UNCONDITIONAL LOVE IS NOT ONE SIDED....

How many times have I spoken of 

"wearing my rose colored glasses"?

More than I dozen I am sure and for whatever 

reason my world is nicer like that.

I have been so busy and can, I think, call myself 

an artist as from the day I painted a painting of 

one of my friends home I have been non-stop in painting

homes. No complaints, honestly, just find myself painting

morning until night.

Wednesday, however I took the morning to attend the

grandgirls Thanksgiving mass where I witnessed the smallest

of good deeds that melted my heart and found me

wiping away a few tears.

Cathy, the grand girls other grandmother (KD's Mom)

struggles with Parkinson's disease.

Cold weather makes it harder for her yet she wanted

to make mass so I scooped her up and we headed 

to St. John mass. Only the Bean is old enough for mass

as the other two rug rats cry when we leave.

Bean is always so conscious of making sure she spreads

her love between her two grandmothers.

I know she is just 7 but she understands, somehow,

that we both adore her.

When it was time for communion, although she will not

make her first communion until Spring, she likes

walking up, hands crossed over her chest, and get

a blessing. She held my hand up and Maw Maw was

in the back. It was a hard day for Maw Maw,

having to use her cane but she made the trek up there.

As I received my host and Bean her blessing,

I continued on but Bean stopped.

It took me a moment to realized what she was doing.

When I did my hear filled with pride for this child.

She let go my hand stopped, right there in front of

the whole congregation while her Maw Maw 

received communion.

Then I realized exactly what her plan, where her actions

were going....

She was waiting for her Maw Maw to help her back to her

seat. Oh, BE STILL ME HEART!

As Maw Maw Cathy walked away from the altar,

cane in hand, Bean held her other hand and walked

slowly with her down the aisle and all the way back

to our pew, made sure she was seated, then took her

place between her two grandmothers.

I bowed my head in prayer to cover my eyes 

that were wet. I don't know what Cathy and I did

to be grandparents to three sweet children but,

in the season of Thanksgiving, I am so very thankful

that our oldest grand girl is filled with the gift

of kindness and giving.

(written with Cathy's permission)                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

MINI’S SURROUND ME...

I bought a refrigerator the other day...

It’s avocado green, cost 22dollars and...

Is 6 inches high.

You can’t store many groceries in it but it is 

Jam-packed with memories!

Yes, it is one I found when Tiffy and I were at the 

Pink Elephant I spotted it and immediately the memories 

Came flooding back. It is the piece that began my love for miniatures. 

I have thought of this piece many times and the rest of the kitchen set

That went with it so you can imagine my excitement over it.

Back in my early years of schooling, when I finally returned

In mid first grade, it was customary at Christmas time

For your parents to send a Small gift to school for the school

Xmas party, Santa would distribute those gifts. 

I remember unwrapping the sweet fridge and thinking 

I had the best gift of all the other children. 

I was not the only one who must have believed this
 as lots of my friends wanted to play with it.

I was not a selfish or mean child but that day I wanted my 

Possession to be only mine. I did not take it out the packaging until I got home. 

It may have had other pieces to it, but I only remember opening it up

And admiring the tiny ice trays and the glass looking ice cubes in it!

From that day one, everything little would infatuate me. 

And that same year, on Christmas morning was the

Sink, stove and dish washer to match!

One of my best gifts of all time. 

A long introduction to the fact that I love miniatures and I adore toys. 

All over my cottage I have mini reproductions of life sized things. 

.I have enough furniture to fill a few dollhouses and even built dollhouses for a while. Matter of fact, one of my reasons for completing my shop was so that I and the

 grandgirls can build a dollhouse together. 

 Friend, Connie, asked me the other day to post pics of my collection

And I had to tell her it is vast and all over my Cottage. 

Soon I will post pics. 

So now I am where I want to be with this blog...

What will happen to all my collections, mini’s being one of many?

I hope they are preserved, loved and added on to by the next owner. 

I cringe when I think of all my treasures being garage sold 

Or thrown out. I have shared this a few times with

Gypsy baby and she has replied the same way each time,

“Biatch, when you die, I’m just moving in my clothes!”

This always makes me laugh and gives me some peace,

Message of today:

Love something that is inanimate, share that with others.

Don’t let it be “off hands”
in that way your love of these objects carry on
the love you have of your people.

I DON’T DO IT FOR THE GLORY

(First excuse any typo’s as doing this on my iPad)

She walks in hot and disheveled. 

