Prairie

Shop at Toms

When I was a young girl, I was very afraid of thunderstorms - my 

Mother loved them.  I remember after a rainstorm had passed by, she 

would turn on the porch light, go out to the front yard and stand barefoot 

in the wet, cold grass.  She believed that standing on the ground right after 

it'd been jolted by lightening strikes was good for the body - energizing.

After all these years, I still wonder about her ritual.  Could be this is why 

she's lived for so long?  Between you and me, I think she was re-charging, 

like a battery.

Yes, my Mum always had some strange, eccentric belief or weird theory or 

creepy wives tale that she tried to teach or instill in me. If not this, then guilt. 

When she wasn't passing on all this unconventional wisdom, she was scaring

the holy bejeezers out of me - terrorizing me with bizarro stories that sucked  

every last bit of childhood joy from my body. I'm astonished I've made it this 

far in life without regular therapy.  If only you knew what rattles around in 

my head, you would be cowering under your sheets right now. 

It's a deep-rooted phobia now - going barefoot.  

Even when at home, I schlepp around in thick socks or slippers - never barefoot.

Remember - lightening storms - wet grass - Mother ?! 

So when I came across this video, I was dismayed. It's so much more than 

one of my silly phobias or quirks, it's serious stuff.  These people need help and 

it's so simple really.  Please watch this video and then visit:   Toms Shoes

Prairie

"The world stands out on either side

  No wider than the heart is wide

  Above the world is stretched the sky,

  no higher than the soul is high"

  - Edna St. Vincent Millay

I knew when I named this blog Prairie, and put a photo of a cow on my banner,

it would appear to have a country theme to it. Readers who don't know me 

personally, might assume that I'm a cowgirl who rides horses, ropes and square 

dances. Far from it ! And although I grew up in what some might call a whistle 

stop -  a mere speck of buildings on the flat, North Dakota grasslands, that 

whizzed by the car window of motorists as they drove past - nevertheless, I had 

a huge imagination and dreams to match.

Yep - just a small town girl who loved to do what any ten year old loves to 

do, fish, ride my bike, climb trees and beat up all the twelve year old boys in 

the whistle stop. What can I say, I liked older men !

Deep down inside though, I secretly dreamed of being a photojournalist and 

living a bohemian lifestyle in New York.  Funny how life turns out.  We can

plan our hardest, but in the end, life has it's own destiny in mind for us.  

I liken it to driving a car - take just one little detour off the planned route and 

suddenly you find yourself lying on the floor in a pool of sick, in a bar in Wibaux, 

Montana, wearing only one shoe and wondering what the hell happened to 

your brassiere. Hmmm. Think I'll save that story for another day. 

The point I'm trying to make is this; one must never force fate or what I call,

your Prairie, for Prairie leads us where it wants us to be.

So was it fate that I took a wrong turn, lost my bra and favourite shoe ?  

I say yes !  Fate is strange sometimes. And what did I learn from this ?  

To stay the hell out of Wibaux, Montana.

Your own personal Prairie might be a life in the city, with it's glacial concrete 

and metro bustle and hum. Or perhaps you have a green Prairie, the solitude

and simplicity of country living. For others, Prairie is limited and lonely, a 

constant view from a window they gaze out of each and every day.  Everyone 

has their own individual Prairie, the place where you arrive to, where you might 

be this very moment. Prairie is ever changing and always teaching.

My Prairie for right now happens to be England and 

some "naughty cows" right outside my window !

Prairie philosophy says: - where ever you go, you take your Prairie with you.

Now I ask you - could you see me making mine a fashion blog?

Me most mornings ....

prai.rie  - a large open area of grassland

ORIGIN late 18th century, from French, from Old French praerie,

from Latin pradum "meadow"

Legacy

I heard on my wifi radio this morning that Bettie Page, pin-up icon of the 1950's has lapsed into a coma after suffering a health setback. She has to be one of the most unique and identifiable sex kittens of her era with that trademark - shiny, raven black hair. I'm sure she's in her eighties now and for many years has lived an obscure and private life.

I also read an article about Columbian born author, Gabriel García Márquez - who was awarded a Nobel Prize for Literature in 1982. He has terminal cancer. I'm currently reading his novel "Love in the Time of Cholera." It's a wonderful book. I'm really sad to hear about his illness.

Sounds silly and weird - but when I heard the news about these two persons, it set me off navel-staring, thinking about my own legacy and what I might leave behind.

But then I remembered this lovely piece of literature penned by Emerson: "...to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded."

Two daughters, many gardens, I've played, laughed and sung with verve, I recycle my bottles and paper products, do volunteer work from time to time and hopefully, I've been a good friend and confidant to many persons.

Emerson reminds me, that I've done just fine - so far.