MOVING ON.....2024

A Note From The Author: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I am so happy to welcome in the new year, 2024!!! My Blog is changing-up a bit....mainly because I am evolving. Travel will always take precedence in my life and, my journeys will be shared with you. This 2024 version will offer a variety of new stories and personal ideas, as well. This is all about having fun and enjoying this Beautiful Journey called......Life!!!

Thursday, November 16, 2023

DON’T DIE WONDERING

 


A series of essays….




THE VALUE OF HAVING A GOOD CONSTITUTION

                      Image by artist Pedro X. Molina



….as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E Hughes



Life consists of many different levels of happiness, sadness, loneliness, surprises, with accolades bestowed upon worthy recipients in all fields, shapes, and sizes! Our heads and minds are being spun out of control by so much activity at any given time that, if given a title, vertigo may suit a situation, perfectly. So, I ask, when is the best time to throw in the towel and allow the brain to relax? Or, in today’s world—would that action even be wise given the intense pressure we live under?


Michael Langenmayr, of the Daily Kos, recently wrote an article entitled: "We are sleepwalking towards authoritarianism." I believe he hit it right on the head. Just as we remain in deep disbelief and denial of his four years in office with all of his lying and cheating in order to monetarily line his own pockets with ‘the people’s hard earned gold,’ his long-term plan to undermine the U.S. Constitution, our government, her citizens, and Democracy (with a big ‘D’) itself remains in constant motion.  Always moving forward towards his intended goals, he remains the venomous snake slithering in the tall grass.


We have handled his past actions with kid gloves—and continue to do so today under the title of ‘being fair,’ ‘after all, he was our president,’ and, ‘he’s a human being and a citizen of our nation and deserves justice.’ I ask you, does he, really? Does he deserve what I would call ‘special treatment’ after pitting us against one another and dividing our nation in two? I ask that he be treated, within our court system, as any other citizen of the United States would be treated. I ask for justice for all of us who have had our lives disrupted by this unethical and highly despicable man. 


“It doesn’t echo ‘Mein Kamph,’” says fascism expert and Yale professor, Jason Stanley, as drumpf compares political rivals to vermin, “This is textbook ‘Mein Kampf.’” Evidently, far from being a banned book in the very open and liberal environment he grew-up in, Mein Kamph served as Drumph’s bible, text book, and bedside reading material incorporating his pledge to “root out the Communists, Marxists, Fascists, and Radical Left Thugs that live like vermin.”



According to the Oxford Dictionary of English, the definition of vermin is: wild animals believed to be harmful to crops, farm animals or game and carry disease; parasitic worms or insects; people perceived as despicable and as causing problems for the rest of society. I ask you now, who, as any given individual with or without the power to impact minds and change the flow of democracy to suit his own agenda, spits in the face of innocent immigrants seeking a better life, discontinues programs meant solely to benefit the people, and forces his will on vulnerable politicians convincing them that his path is the righteous one? 


It seems to be a point of fact, given the past nearly eight years, that to even attempt to understand this lowly human being and what he says and does, one must take the words he spits out of his puckered mouth as the truth about himself, instead. When he speaks ill of others, one must turn the tables with the knowledge that he is speaking about what he has done, is currently doing, or will be doing in the future in order to become the leader of his newly formed authoritarian regime. He has always been demoralizing and self-serving.


His point of repetitiveness is a tactic that has been used throughout the ages to teach or convince others about anything you’d like them to believe. Placing an audio tape of my French lessons under my pillow and listening to its content over and over again may have helped me on my French quiz the following day, but it still remains a form of brainwashing. This is why repetitive chants of ‘lock her up’ can be so effective at bringing crowds of people together as one while convincing them that to lock her up is the best plan to follow.


Can you imagine how beautiful it would be to channel all of the energy he places in hate and fear into good deeds and programs that would benefit all of humankind? This is what President Biden has been doing throughout his presidency, as well as working on filling the ‘dark void’ created by his predecessor. 


But, if we truly are ‘sleepwalking towards authoritarianism,’ are we, the people, not half of the problem? Have zombie-like weaknesses inhibited our own stance on saving democratic ideals while allowing this long term plan of chaos and self-importance to become a reality? Do we truly believe that good will overtake evil even if we choose to sit back and do absolutely nothing about it?


