What Was That?

There is a perfect brown leaf blowing in front of you. Or maybe it is a nice scrap of paper. Or an empty can. What is it? It could be a fairy.

You hear an acorn falling on the roof. Or maybe a pebble hops up off the road for no apparent reason. Or a pop in the bark of the tree by your ear.  It could be a fairy.

Fairies hide behind commonplace things so we cannot see them.

A fairy is thought to be a tiny winged human-like creature. While we usually think of them as being female there are also males. They do need to perpetuate their species. Oh and they are magical beings.

There are many types of fairy. Dryad, troopers, and nymphs are but a few. Some attach themselves to things like trees. Some are warriors who fight wars. Some have trades to benefit humans like making shoes. Some are devoted to making mischief. 

There are changelings who take over a human body and live that human's life. Babies are especially vulnerable to changelings.  

Anyway fairies are all around us. We simply have to be observant enough to see them.

Spoiled

 I happily admit that I was a pampered child. My mother's family had two older babies and another was born 6 weeks after I was. But all of them were half a country away. I got all the attention that would have been shared by 4 of us.

My grandmother had small children as was common then. My youngest uncle is 3 years older than me. Even so all the aunts and uncles even the little one treated me like the most important thing in the world. Grandma and Grandpa doted on me like grandparents will do.

During World War II when my father was in the Navy, he bought kimonos for his wife and daughter. He did not even know my mother then. I was that daughter so I have always felt special because I was What Daddy wanted.

My parents were there for all of us which made us all feel so secure. We had love and attention.

One of Mom's older sisters was married. She and her husband wanted a baby but it just was not happening. So I filled an empty spot in their lives. And I loved it. 

I spent many weekends with them. I had special meals. We did fun activities. There was even a box full of toys. My favorite was a toy telephone. I remember it well.

As a quick side note my aunt had her first baby the same year I had my first baby. Life is good.

Grandpa's brother and his wife also spoiled me. We called them Uncle and Aunt. She spent the school year away because she was a teacher at a public school on one of the Indian Reservations. Still I was treated to movies and treats. 

During the summer I would sometimes stay with them. My aunt worried about me for what I thought were silly things. I slept on the couch. She would line up chairs by the couch to keep me from falling. I was around 8 years old for goodness sake.

My uncle would take me with him when they cut the hay. He never did any of the work. He hired others to do it. It was fun to watch.

Then when the cut hay dried it was time to build the stacks. My uncle hired Indians from the local tribe for that job. I was fascinated listening to them talking to each other in their native language. I am sure they were talking about how cheap my uncle was.

These are only a few of the people who made me feel special. I am happy. 

Sew Sew

 I do not sew. When I was a child my mother taught me to do embroidery which I also cannot do.

We had a sewing machine. It was the old kind operated by a treadle made by pumping it with your feet. I often used it to repair clothing. 

I also attempted to make clothes using it. I would be pumping the treadle and picking up a little speed when suddenly I made a mistake. I am naturally a calm and collected person. But I have been known to throw a tantrum and rip the cloth from the machine. The needle attached to the machine would come with it.

At school the 7th grade girls were required to take one semester of home economics. We learned to wash our hair, change our underwear daily, and arrange cut flowers. They also taught us to make a cake from scratch. Then we had to make a skirt.

The pattern for the skirt was simple. We cut a circle from our material then made a waist with a zipper.

 When I finished by hemming the skirt one side was at my ankle. The other side was just below my hip. How did that happen?

My 3 sons and my daughter all take care of mending their own clothes. My stitches do not hold. 

My mother, both of my sisters, and my daughter could all sew. It is not fair. But I am really good at changing my underwear.

Controversy

You may have noticed that I have not posted political subjects. That is on purpose. I do not want to insult anyone but my political feelings are none of your business.

I do have strong political convictions. I have participated in many local elections. I have demonstrated, conducted telephone polls, rung doorbells and of course I always vote. I have since I was old enough.

I am registered with a political party. However I do not necessarily vote the party line. I vote for the person I feel is the one who will try to accomplish the things I believe in. I have voted for members of the other party if I feel they are best qualified for the job.

Now I hear people saying that I should vote against a candidate that these people do not like. I never ever vote against someone. I only vote FOR people. If they are not what I wish for a particular position I will vote for a candidate who meets my criteria.

