Fifty Shades of Illegal....

Sunday, November 30, 2014

The Red Tailed Hawk. (came in a dream)..........................by Diane Ogden


I was kneeling on one knee on the lawn of my apartment complex.  I was holding a child.   My two grown sons were on top of one of the buildings watching quite an unbelievable scene about to take place. 

Something spiritual made me look up.  That is when I found myself watching the most beautiful Leucistic Red Kite Hawk soaring downward toward me.  I should have been frightened but I was not.  The site of his huge, what seemed bigger than life wingspan of brown and white feathers came closer and closer.  The feathers were so vivid to my eyesight I am sure he came from another world.
And then, he landed directly before and aside me.  I still wasn't frightened.  I can still see the intensity of his eyes as I write this memory.  He leaned his majestic white head toward me and touched the child's head with his.  I knew he had come with a healing.  I reached out and touched his neck.  I could feel his strength through the dense feathers.  He allowed me to stroke his neck with my fingers.  That is when I heard the boys holler down,  "Is that a Hawk?"  

I was afraid to shout back that it was.  I didn't wish to disturb our heavenly connection.  I did not respond to my sons, rather I loudly said, "Dad!"   My intention as I recall now was to call my Dad to come see this amazing creature.  Or was it me telling my sons it was my Dad who was sitting before me as The Hawk.  I saw my mother in the background at another house being busy and not interested in "The Hawk."   My Dad never came after I called out his name.  That is because he was "The Hawk."  Allowed to come from the here after to assist me at a difficult time. I know this without a shadow of a doubt.

Recently I had experienced some real life on earth problems with a few people.  My Dad was not pleased with all the naughty little attacking birds (people) around me.   I believe the child I was holding was myself.  (Who by the way disappeared after the Hawk touched her with his majestic strength......) We all have a child within us no matter our age.  Apparently my little child needed a healing touch.  I must have had  some childhood memories that were holding me back.

I believe in Animal Totems.  When I woke up from this vivid dream at 4:30 a.m. I fixed a cup of decaf with 100% cocoa.  Pulled out my Animal Totem book by Ted Andrews and found the description of The Hawk Totem.  That simply means if you encounter the same animal several times it usually means they are trying to tell you something.  Listen. 

Example:  From page 154 Ted Andrews/Animals Speak
Hawks are occasionally harassed and attacked by smaller birds.  This is very significant for those  who have a hawk as a totem.  It indicates that there are likely to be attacks by people who wont understand you or the varied and different uses  of your creative energy.  They may attack your ability to soar.

That is exactly what was happening to me in real life. 

The Hawk showing me his majestic soaring toward me was also described in the book. 
"Rising to a higher level can bring a rapid development of the psychic energies.  The red-tailed hawk helps us in balancing and using those senses appropriately.  It teaches the balance necessary to discover our true purpose in life.  The hawk is a catalyst, stimulating hope and new ideas."
 
To the Pueblo Indians, the red-tailed hawk was known as the red eagle.  Its feathers and energies were used in healing ceremonies and for bringing the rains and waters necessary for life.  To the Ojibwa, the red-tailed hawk represented leadership, deliberation, and foresight.  "Hawk is akin to Mercury, the messenger of the gods. Hawk medicine teaches you to be observant.  Life is sending you signals. The red-tail can spread its wings to a great width, (which I observed in the dream) and it can teach you to use your creative energies in the same way.  It can extend the vision of your life as it did mine.
 
The sky is the realm of he hawk.  Through its flight it communicates with humans and with the great creator spirit.  It awakens our vision and inspires us to a creative purpose.
 
When something comes from heaven there is no way to find a photo to represent it properly.  The strength isn't of an earthly nature.  The colors are not of an earthly nature.  I hope my description was enough to show my visitor was real.  Love you Dad, Thank you!
 
Top photo from Lois of Flickr.
 



Saturday, November 22, 2014

The Rose.......................by Diane Ogden

I enjoy the look of roses as well as the feel and smell of each one.  They remind me of antiques, pearls, lace, gentleness and peace of mind.  Riches. A calm and safe place.  Beauty of every color. Velvet.

One of my clients is an artist.  She  enjoys painting people, landscapes, and animals in her spare time.  One day I spotted one of her finished canvas's.  It was a pink rose and pink is my favorite color.  I asked her if I could buy it from her.  She wasn't sure, but added maybe later.  I assumed  she may have had an upcoming art show. 

A couple visits later I told her I would like to buy that for myself as a Birthday gift.  I always buy myself something nice for my birthday. After all it is MY birthday.

Yesterday came and it was time for my bi weekly visit to Fran Klos.  When it came time for her to pay me for my services I told her to make the check out for $100 less as it was time for me to buy her beautiful Pink Rose for my Birthday gift.  She responded with, "Absolutely not, you may have that for your Birthday!"  I was shocked.  I am still not sure what I said as I am used to being the one that gives so when receiving, especially at that level, I was at a loss for words.   I think I said the standard OMG.  How classlessly tacky huh?  I may have said gosh vs God.  I probably added something like, "Oh you don't have to do that."  Jeepers I wish I would have stuck with OMG.   I recall her saying, "I am pleased to give this to you Diane."    And so I appropriately said, "Thank You Fran, this makes me very happy."

And so I drove home with great anticipation of hanging the precious gift, "My Rose."

 
 

Saturday, November 15, 2014

The Fullest Pampers Box in the World................by Diane Ogden

For some time now I have needed to send my son in California a few items.  With the UPS and or FED X and or Post Office Rates going up up lately I sort of put it off.  The last time at the Post Office I inquired how much a certain weight would be to ship to Cali.  They estimated ten pounds for $35.00.  Not bad... I had expected it to cost a lot more. 

I boxed the items up in a Pampers box and headed for the Post Office.  The nice Postal employee-man who I have gotten to know over the years gave me the total and then checked my taping to his satisfaction.  As he tallied up the  I mentioned to him what was in the small box.  He looked at me with utter disbelief.  That is when I told him my son had better get those items out of that box a.s.a.p. next Friday or they will never be the same again.  After he agreed we both laughed at the craziness of how I got all those items in that small box along with a jar of my son's favorite cookies.

One J.Crew Navy Pea Coat: Size LARGE
One Columbia Winter Coat lined, for his camping trips:  Size LARGE

Three Banana Republic Silk Cashmere Sweaters:  Black, Grey, Plum. Size LARGE
And two very nice button down shirts:  Pink and White for under the million dollar sweaters.  
One pickle jar of Gma Tillie's German Pfieffernut Cookies.

EIGHT ITEMS:  I rolled the two coats up and stood them upright leaving a small space in the center of the box. I put the cookies between the two shirts I placed between the two coats  in the empty space. I did have to push pretty hard.  The three sweaters lay flat on top of everything.    (The size of the box also kept the cost down.)

Not very interesting huh?  Yet fascinating indeed.  I can pack a UHaul just as good. Not that that is any major human feat.  Hey, some people cant do it. 

I can now mark that off my list of to-do's.  It will arrive next Friday and hopefully the items will regain their shape as well as my son will DRY CLEAN those amazingly expensive sweaters!!

Til next time:   Be Well, Be Safe, Be Happy, and get rich so you can ship the scrunched up coats and such OVERNIGHT!  Not really.  That would have cost more than the clothes all put together were worth! 

Friday, November 14, 2014

Coffee Jolts ......................by Diane Ogden

It's Friday. I was happy to get home after a long week.  Had some hidden thoughts about doing nothing for two days until I noticed the kitty litter needed some serious refreshing in terms of a trip to the Pet Store for more Dr. Elsey's litter, which is the best I have ever experienced.  Not that I have really experienced using it of course, rather the time it lasts for my two felines.

I then cleaned the kitchen for the weekend and noticed I needed to water my several plants.  That reminded me of the time someone told me to give my plants some coffee.  It will make them happy just like it does us.  I happened to have some real coffee left in the cupboard from last year so I made a full 12 oz. cup which I then poured  on one of my plants.  I walked back to the kitchen and made another 12 oz. cup and poured that on another plant.  Then another, and two trees, and finally a spider plant and a palm. 

Suddenly the apartment smelled like hot dirt.  The smell of Hot Dirt does not smell very good. 

It was then I remembered why I had that plastic tub of real coffee left in the cupboard.  I cant drink real coffee.  It makes me sort of crazy!  I then thought to myself, as I looked up into the sun room waiting for the trees and potted plants to start making noises or moving around like the wind was blowing when it really wasn't, that they might get weird and crazy somehow.  I mean that is what coffee does to me and my friend told me to give coffee to my plants because they would have the same reaction as I do.  Little did that friend know I could end up at the E.R.  after a cup of coffee.  Its called ANXIETY.   So far no plants have freaked out, wilted, or died.  In fact they look real real happy. 

