Sarah holds the door as her mother shuffles into the club.
Brunch every Sunday after Temple at the Boca Grande Golf and Country club. Father loved golf, a member for years.
A big smile from Cecelia, the hostess, greets us as she escorts us to mothers favorite table. A Mimosa, Mrs. Cohen? Teary-eyed, she remembers past days with Moisha when its placed in front of her.
Your father went far despite Auschwitz, Mother said with a blank gaze. You’re a good girl, Sarah, a good daughter.
***** This week our challenge is to edit our previous story with this prompt or create a new on. Due to time restrictions, I’ve added my edited story from April, 2015.
The first time I heard Carlos Santana on the radio he was playing ….. Maria Maria
Influenced by his Latin roots, Carlos Santana is an award winning Hall of Fame guitarist and rock bandleader. He’s been active in the blues and pop song culture for over 40 years.
Santana was born in Autlan de Novarra, Mexico on my birthday July 20, 1947.
His sound is powerfully unique. It transports the listener to intoxicatedcating heights.
Carlos Santana first recorded with his band Santana in 1969, combining electrified blues guitar and Afro-Cuban rhythms into a groovy, danceable blend.
Samba Pa Ti is a perfect example of his blues sound.
In 2014, he collaborated with Jaunes on a song called ‘La Flaca’.
En la vida conoci mujer igual a la flaca
Coral negro de La Habana
tremendisima mulata
Cien libras de piel y hueso
40 kilos de salsa
y en la cara los soles
que sin palabras hablan.
que sin palabras hablan.
La flaca duerme de dia
dice que asi el hambre engana
cuando cae la noche
baja a bailar a la tasca
Y bailar y bailar
y tomar y tomar
una cerveza tras otra
pero ella nunca engorda,
pero ella nunca engorda.
Por un beso de la flaca
daria lo que fuera
por un beso de ella
aunque solo uno fuera.
Me: “Yes, I’d like to make an appointment for a pedicure and manicure with John. A friend had recommended him to me.”
Woman: “Yew, come now.”
Me: “It will take me 20 minutes to get to your shop.”
Woman: “Yew, come nowww. He waiting.”
Me: “OK … see you in a little while.”
~~~~~~~
I drive my short little 20 minutes to the salon.
~~~~~~~
Woman: When I enter the salon, the woman at the front counter says, “Pic a cala.”
Me: I say, “I have my own color.” (thinking – there could be germs on their nail polish.)
Woman: John???? (shouting and unintelligible exchange)
Woman: Pointing, “You go there.”
I make my way to the pedicure chair. This man motions me to sit.
I grab my phone from my purse and, compliantly, I sit.
I place my feet into a warm soothing bath of salts. Now, I’m ready to be pampered.
The young man prepares his pedicure instruments and puts on his gloves.
Shutting the water off he looks up at me.
Him: “Wata ok?”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Him: Pointing, “Wata ok?”
Me: “Yes, its fine.”
The pedicure takes about 40 minutes.
Silence.
There’s never a word exchanged. Hand gestures are the mode of conversation.
Eventually, he looks up and points to the manicure table.
Like a good soldier, I march to my chair and sit.
He begins removing my old nail polish. Tense from all of this silence, I make a silly remark about my worse-for-wear nails due to gardening. He looks up and nods.
Creepy.
Does he hate gardening? Does he feel I’ve entered his silent zone without permission?
Unable to continue in this silent tortuous world I ask, “Do you work everyday?”
Him: “Yeezz”
Me: “When do you go to school?”
Him: Pointing to his salon license he says, “I finith school. Am tech now.”
Me: “I see that your name Van Nac Tan. It doesn’t say John on there.”
Him: “Me John.”
Me: I want to say, ‘No, your license says Van Nac Tan. Is John the translation?’
Him: As if I needed more clarification he says, “I am tirty yeer ol’.”
Me: “Ahhh … but you look so young.”
Him: He sends me a grimace with his eyes and, I’m sure, from under his mask too.
Me: (thinking) I guess he prefers silence.
I decide he’s a man of few words and a man who does not enjoy a compliment.
Before adding my new nail color he hands me the bill.
Him: “Yew pay now. Tip cash only”
Me: (thinking) Do I have cash? I’m a charge card carrying person. You know the one who gets lots and lots of points if you use your charge card for everything. I give him my card and off he goes to run it through. I look in my purse and find my emergency cash stash. Lucky me or him.
He hands me the charge receipt for signing. He takes it and places it in a draw. I give him his tip. He grabs it and again throws it in the draw. Nods a quick, Thack u, I think?
My nails are polished to a glossy shine. I’m directed to the drying area next and, then, he leaves for the back room without a word.
The moon filtered through the starless clouded sky.
She could see tiny white lights shining on the patio. By midnight, they’d be drunk.
It was the perfect night to go.
Silk stockings stretched over her shapely legs and thighs. A black leather skirt accented her curvaceous hips. The spiky heels, she’d picked up at a yard sale, completed her outfit. She felt as fiery as a hot chili pepper.
Sister Mary Annunciata handed out the list of things we had to bring to school by the end of the week. It was September 15, 1953. It was the first week of 1st grade. Although I had attended kindergarten at the same school, I was scared. The thought of filling a list of things to bring to school was intimidating. I wanted to make sure I got it right.
