My family traveled like gypsies across the North American continent and Pow Wow visiting was a part of this. For reasons I cannot recall, as a young girl I called them wow pow’s and still do so respectfully to this day. I cherish most of these memories of a time ago with my family as I continue to travel the Pow Wow trail with now a family of my own in tow.

We just came off another Wow Pow gathering and it brought us a collection of kisses, tears, giggles and coffee sticks. 

I don’t travel to them to dance, sing or drum for mine is for every other reason to attend so it would seem. As a young girl I enjoyed the roaming freedom each country road side visit held for us. We ran about aimlessly unattended and more concerned about finding our next quarter we could beg off from Aunts and Uncles. We played tag, hide and go seek in the dark, giggled at nonsense and more than likely made a nuisance of ourselves. 

Sometimes and every so often we paid attention to our backdrop and it was not because someone told us to either. At times a moment would come over the crowd and it was hard not to notice it. You knew well enough to stay quiet until required so you wouldn’t get into trouble from the closest available adult in your presence.

So we did.

We stood still and watched them without watching, well at least I did.

I know some of the ceremonies we attended were “different” from the others and I knew this much more often before we even arrived to wherever it was we were going. This observation had everything to do with how our Mother packed our bags, or the car and most often what she baked before we even left anywhere.

For each journey held its own unique energy to be noted for clues if one was so wise to care. May it have been in the air  that lingered in our face or in the sunset that went on forever to somewhere but with these clues I knew for certain that wherever our destination it would involve matters for the adults.

Someone was sick,  someone was dying or someone was already dead.

I much preferred the celebrations and the turning of the seasons so we could laugh it up and cause more mischief than we could imagine.

My first kiss as a young girl was at a Pow Wow under the bleachers at night from a little brown eyed boy. I saw him again the following spring at the same Pow Wow and waited impatiently for him to notice me. He finally gained the nerve to note my attendance but did so by running past me a million miles an hour to only pinch my arm. I fell so madly in love within that moment that I vowed to never wash my newly bruised arm. I showed it off to my much older sister like a metal of honor that year. She continues to read much more into this moment than I, as older sisters do I suppose.

Coming home again from a long week of Wow Pow, my mind swims with so many deep memories of a child hood no longer available to me or now my own children.

So much on the trail has changed.

Today I find many of the Pow Wow’s a sport of some sort  with big money prizes and everyone is selling you an authentic dream catcher. I so easily slip into wicked tongue with my observations which is only a mask for my broken heart for a time that may never be again and that my children will never come to know, not the way I once knew it. While all that may be true with big new arenas and big sponsor money the one thing that has never changed about these gatherings is the time we get to be together.

It no matter what part of this continent I may find myself on or new Pow Wow trail I travel there is always a familiar face there, may it be an old friend or even foe but almost with certainly I can enjoy the company of a cousin or two hanging out at the Wow Pow. It is in these moments of catching up with one another with kisses and hand shakes, with giggles and sometimes even tears as we gasp with the news on the trail that has finally caught up to us.

So perhaps…just perhaps…something’s never do change.

It is this time of being together with my family and the cousins that I will continue to go and travel the Wow Pow’s. We know better than anyone how much or what has changed for us as a people but being together may it be in the field on a muddy Sunday afternoon 30 years ago or in a warm lit arena only days ago…it no matter… for we are together.

So there we are.

Together.

In celebration of Life.

In celebration of our people.

Free of opinions.

That is until you get up to grab your next $5.00 coffee than one see’s the “opinions” and “Life” for what it is.

So you note it, run back to your seat to share a giggle and than send your kids back up to the coffee stand 20 more times to ask for another free coffee stick.

Than you giggle some more until you cry.

Hokey Hey!

In an unexpected turn of events I find myself home alone on the farm for the next few days. While what may appear to be an uninteresting enough of a claim to others, for me it is close to remarkable. I can count on one hand how many times I have been alone here in the last three years.

This is one of them.

My family only left this morning yet it already feels like days ago. This old house usually hums with our activity and the silence I am sitting in is rather unnerving. Even the birds are particularly quiet this evening.

The kids were mainly concerned what I would do home alone for four days without them. They all left me little wish lists in case I needed something to do! Oh those little darlings of mine!

Yet really, what to do with myself without the family home? I planned out a zillion projects so far and have yet to bother with one of them. I ran into to town quickly early this morning to stock up on my party for one necessity’s. I bought all the things that I would not usually purchase with the kids home. I will have to make sure the double fudge ice cream carton is emptied and hidden before they get back!