Wonder what would happen if I tried to make them happy with a Margarita!   
Probably not 12 oz. though.  I cant even do that.   I do wonder if I overdosed them with the coffee thing.  My friend did say to pour my leftovers on the plants. She didn't mention making each one a pot. (or a large cup) 

Not to worry, I wont be pouring Margarita's on my trees, or giving them coffee again in the near future (unless they grow a foot this month).  I might try pickle juice though.  They say that is amazing in many ways.  What I wont be doing is putting anymore chemicals on them or me.  They are a living thing like myself and my animals.  So I am doing some testing on my living plants.  If they die I may not drink coffee anymore ever.  I will change to Green Tea for my Tree's.

So for now, Be Safe, Be Happy, Be Healthy, and get RICH, so can counter act the KOCK Brothers takeover of our country.  You know?  The old fogies who are fracking our earth, using Roundup on our crops trying to kill us so they can make billions!  Or maybe use your money to move to an island or Norway.  They say that is the best place to live and where you can live the longest.  I wonder why?
Maybe no RoundUp there!  I betcha. 

Nite!

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Open House..........................by Diane Ogden

I have this really sweet High School friend, well she was not a High School friend, but since the invention of facebook we have re- connected and are now friends.  God that was not a necessary explanation or was it?

So my friend is having an open house for her live in Father's 90th Birthday. (Bless her care taking heart!)
Fact number two or three is she lives 1.5-2 hours north of where I live in a super nice log cabin home.  With food.
That being said, I have been planning on surprising her with a visit to her open house.  Even considered inviting another of our H.S. friends along for the ride. 
But then..... I googled how to get there without driving the INTERSTATE which causes me undo anxiety due to feelings of abandonment when I see too far ahead where the road "don't" end.   Yes I know the proper grammar is, doesn't end.  So I googled GPS to her home without Highways.  The time would be approximately two hours up, an hour sitting or standing around eating due to lack of knowing anyone, and two hours back. Not that I do not know how to mingle.  Also having to cross one long bridge over water which could ultimately kill me due to my total fear of dying in water.  I know I know....fear it and it will come.  So erase that please. 
I have decided it would be and is more enjoyable calling her on occasion from a grocery store parking lot with news of this and that.  We both laugh much during these phone calls.  No bridges over water, no guilt on her end for not having time to sit / babysit me and whoever I convinced to take the trek with me.  I will say if I were retired and more laid back I would go, relax, eat a bit, stay longer, and get back home before dark considering I was the 1% whose cataract surgery messed up.  I  cant see to drive at night and would drive off the bridge and die in my most feared way.  Erase that .....now.  
Am I kidding?  Maybe. 
Have an amazing open house my friend!!  I will be thinking of you and yours while I bake cookies.
Be Safe, Be Well, Be Happy and get rich so you can hire a driver who isn't afraid to cross bridges! (over water)

Sunday, November 9, 2014

ANOTHER WORLD.................by Diane Ogden


It was late evening when I departed Missouri headed for even deeper southern parts of this country with its so called freedom of everything. Somehow lately that was becoming a trend of the past. Government seemed to be taking over in an undercover manner that reminded me of the MAFIA days in the sixties. Same deal, different year. No public gunshots and bloodshed at the bars of brotherly love in Chicago and New York. No this takeover of the masses was not as smooth as it was hidden behind congressional doors. I paid as little attention to it as I could considering my inability to stop it. I did wonder on occasion, should I store up some water jugs and cans of tuna just in case. In case of what? I was never sure of what. I heard tell of secret concentration camps for the poor and those who didn't agree with the new world and their antics. Conspiracy theorist? No I was never one of those. But hey, come on, I wasn't blind either. Most people with any sense knew change was on the horizon and it wasn't coming from the then black President. The country was being run by old fogies hiding in the underworld of what we used to call democracy.
I had not traveled even midway toward my destination when my car broke down. I was in a small town in Oklahoma. I had all my papers in order for the border crossing into Mexico as well as I had purchased a beautiful villa on the coast, from a friend. That friend had made his way to Australia. One of the few less ruled countries in the world. Nevertheless, there I was in little
"timbuck40" calling for a wrecker and feeling very alone on the side of the road in the middle of no where'sville. The wrecker arrived within a half hour. A pleasant surprise to see a tiny little woman climb down from the cab greeting me with the standard, "Howdie do." Why she looked to be the size of a twelve year old. I had to giggle to myself. After all the necessary vehicle security hook ups we climbed into the cab headed for Okmulgee. I know, it sounds like the name of an old army stew. Rather it means bubbling water. This from Wikipedia:
Okmulgee, city, seat (1907) of Okmulgee county, east-central Oklahoma, U.S. It lies near the Deep Fork of the North Canadian River, south of Tulsa. Its name (meaning "bubbling water") comes from a Creek Indian town in Alabama. It was the capital of the Creek Nation from 1868 until Oklahoma achieved statehood in 1907. Settled by whites about 1889, Okmulgee boomed after the discovery of oil in 1904 and is now a commercial and industrial centre for oil and gas production and agriculture (pecans, cotton, corn [maize], cattle). The manufacture of oil-field equipment, electronic equipment, small aircraft, and glass is also important. Oklahoma State University at Okmulgee (1946) is one of the largest U.S. technical colleges. Okmulgee Lake Recreational Area is to the west. Inc. 1908. Pop. (2000) 13,022; (2010) 12,321.

On our ride back to the city the woman told me all about herself. She had seven children. She owned the local tire store with an attached vehicle repair center. Her husband had run off a few years back and instead of wallowing in the self pity of it all, she started her own business. She then listed to me one by one each of her children's ages and duties. She had some dandy stories to tell me during our forty minute trek back. It was hard to get a word in edgewise, even so, there was much laughter in the cab of that shiny yellow tow truck that day. Upon arrival at the repair shop she offered me a loaner vehicle, at a price of course.


It was wheat harvesting time in that area. I had taken a drive out and about the countryside while my car was being repaired. There really wasn't much to see in that part of the country. Not until I came to pass a field appearing to have been partially flooded. Flooded with something besides rainwater. It looked like milk. A huge field of mashed down wheat soaking in milk. Oddest thing I had ever seen. I slowed down to the point I was creeping along about ten mph. There was a curve in the road and as I rounded that bend there stood two white animals. They were actually two of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen. I knew I shouldn't stop and get out but I had to. Some force other than anything I had ever known was pulling me toward those animals. The thick milky substance in the field, and he odd looking animals, should have been totally creeped me out and I should have driven away as fast as humanly possible, but I did not. As I walked toward them I again noticed something odd. Their eyes were shining like tiny stars. Was I dreaming? No. I reached out to the smaller one what appeared to be a cow. The other was a large dog. Both very similar in size. I know, weird right? Each time I touched one of the animals it felt like I was in another world. A peace came over me that I had never experienced on this earth. I began to feel frightened. I backed away and I drove on searching for more white covered fields and or animals but there were no more. That is when I saw a ranch house and pulled in the driveway. I was in need of sharing my findings. There were several vehicles parked around the house and outer buildings so I felt rather safe. I am not sure why because at that point I should have been calling the authorities. The next thought was why? What would I tell them? Maybe something like :

"Hi, my name is, and I just passed a wheat field soaking in milk and two very peace filled white animals with sparkling stars for eyes." Ya right. Call the padded wagon people for sure.

So what did I tell the people who lived in this ranch house? Same deal? I knocked at the front entrance. I stood there for what seemed too long when a man finally answered the door. I recited my name as though that would be all I would need to do and he would understand the entire story. Of course not. Funny what our minds do to us when we are nervous and wish to escape. I proceeded to ask him what the milky substance in the wheat field adjacent to his residence was. And I thought possibly he had misplaced a couple of animals. He looked at me strangely not saying a word. I pressed my lips thin and raised my eyebrows in an expression as to say, "Well?"

He answered with, "Maam, I don't know what you are talking about."

I carefully and slowly reiterated what I had seen in the fields regarding the white milk and the animals, at which time he hollered very loudly for his brother Chetley. Yes Chetley. Who names their kid Chetley? But then who tells a story like I just had told to Chetley's wiener brother! Yes that was either my humorous side regarding the wiener brother or fear. Maybe both as I am seeing something strange in the eyes of the brothers and it "ain't" stars. They are thinking there may be a crazy lady at their door, yet her story needed to be checked out. They invited me inside and introduced me to the rest of the family. Said they were going to go investigate my story and I was welcome to stay until their return. I accepted. Sometimes in life it would be helpful to be able to see ahead just a few hours! If I could have done that my decision to stay would have been a very different one.