Once again, the press is, effectively, trying to ‘even the playing field’ and stir the simmering pot of hate and fear by consciously pitting President Biden and close family members against the unraveling of our nation by a man whose criminal record and deeds (and those of his close family members) rival those of all of the mob bosses that have preceded him! 


These are not normal times. The things happening in this country right now are anything but making us feel normal. The standards by which we’ve come to know and respect in our lifetime are being dragged through the mud on a daily basis by thugs who idolize power over country and push all limits in order to grasp that power. Why are we allowing ourselves to ‘sleepwalk towards authoritarianism’ and refuse to wake up to the fact that all of this is actually happening? There are many people out there who want to participate in this ‘new regime,’ this Mein Kamph manifesto of one of history’s greatest antisemites and symbols of pure hate; the man that Donald idolizes and outlines his own political ideology and future plans for the United States of America!


Please ask yourself if we can afford to allow any of this to happen. Have we become so complacent and satisfied with the current situation that we are unconcerned with changing it? Drumph is attempting to change our lives by trashing America and her ideals—and is succeeding just by being able to run for president even after he’s been indicted for crimes against the democracy we hold so dear. He has not once shown any interest in making people’s lives better. Let’s face the facts. It all comes down to a choice between fascism and democracy and which one you and I will ultimately choose.


Are we capable of turning a blind eye to what is happening around us or will we be a part of the noise around us? Our job within the next year is to make the noise work for us! We have to filter all of the noise that is currently surrounding us, extract the positive, and take it ten steps further by letting our voices be heard, loud and clear. 


We need a good storyteller in the White House. Someone who will represent the Biden Administration, the Democratic Party, in a positive manner while teaching the entire American public, not just those of us who wish to keep our country thriving under democracy, about our nation’s history, current status, as well as setting a future for her people that holds all lives valuable, healthy, and strong. We need a storyteller to point out the achievements of those working hard to make the economy improve, provide healthcare for all, offer new jobs to the jobless, give hope for the future instead of trashing America, and make life that much better day after day. Let’s find our storyteller!


I am only one person who has lived long enough to see the imbalances of good versus evil and understands the differences between them. Who am I to give references on how to improve life for all of us, you might ask. I am an American citizen who loves her country and will not die left wondering if we were strong enough to thwart this threatening evil brought on by the power hungry liars, cheaters, and narcissists of this world. Let’s wake up and stop our ‘sleepwalking towards authoritarianism!’ Become active and learn to make lots and lots of good noise.


Copyright © 2023 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved


Thursday, November 9, 2023

LE JOURNAL 4: NAVIGATING WALES

 

A series of essays….



SNOWDON AND LLYN LLYAW ON A BLISSFUL SEPTEMBER DAY

….as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E Hughes



Wales consists of a myriad of small paved roads, but mostly even narrower lanes that we might call ‘two tracks’ composed of two dirt tracks carved by the tires that utilize them, day-in and day-out, and the natural grass that grows between them.   


The main, paved roads, will eventually get you through small towns, as well as draw one into populated areas such as Cardiff in the south or Anglesey to the north. Some of the main roads meander across the mountain ridges with an open expanse of land and sky that can blow your mind with its natural beauty and soften the heart by placing humans in their proper perspective with the planet we inhabit. 


I believe we drove on nearly each and every road and lane that spoked-out from our cozy little stone cottage in Llansilin along the Wales and English border. We learned quickly that it was necessary to recalculate our way of thinking when it came to travel time from any given place to another. In the States, we generally calculate driving time at approximately one minute per mile, or highway travel at sixty miles per hour. Mostly due to the narrow lanes, constant twists and turns, and, literally, squeezing by other vehicles along the way, we had to mentally prepare ourselves for the reality of traveling in Wales. 











THE SMALL ‘TWO TRACKS’ ROADS OF WALES


SAMPLES OF ROADS AS WE
NAVIGATED WALES


















If we were to plan a trip, let’s say, from Kalamazoo to South Haven, we would assume travel time to be around a thirty minute drive. Navigating Wales, this same trip would take nearly five times as long; in essence, a thirty minute drive has now become close to two and a half hours. This is no exaggeration and I can’t even imagine if we had to deal with major downpours or(heaven forbid) snow!


