Author Archives: J

About J

Just travelling down the highway of life and exploring as much as I can while on this journey.

Kindergarten Memories

My kindergarten teacher was a young woman named Miss Rixford. She was in her early 20’s, and  had long dark hair with bangs. She was pretty, but not gorgeous.  I was just four years old when I arrived in her classroom, something unheard of today.  Other than the brief physical description, I don’t remember much about Miss Rixford, except that she really wasn’t warm and friendly. She was nice, but there was something cool and reserved about her. Whenever I think about her, I always see her in a particular dress that she used to wear. It was green and blue plaid, with overall type straps and she wore a long white sleeved blouse underneath. In hind sight I don’t think she liked kids much or teaching.  Nevertheless, I loved going to school and playing with all the neat stuff, especially, the faux grocery store items and cash register. That was probably the beginning of my serial entrepreneurship. Class was only three or four hours long but we packed a lot of activities into that class time.

My first experience with graham crackers was in kindergarten. Every day, we would get milk and graham crackers as a snack. I always looked forward to snack time because  I liked to eat in class, but I also dreaded it because after snack time it was required that we take a nap. I don’t know how long the naps were but each kid had a towel they would lie down on and sleep. I never slept. I hated naps. I would keep my eyes open and look around at all the other kids who apparently, were napping. Every day it was the same.  Today,  I can’t imagine going through life without a nap every now and then.

I still remember most of the kids names. I was boy crazy even way back then. I had a crush on a boy named Tim. He had dark hair and long eyelashes. I was way too shy back then to be myself. I was also way behind most of the other kids in coordination skills. I could barely hold a pair of scissors to cut paper, let alone draw something decent. But still, I loved all the crafty things I learned. One time we each had a long piece of butcher paper that was bigger than we were and we had to partner up with another kid and trace each other on the paper and then draw in the details of the face, etc. It was fun but very difficult for me.  Another time we had to draw a train and I remember looking at Janine Smith’s drawing and thinking how beautiful and pretty it was. It looked like a real train with gorgeous details of the caboose. Mine, on the other hand barely looked like rectangles and I was embarrassed. How come I couldn’t draw what I was seeing?

Even though I was behind the other kids physically,  I’m pretty sure I was ahead of them mentally. I thought and acted more like a little adult than a kid, but in school, I was too shy and insecure to express my thoughts openly. I rode the bus home everyday. It was bus no. 2 and the bus driver’s name was Mr. Johnson.  He was an older man probably in his late 50’s. He had gray hair, wrinkles, and he wore eye glasses over the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. He was a very sweet man. I just loved him. He knew all the kids names and he made sure that we didn’t get rowdy or disrespectful during the ride to or from school. Every day, I would get dropped off in front of my house at exactly noon. I know the exact time because Perry Mason came on at noon and it was my favorite show.  My mom and I would have lunch and watch Perry Mason together. It was the perfect way to end my school day and begin my day at home with my mom.

Oh. “J” your memories are so clear and crisp.  You were so young to be in school and away from you mother.  My kindergarten memories are very limited and I was nearly a year older when I started.  My birthday is in March so I turned five then started school the next September.  I think my memories really start the next year, from first grade I have many fragmented memories, but kindergarten let me see.  There is a big blank where the teacher should be.  She didn’t make much of an impression on me.  The kindergarten room in Cottonwood Arizona, though, was on the main highway as it wound through downtown.  The road took a sharp turn to the right before entering the one block long central shopping area.  I know this because I have been back to see,  and on that turn was what seemed to me to be a large Baptist church, and back behind the church was a small building that housed the kindergarten.

I wonder now if the kindergarten class was offered as part of the church.  My brothers and sisters and I walked to that church nearly every Sunday morning for Sunday School and church, then walked home for lunch.  Well dinner because it was the only meal we ate on Sundays.  My trip to the kindergarten class, possibly in the afternoon, was by tricycle.  Yes, I rode my tricycle to school when I was five.  We lived on 6th street so I suspect my peddling took me at least 6 blocks.  I would have had to cross at least 5 side streets and I went through the drive through of a gas station.  This is very clear to me.  I may have only done it once and is possible that my mother walked me to school but the memory is only of the tricycle ride through the gas station, across a pedestrian crossing on a bridge, down a ramp and parking in front of the school, and feeling very grown up and full of adventure.

Pulling the memories from my older brain, the only other thing I can remember is putting on blue smocks and finger painting.  Oh what fun, I could get as dirty as I wanted and it was called art.  The memories may be limited but I can still feel the happiness, the feeling of fun.  I even remember lying on my mat and ‘napping’.  As an adult I still love my nap, a quiet time to dream and think and in this case remember.   “GVS”


Making the Plan

Making the Plan.