About thirty minutes had passed when Chetley and wiener hustled back into the ranch house with such intensity I felt twinges of anxiety rushing through my veins. They instructed the family to gather all necessary belongings along with family photos and load the vehicles.

I said, "Wait, why, what did you find out there?"

Chetley told me to stay in the living room and they would come and get me when the cars were loaded and it was time to leave. And then they systematically moved about the house and yard readying themselves for what appeared to be a long vacation. Inside I knew different. Something big was happening and I was smack dab in the middle of it. But what? I paced for a bit, sat for a bit, even turned on the television trying to disengage my brain and find that peace I had back near the "Milk Field."

As the TV came on saying "SPECIAL BULLETIN FROM NBC NEWS." The cars pulled out of the driveway without me! And before I could run outside to join them, a helicopter was over the ranch house with a loud speaker saying anyone left inside was not to leave the area. The area was now under quarantine. I whirled around toward the TV and there was my loaner car and the ranch house in grand 52 inch view. Who would ever need a 52 inch TV anyway?

Gathering my wits about me had not worked. I opened the front door only to see men in huge white suits covered from head to toe. Oxygen tanks in tow. Oh my dear God what is happening? The men told me I was under quarantine orders from the United States department of defense. Defense? I asked why please. They said they weren't able to give me any information at this time but that the quarantine was indefinite. They would be in contact with me if I needed anything in the meantime.

Meantime? Indefinite? Are you fricking serious? I started running through the house out of shear fear and panic. Then to the kitchen to see what food was available for indefinite which to me meant the same as the word infinity when I used to try to figure that out as a child. I had my phone but the charger was in the car. Was I allowed to go to my car? Then the tanks arrived. Yes army tanks outside on the County Road such and such. It was obvious this woman, me, was going no where.

The TV was now giving me more information than the authorities. It showed the field of thick milky substances and the two white peace-filled animals. Then the ranch house and my vehicle. I wanted to go to the front door and wave at the camera's but thought I had best not do that. I was a foreigner in these parts. I only said "howdie do" a couple times and that was just a mere attempt to fit in. Well I had found a way to never fit in, hadn't I?

The nights darkness came swiftly. Something I hadn't thought about in all the ruckus of helicopters, news crews, police and fire trucks.... and then they all disappeared. NBC Bulletin said the foreign white substance could be deadly and the only human being that touched it was in quarantine inside the ranch house on County Road such and such. Why I was terrified. Not of death from the substance, but of human beings coming to get rid of the only person to have touched the goo. I knew the goo wasn't bad. It was white and peaceful. Nothing like I had ever felt or touched.

Weariness had settled upon me. I fell into a deep sleep in the big old brown leather recliner. I left the television running as it helped the loneliness of the situation. Did the government think it was a disease? Who put it there? How did the two animals get there and why?

Just then a beautiful man appeared before me. I believe I was dreaming. Or was I? He told me "they" were from Another World and not to be afraid. The milky substance was their creation given to us, the U.S. as an antidote to the latest killing virus Ebola. The government would never know where it came from or why. Only I had been allowed that information.

I asked why me? The kind loving man told me because it was my time to have that special peace everlasting. I had been chosen because I was the closest human being to the area when it was sprayed. No one would have ever known if I hadn't told the rancher man. And by touching the animals I had received a dosage of anti viral medicine beyond the level any human could endure.... I would be leaving with the men in white and the two animals for everlasting life elsewhere. I had no fear. The peace I felt from the other world didn't exist anywhere I had ever lived or traveled here. I asked what about the people left here? Shouldn't we tell them about the healing from Ebola?

He smiled and said, "No my dear, they wouldn't believe. Each of them will come to a time in their lives such as you have this day. Their time to go to Another World and have everlasting peace. Are you ready to go now?"

And so we did, and it was forever peacefully beautiful.

Amen.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Liz-Sport in 1984.................by Diane Ogden


I visited my Nana in or around 1984.  She took me shopping as she had since I was seven. (On various occasions until I moved away.)   This time I was around thirty seven and visiting her from out of town.  (I cannot recall my exact age but that is very close)   We went to Dillard's, which is comparable to our Boston Store, North of the Mason Dixon Line.  Yankee's that we are.  Me, I'm a half-breed.  Raised half my life below the Mason Dixon Line and half above it. 

Back to Dillard's.  We had a lovely shopping excursion along with a fine lunch. 

My Nana passed away about twelve years later.  I had moved back to Wisconsin in 1988 and never saw her again.  But I still have the sweater she bought me that shopping day back when. 

The sweater is a Liz-Sport.  I am having it dry cleaned this month.  No need to frame it like some would the #4 Packer jersey.  It got a bit musty from the storage bin at my complex.  Not enough circulation.  I shall hand it down to a family member one of these days.  It is nice to have something tangible to remind me of what a fine woman she was.  She taught me what true class means. She was engaged to Gene Autry.  I know I shared that before.  But then I could have/should have slept with Buck Owens and sat on one of those swings on Hee Haw, but I did not.  God my Dad would have been so proud.  LOL.  I am laughing out loud too. 

                                                 Buelah (Pat) Morrison     Austin, Texas

Saturday, October 18, 2014

The Cardboard Box Part II Chapter One "Good Bye".............................property of Diane Ogden

Chapter One:
Good Bye....

The limo stopped in front of 4202 Bradwood Road, the home of my Grandparents I had been visiting the past month.  James, the driver, stepped out of his ultra upscale daily living quarters where he ushered around some of the most well known political and social people of Texas and Oklahoma.  Me, I was out of my league and then again I proved to myself I knew when to hold 'em, I knew when to fold 'em, and I certainly showed I knew when to walk away.  I had held my own with the "big boys," and walked away at precisely the right moment.  Heck I should have been proud of myself when instead I was very sad. 

Billy and I had a short lived love story killed by mistrust.  Something he had grown up with.  I grew up with the same mistrust yet money triggered a false sense of confidence in him called pride.  That reminds me of the Oklahoma town I drove through last month called Pride.  I sure wondered why anyone would name a town Pride.  I suppose it's like lemons and lemonade.  Depends on how one thinks. 

Sitting in the back of such an elegantly upholstered moving vehicle should make even the finest of a lady happy.  But I was feeling quite empty.  I am sure it was the emotionally charged day I had just experienced.  I felt like my internal battery had died.  Or like a huge balloon someone poked a pin into and as I deflated so did my energies.  Just then James opened my door and extended his hand as an aid to my exit.  I reciprocated and stepped out of my once promised future now gone.  James walked me to the front door where Nana and Duke greeted us.  Duke was so excited he was crying and rolling around like a lost child had found its mother.  James got down on one knee and spoke to Duke with a gentle kind voice.  Duke responded by sitting quietly at James feet.  You can always tell a good man by how he treats an animal.  We both walked Duke outside for his evening relief time.   James turned to leave but before doing so looked into my eyes and said, "Miss Julianna, yousse juss give dat boy some time. Lets him grow some, den see hows yousse feelin' on da insides of yo heart.  You take care now." 

James was from deep in the heart of Louisiana where they spoke half French and half something else.  I think it is called Cajun.  I loved to listen to him speak for I had never heard such a combination of languages before.  Maybe James was right. Billy did need some time to grow.  But how would I ever get the sight of him on one knee extending that gorgeous ring towards me yet the tone was a beggars tone.  Desperate to right the wrong he had done to the woman he said he loved.  He was but a boy.   A long legged man.  I loved a boy.  Sadness overwhelmed me. Pity overwhelmed me for Billy and for me.  The Governor's Grandson and all that went with it was out of my reach because that was my decision.  Marrying Billy now would never have worked out in the end. 

Nana and I sat in the summer house off the main house quarters for hours that night. She sat quietly while I told her what had happened at the Governors ranch that day.  How Billy had set me up, not asking me where the million dollars had came from.  Rather believing I was hiding something from him.  I told Nana how Daddy Justice was there sitting all big and full of nasty southern pride.  How he and Billy and Governor Connally cornered me like three rodeo boys on steeds cornering a small calf.  How I came out fighting like Cassius Clay but also like a lady.  It was the three of them that ended up in barrels like rodeo clowns hiding from the charge of the bull.   Nana was sipping her usual Canadian Club laughing at my descriptiveness.  Cant say I didn't join her with a couple shots myself.  Duke seemed quite content laying very close to me picking up every tone of voice I expressed.  When my voice rose with intensity so did Duke.  We had to giggle yet appreciate his sincere loyalty to me.

