Fly On The Wall

If I could be a fly on the wall, I would land on the wall in my sisters house get all the juicy gossip without having to be a witness to hearing. She has been the town gossip for as long as I can remember, and knows all and everyone’s business.(lol)
Next I would fly on over to the White House and hear all the legal matters and dire straights of just how bad our economy is in, you know all the things that would cause world panic if we knew!!
The things that are probably being kept secret.
Then I would make my way to the section of the FBI secret services, the area that has information about Aliens, appearances, captures, or documented sightings. I WANT TO KNOW!!!
I would be one busy fly, because I would want to know all the things that has been a curious question in my mind for as long as I can remember.
Then to the stock markets and find out the most worthy stocks that would bring a good profit, invest in them and diversify my assets. I am sure all is not being told!!!!!
Does and has man ever been to the moon? I find it very hard to believe since there is suppose to be no oxygen on the moon, and it takes 25 light years to even reach the outer crust of Earth to travel outside it’s atmosphere. So I would next be on my way to NASA, to land on the wall there and get facts as to whether it was all a desert simulation, or truth. I would want facts, and at the end of my wall landing journey I would be one educated “FLY.”

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Home Made Butter

This is for those of you who like me get confused about which butter is which at the grocery store.
I am always standing there trying to figure which is best, of fresher or even the one I last chose.
Then I came across this recipe on pinterest, and it is great. I call it butter just right.
It is so very easy. All you need is whipping cream, a jar with a tight fitting lid, a bowl, and salt or sugar.
Let the whipping cream sit on your counter for about 2 hours at complete room temperature,
Pour until the jar is half full. Close the jar tightly and shake about 7 to 15 min. Once the butter forms pour off the whey pour your clunk of butter in a bowl and rinse under gently flowing cold water until the water runs clear. Use a spoon and gently mash the butter to get all the whey bubbles out and pour it off. Then put a pinch of salt for lightly salted, or two pinches of sugar for sweet cream and mix it in. And you’re done, store it in the fridge,and enjoy.

Leave a comment, let me know how this recipe works for you and if you enjoy it.
Thank you, Creativeliving 1 self Sufficient Single Mother

Flip Flop

I use to be extremely afraid of death, I mean even the mention of the word and I would go ballistic. Then January 2008 my sister that raised me died, well I’m jumping ahead of the story, so I will start at the beginning.
I didn’t know Mary, my next to the eldest sister was sick until my sister Lillian called me and told me that she had cancer, and the Doctor was calling in the family. She said every family member were taking turns caring for her as she refused to spend her last days in the hospital. I immediately started making arrangements to move to North Carolina where she was living to do my part.
I stayed with Mary all through the week so I had first hand experience on death, spiritual strength, and losing my fear of death. I owe it all to Mary, my sister.
I arrived at her house October 4, 2010, and thank God I got to spend 3 months with her before she died. I questioned her so much about death and even told her my fears, which she already knew about. She calmed me with her words and strength. She had no fear whatever. She even apologized about asking the other sisters and family members not to tell me about her illness.
I live in Louisville, Kentucky and she was concerned that the shock of her illness would be to much for me to bare so far away and no family around to comfort me. All I could think while she was talking was, “she is concerned about everyone else yet she is the one dying.”
Anyway on January 8th around 2:45 a.m. I was asleep on the sofa in the room where Hospice had set up for Mary, my other sisters and brother where sleeping in the same room on different pieces of furniture and even the floor. We had been informed by Hospice that she wouldn’t make it another day. She had begun turning color and doing what is called the death moan. A loud high pitched moan that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Then I heard her call my name, real soft. I opened my eyes and realized it was quiet, her moaning had stopped. Then I heard her call my name again, I could see her face clearly by the light of the street light shinning through the window. I got up and walked slowly to her bed and she reached out and took my hand and began to thank me for coming to be with her. The strange thing was as I was staring right at her mouth, I never once saw her lips move. Yet I could clearly hear her every word, with my heart.
I slowly sat down in the chair beside her bed, and holding her hand I cried softly. As Mary finished talking she told me to write it all down, she said “you know how you always write poems, well put it in pretty words for me. Then she started moaning loudly again as if I were no longer there.
I went back to the sofa and silently cried myself to sleep.
That next day there was a different look about her, she no longer recognized anyone, and even her moaning was different.
Then around 1:54 in the afternoon Mary died while holding my hand.
I was sad to lose the sister that loved me above all others, the one that raised me along with her own children yet treated me no different. But there was no fear of death whatsoever.
After her body was removed my sister that I stayed with on the weekend and I returned to her house and around the same time, 2:45 a.m. I felt someone gently shaking me awake. Then I heard Mary’s voice say “Reks write it all down.”
I got up got pen and paper and begun to do as I was told even without fear. In the form of a poem: I call “Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow”. Mary’s Whisper”