Wow! I’m receiving the love.


This is amazing.  We got another award.

 Thank you so much soulmetry.  Your poetry is beautiful.  Keep on sharing the passion because your writing touches every soul who reads your words.

 I encourage anyone who stops by to read this entry to please go check out Soulmetry’s blog. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

Now, without further ado….

 I have to tell you 7 things about me.

I hope you all don’t start snoring when you read my list of seven


It’s part of the deal when receiving this lovely award.

1. I co-write this blog with another woman whom I’ve never met. She lives in Brazil and I live in Las Vegas.

2. I owned a Private Investigations Company for seven years.

3. My sister is my best friend. 🙂

4. I love Mexican food and margaritas.

5. Dancing to live bands is the only time I truly feel free.

6. I love to get in the car and just drive and explore.

7.  Photography is my favorite hobby.

I would love to pass this award on to my favorite bloggers.

I am really new to wordpress and I haven’t really explored a whole lot of blogs yet.

However, there are some blogs I’ve been following for a really long time over at blogger and I think they deserve to share in this award.

Alicia over at Titere Con Bonete is my favorite blogger.  She is so talented in her personal storytelling. Her blog is fun and never boring. I just love Alicia because she is so down to earth.

Sandy at Flying WG has been through a lot in the past few years.  She is such a strong person and I am inspired by her. She has touched my soul.

There are so many others that I would like to share this award with but I’m going to limit it to the two above for right now.

If you’d like to check out my other blog which is a huge part of how I express myself you can click here.

My co-blogger’s other blog is a fantastic blog as well.  You can check it out here.

Thank you again, Piare Juden at Soulmetry. I (we) really appreciate this award.

It makes us feel very special.


Sunshine Award

Our blog has been recognized with  the Sunshine Award by fellow blogger, Tim at Timzauto. It is such an honor to receive this award, especially since our blog is so new. When my co-writer and I started this blog, we had no idea that people would actually be reading the entries we wrote. Our intention was to just write something so we could improve upon our writing skills. Although we had no expectations of an audience, it sure is nice getting feedback and we so appreciate the acknowledgement from Tim whose blog is very worthy of reading. So please, go visit him and leave him a comment. He deserves the feedback and acknowledgment too.

The sunshine award  is given to “bloggers who positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere.”  Thanks Tim at timzauto.

The steps to take, preferably with joy 

1. Include the award logo somewhere in your blog. 2. Answer these 10 questions, below, for fun if you want to. 3. Nominate 10 to 12 blogs you enjoy. Or you pick the number. 4. Pay the love forward: Provide your nominee’s link in your post and comment on their blog to let them know they’ve been included and invited to participate. 5. Pay the love back with gratitude and a link to the blogger(s) who nominated you.

The Questions…

What’s your favorite color

I can’t answer for my co-blogger, but my favorite color is green.

What’s your favorite animal

I’m a dog person but I love all animals.

Favorite non alcoholic drink ..

Unsweetened Iced Black Tea.  It’s so refreshing and quenches my thirst.

Facebook or Twitter…

Facebook but I also use twitter.

What’s your Passion..

Dancing, writing, photography and the occult, (clairvoyance, mediumship, astrology, reincarnation) I am fascinated with all of the supernatural subjects.

Whats your favorite pattern..

I don’t really have a specific pattern but I do like geometric shapes.

Do you prefer giving or getting presents..

giving … sometimes too much …

Whats your favorite number


Whats your favorite day of the week ..

I like Friday’s because my husband and I usually go out to dinner and have margaritas

Whats your favorite flower…

I don’t have a favorite flower really but I suppose I like baby roses.

The Nominees: I haven’t spent a lot of time on WordPress yet but the blogs I have discovered thus far are very good, including the person who nominated our blog for the sunshine award, Tim.

1. Soulmetry  I really like this blog a lot and I’m sure you will too. This blogger writes wonderful poetry.

2. stuffredsaid  This blog is the first blog I started following.  I fell in love with his writing style. He’s not afraid to write from his emotions. I think it’s raw, refreshing and passionate.

3. 36 and single  The title says it all and I love reading her dating stories. I’m living vicariously through her experiences. It’s a fun blog to read and I like her bluntness.

Thanks again to Tim for nominating our blog for the sunshine award and thank you so much to all who visit here.  Also, mucho gracias to those of you who write from your heart and share all of your private thoughts for us to read. It’s what inspires me.