She asks for nothing except if the owner of

One of my favorite antique stores would be interested

In some rare, numbered plates. 

I am checking out an old doll refrigerator,

One I had as a kid, same color and all....

She is different from the beggar in the parking lot

Who holds a sign and asks Tiffy and I for money.

At first I am not sure if her identity is male or female

But then she turn to me and she is very female, 

Holding a sweet baby girl in her arms. 

She is a big baby, but her Mother carries her. 

They both are hot and sweaty, the baby not so clean

But definitely loved. 

What makes her different to me than the beggar I just told

“I have no cash”?

Because she is willing to give up something for help,

At first the male owner tells that he has lots of plates. 

As she pulls them out of her back pack, 

I realize she is not going to give up just yet. 

I don’t know her story but I know it’s one of survival. 

I understand survival. 

I open my wallet to pay and I hand her a few bills

Where no one can see. 

She asks “what’s that for?”

I shake my head, turn and continue checking out. 

I try to mind my own business but the owner has seen 

What I have done. He buys the plates. 

As she leaves she tells me in a low voice 

“God bless you”

I say nothing. The owner says to me

“ I was not going to buy those plates but I couldn’t let

You be the only one who helped.” 

I meant to keep this to myself but this morning my thoughts are only

Of this Mother and child. 

I hope they ate
 well last night. 

I hope they had a safe place to lay their head. 

The baby watched me the whole time. I hope as she grows life

Becomes easier for them 

Yet I have great respect for a Mother who carries her baby through

The scorching heat of Louisiana, selling something 

That probably was important to her but not as important as

Her child. I hope one day the Mother tells the child

About the kindness of strangers that was bestowed

To them “ That day”

Some may say I write this for the pat on the back. 

They would be wrong. 

I write this because whatever her story is, if we can,

We should help those who really are trying to help themselves. 

If I can spend two free nights at LeBerge Casino with my niece,

Who is more like my sister, and I can gamble a few

Twenties that I earn by selling my art, I surely can make sure this lil

Family eats. 

I don’t do it for the glory. 

LIBBY AND THE AUDIOBOOK...

If you are a big reader and not a music listener in the car, you have

to get the APP, Libby.

It is literally your library in your hand! 

I always listen to books in the car so this app has changed 

me from having to go to library to get cd books.

You can also read from the app.

Just link all library cards you have and you are there.

Which brings me to this blog....

Yesterday on the way home from the Boo's "La Maison"

(What we call his cottage home he is renting)

I am listening to a book as I always do and a sentence strikes me"

"I smile at my Daddy, the best gift a father can give his girls is worthiness,

that she is enough...."

Wow! It gets me thinking about a lot of things, to the point

that I still am thinking of it this am.

Us Mamma's we have to bring our girls up to be 

strong and independent or this world will eat them up.

But their Daddy's Oh their Daddys!

I think of my own Baby Boy and what he has with his girls.

I think of all the little girls out there without Daddy's.

I have a saying I always used to say,

"the best gift a Father can give to their children is to love their Mother"

So this other saying goes hand in hand with that.

The way a Daddy shows his daughters what they 

are worthy of is to show them how worthy their Mother is.

The old Poem, 

Teach a child....

says so much, so to you new and old Daddy's out there:

and Ange' and Sage, just starting their little family so young.

If you babies see affection between the two of you,

they may roll their eyes, they may be embarrassed but 

they love it. They will think, as I do,

"That is what I want when I grow up."

Save all arguments, disagreements, hostility for privacy.

Of course, it is also good for kid's to see their parents

work out a disagreement, but let them see partnership,

that no one is not more important than the other,

from the Daddy to the Mommy to the littlest of the little.

Worthiness. We all need it.

It is easy to forget the love you shared when the first

baby comes, like Ange' and Sage is feeling right now.

Because life and worries and finances and kids,

well they kind of get in the way.

So, I want to share two things in my own personal life

as to why this sentence hit me so strongly...

First, I was the baby of a large brood, some of my siblings

were already out of the home, my parents rarely showed

affection in front of me, towards the end when my Dad got 

sick he even made Momma cry sometimes, but up until 

the last day he could, every morning, Every morning,

my Momma was greeted with a cup of coffee in bed.

I have always remembered what a show of love from

this man to my Mother.

The second was my personal worthiness to my Daddy.

