Beltane Blessings

this can be found on Artfire.com

May you be blessed by the spirit of the God and Goddess in their dance.

When the gypsy sang........

Cybella was only 7 when her mother Loueza started teaching her the centering. Centering is the ability to lock out all other stimuli from your senses and tune into the "callings" from humans in need. It took 3 years before Cybella could tell when someone in need was sending out the call. Tiny movements at first and then as the demand became greater and her centering more engaged, the vibrations became like the feeling one gets from being close to a large drum being hammered upon.

The very first time the vibrations became that intense, the young girl covered her ears in fear that the noise was thunder. She had always been afraid of thunderstorms and hid behind the large trunk at the back of the wagon. But as she became older and more accustomed to the "callings" she also was able to put the need into perspective in her own living. She was, as her mother shared with her, gifted. This was a comfort to Loueza, knowing that the art would not die with her but continue on with her lovely daughter. Many of their kind had the gift of healing, many had the gift of future sight, but few had the gift of being called upon.

Cybella had yet another gift, even her mother did not possess. Loueza had only known of one other with this talent. She had "callings"from animals as well as humans. The woman that the mother knew of  had lived alone in the forest and only administered to the animals. Many people had brought their animals to the woman to have her heal them or come to their farms to help with birthing  or healing cows, dogs, sheep, goats and horses. She was a wonder. And now Loueza's own daughter knew when an animal, wild or domesticated needed her attention or help.

It was on their travels to the north country that Cybella was called by her first animal need. She sensed that the animal was near the first path after the bridge. She and her mother cautiously proceeded down this out of the way path, rutted with cart tracks. The recent rain made the passage tricky at best. Their wagon slid from one set of ruts to the next in the standing water. The further they proceeded into the woods, the darker it became. The trees thickened and the shade loving plants were plentiful. The lack of sun took the dappled light and made it almost eerie.

They heard a whimpering off to the left of the path. Not even a whimper really but a staccato breath. They felt it would be best to take care off the path and Loueza took her walking stick. Cybilla found a large fallen branch and used it to move the vines out of their way.

It wasn't long before they found him lying on his side, flailing, with vines wound all around him and around his legs. He was so skinny. He was hardly breathing except for that staccato exhaling. His fur was matted, he was sopping wet and he looked at them with the most intense, "please help me" look either had every seen.

Loueza went back to the wagon to retreive both her long knife and also some material to bind the wounds on the legs that were evident. While there, she also grabbed her bag with herbs and salves and made her way back to the poor animal. As she approached the scene, she heard her daughter singing a slow, sweet song in a language that she herself had never heard before. The sounds were so soothing and calming that the animal had quit struggling and was breathing easy.

While her Cybilla continued to sing, the two went to work extricating the donkey from his trap. Cutting away the vines and undergrowth. He lay quietly and allowed them to remove the vegetation, treat his wounds and bind them with cloth. When they felt that he could handle it, the two brought him water. Cybilla said that they should clean up the area, make a fire, bring their own blankets to cover the donkey and sleep close to him to warm him and give him strength. And so they did.

As dawn broke, the birds in the forest greeted them with a concert of welcome. The two found their patient more aware and improved. Cybilla made them  a gruel for breakfast and shared it with the donkey. He likewise rewarded them by standing. And within a short time he was strong enough to walk. Cybilla fashioned a lead from her petticoat fabric and lead the donkey to the stream where she again cleaned his wounds and started the process of restoring this soul to his strength. She sang as she bathed his wounds. He wasn't very fond of the water but was soothed and entranced by the song. He also was weary of the muddy coat he had come to wear but that could be taken care of with a good rub in a dry spot.

With his wounds again dressed with salves and bright bandages, the three set off to find his owner. It wasn't long before they found what was left of the owner. His body and an empty pouch lay up the path towards the crest of the hill. He looked as though someone had jumped him as he made his way towards the bridge from which Cybilla and Loueza had come. That explains how the donkey had become entangled in the vines as he too ran from the attackers of his master. The thieves must not have been interested in the donkey, but rather only whatever had been in the pouch. The donkey went over to his master and pushed at him with his nose. Knowing that his old friend was dead, the donkey raised his head and brayed goodbye to this man.

The three made their way back down the hill to Loueza's cart and back to the road. Which way would they be called next? Where would their next encounter bring them? They turned east and took it slowly for the sake of the donkey.