The door to the summer house swung open and a voice said, "What in the sam hell are you two doing out here in the middle of the night. Why I searched the house over for you two."

Nana and I broke into deep laughter at Granddaddy standing there in his satin pajama's I know were made of the finest materials from Dillard's purchasing department store.  The best in the area.  Granddad asked if everything was okay.  Then shook his head and went back to bed.  And so did we.

I decided to wait until the following day to make any decisions regarding when to head north to Amarillo, catching Route 66 toward Los Angeles.  I was going to find my way back to my original travel plan after all that had transpired.   I was glad to be alive and glad to have experienced most of what went down.  Especially meeting and falling in love with the Governor of Texas's Grandson, Billy Connally.




Why Was I Born?

Sitting in my office late one evening, meaning like tonight, watching an old Netflix movie.  As it ended I had the revelation of WHY I WAS BORN.....  I have always wondered, which my mentor tells me not to do as she believes strongly that means I don't have enough faith in God.  I say hogwash.  Of course I do, its just that I believe in more.  God gives us MORE. I don't hide behind God.  Humm maybe I should.
I personally have had a football field life. In all honesty I have learned the common skills of receiving  which include passing, tackling, evasion of tackles, catching and kicking all sort of bullshit out of my huddle.  I could pull out a few positives and I do because I am the great pretender.  I could and do listen to motivational speakers to pull myself out of the quicksand I have feared and imagined since childhood. But the truth is .....my life has been a steady stream of bad plays.  All sort of matters I don't fancy. I could explain it by saying:  I have a life I watch happen while wondering wtf?  Yes wtf?  My physician sent me to a counselor.  The first appointment of ONE HOUR, I was told I deserve to say that f bomb word.  She also said they had no one available except a student to work with me.  I laughed.  The poor student.  How dare she do that to basically a child.  I left the building.  
I am a person born to love.  I am a nurturer, caretaker, lover of creativity, rhyme, and much fancy.  Glitz, fun, colored lites, jokes, singing and so on.  A person who has been hit with the baseball, crushed by the football quarterbacks, smashed by the tennis racket, hit with the hockey puc, thrown by the horse, run over by the truck, and last but certainly not least, hit with a family shotgun, and so on. 
What was my revelation before continuing my rant of a rough life.....? Wha Wha.
It is simply I was born for  a reason
Maybe it was the son who aspires to be a famous actor.
Maybe it was the son whose Dutch wife wishes seclusion from everyone and changed their names so no one can find them. And who sent me a funeral card stating my son was dead.  I still do not know for sure.                
Or maybe the son who thought I overstepped my boundaries. Don't all Grandma's?  At least once!
Or maybe the Granddaughter who cant publicly acknowledge me for fear her step dad might find out he paid for the wrong kid all his life.  Add I do not get to be a part of  her son's, my GGrandson's life due to that fact also.
Or maybe it's the step Granddaughter who believes she is a wounded soul and throws fits at every family gathering to the point there will no longer be any.
Maybe it is the son who is imprisoned who may change the life of another inmate .......
Maybe it is the estranged daughter whose daughter may be President someday or better yet a Senator....or even better yet, happy and uncursed. 
Maybe its merely the kids I fostered in 1990's....
Maybe its my mummie dearest who after my father died decided she needed a new whipping boy.  Don't worry, I got away from that quarterback real fast.
Like it or not, I get to live out a life so the big picture puzzle can be completed.. Yeah for me. Is that sounding like a martyr?  Nawh.
It is just fact.
Life is an intricate web, like semen and birth and the human body and brain and souls and spirits of animals and humans alike.   It is what you DO NOT SEE.   It is physics.  It is an equation that is far beyond my earthly understanding.
Therefore if I have to endure the body going thru things I'd rather not deal with and or the mind having to go thru all those quarterbacks and shotgun blasts for what must be a darn good reason. I say BY GOD when I pass this world I better get to know what it was. 
YET....now having this revelation, I might be able to endure all of it in a better frame of mind....
I will be able to draw on the positives knowing the negatives exist no matter what.. 
I can chose to live on the positive side even tho the negatives are out to kill my spirit and soul...
And knowing even if they do.....
There is one or more people I was born, to birth, that had to be.   I am a part of what had to be.
In the big picture.
I get it now.   Thanks Charles ...... 

Sunday, August 3, 2014

"My Sweet Willie".........a short story .................by Diane Ogden


"Sweet Willie" 

I was there.  I was there when the radio blared war in our kitchen. We were seated at the table about to say a blessing upon the thick, I think German, macaroni and cheese casserole Mom had prepared.  We, being my brother Jackson, and I, Julianna.
When Father held up his notorious hand it always meant, SILENCE!  That is when we heard the voice of the President of the United States coming across the radio airways with the chill of an icicle on each word he spoke. 
I kept interrupting saying, “Father, does that mean Willie, does it?  Will he have to go?” 

Dad just gave me that old angry I mean it eyebrow crunch, hand up signal. I sat in silence listening to the terrifying words.  My mind racing in so many different directions I lost myself to the place of tears.  Mom was standing behind  Jackson, her baby, crying in like manner.  At first I wasn’t mentally aware of what was happening.  The radio, Fathers anger, Mom crying, Willie, where was Willie?  And to hell with the macaroni and cheese dinner.  I suddenly sprang from my chair running toward the phone.  I lifted the mouthpiece only to find the operator telling everyone they would have to wait their turns. Then a sound that mimicked busy busy busy.  Running or even biking to Willie’s would be faster than waiting for the darn operator.  Once my wits were back I realized those phones would not be available for a month now that war had been declared.  That is when I heard the loud whaling voice of my mother behind me.  “Julianna, wait.  Wait.”  I ignored her and with one hard push I hit the pavement running.  Running to Willie.

Willie and I had been best friends all through grade school and into Jr. High School and High School. We had been through all the normal schoolyard games such as marbles, hoops, skipping, chasing's, hidings. Sometimes I would join the girls for hopscotch and jacks.  Willie would play ball and chase.  We even ate lunch together almost every day.  The other children made fun of us the first few years and then settled in knowing it was probably always going to be this way.  Willie and Julianna. 

Now I am not just running.  I am running scared.  Running for my life.  For Willie.  At the 4th Street Exchange I saw him.  I saw Willie running just as hard and fast as I was.  He had to have heard the news about the same time we all did and as usual we had the same thoughts.  Finding each other.  I fell into his arms sobbing.  We both knew he would have to go fight a war we were too young to know much about.  We would soon realize he was a direct part of it and I was a direct extension of it and all the pain that comes with war.  We walked slowly back to my house arm in arm and the closer we got, it became clear the shadow standing at the front door was my mother waiting for me.  Her remarks were swift and harsh.  She found my interest in Willie overshadowing the fact my own brother would also be leaving.  And possibly our Father.  She was right.  I hadn’t thought beyond my Willie. 
And then he was gone.  I would sing to my Sweet Willie for the next forty years until I would finally meet him in the great beyond.

 I'll be comin home to you Sweet Willie,
I'm comin home to you..

Please don't fear Sweet Willie,
The Time is near,

I'm coming home to you...
For the War is old and forgotten by many...

 It took you from me too soon..
So be patient dear and please do not fear...

I'm comin home to you....

 We have a love that's forever and deep as the sea,
With eagerness I await thee...

Be it death or life, be it you or me...
I'm comin home to you...

 Where the valley light meets the dusk of day,
I'm comin home to you....

 I will never stop till the day is nay...
Where I meet you on the other side...

Be it floods or famine or a gunshot wound,
I welcome the end in sight.

 For my love is like the ocean deep
For it brings us always for keeps....

I'll be comin home to you sweet Willie,

I'm comin home to you...

 When the grass is green and the fields are yellow..
I'll be comin home to you....

I’ll be comin home to you… Sweet Willie

(Photo from WWII The Huffington Post)  I wrote the above short story and the song.  I sing it often and have for many years.  I do believe I lived this story in my past.  And I do believe I will be going home to my Willie some day.  There is but a veil between reality and the typed words from my heart.