Early in the morning,
Mary whispered, “Reks come here.”
I have something to tell you,
But my words won’t be very clear.

I got up from the sofa,
And stood beside her bed.
I listened to every word,
That Mary’s heart whisper said.

She whispered real soft words,
Using just her heart.
She said,”this has come the time,
The day that I depart.”

I thank you baby for coming,
It wouldn’t have been the same.
Living so far away,
You wouldn’t have heard me whisper your name.

I sat down and held her hand,
I was afraid to just let go.
I didn’t want to tell her,
That her words had hurt me so.

I went throughout the morning,
Wondering when would be the time,
With Mary’s heart whispered words,
Weighing heavy on my mind.

I walked around and socialized,
Comforted family and friend.
Then I went back to Mary’s bed,
And felt that hurt again.

I thought of all the stages of death,
I’d read about in that book.
And realized her eyes,
Had taken that permanent look.

It was then I finally excepted,
My sisters going to die.
I rubbed her arm,held her hand,
And softly began to cry.

As Mary’s breathing shallower,
I saw her take her last breath.
Her heart whispered to me even then,
Not thinking of herself.

Cry baby sister, get it all out,
Your pain will ease some tomorrow.
Remember the words my heart whispered to you,
Because “Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow.”

After I finished writing sitting there at the kitchen table at my sisters house, I felt at peace. I lay my head down on the table and slept, no more tears.
Then I felt someone gently shaking me, I slowly awoke and my sister that I was staying with was standing there with my poem book in her hand and crying. She said she say the whole thing from when I walked over to Mary’s bed and even when Mary reached up and took my hand. She said she felt that it was an out of body spiritual experience so she kept quiet.

So the FLIP FLOP in my life is no more fear of death. Only a peaceful elation that there is a joy in another side of life.

Thank you, Creativeliving 1 Single Mother

Daily Prompt: Mirror, Mirror

Daily Prompt: Mirror, Mirror.

when I look in the mirror I see a cliche’ image of the little girl I use to be. I am the seventh child of (5) sisters and (1) brother. They are all much older than me so I had a pretty lonely childhood. I was practically invisible, none of them played with me or tolerated me very much. They all had their own little partnership clic, my eldest and sister under her were best friends, the next two were loners and didn’t like each other. Yet neither liked me. I was pushed aside, neglected, and ignored. So I made my own friends, not imaginary, but grass, my early years I was raised in North Carolina and their is a kind of grass that grows there called blade grass. It is fun to play with (no I didn’t go crazy from my loneliness)lol. I use to call this grass braid grass, because you can actually braid it as you would your own hair. So in my yard you would see about a hundred braided puffs of grass with whatever I could find to tie around it and call it a ribbon. My next best friends were sticks, I would find the weirdest shaped sticks and make people out of them, I even stole scissors and different articles of clothing and dressed them up. Their names were Molly Stick Up, Tommy Tomato Head, Paula Pickle Feet, And Annie Acorn. I spent hours in a day playing with my friends and unless I went inside and said I was hungry, it was as if I didn’t exist because no one cared.
Then the best thing happened, my next to the oldest sister got married and moved to New York. She took me with her, and raised me with her family. I finally became someone and wasn’t invisible anymore. My life had meaning, everything became beautiful for me after that. I even made friends that wasn’t grass or sticks. Then one day my sister sat me down and explained the things leading to my childhood loneliness and it suddenly all made sense. It’s a family secret that I’m not ready to share. Yet after that I felt a joy inside and a happiness that helped me put it all behind and go on to have a fun life. So When I Look In The Mirror I may see the little girl I use to be, but the woman I am shines through.