There is no person in this wonderful world with whom I agree all the time. I have my own mind and my own desires for this country. Yours may differ from mine. We are both entitled to our opinions. As long as you do not try to bulldoze me into agreeing with you we will get along.

I am happy to have pleasant debate about issues. A person may even cause me to change my mind. But force will not do it. Intellect might.

I tried to raise my children to think for themselves. I believe I was successful. Some of them have completely opposite views to mine.

As long as they have done their research and know what the candidates stand for that is fine with me.

Down

My brother-in-law and sister-in-law lived in a two-story house with a basement. In the basement was the washer and dryer. The bathroom was on the second floor.

The house was designed so a person would not have to carry dirty laundry to the basement from upstairs. There was a laundry chute in the bathroom. Dirty clothes were dropped into the chute upstairs into a bin in the basement. Easy to do.

At that time they had three children, two boys and a girl. All three of them were overly 'adventurous'.  It seemed they were always into something they should not have been. Perhaps my niece was worst of all.

One day she decided to take a trip down the laundry chute. She was small so there was little danger of her getting stuck. She did not.

However the chute was not smoothly finished. After all who would see it?

As my niece fell down the chute she discovered that although there were no nails sticking out to snag the clothes the ends of the nails were right at the surface. They took no pity on a little girl. And the wood was not smooth.

By the time my niece landed in the bin she was screaming in pain. No bones were broken. But she was covered and I do mean covered.in small cuts and scrapes. 

Needless to say she only put clothes in the chute after that.

Magic

 Do you believe in magic? Most people would say no. I believe.

When I am out for a drive to the top of a hill and see all the scenery I gasp. I can see farms, animals, and fields. Occasionally I see a stand of trees or a river. It is beautiful. It is magical. 

The tinkle of a toddler's laugh makes everyone laugh too. That is magic.

The clean sweet smell of a baby after its bath is magic.

Seeing a tree full of migrating birds stopping to rest is magic.

One day I watched thousands of little ants scurrying to some destination. I was fascinated. It was magic.

In the spring lilac bushes, jasmine, and honeysuckle magically fill the air with their lovely scents. Dandelions, crocus, and violets peep up to cover the ground with colors of magic. 

Fruit trees leafing then blooming are magic. Those blossoms becoming fruit that we can eat is magic.

Seeing a small herd of deer fills me with wonder. Seeing a flock of wild turkeys fills me with fascination. Seeing a herd of buffalo fills me with awe. I am in the presence of magic.

Snow and ice in the winter are magic. Special magic is reserved for a hoar frost. Everything looks like it has been covered in powdered sugar.

Even the occasional garden snake I find coiled in my yard is a magical creature. How do snakes move simply by wiggling?

Brussels sprouts. They taste so good. Along with other vegetables they magically nourish us.

Computers were science fiction when I was a child. Their magic is such that almost every home is now online.

Grass magically grows during the summer. It is enough that people mow their lawns every week.

Have you ever seen the wind blow so hard that trees bend over double? After the storm there stands the tree tall and proud. Magic.

I once saw a triple rainbow. My son took pictures of it. That is magic.

Mother and child. Father and child. Man and woman. Any two people who love each other are creating magic.

The fact that you are reading this is magic. I guess you believe too.

Tell Me A Story

Before humans had organized methods of writing there were storytellers. Depending on the culture they had different names. The Irish and Scots had The Seanachaidh. In India there were The Kathakar. The Skald told the tales of Norway and Iceland.

The storytellers of the area around Turkey and Iran were called The Ashik. In Japan there were The Hanashila. Central Europe relied on The Minstrels for their stories. The Griot told stories in Western Africa.

In Hawaii a person would tell the moʻolelo. Chants and hulas also convey the history of the islands. Native American tribes relied on the storytellers to keep their traditions.

Every culture had storytellers. They were necessary for members to learn their history. Of course there were often exaggerations. These built the heroes memories and gave birth to myths associated with each culture. The storytellers were honored and treated with reverence.

The Irish say that to know who you are you must first know who you come from. I believe that to be true. We are not all descended from royalty or great warriors but our ancestors were important. Without them we would not exist.

When I was a little girl I would quietly sit and listen to the adults telling stories of my ancestors. It was not only great fun but also I learned who I came from.

There are probably storytellers in your family...usually more than one. Learn from them. They are keeping your history alive.