IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL.......LOIRE VALLEY STYLE!

A series of essays.....

CHATEAU DE NOIZAY ~ LOIRE VALLEY ~ FRANCE

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

"No Way! Absolutely, no way! You did not.....!" The lingering sound of my repeated responses echo in my ears to this day and I make no apologies for being so adamant about uttering them, loud and clear. I was in shock, awe, and total amazement at the time!

It all started to play out when the six of us were relaxing in the family room staring at the colorful screen. Dan had connected my Canon EOS to the television in order to conveniently show pictures from our most recent trip to France.

Our daughter, Ali, and son-in-law, Eric, were sitting on the cushy, beige love seat while our mutual friends, Jim and Florence, opted for the floor in front of the television. We had recently enjoyed a spectacular, (if I do say so myself), French meal I had prepared in order to thank Florence for her many suggestions of places to stay and people to meet while we were in Provence.

Florence was born and raised in Aix-en-Provence, a beautiful metropolitan city located in the region of Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur and in the department of Bouches-du-Rhone, just to the north of Marseille. Many French citizens from this area are blessed with a warm, olive complexion with cool, jewel undertones that is derived from their close proximity to Italy. Given her name, Florence, and gorgeous skin tones, it's easy to see that she has been blessed with both French and Italian heritage.

FLORENCE ~ OLIVE SKIN WITH JEWEL UNDERTONES

"Merci beaucoup, mon amie, for such a lovely dinner," she chirped while settling down to see my shots of her stunning homeland. "The cream-filled meringue was superb and nearly like my dear Mother's who would make it almost every Sunday for dessert. But, you outdid yourself with the Cassoulet! I am reminded of home with each tender bite."

I recall having so much fun putting the menu together for this 'thank you' meal. Based on many meals Dan and I had recently enjoyed while in Provence, along with my favorite 'go to' cookbook, Flavors of France, I was able to throw myself headfirst into each delicious course.

Still, for me, the most amazing part of the meal was being able to pair the appropriate French wine with each course based upon the reds, whites and sweet 'dessert' selections we had shipped back to us from the vineyards around Chateauneuf-du-Pape village and wine appellation in the southern Rhone. Yes, this village is well entwined with the seductive history of the area and the town of Avignon and the subsequent "Avignon Popes" who helped to promote the wines of this lush Rhone River region.  I am especially partial to the gloriously rich, red wines of this area, redolent of the heat and herbs of the south of France. Each delicious sip sweeps me back to the Department of the Vaucluse where we lived for a week in the hilltop village of Sablet.

It appeared that Florence and I had many things in common as when she commented on a certain brand of French automobile I had photographed because I particularly liked it. "This is one of my favorite cars," she exclaimed. "But, I wish they would export them to the United States." I did, too.

Jim and Florence met when they were both employed by Club Med Resort located on the pristine beaches and warm tropical waters of the sunny Caribbean island of Martinique. "An overseas region of France, Martinique has an eclectic blend of French, Creole and African influences," Florence informed us. Jim added, "This rich heritage of Martinique is evident in everything from the cuisine to the languages spoken by its inhabitants. We really enjoyed working there, seeing all of the happy, relaxed faces and, of course, falling in love there ourselves!"

Since then, they have traveled all over the world, working at many different jobs along the way, until, finally, settling down in the Orlando area. Successfully working at Walt Disney World for many years now, Dan and I were fortunate to have met them while they were looking to build their home in the same subdivision that Ali and Eric were going to build in. Ultimately, they ended up locating across the street from one another and became fast friends, watching each other's cats and picking-up the mail when the other traveled away from home.

Initially, I told Florence of our plans to visit Provence the following year to celebrate our wedding anniversary during September. "I can give you so many ideas of where to go, Jackie! That is where I grew up and I have so many wonderful memories," she informed me, smiling from ear to ear. "You must explore Avignon. I worked as a guide at the Musée du Petit Palais for one year. It is a beautiful art gallery right next to the Palais des Papes and it opened in 1976 and has an exceptional collection of Renaissance paintings. And, of course, the Palais des Papes, (Papal Palace), is a must see as it is one of the largest and most important Medieval Gothic buildings in Europe, has housed the Avignon Popes, and was rival to the Vatican!"