I also went to the village church and ran downstairs to rummage through the book piles for quarter a piece. I threw my dollar in the jar and walked out with three of the cheesiest romance novels I could find to dwindle away a few hours with guilty pleasure. The book covers themselves can pass off for light porn so I will need to ensure I tuck them tightly into the book case out of sight. I think I would faint if one of my serious academic too smart for me types ever found them!

I swallowed up one already today and am so relieved that the charming and rustic man of all man’s "Jack" went back to Texas to search out his beloved "Claudia" and realized that he loved her passionately all along. I even cried a bit and than giggled that I cried. I have a good feeling that the other two will play out the same!

I also promised myself not to do any house chores in the next few days as a treat to myself. My dishes will be allowed to pile on top of each other, floors will be kept full of crumbs and beds gone unmade. So far all the beds are made, dishes tucked away and floors have been swept and washed!

I have not made dinner for one in years and can see it takes time to adjust.

Earlier this evening I was sweeping my mats on my porch and than it occurred to me. I am in the middle of a movie, The Bridges of Madison County. I really am dawned in some old farm dress I made myself, it could have been stolen off the movie set.

Look at me so Francesca Johnson like!

Although I am not from Italy and I don’t have an accent. And the family is not at the Illinois State Fair to show a prized cow but they did leave with a horse! And the likely hood of Clint Eastwood showing up to make my day is way out there!

I did hear the rumble of a motorcycle on the highway which is an odd sound out my way. One would have to be lost to drive on our roads out here!

Perhaps my cheesy romance book soaked in my head!

Perhaps I will sit on Gaia for the next few days and bug everybody!

Perhaps I will scrape off this hundred year old wallpaper after all!

Perhaps I will blog endlessly on the subject of cheesy romance cover novels!

Perhaps I will do nothing and everything much like Robert Kincaid and Francesca’s love affair.

Or perhaps…much like this blog...

just nothing.

This one is for you my fellow Gain Friends…

… for those who reached out my way and to so many others.

… for those who shared their life stories and left an ever unknowing 

     impression upon me.

… for those who trusted in our friendship enough to open up behind the

     scenes.

… for those who taught me what it is I still don’t know.

… for those patient enough to come to understand me.

… for those who make me laugh, cry and even at times pace with frustration.

… for those who I have come to sincerely hold a space in my heart for.

… for those who’s words and art have moved me silently.

… for those who give me more to wonder upon.

… for those still here and to those who have silently faded away.

… for those I chatter regularly with and to those I chattered only once with.

… for those hanging out here today and to those who remain somewhere out

     there.

This one is for you my fellow Gaian Friends each and every one of you,

all 67 of you.

As some of you may know, that a fellow Gaian, Michael Sheppard died June 10, 2009. The news of his passing came late to Gaia Land, nonetheless I witnessed this community express sincere sorrow. I have already indicated that I did not exchange direct dialogue with Michael but recall his efforts in the Starseed pod and most of all the Misunderstood group. I like to think that he spoke his truth and perhaps it may not have been all of it but he was courageous enough to step forward in here with his heart and truth. I am always in admiration of folks who do.

I am stunned with the emotions I have come to experience with his passing. I have been left standing here wondering what to do with it all. I shared my news on the home front, but I understand how it cannot be sincerely understood. My family knows that Mom plays on the computer, hubby lurks out on here in a blue moon, “real” friends don’t get it and really don’t care and others just don’t get it… so it is no one but me that understands the impact that I have experienced on here to fully take it up.

For the last two days, in the moment of mundane routines the thought of Michael comes leaking in and I am trying hard to sit in silence with it to understand where these emotions are coming from. I am confused and surprised with my feelings. I mean I didn’t even know Michael. I certainly learned more about him in his death. I am most impressed and regret to have not taken my initial admiration any further with him.

There is no other place than back here on Gaia to express this, who do I tell and most of what do I say? Someone I don’t even know who hangs out on some web forum died and I am feeling rather sad about it. I cannot for the life of me understand why that sounds so strange so I assume there has to be more.

It raised several questions as well for me. Now let’s just propose…just proposing… I die…or you….how would any of us know? I have taken morning coffee now for the last year with many folks on here and it has absorbed into my life and perhaps my heart. There are a few on here as well whom I chat regularly on the phone with. Yet…they are in part a silent friendship that I only know of.

For the last 3 years I chatted on a Garden Forum with local folks and they taught me everything I know about gardening, farming, animals, canning and as far as I am concerned a whole heck about life. We are a very small group but there is no way I could be here on this farm without them or a sense of humor to go along with it. There is one lady who identifies herself as CindyLou99, I don’t even know her real name. She has never felt a need to share it nor in many ways it does not matter. This winter, very close to christmas she phoned me and said, “Hello Giselle, it is CindyLou99 and I was just wondering how your canned carrots went over?”