They asked him his name but of course he had no answer that they could understand, but Jinx would one day have his name be known by his new family of beautiful females who had rescued him and made him their own. He felt his strength returning as he followed along behind the wagon. One day soon, he would pull the wagon for his rescuers and live a life he had never imagined.

And the winner of the Goddess necklace and earrings is.......

Danni of The Whimsical Cottage.  Congratulations to you Danni. I know you will love the necklace and earrings. Thanks for commenting on the Justice La Gitane stories.

And thank you to all who commented and were entered to win the giveaway. I am sorry that I didn't get the winner posted on Friday as I had intended. Too much working on the back porch update ....dun me in.

My family was invited to go the farm to see the donkeys yesterday and I couldn't even manage to get to the fun of that visit. Today I raised up my head and said, enough with the pain already and sorta did my Earth Day thing of planting strawberries and herbs.

Once again, thanks all.

Weren't you the bestest commentors ever....

Thanks so much for you encouraging words....cuz now the skies are not cloudy all day here at Casa de Cuckoo.

I honestly do not remember where this came from. If someone knows please tell me and I will give credit where credit is due

I have written some pre prequels about the "ladies" and also about Genevieve. I'm really enjoying the gypsy as a character. Her Mom also has some adventures to divulge, me thinks. And of course, how could we miss out on the hot Duke and side order of oooo la la. And believe it or else.....GK has a story about where the matched pair of donkeys come from.

So for those who didn't want the Justice La Gitane to end, it won't.

We're just gonna let Genevieve and the Duke have some alone time for right now.

Besides I've got a bunch of work to get done for my shop and also for a show in June.

And the back porch is calling my name. There are the beginnings of a mushroom table (could it be red and white???????), painting to be done on the old swing, tomato cans to be filled with flowers and vintage finds to be hung on the walls. I am taking before pictures today, even if they are very revealing and icky. We're also modpodging the tomato cans to keep the labels as long as we can. Then when I am finished, if it comes anywhere close to my vision or even if not, you will see that I really am as crazy as you have been led to believe....tee hee. Gnomes, fairies and other fantasy creatures anyone??????

I'll announce the winner of the giveaway on Friday as promised.

Smooches and squoozes, Oma Linda

Epilogue to La Justice Gitane and giveaway

Here is a couple of pictures of the Goddess necklace and earring set I made for this giveaway. The pendant is bronze, the chain copper and the pretties are coppery blister pearls. Simply comment on any of the 4 parts, (or all for more chances) and next Friday April 20 I will randomly select the winner. Thank you so much for taking the time to read the tale of Genevieve.

How it began….. or Epilogue of La Justice Gitane


Beau Garcon Sachet Papier had died a rather horrible death, Genevieve had thought as she rode past the hamlet that had for all of Beau’s life been the fount of his evil strength. She had not been near there since she was a mere girl of fourteen.

This was the first time she had allowed herself to come this close to where Beau’s parents had killed her mother or to have this memory in almost 40 years.

Her mother had been called by fate to this place to aid someone else in distress. That is how it worked, their calling. It wasn’t always a person riding up to let them know of an illness or injury, it was in most cases the feelings being transmitted by the universe to them as empaths.

Genevieve’s mother had felt the calling two days prior to their arrival at La Mere du Mal’s homestead. The person in need was an old woman who had fallen down a well and was in terrible condition. The woman had been left by the side of the well and would beg all who came for water for help but La Mere du Mal had left instructions that anyone helping this stupid woman, who had fouled her well, would suffer death themselves. So the woman languished near death, until Genevieve and her mother arrived. They put the woman in their cart and transported her to a nearby cave where they attended to her.

The next day just as the old woman was breathing her last breaths, La Mere du Mal’s husband and henchman Boucher des enfants came to the cave to dole out his wife’s punishment on those that dare to defy her edict. Boucher’s reputation for relishing the meting out of physical punishment preceded him. There was no need for introductions to this creature of pain.

Not wanting to leave the dying woman to this man who obviously had anguish to hand out, they stayed quietly hidden and in control of their own fear at the rear of the cave, hoping that he would not detect them, they held their breath.

Boucher pretended not to see them, looked at the near death woman, stabbed her several times and left. But instead of leaving, he concealed his presence outside the cave and waited.