Friday, August 1, 2014

Fifty Shades of Illegal...............by Diane Ogden


How the system of bad-good guys uses people who have made errors to further themselves.
They take people who have made mistakes and turn them into money making monkeys.  Scientifically at times.  Put them in corporate concentration camps called prisons.  Give them menial medical attention.  Let them die as in Oushwitz, Germany as in Hitler..  The Corporations are nothing more than gassing people in  these prisons.  Horrible people run these places.  And where horrible people are horrible things happen.  Where troubled people are, trouble happens.  There is no rehabilitation!!  Only agitation and humiliation and degradation. The Warden that gets the job is the one that saves the corp the most money. He is truly the loser but that wont show until the hereafter because there really is such a thing as KARMA you sons of bad mothers..... 
To right the wrong system is possible.  :Merely costs big bucks only corps have.  So they win each round.  You can try to sue them but JUDGES let the cases sit on their desks forever.  THey laugh at the incarcerated.  They enjoy the medieval grandstands of killing and hate while they eat grapes and have sex with their women and drink wine.  We have not evolved from those times and as I see it never will.  We must use each other up the way we are! (As my Papa Joe always said)  Stay under the radar.....don't rock the boat of anyone more powerful that thyself....  Not so smart.  Seek the spiritual word is my only advice.  Don't type any key words Google can send to the government because they are doing just that, searching the key words..  I can type something in an email and the next day I get an emailadvertising of reference regarding it.  So I know they caught the key words. Scary!!
My point?   Prison system is horrid.  Avoid it like eboli virus!  Nothing is worse then being in a cage and no one comes with the help you truly need.  UNLESS YOU HAVE  ENOUGH MONEY.....  Don't say sad.  Just get the damn money and make it happen.  Go with the flow of fifty shades of illegal.....  Turn it around like the movie story did.  Turn it around.  Thank You God for opening the bars for my son Daniel R. Hull.  He is as wise a man as Paul.  Well maybe not quite, but a good man with much to offer on the outside in the name of Jesus AMEN.  Love you Charles.  (I call God Charles, it's more fun and he/God has a sense of humor)

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Fixing all the errors.

I have taken some time off my blog to work on fixing all the errors in my fun little book.  The Cardboard Box.
And there were certainly a lot of them.   Sometimes I like to just sit down and write what comes into my head.  Later is the time to correct.  Although I dragged a few of you along with me this time. 
I'll be back, hopefully with some of my old humorous blog posts. 

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

The Cardboard Box Chapter 22 "The Ring" ..............Property of Diane Ogden

I did not inform Billy of the fact I had seen the two limo's peeking out from the side of the house. Why? What purpose would it have served. Although my female emotions were in serious need of a manual dial for fear of explosion.

Billy opened the car door for me as usual and I slid out as quietly as I had slid into it forty five minutes before. He held my hand gently as he looked into my eyes. Almost as a cross between an apologetic gesture and an uneasiness. And after the show we experienced that day I certainly learned why.

Billy opened the large heavy front doors of his families personal western ranch house. Being the gentleman was, he stepped back to allow me to enter in first. I was in awe of the huge fireplace to the left of the entrance as well as the two oversized tan leather studded sofas facing one another before the fireplace as if to speak to one another. A brown and white cowhide rug was placed between the sofa's under the leather upholstered coffee table. Only the top end portions were leather based, not the entire table as my memory serves me. As I scanned the room, I was in awe of the furnishings, paintings and just everything. Suddenly remembering I could have all this if I chose. Or could I?

I noticed Billy looking around awkwardly. I recall how he had taken on an odd shade of skin color. Something between pale green and pale pale green. I was beginning to put this ranch house limo paleface puzzle together rather quickly. But I didn't say anything. I was hoping for the best. But the best never came that day. God I needed my Granddaddy. I quickly realized that would make me as immature as I saw Billy that day. For some reason he needed backup and boy did it look like he had some serious back up.

I heard voices coming from a different part of the house. I asked who was in the house?

Billy commented, "We must have company."

Yes Billy man-boy Connally you have company all right, I thought. And then I thought again, we might as well get on with the show. I didn't need my Grandfather, or anyone. I had not done anything wrong.

Once again Billy took my hand and led me to what appeared to be a conference room where the voices were coming from. And didn't I already know and wasn't surprised to see Daddy Joseph Justice, my favorite person, on the left of the table. At the head of the long wooden table was the esteemed Governor of Texas. Both men stood up as I entered what felt like Cassius Clay's boxing ring. Everyone had a corner but me and there was no referee. Imagine that. Imagine those big shot southern "gentle-men" about to squash lil ole me. I felt like I was back in second grade the day my teacher Mrs. Bergman blamed me for something I had not done. She took me to the front of the classroom, lifted up my dress, bent me over and paddled my butt showing my underware to the entire class. Then she took me into the bathroom and left me in a corner alone and crying. It was at that point during my memory trance I heard my name being said over and over. I am surprised no one said, "Earth to Julianna!" Because I had left the room and gone back to second grade for sure.

I sort of shook my head gently and responded with a strong centered voice saying, "Hello Mr. Justice and Governor Connally, how are you this beautiful day? "

They answered politely and asked if I would like to have a seat. Of course my brain was screaming at my mouth to say no thank you, but instead my other brain took over, thank God and all his angels, as I said of course and sat down. Knowing full well something dreadful was coming but I didn't know what. I should have known what was coming considering I had just gone through the drill with my Grandfather regarding the million dollars. But why was Justice there unless he wanted his million dollars back. Cold day in Hell my mind was saying and my mouth was open and ready for similar verbage. Danged if I didnt deserve every penny of that money for what I experienced, no, for what I went through at the hands of Mr. J.B.Justice bad daddy. But if he didnt want his money back, why was he there? And why the Gov.? He already knew about the money from his background check into my bank account and from information from Justice. It was the Gov. who went to Grandad and got him all stirred up thinking I was a liar. And then the lightbulb came on bright as the yard light at my Pa's old farm. My Dad's dad that is. Farms had to have bright yard lights to be able to get to the barn at night if necessary. Well my yard light was on. I felt like I was in the barn surrounded by maneur and I had all I could do not to leap out of my chair, jump on Billy man-boy and beat the tar out of that son of a son. He had set me up. He didnt come to me like a man and ask me about the money. Nope the ratfink ignored me for two days, then ordered me into his car where he drove me to my second grade spanking in front of everyone present. I was hacked off bad. About to lose my cool. Have a cow, and then possibly faint from sheer sock it to me pressure. Was this for real? After all I had been through, was this for real?

I purposefully turned to Billy and asked him why he had brought me to his parents home without telling me where we were going. I knew how to pull the cats tail also.....and it worked.

"You did not inform Miss Rowe you were driving her to our regular home?" Daddy Gov. said.

Billy studdered like a Catholic school boy about to have his hands wacked with a ruler. "Uh, well, you see.......umm."

Daddy Gov. interupted the man-boy by saying. "William, did you or did you not tell Miss Rowe why and or where you were driving her today."

Again, the Mel Tillis studdering coming out of "William" was almost break out laughable. His Dad was a true southern gentleman and had manners accordingly.as I suspected. He didn't abuse women nor disrespect them. Although he did know how to manuever them. Con, twist, tower over, but not what Billy had done to me that day. To the girl he said he intended to marry. To love, honor, and cherish. He should have simply asked me why I had not told him about the million dollars and how I knew Joseph B. Justice. Instead he not only set me up, but he held my hand as he walked me into a fighting ring with two very powerful men hoping to have them teach me a lesson to never lie to him again. Problem is I had not lied. Billy might as well have been holding a shotgun that backfired.

I found strength rising up from my toes to my nose. I stood up, facing Billy's Dad and Mr. J.B.J. daddy rich britches and I spoke from my heart.

"Mr. Justice, Governor Connally, Billy. I had a meeting with my Grandfather yesterday regarding a meeting he had with you, Governor Connally. A meeting that you had set up with him to inform him what Mr. Justice had informed you regarding myself and the million dollars you, Mr. Justice, deposited into my bank account without my knowledge. Payment for babysitting your son Roger Justice while he was a federal fugitive from the law, unbenounced to me. I was told you informed me of your million dollar payment to me during our last conversation at your ranch near Tulsa. That is after you told me the truth about you. Mr. Justice, I was so upset after you informed me you were behind my going to jail twice, having my car impounded, my dog taken away, hospitalized after a concussion. Then add to all that you hired a hooker, a cop, paid off a judge, scared me to near death by putting me in your limo where I passed out. Then you hired a nurse to care for me until I regained myself from the concussion and the passing out in your limo when I thought you were the mafia. I attacked you figuring why not if I was going to die anyway. Not to mention your Uncle Biggs and your brother Becker, the truckers I thought kidnapped your spoiled son. It was brought to my attention by my Grandfather it was at that point you informed me of the money transfer. I was so upset with you I never heard you tell me anything about any monies. Probably because all I wanted was my car and my travelers checks you had summoned your wife to get for me from the safe. I just wanted away from all the pain and heartache you caused me. That is when Becker gave me Duke because Duke was happier with me and he saw that. I am sorry for being rude to you that day. I can only hope for your understanding as I have tried to also do for you.