I may have shared this one before but it is worth restating.

I was teased lots as a child.

First because I was bald after chemo and then for a long

time for the curly mop of a head that replaced the baldness.

The way I dealt with it was I laughed, I laughed with all the

bullies and even friends who laughed or made comments 

about my hair. 

Yet at the end of the day, after the bus dropped me off,

I would go home and cry, not every day but especially the

days when one certain boy thought it was funny to take

his lollipop and smack it in my curly hair to see it stuck.

As I cried my Daddy, in his no nonsense way, would not

hug me or tell me it was okay or want to fight the bullies,

no every day when this event happened he said one sentence,

"Lilly, it does not matter what the World thinks of you, 

because when you come through that door you are loved."

Self confidence was given to me daily from that one sentence.

I believe it is a large part of why I am the confident person I am today.

So Daddy's you have an important job,

Show your children, especially your girls, their worth,

every day. Show them the worth of their mother and that

a family needs every part to be happy and healthy.

Thanks for reading my long thoughts this am.

I treasure all of you who follow me!

I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS KAVANAUGH

I want to first say, as I have so many times before,

I don't know much about politics and I rarely

say anything about these types of things but I know quite a bit 

about life and our past actions.

I have so many confusing thoughts on this whole

episode on Kavanaugh's past.

First that gets me... If I and most of us had to be judged

on things we did in high school most of us would be in court

for some type of stupidity we have done .

My first confusion is why is not some judge throwing 

this out, why is so much time being spent on this?

So many coming forward to slam this man who

all the accusations are from when he was in high school and

college. He has been a judge, a man has done lots good since then.

Many of these women have also said,

"They were inebriated, and they are not sure if Brett K. 

was even the one who exposed himself at these parties which 

all were drunk at. What did they do? I am sure there were

some things they all did they were not proud of.

Shoot, I remember one high school party I had at my sisters

house that I made out with a guy I didn't even know well.

Yet, I am not about to hold accusations against him, I am sure

we both kind of liked it, we were teens with lots of

hormones running through our veins.

My biggest complaint is, why do women

(and please realize this is not a woman bashing blog,

I know how hard it is for some abused women to come out)

wait until a President wants to put this man on his payroll

does this come out. Why, since college, only being what

it seems an upstanding citizen, being prosecuted?

Why in the Clinton Era, he could mess around with young

women, knowing EXACTLY what he was doing

in OUR white house, with his "wife" probably in another room,

not be put in jail or taken out of office and yet this man is

being prosecuted for teenage hormones.

If he drugged them, that is wrong, but where is the proof?

Like a friend of mine said, "What happened to innocent until proven guilty?"

What about this man's wife, his children? Clinton was guilty, GUILTY

proven that way and spent not one day in jail.

I don't know why this piece of news has affected me so much

as usually I don't get involved.....

I think it is not about this man,

it is more about women. The poor women who have really

been abused, raped, mentally abused by the husbands,

those types of women who are afraid to come out and speak

of their abuse. These women, especially the one who started it,

Christine Ford, gets to say when she will testify

" I can't go on a Monday"

"I want a female judge"

lada lada lada

We don't have those rights...

When we have to be in court, even for jury duty we are

told when to be there and added if not there we could be arrested.

I just do not understand the unfairness of all of this and

how our Country is allowing it to happen.

I know I may get lots of back lashing over this one,

I know I don't know all the facts but I have always said,

"If you put something in words, you must stand behind it"

It is why I write so much, because things can't be turned around.

Just had to put this one out there as it has been irritating me for

days and after coffee with a few friends yesterday at the

Cottage, I realize this is the feeling of many....

Remember this is my opinions, my feelings,

I am sticking to it!

                                                                                                                                                                                                           

ITS A MUMSIE POST! BEWARE!!!

It's been a while since I have blogged about my 

Grandgirls! This blog is also used as a journaling technique for

me, soo, get ready a MUMSIE BRAGGING POST!

Our sweet girls, I know some may think we spoil them rotten

(we do) and we think they are perfect ( they are, for us)

yet each one of them brings something different to my life

and there is very little I love more than talking about 

these gals! 

First, this photograph, says so  much!

Kd wanted some Mother/daughter pics and this

one lands up being my favorite, as it shows

just how much that big sis love those little sisters

and how much they lean on her, for a lot.

Jilly, Bean to my blog world is 7 now,

7!!! When did that happen?

