EMBRACING THE SIMPLICITY OF WISDOM

A series of essays.....

PRESENTS ALL WRAPPED AND READY TO GO

.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

The colorful rolls of paper and spools of gossamer ribbon are back in storage boxes and up on the highest shelves once again. All is wrapped; temptation eliminated. The eyes of the young children will soon focus on the shape and configuration of the presents beneath the tree with a child's imagination of bespoken treasures and youthful desires. The adults will imagine the allusive hopes conjured up so long ago; reestablished wishes now witnessed by the presence of their own children anxiously awaiting their turn to open a beribboned prize.

With age, wisdom pours through us like lifeblood and allows us to distinguish and better understand the bright light at the end of the long passageway......believe me, I know. The 'age' part I know only too well. It's quite simple and, awkwardly, way too obvious at times. Without attending to the gory details, let's just say that the body begins to take on a life separate from the one your mind has contentedly lived with for so many years. The term 'high maintenance' resolves into a very personal interpretation and we contend with these physical changes, on an individual basis, in the best way we can.

Wisdom is defined by the quality of having experience, knowledge, and good judgment. For me, the culmination of wisdom can be summed-up by just one word: Simplicity! What a beautiful word 'simplicity' is. The absence of complications; straightforwardness; clean lines; effortlessness; clarity of expression; lack of pretense.......you decide. You choose. All of the above for me, please!


A few years back I became intrigued by a tradition that I've since learned began in Scotland some time ago. It's called the 'Honesty

LITTLE FREE LIBRARY
Picture Courtesy of Ladyfleur

Box' and is based on the honor system. An honesty box, as defined by Wikipedia, is a method of charging for a service or a product by relying upon each visitor (customer) paying at a box using the honor system. I have personally seen such boxes used in the rural areas of  North Carolina where the low number of customers, along with the low quantity and/or value of the products on offer, means that an attendant would not bring a positive return on investment. Many were domestically run operations where attendance was not feasible such as selling homemade jams or fresh vegetables along the roadside. While taking advantage of this system, I could picture a farm wife in the kitchen stirring a batch of fruity confection while her husband was tilling the soil of their small, mountain field. 

HOMEMADE JAM FOR SALE
HONESTY CHAIR

Let's be honest, this system today would never fly here in Orlando or even in Edinburgh, Scotland. I do take comfort in the fact that some camping sites, small, municipal parking areas, and tiny, hutch-like libraries offering the exchange of one used book for an alternate one, for the delight of all, do exist throughout the world. I've seen them and have taken advantage of them all, at one time or another. In each case, honesty is the connection, a simple act of fairness and respect towards those who have worked so hard to provide others with the simple pleasures this life has to offer.

Downsizing, taking into consideration that having less can give you more in terms of freedom and happiness, is a concept that has been gaining momentum throughout the world. Wisely, we humans are beginning to understand that possessing more and more 'stuff' can be a burden, may cause needless anxiety, and can take the focus away from the core of family life and activities.

COLORFUL TINY HOMES

Tiny living, small homes and apartments, and taking advantage of a simple, uncluttered lifestyle is like having a self-help book unfold before your very eyes! Cable television channels such as HGTV (Home and Garden Television) and FYI Network have illustrated the wisdom of downsizing in programs entitled "Tiny House Hunters," "Tiny House Builders," and "Tiny House Nation," with  catch phrases like, "Living large in small places," and "Tips for living in small spaces." Personally, I think that many New York City residents could have written the book about 'living small' and 'downsizing successfully' years ago! 

The simple truth is, possessing an abundance of 'stuff' in this lifetime may not always equate to being happy and content. Having been empty nesters now for many years, Dan and I have often asked ourselves what it would take to be truly happy in a world that is far from being in a state of peaceful happiness itself. And, with the next phase of our lives labeled 'retirement' looming closer and closer, we've taken into consideration what the term happiness means to us and how to go about achieving it.

Every time we would add-up each column, the sum total would inevitably be.....Family!

MY FIVE SWEET AND ADORABLE FACES ~ FAMILY

Amos Bronson Alcott, an American educator and man of wisdom,
born in 1799 and died in 1888, once stated that, "Our notion of the perfect society embraces the family as its center and ornament, and this paradise is not secure until children appear to animate and complete the picture." In addition to our own children and their spouses, we are fairly certain that the 'ornaments' that animate our family circle are those five, adorable faces that greet us with smiles of joy and love in their hearts each time we see them. Nothing is better than small, outstretched arms waiting to embrace you; small, soft lips puckering in preparation for a kiss. 

With the anticipation of living a more straightforward and less complicated lifestyle as we grow older, Dan and I have purchased our 'Little Yellow Cottage' in Kalamazoo, Michigan, which is conveniently located between daughter number one and daughter number two. Our Hazel Avenue retreat is already providing us with the pleasure of remodeling in order to make it our own, and will, eventually, serve as where we 'hang our hat' for most of the year. If all goes well, the rest of the time will be spent traveling as often as possible and writing in full detail about each journey we take. I am always prepared and excited  to be able to do that!

Built in 1941, Hazel Avenue is a pre-war cottage home that's filled with spunk and charisma. It embodies the simplicity of downsizing with the beauty of original hardwood floors, plaster molding, a wood burning fireplace, and an actual basement below it all! So far, in nearly twenty years of Floridian living, we have never taken for granted or underestimated the importance of having a basement in a home.

HAZEL AVENUE CLOAKED IN SNOW

Even though our little cottage remains a constant 'work in progress,' we have already experienced the joy of having neighbors who actually care about having you live in the neighborhood. We've been invited to block parties, musical functions within the greater Kalamazoo area, and have already been included in the annual Christmas activities this  season. We've been greeted at our front door by smiling faces providing warm introductions while offering 'Welcome Gifts' and any assistance we might need to make our move-in easier. It's almost as though Hazel Avenue has welcomed us back into time, returned us to her own 'glory days' in a slower, happier, more caring time in our nation's history.     

As each month progresses, Dan and I learn more and more about the amazing and talented individuals who live in our new neighborhood. They include college professors, a sculptor, a language professor, several published authors, and right next door, Ginny and Barclay who will, at some point in time, teach my sweet husband how to play the bodhran (Irish drum) he purchased in Ireland years ago.

