Wednesday, August 29, 2012

One Proud Mama


Aug 29, '12 10:37 PM
for everyone

 

I am one proud Mama. My daughter, Tamara, is now FEMA certified. She sent me this photo in a text a few minutes ago. All she’s wanted to do, since she was 14 years old is become a paramedic and to help people. She’s chasing her dreams hard and they’re coming to life…..

 

One Proud Mama

 

I am one proud Mama.  My daughter, Tamara, is now FEMA certified.  She sent me this photo in a text a few minutes ago.  All she’s wanted to do, since she was 14 years old is become a paramedic and to help people.  She’s chasing her dreams hard and they’re coming to life…..
 

Picture Perfect Double Whammy

Here Comes the Bride

August 28, 1965
December 11, 2009



My post this week is in memory of my sister-in-law and dear friend……Mitzi Lynn Hudson. I took this photo the day she and my brother were married. Yesterday was her birthday. Clyde and Mitzi had been together for many years. They, like most couples, had their share of ups and downs. They were separated for a time, but eventually, found their way back to each other. They were married on Friday the 13th. This was just like Mitzi. I spent that whole week with her running around….preparing and dodging obstacles. Mitzi was diagnosed with Cancer before their first wedding anniversary.
While I was with her that week, she kept talking about a knot on her head. She was trying to cover it with her hair. At the time, we didn’t know it was a tumor. She was sick then. I’m so thankful I had that time with her. We created more memories to share.
Morticia and I went to Ga. To see her while she was in the hospital. As sick as she was, she was still Mitzi. I walked in during one of the visits and told her I had drove thru Tallahassee…..she raised her head, attempted to look out the window and said “I don’t hear any helicopters.” That was Mitzi….


.
 
 
http://thatswhenwesnapped.blogspot.com/2012/08/picture-perfect-double-whammy.html

Picture Perfect Double Whammy

 
Here Comes the Bride
 

August 28, 1965
December 11, 2009

 

My post this week is in memory of my sister-in-law and dear friend……Mitzi Lynn Hudson.  I took this photo the day she and my brother were married.  Yesterday was her birthday.  Clyde and Mitzi had been together for many years.  They, like most couples, had their share of ups and downs.  They were separated for a time, but eventually, found their way back to each other.  They were married on Friday the 13th.  This was just like Mitzi.  I spent that whole week with her running around….preparing and dodging obstacles.  Mitzi was diagnosed with Cancer before their first wedding anniversary. 
While I was with her that week, she kept talking about a knot on her head.  She was trying to cover it with her hair.  At the time, we didn’t know it was a tumor.  She was sick then.  I’m so thankful I had that time with her.  We created more memories to share. 
Morticia and I went to Ga. To see her while she was in the hospital.  As sick as she was, she was still Mitzi.  I walked in during one of the visits and told her I had drove thru Tallahassee…..she raised her head, attempted to look out the window and said “I don’t hear any helicopters.”  That was Mitzi….


.



 
 

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Shared with me by my friend Victor Torres CSI Scotland County


This story came to me in an email.  I don’t usually copy and paste emails, but this should be shared.  It had me in tears.

IT'S WHAT YOU SCATTER

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes... I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.


Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.


'Hello Barry, how are you today?'


'H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good'


'They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?'

'Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time.'
'Good. Anything I can help you with?'
'No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas.'
'Would you like to take some home?' asked Mr. Miller.

'No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with.'

'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?'

'All I got's my prize marble here.'


'Is that right? Let me see it', said Miller.


'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.'


'I can see that. Hmm mmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?' the store owner asked.


'Not zackley but almost.'

'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.

'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'



Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.

With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever.


When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.'


I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.


Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.


Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket.


Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one; each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.


Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.

They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt.'


'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho ...'


With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral:
We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Finally...days end




Finally, this day has come to an end.  It was a slow day, but filled with fires to put out.

Do you remember, when you were young, or younger, thinking and dreaming about what you wanted to be when you grew up?  Restaurant Manager was never on my list.  This whole thing started as a part time job to make a little extra money and now….I’m running the place.  It takes up all of my time and my life.  Just ask Baz….LOL  He’s seen it firsthand.  So has Rita.