She is smart, a teachers dream, strong in body and mind

dramatic, like her Mumsie and vocal on her thoughts (like her Mumsie lol)

She has been chosen, by the St. John high school cheerleaders 

to be their mascot, which means, she performs at every game 

and dresses out with them! Amazing how strong this girls

body is with all that cheering and dance and gymnastics.

Of course, we are proud of all her accomplishments but

the story I choose to share about the Bean is one

that took place a few nights ago when I stayed lil later at her 

home so I could spend some one on one time with her.

As we laid in her bed, watching a You Tube video, 

talking about different things, cuddling,

the time finally came that she had to get to sleep 

and I had to get home. As i was saying good bye

(Consisting of many hugs and kisses and don't leaves)

she announces, "Mumsie I have a question"

You just never know where the Bean's questions will go...

"yes"

"For Christmas, can I have some Mumsie lotion?"

for my whole adult life I have worn Clinique Aromatics lotion.

So much that my kids recognize the smell with me

and the grand girls call it Mumsie lotion.

"Why would you want that for Christmas?"

"Because when you leave here or I leave the cottage,

I can smell you and if I had my own lotion,

I could smell you all the time"

Oh girl, BE STILL MY HEART!

and this is our Bean, tough, dramatic

and yet so very sweet when it counts the most.

(Jilly, cousin Lizzy and JOJO with the wrestling faces on at match)

Then there is our JOJO, oh our sweet, gentle Jo!

It has been a while since I have met a child with

such a gentle spirit, delicate, a dancing queen,

as if there is music, she is dancing.....

She rarely is rude around Mumsie,

which is makes this story I love to share about her

makes it so funny. She is rarely rude.

One day as we are at the cottage,

I tell her to do something and she's says

"Mumsie, you not my boss"

I say "JOJO!" and she says "Mumsie!"

in shock as we both are just that as this is not

JoJO's normal personality.

"I have to sit?"

Which means sitting for the minutes of your age

under the NO WHINING sign at Mumsie's Cottage.

"Yeah, baby, you have to"

She set her timer for 4 minutes and quietly sits

her time out. When her time is up I do what

we are taught to do. I bend down to her eye level,

I look her in the eye, I ask her "Do you know why you

were timed out?" "Yes Ma'am"

"I can't tell grown ups they not the boss, and you are

the boss of this house"

I hug her and tell her I love her and she is such a good little girl.

Then in her JOJO voice, sweet and loving...

"Mumsie?" "Yes jojo?"

"When I grow up, I am going to be mean to you!"

Sweet JOJO 

And then our baby JemJem....

Okay, there is something I have heard all my life,

"She is the baby, and she is spoiled rotten."

I used to overhear this so much

but you  know what, I grew up knowing it was true.

Even now, at 55, let me get sick or need something

and those siblings come a running!

Yet, I still turned out OK, right???

Our JEM JEM, she is the baby.

Maybe we all rocked her a little longer,

gave her what she wanted a little more,

but when it comes to funny, this gal is FUNNY!

She has this raspy, deep voice that in itself,

is funny. Then when she sings, its with

gusto, her eyes close, her little nose wrinkles and

She sings her version of any Disney song or song

her Daddy plays for her. Her words are usually her own

and in that raspy voice, all we can say is,

"Oh JEM JEM that was beautiful!"

And she bows, are says "I'm Jemma"

That is her new thing, no matte`r how many times she sees

us, no matter that we were there the day she was born,

she walks into a home or you walk into hers and she says

proudly, "Hello, I am JEMMA!"

I have been thinking if she does this because people cannot 

seem to get her name right or because her and JOJO,

only 14 months apart and about the same size.

However, while you can blow on JOJO and knock her over,

this little Lady is solid.

She loves her Mommy and Daddy, and her Maw Maw

seems to be her favorite grandparent.

But to see this girl with her Momma is

so sweet, makes you feel like you have to look away

as her love is so full of emotion.

The other day, her Mommy comes to pick her up from the cottage,

she screams, "Mommy! Mommy is here!"

KD walks in and picks her up and as KD and I are talking,

Kd says "Look at this kid?"

The whole time JemJem is staring at her eyes,

hands on each side of her Mom's face, caressing her Mommy's face.

Will not stop staring at her,

That my friends, is pure unconditional love!

These pictures, they are our JemJem.