I told her they were terrible and no one ate them! She said, oh, too bad, we will have to come up with something else next year. And than she said good bye. I have come to love this lady CindyLou99, and can say again that I don’t even know her and yet…if something should ever happen to her…how will I know?

I suspect that I am also her silent friend in return.

Perhaps there is more in this for me and in time it will float to the top I am sure. So far it has compelled me to reach out to each of my 67 friends and say to each of you, I admire you, I respect you and am grateful for your time you have exchanged with me. While you may never know, I come along at times when you’re not looking and gander your thoughts.

Most of the time I leave nothing behind to show this but I am here my friend… and listening.

I wrote this much earlier today, actually with the sunrise…my time of the day, alone and in a quiet house with everyone still asleep. I sat upon it for the rest of the day and wondered if I would actually send it out. I struggle with this type of talk, I can share so many other things but struggle here…

I am in the garden right now and came running into the house and to let it go...

So with earth on my fingers and for whatever it is worth, I am here to say…

Thank you.

In memory of Maxi.

There is a recent frenzy brewing with Canadian musician Dave Carroll and the United Airlines. In an attempt to gain attention to his current predicament with the above-mentioned airline, he wrote a song about it and posted it on You Tube, United Breaks Guitars.  

Currently this little diddy of a number is at two million views in less than a week. He apparently pursued the company for compensation for his $3,500 Taylor guitar which was broken due to improper handling. How does he know it was them? The passengers aboard the flight including him watched in horror out the window the baggage handlers throw his guitar case around the tar mat! 

Well his idea worked and he got the attention of the airline after all and the entire Nation. Musicians around the world are applauding his efforts. United Airlines came out to play with him after all and offered the compensation fee to Dave that he has been seeking for the last year. It seems they had a change in heart. So has Dave, he doesn’t want the money anymore, he wants policy changes. 

Power to the people. You just gotta love the victory stories when the little guy wins one! Power of music. The song and video depict the scenario with humor and it is actually a decent little tune. Power of the web and how times are changing and it would do any company, business or entrepreneur out there to catch onto this. 

It got me thinking about my current situation and the two broken items I am attempting to return for repairs. In less than a week my Shark steam cleaner and Kenmore sewing machine started acting up so I phoned to their perspectives companies in desperation. I have a sneaky suspicion that Darrell the “operator” I talked to about my Shark Steamer was possibly a high school kid sitting in his bedroom making some quick cash for the summer. Or I just got pranked by the Jerky Boys, each is considerably possible. He said if I sent him $150.00, plus shipping and handling, taxes and some additional “surcharge” he would “take a look” at it for me. Once he takes a gander at it, fixed or broken, I need to send more money so he can send it back to me! I only paid $350.00 for the darn thing I explained, he replies, “so what you gonna do about it”? 

My second attempt with my Kenmore sewing machine was immediately cleared up by Ms.P my customer service agent that my warranty has expired. I pressed on anyway hoping she would throw me a bone of some sort, I would have settled for a little human compassion in the end.  All caring requirements are now expired along with my warranty. 

I explained to Ms. P that the reviews on the net I searched out flagged this particular model with the identical technical problem for many others. This is when our recorded conversation that may be used for training purposes went down the drains. She has never heard of reviews online and demanded I tell her the internet address where she could read this blasphemy. I recommended she type in the model name and can read all the reviews she wants. I don’t think she got it, I know this because this is what she said, “I have never heard of people doing this, who does this on the internet?” 

I said, “people, just like me and you.” 

Perhaps that is where she lost it at my ignorant innuendo that we were the same. She has never scripted an online review, does not know anyone who does and left me with, “well if this is the sort of thing you do.” I should have given her Dave Carroll’s You Tube address. 

This past week I am seeking out all items that claim 100% Satisfaction Guaranteed, well it turns out this little blurb is scripted on many items I carry into my house. I should feel good about this, shouldn’t I ? My hard earn money is guaranteed, I should breath a sigh of relief but I don’t and I won’t. 

I get it and I think most of us do. 

I read on my shampoo bottle “satisfaction guaranteed”! It turns out I am not all that satisfied, as no one can smell the Lilies in my hair, not even me. I wonder how much it is going to cost me to get some satisfaction. 

So what am I going to do? I don’t know just yet but Dave has inspired me. I wonder if any of those musicians in Dave’s camp are for hire?