I lost my parents when I was young. I can see know I that I didnt fair so badly not having a close family like all of you do. I learned to be independent, fair, kind, and honest. I have not lied to anyone. All of you came to your own conclusions without ever asking me one question. To top that you all made my Grandfather believe me to be a liar when in fact I was no such a thing. One more matter I would like to address this court about.

The Governor interupted me. "Now Miss Julianna, this is no court."

"Governor Connally, indeed it was set up to be." I said as I turned to look at Billy who wasn't standing so proudly anymore. I turned back toward the conference table, I mean the galley.....and I continued.

The matter I aim to bring forth is the fact Billy never asked me to marry him. Rather he introduced me as his fiance at his best friends fathers nego funeral up in the hills. He also told you of his intentions therefore in understand why you would do a background check on me . I was not only not asked but never presented with a proposal ring. In my heart I wonder what was all this was for? My friend always told me if I was ever to wonder it meant things were not for sure. And this is not a sure thing from my point of view. If you wouldnt mind Governor, I would like your driver to take me home please.

Billy jumped up and piped in. "No wait, Julianna, I was going to ask you, I had it all planned out. Music, dinner, wine, fireworks. Me and Duke we were going to do it right. I have the ring." He quickly pulled a small blue velvet box out of his pocket, opened it to show all of us the most beautiful diamond ring I had ever been that close to. He got down on his knee at which time I looked over at his Daddy who realized I was in need of assistance.

"Boy." He said. "Get up! This is not the time. We will talk, but right now let Julianna collect herself and you do the same."

Billy stood up. When I looked towards him, tears were falling down his face.

The limo ride home gave me some time to reflect what had just happened. One thing I knew for sure. I was totally exhausted. Yet I was proud that the half breed in me came through on both ends. She stood up for herself respectfully. And she hushed her southern mouth by not telling the lot of them to go to hell.

All of this because I picked up a thumber on Route 66 somewhere in Illinois.
I will be glad to get back on the road again. This time meeting new and interesting people with kindness in their hearts, laughter on their faces, and good words to share. And the million bucks? I think I might share that with a few on my way to L.A. via Route 66.

The End.....

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Chapter Twenty One (I think) "He Loves Me he Loves me Not" property of Diane Ogden

I hadn't heard from Billy for two days.  I'd left messages, but after the third one I decided it was time to refrain.  You know, step back.  Grandaddy told me Billy was making a bad attempt at teaching me a lesson, at which time i stopped dead in my tracks, turned toward my grandparents who were sitting at the dinner table, and of course inquired what sort of lesson that might be. All the while they were attempting to enjoy a quiet meal that once again Billy Connally was ruining because of his need to control my life from afar.  And I said as much.

Grandad looked up from his T-bone steak square into his wife's eyes and said as he wiped his chin with a newly ironed white linen cloth napkin, "Pat, will you talk some sense into that girl?"

Her response was to address me with an invite to go shopping the following day.

Grandaddy slammed his fork down obviously  showing the  lack of masculine control going on inside his head.  Then in a sharp southern drawl said, "Jesus Christ Pat, the girl has a million dollars in her bank account. You don't need to take her shopping."

Nana and I burst into laughter while Grandaddy just sat there knowing he was  out numbered.  He downed another shot of Canadian Club, smiled at us, and then turned back to finish his steak.  He had taught me to know when to fold 'em.  He was folding.

Nana was not my maternal biological grandmother, but she was my favorite.  Maybe because she wore the finest clothes, and never left her master bath before having her hair done and her makeup on.  She could ride a horse, shoot a bear, fish, and be a
lady all in the same day.  She taught me how to dress, what face creams were the best, and how to scoop a spilled tossed salad off the kitchen floor before the guests saw what she had done due to her overindulgence of the drink.

Once when I was something like six, she shaved my eyebrows off. To this day i have very blonde eyebrows. Her intension if I recall was going to be to stroke them back on thinly with the latest dye product.  But after one more cocktail or so, she used a wide brush similar to liquid shoe polish applicators, and applied one wide near black strip above each of my eyes.  I do remember this but not the details of the dye removal process.  Must have been traumatic is all I can figure.  For who you say? Both of us I presume.  She did the dastardly deed because I appeared to have no eyebrows. Meaning she meant well but once again under the influence.

Morning came and went. It was spent visiting an old old Jr. High School friend I had not seen in years.  She was attending the University of Texas earning a degree in philosophy.  I figured good for her.... but in my head I could have told her and others what I'd learned in my life so far, which surely could have been enough to present me with a paper called a degree. Or so I thought.  Of course I kept that little tid bit to myself.  I had learned what a good southern girl should do. It was called "hush yourself. " Listen and smile. And so I did which made for a glorious afternoon of ice tea and gossip.

I found myself gladly driving back towards My grandparents home after such a superficial luncheon with my old friend who had fallen into the clutches of "Yes sir southern belle with no brain or say of her own."   Southern belle was an action not included in my mid-western brain activity.

My mind was on how Duke was doing and how I would miss my Grandparents when I finally decided when to head west.  A part of me was still sitting in that southern royalty bullpen. The one granddaddy wanted me to jump onto and ride for a lifetime called 8 seconds. You know?  In Texas terms that is how long the rodeo bull rider has to stay on the bull to win the prize. I had fallen in love at first sight with the Governor of Texas Grandson, Bill Conally, but I wasn't sure I could stay on the ride, or if I would truly love the forever prize.

When I arrived at 4202 Bradwood Road there was Billy.  Sitting outside in his fancy sportscar.  The butterflies were flying overtime in a sudden flash of butterfly stomach flooding.  In fact I thought I might barf.  I did not barf....I did the deep breathing or you'll die that I always did on bridges over water so I wouldn't pass out, go off the road into the drink and die. I pulled my car into the parking area out back of the house and slowly walked up the long driveway towards Billy Connally, my fiance who never properly asked me to marry him. Nor had I been presented with a ring of any sort. Not a plastic cigar band, or even a dime store fake. Nothing. Rather he introduced me as his fiance at a negro funeral up in the hills overlooking lake Travis.  Maybe that is how the rich and privedged did things. You know, believing they could and would have whatever they wanted.  Like they had a magic wand full of fairy dust they could sprinkle over someone, and then that someone's eyes and heart would only see the good in them.  Well my eyes did not conform to Billy Connally's magic rich and royal Texas dust. No... being the half breed I was, I had strong Midwestern old fashioned values as well as a mind I called my own. To be shared not controlled.

Billy was leaning on his car with his arms and legs crossed.  I could see he had closed himself off.  God he was a handsome creature of God's making.  God must have gotten up real early to have perfected that specimen of a man.  The longer I stared at him on my walk up the long driveway the more I realized I was losing mental and emotional ground regarding my decision to leave him.  His eyes were looking directly into mine.  Surely he could see and or sense my trembling.  Just as I had trembled that day in the hills overlooking the beautiful lake where I laid on the blanket naked, the sun glistening off the tiny beads of perspiration on my body showing evidence of the deep sensual lovemaking that had just taken place.  I felt as though I might faint as I relived it in its entirity.  Every gentle kiss.  The movement of his soft hands and mouth over my entire body until I cried out in total surrender to this man.  God he was beautiful.  And then, there I was, standing before the tall handsome cowboy Billy.  All I wanted at that moment was for him to take me in his arms and hold me forever.  But he didn't.  He stared at me for what seemed an eternity.  His eyes were not the warm caring eyes I had come to know nor were they the eyes of the man I had just made love to in my mind.  They were cold.  Maybe even a bit angry.  Oh fudge I felt like a child who had misbehaved.

And then he said sternly, "Get in the car Julianna!"

I responded in a rather timid whiny voice,, "But I have to take Duke out."

Billy slowly turned back toward me and once again said sternly, "Get in the car. We have unfinished business Julianna. Duke will be fine."  And then he stared at me until I slid down onto the leather seat at which time he closed the door.  Rather forecably I noted.

We drove to the edge of the city on the main Expressway. All the while in awkward silence.  And then onto some backwoods Texas country roads I was not familiar with.  I had begun to feel uneasy. Like I was riding with a stranger.  That is when I got the courage to speak up.

"Where are we're going Billy?"

He answered simply, "To the ranch."

