Authentically mine…

 

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Years ago, way back in 1965, there was a movie called “The Collector” (based on the John Fowles novel) and, for some reason, I thought about this while putting thoughts together for this post.  Actually, it was a pretty terrifying movie and the only reason it popped-up in my mental index file was because of its title and the things people accumulate.  Or try to.  For one of the characters involved in this movie, sadly, what was involved with her “collection” did not end well.

We all know that, in many ways, gathering groups of items can quickly move past collecting and lurch forward into some type of obsessive, almost hoarding, behavior.  This gave me much pause for personal reflection as I started writing, took a deep breath, and quickly determined that I truly am…just a collector.  In a good way.  At least I think so.

I’ll begin.

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Snowmen.  Up in our attic there are large storage bags full of snowmen.  You know those giant, plaid, zippered ones that you can purchase at the used to be Dollar Store?  Yup, thought so.  Well, they live here, approximately 30 or so of them, and tucked inside are hundreds of irresistible snowmen which have managed to find their way home with me during the holidays; tree ornaments, figurines, music boxes, cookie jars, dinnerware, linens…and more.  And, you can bet that, when others know of your passion about having certain things, it’s inevitable the gifts you receive will be in that category.   The nice part (which I always tell myself) is that this collection is large enough to be shared with all my grandchildren.  At some point, in the distant future.  Very distant, hopefully.

I’m not done, yet.

green insulators

Insulators.  I just love them.  Truly, I do.  In shades of green, assorted shapes and sizes.  You’ve never heard of them?  I suggest you give them a Google and learn about their history and collectability.  Pick up a few at a local antique shop or at a summer flea market, put one of those little LED tea lights under them on a table for a charming and fun display.  And, no.  I do not have bags of them stored away, just a reasonable amount scattered here and there or sitting on a window ledge.  Honestly, that’s it.

I’m still not done.

Kitchen cookbooks

Cookbooks.  My very first was Julia Child’s “From Julia Child’s Kitchen” and her wonderful cooking talent led me down a very long path of recipe exploration.  It’s been an exciting trip through page after page of cookbooks of all sizes, most with tantalizing illustrations of food prepared and plated to perfection.  All things Italian make up a significant part of my collection along with books from regional areas of our country.  Seafood, Game, Vegetables, Grilling and, of course, Desserts.  One book, called Dressing & Cooking Wild Game, by Teresa Marrone, came in handy when The Husband snagged his first deer…then turned it over to me for the final prep.  More than four hours later I managed to produce backstrap, tenderloin, brisket, ribs,  a roast and stew meat.  Hey, don’t judge.  That was painstakingly hard work for my first, and last, adventure as a pioneer woman. 

Now, I’m done.  Most likely, done.  I’m sure there will be something else to collect before I finish my trip around the sun.  I’ll move quickly…just in case.

 

workshop-button-1From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Write about something you like to collect.  Seriously, I feel that a home tells a story, your story.  Everything inside tells others who we are, even who we’d like to be.  We represent ourselves through the things we own, and collect.  I don’t particularly like “fads” but enjoy collecting only what I connect with.  I choose to surround myself with who and what I care about and, as far as things, only those objects which have meaning.  At least to me.

 

 

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Just STOP!

Writing, anything, as least as it pertains to myself, is strictly just what I feel like sharing, at any given moment.  And, I am a Writer, as far as I am concerned.  Words that fly from my fingers, after escaping like jailbirds from being incarcerated in my brain for way too long, aren’t always pretty.  But, they’re mine.  I write the way I speak.  Brutally honest but always, always, from my heart.  

I came across a blog post from a friend recently, gave it a few re-reads, and sat on my response for a bit.  This friend gave me much encouragement when I first started writing, years ago.  I’ve shared bits and pieces from my, still a work-in-progress, book of memoirs with her, always grateful for her critique.  A later step in establishing my own website was based on the title of that book.  My domain, my little internet footprint, has become my space to share and sound-off, now and then, at the indignities of our world. 

But this isn’t about me.  It’s about you, your family, neighbors and people you don’t even know.  You see, these fractured personalities tend to lurk everywhere, often going unnoticed, more likely, deliberately ignored.  Why is it that there almost seems to be more pro-activeness on the part of parents and schools where drugs and alcohol are concerned, more attention given to situations where kids have access to dangerous weapons but…bullying…tends to slip through the cracks of acceptable behavior?  Don’t think so?

Trust me, it sure as hell does! 

In fact, I’m a bully and so is everyone else who has, and does, engage in what I call…indirect bullying.  Think about every time we throw a shot out at some politician or some celebrity.  A joke, snide comment or downright insult, all which may garner a few chuckles or a lot of “likes” on social media but, hey, it’s not being done in a direct manner.  And none of these individuals who are the brunt of our jokes will ever really know, or give a rat’s ass, about our comments.  Maybe, in some twisted way, removing any reaction justifies what we do.

Think some more.

Around us are children, impressionable and very judgmental.  Most tend to copy the bad behaviors of their parents and families, only to inflict those negative actions on others, generally in a school environment.  Given that there is strength in numbers, the power of even a small group of bullies can be overwhelming to any child.  To prey on a perceived weakness, to ridicule over any issue where a particular “group” seeks to marginalize another kid, for any damn reason…is beyond unacceptable, it’s downright criminal.  Where is the accountability?

Why should any family be forced to basically withdraw from life around them, even going so far as to relocate in order to escape the constant torment their children face at school?  Why should any young person be pushed to unreasonable limits where they question their existence because of bullying, or worse?  How can any parent feign self-serving shock at the very thought their child engages in hurtful and destructive interactions with other kids?  And, please, save any misguided ideology from a parental perspective which involves kids doing what they do; stop passing any blame on the internet, video games, social media, rap music, affluency, poverty…. just stop it!  Kids are not bullies by nature, that reprehensible behavior is learned from adults. The communication every parent has with their child is instrumental with helping them grow into a decent human being.  In simple terms, children learn what they live.  Remember that.

It begins with you.

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Rightfully earned…

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We’ve all seen them.  Those, seemingly endless, commercials about Medicare coverage that have people spouting their eligibility for benefits, demonstrative of a society where just about everyone makes claims to get what they’ve rightfully earned.  And, maybe some have every God-given right to get what they’re entitled to receive. Trust me, I’m not going to delve into any debate on that subject, although, my inner child is poking at me, trying to incite one more rant about the shallow and privileged citizenry of the world.

Nope, not today.

What each of us should focus on is what we have earned, our individual badges of honor, and that does not mean to jump up on a soapbox and pontificate about money, or what society owes us!  It seems that just the mention of the word “earned” is met with an immediate response connected to finances, with less focus on personal satisfaction gained by the result of our actions.   Sure, it’s great to have the latest in whatever brings someone their perceived joy but that can be just an accumulation of inconsequential objects, things which carry no real representation as to the true caliber of the individual surrounded by their stuff.

So, where in hell am I going with this?

Good question.  Well, in a nutshell, what each of us has earned should be focused on living life as decent human beings, giving kindness to all living entities and respect for the world around us.  These very efforts and behaviors we demonstrate earn us the trust and respect of others.  While not always entitled to do so, each of us has earned the right to speak about what truly matters, no matter how loaded, conflicted and difficult this world of ours may seem. 

Sounds reasonable, doesn’t it?  I think so, regardless of who may, or may not, agree.  I’ll just label this as everyone’s earned right…to their opinions.  And these are mine.

 

workshop-button-1From Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop…Write a blog post inspired by the word: earned.

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