, and taking it to show grandpa. He said it was the most beautiful bug he had ever seen. He took one of his old boxes and went to his wife’s sewing box and pulled out a straight pin, and he pinned the bug for me. I kept this in my special place in my bedroom among the other memories I had collected through the years. There had been weddings here, and funeral dinners held here. It was a home-built with love by my great grandma and grandpa. I stopped rocking and sat very still. I could hear giggles coming from the kitchen, where children had helped bake home-made cookies. I scooted my rocker around so it was facing the big living room. The furniture was still in its place, but covered with sheets. I could picture grandpa standing over grandma with a twig of mistletoe at Christmas, and I remember giggling as I stole a peek of them kissing. Lots of memories here. A home filled with love, now standing empty. I placed the rocker back in its original place and placed the sheet over it, to protect the memories and never let them escape. I walked out of the house and shut the door softly, singing to myself.
This story was written by me for a post of Picture It And Write It
He Is Too Young
Respite Care Day Camp (Photo credit: The Neenan Company)
Do you have any idea what it is like hearing the words, you aren’t old enough? Alright, I admit, we are seniors, my brother and I, but yet we aren’t. We can get discounts at restaurants, but if you try to get help from an organization, then you are definitely NOT a senior. I decided this morning, that I was going to spend my free time finding me someone in this city to help give me the break I so need. I am thinking at the least, two hours a week. This isn’t asking too much, do you think? When you count the hours in a week, this isn’t even worth mentioning. I started off by calling the Parkinson’s Foundation, first thing. They had no help, they don’t offer any type of respite care. They actually do, but Al doesn’t fit the criteria, because he isn’t old enough. For heaven’s sake! What other rules are out there that we have to abide by? They told me when he was sixty-five, they could set him up with some help. The advised me to call Real Services, and ask for the aging department. I hung up and dialed the number I was given. When I got to the right department, I was informed, this had nothing to do with his age. Wonderful! They would love to be of help to us. Great! The program they once had for volunteers was over. Darn it! They told me that they have reached out and no one will volunteer anymore. Everyone wants paid, and there is no funding any longer due to the changes from the President. Programs are being cut left and right for the people who actually need them. Now I don’t know if I fall in to the category of actually needing them. Need? That is a powerful word. Will I die if I don’t get some relief? Most likely not. Could this affect my health by being run down constantly? Probably. If anything should happen to me, then my medicare would gladly help me out in a hospitalization situation, but who will care for Al while I would be in the hospital? Well, I need not go further in to this discussion, because I know in my heart that God will keep me safe for Al’s sake. I am just frustrated right now, so I am venting. This is what WordPress is for, right? To vent, to get emotional support? Real services told me to contact a church. There is a church that we have attended, and Al has attended many more years than I have, so I decided to give them a call. I spoke to Kathy, who is so very nice, and knows Al well enough. She took down some information, and is going to try her best to help, but said there was no promises. I can appreciate this. I am just happy that she is making an effort to help us. I wish mom and dad were still here.
Who I am 