As I look back I recall my brain feeling like Humpty Dumpty after he fell off the wall. My thoughts were steadily unraveling as my imagination took off.  How well did I really know this man?  Could he be crazy mad and murder me out in the wilderness of central Texas?  No one would ever find me.  And Duke, what about Duke?  That is when I started to cry.  I tried to hide it by looking out the window but Billy knew.  He pulled the car over to the side of the road and shut the engine off.  I thought surely he wouldn't kill me right there out in the open.  This was almost as bad a situation in my head as crossing the Mississippi River on the dreadful draw bridge.

He looked at me and said, "Stop it."

I sat up proudly, looked at him and said like a child, "You stop it!"

And as usual we broke out in momentary laughter.  I hoped the curse was broken but I was wrong. Billy started the car and peeled gravel as we fishtailed back out onto the old country road.

My mind was back.  Somehow it had put Humpty Dumpty back together again and he was mad.  So mad Humpty and Julianna screamed at Billy to pull the car over, they were getting out.

Billy said, "Oh no your not."

My response was if he did not stop the car and let me out I would jump out, at which time I reached for the door handle.

I was shocked at his response.  He ignored my threat to jump out and began ranting and raving about Roger, Joseph Justice, his Grandfather, politics, and how could he ever marry a lying woman, even if he loved her to the moon.  Why did I not tell him his Grandfathers best friend and hunting buddy deposited a gift of one million dollars into my bank account. Did I have any idea what a fool I had made of him with everyone?  And so the rant went on.  All about Billy Connally and his Texas manhood.  The manly man rant seemed to be winding down a bit  when we came to a wooden framed gated entrance to the Connally home ranch.  Billy got out, unlocked the wide security gate, opened it to the side, got back in, but not before I once again was taken away by his near perfect physique.  I had to stop doing that to keep a clear head.

His car bounced over the cattle grate onto the long gravel road toward the ranch.  Dust was flying behind us like a Kansas dust storm.  Sometimes I think that makes men feel powerful.  Kicking up dust like a stallion or straddling a motorcycle like its his woman.  Billy was on his home turf and it was obvious.  In my mind he might as well have been out in the yard territorialy pissin' on all the trees showing me whose boss. I might have laughed but I knew this story wasn't over yet.  I would explain it all to him when he settled down some.  Mostly I was concerned about Duke.

Just then I looked up and there was the most beautiful two story white colonial ranch house with four white pillars.  The yard was landscaped to perfection.  A few hundred yards away was a guest house resembling my Grandparents home.  There were bunkhouses for the ranch hands.   Horse barns, cattle shoots, and cowboys on horses all about the place.  I was beginning to think I was out of my league.  And then I recall coming back to my senses.  That is when I saw two black limos parked on the opposite side of the house.  My nightmare had just begun once again.  How could Billy do this to me?  He could because he hadn't learned to think about the feelings of others.  He was still a man-boy.

I had to decide which half of the Julianna half breed was going to be present at the confrontational judgment ring between Joseph Justice, the esteemed Governor of Texas, his Grandson Bill Connally, and in the other corner, me.  Would I be the Northern Wisconsin speak your mind girl. Or the apologetic hush your mouth Southern belle.

Billy opened the front door, and we walked into the ring.




Monday, June 23, 2014

Chapters messed up...

I know I have my chapters numbers off. 
Decided not to make a Part II.  Just haven't fixed it yet.
One more chapter to end Part I.......Working on it!

Sunday, June 22, 2014

The Cardboard Box. Part II Chapter ............."The Secret" Property of Diane Ogden

As hard as I tried no sleep came for me. Only heavy thinking. At one point I got up quietly so not to wake the Grandparents and snuck out to the porch where Duke was and brought him quietly inside through the living room onto my room to sleep with me. He was always a comfort. If my Nana knew I put Duke in that expensive satin covered bed she would tell me how tacky I had been. But then Nana was a true southern woman and I was only a half breed. Meaning I was raised half my life in Austin and half in Northern Wisconsin. I locked my bedroom door just in case the Grands might open it to check on me and see the Duker on the pink satins. They might lose their cool.

We woke up in the early morning hours to Nana's knock on the bedroom door. Freak me out or what. I told her I would be out after I washed up. She then asked me where Duke was. Freak me out twice isn't nice so early in the morning! I told her I had gotten him in around dawn when I heard him whining. I was sorry but I was afraid he might be sick and wanted to observe him. Nana said she didn't want any dog throwing up in her house. I assured her he wasn't drueling. She seemed satisfied or just gave up and moved on past it to her kitchen.

While I was washing up the smell of bacon in the air called my name loud and clear as it always had at the Bradwood Street home. That time the bacon had to wait as Duke needed to find a new grassy area to relieve himself. I swear he sniffed half the blades of grass and every tree in the yard plus the monkey grass that edged the entire house which seemed the size of a plantation by the time he finished. And then he would start that process all over searching for a poo spot.

I had been unusually impatient that day because I was apprehensive Billy would show up as usual brown nosing my Grandparents..... before I could make my escape. I truly was in need of some solitude. Some soul searching time. Some peace for a change.

When Duke finally finished his podie poo maze about the yard I raced tback to the kitchen, Duke at a close pace beside me, downed a piece of bacon while standing without so much as a glance at Duke who was staring at me with hunger in his eyes. All I could think of was running away. Anywhere Billy wouldn't find me. As I darted past Nana toward the door, she stopped me with a gentle but firm hold!

"What is going on with you child? Now come on back over here and have a sit down and tell me the truth." She asked in that deep southern Texas drawl.

I told her everything as I cried breathlessly huge crocodile tears. I used to think that wasn't possible. That is was an old saying, but I truly whaled some Texas size teardrops as I belted out everything that had happened to me since I left Northern Wisconsin. I told her Granddaddy was going to think I was the dumbest blonde in the midwest and the south. He had his sites set on my marrying the Governor's grandson and living a life of luxury.

She said, "Don't you worry darlin, I'll handle your Grandfather."

I dried my eyes, ate more bacon, then Duke and I left in the Cadi. I wasnt sure which direction to go but soon intended on the quiet nearby Shopping Center. There was a Henderson's Grocery Store, a Camera Shop, a soda fountain, a small dress shop I had purchased a number of nice Ship n Shore blouses at, and a Cafeteria. I parked the Cadi in the shade when I noticed off to the side, sitting on an old bench in front of the camera shop were two elderly men. I had some films that needed developing from my trip so I mosied on over in that direction. I greeted the old fellows with my usual smile, hiding all the noises trapsing through my brain cells no one could hear but me. I asked if they would mind tending to Duke while I took my films inside for developing.  Those old fellows were so taken by a pretty young girl in white shorts and pink cowboy boots they're eyes twinkled like stars as they graciously agreed  to watch the ole boy. Duke seemed equally happy to be in their charge.

After entering the camera shop I found myself alone. No one in sight.  I wandered around for some time looking at all tne different sizes and shaped cameras.  Then a man came out from the back of the store pologizing for me having to wait. He told me he didn't hear the bell on the door ring.  He took my films and carefully placed them in envelopes with my name and address on each. He told me when they would be finished for pickup and we exchanged thank you's. I was almost out the door when the man, Mr. Litchfield, who turned out to be the owner, asked me if I had seen the new polaroid instant camera's. I stopped, turned around surprisedly to give him my undivided attention. I presumed Mr. Litchfield had a reason for striking up a new conversation with me considering at this point I was on my way out the door, not in the door. He asked me if I would mind if he took a picture of me with the new fangled camera Kodak was marketing. I recall wondering if he might be a bit on the wierd side, but then I figured what could it hurt. I smiled as he clicked the photo button. The boxy camera made a strange mechanical sound and then out came a small square piece of paper from the camera's belly.

I said, "Whoa, now that is nifty. I think."

He then put the small square piece of paper between his legs. Again my mind took off with the instantaneous word wierdo. I did ask him what he was doing and he responded by telling me it was in the instruction book to put the paper in a warm place which would enhance the development process of the photo.  For instance,
Under your arm, between your legs, or to sit on it. Within about sixty seconds or so he pulled out the paper from between his thighs, rubbed a stick of oil on it and showed me a perfectly developed photo of myself. I was giddy and giggling. I told Mr. Litchfield I would have to have one of those fancy smancy Polaroids. Then he asked me if I would mind him taking some shots of me and the old fellows out front of his store. And so out we went. Those old fellows had one of the best times of their lives smiling and laughing with me and Duke and Mr. Litchfield. He ran out of room between his legs to develope all his shots. I followed him back into his shop like a puppy dog chasing a bone. I wanted to see all those fun immediately developed pictures. And I did, and they were wonderful. They exuded sheer happiness and fun. Mr. Litchfield reached under the counter bringing up a piece of paper and setting it on the counter. He asked me if I would sign a release form for these photos to be used in a nationwide advertising campaign for Kodak's new Polaroid Camera. I did not hesitate a nono second. I signed on the dotted line as did the older gentlemen. I also had to sign one for Duke being his owner.

Mr. Litchfield told me he would be working on enlarging one of the photos to be presented to the Kodak people and if I would like to return later in the day he would have it ready for my viewing. I was so excited of course I said yes. I figured he must have his own developing room. Most camera shops did. And then I realized how hungry I was.

Duke and I went to 2J's Hamburger stand. As I was standing in line I noticed Duke looking at me with a different look then his usual. It was then that I realized in my fit of overwhelming stress that morning, I had forgotten to fill his food dish.  Guilt racked me for a minute or two until I ordered us each two hamburgers, fries, a Dr. Pepper for me and cup of water for Duker. He was one happy dog needless to say. We sat under a big old tree a ways away from the picnic benches full of people. I was yet to find that place I needed called alone.  My brain needed a rest.

When we finished eating I stuffed the hamburger and fry wrappers inside the bag and stuck it behind my back as there was no way I would be rising from this spot for a while for any reason other then a fire. My tumbelly was full, Dukes was full, and we had finally found a quiet spot in life under a tree. I fell sound asleep sitting up leaning on that tree. I had never fallen asleep in public before. I may have done other things under a tree in public, but not that one.

I was woke to the sound of a man's voice saying, "Maam, is this here dog yours?"

I rubbed my eyes and apologized for falling asleep. Who apologizes to a stranger for falling asleep under a tree? Me! He proceded to tell me he was afraid Duke might run off or he wouldnt have disturbed me. Once again I apologized and thanked the man even though I knew Duke would never run off from me. Actually he just went off to pee. Again I thanked the man, got up onto my feet, threw our trash in the can marked trash, and checked my watch. I had slept a long time. Its a wonder no one called the authorities to check to see if I was dead. It was because most people don't imagine a person sleeping under a tree might be dead, like I do.

We drove back to the camera shop, stopping for a gas refill for the Cad. The young man that filled my tank and washed my windows was decked out handsome. I couldnt beleive I was staring at another man when I should be planning a wedding that no one asked to me to be in. If I hadn't stopped my mind right then and there I would have lost my cool and taken to bawling as I had with Nana earlier in the day.

I pulled into the shopping center not far from the Grandparents, parked the Cadillac, got Duke out, and as we walked over to the Camera Shop I saw my smiling face, the old men, and Duke's picture all blown up big in the front window. I started screaming and running to Mr. Litchfield camera shop door. He heard me coming and greeting me with a big hug.


He said, "Do you like it dearie?"

I said, "Are you kidding, is this for real?"

"Oh yes, Miss Julianna, and I have a sneaking hunch Kodac will pick this photo for its nationwide advertisment promo for the new polaroid camera."

I screamed again. Duke was dancing around trying to figure out whether to be scared or happy. He hadn't ever seen me act like that before. Maybe I hadn't ever seen me act this way before either.

Mr. Litchfield handed me the initial polaroid photo for my keeping. I could hardly wait to get back home to show Nana and Grandad. But when I arrived no one was there. Nana had left me a note saying Grandad was waiting for a phone call from me as soon as I returned home.

I called and when he answered I could hardly contain my good news. He listened but his demeanor was off. He hardly responded at all but added he would be picking me up shortly. To get myself ready.

I said, "For what?"

He did not answer before I heard the click of the receiver.

He arrived and told me we were going down to his office. He opened the car door for me and I slid onto the leather seats of his new Oldsmobile which he traded every year for anther new one. On the drive he was very quiet. I told him about the ad with Kodak and the only thing he said was, "What are they paying you?"

I told him I had signed a release for Kodak to use the photo.

He said, "Humph. Figures."

I could not understand the coldness in the air. His sudden detachment from me. Maybe Nana had told him everything and he did not take it well. What was I in for?

We arrived at the office. I had always enjoyed going there. The smell of the leather chairs, the imaculate walls and floors. Fireplaces in the waiting room and his executive office. The western theme was a theme I had always preferred.  My childhood bedroom wasn't a princess room, rather it was six guns, teepees, and cowboys and Indians.

Duke laid down quietly in a corner as if he knew to pretend to be invisible. Grandad pointed to a burgany wingback chair across from his desk for me to have a seat.  When he sat in his  very much larger brown leather office chair, he seemed to tower over me. Personally I believe that was an intentional interior forethought design to maintain his power and authority.  Basically it kept him in control.

We sat. And when he opened his mouth in his firm southern gentleman's way,  what came out would forever remain in the cells of my brain's life memories.  A more condensed version could be summed up in one word.  Shock!   My Granddad, as he towered above me in his big leather chair, while looking into my eyes more deeply then  I had ever experienced, sternly asked why I had not told him about the million dollars in my bank account.

I said, "WHAT. Where did you ever hear such nonsense?"

He told me Governor Connally came to him with this news earlier that day.

It was at that point that I stood up and he firmly ordered me to sit down.

I said, " How would he know such a thing, if I dont know such a thing, even though it is not true."

Granddad said, "Because he was doing a background check on you after his grandson, Billy, shared his intention to marry you."

I said, "Granddaddy, he didn't even ask me! He introduced me as his finace at a Negro funeral of his best friends father yesterday. I havent even known him for but a month or less."

I could tell what I had just said hadn't sank into my Grandfather's head yet.

"Okay. fine. But don't sit there and lie to my face about the million dollars Julianna."

I squeeled, "But Granddad I don't know anything about a million dollars."

"Well apparently Joseph Justice deposited a million dollars in your bank account for taking care of his son Roger. Maybe that will ring a bell in your head." My Grandfather informed me coldly.

That is when I broke down sobbing while blubbering the entire story through tears and a half a box of kleenex tissues. I told Granddad how I picked up a thumber in Illinois who turned out to be what I thought was kidnapped, helped him escape from two truckers named Uncle Biggs and Becker, ran into a ghost from the "Outer Edge," passed out from fear, crossed a horrible bridge and you know I hate bridges over water Granddaddy, and then I got arrested and put in the pokey with twelve hookers. Bambi took care of me but I fell and got a concussion trying to see out the window at the big city lights. They took me to the hospital and impouded put my Pink Cadi in a big car cage. The judge saw all those girls and let them go but kept me for a long time. It wasn't legal but Rogers dad paid them all off to keep me away from Roger because he was wanted by the feds for fleeing from Michigan or Minnesota because he is spoiled and refused to wait for his family to pick him up. That is when I picked him up and all that happened to me plus a lot more. I even stayed at the JBJ Cattle and Oil ranch in Tulsa until I recovered from passsing out again because the concussion wasnt healed when JBJ picked me up in his limo while I was on my way to get my car out of the impound. And I didnt want to disappoint you by not marrying Billy but I dislike being controlled by him. I cant think for myself, dress myself, have any time to myself. And all this has made me very nervous."

He reiterated what a good life I would have if I married Billy. I reminded him of his life. How Nana could have married Gene Autrey, the moviestar and singer, and had an amazing life. But she chose him instead. Him who didnt have two plug nickels to his name. But who had an amazing sense of humor and explicit manners. And probably a few other things I wouldnt know about or even want to.

Granddad quietly apologized for his demeanor and mentioned how he thought I had signed off Kodak because I knew I had million dollars. After a momentary understanding giggle, I told him how I enjoyed making people happy. Laughing and meeting all sort of new and different people. Just like he did. I got a laugh out of him at that one.

Then I stood up again, at which time he let me and I spouted off asking how can people just get into my bank account? Then I sat down and said nevermind as long as they are depositing and not taking out I guess its fine. And we laughed again.

Granddad unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out his fifth of Canadian Club. Poured us each a shot and we toasted to the end of the confusion and the beginning of the end of Billy. As the whisky went down I could feel the burning cleansing of all that had tried to take me down. That is when Granddad poured another shot for himself and a half a shot for me.... I looked over at Duke who sat up and groaned as if to say enough now. Grandad and I laughed til we had tears. Then we toasted to the much earned one million dollars in my bank account.

He then added, "Although I will miss not being part of the Texas royalty honey."

I told him he was the King in my world and always would be no matter who my Prince charming ended up being.

Now all I had to do was face one more difficult task. Telling Billy who never listened.