Beautiful Old Broads enjoy summer

Hello dear ones,

This will be my last blog post for the summer.  I started this blog 18 months ago and have posted most every Friday...unless life interfered.  So I'm going to take a break from writing the blog but I love doing it and plan to start writing it again in the fall.  I've enjoyed all your feedback and thank you for taking precious time from your day to read it. I'll leave you with a poem that I posted a few months back.  Much to my surprise it won third place in a little library writing contest I entered. I'm sure it will ring a bell with you and perhaps leave you smiling. 


       Hanging On The Line  
                         by  Patti Ross 

She said

Due to the large volume of calls, there is a wait for the next available agent.

I said

Due to your company’s lack of hiring enough personnel, the phone lines are clogged

She said

Thank you for your patience

I said

What patience?  I’m not patient.  I’m irritated and angry and fussed

I’ve been on this line for ages punching one and punching two and now…now I’d like to punch you.

She said

Thank you for your patience.  And then scratchy recorded music bombarded my ear.

I said

I’ve been holding so long, my arm is numb and I fear for my circulation.  I hammered on O and pounded on keys but its no use.

She said

Due to the large volume of calls we are presently experiencing there is a considerable wait.  Thank you for your patience.

I said

I’m about at the end of my rope.  I may hang…up.  Wait. I hear something…a live person speaking to me.  Really!

She said

My name is Lorilei.  How may I assist you?

I said

Due to the lengthy wait, I can’t remember why I called.  Please hold while I look for my notes.

Thank you for your patience.

Beautiful Old Broads vote to be vocal

Dear Ones,

The media natters on and on about how divisive our population appears.  They stress the fact that we’re contentious.  It’s one of their favorite topics. We all look around guiltily and nod our heads. Yes we do seem to disagree on many fronts. 

 Well, good for us, I say.  We are only following in the footsteps of our august forefathers…and mothers. Just take a long look back in history.  Exactly when was that period when we all held hands and sang “Kumbaya”???

 Not at the birth of our democracy when the original 13 colonies absolutely abhorred the idea of a federation. It was only after much wrangling and debate that finally in 1789, our Constitution was ratified and slowly we began to pull the oars of government together.  But then came the civil war and states jumped ship. And in the 1850’s the senate was deeply conflicted due to the slavery issues.  So much so that on one occasion Senator Foote from Mississippi drew a pistol in self defense when the burly Senator Thomas Hart Benson came rumbling down the aisle. Open carry was NOT an issue.  Wisely, Vice President Fillmore quickly adjourned the session that day and the two senators quickly cooled and apologized.

Not in the years before WW1. There were riots and strikes early in the century and then there was bitter disagreement on whether we should be involved “over there”.  Leave them fight their own wars, many said.

Not in the late thirties.  Though FDR wanted to stand beside England, the American people were, as usual, divided.  It wasn’t until Japan invaded and Germany declared war on us that we united in defeating Japan and Hitler.

History shows that we Americans are noisy, opinionated and outspoken.  And so we should be.  How sad if we were silent and complacent or if we stopped caring about issues or were afraid to debate topics.  Yes, maybe the media is correct in saying we do disagree more often than not.  However, one of the Latin meanings for dissension is to think.  So hopefully Americans will continue to think, to care, to stand up and voice their opinions and to argue for ideals close to their hearts.  I say…good for us.   History also shows that when we do decide to stand together, we are a powerful nation.

            “A government big enough to give you everything you want is strong enough

             to take everything you have.”             Thomas Jefferson                   

Beautiful Old Broads say goodbye to May

Dear Ones,

I began the merry month of May with a post about May Day and May altars.  As this is the last of May, I decided to write a poem called "May Night"  Hope you like it.

                                                  May Night

                                                            By patti ross

                                    Thunder trembles eyes closed tight

                                    Against the rumbling night

                                    Hold fast…don’t slip into the storm

                                    Wind thrashes lashes wet with tears

                                    Ripping fast the sheets that cleat us here

   

                                    Adrift, alone, to see no more

                                    The years of Mays piled up on shore.

                                    Hold fast…sweet May

                                    Stay another day.

Beautiful old broads discuss fifty shades of gray

Dear Ones,

We may eschew needle pointy Manolos.  We may not wear bandage wide skirts or teeny brief shorts anymore, but when it comes to our hair; we still have much in common with our younger counterparts for women of all ages obsess over hair.  Too curly, too straight, too thin, too, just too too.  From the time we start peering into the mirror, we begin to adjust and cut and blower and spray and later perhaps bleach, rinse, highlight, dye.  You name it, females have done it to their tresses.  A memory I have is doing my mom’s hair.  Every Saturday morning I would shampoo her hair and then open a small packet of bluing and mix with water and pour it over her head.  After rinsing, I’d set her hair in small pin curls.  Anyone remember pin curls or that blue rinse?    

Any doubt in my mind about how much females ponder their hairdos and it was put to rest by a google search of  ‘dying hair’   More sites to check out than there are hairs on a head.  Yes, this is a topic close to our hearts…err I mean heads. The long list of subjects covered everything from how to dye your hair with kool-aid to (and I quote) “Does dying your hair kill lice?”  Ah, the magic of the internet! 