Her passion extended to the city of Orange with its Roman 'Theatre Antique,' as well as the lovely hilltop village of Gordes that overlooks Le Verger Bed & Breakfast, (LE PETIT-DÉJEUNER AT LE VERGER), owned and operated by her friends, Jean-Phillippe and Daniele Rossi.....and, where we must stay. We did and have fallen in love with everything about it. The town of L'Isle-sur-la-Sorgue would offer us the best of French antique shopping, cuisine and beauty. It certainly did. And, we must look-up her two friends who owned a small shop along the Grand Rue of Les Baux-de-Provence, after we walk the ancient grounds of the Chateaux des Baux, of course! It was amazing! We couldn't find the small souvenir shop, however, and missed her friends that day.

Sitting close to Dan on the leather couch as he clicked through the final shots of our Provence slideshow and, much to the chagrin of our daughter and son-in-law, I suggested that we put up a few of our pictures from an earlier visit to France. This particular excursion included a stay in the Loire Valley, exploring the Island of St. Michel,  spending a leisurely day taking many photos at Giverny, the home of the great French artist, Claude Monet, and, ultimately, Paris.

"I promise not to show them all, just the highlights," I announced.

"Oh, Mom.....Eric and I would like to get home sometime tonight. Besides, we've seen them before," Ali complained.

"Patience, my dear. I fed you well tonight," my determination fueled by the look on Florence's face that was torn between respecting Ali's wishes and, clearly, wanting to see more pictures. The two couples made the forty-five minute drive over to our home together in one car and Jim's expression shouted, "I don't want to lose my ride back home!"

Ali soon acquiesced in her decision and settled back into the love seat beside Eric to journey through another portion of France.

Moments later I was verbalizing my genuine disbelief by shouting those words, "No Way! Absolutely, no way! You did not....," as a definite French accent was mimicking my uncontrolled expressions. "No! That's impossible! But, I recognize that room, the draperies, the bed alcove, the fireplace.......!" exclaimed a confused Florence. Jim's mouth was open forming a huge letter 'O' as his eyes grew wider and his wife was pulling his arm up and down. Comically, Jim resembled an old fashioned well pump being primed by Florence's exuberance at seeing our pictures of the Chateau de Noizay up on the screen.

 LOBBY OF

CHATEAU DE NOIZAY

Things like this take place in a matter of a few moments. Then, one must sit back, take in a few long, deep breaths, and try to make sense out of everything.

Considering the Loire is the longest river in France and the Loire Valley has been called "The Garden of France" and is studded with over a thousand chateaux, covering a wide range of variations, it soon became evident that something highly unlikely and against all odds had occurred. Coupled with the fact that Dan and I were absolutely unaware of their itinerary regarding their latest visit to France, this incident would be chalked-up to pure coincidence!

It appeared that Florence and I had both booked a room at the same chateau for our personal Loire Valley visits. Also, after studying each photo at length, it appeared that each of us was given the identical bedroom within the chateau for our separate two-night stays!

A brief insight: The 'Chateau de Noizay,' a Relais & Chateau property, sits in the heart of the Loire Valley and the Vouvray vineyards. Each of its nineteen, count them, nineteen bedrooms has its own unique decor featuring authentic period furnishings.

"We stayed in the very same bedroom, slept in the same bed, and enjoyed an identical view offered by the large windows facing the back courtyard of the chateau," I stated. "What are the odds of this happening?"

Calming down a bit herself, Florence remarked, "I don't really know. I mean....I can almost certainly see the same chateau because it is so beautiful. But, the very same room? That is outstanding!"

Dan and Jim chimed in by expressing their amazement, as well. In truth, I secretly believe that they were both highly entertained by the spectacle that had recently played-out before them.

Two grown women who were born an ocean apart yet shared the love of a country so beautiful and unique, filled with historical import, infused with delicious cuisine, and tempered by gentle people who believe in the power of living each day to the fullest......suddenly realized how much their worlds had recently overlapped.

A short while later, Dan and I were waving good-bye to our guests from the front door. I couldn't help but think, as the red taillights trailed left and, eventually, out of our subdivision, how the universe has its own special way and appropriate time of telling each of us that we are interconnected and loved.....