We anticipate a rather busy, yet fulfilled and exciting life to come surrounded by family and friends, both old and new. Our life may not always be effortless.....after all, anything worth having and doing well requires a certain amount of effort to achieve. But, I do promise to embrace the simplicity of wisdom that has guided me so far along this incredible journey called life and served to protect me from the "Boogie Man," as well as the many rough patches I've encountered along the way. I will always welcome fresh ideas, new faces, and the opinions of others because I will never be too old to learn new things or value the wisdom of others around me.

So, in the spirit of the Christmas Season, 2015, our hearts are open and ready to be filled with, as well as share with everyone, all of the joy, warmth, and copious amounts of love this Holiday has to offer! What a simply wonderful time of the year!

I leave you with the profound words of T. S. Eliot (1888-1965), American-English poet and playwright, that sum up the idea of Family for me this season:

"Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs, rising or falling, grasping at kisses and toys, advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm, retreating to the corner of arm and knee, eager to be reassured, taking pleasure in the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree."

Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

THE GAME OF POWER IS BRINGING ME DOWN

A series of essays.....

HAVING FUN IN THE MICHIGAN SNOW

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Having had Santa, seemingly, throw-up in our guest bedroom over the weekend.....you might assume that the 'Christmas Spirit' would be washing down all over me at this time of the year. Unfortunately, you would be wrong.

During my recent stay in Michigan, I listened, intently, to all of our grandchildren, made a long list and have been checking it twice, even three times over, since returning to Florida! And yet, the invigorating vibes of a passionate Holiday Season are ignoring me and shooting past my personal radar. Like the small bat we recently found living in the attic space of our 'little yellow cottage' in Michigan, I am hanging upside-down from an ancient rafter in order to avoid the hostile world beyond the confines of this small, insulated, and relatively unoccupied room.

Grateful for the diversion of the epic MSU/Iowa football match-up we watched this past Saturday evening that, justifiably, awarded Michigan State the Big Ten Championship and placed MSU in the number three spot in the nation.....Go Green....., it felt good to tuck things in the back of my mind for a few hours. Just so you know, Coach Saban of the University of Alabama, you may rue the day that you hired Mark Dantonio on the football staff at MSU back in 1995! I assure you that all MSU alumni and fans appreciate your business acumen in this regard.

BEYOND THE PICTURE WINDOW

Sitting at lunch last week with my twins, Brendan and Kerrington, together we watched airy, white snowflakes generously coat the Michigan landscape beyond the picture window. A delicate, white baby's blanket of powdery ice crystals should have done the trick and welcomed in this glorious season of magic and joy. Snap! The snow melted as swiftly as it had arrived and my 'flagrant funk' burned as bright as ever. 

What is wrong?  I feel as if I'm living within a '60's animated Christmas film where the Abominable Snowmonster has knocked me unconscious and no one is able to rescue me. Has the spirit of one of my Russian ancestors resurrected the 1913 silent film "The Night Before Christmas," by Wladyslaw Starewicz and based on the tale by Nikolai Gogol, and cast me in the starring role of evil-doer with malicious intent? A strange, frightening, yet most interesting film, nonetheless. No thank you, great, great uncle Boris! This is one gig I don't wish to accept!

Grandchildren, Michigan snow showers, Christmas shopping.....and my melancholy erupts in sadness and gloom. What will it take to awaken the sleeping 'Goodness' that represents this holy and beautiful time of the year? If I believe in this goodness so deeply, why hasn't it been enough to pull me through the funk and swaddle me in its warmth and joy? 

Following the parameters of a fast-paced, technological agenda, we are all acutely aware of the fragility of our world. Cameras and cell phones have ignited the "as it's happening" aspect of our lifestyles and spawned instant feedback from those of us who consciously follow what is happening in the world around us. If CNN isn't your thing, then you might be aligned with social media a good portion of the day. One way or another, it would be difficult today not to be aware of major events within moments of them occurring in real time.

Common sense, rhyme or reason.....call it what you will and then toss it out of the window!! The conscience and logical explanation for what is happening between human beings all over the world is the unconscionable conduct of lost souls who have devalued the importance of life whether it be that of their own or of those around them.

Each and every one of us is caught in the middle of this desperate game of power, whether we want to acknowledge it or not. If we understand that our spirit is interconnected with all others around us, our brothers and sisters in Paris, San Bernardino, Syria, Boston, Lebanon, or Sandy Hook, Connecticut, they become more real to us.....their circumstances more personal and humbling.

In the words of the 1990's band, FireHouse: "So, why are you always bringing me down?"

I do take things quite personally. I believe that what affects someone living in Erekta, a remote village of Papua, New Guinea, can and will effect a change in all of us one day. Our Earth has grown more fragile, this is certain, and she has shrunk in size, as well. Through the power of communication, in all of its amazing forms, we have watched the spaces between lands, their people and cultures, minimize on a daily basis. Therefore, we've become closer and more aware of places and the people around us even if, logistically, we remain miles apart. I think of it as Evolution at its finest!

The website, Behind the Name, tells me that Ebenezer means "stone of help" in Hebrew and was the name of a monument erected by Samuel in the Old Testament. In 1843, Charles Dickens used it for the miserly character, Ebenezer Scrooge, in his novel 'The Christmas Carol.' I haven't gone all 'Bah Humbug' on anyone....yet. And, I would never show disdain during the Christmas season toward its religious aspects, as well as the inevitable commercial ramifications! There is way too much at stake here.

Silently, ahhh, silently, my heart aches. Finally, I am beginning to understand what is altering my passion this holiday season. I don't like what I see. And, I don't, exactly, know how to change it to make it better.

Bonobos. Bonobos are peace loving primates who live in the Democratic Republic of the Congo located in central Africa. According to the Bonobo Conservation Initiative, these magnificent apes share more than ninety-eight percent of our DNA and are complex beings with profound intelligence and emotional expression and sensitivity. Watching Anderson Cooper interact with the bonobos on 60 Minutes this past Sunday, it was easy to fall in love with them.

"This female-dominated culture of chimpanzees is peaceful and more egalitarian. Sex transcends reproduction, as it does in human society, and serves to promote bonding, reduce tensions, and share pleasure. Because of their caring and compassion, bonobos serve as a powerful symbol of peace and cooperation." We have much to learn about them.

