Happy FAMILY Day to my fellow residents of Ontario , Canada. Where life begins—-and love never ends… Where TOGETHER is my favorite place to be. Where, when roots are deep, there is no fear of the wind….. Pamela
When I was little I was full of excited anticipation, All the time, breathless for the future.. My mind was full of visions of a life far beyond the small family farm we were fortunate to be raised and nurtured on.. My dear, precious mother would look in my eyes..and talk to me –without moving her lips– She told me to be.. -Unafraid…of becoming whatever I dreamed of–in each stage of my eternity -Unrestrained..in sharing my love and beliefs–spreading my word and the bits of knowledge and experience I gathered over my lifetime.. And -Unapologetic if I stepped beyond boundaries and over thresholds others thought a woman of my station should ever imagine. What a gift she gave me… Thank you, my Guardian Angel. My precious Mother. For being there–as you are even today… Always THERE..
My beautiful Charlie Sophia is six years old today..Our Friday 13th baby!!! I cannot believe it has gone by so fast and so remember your MOMMA Alana’s massive car ACCIDENT and hospitalization –pregnant nine months–a few days before you were due and then born as she drove to the airport to get me!!!. We were so afraid you were injured but look how perfect you are at a few months old!!!! I ADORE you wee Princess .. Happy 6th Birthday, dear Charlie from Grammy..and to your Momma who has done such a FINE job of raising you to now!! You are a big presence in this world already.. Magic is going to happen in your life.. This I know is true….. Blessings from Grammy..
Before you read this—take a moment and think about someone in your life..A mom..sister–aunt–freind..who would rather not be single…Someone who pines for it more at Christmas ..Perhaps you will understand this post a bit more…Many embrace and thrive like crazy in singlehood—and GOOD FOR THEM! :))))) They are very fortunate to have that mindset..Trust me. I wrote this last year and feel exactly the same this year. ~~ For you who feel I need to be grateful for my life as it is..and stop concentrating on finding a nice companion. This is a perfect status that nailed it..:))) The photo of the couple is noce but the one with the words says it all. Christmas is a particularily challenging time of year for a single. Especially for someone like me who loves love and the romance of such an all encompassing and beautiful holiday like Christmas which affects our lives in 100 different and unique ways almost daily for weeks on end.. It IS a fabullous time for couples, isn’t it, my friends?? I bet you love it, too. But doin’t really think about the 100 ways it affects you–almost daily.. 99% of you in my crcle are a half […]
Author Pamela Lee’s testimony speaks for hundreds and thousands of women all over the world. Will this down-toearth, caring, kindhearted maiden’s future be “filled with love? Or filled with unspeakable despair?” The Highest Mountain; the Deepest Valley The Void of a Broken Heart The picture-perfect family. It’s one of the most desired, attainable, and ideal images conceivable to the human heart and spirit, with many of us dreaming and fantasizing of establishing our own family someday. Just like Annie Magyar. This piercing and emotive autobiography unfolds the many diverse chapters of Author Pamela Lee’s eventful and gripping story, with Annie Magyar, the main character, representing the author. As a youngling, Annie lives blanketed in unadulterated love, happy and content with an abundance of compassion, and securely nestled in the safety of principle, nourishment, family, and tradition. Immediately, it’s easy to interpret that she (who also goes by the name ‘Annie’; ‘Anna Belle’, ‘Anna Lee’ and ‘J’ throughout the story) is indeed a spirited leader with a genuine, zealous will to live life happy, and to the fullest degree! In the beginning, Author Lee efficiently exemplifies the natural “infectious” internal light little Annie possesses by recapping the earlier years of her […]
Snowfall on a quiet Saturday night Shhhh— Listen! …..the sound!! It’s like shouting into an echoing canyon and the already used, diminishing words drop over and over, like raindrops, around you… Or when the big fat cat walks across a high nap, lazily flopping in the sunray- and drags his tail, sensuously, as he smiles…..… It’s like the nibbling on cotton candy and last sizzles of the steak on the grill..sssssssssssss… or running white beach sand through the sifter..or the pan.. It reminds me of the pop-pop-pop of champagne bubbles., the whisper of a gentle breeze in fall russet and the mare’s movement in the straw-bed as she nudges her newborn to stand.. or the proud graduate while she sits and paints her face as her silvery gown rustles.. or the silk of ready-to-harvest corn as it picks up the sands of time.. the thunder of your baby’s sigh as she slumbers… or the beating of your own heart when your beloved touches your lips with fingertips, ever so gently… Pamela Lee.. January, 2013..\