Please check-out Le Verger at this Website:         www.levergerenluberon.com


Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

"THE ONLY LESSON YOU CAN LEARN FROM HISTORY IS THAT IT REPEATS ITSELF"

A series of essays.....

THE 'MUST SEE' FILM BY: BOBBY LEIGH

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


"Those damn Bolsheviks!" is the quote from my dear, long departed, Ukrainian Grandfather, Antone Moshak, that has lived deep inside my soul ever since I was a little girl. He was so adamant and repetitious that, as a child, it became my grandfather's 'battle cry' and was guaranteed to set the stage for his evening conversations. He could be stubborn as a mule and, as I grew older, with several history lessons later, I began to understand why.

My title is a quote by the author of the book The Great Pearl of Wisdom, Bangambiki Habyarimana. This quote, in time, may serve to gauge and determine the future of our world as we know it. Will we continue to allow history to repeat itself as if on a 'looped' playback continuously showing us pictures of inhumane atrocities such as the 'Irish Potato Famine' in the nineteenth century, the Jewish Holocaust from the period of 1933 to 1945, and the current starvation tactics of the Syrian civil war with all of the innocent victims and refugees it has created?

An author of nineteen distinct works, Bangambiki is a community worker who assists young adults in the fight against HIV AIDS through education and counseling in Mozambique. He is a young man who is wise beyond his years. "Miscellaneous thoughts and insights on life come to me when I am alone gazing at the starry sky at night, walking by the sea, through the wood, watching people at a party, going to the market, by a chance encounter, or when my sleep fails me."

Reading Bangambiki's quote, recalling the remote look in my grandfather's eyes, and digesting the word 'Holodomor' several times within the past few weeks, has filled me with conflicting emotions.

If you've never heard of the term Holodomor before, you are not alone. It may even sound like a character straight out of a J. R. R. Tolkien novel. Sadly, it is not. Learning about Holodomor, pronounced: 'huh-luh-duh-more,' according to The Connecticut HOLODOMOR Awareness Committee, I can almost identify with the distant look in grandpa's eyes that filled with unequivocal hatred with each cry of "Those damn Bolsheviks!" 

The literal Ukrainian definition of the word Holodomor is: "Death by forced starvation."

BOBBY LEIGH

My recent inquisitiveness was sparked by a gentleman by the name of Bobby Leigh. I met Bobby online and his vibrant and colorful personality enriched my imagination right from the beginning! Bobby is a twelve-time, Award Winning Filmmaker and has over twenty years in the Music and Entertainment Business where he has produced and/or toured with such Rock-n-Roll legends as Aerosmith, Kiss, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Quiet Riot, just to name a few. Author, Film Director, Producer, Actor, and Visionary at Moksha Films, Bobby keeps busy these days, and rightfully so!

November 17, 2015, Bobby shared a press release on his Facebook Page that immediately caught my attention:

"PRESS RELEASE: My Film "HOLODOMOR: Ukraine's Genocide" will be screening in SAN FRANCISCO this Weekend on Saturday 21 November 2015 at the Main San Francisco Public Library at 2:00-4:00 PM. Koret Auditorium, lower level. FREE. Please come and show support for our movie. Q & A following screening with writer/director/producer: Bobby Leigh & producer: Marta Tomkiw."

Logline: “The biggest lie, the best kept secret.”

Considering my family's roots and knowing that many of my relatives still live and thrive in the Ukraine today, I desired to view this film myself if it would shed even more light on the hatred I recalled in my grandfather's eyes. Short of flying out to California, I wrote to Bobby and asked where and when it might be showing near me or if I could purchase a copy of "Holodomor" for myself. Up to this point in my life, I had yet to see pictures, film or any footage of this horrific event that would help me understand this deep, dark, and sad history of the Ukrainian people.  Bobby's 'Log Line' seemed to be holding true.

I presumed that his great passion for exposing this dark secret in history was connected with his own heritage and asked him if this were the case. In true Bobby fashion, he replied, "I'm not Ukrainian. I made this movie because, once I found out about this subject, I was pissed off that I was not taught this at University. I felt that this story needed to be told." He proceeded to send me a copy of his film for my perusal.