Dan and I have always opted to rent a car and navigate our destinations ourselves via maps and/or GPS. It’s been our desire to feel close to the local  people by being able to go and stop wherever and whenever we want to. It has, usually, worked very well for us in other places throughout the years, including the narrow roads of Ireland and Scotland. 


The topography of Wales, which includes the arrangement of its natural and artificial physical features, lends itself beautifully to this curvaceous rhythm and pattern which includes mountain ranges, waterfalls, rock formations, stone bridges, ancient stone farmhouses (never to be relocated), and churches that help to denote populated settlements from hundreds of years before.


Navigating Wales includes knowing that there is no straight route to anywhere or anything. Nothing is flat. Even the roads along the coastline coming up from the sea have you climbing up to the heavens, and looking back, the view from there is nothing less than spectacular! Our day trip along the coastline heading down to St. Davids and Pembrokeshire was time consuming (but, with spectacular views of the sea, mountains, and rolling green landscapes—who really cares?). Stopping in small, coastal villages to eat and take a walk to stretch tightened muscles and weary bones was always a memorable reprieve from car travel.





ABERARTH ALONG ST. GEORGE’S CHANNEL


ST. DAVIDS CATHEDRAL


ALONG PEMBROKESHIRE NATIONAL PARK



In order to fully enjoy the beauty of Wales and her people, I would highly recommend to adjust your visit accordingly. Our allotted week should have stretched to at least two or three in order to justify exploring all of Wales. Or, if one week is all you have, may I suggest dividing Wales into two sections and exploring one half on your initial visit and the second half at another time. The whole of Wales may be small in size (8024 square miles and slightly smaller than the state of New Jersey), but her natural beauty packs such a powerful and everlasting punch that you will want to return again and again.


One of our favorite days was finding the road leading to the mountains of  Snowdonia in the county of Gwynedd, Wales. How does one lose an entire mountain in the first place, you might ask. Having a husband/fellow traveler with a creative sense of humor often leads to unique scenarios. 


Snowdonia National Park covers most of Gwynedd County and consists of mountains comprised of old hard rock cut by Ice Age glaciers. The park takes its name from Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa in Welsh), a peak with an elevation of 3,560 feet, and the highest point in England and Wales. Snowdon lies in the middle of this ancient mountain range and can be difficult to pinpoint due to its central location, as well as the lack of signage along the roads leading up to it. A rack-and-pinion railway (opened in 1896), similar to the clink-clank of a climbing roller coaster, runs from the village of Llanberis to the summit and down to the base on the other side of Snowdon. It has easily become the pride and joy of Snowdonia.


Leaving our little stone cottage on our way to Snowdonia National Park to the  west, Dan decided, since we’d been driving near and around the park for several days, not to use GPS or maps or his navigator wife to guide him. The small lanes we navigated twisted, turned, followed open mountain ridges with meandering sheep our trusty companions, and sunk low into green valleys where tall hedges running along each side of our car often blocked our views of the Welsh landscape. As tourists attempting to capture the beauty of Wales as much as possible, these hedges (purposed by the farmers of the region to secure privacy for themselves) were very unsettling. The roads, already tunnel-like, now seemed sunken and gave us an eerie claustrophobic feeling as the colors green and sky blue totally encased us.


Making it over to where I perceived Snowdon to be, Dan would say, There it is! Let’s get out and take some pictures! After a third stop for pictures and much skepticism and questioning on my part, his grin flashed a mile wide. Was he really trying to avoid visiting Snowdon and trying to pass off so many different mountains as the famed Snowdon with its scenic railroad route?


Following the A5 west and with a brief stop at the very touristy village of Betws-y-Coed, I purchased a paperback novel at the local bookstore and a bottle of water for the road. We swung left onto the A4086 at Capel Curig and I thought, Now we’re getting somewhere! Again, not many signs (if any at all) directing us to the beloved Snowden. 


Thinking back on it now, maybe that was the point in the first place. Maybe if our hearts and minds were in the right place, we didn’t need anyone directing us to this stunning, iconic mountain nestled in the middle of some of the most dynamic  Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty (AONB) that Wales has to offer.