Summer Fun

Summer. I not only love that word purely for the way it sounds when it rolls off my tongue, but I love that word because it represents fun. Kids get nearly three months off from school and parents seize this opportunity to take the whole family on extended vacation, provided their jobs allow for lengthy time off. Summer brings people together. The sunshine and the longer days allow for more activity. The parks fill up with families having picnics and barbeques; The lakes are busy with boaters, skiers and campers; Beaches are covered with sunbathers, while the rivers get their fair share of action with kayakers, and white water rafters. Just the thought of all this summer activity awakens my senses. I can hear the children laughing and screaming in delight as I imagine them running around in the park chasing each other with a game of tag. I can hear the hum of the motors and the waves of the water splashing against the boats. I can smell the freshness of the river water, and I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin as I imagine myself lying in the sand on the beach. Yes, summer represents fun and brings about nostalgic longings.

These thoughts and feelings repeat themselves through all countries and cultures, throughout the northern hemisphere and the southern, from north to south, east to west, wherever people have grown up and moved away from their childhoods.  The colors that remind us are different; muted beige of the desert or the aggressive greens of the rain forest and the smells may be of olive trees versus eucalyptus but the feelings that the heat of summer brings are the same the world over.   The same promise of heat saturated, lazy days running barefoot across hot stone.  The anticipation of hot dogs cooked on the grill and iced watermelon giving us feelings reminiscent of youth, this is what summer represents.

Every year when summer arrives it brings with it a sense of renewal. I say renewal because it gives people something to look forward to; A week or two off from the hum drum of their daily lives, a destination to travel to. Although it’s different for each individual, I’m certain that most people look forward to having a little summer fun. How can the sunshine not bring about good feeling? It’s a natural mood enhancer and if you are out in the sun you absorb one of the most important nutrients that your body needs to function properly, Vitamin D.  Dress in sunscreen, get out there in the sun and heat and play.

My Dream World

If the eyes are the mirror to the soul, then dreams must be a conduit to a magical world where the soul dances freely without inhibition. I know through my own experience that dreamland is a stage filled with adventure where my character has a starring role. More often than not, my dreams are full of emotion where I express love and/or receive love from another. They are usually joyous and upon awakening, I linger in bed so that I can savor the images and carry the emotion with me throughout the day. I love the little flashbacks I get when I’m going about my day and I am busy with life. It’s a reminder to smile and feel the love that touched me during sleep.

There are times, however, when the dreams are less joyous and upon awakening, the images hover over me like a dark cloud. They follow me through the years like an obsessive stalker, threatening me, making me fearful that the fantasy will turn to reality. It’s hard to determine whether these dreams are precognitive or if they are just a reflection of my negativity at the time. I’ve had several of these dreams and the images are as vivid as the day I dreamed them. In one such dream, I am in my car, just leaving my office. I am driving across the parking lot and suddenly there is a spray of gunfire coming from various directions. It is the gangs who live in the neighborhood. I am extremely afraid and I duck down in my car, still accellerating on the gas. Then I am floating above and I look downward and I can see myself. I notice that my hair on the back of my head looks all matted and then I realize that I have been shot. I can see the blood and when my spirit realizes I have been shot, I am pulled back into my body. My heart is pounding really hard and it feels like it is going to explode out of my chest. I can’t see where I’m going but I keep thinking that I can make it to the hospital if I just keep going. I’m telling myself to just get out of the parking lot. Then I wake up and I am so sure that it is a warning. This dream caused me to be afraid to go to the office. It got to where I would hardly go in. I started taking all my work home, eventually, moving all of my stuff to my home and then quitting my business altogether. This dream still haunts me today and somewhere deep down inside I am fearful that I am going to be shot in the head either accidentally or by some crazed lunatic seeking a thrill kill.