I must ask how many of you are familiar with this historical event yourselves? If you are, when and where were you exposed to it? Did you learn about it in any level of your formal education? Do you have family or friends who talked about it? Considering the Holodomor is a major blot on the history of the world, equal to the Holocaust, (which means "sacrifice by fire"), brought about by the Nazis who came to power in Germany in 1933, why isn't it just as prominent within our fundamental education?

I know that Bobby must have asked himself this last question a million times.

If over six million Jews could be obliterated by a regime led by Hitler under the auspices of 'racial superiority,' blind power, and pure hatred, then how could over 30,000 men, women, and children in Ukraine die each day in the height of this famine-genocide in 1933 and the world not be aware of it?

To get the answer to this question, one must look briefly into the history of Russia.

In 1917, the Bolsheviks, led by Vladimir Lenin, take power in Russia. The Soviet Union is formed in 1922 with Ukraine becoming one of the republics. Soon afterwards, Lenin dies and Joseph Stalin ascends to power and introduces a program of agricultural collectivization in 1928 that forces farmers to give up everything they own to factory-like collective farms......and then were told to work on these farms in order to exist with no compensation whatsoever.

Proud and successful Ukrainian farmers, labeled Kurkuls, refuse to return to earlier serfdom and in 1929 Stalin introduces a policy of 'class warfare' in order to breakdown resistance. The following year, nearly a half a million people are dragged from their homes, packed into freight trains and shipped to remote areas such as Siberia where they are left to perish from starvation and inclement weather.

Between 1932 and 1933, the population of entire Ukrainian villages are wiped-out due to the blockades erected around them preventing the transport of food into them, locking the hungry inside. Stalin is determined to 'teach a lesson through famine' and, ultimately, deal a crushing blow to the backbone of Ukraine, it's rural population.

By 1934, approximately ten million deaths, including three million children, and nearly twenty-five percent of the Ukrainian population, are attributed to starvation within the borders of Soviet Ukraine, not including deportation, executions, or natural deaths. Stalin denies forced famine in the Ukraine and continues to export millions of tons of grain to the outside world.

In my estimation, denial, denial, denial was generated on all sides of this horrific situation which included Western governments who adopted a passive attitude toward the famine, even though they had become aware of the suffering in Ukraine via confidential diplomatic channels. Franklin Roosevelt, newly elected in 1933, recognized Stalin's government and turned a 'blind eye' to the famine due to a lucrative trade agreement with the Soviet Union. Shame on all of us who see monetary gain and power as the holy grail rather than the bane of our existence. Definitely, another prime example of history repeating itself.

Early on, my grandparents lived through and recognized the inevitable results of the initial Bolshevik uprising. To pull-up stakes, forsake family ties, and emigrate to an unknown place, put them at risk every step of the way. Survival itself takes on its own risks and would it not be better to hope for a future and do something about it than to perish with no hope left at all? Literally, standing here today, I am most grateful to my proud and heroic grandparents for choosing to be safe and free, no matter what the cost.

 BOBBY LEIGH WITH MOKSHA FILMS

It is because of good people like Bobby Leigh and others associated with Moksha Films who recognize injustice and choose to expose it rather than keep it under wraps like a skeleton pushed into the depths of a dark, foreboding closet filled with secrets and denial. Bobby's documentary, "HOLODOMOR: Ukraine's Genocide," should be viewed, discussed, analyzed, and included in every school curriculum throughout the world and adapted to all languages until this tragic famine-genocide of the Ukrainian people is recognized and catalogued for what it was, an atrocity against millions of innocent people for political and personal gains.

Thank you, Bobby Leigh.....!

On November 28, 2006, according to The Connecticut Holodomor Committee, the Parliament of Ukraine passed a decree defining the Holodomor as a deliberate 'Act of Genocide.' Although the Russian government continues to call Ukraine's depiction of the famine a "one-sided falsification of history," it is now recognized as genocide by over two dozen nations.

Many Ukrainians survived to give eyewitness accounts of this abomination. Bobby has featured several survivors and their brief testimonies in his documentary. Their personal recollections sent chills down my spine as I watched their tears flow freely when speaking about personal experiences during this execution by hunger.