So should BOB’s highlight, dye or alter their hair or embrace the gray?  Should they imitate Emmylou Harris (yes she’s 68) and revel in the beauty of silver.  Or the opposite end of the spectrum was Joan Rivers with her blinding gold head.  Truly, there are fifty shades of grey from ash and platinum to titian to cool blonde. No more blue thankfully. 

Go for it.  If it pleases an older woman to lighten, darken or highlight, then do it.  At our age we should follow our instincts.  By now we know what’s best for ourselves.  And at the bottom line if it makes you smile and you’re happy--do it.  After all, we are hair today…gone tomorrow. 

                        “Everything you see, I owe to spaghetti.”   Sophia Loren

Beautiful Old Broads look for quiet

Dear Ones,

Shhh!.  Hush.  Be quiet.  What do these words convey?  Perhaps you picture a library, the theater, or church.  Quiet is also used as an unforgiving tool. Giving someone the cold shoulder or withdrawing your words in anger and saying with satisfaction—I’ll never speak to you again.  Another negative take on silence. 

Then focus on solitude, a word that conjures up negative images too.  Think solitary confinement or for a child…time out. And we all know what it means to be labeled a LONER.   Tsssk, tssk.  Not good.  No. In our wired, networking, multi tasking universe, one should embrace social contacts, be upbeat, be friended on facebook.  In short, always be out there.  Wherever that is?  Our culture doesn’t particularly revere silence and stillness and time alone.  And let’s not go to multi tasking.  You see it all the time.  In the restaurant folks texting and talking on their cell and eating a sandwich and oh yes…listening to you.  Not really.  Distractions leave us scattered and inefficient and tense.

Stillness and silence and solitude, far from restrictions or punishments  are anodynes to the soul. A value can’t be placed on the calmness, these pursuits bring to our life. The mystics and wise men/women have practiced meditation and sought solitude down through the ages.  So why don’t we seek out stillness and aloneness more often? We can go to great lengths to ‘not be alone’.  It’s a conundrum.

My take on it is that society places such a high value on being busy.  Being retired (which most of us BOB’s are) we should have ample time to pursue stillness and solitude but many of us are busy busy bees.  Here I must say that in no way do I mean one should close the door and stay inside. What I’m saying is we need time to ponder, time to watch the butterflies or just stare at the wall and find inner stillness.   To define solitude, the best way to put it is that being alone is a condition where you are by yourself.  Lonely is how you feel about it.  Seeking solitude enriches us and literally fills our pitchers when they become empty.  Quiet time, contemplation, Quakers call it centering.  You can do it out in the garden weeding or in your favorite reading chair or by walking.  This practice of quietness recharges us. The benefits are numerous and its so easy.

Not really.  All these profound sayings make it appear easy.  Oh yes.  But the hard fact is that life butts in.  Everywhere there is noise and distractions and one gets caught up in a tangle of activity.  For to be silent is a challenging discipline and to look inward can be uncomfortable. 

Upon reflection, its all about balance isn’t it?  Balancing the outward and the inward life.  Balancing duties with pleasures.  Balancing needs and desires.  All through life we strive for that perfect mix.  A challenge.  Growing older, it should get easier…but does it? 

            “There is a solitude which we carry within us more inaccessible that ice cold mountains, more profound than the midnight sea—the solitude of self.”

                                                                                    Elizabeth Cady Stanton

        

Beautiful Old Broads remember May

Dear Ones, 

I was buoyed by all the comments about my post last week on May altars and thrilled that some of you BOB’s shared your memories.  Am passing their reminisces on to you all.

Susie who grew up in Fort Worth remembers helping her dad plant rose bushes and beating a tennis ball against the garage wall when she wasn’t struggling with confirmation classes at church.

Another Texas gal remembers walking home from school to her grandmothers.

In the backyard pecan tree, she rigged up a trapeze that she made from a metal mop handle.

Mary Ann,(who grew up in central Illinois, shared a charming story about her May Day.  Little girls made vases out of construction paper and hung bouquets on neighbor’s doors. 

Memories are so precious and so individual.  And we BOB’s were clever gals.

Thanks for sharing and I have one more moment about my May memories to share with you. Last week I wrote that I was going to sing more and sing loud too.  I sailed right in to sing some of those old Blessed Mother hymns from long ago May days.  Only problem was except for the chorus and a few snatches of notes, I couldn’t remember the words.  Humming was not an option so ta-dah…You Tube to the rescue.  I googled Queen of the May and like magic, the song popped up on my screen with all the lyrics.  Then the magnificent voice of Irish tenor, Frank Patterson filled my study.  What a reaction that triggered in me.  My eyes filled…and overflowed and as he sang all the verses, the words swept me back to St Theresa’s and those long ago Mays and I just about flooded the room with tears (okay I exaggerate) but I did weep.  The music resonated inside me and I wanted my mother and my sister and my childhood all back.  Hard to explain, just a yearning. It was a bittersweet few minutes.  Music truly has the power to touch the soul and stir the heart.

Enough of the past…on to the present and a sincere warm wish that all of you sisters and mothers, and daughters and aunts have a beautiful Mother’s Day.

                        “Oh better than the minting of a cold-crowned king

                        Is the safe-kept memory of a lovely thing.”    Sara Teasdale