But then there are the dreams that deliver messages of support and guidance from deceased loved ones. These are the dreams that leave an imprint on my heart and give me comfort when I feel my inner light start to dim. One such dream occurred When my husband and I first moved to Las Vegas. I was an unhappy, lost soul. My marriage was kind of rocky at the time and I felt like a total loser. I didn’t know what to do and I was experiencing such despair and loneliness. I had written in my diary how much I wanted to find a good job, and how much I wished that I could be more ambitious, less insecure, more successful and on and on. I was really having a pity party inside my journal. That night, after writing in my journal, while I lay sleeping, I received a visitor from the other side. It was my Papaw, my favorite person in the whole world and whom I missed so very much. He came to me on the familiar three wheeler that he named putt putt. I hopped on behind him and held onto him as he gave me a ride and we laughed and laughed. I knew he was dead, yet, I didn’t question how it was possible that we were riding around on the motorized three wheeler. In the next scene we are standing. He takes my hand in his and tells me not to worry that everything is going to be all right. I feel extremely sad, because I don’t want him to go and I am aware that he is leaving. Tears stream down my face and he disappears. I awake and I can still feel the flesh of his hand in mine and I know that things are going to be okay. I knew in my soul that it was more than a dream. This isn’t the first time he’s visited me, but as of today, it would be his last. That was almost fourteen years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday. And you know what? He was right. Things turned out very good for me. My life fell into place after that visit. Maybe he didn’t think I needed him anymore and that’s why he hasn’t visited me again. Oh, but how I do still need him to tell me things will be okay.

I recall my dreams quite often. My husband, on the other hand, rarely remembers his at all. He thinks he doesn’t dream but I know better. My favorite dreams have a recurring theme and I’ve been having them for about twelve or thirteen years. I am always happy and in love. Each dream is different but the characters are the same. Sometimes I feel like my real life is trapped inside that dream and the life that the world sees is an imposter. Really, how do we know that life isn’t just one big dream and that reality doesn’t really exist? I know, it’s far fetching but it is food for thought. Anyhow, I’ll end this post now so I can go find my reality in my dreams.

Just Kiss Me

I was twelve years old when I received my first kiss. I didn’t have a boyfriend or anything, but I’ve always been boy crazy. So this first kiss wasn’t planned or expected but surprisingly and awkwardly, good.  It came about one day at a party thrown by three sisters whom I’ve known all of my life. We didn’t live in the same town but my mom drove over an hour so that my sister and I could attend the party. And besides, the mother of the three girls was my mom’s best friend. A win win for the kids and the adults.  I have forgotten many of the details of the party except for what led up to my first kiss.  All of the guests sat on the floor, forming a circle.  Yes, you guessed it. We were playing spin the bottle.  Every time someone spun the bottle and it landed on the opposite sex we had to kiss them.  I’m not sure if my spin landed on him, or if his spin landed on me, but either way, I was very glad it was him. His name is Ron and he is the cousin of the girls having the party, and I have always had a crush on him.  I thought he was very cute. One thing you need to know before I go any further is that I was a very extremely shy young girl. So, imagine how I squirmed inside when it was my turn to kiss a boy. There were some giggles and prompting from everybody to just kiss.  When it finally happened, Ron put his tongue in my mouth, which I was not expecting. It felt kind of funny and part of me was grossed out but another part of me liked it and so I kissed him back with my tongue and even though I was embarrassed, it seemed like we kissed for much longer than necessary. I have never forgotten that kiss and I think it’s why I like kissing so much today.  A kiss is not just a kiss.  It is so much more.

A kiss is so much more than just an expression of passion; a means to express love or a loving act.  There are countless different kinds of kisses, mother to child, husband to wife, friend to friend, pre-sex, post-sex and among different cultures kisses are used for different reasons and occasions.  Lets take Brasil versus the USA, two places I am most familiar with.  In the USA you go to visit your family.  It is the first time you have seen them all in upward of fifteen years.  You walk in the room, say hello to the group, sit down and start talking; it could have been just fifteen minutes since you saw them last and when ready to leave a brief wave and you are out the door.  In Brasil you go to see the family.  You just had dinner with them all last night but as you walk into the room they all stand, you are passed from person to person, a kiss (buss as the British say) is given on each cheek. The 3 or four hours later when leaving the complete process reverses itself.  Some cultures do not kiss as a greeting and in another it is a process to maneuver through whether with family or casual friends. But for women the kiss can still mean more.

For me, a kiss is more meaningful than sexual intercourse.  It is an expression of intimacy that connects you to another person more lovingly.  When two lovers kiss, they are expressing how much attraction they feel for one another. There are many styles of kissing; soft and tender or wet and urgent as an example.   I believe that couples who continue to kiss throughout their marriage maintain a passion that is lacking in so many relationships. So, if you think you don’t have a spark left in your relationship, start kissing your significant other every day.  And I’m not talking about a quick closed mouth peck on the lips or cheeks. I’m talking about open mouth, tongues learning to waltz with each other kind of kissing.  I promise, you will make your partner come to life and have him/her wondering what the hell has gotten into you lately.  It’ll be worth the effort and If I’m wrong, well at least hopefully you had fun trying.  Now go start kissing.

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