The Spanish philosopher and poet, George Santayana, once said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." Are we doomed to repeat the past by being so disingenuous as many of our politicians and leaders are today? My hope is that the solemn words of Bangambiki Habyarimana are incorrect when he says, "The only lesson you can learn from history is that it repeats itself." 

Only by understanding the genocides of the past can we hope to prevent others from occurring in our lifetime. Yet, armed with all of this information, we may already be too late. I pray that we are able to aid the people of Syria and harbor the Syrian refugees before the statistics prove that all hope is fleeting.

Now that I understand my grandfather better, I realize that the stoic look emanating from his ancient eyes culminated from deep within himself as he constantly remembered what was, and was saddened by never being able to know what could have been.

Lovingly, I dedicate this essay to my Ukrainian Grandmother and Grandfather, Alexandria and Antone Moshak.



You can visit Bobby online at: 

 www.facebook.com/BobbyLeighAuthor
www.HOLODOMORthemovie.com   

Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

HAPPINESS IS MY INSPIRATION

A series of essays.....

STANDING AT THE SUMMIT ~ CONNEMARA NATIONAL PARK, 2013

.....as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


I am back at the controls on my weekly blog site after enjoying a busy and memorable two weeks with family and friends in Michigan. Embracing the joy that a 'picture-window framed,' crisp Winter's morning in Kalamazoo has to offer helps to set the world right again. Relearning to appreciate wearing long pants and completely covering my feet with socks and shoes/boots is quite another story. Then there's the application of heavy coat, scarf, gloves, and a five minute prep-time before even opening the door to battle the elements outside!

If living up in the Tundra in winter seems less simplified for me now, accepting that the new year has placed another notch on the trusty old No.2 in my hand has been bittersweet. Certain aspects of 'change' and catering to 'what's new' excites me greatly, including having to update 'Moving On.....2015' to the new year, 2016, along with all that implies with regard to my writing. Truthfully, life excites me! Allowing creativity to control my very essence and bring new and adventurous ideas to the table, sets the stage for a stronger, more interesting, and heartfelt communication between myself and you, the reader.

LIVING & DINING SPACE BEFORE ANY CHANGES

MADE TO OUR MICHIGAN 'COTTAGE'

Having our own little 'getaway' near all of the children has allowed me, after twenty years, to see the broader picture of change on a very personal level. My minor aches and pains seem so trivial when compared to having my own child suffer in any way. I now must pacify my maternal instincts, feelings of helplessness, by knowing that they are capable of calling the doctor for an appointment if something seems serious enough. After all, they've been doing a brilliant job with their own children for years now!

Even though it is sad to have the second set of adorable babies in my life grow-up right before my eyes, I see these magnificent little children turning into young adults with every birthday celebration; each pleasant occasion marking new physical changes, mental growth and maturity, and a stronger intellect encompassing each child.

I have said this many times before: Life is about being able to handle the transitions in your life with grace, style and class. For some reason, these three, small words elude the best of us when it comes to dealing with age, absence, and aloneness. We do the best job we can of coping with these three 'A's,' so to speak, knowing full well that life will throw curve balls as much as high-speed fastballs at us on any given day.

When I began this blog site back in September of 2013, I had just returned from Ireland having climbed to the summit of a mountain, hiked many miles within the lushness that only this Emerald Isle has to offer, and met the most interesting local people, as well as many travelers from all over the world! We lived in a small cottage built over one hundred and sixty years before and walked land previously tread on by Saints and Kings! We luxuriated within the stories of modern-day troubadours who highlighted them with trills from ancient bagpipes and the rolling, pulsating rhythm of the Bodhran (Irish drums).

My happiness was my inspiration for creating this blog site.

Initially, my happiness was centered around my Irish conversations, footsteps, lifting frosty Guinness mugs, and the clicks of my Canon Camera as I snapped picture after picture in a wild attempt to permanently capture my adventures.....frame by frame. The moments I was able to secure were lovingly brought back and served to illustrate my stories and help explain my deep, abiding love of all things Irish.

Turning the corner into a brand new year, 2014, my previous travels to France, St. Martin, Aruba, and Ireland were well worth a story or two in and of themselves. So, it was a privilege to recall, through my journals and personal memories, the many engaging adventures we had experienced with each trip and then illustrate them with photos I had taken at the time. I was thrilled to have this broad, Internet  platform where I was able to share my 'adventures of a lifetime' with others and, actually, enjoy reading the feedback from other travelers, as well as those interested in traveling themselves in the future. I knew I must be doing something right and, it felt so good.

OUR 'WORK IN PROGRESS'

Moving On........2015 brought a new and stronger platform for me in content and personal opinions when I realized that my appreciation of people in general, especially among those who have endured negativity yet processed it into a positive scenario, would be interesting to write about. My newest forum aligned with current events, stories concerning human strengths and tragedy, and people who intrigued me and touched my own life by their noted talents and deeds.

The life stories of established authors such as Kurt Vonnegut, Harper Lee, Carl Sandburg, and Eva Ibbotson enriched my life forever. Having lived through their (our) plight of many decades, it was interesting to relive some of the stories behind the activists and Women's Rights advocates, Gloria Steinem and Annie Lennox, who played a major role in bringing women out of the Stone Age. And, the undeniable musical genius associated with Bob Dylan and Joe Bonamassa languidly seeped from my soul to trickle note by note, word by word, into my i-Pad.  I engaged in stories of untimely loss when writing about the unfortunate death of Robin Williams. May you rest in peace, sweet man. I learned from David Rubenstein that, "Philanthropy is a Greek word that means 'love of humanity,' not rich people writing checks." The pleasure of rediscovering  my illustrious Russian heritage by writing about My Ukranian Connection pleased me to no end as the memories of my grandmother's delicious pierogies continued to melt in my mouth. Note: Must engage grandchildren in the process of making pierogies for future reference.

Happiness grips me when I think about the 'Book Reviews' written for up and coming Indie Authors I have met via social media who have worked so hard to self-publish their amazing talent and encourage mainstream readers to appreciate said talent. I honor their perseverance and extreme dedication and hope to follow along their worthy path myself one day.

My greatest joy is derived from the poetry of my past and present creation that I have occasionally slipped into the mix. My first formal publication was a poem I had written in high school English class back in the day. It had established the journey I gladly travel on today. Most recently, I have been interested in selecting words and phrases and personally defining them in a series of small essays that capture their 'true essence' in terms of my own experiences and beliefs; "Through my eyes." Common Sense, Nostalgia, Grateful, Complacency, Self Love, and Alone being among the titles. Photos I have taken throughout the years help to illustrate my personal feelings about each topic.

Yes....Alone, one of the three 'A's' I mentioned before, published on March 19, 2015, highlights my personal insights about what it feels like to be alone, inside your own head. By combining age and absence into the formula, I understand the importance of being alone and how the greatest tool of self-love is self-awareness no matter what my age is. I know that we must learn to be our own best friend and love ourselves with the passion and grace that we would afford to every living soul around us. Once you truly know yourself, love is the only option. With the application of these principles.....we will never be alone.

Photo Courtesy: Phill Cassey

Now, with the click of a few keyboard keys and the wisdom of knowing that we have no control over time, I continue my journey into a world as seen through my eyes! Moving On.....2016 marks its debut through the delicate emergence of the new year like a young bird pushing through its calcified home in order to greet the unfamiliar world it is to live in. Who really knows what this world will bring?

I remain eternally grateful to all of you who read my thoughts placed  into words each week and I promise to continue 'Moving On.....2016' for as long as time will allow me to do so. In the meantime, other projects such as completing my first novel and getting it published and working on the rehab of our 'Little Yellow Cottage' in Michigan will and must fit into my immediate agenda. Also, several new trips are being planned in 2016 and I am looking forward to, eventually, writing all about them for you. Yes, life is busy. Life is good.

Please remember that I always appreciate your comments, positive or otherwise, and know that I constantly learn through them. Hopefully, I will become a better writer and person because of them. So, here's to a new year, 2016, and the many meandering thoughts that lead us down paths we have only dreamt about following before.

You may find me anytime at my Website below:

 www.thetravelingkeyboard.blogspot.com

Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

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