I had a lot of different dreams growing up.  I wanted to be a writer, a librarian, a teacher, and even a secretary.  And of course, a photographer.

All my life, I’ve surrounded myself with books.  One of my earliest memories is of me sitting behind my Daddy’s chair with a stack of Dr. Seuss books.  I think I was around five years old.  Going to the library was always exciting to me.  All those books, all those stories…all those places that I could visit inside those pages.  I would walk down the aisle, running my hand along the books, completely captivated and immensely happy.

I guess that’s why English and Literature were always my best subjects in school.  I used to love to diagram sentences.  I’m not sure I could do it now, but then I loved it and it was one of the few things I excelled at. 

I am still surrounded by books.  I have books everywhere.  Every so often, I give them away to others that love to read, and then find myself filling up every nook and cranny again.  I have books on photography, books from school, books of photographs, books of artworks by some of my favorite artist, and then there’s the escape books….LOL.  I have lots of Nora Roberts, Karen Hawkins and many others.

Maybe that’s why I love blogging so much.  I can find all of my favorite things in one place.  I’ve also made many wonderful friends along the way.

 

Finally...

 

Finally, this day has come to an end.  It was a slow day, but filled with fires to put out.

Do you remember, when you were young, or younger, thinking and dreaming about what you wanted to be when you grew up?  Restaurant Manager was never on my list.  This whole thing started as a part time job to make a little extra money and now….I’m running the place.  It takes up all of my time and my life.  Just ask Baz….LOL  He’s seen it firsthand.  So has Rita.

I had a lot of different dreams growing up.  I wanted to be a writer, a librarian, a teacher, and even a secretary.  And of course, a photographer.

All my life, I’ve surrounded myself with books.  One of my earliest memories is of me sitting behind my Daddy’s chair with a stack of Dr. Seuss books.  I think I was around five years old.  Going to the library was always exciting to me.  All those books, all those stories…all those places that I could visit inside those pages.  I would walk down the aisle, running my hand along the books, completely captivated and immensely happy.

I guess that’s why English and Literature were always my best subjects in school.  I used to love to diagram sentences.  I’m not sure I could do it now, but then I loved it and it was one of the few things I excelled at. 

I am still surrounded by books.  I have books everywhere.  Every so often, I give them away to others that love to read, and then find myself filling up every nook and cranny again.  I have books on photography, books from school, books of photographs, books of artworks by some of my favorite artist, and then there’s the escape books….LOL.  I have lots of Nora Roberts, Karen Hawkins and many others.

Maybe that’s why I love blogging so much.  I can find all of my favorite things in one place.  I’ve also made many wonderful friends along the way.

 

 

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Meme's Books of Love






Blog EntryDec 22, '09 9:33 PM
for everyone
Lined along these shelves are Meme's books of love. Each one has a name on it. A son or daughter, grandchild, even great grandchildren. They're filled with pictures. Pictures that tell the story of our lives.
Meme has spent many years....lots of hours...working on these books. A lot of love and time have gone into them.
In the above photo, My Aunt Flora, sister Emily, and nieces, Brooke and Amy. They're looking through books that Meme has put together. I spent time myself looking through them.
In my book, were pictures I had forgotten about. Pictures from many years ago. Different family gatherings and even a family shot before I was divorced. In my daughters books, they're were pictures from the time they were very young until now. Pictures of the Grandmonsters. I smiled the whole time I was looking at them and knew then, I would write this blog.
There was also books full of pictures I had taken, of family gatherings here. I was surprised to see them but, happy too. Knowing that she was using the pictures I had taken for her books of love made it all worth while. From now on when I take them, I'll smile thinking of her and her books.
Here she is at her desk. This is where she spends countless hours working on her books of love. Everything is very organized. The drawers filled with paper, ink and all the things she uses here.
What I don't have a picture of, are the two books she had tucked away here at her desk. These books had my name on them. Inside were my blogs. She had printed them out and saved them. She handed me the books and didn't say anything. I was so surprised. She had stories that I had written. Poems....so many of the post I've done. I was so touched by this. And so filled with the love she put inside these books.
To Meme:
I love you!!!! I know you don't get to spend much time with my grandmonsters but, I promise you they will know how much love and time you put into these books. And when the time comes, I'll continue Meme's books of love and one day, they will too.

