I wanted to share an old family photo with you, and also to make sure you know about VOR, a real disability advocacy group.
I like your site and can’t figure out how to send you a photo in some other manner.

I wanted to share an old family photo with you, and also to make sure you know about VOR, a real disability advocacy group.
I like your site and can’t figure out how to send you a photo in some other manner.

Respond to pain the moment you think you see it…
Photo Credit: Housing Works Thrift Shops
Met a cool guy named Andy. Started a business with him (and they later married). Business skyrocketed and became a household name (at least, in any household including teens or young women).
A New York Times headline describes her as the woman “Whose Handbags Carried Women Into Adulthood,” passionate and approachable.
She and Andy seemed to be unbelievably well-matched partners. He came up with the rough draft. She ran with his ideas and crafted the finished product.
Friends said the couple were “perfect” partners in business and life.
She sold her stake in the business shortly after the birth of their daughter. Even in her absence, the website still seems to draw from her unassuming, quirky, vibrant personality.
The designer told Moneyish last year she wouldn’t trade the time with her only child in exchange for her self-titled brand “in…
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I was in fifth grade when I first became aware of a character defect in me, though I didn’t label it as such at the time. A bunch of us were in line for the teacher’s desk to have her check our papers and someone broke in line in front of me, whereupon I got out of line and retired to my desk, where I pouted. Does that suggest some kind of self punishment? Not as much as I had in the seventh grade when I recall reading the newspaper “social page” for reports of parties I hadn’t been invited to!
Of course the number of my character defects has increased exponentially–or at least my awareness of them–but one that remains is a stubborn unforgiveness of being called a liar directly or indirectly. In the early part of ninth grade the teacher caught someone talking when she wasn’t supposed to and in my loose boundaries and over identification tendencies I put my hand over my mouth in empathic reponse, and the teacher mis-interpreted my response and accused me of having talked, too. I told her I hadn’t and she disputed me. In other words, said I was lying. Then, much later, a nice intelligent woman whom I respected indirectly called me a liar and I have never been able to forgive her. An attorney friend had given me his home phone number in connection with our mutual participation in public access. I
lost the number and needed to reach him, so I contacted a mutual friend requesting his number, explaining that he’d given it to me but I had lost it, and she refused. That was calling me a liar, too. This was about 20 years ago and I haven’t re-friended her–though I doubt she’s missed me.
So very perceptive! Lovely! I’m reblogging
When I was out driving yesterday, I was suddenly engulfed in a blizzard.
A pollen blizzard.
The sun lit up the millions of pollen bits and dandelion fluffs floating through the air.
It was the Dance of the Allergens.

And I just laughed. Because those awful things reap havoc on me… and yet they were so beautiful.
Which makes me think about other things that are terrible and lovely at the same time.
When I was a kid, I lived near a very big factory, and I used to love the puddles in the parking lots after a summer rain. Not only was there a rainbow in the sky. There were rainbows in the puddles. Oh sure, you may call them oil slicks. But they were so pretty. The blues and purples and golds. Those beat-up cars left these portraits just for me.
photo by Yair Haklai
Then there’s food…
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Excellent in so many different ways…A re-blog

Shhhhh… good women are quiet.
My mother was a beautiful woman, she never complained.
Denial is a silent violence that aims to make invisible a trauma maybe evident or not, to make it acceptable as normal and allow the victims of this trauma to be exploited from a system of oppression or people in power. Denial is that voice sugarcoated with correctness that asks us to shut up and sit down on our own pain so as to not disturb anyone. Is a silence that yells loudly, because sooner or later it will speak through the different ways we hurt ourselves and others.
It is not a mystery that women all over the world are subjected to a variety of violence and oppression. Women and girls are hijacked, raped, assaulted, murdered, their experiences mocked or banalized and their bodies thrown around like trash. People get outraged asking how this is…
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I’m reblogging and following. Just excellent…

I hear a lot of people talking lately about how they are no longer proud to be Christian. They point to the vocal conservative churches and leaders who support Trump, condemn and exclude LGBTQ people, oppress female bodies and sexuality, exhibit breathtaking racism, classism, sexism, nationalism, and ecocide… and they struggle to call themselves “Christian” anymore, in light of these shameful behaviors by modern American “Christianity.”
I completely understand. The most visible examples of self-identified Christian organizations and leaders in the US today make me cringe— or pale in horror. How could any ethically responsible moderate or progressive Christian want to be associated with such bigotry, violence, and dysfunction?
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Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my Trump to keep.
Shower him with earned acclaim
Free him from a past of shame
Fill him with a mother’s pride
Make him warm and snug inside
Help him honor and love his wife
Renewing vows he made for life
Protect him from the NRA
Maybe even help him pray
Gentle his heart to help the poor,
Bringing peace and what’s more
Give him respect for law and order;
Melt with tears the southern border
Help his word be strong and true
Loving those of every hue
Moms and babies need each other
Help him find his inner mother
Let Mr. Mueller be his friend
And let the both of them defend
All the hopes and aspirations
Of a just United Nations
I wanted to be using that word correctly so I looked it up. Webster’s says pernicious means “highly injurious or destructive: deadly.” The archaic meaning is wicked.
I just realized how very destructive it can be in a democracy when I found myself doubting that unemployment had hit an all-time low in half a century. I thought, “Don’t the people who count the jobs work under the president?”….

Excerpted from Callico Jack’s https://thepsyoflifeblog.com/2018/05/31/the-depth-of-trumps-narcissism-as-told-by-the-ruined-lives-and-carnage-left-in-his-wake/
When we are confronted with evil this profoundly vile that would ignore the pain and death of thousands that would separate families by the hundreds and thousands, then we are called upon to take a stand and a side. The Ol’ Pussy Grabber has the excuse of his life time of malignant narcissism, but we do not. We do not have any other mental illness than apathy. But, the evil is here now, and we must take a blood oath to vote in November to stop it. And, we must call Congress folks and demand that something be done for Puerto Rico and maintaining immigrant families. This shit is now and we are being tested.
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