Many of us are familiar with the anti-war slogan associated with the American counterculture of the 1960's.....'Make love, not war.' This nickname has been applied to the docile and diplomatic bonobos in reference to their social and sexual relationships. Can we humans consider incorporating their generally peaceful and cooperative society that is based on a highly complex social system into our own society and learn to elevate LOVE to the highest degree? It appears that the bonobos have much to teach us about ourselves.

By writing about the possibility of societal change for the better and believing that for each 'wrong' there is a 'right' and that good and evil can coexist without the constant threat of human annihilation, maybe I can salvage some semblance of peace and calm this season. Thinking about the loving bonobos, I will better appreciate the intricate snowflake pattern as it melts upon my grandchild's cheek. The selection of paper and ribbon for each present I wrap will make me smile. Understanding the Christian symbolism of the Nativity above and beyond its artistic representation of the circumstances of the birth of Jesus Christ, will fill me with great joy.

And, that's it.....there is HOPE. There will always be HOPE. As long as there are good, loving people walking upon this fertile land, there will always be the feeling that something desired so greatly will inevitably happen.

We must never give up on the HOPE of a better world.


Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

Photograph Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved


"The devil's been so busy lately,
Even God must get the blues."

                        ~~~~Jo Dee Messina

THE JOY OF LIVING

A series of essays.....

Paris 2003 ~ Where People Meet To Talk, Eat, Drink, Love, And Watch The World Go By!

.....as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


You would had to have lived under a rock all of your life not to be somewhat familiar with the French, and highly universal phrase, 'joie de vivre.' The joy of living! Maybe you don't pronounce it quite correctly in French. That's okay. At least you try. Maybe your spelling is off a bit. That's why the Internet exists.....certainly for me, anyway!

This past Friday, November 13, 2015, I reasoned this phrase, this inspiring interpretation of life, must have died along with all of the poor souls that had been so wrongfully taken away from us during the late hours of a charming Friday evening in Paris.....France. I couldn't have been more wrong!

I believe that the spirit and joy of living, enjoying life, people, and the world around us, has, if nothing else, intensified. Everything that 'joie de vivre' implies makes us realize even more how precious this feeling of happiness and excitement about life truly is. Especially when such barbaric attempts to eradicate its 'pure joy' is alive, well, and, seemingly, unstoppable.

Perhaps you were acquainted with one of the victims or with members of their families. In this age of social media, this is even more probable than any other time in our history. The question is asked, "How do we, the survivors, continue on after such a loss?" It's still life......we know it is different now but, it's still life and so many others have become more dependent upon those who have been left behind to pick-up the pieces.

There are children made orphans; spouses abandoned by the loss of their husband or wife; survivors instantaneously categorized as a single parent; older parents losing an adult child and, so much potential for giving back to others lost in moments filled with pure  evil and hate. The carnage was only half of it; so much more seems to be at stake here. I realize it's the human beings left behind, like pieces of a gigantic puzzle, they take on the shape and curvature needed to fill in those spaces created by the loss of each one of those lives. 

You might ask what could possibly be the protocol for rising above such depths of despair? Is there really a simple guidebook or set of rules governing the aftermath of such grave, unexpected loss? Not really. However, in my admiration for the French people and their particular design on everyday life, joie de vivre still shines through the fragile cracks like much needed sunshine after a long, arduous storm.

Afraid, hurting, and reeling from the massacre of their fellow and worldly citizens, Parisians, being themselves, being French with everything applied to this title, cautiously began to fight back in the best way they knew how. Fitting each word together like a novelist creating  her next chapter, Parisians knew that the hate mongers   could not take away the high spirits, gaiety, exuberance, and zest for life they chose to enjoy and define themselves by. At least, not for long. Their next chapter, their brand new story, was not going to be based on the hate they had recently experienced first-hand. Life is meant for the living and the French, especially Parisians, know how important it is to live life to the fullest.

And, this is precisely the attitude that most of us who love and admire the French lifestyle are drawn to. We are moths seeking the flickering, bright flame we associate with owning élan and want to experience the rush of adrenaline served-up to the French as a birthright.

Daesh. Daesh is an Arabic word meaning a group of bigots that impose their will upon others, according to "Morning News USA." I remain uncertain as to why this group dislikes this title so much considering the terminology seems to fit so perfectly. I believe that most of the insane and radical reasons that Daesh chose the particular venues that it did last Friday was its attempt to cripple the youthful spirit and extinguish the bright light of joy and hope that flourishes within the heart of each French person. The flame may have sputtered and almost gone out that night but, the French, Parisians in particular, will never allow that to happen.

My question is this.....  Do we fight hate with hate? Do we allow fear to be the negative beacon that lights our path to a worldly disaster? And, do we allow Daesh to cripple our sensitivities to the point of filling our own hearts with hate, as well? You know that is their goal. If we hate, we will be just like them.

Unfortunately, by not accepting the innocent human beings, the refugees who are attempting to escape the senseless slaughter and injustices inflicted upon them in their homeland, we are heading into a new world that even 'joie de vivre' will not be able to penetrate. The governors of each state in America who have chosen fear over love and common sense when it comes to offering refuge to living breathing souls are falling deeply into the patterns of the same hate dictated by Daesh and al-Qaeda. You can be certain that they will be warming the pews of their religious affiliation of choice this Sunday with more than enough smiles and handshakes to go around.

The general hypocrisy of mankind is based on many things with power, money and the fear of losing the next election being among them. Although, power and money, in my estimation, are one and the same. Fear, hatred, and greed has polarized the United States for way too many years now. It is time to inject our own 'joie de vivre' into the world we call home and live, laugh, love, and even, disagree with one another while we kiss and embrace the moment.

I often tell my two girls about the open-minded concept concerning social topics that their father and I experienced while attending Michigan State University back in the late sixties. It was common to walk through the study areas of your dorm at midnight only to find groups of students hotly debating various ideas generated by class discussions or particular world affairs and events. We didn't have a cell phone attached to our faces and we relied on our knowledge and personal opinions to feed the conversation. Not seeing eye-to-eye was all part of it. Talking with one another and sharing views was healthy and there wasn't a computer to lean on when a discussion got heated. I miss those days for so many reasons. We have lost the art of face-to-face communication and I find this to be very worrisome.