The Red Glider 3/24/2010

Mar 24, '10 8:35 PM
for everyone
What do you all see when you look at this picture? Two beautiful little boys? An old red porch glider? Now, Let me tell you what I see.
I see many Sundays. I see my Granny and her sisters and friends. I see many bushels of shelled peas and butter beans. My Granny and I sitting there talking about nothing and everything. My cousins....a porch filled with laughter. My Dad with his Mama....My Aunts. Even my daughters.
You see, this was my Granny's porch glider. It was on her porch for as long as I can remember. This glider is full of memories. It wasn't originally red. General Lee and yes that was really his name, painted it red. I think he liked red because he painted everything red. General Lee was my Granny's husband. When they married and moved to his place, the glider went too.
Even after Granny moved I remember sitting there with her on an afternoon. This glider has seen lots of good ole days.
General Lee passed on shortly after my Granny. The glider has been at his old place since then. Recently, his daughter Carolyn sent word to me that I could have it. Not having a truck, I was in a bit of a dilemma but, my cousin came to the rescue. I have such great cousins. Cecil went to pick it up and had it on my porch when I can home from work.

This is Cousin Cecil with Tyler. He was my hero for the day!!! After all this time, I finally had my Granny's porch glider.
When Tyler and I pulled up at the house yesterday, I told him that it had been my Granny's and that I used to sit with her on the porch in it. He got out of the car, went up the steps and sat in
Granny's glider. He turned those beautiful brown eyes of his up to me and said "Granny are you gonna sit with me?"
Now this glider will see another Hudson generation or two. There will be many more memories to come.

Just playing....wanted to see if it would copy.

You Are A Rowan Tree
You are full of charm and cheer. You light up a room.
And while you crave attention, you do it without ego.
You are an interesting mix of contradictions - and very unpredictable.
You are both dependent and independent, calm and restless.
You are passionate, emotional, gregarious, and (at times) unforgiving.

What's Your Celtic Horoscope?

8/25/2012


In the shadows

Unnoticed, alone

Waiting, watching

for the unknown

relief and sadness within

what's wanted

what's feared

the beginning or the end

tears hidden deep inside

not to be seen

obscured by pride

a solitary dance

content and free

strength and hope

gifts to me

8/17/2008

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Picture Perfect...Heart of the Matter

Shot taken at Bonaventure during our adventure wtih Gator


http://fotofriday.multiply.com/journal/item/566/Picture-Perfect-Summer-Competition-2012-Week-Seven-The-HEART-of-the-Matter?replies_read=11

In Dreams of a Memory


The ghost of things to come

Riding across the winds

Calling out to her

In dreams of a memory

 

Lying upon the sand

Sea caressing her skin

She can feel his touch

Hear his voice

In dreams of a memory

 

The tides roll out

She softly speaks his name

As the tears roll down her face

In dreams of a memory
 
 
L. Hudson  2006

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Creative Challenge 218 HOt


The fire burned hot in colors of red and gold.  Flowing like an elegant ballet. The movement slow and graceful.  Sometimes, entwined, sometimes standing alone.   Much like the memories buried deep within.   Its warmth left coldness, as each flame reflected thoughts of another time.  A voice that gave comfort, but was full of betrayal and deceit, a heart given only to be returned shattered.  A love lost in the illusion of something that never was.

Morning....




Morning has arrived.  At the moment, all is quiet and serene.  Only the occasional sound of a car or the song of a bird is heard.  Outside is a soft grey.   A comfort in its own way.  I love this time.  The calm before the storm, as I mentally prepare myself for the chaos of the work day.

This should be my day off, but my assistant has jury duty.  I should be with Morticia at the Hill, but that’s life I guess, full of duty and responsibility.  Hopefully, I won’t be there long.

I’ve been going through blogs.  I went back to the first blog.  There are so many memories here.  Many people have come and gone.  Some of the comments bring sadness.  Words that were left by my Dad and Mitzi.  I know I can’t bring all that with me, but in a way, it feels like I’m losing them all over again.  Maybe this will be a chance to heal.  Something I really haven’t done, but that’s another blog for another day.