After school my mother sent me out with my older sister to get the supplies on the list:
a) a notebook
b) 2 – #2 pencils
c) a pencil sharpener
d) a pencil box
e) an eraser
f) a ruler
I was excited as I picked out each item. The pencil box was made of smooth pale wood with a flat surface that slid the box open when you pushed on the notch. Everything fit inside of it perfectly. The next day I was ready with all of my items. The students who brought all of the items to class received a gold star next to their name. I was proud. I smiled all the way back to my seat. You see, we got to put the gold star next to our own names.
During the first week we received our catechism book, prayer book, rosary beads and a laminated bookmark with an image of a saint on the front and a prayer on the back. We were supposed to mark where we were in our catechism book with it. We were to recite the pray to the saint on the back of the bookmark whenever we found ourselves in a moment of weakness or loss of faith. I often did as I always found myself in a state of fear of not meeting up to getting that gold star again.
Sister Mary Annunciata was angelic in her features. She was petite and had a pretty smile. A stiff white material surrounded her face showcasing her pink skin and white teeth. The black habit covered her all the way down to her ankles. Tiny black leather tips from her shoes stuck out. Long rosary beads hung from her waist and jingled as she walked. All of this meant nothing, since her harsh tone could let you know, instantly, if you were not in her favor.
The second week of school we were going to learn how to write the letters of the alphabet. Eventually, we would be learning to how write our names. I was thrilled. I wanted to learn how to write so much.
First there were rules we needed to know:
1) No pointing our pencil at anyone
2) We could not sharpen our pencils unless we raised our hand and asked
3) No erasing what we had written
4) No writing on our desks
Finally, after waiting and waiting, we were going to write. I took out my #2 yellow pencil and held it in my hand. It fit perfectly. Now, I was going to be a writer. My journey was about to begin.
No other instrument has had as much influence on my life as that pencil did. There was something powerful in that first encounter. When I read the short inspirational parable below I felt all of the same feelings I felt when I first held that # 2 yellow pencil.
I hope you can remember your feelings when you first became enamored with the art of writing.
The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box.
“There are 5 things you need to know,” he told the pencil, “Before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be.”
1) “You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in someone’s hand.”
2) “You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you’ll need it to become a better pencil.”
3) “You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.”
4) “The most important part of you will always be what’s inside.”
5) “On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write.”
The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart.
Now replacing the place of the pencil with yourself. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best person you can be.
1) You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in God’s hand. And allow other human beings to access you for the many gifts you possess.
2) You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, by going through various problems in life, but you’ll need it to become a stronger person.
3) You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.
4) The most important part of you will always be what’s on the inside.
5) On every surface you walk through, you must leave your mark. No matter what the situation, you must continue to do your duties.
Allow this parable of the pencil to encourage you to know that you are a special person and only you can fulfill the purpose to which you were born to accomplish.
Never allow yourself to get discouraged and think that your life is insignificant and cannot make a change.
Namaste
I honor the place in you
in which the entire universe dwells.
I honor the place in you
which is of Love, and of Truth,
of Light and of Peace.
When you are in that place in you
and I am in that place in me.
We are One.
I’ve been having some computer issues but it looks like I’ve had a bit of writers block too. Rereading this post brought back my first writing memories. Although I’ve posted this one before, I thought it might help someone else who may be having a difficult time getting back in the saddle of writing.
****For those who haven’t seen it …. ENJOY !!! ****For those who have seen it …. ENJOY !!! ****Google Images
She could see Marcus in his white Escalade. He made sure all his girls were where they were supposed to be. Stay warm, baby, Candy’s bringing you what you want. Money …
~~~~~
How did she get in this mess? She’s from Connecticut. We’re good girls.
Me? I’m the rebel. I never follow rules.
Candace could see no way out. She wasn’t Candace anymore.
~~~~~
“Hey Darlin’, lookin’ for some fun?”
“Sure, baby”.
“Let’s go for a ride.”
~~~~~
The bright marquee lit the seedy motel. The room stank of smoke and sweat.
~~~~~
Thug!
If he hadn’t pulled the knife, Marcus wouldn’t have shot.
It was one of those unspeakable moments; the one you never want to happen. When eyes meet and sparks ignite.
Veronica was married; so was he. Yet, each time they were in a room together, flames stirred. She did her best to stay clear of wherever he was. But, it was impossible.
Their kids were in 2nd grade class together; the same activities. The possibility they’d often see each other was overwhelming.
He was approaching. Dark chocolate eyes glared at her.
“ Nereida, meet me at our usual spot on the beach.”
~~~~~~
Memories rapidly flooded her mind. She remembered the first time they’d met. He was walking with his metal detector along the shore. She was photographing the hazy afternoon sky. He had glanced her way.
“Do you always photograph people passing by?”, he said.
“No, only the good looking ones,” she replied.
Thus, the beginning of what would turn out to be a whirlwind romance.
He’d found an antique timepiece that day. It would be her wedding gift.
![carlossantana[1]](https://insidethemindofisadora.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/carlossantana1.jpg)
![images[5]](https://insidethemindofisadora.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/images5.jpg)
![cath%20BN156_BN156M[1]](https://insidethemindofisadora.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/cath20bn156_bn156m1.jpg)
![images[9]](https://insidethemindofisadora.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/images9.jpg)
![spa-660x440[1]](https://insidethemindofisadora.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/spa-660x4401.jpg)
Inside the Mind of Isadora 