I will be honest when I say that writing about the terrorist attack on Paris that took place last Friday was difficult for me. First of all, I had to calm down a lot and try to make some sense out of a senseless situation. Still haven't accomplished this one yet. I had to employ many of my own beliefs with regard to love vs. hate, good will always overcome evil, having faith and hope in mankind will conquer all, and showing kindness and forgiveness towards others will bring joy into my heart and soul. I questioned myself on all counts just as I had done after the destruction of the Twin Towers in 2001, the realization that the Syrian President, Bashar al-Assad, could destroy and murder his own people, trying to understand the multiple suicide bombings that have killed thousands of innocent people, and commercial aircraft being taken out of the sky by various means in order to kill thousands more.

I sit back and shake my head in wonder.

Daesh believes it has found our Achilles heel. It has learned that to strike terror in others, it must completely destroy the joy in their life. It must deplete the innocence we were born with and insert fear and hatred in its place. It has learned to attempt to destroy the creative side of our natures by crumbling great works of art and wiping-out the visual history of statues and monuments that represent some of  man's greatest achievements. It wishes to relieve us of our freedom of speech, as well as the sheer joy of sharing thoughts and ideas with one another. Daesh knows that to kill the body is the only way it can be assured of accomplishing this.

Planting terror into the hearts and minds of free thinking people would mean one thing......successfully extracting the 'joie de vivre' that exists there. This past week tells us that the French, Parisians in particular, will never allow anyone to deplete their 'raison d'etre,' reason for being, or dismiss their Joy of Living under any circumstances!


Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

Photograph Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

DAYDREAMING

A series of essays.....

My Photographic Interpretation of an Impressionistic Painting Entitled:
"Poolside" and Taken During the Summer of 2007

.....as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



The perfectly angled autumn sun pours its golden light down upon the swirling water and the reflection of a thousand dancing fairies shimmers above me on the high-glossed, paneled ceiling. I am sitting on my lanai and daydreaming. Staring up at the tongue and groove boards, I observe brilliant white light, texture, and fluid movement as the nymphs play their afternoon games of hide and seek. My heart is filled with joy!

I have always been a daydreamer. Sister John-Marie understood and encouraged me. As long as I was able to answer her questions when called upon in class, my fantasy worlds were windows of opportunity for me, as far as she was concerned. Yes, she always understood. A fellow dreamer, perhaps?

Not every Sister or lay teacher I had in Catholic school was able to perceive the importance of my mini-travels to the stars and back. Avid reading, however, was acceptable, and I always did my fair share of that. After exhausting Carolyn Keene's adventures with the help of Nancy Drew, I set my sights on F. W. Dixon and checked-out as many Hardy Boys Mystery Stories as they would allow me to each week from our small school library. The bus ride home each day was extensive and permitted me ample time to consume multiple chapters before hearing the 'whoosh' of the bus door closing behind me.

The addition of writing coupled with the joy of reading came early on in life. Begging my Mother to purchase extra notebooks for school, I would turn them into spiral bound journals filled with line after line of cursive script intended for my eyes only. Carefully hiding them in stacks beneath my bed, it was never my intent, at that time, to share my past, present, or future with another living soul.

The nomadic lifestyle imposed upon my family due to my Father's employment made it difficult to hide much beneath my bed for very long considering the floor it rested upon changed from one year to another. The dust bunnies barely had ample time to accumulate. Not only was I a wanderer within my own head, but with each move and having to adjust to each new school, new house, and new set of friends, our small 'restless mobile society' contributed to my need for movement and travel later on in life.

When my Dad decided to finally settle down, he brought us to Michigan where I was enrolled in our public high school that included an eighth-grade level program. Growing-up required bidding adieu to the ladies donning black habits and beaded rosary accessories one year and hello to walking the halls alongside a student body that was eighty percent older than myself. I was now changing classrooms each hour and having to consciously recall my locker combination or be left standing alone in the hall like a fish out of water. I survived and matured because of the experience.

It was around this time that two amazing realizations occurred that have served to mold and change my life forever. I fell in love with France, all things to do with France and knew that I could consciously submerge myself in her culture, language, people, and history and be happy the rest of my life. Secondly, it was time to share my thoughts with anyone who would be willing to read about them. I became a writer at fourteen years old. My first poem entitled "Time" was published in our local newspaper and after that, I never looked back.

There is a fine line between the conscious and the subconscious mind. Traveling between them can be an interesting adventure, especially when the journey itself is used as a coping mechanism allowing you to exist despite teenage challenges. The observation of 'visible energy' surrounding me was developed, encouraged and always felt natural. After all....I had had several years of practice by then. I often relied upon my vivid imagination to transform a negative situation into a positive experience.

To this day, daydreaming, triggered by visible energy, attracts me like a Super Magnet. Pulled into a vortex of encircling emotions and ideas, my interpretations can be transformed from the ordinary to the extraordinary in moments. Unlike most of our stage five dreams at night during REM (rapid eye movement) sleep that may be forgotten upon awakening, daydreaming affords us the luxury of sustained recall. In case you were wondering, yes, I do sleep with a pad of paper and a pencil on the night stand.....just in case.

The motion that triggers a reaction in me and stimulates my desire to daydream can be as complicated and exquisite as being transfixed by the languid shadow of the backyard live oak tree as it spills its brilliant summer colors onto the swimming pool's aquamarine ripples. Or, as simple as the sunlight reflecting off of my watch creating 'Tinker Bell' choreography on the family room walls. Light. Motion. A  combination capable of bridging the gap between conscious and subconscious thoughts and my personal recipe for a creative concoction certain to be utilized, expanded upon and served-up with imaginative flair in the near future.

Looking up at my dancing fairies this afternoon as I daydream the moments away, I am reminded of a quote by Sir Richard Branson, the highly successful English businessman and investor who said, "Don't ever let anyone prevent you from dreaming. Imagination is one of our greatest gifts. Don't just dream it. Go out and grab it with both hands."

Daydreaming is as close to reality as I sometimes want to be and it is much more important than the simple involvement of idle reverie or indulging in pipe dreams. Daydreaming has been and will always be my way of witnessing and then describing the softened edges of a granite hard world.....through the eyes and soul of a writer.


Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

Photograph copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

JOYEUX ANNIVERSAIRE....HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

A series of essays.....

.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



BIRTHDAYS........

are intimate reminders of the progression of life; a sweet, generous time to reflect upon the past and look forward with joy to what awaits us in the future. Birthdays are the exception to the rule when it comes to living in the moment. A twenty-four hour sabbatical from the ordinary by which we deviate from daily routine, celebrate each amazing breath we take, and challenge our efforts to advance as a soldier making a push toward the incomprehensible sea.....limitless, boundless, infinite, vast.

Markers....like small road signs clicking off each mile of the super highway, the years pass by with the sun's glare bouncing off reflective aluminum surfaces, teardrops of rain sliding down a cool, smooth veneer, and numerical significance masked behind Winter's accumulation of sleet and snow. Tick...tick....tick. We carry-on with each revolution, rubber meeting the road, as our mind advances the count and our heart begins to understand the inequitableness of this journey. There is no reverse on this stick shift. Best to allow our hair to fly freely in the wind and truly enjoy the freedom of the open road......every day.

As the single, tiny flame simulates the frenzied dance of a whirling dervish, the addition of each flame accumulates to resemble a 'bonfire of life,' a talisman of experience that sits proudly atop confectionary bliss to be shared by everyone participating in this magnificent celebration. The yearling son or daughter is given his own small cake to devour as he sees fit with the gusto and creativity displayed by this ritual, perhaps, foreshadowing his life's potential and style. The candle's golden glow highlights each wrinkle of the centenarian who basks in the satisfaction and rewards of a job well done, surrounded by friends and generations of family that carry on his legacy in the guise of an upturned nose or a feisty temper......!

Alone. Many of us glide through this world within a solitary bubble, our purpose for living never surfacing to the top level of comprehension, we free fall like an autumn leaf newly released from the Tree of Life. The breeze shifts and blows us about while sets of various circumstances attract us like metal shards to a magnet, certain conditions or events control our actions as we float down to gather among the other silent souls on the ground. Even surrounded by the multitudes, we can be alone, ticking off the years in a silent quest for closure, bringing an end to the crushing pain inside. My birthday wish for you would be the accumulation of an abundance of hope in your life and love in your heart. Only then would you be able to understand your purpose for living. Only then would you not be fearful, sad, and alone as you grow older.

Birthdays can be more about giving to others than about receiving from them. There is a similar reasoning behind many of us who find it difficult to accept praise or high recognition for things we've accomplished. Let's face it.....it is easier to give than to receive. Some may not agree with this. However, we have been known to blush at the prospect of praise yet, forthrightly seek it out by making the effort of being the best person we can be.

This ritual of 'giving and receiving' extends to many traditions and life changing events. We gather at weddings to honor the bride and groom and 'gift' them in order to make their future life together more abundant and enjoyable. The bride and groom give us 'tokens' of their appreciation, feed us, and let us eat cake in celebration. Marie Antoinette would have understood!

Age. Another word for experience, a badge of courage and the continuance of comfort and pride worn like a familiar hat for years and shaped to the contours of our head. Age reminds us that we have something wonderful to show for time well spent with our tiny scars worn proudly. We should not allow the exterior to overshadow the marvelous beauty of our mind and soul. Wrinkles are inevitable; acting old is not.

Often, the body ages as the mind remains vibrant and young, open to new ideas, and still eager to learn about many of the old ones. This may be the most appropriate meaning and application of The Fountain of Youth, highly coveted and sought after. Thankfully, the external signs of aging can be a long, slow process especially when one consciously leads a healthy lifestyle including exercise and eating well. After all, good health holds the key to happiness and may be the freshwater source that restores (in this case, maintains) the youthful qualities of anyone who drinks or bathes in its waters.

No two individuals feel the same way about or celebrate their birthdays in an identical manner. Being surrounded by several close friends may be the ticket. Renting a large hall and dancing the night away with hundreds of others may be your thing. Naturally, we know that conditions may be enhanced or restrained by certain economic and social positions.     
 
As for myself, knowing that I am loved allows me to enjoy the day of my birth to the fullest! My family and many friends may live miles away, but I always feel the warmth of their love each year. They all serve as intimate reminders of my life's progression and I am eternally grateful to them for this. And, the sweet joy of grandchildren is like the proverbial 'cherry on top.' I am very blessed.

By the way, no cupcakes for me! A generous portion of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and a scoop of vanilla ice cream, please. Oh, and you can hold the candles for now. We all know that the smoke from just one candle will carry my prayers to the heavens and represent the Light of Life. Besides, reaching centenarian status is a long way off.....for now. I will celebrate with a big bonfire then.


Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

THE IRISH CAME TO AMERIKAY

A series of essays.....

GREAT FAMINE NATIONAL MONUMENT IN MURRISK, IRELAND

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Who knew that having coffee with a good friend last week and spending nearly three hours reflecting upon our various travels throughout Europe would lead me to Orchard Street in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, New York, New York. But, it did. I am most grateful. And, here is my story.....

I have always been fascinated by other cultures, history, Romance languages, and, most recently, the unique preservation of time via time and space itself. Egyptian pharaohs mummified in magnificent pyramidal tombs. The deterioration of artifacts being hindered or slowed within the wet, spongy ground of a peat bog. A dust laden Parisian apartment locked-up and untouched since the World War Two era. A beautiful stone church abandoned by its human parishioners only to be embraced by surrounding nature, one tendril at a time.

Wondering what the spirits inhabiting these special places would say to me, I have admittedly taken it upon myself to supply words to their personal stories....upon occasion, through my writing. They have become as real as old and dear friends watching over me long into the night. I am reminded of several black and white movies I cherished as a child which included Constance Bennett and Cary Grant in "Topper" and "The Canterville Ghost" starring Charles Laughton. They were movies with friendly spirits who have long held my attention and encouraged me to watch them over and over again.

My story leads me to a 'spirit filled' and wonderfully preserved spot located in Manhattan entitled 'The Lower East Side Tenement Museum' which is a National Historic Site managed by the National Park Service.

However, before I take you into the museum, let me tell you how I got there in the first place.