Turning south onto the A498 and following others looking up in awe at the sheer height and shadowed beauty of Snowdon, we parked along a short rock wall that separated us from the base of the mountain and Llyn Llydaw, the lake that gently curves and hugs its base along the southeast side and is said to be one of the possible locations associated with Excalibur’s Lady of the Lake fame.





PICTURES OF THE WANING 
GIBBOUS MOON


SEPTEMBER 1, 2023
TRAVELING HOME FROM SNOWDON



Taking pictures of the natural beauty that surrounded us was a privilege. The sun showered its golden light down upon Snowdon and the impressive lake, creating multi-colored shadows on the side of the mountain and sparkling lights on the lake’s surface as if it was a spectacular holiday light show! And the people, including Dan and myself, couldn’t speak as we tried to capture this moment in time and hold it deep within us….for a lifetime.


It took us at least ten minutes to formulate real words after leaving Snowdon and I’m not often speechless. So, why were you playing games with me earlier about the correct location of the mountain?, I asked, as Dan navigated us back down to pickup the A5 and head home. Was it just your attempt at being funny and trying to mess with me?


Well, I figured that by navigating all of those small roads and crossing over narrow bridges and being off of the beaten track would be the best way to see more of Wales in its true light, he said, as he maneuvered onto a narrow lane with another car heading directly toward us. Dan slowly came to a complete stop with our car tipping slightly sideways up the green bank, directly into the shadow of the tall, grassy hedges. 


After the other car passed, with a cursory wave from its driver, we turned towards one another and began laughing until the tears obstructed our vision. Catching our breath, Dan finally said, Let’s get back home. We’re only ten miles away but, according to my calculations—it’s going to take us about an hour to get there. And, he was absolutely right!




   THE RED DRAGON OF WALES
                                                  REPRESENTS THE WELSH PEOPLE’S

                                           FIGHTING SPIRIT AND RESILIENCE



Copyright © 2023 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

Photos Copyright © 2023 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved







Friday, November 3, 2023

GENERATIONS OF EMBRACING YOUR INNER CHILD

 


A series of essays….




FIVE OF THE CUTEST TRICK-OR-TREATERS—EVER!



….as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E Hughes


It really doesn’t take much more than a keen imagination to enjoy the true meaning of Halloween. It’s simply a matter of having fun and allowing our inner child to lead the way—even if it’s for only one day each year!


As a daughter, mom, and grandmother myself, I’ve enjoyed many years of getting into the Halloween spirit, either through my own children or their children, and holding on to the inner child within me. It might be as simple as turning on the porch light and hoping to have the neighborhood kids and their friends step-up on the porch fully costumed and excited to receive their treat.


Because there are so few children who come down our dead-end street (appropriately named), we’ve resorted to becoming the cool house on the block by passing out full-sized candy bars and keeping the porch light on until after eight. 


We haven’t dressed-up in a costume for quite some time, but have never lost the true spirit that acknowledges this quirky time of the year. As grandma, I’ve walked around our daughter’s neighborhood with our son-in-law taking the  grands from house to house in search of free sugary delights.  Later, the candy would be sorted on the living room floor, exchanged between one another according to personal tastes, and gratefully offered to the adults in the room if the treat did not meet expectations. 





THE NIGHT’S BOUNTY IS
DIVIDED AND CONQUERED



As a child, I’ve walked side-by-side with my older brother down one block after another at Halloween. I still marvel at the ingenuity of my Mom when it came to making costumes for us. With money constraints in mind and having been a child of the Great Depression, she would always ask us what we would like to be each Halloween and then set out to make it happen—stretching her imagination and materials as far as humanly possible. 


Ronnie became a hobo who carried his belongings in a large scarf that was tied to a long stick and hoisted on his shoulder. I recall him parodying a player of many sports (baseball, football, tennis, and basketball). My costumes ranged from a colorful butterfly with gossamer wings attached to my shoulders, similar to the straps on my school backpack, to a clown with colorful clothes and wearing a thick, red smile on my face.