I have decided that all blogs will be written in Word, then copy and pasted wherever I land, which looks to be blogger.  I’m not really comfortable there, but I wasn’t at Multiply in the beginning.  I do know there are friends that I just do not want to lose touch with.  If that means two blogs, then so be it.  Hopefully, I can keep up.  I also have new friends that I want to continue to get to know, KK, Sioux…. (hope I spelled that right.)

Dani’s theme for Creative Challenge this week is “Hot.”  I haven’t participated in a very long time, but I have a few words floating around in my head.  Maybe, I can bring them out.  I can see the pictures in my head.  Now, if I can just convert them to words.

And, with the slam of a door, and the sound of my Grandmonster Matthew on his way to school, I guess I’ll begin the day.



Y’all take care and have a great day.

Morning....

 

Morning has arrived.  At the moment, all is quiet and serene.  Only the occasional sound of a car or the song of a bird is heard.  Outside is a soft grey.   A comfort in its own way.  I love this time.  The calm before the storm, as I mentally prepare myself for the chaos of the work day.

This should be my day off, but my assistant has jury duty.  I should be with Morticia at the Hill, but that’s life I guess, full of duty and responsibility.  Hopefully,  I won’t be there long.

I’ve been going through blogs.  I went back to the first blog.  There are so many memories here.  Many people have come and gone.  Some of the comments bring sadness.  Words that were left by my Dad and Mitzi.  I know I cant bring all that with me, but in a way, it feels like I’m losing them all over again.  Maybe this will be a chance to heal.  Something I really haven’t done, but that’s another blog for another day.

I have decided that all blogs will be written in Word, then copy and pasted wherever I land, which looks to be blogger.  I’m not really comfortable there, but I wasn’t at Multiply in the beginning.  I do know there are friends that I just do not want to lose touch with.  If that means two blogs, then so be it.  Hopefully, I can keep up.  I, also have new friends that I want to continue to get to know, KK, Souix….(hope I spelled that right.)

Dani’s theme for Creative Challenge this week is “Hot.”  I haven’t participated in a very long time, but I have a few words floating around in my head.  Maybe, I can bring them out.  I can see the pictures in my head.  Now, if I can just convert them to words.

And, with the slam of a door, and the sound of my Grandmonster Matthew on his way to school, I guess I’ll begin the day.

Y’all take care and have a great day.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

8/19/2012


Soaring above the cliffs

On the wings of hope

The river sings

The hills stand statuesque

Shrouded in the mist

Beauty raises her head

And a new day has begun

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Doors



Artist Unknown


Written May 2008




Doors


As she walked through the door, she thought of the many times, she had passed it by. The old, abandoned farm house. It was separated from the highway, by a field. It's own small forrest behind it. A peaceful place that seemed to belong to a time and place of it's own.


She walked through a door that must have been, at one time, a parlor. The room, like the rest of the house, was empty except, for a painting that was covered by a black drape.


Slowly, she pulled the cloth aside. Her breath caught in her throat. It was a portrait of a man. Dressed in the era of 100 years ago. He wore a silver medallion that read "Destiny". His hair as black as night. His eyes, the deepest blue she had ever seen. Eyes that seemed to be looking into the deepest parts of her. Eyes full of knowledge, strength and passion.


Mesmerized, by a man, she had never known that must have lived here many years ago, she wondered who he was. What kind of man had he been? Who had put that look of passion in his eyes? Why was she so affected by it?


She turned away to explore the rest of the house. So many rooms. So many open doors. All but one.


As she approached the door, her vision began to blur. Slowly the house began to change. No longer empty. She could hear voices. She could smell flowers in the hallway. There were beautiful rugs on the floors.


The visions didn't scare her. She had had them before. What bothered her was the crying she could hear behind the closed door.


As she opened the door, her hands began to tremble. She was consumed by the sadness coming from within.


Inside lay a man. A bright red stain across his chest. Blood, from a gun shot wound. The silver medallion stood out against it. He lay lifeless. The man in the portrait.


By his side was a woman. Her own tears began to fall as she watched her. She could feel the woman's agony. Her emptiness and despair. The horrible sense of loss.


The woman raised her tear streaked face. The air ceased to move. Her head began to spin. She was drifting into darkness. The face she had looked into.....was her own.