Our conversation over coffee in Kalamazoo last week brought Michael and me to the conclusion that our travels in France and Ireland have greatly influenced who we are today. As self-professed Francophiles, we reasoned that the pull of France and French culture influenced both of us at an early age. The irresistible attraction of its culture, beauty, history, and refinement builds to an even greater crescendo with each subsequent visit to France.

THE SUN BEGINNING TO SHIMMER OFF OF
THE ATLANTIC~~TAKEN FROM THE SUMMIT
OF BENBAUN AND LOOKING WEST

Considering we both have ancestors deeply rooted in Ireland, it did not surprise me that much of our verbal exchange encapsulated this amazing island. From driving on the left side of its narrow roads to embracing the sheer rugged beauty of its Western Coastline, we determined that Ireland afforded the most natural 'photo opportunity' for amateur and professional photographers alike. The light shimmering off of the Atlantic can be more than amazing and there is a fresh and steady stream of smiling Irish faces to always lighten-up even an overcast day! 

Visiting there today, it is difficult to imagine that approximately one million people died and another million or more emigrated from Ireland in the mid-1800's. The Great Famine or the Great Hunger, due to a potato blight, was a 

CLOSER DETAIL OF
FAMINE MONUMENT

period of mass starvation, disease, and emigration in Ireland between 1845 and 1852 when about two-fifths of the population, for a number of historical reasons, was dependent on this cheap crop for sustenance. According to Wikipedia, "The famine was a watershed in the history of Ireland. Its effects permanently changed the island's demographic, political, and cultural landscape. The massive famine soured the already strained relations between many of the Irish people and the British Crown, eventually leading to Irish Home Rule and United Ireland movements."

However, the Great Hunger devastated the 'backbone' of this country affecting its strength and character, its past, and most assuredly, its future.  How could it not? It caused the island's population to fall by between twenty and twenty-five per cent at the time. Unimaginable  statistics!

IRISH FAMILY BEING EVICTED
FROM THEIR HOME BY THE BRITISH

Over a million Irishmen, including complete families and lost, defeated youth, caught the glint in their eye from the sun's bright shimmer off of the hypnotic Atlantic waves and set sail upon rickety boats to far-off places such as Canada, Australia and Amerikay (America).

Many Irish Traditional songs were written due to this mass exodus to America to find a better life, brighter future, all at the expense of solid, Irish family traditions. Many feared that the Irish culture would be greatly diminished by its youth leaving and forsaking their heritage. Songs such as "The Shores of Amerikay" have captured the emotions of a generation that sought a better life for themselves and for those they loved so dearly......even at the expense of bidding farewell to their home and loved ones left behind. To many, it was the ultimate sacrifice.

"The Shores of Amerikay"
(Author Unknown)

I'm bidding farewell to the land of my youth,
And the home I love so well,
And the mountains so grand 'round my own native land,
I'm bidding them all farewell.
With an aching heart I'll bid them adieu,
For tomorrow I'll sail far away,
O'er the raging foam for to seek a home,
On the shores of Amerikay.

It's not for the want of employment I'm going,
It's not for the love of fame,
That fortune bright may shine over me,
And give me a glorious name.
It's not for the want of employment I'm going,
O'er the weary and stormy sea,
But to seek a home for my own true love,
On the shores of Amerikay.

And when I am bidding my last farewell,
The tears like rain will blind,
To think of my friends in my own native land,
And the home I'm leaving behind.
But if I'm to die in a foreign land,
And be buried so far far away,
No fond mother's tears will be shed o'er my grave,
On the shores of Amerikay.

Immigrants entered America from various places. They trickled down from Canada into Michigan's Upper Peninsula with many entering Detroit, as well, to stay and create a new life, or spread out into Ohio and Pennsylvania. Eventually, they entered American ports to settle in Boston, New York and Philadelphia. A story in The History Place states that "New York was better able to absorb its incoming Irish. Throughout the Famine years, 75 percent of the Irish coming to America landed in New York. In 1847, about 52,000 Irish arrived in the city which had a total population of 372,000."

"They arrived in great numbers, most were able to speak English, and their Western European culture was similar to American culture," accounts Brendan A. Rapple, author of an article entitled, 'Irish Americans.'

So, you know what it's like to be able to suddenly spot every Buick Encore on the road right after you've decided you'd like to purchase one yourself? Well, that's a little bit like how my story progresses. After returning home to Orlando, it seemed as though all of my energy was focused upon Ireland and the spirit of her people who remained there, as well as those who fled across the sea so many years before. Everything I saw or thought about revolved around Ireland and the many memories I had formulated of Ireland throughout our years of traveling there and writing about this beautiful place.

Taped on our DVR was a program we watch each week called 'Out of Ireland' featuring news, public affairs and cultural information of interest to Irish-Americans. Its host, Patricia O'Reilly, featured an unforgettable place located in Manhattan called 'The Lower East Side Tenement Museum' that has since jumped high in position of importance on my list of 'Must Sees.' And, for very good reasons!

Unlike most history museums whose curators display collections of artifacts they have compiled from a particular era via multiple contributors.....The Tenement Museum in Manhattan has opened up the doors to that lost 'Parisian apartment' after all of these years. The dust has been gently brushed aside and now the history of 97 Orchard Street, built in 1863, is like a little time capsule enticing us back into the past....

THE DUST BEING BRUSHED "ASIDE" AT
AN APARTMENT AT 97 ORCHARD STREET
  

A historian and social activist, Ruth Abram wanted to build a museum that honored America's immigrants. New York's tenements were the perfect place for her museum: these humble, multiple family buildings were the first American home for thousands of immigrants. It was a frustrating search until she stumbled upon the tenement at 97 Orchard Street which was called 'home' to nearly seven thousand working class immigrants.

Co-founder, Anita Jacobson, said, "97 Orchard's initial appeal was an available storefront which we considered renting this space to run tours of the Lower East Side." While inspecting the storefront, Jacobson went to the hallway to look for a bathroom. She saw sheet-metal ceilings, turn-of-the-century toilets and an aging wood banister. "It was as though people had just picked up and left. It was a little time capsule...I called Ruth and said 'We have got to have this building.' It was perfect."