Naomi the Sensual Senior—Monthly Bluster #24—Christmas. It’s all about the magic. And the vocabulary. Clark Griswald and his Eggnog in a moose punch-glass rant. Elves (especially Buddy and his elevator ride) Candy canes, cracked walnuts and turkey dinner with the fixin’s. The CHRISTMAS Concert ticket conundrum—WHO gets one? Stockings in a row on the mantel. Sparkes and twinkly glitter-EVERYWHERE. ‘T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house. Sleigh bells. Carols that are not a given name. Frankincense, baby in a manger, the star. Themey wreaths, tinsel swallowed by the cat and the best lightshow in the country contests on T.L.C. Sugar Plum fairy songs chiming out from cell phones in the grocery store lineups. Carrots for Rudolph and all her gal companions sit alongside scratch tickets for stockings in those hard to find carts. Smiley faces, everywhere. “I’ll be home for Christmas—if only in my dreams” on the car radio, making us all teary eyed and nostalgic with memories of past years. NOSTALGIA! TRADITIONS! CHRISTMAS VOCABULARY used only once a year! Where all these words prompt faster heartbeats, bring grins to our lips. Words used over and over for weeks. But for these weeks, we never tire of […]
It is amazing how being a creative soul–is an entity unto itself.. Makes no matter, what genre we speak, it affects us. You could be a creator of, say, design, in all that broad spectrum. Or you could be an ”idea man/gal’ and create concepts or business plans or strategies It may be in the arts–again in all that broad spectrum.. The point?? Creativity, passionate, tenacious creativity DOES take courage. It can add to your persona in the broad strokes..or detract.. How? Here’s an example. I was recently speaking to a fellow writer out of Texas and he was saying how so many writers avoid relationships for ”normal’ people cannot possibly understand that writing –is not a choice….a light-switch…a punch-the-clock kind of lifestyle.. (sound familiar, Creators?) Even two WRITERS cohabiting can fall into jealousies and questions about commitment and such.. Bottom line- Most think we creatives (and there are a lottt of you in my circle –a LOT!) are gifted and lucky..Perhaps in most ways we are…but in other ways———hmm. A wondrous curse? Onwards.. @BoomerNovel
Mom–THIS is what it was like for you and I.. For I remember… My first memories are of you holding me during Hurricane Hazel–singing to me and tickling me-to make me laugh… Farther down of you milking Bossy the cow and squirting me with warm milk–making me laugh… I remember you letting me stand on a chair and showing me how to peel potatoes–and hold the mixer to make cake batter– Jump to age 13 when i got braces and you made me green peppers stuffed with cottage cheese and other special lunches just for me– Then me as a mid teen when we used to sit on your bed on Sundays and read novels together…. And then how you helped me on my wedding day by throwing a grand soirée at the farm for the reception. .. And then how OROUD you were of me when your grandson, my first son, child of your child, come to us From there it was woman to woman—for you gave me that respect.. And I finally felt sooo grown up.. Until I was 29…you, only 49…and then you were gone.. Mothermurder Thank you–for being you… Your Pammy….Your J…
“Incredulously” Who could have known? Who could have guessed? Who could ever think that the most important soul to us ALL would be taken in violent murder in five days, those many years ago? 1978! Self-same day as the |Jonestown Massacre. Who could believe, if someone said it was coming, that the one who we all assume will be there for us ’til our own end will, instead, be stolen? Wouldn’t we all pooh-pooh it if we thought that Gramma would never again bake her famous cookies for your kids.. spoil them rotten with her devoted love of them? Who could imagine she would never again gladly provide an ear, a non-judgemental ear for you in the middle of the night when you just ..needed her? I couldn’t.. But it happened.. Pamela.. 13/11/15 post script–My precious Momma was 49..I had just turned 29, 12 days before her death.