To be cont. at a later date in time. LOL




So, there ya go. My pitiful attempt at writing a story. LOL I can see it unfold in my head. Just have a hard time putting it into words.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Poem...written May 2011

Truth hidden

behind a haze of false calm

unclear, unseen

desparate, alone

in a sea of choice

what is needed passed by

the petals fall

escape comes only from within

Picture Perfect......Dirty

 
With three Grandmonsters....there's always "Dirty."  LOL  They made bird houses and ahhhhh.... painted them that day.
 

Monday, August 13, 2012

Pride And Prejudice - Faraway Nickle Back



Facets

Frank Licsko


Facets-any of the definable aspects that make up a subject (as of contemplation) or an object (as of consideration)
It seems to me that the facets of our lives are comprised of many things. They shape and mold us into the people we are. We have the times that are full of happiness and joy. Memories of family and friends. Some of which, are in our lives for only a short time but, leave us with so much.
There are the times of sorrow and adversity. Times that are filled with fear and uncertainty. I think these are the times that we grow and learn the most. Heart break and betrayal that fills us with doubt, not only about others but about ourselves. The journey back up is not always easy when we've been knocked down by the events in our lives.
I think the most important facet in our lives is Love. The ability not only to give love but to recieve it. My life is filled with Love. The love of my family and friends. My daughters and my grandsons. This is what I reach for in the difficult times of my life. This is what gives me the strength to pull myself back up or to stand strong when I'm needed by others.
Even with the rough times in my life, I have truely been blessed with what I have been given. 

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Modern Day Scarletts



Scarlett O'Hara...My Heroine.....

To many I guess she would seem a spoiled brat...but what she was...

A young girl raised to believe that the most important thing in her life was to be married. She was trained from birth to be a wife, manage a household and raise children....Nothing in her life was to be more important than that..but she had spirit.

During and after the war, her Southern Belle training didn't help her but the spirit she had did. She took care of family, friends and even the wife of the man she thought she loved...How many of us would do that?

She did what she had to do to survive and to provide for the others in her care. She worked in fields, she took a small general store and turned it into a thriving lumber business. Okay, she stole her sisters beau but, this too she did to save Tara and to provide for the others. (Don't know if I would go that far. My sister has had some strange beau's).

At times she seemed cold and uncaring but if we had to do this how would we behave? Sometimes to deal with life we have to shut down and just face the situation.

Many things have changed over the years but, many things have not. We are conditioned from birth, especially Southern Woman, that finding a husband, having a family and caring for a home are our main objectives....but.....

A lot of woman these days are raising their children as single parents. Many with little or no help. (In my case, I always did it on my own...) We work and do what we have to do to provide for them. To get them through school, first loves, first heartbreaks and so many other things.

We do have something women in those days didn't. A chance for an education. Even this is sometimes put on the back burner. But, I believe we are never too old to learn. To go back to school. I have many friends now that are doing just this.

There are many women out there that are physically or emtionally abused. Both are hard to overcome. I've had experience with both. But with the strength and spirit inside us...we go on.

This is a subject that really pisses me off. I can't stand to see a woman with a black eye or one that has been beaten down with harsh words. Told over and over again how worthless she is, to the point that she believes it. Sometimes she needs a helping hand to find her way out of the situation. I have a friend who has done just that recently. She reached out and already she can see the difference in her friend.

As women today...We do not "NEED" a man to survive. Neither did Scarlett.

We tend to get knocked down many times along the way. Life deals us some hard and painful blows. We just stand back up. Modern Day Scarletts....

After all...."Tomorrow Is Another Day"....



I wish I had a picture of my cousin Mia on here. She looked just like this Chic...

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Blue was not the color

playing around..

The new and the old.

I feel like I'm a teenager again and walking into a new school.  It's a little scary and I miss my old friends already.  A few are here, but many are missing.

Moni mentioned, in a conversation today that we all made it from 360, so we'll make it here.  I hope so.  I do know that PP is here, so I want to be here too.

I've played around a bit today with blogger.  It's still very confusing, but Multiply was too in the beginning.  Somehow, I've got two blogs and I'm hooked to Google+.  Hopefully, I can figure out how to correct all that.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Okay, guess this is my first blog here.  Now, How do I add all of you.   YUK....hate these changes.