One Halloween, sacrilegious or not, I asked Mom if I could be the Blessed Virgin. I was at the age when attending a Catholic grade school and learning about helping those in need made a significant impact on many of us kids and I was beginning to see myself dressed all in white and taking the vows of ‘missionary sisterhood’ in order to travel all over the world to help others. Granted, this seems self serving in every way considering my love for travel was always in the back of my mind. But, so was the kindness towards those in need that the nuns preached to us about every day.


While dressed in a light blue robe and veiled in a soft, white material that was held tight with a plastic headband, Ronnie and I set out to fill the pillow cases we held with goodies. We were making good headway when we came upon a house a distance away from home that had kids shaking their heads as they walked off the porch. Don’t bother, one boy said. When we got to the door it was opened with a squeak and an older lady, standing not much taller than myself, handed us a slice of white bread saying, This is all I have, but I wanted to give you something and see all of your fine costumes tonight! 


Ronnie scoffed and turned to navigate her porch steps back down to the sidewalk. Looking into her tired eyes, I saw how sincere she was and patted her hand while thanking her for her ‘treat.’ Her smile was well worth it. Lessons were learned that particular Halloween and I will never forget her impact on me.


Dan and I decided to prank Ali and Eric one Halloween by dressing-up, identities disguised as a dirty, old man (mask) for Dan and I became Mike Myers from the movie, Halloween. We lived in Orlando at the time and traveled forty-five minutes to their house in Champions Gate. They opened the front door to our chorus of trick-or-treat as we proceeded to walk directly into their foyer invading their space and wondering how they’d react to such pushy trick-or-treaters.


They were way too polite and asked what was going on and if we would please step back onto the porch. When we heard the bit of panic in our daughter’s voice, we removed our masks and received a pummeling from her in return. Even though that was close to eighteen years ago, I believe there was a lesson learned that night, as well. 


Mom may have used what materials she had lying around the house to fulfill our Halloween dreams, but our daughters are more than happy to purchase these dreams for their kids from the local pop-up Halloween shop or an online store and have it delivered to their house. There are flashbacks of Woody from the movie Toy Story, a Michigan State cheerleader, a Ninja Warrior, a smiling, blue Narwhal, a French chef, and numerous Disney Princesses throughout the years.


Still, my favorite was the costume she put together for her son when he was two years old. We called him the ‘Little Man.’ With a gray Fedora covering his blond/white hair, Oxford shirt and tie, patterned vest, and dress pants with black shoes—the piece de resistance had to be his hand drawn mustache and snappy smile. 





WHAT A HANDSOME ‘LITTLE MAN’



My generation of Halloween moms kept McCall’s, Butterick, and Vogue sewing patterns in business. And, for the most part, we cut out and sewed together the ghastly witches, perky Raggedy Anns, princesses, Wonder Woman, orange and red clowns, pale blue fairies with gossamer wings costumes, plus so many more! I enjoy sewing and this was the perfect opportunity to savor the results of my efforts and share them  with my kids each year.


The ‘Perfect Halloween Storm’ arrived when we lived on State Street (a main road) in Eaton Rapids back in the early ‘80’s and our Victorian home was the ideal setting for it to happen. The weather was warm, the sidewalks were trafficked by local trick-or-treaters, as well as all of the children hauled in from the surrounding rural areas. We provided the somber porch lighting and sound affects to set the mood which included a frightening Halloween cassette playing on one of the kid’s boomboxes set-up in the corner of the foyer. The lights flashed off and on and the thick eight foot tall, oak entrance door squeaked when slightly moved.  


That year, including running back to the store to replenish our candy stock, we counted approximately 550 pieces of candy given out. Not to mention sharing a million laughs, the wide-eyed looks from those under five years old, a few tears from over stimulated porch visitors, and happy parents wearing broad smiles as their little munchkins held up their opened containers to have us add to their night’s bounty. 


Three generations of women. Three generations of moms getting in touch with their inner child. Three generations of doing it their own way with the outcome being just as charming and delightful for each child involved. Kudos to all of the men who have worked just as hard throughout the years to place smiles on the faces of their little ones. There is something quite magical about Halloween; a celebration of fun and the lack of inhibitions that sparks genuine enthusiasm and sharpens the imagination in all of us.


Hope you enjoyed your Halloween this year…!



Copyright © 2023 by Jacqueline E Hughes 

All rights reserved