The search was over and for the past twenty years, the Tenement Museum has blossomed from an idea into a thriving institution. Shuttered for over fifty years, 97 Orchard's apartments were in ruin. It would take time to transform the tenement into a museum. Undaunted, researchers scavenged through 97 Orchard and combed through archives, compiling evidence about tenants and tenement life.They have carefully restored six apartments, including the home of the Moores, Irish immigrants who lived at 97 Orchard in 1869.

 GUIDED TOUR AT 'THE TENEMENT MUSEUM' 

They continue to grow each year by expanding the Visitors Center, exhibitions and classrooms. The museum can only be seen by guided tour suggesting that they wish to preserve the integrity of 97 Orchard, as well as carefully educate the visitor about every detail this time capsule has to offer. In recognizing the importance of this seemingly ordinary building, the Tenement Museum has reimagined the role that museums can play in our lives.

The 'Power of Suggestion' can lead us down so many new and exciting roads. I certainly enjoyed following this one.....! As their 'Mission' states, "The Tenement Museum enhances appreciation for the profound role immigration has played and continues to play in shaping America's evolving national identity."  Let us never loose sight of how important immigration has been in creating the rich melting pot of cultures we enjoy today.


Road trip to New York City.....anyone?

LANDING IN NEW YORK CITY

COMMITMENT

A series of essays.....

.....as seen through my eyes!


By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



COMMITMENT

is tantamount to both success and failure. Whether we make this pledge to ourselves or to others, a course of action is demanded of us, as by position, custom, law, or religion. Upon making it, we may choose to see our commitment in many different ways and even perceive it as a burden, destined to drag us down into its dark, spiraling depths as we attempt to fulfill our obligations and duties. And, even though our initial intentions may have been fueled by passion and love, the job at hand could transpire into a wearisome and troubled journey, if we allow it..... However, we are not made to live strictly within our 'comfort zone.' Mankind is much more resilient to negative thoughts and, for the most part, resolves its own inadequacies and fears in order to extract a sense of accomplishment based on the commitments he or she has made.

"Commitment is doing the thing you said you were going to do long after the mood you said it in has left you."  ~Unknown~   

To say that we love is a commitment to our choice of giving ourselves to another and, once we have made it, we devote all of our physical and mental activities towards owning the experience because our commitment empowers us to do so. We should never feel enslaved by this choice. Love should never place restraints on the heart and soul in order to prove our intentions are real. If we truly commit to the  choice to love, our reward is bliss and great joy that is shared with those we are committed to. We should not have to beg for these things from those we love, but be given these things in return because we are equally loved. Taking responsibility for the welfare of an elderly person or a child with special needs requires a devotion so unselfish, honest, and true that the commitment made is worthy of all the respect and love needed to make it in the first place.

Athletes should respect and honor themselves while brandishing the results of a strong, powerful body, a healthy mind, and a positive outlook on life. True athletes commit to both physical and spiritual strength and have served us well as protector and warrior. Our soldiers marching off to war are athletes whose commitment to defend lives by possibly sacrificing their own, inspire all of us; they should be met with gracious approval.

If we do not commit to something within our lifetime then we have failed, for our first commitment should be to ourselves. We will reach an entire new level of experience in life when we achieve this. Lessons of kindness, responsibility, and the need to be the best we can be guide our lives on a course to success. If we do not have this control over our own lives, we may be destined for failure.

Life is short. It should not be wasted. Making a personal commitment to achieve a goal, no matter how big or small, is equal to making a commitment to someone else. It involves dedicating yourself to this agreement with yourself and knowing that there is nobody to let down but you. Excuses are not allowed if you wish to succeed. Always keep your goals in sight and commit to them and to yourself with an open heart, even in the face of adversity. Remember there is a sense of obligation whenever we make a commitment to another person. We should have that same sense of obligation to ourselves.

Think carefully and ask yourself, what are you committed to?


Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

SAYING "I LOVE YOU" FOR THE ONE HUNDREDTH TIME

A series of journeys.....

THE ROAD WELL TRAVELED

.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

We can all agree by now that life is an amazing journey filled with wanderlust, new beginnings, healthy lifestyle alternatives, brilliant stories, and interesting people lining the entire path. And, if we are fortunate enough, some will join us walking hand-in-hand every step of the way.

Today I am celebrating my one hundredth post on Moving On.....2015.  I am thinking how I'd like to gather each story in my arms and go with a huge 'Group Hug' right now, briefly pat myself on the back, and then tell myself to regroup and go create, at least, one hundred more!

Each time I post a story, I am sharing a part of me with all of you. It may be about a fleeting moment in time well spent chasing a dream or, in many cases, fulfilling a lifelong goal. I am opinionated and informative at the same time and serve to seek out your own thought-provoking ideas while encouraging stimulating discussions. No matter what the particular topic may be each week, every essay, collection, book review, conversation, and story is my way of telling the world just how much I love being a part of this process called LIFE....




In celebration of this particular milestone, I choose to thank several entities that have directed me along my own journey and honor each with a few short paragraphs of appreciation. If you have been following 'the ride' with me, you will recognize them. If you've recently joined my personal excursion into life's abundance and joy....you will delight in the emotions that have fueled my work and exposed my passions. The greatest of these is Love.

SANTA HAS VISITED IN THE NIGHT

Portage, Michigan: December 25, 2013

This morning, Christmas morning, has been blessed with feather-like snowflakes dancing around just beyond the mullioned window and resembling tiny ballerinas drifting down from the clouds. I have made my way downstairs a bit early so that I can prepare and place my breakfast quiche into the hot oven to bake. I am hoping the delicate aroma will tempt everyone downstairs soon...as if the prospect of opening Santa's goodies from beneath the tree isn't enticement enough.

ADRIAN O'CONNOR

Doolin, County Clare, Ireland: Adrian O'Connor, October, 2013

Adrian stood and told us he would be right back, as if, suddenly, remembering the kettle was on. He returned within moments carrying a small set of pipes that appeared as old and craggy as our dear friend. Okay, so I could barely make out his face four songs later due to the tears freely flowing from my eyes. I knew, as sure as the Irish sun was shining down upon us, as precious as the memory of a grandchild's kiss, as blissful as an invigorating walk through a green-splashed forest on a Sunday morning.....we were in the midst of a power so great and strong, it was bigger than all of us. Yet, it was all of us combined. Love isn't complicated. You just have to be aware of it with every breath you take. My 'tears of happiness' equaled nothing short of pure peace and solace in my life. Thank you my friend.....