You will know her when you see her with the Triple J's

(What they call themselves)

While she is not always happy, has a tad of a temper...lol

Always posing for the camera and if that does not give

her identity  a clue for you, she will be the one

screaming, demanding acknowledgement,

"HELLO, I AM JEMMA!"

SEPTEMBER, CHILDHOOD CANCER AWARENESS

Every year, in September, I make some type of post 

or blog on childhood cancer awareness.

Each year I think, "No one wants to hear this story again..."

Then today, I get my St. Jude Calendar in and am reminded

that if we don't talk about it, then donations stop.

So here I go, my yearly pledge to try and end childhood cancer.

1968, No internet, no facebook, no Go Fund Me accounts,

only one little girl, 5 years old born the baby of a large 

family and older parents. 

That day, everyone in my family has a different memory

and of course the stories I have been told through the years.

Five years old with an incurable, rare kidney cancer, Wilms' Tumor.

Funny as now this type of cancer is 90% curable but there

are still those who die from it.

I remember that something was wrong, and I was afraid

as I had never seen my Daddy cry, I remember

being told that instead of staying in Raceland we

were going to go to a bigger hospital in New Orleans.

I remember my Daddy tying a white handkerchief

to the antenna of the car, which was emergency protocol

back then. I was sick, I knew in my body I was very sick,

but my thought are only that of a 5 year old.

I remember thinking maybe I would die as my grandmother

had died just weeks before and I had recently learned

"you go away and you don't come back"

I can't remember pain, only fear.

Fear of the unknown remains my worst one.

WE  got to the big hospital of Touro and my Dad's sister

was there, Aunt GAGald, who lived in Chalmette.

Lots of chaos ensued until this one man walked

into my life. Dr. Fisherman.... What a doctor, what a man...

I was told later, as a teen that he had told my parents 

he had seen 10 cases of this type of cancer before and  none had

survived the 5 year survival mark.

My parents had not much, the hospital did not accept the 

Champus insurance my Dad had from the Military

but this man said, "Sign her over to me and I will never send you

a bill" They signed that paper and he never billed them.

In1968, there were no laws on how much radiation or chemo.

you could receive, this smart doctor had been following

procedures being done in other parts of the world that showed

more promise than the US treatment. I thank the Big Man

often for the fact that I was not diagnosed in 1969, when

the US banned how much radiation that could be used.

I may not be here today had it turned that way.

Dr. Fisherman tried radiation prior to and after surgery

and I and my family all believe that was the reason

I survived this cancer.

Yet, let me take myself and my readers back to the day

of surgery...

After 6 weeks of radiation where a 5 year old child was

told, do not move, not an inch, your Mom or dad will be

looking through that little glass window. I kept my

eyes focused on that little window and one of them were 

always there.

Then the day of surgery, I remember the baby bed being

wheeled to the big doors but I was not in it, I was

crying in my Mothers arms. I was a little thing, only

35 pounds at 5. I was screaming, my Mom was crying

and so was all the entourage that followed us to the

surgery suite that I called my family.

Finally it was time, time to let go of my Mother....

I had to be pried off of her, I don't know who was

holding on more, me or my Momma.

But I remember the words of this very kind surgical nurse,

she told my Momma, 

"I promise you, I will not put her down until she is asleep"

I looked into my mom's face who was staring at this nurse,

tears streaming down her face, nodding her head yes as 

she handed me over and I remember becoming calm then.

I remember the surgery suite and things that were being said

around me. I had a high fever and someone said

"we cannot put her to sleep like that"

I remained in the arms of that same nurse as she sat

on the surgery bed holding me.

Someone said to her,

"You have to put her down so we can prepare her"

and this nurse, wisely said,

"I promised her Mother I would not put her down until she

was asleep and I will not"

Then I remember the mask of ether ( I can still taste that stuff)

and I was out. 

I awakened to more strangers and pain and Dr. Fisherman.

Soon my family was around me and all was right in my world.

I could go on and on with so many things that happened in my

childhood related to this cancer. I keep saying I am working 

on my book, I know there is a book of my life that needs to be

written. Yet this is a blog and it has gone on long enough.

My story is one of so many other children past and present,

alive and passed, some similar some so very different.

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness.

We have access to so much social media...

Donate in the name of a child who suffers from cancer,

donate in the name of my miracle,

Just don't forget that no matter how advanced treatment becomes

children and adults still die from cancer daily.

Thanks for reading a small part of my very long life.

Not a day goes by that I am not thankful for this life.