While there are so many things going on in the world, I'd like to "fire off" about them here. But I won't. Opinions. We are all entitled to them. We have a right to them. Suppressing, stifling and bullying someone because of a difference of opinion is nothing but fascist tactics.
Sharing some more music instead. These particular blog posts are easy, less messy and are much better than reading the lunacy on Twitter, or any other social media platform.
As always, thank you.
I'm trying to keep my photos updated on Fine Art America and Pixels. Below are screenshots of the latest ones. To see them and all of the photographs that I have to share, please visit my site at veronica-batterson.pixels.com
As always, thanks for checking in and reading what I share.
A Suggested Campaign Song
Alice Duer Miller - 1874-1942
(“No brass bands. No speeches. Instead a still, silent, effective influence.”—Anti-suffrage speech.)
We are waging—can you doubt it?
A campaign so calm and still
No one knows a thing about it
And we hope they never will.
No one knows
What we oppose,
And we hope they never will.
We are ladylike and quiet,
Here a whisper—there a hint;
Never speeches, bands or riot,
Nothing suitable for print.
No one knows
What we oppose,
For we never speak for print.
Sometimes in profound seclusion,
In some far (but homelike) spot,
We will make a dark allusion:
“We’re opposed to you-know-what.”
No one knows
What we oppose,
For we call it “You-Know-What.”
Alice Paul
Katharine Rolston Fisher - 1871-1949
I watched a river of women,
Rippling purple, white and golden,
Stream toward the National Capitol.
Along its border,
Like a purple flower floating,
Moved a young woman, worn, wraithlike.
All eyes alight, keenly observing the marchers.
Out there on the curb, she looked so little, so lonely,
Few appeared even to see her;
No one saluted her.
Yet commander was she of the column, its leader;
She was the spring whence arose that irresistible river of women
Streaming steadily towards the National Capitol.
I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl (443)
Emily Dickinson - 1830-1886
I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl—
Life's little duties do—precisely—
As the very least
Were infinite—to me—
I put new Blossoms in the Glass—
And throw the old—away—
I push a petal from my gown
That anchored there—I weigh
The time 'twill be till six o'clock
I have so much to do—
And yet—Existence—some way back—
Stopped—struck—my ticking—through—
We cannot put Ourself away
As a completed Man
Or Woman—When the Errand's done
We came to Flesh—upon—
There may be—Miles on Miles of Nought—
Of Action—sicker far—
To simulate—is stinging work—
To cover what we are
From Science—and from Surgery—
Too Telescopic Eyes
To bear on us unshaded—
For their—sake—not for Ours—
Twould start them—
We—could tremble—
But since we got a Bomb—
And held it in our Bosom—
Nay—Hold it—it is calm—
Therefore—we do life's labor—
Though life's Reward—be done—
With scrupulous exactness—
To hold our Senses—on—
Oughta Be a Woman
June Jordan - 1936-2002
Washing the floors to send you to college
Staying at home so you can feel safe
What do you think is the soul of her knowledge
What do you think that makes her feel safe
Biting her lips and lowering her eyes
To make sure there's food on the table
What do you think would be her surprise
If the world was as willing as she's able
Hugging herself in an old kitchen chair
She listens to your hurt and your rage
What do you think she knows of despair
What is the aching of age
The fathers, the children, the brothers
Turn to her and everybody white turns to her
What about her turning around
Alone in the everyday light
There oughta be a woman can break
Down, sit down, break down, sit down
Like everybody else call it quits on Mondays
Blues on Tuesdays, sleep until Sunday
Down, sit down, break down, sit down
A way outa no way is flesh outa flesh
Courage that cries out at night
A way outa no way is flesh outa flesh
Bravery kept outa sight
A way outa no way is too much to ask
Too much of a task for any one woman
After A While (Comes the Dawn)
By Veronica Shoffstall
After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of a woman,
Not the grief of a child
And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn that even sunshine
Burns if you get too much
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers
And you learn that you really can endure…
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth,
and you learn and learn…
With every goodbye you learn.
I first heard this song by Megan O'Neill three years ago on Facebook, and thought it so beautiful. The video is lovely as well.
Take a look and listen.
I know this small post won't gain much attention in the big picture of things since the world's eyes and ears are on Taylor Swift's upcoming tour and her multitude of accomplishments, but I'll share it anyway.
Taylor's song The Best Day was played for me by my daughter in 2009 as I drove her to college her freshman year. It was the first time I'd heard Swift's music. It seemed my daughter's message to me in sharing that particular track was an expression of love. For me, for our family, for her childhood years. It is a song that will always take me back to that day; one that I'll cherish forever because of my daughter's role in how I heard it. It goes without saying that the song is beautiful.
In August of 2018, I almost lost my daughter. It is an indescribable feeling of despair; the yearly anniversary is unwelcome but it's one that I can't make myself forget. Perhaps some day it will be nothing; but for now it continues to be everything because it looms like a storm cloud, waiting to happen. Then it does.
Writing has always been a therapeutic way of healing for me. So in July of 2019 I shared a short story I'd written entitled Precipice. It is how I handled the helplessness of that time. It's fictional, yet it's not. A part that certainly isn't fictional is the way the main character heard Taylor Swift for the first time. If anyone is interested in reading or revisiting this story, it can be found here: Precipice..
Below is the Youtube video of this beautiful song, The Best Day. I'm also sharing a couple more of Taylor Swift's songs that remain favorites of mine. There are many so it's hard to choose. As always, thanks for reading this blog for the last eleven years. It is appreciated.
October. Pretty fall color and a long-awaited trip to Ireland. We stayed in Dublin at the beautiful Shelbourne Hotel (The Shelbourne, Autograph Collection) while enjoying sites in the city, the numerous tourist offerings, great restaurants, and took day trips to Northern Ireland, and to the western coast of the Republic of Ireland.
The Shelbourne is so lovely, and I think it’s one of the best hotels I’ve ever stayed in and fully enjoyed. It’s truly perfect, with its traditional architecture and furnishings, and plush and comfortable rooms; the restaurants are wonderful, attentive staff, plentiful bars, and a spa that offers an expansive relaxation experience. I highly recommend this wonderful hotel.
If you’re looking to travel outside of Dublin, whether on day trips or multiple day excursions, please consider booking them with Little Gem Private Tours (littlegemtours.com). Our tour guide, Richard Ball, was highly experienced and knowledgeable. He went above and beyond in ensuring our travel itinerary was memorable, positive, flexible, full of historical anecdotes, and fun; the tour days we took with him were the highlights of our visit.
In fact, if you aren’t making Dublin your vacation base, Richard and his wife, Barbara, offer lodging accommodations and tours via their family farm about an hour outside of the city. Known as Johnsfort House and built in the late 1700s, the property is located in the village of Clonmellon in the Boyne Valley. For more information on lodging availability and tour offerings, check out their website at Ireland at Your Leisure.
I’m still going through photographs and probably will be doing so for quite some time. Below are just a few. Please check out my website of photographs at veronica-batterson.pixels.com.
I haven't shared a short story in quite some time, and I'm happy I finally finished this one, entitled Precipice ....