MY FAVORITE PICTURE I
HAVE TAKEN OF LA TOUR EIFFEL

Paris, France: Any day of the year!!

So many remarkable stories fill my mind when I look at the amazing buildings of Paris! The flavors and tastes of Paris all enriched by her sumptuous beauty…just waiting to be unwrapped over and over again by ‘fresh eyes’ and open hearts! To stand on the balcony overlooking the quintessential icon of Paris, La Tour Eiffel, as I kiss the one I love so deeply, excites me beyond belief! It would be a privilege to call this place ‘our home,’ even for a moment in time, and immerse ourselves within the power and beauty of the most delicious city in the world! My heart has already arrived….

SAILING SHIPS OF WHITE LIGHT

Orlando, Florida: Joe Bonamassa Concert, December 19, 2014

Color creates moods; color changes moods. Color evokes memories and, in turn, produces responses from those memories. Yet, color is timeless. Color is ageless. It can be yesterday, today, or tomorrow and ebb and flow offering irregular outlines that shift like the seas with the tide.

Soft, powdery blues mixed with powerful beams of bright, white light spotlighted Joe and turned the stage into an extraterrestrial-like encounter as this eclectic mixture of talented musicians delivered an intricately textured, unplugged experience. At one point, the white illumination resembled sailing ships carrying the music across an imaginary sea and back to Europe, the place which lent its vintage flair to this acoustic blues set.

Nostalgia: February 5, 2015

Nostalgia, my old friend....  Why must I always find you lurking in the vast recesses of my mind, waiting, waiting for my vulnerability to emerge? Wrap me in your rose-tinted veil so that I may see all that I long for once more. Seduce me with your false promises and drown this present feeling of 'hope lost' so that I may smile and feel whole once again, if only for a short while.

EVA IBBOTSON

"I want to live like music sounds.": About author Eva Ibbotson, January 22, 2015

My journey into the life of this interesting female author began because of a quote online that struck me as one of the best 'writing prompts' I'd seen in a long while. Spoken by her character, Ruth, in the novel, The Morning Gift, Eva Ibbotson wrote, "I want to live like music sounds." There's something quite magical in this statement. How does this interesting quote affect you? Are you conjuring up all sorts of pictures in your head right now as I am? From the four most recognized notes (Big Bang Introduction) of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 to the haunting dirge called A Prayer sung by Madeleine Peyroux from her album Dreamland.....and all of that 'life' filling in the huge area in between, our lives are surrounded by the sounds, noise, and notes that swirl and collect around us every moment of our existence!

Patriotism: July 2, 2015

PATRIOTISM conjures up the image of tri-corner hats and the courageous warnings of an American silversmith and engraver. The vivid impression of a loved one marching off to protect and defend with the pending separation beating life's blood rhythmically between kindred hearts. "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.....!" The school day begins with white stars in a backdrop of deepest blue and broad red and white stripes etched against the industrial green walls of the classroom. Who doesn't recall, at some point in time, the irregular rhythm of halyard and snap hooks clanging against a metal flagpole just outside of an office building or in the schoolyard on a breezy day?

THE LOST ART OF COMMUNICATION ~~ SPEECH

Waterford Lakes, Florida: June 6, 2014

The foyer of the restaurant was comparatively small, just enough room to allow several people respite from a summer shower, if need be. The six of us occupying this enclosed, hollowed space created an unusual feeling of quietness after a few minutes. As we sat comparing notes in whispered tones on our side of the space, it was apparent that silence prevailed on the opposite side.

Texting a friend? Checking her messages? Deleting unnecessary emails? Checking game scores? Absolute quiet. With silent keyboards, there wasn't even the sound of 'clicking' to stir-up the atmosphere. Were we witnessing a complete disregard for the unique enjoyment of interacting with those physically close to us? Exchanging human contact with cyber interfacing instead? With minds compartmentalized by their own devices, mother and daughter, husband and wife, sat silently, deep within their private worlds.....for a very long time.

LEA LISTENING TO SOUND INFORMATION
FROM SHOP CLERK

Cocoa Village, Florida: September 25, 2015

Timeline: September 15, 1997
Google.com is registered as a domain. The name....a play on the word "googol," a mathematical term for the number represented by the numeral 1 followed by 100 zeroes, reflects Google's mission to organize and seemingly infinite amount of information on the web.

Timeline: September 25, 2015
Today I am being formally introduced to the quaint and beautiful little area known as Cocoa Village. Hidden in the midst of hundred-year-old oak trees along the banks of the Indian River, this community dates back to the 1860's. Having lived a mere thirty minutes away for nearly twenty years, why am only discovering this Historic Village now?

Because of my new, dear friends, Lea and Dave, whole new vistas have opened up for me. After enjoying coffee and conversation at Ossorio Bakery & Cafe on Brevard Avenue, Lea took me on a tour of the village, introducing me to shop owners, spoiling me with small, 'unusual' gifts, and making me feel like her beloved sister come to visit from around the world! I not only enjoyed the enchanting Southern experience, but my unselfish host made me feel like a 'Queen for a Day!'

Later we met up with Dave to experience a 'Diner' extravaganza for lunch. Good food and excellent company.....near perfection! Dave, a Mathematician, Engineer, and thirty-five year military veteran, enlightened me as to the interrelationship between Google.com and the mathematical term, 'googol,' for which I am exceedingly grateful.

Lea is trying to convince me to broaden my horizons and dabble in becoming a playwright. The funny part is that I am seriously thinking about it.

Our day together sadly came to an end and I found myself driving back up the 520 to connect with the Beachline Expressway and back home to Orlando. Conveniently, perhaps subconsciously, I left my umbrella in their car. Not that this act was needed to pull me back to this lovely area or into the company of these amazing friends. That will happen again soon. When one finds treasures such as this, you keep 'them' nearby for the rest of your life....

LOOKING UP AT  'BENBAUN'
THE PEAK OF DIAMOND HILL
IN CONNEMARA

Next week I will begin posting my second hundred stories. I can't help but wonder what intimate and surprising roads they will lead me down.



Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved