This time it is my parents. They are at it again. Abba and Ima are fighting. Not just fighting but screaming at each other. Screaming so loud the the entire village hears them.
They embarrass me. Is it not bad enough that I have problems with the villagers? Do they have to cause more discomfort? They do it at almost every sunrise and all I want to do is hide. But of course, I cannot. I have to stand there and listen until they finish.
I guess I would not care if they were quieter. They say I embarrass them but never consider how their fights affect me. The other kids hear it and taunt me all day. They are mean and make me wish I could run away and hide or live somewhere else. But, I am stuck where I am.
I apologize for having to write about all this bad stuff but that is what my days, my life is about. That is how it goes. I must admit it makes me sad and I cry a lot. Not where my parents can see or hear, but in some far corner. Usually after a whole day of grinding the flour when I want to play my harp.
That’s how it is.
From now on I will try hard to talk to you on Tuesdays every week. That is if Ima does not find more chores for me to do.
Please help me understand if there is a way to feel better about my life. I swear that sometimes I just want to end it all.
Again I have to say I am sorry. Stomach, vomit, and you know what else continue over and over every day. This has been my life since I last wrote to you. I don’t dare tell Ima I am feeling a little better. She will insist that I( do my chores and again and I don’t have the strength. I really don’t. It’s not a lie – but she won’t see it that way.
Can I tell you another secret? The other morning I was walking toward the trenches yet again, when I really nice looking boy passed by. He tossed his head of long brown hair streaked white in places the sun chose to honor. He waved at me and I waved back. He smiled.
He must be a visitor. No one in our village would do that. He was so friendly. But let’s face it. No one in our village wants me. Not one man or boy. They all believe there is something wrong with me. That I am weird because I look like I am talking to the air when I speak to my guide, Sandalphon. I must face the fact that I will never have a husband. Or children. I am doomed to be alone.
I started this blog by telling you a number of different things, but told you nothing about me – that’s what the name of my blog infers I will do.
As you know or have surmised I was a psychologist for thirty years which I loved doing, and am soon to be an author – but there is so much more. I had so many different jobs or careers, or whatever you want to call them that I want to name my second book “It Was One Helluva Ride.”
I was born and bred in New York City, the Bronx, to be exact and as was expected, I married at eighteen and had three children, two boys and a girls. What was not expected was my divorcing my husband after eighteen years of marriage. Divorce was a dirty word back then and brought shame to the whole family.
I took a job as a bookkeeper in a candy factory to supplement the alimony I was getting. What I really wanted was to sing opera. I did a number of performances with different companies and wanted to do more. But on my own with three children…
I got bored with the same numbers day after day and pictured myself years in the future doing the same thing. Not what I loved. I managed to find a few places to sing and that gave me the courage to quit the factory. Singing jobs were few and did not pay a lot so I decided to audition for the extra chorus with the New York City Opera Company. I knew the man doing the audition from jobs I did with him. My singing went well. Usually the auditioner does not talk to the person standing in front of him. He surprised me by saying, “What are you doing here? You are a soloist.”
“I am still a mother and now divorced. I need the money,” I replied
I held back my tears until I was out of the room. You can’t be a soloist if you do chorus work. I had to feed my kids. That dream was over.
PS: Next time I’ll add a photo. Right now I’m on a cruise celebrating my daughter’s birthday.
Have a Great Day!!
While I believe that the Mayo clinic has much to offer, I do not agree that there is only one way to help Hypoglycemia, which is what they seem to be stating on their site. According to my own experience and those of the many clients I saw, there are many different ways to health and each person has to find their own. Suggestions are fine, but in the end we are all different and must accept and find what suits our own body.
For instance, they suggest eating 6 meals a day instead of three. While that may work for some. It didn’t work for me. It was not enough food and I got horrible headaches. I compromised by having three regular meals and one healthy snack at around four o’clock. I can’t tell you how many years ago that was because it was so long ago I don’t remember.
They also write that you will start a food co-op, a baking circle, a veggie social club and common garden. While those are nice thoughts, how many of us are in a position to do that – or have any interest in doing that. It is true that you have fewer trips to the grocery store and your meals cost less. Needless to say – they are also healthy. I’ve been doing this for thirty years and my doctor can’t believe my exams, they are so good.
Mayo also claims that hummus will be tasty, thrilling and make you the talk of the town. Your pals will swoon. Come on Mayo – isn’t that a bit much? What I can say is that if you are creative you can still make wonderful and tasty meals. I am lazy about cooking. I admit it. What I found for myself was that frozen vegetables are the easiest and healthiest because they are flash frozen.
Twice a day I choose my veggies and sauté them. I add some frozen onions and peppers, and a small quantity of quinoa or millet. When cooked, I drizzle my favorite salad dressing of the day over them and Voila! A tasty meal.
You can get healthier. If you have questions or need help, please hop on over to my website ireneckessler.com, make a comment and fill out the contact sheet. I will get back to you as soon as possible.
Happy and Healthy living can be yours.
My parents keep telling me I’m stupid and for the first time I think they are right. I was working in the fields with my brother, Nathan, and Ima forgot to bring the libation. I was so thirsty I went to the stream and had only the smallest sip.
By the evening I was writhing in pain. My stomach was angry. For the first part of the night I hardly slept. Then the explosion threatened and I ran out of the hut as far as I could. I spent the rest of the night there while my stomach emptied out everything I ever ate in my whole life.
I should have known better. I did know better. They told me, they warned me. But I was too lazy to go back to the hut. When will I learn? How many mistakes do I have to make? Why am I so lazy?
I do not have any answers right now. I take that back. I did learn one thing. I will never drink from the spring. Never Again.
I have not forgotten you. I am not well – it’s not horrible – just a double sinus infection – one on both sides of my face. They give me a headache that feels like the Empire State Building in New Your is sitting on my head and won’t let me think.
But I’ll be baaack- and hopefully soon.
Does your mother beat you? Mine does. Most of the mothers here do. Don’t they know how much it hurts? My Ima hits me with a broom made from branches and leaves. That hurts so much when the broken branches stick into my skin and make me bleed. Ima seems to think that it’s all right to do that. Sometimes I can’t stand up straight when she finishes. Why is she so mean? Am I such a bad girl?
I try hard to please her but it never seems to work. Even my father ignores what she does and never says a word to stop her. I would run away but there is no place to go. And being out in the wilderness is dangerous and scary. Besides the animals can eat you, and there are bandits everywhere. I would never want to meet one of them. The men here caught one a long time ago. He was trying to steal whatever he could. They beat him until he couldn’t stand up and threw him out of the village even though he was bleeding all over the place. I don’t think he is still alive. Probably eaten by the animals.
Whoops. Gotta go and get the flour made for the day’s food. Hate doing this. The grinding with a flat rock makes my hands hurt really bad.
3-4 cups dices squash (about 2 lb.)
1 1/2 tsp. olive oil
Salt to taste
1 cup cooked quinoa 1 cup chopped kale
3 Tbsp. walnuts
2 Tbsp. dried cranberries
2 Tbsp. pumpkin seeds
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. maple syrup
1 1/2 tsp. rice vinegar
1/8 tsp. nutmeg
Juice of 1 Lime
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In large bowl toss squash with olive oil and salt. Pour onto baking sheet and roast 15-20 min, or tender. Set aside to cool. In a small bowl, whisk together all dressing ingredients until combined. When cool, place squash back in bowl. Add quinoa, kale, walnuts, cranberries and pumpkin seeds. Stir to combine. Just before serving, pour dressing over salad and toss to coat.
THE DIET; Whole grains (especially the high protein like quinoa or millet) combined with salads, sprouts, avocados, nuts, seeds, vegetables, and between meals, fruits and once or twice a week, (no more, for it’s high in fat, and clogs colon,) raw, whole milk or milk products like home-made yogurt as all of these things are storage receptacles for solar energy and fountains of mysterious vital curative powers which we call vitamins.
And if you can get a 30$ juicer at the discount store, let’s add raw juiced celery, carrots, parsley, beet mixtures.
WILL I LIKE EATING THIS WAY?
It will be the adventure of your lifetime. Your Veggie Burger will be succulent. Your sandwich spread made of sesame and garbanzo, (called ‘hummus’ in the middle East), will be tasty, thrilling and make you the talk of the town. Your party meals of savory veggie casseroles served with green salads will make your pals swoon. You will start a food co-op, a baking circle, a veggie social club and common garden and through all these fun, new activities meet other higher minded people.
Plus, these foods require less trips to the grocery, take the same time as meat cookery, and can be stored easily and unfrozen at time of need. They are all ‘from scratch’ hence less costly than supermarket food. Lastly, you get 6 meals a day, not 3.
This is not my usual kind of post. But I found this piece a while ago and found it thought-provoking. It is Not mine and is long but worth it. I will post this in two parts. The strange part is that only a while after reading it did I realize that my name Irene means peace in Greek. The only change I made is from British English to American.
What do you understand by the word peace? What words in your language refer to ‘peace’? What are the meanings associated with the concept?
Peace can be envisioned in many ways, philosophical, poetic, linguistic, sociological. For example, in May 2001 the American writer Susan Sontag was awarded the Jerusalem Prize in West Jerusalem. In her acceptance speech she addressed the question of what was understood by the term peace in the context of the ongoing violent conflict between Israel and the Palestinians. Do we mean an absence of strife? Do we mean a forgetting? Do we mean a forgiveness? Or do we mean a great weariness, an exhaustion, an emptying out of rancor?
It seems to me that what most people mean by ‘peace is victory.That’s what ‘peace’ means to them. While to others peace means defeat. If the idea takes hold that peace, while in principle to be desired, entails an unacceptable renunciation of legitimate claims, then the most plausible course will be the practice of war … Calls for peace will be felt to be, if not fraudulent, then certainly premature. Peace becomes a space people no longer know how to inhabit.
Diana Francis refers to peace as a space for human striving. She expresses this by quoting a poem that she copied when it was attached to the fence surrounding the American cruise missile base in Britain at Greenham Common in the 1980s:
Say no to peace if what they mean by peace Is the quiet misery of hunger
The frozen stillness of fear
The silence of broken spirits
The unborn hopes of the oppressed.
Tell them that peace Is the shouting of children at play The babble of tongues set free The thunder of dancing feet And a father’s voice singing. Quoted in Diana Francis, ‘Conflict Transformation – from Violence to Politics’
It is important to recognize that different cultures attach different shades of meaning to the concept of peace. We can gain some insight from the words for peace in various languages.
Pax – Latin: a pact, with the implication of a contractual element. Tacitus the Roman historian of the conquest of Britain ironically described the achievements of a victorious general ‘He made a wasteland and called it peace.’ The term Pax Romana Americana usually refers to an absence of war through the imposition of order by a dominant power.
Sala’m – – Arabic: peace with justice/ order/ following the right path of God.
Shalom – Hebrew: connotations of wholeness, integrity, harmony – coexistence of opposites through acceptance of difference. Beyond absence of war to embrace notions of continuous growth of all creative human powers.
Shanti -Sanskrit: equanimity, spiritual peace, oneness with Divine, non-attachment, self-realisation.
Heping- Chinese: harmony within and without; stability and order