When Genevieve thought it safe to venture out, she went to retrieve the cart from the woods. He jumped her, had her on the ground and was pushing her skirts up around her throat when her mother came from behind him with a branch in her hand, ready to hit him in the head. He jumped aside, grabbed the branch from her hand, lashed out at the mother and hit her in the head knocking her unconscious. Genevieve had only remembered running further into the forest to hide.

When time had passed, she searched for her mother. She didn’t have to search long before she found her mother. She was lashed facing a tree, her clothes ripped and bloody on the ground. She tenderly untied her mother and saw what this terrible being had done to defile her mother. It was almost impossible to comprehend that all of this butchery at the hands of this evil woman and man had occurred because they had dared to aid another being.

Genevieve got her mother into the cart and pulled it to the next village herself as the donkey begrudgingly followed alongside her making a gravely sound in his throat. It was as though he was crying and protesting all in one sound.

Hysterically, she asked any and all she met for the whereabouts of a healer and was directed to the road ahead that lay to the east.

Sadness, sickness and a growing hatred became what she drank, ate and slept while she waited to have her mother healed, whole and ready to travel again. She kept going over what had happened in her mind. Yes, she and her mother had made the choice to help someone but had not expected such a brutal attack. Yes, they did know the reputation of the landholders but did not expect this heinous behavior. She was young and did not have knowledge of the cruelty of the world.

When her mother ultimately died from her injuries, Genevieve became the gypsy woman, took what she valued most which was her mother’s broach and the donkey and left this district. But she did vow that someday her revenge for the loss of her mother’s sparkling essence and love of life would be exacted on the evil that had reigned that day.

And it had been. This evil had destroyed itself with the help of the power of La Justice Gitane.

Genevieve turned the caravan towards the Duke’s estate where she knew she would spend the rest of her days loving and being loved, which after all is always the sweetest revenge.

I wish to thank Magaly for this challenge to write of a witch who is not sterotypical in the eyes of the world, but in my experience is extraordinarily typical of the loving community of women and men I have met who follow the pagan path. Loving to a fault and caring with everything that they posess and dedicated to striving for excellence in their craft.
I also would like to thank you who have read this tale and taken the time to let me know what you felt as you read the story. I love to weave a story and many of you have given me more insight into my own writing than I otherwise would have. You have blessed me as always.
And I need to thank my family for listening to this story many, many times as I worked out the nuances of the storyline. They are my why.

Don't forget to comment to get a chance on the goddess necklace my lovelies.

La Justice Gitane the 3rd in the 4 part series for Magaly's Blogoversary Party

It is widely known that a knight should be strong of character, honest of soul, bold of action, gentle of hand and kind in his heart. These are the character traits of a true knight, but alas the focus of this telling, Beau Garcon Sachet Papier was a pretender to the knighthood.

Beau Garcon Sachet Papier was a very vain, self absorbed snob of a man who had been raised by a woman called La Mere du Mal who thought herself as good if not better than the queen and a father named Boucher des enfants who was a randy, cruel, sot. At the hands of these two, Beau had learned that more than anything else in his parent’s world social standing and sexual conquest were the only things that really mattered. No wonder he passed himself off as a knight of the realm, when really he was only a boy who had been whipped by Mama and brutalized by his father. And to add to his miseries, he could not venture far from his parents because their evil was what gave him his strength. Only once had he stayed away too long and suffered a terrible loss of part of his mind.

Travelling the countryside, Beau availed himself of all the pleasures of depravity. On his self proclaimed “quests” he conquered as many maidens as possible and if caught fecking the wrong sort, always made her out to be the liar and a trickster. And if truth be told, lying had become his stock and trade. After he had all he wanted from a maiden he threw away each of his conquests. It was only then that his victims could see his bloodlust trail of slime as he crept his way out of their lives and their bedchambers. This trail was truly his essence. If he did not recharge his essence at the font of evil, he would eventually no longer exist.

Men believed his lies, or so he supposed. Woman lusted after him and he did have a certain charm to attract the ones who wanted to fix what was wrong with him. Unfortunately for both Beau and the women he attracted, all too soon they felt the crush of the truth of his real character and he would have to move on or be thrown out and return to his mother’s land. Such was the case with the beauty, the frail princess and the healer.

These three women eventually had their eyes opened to his ways and threw him out of their lives, only to be tormented by his evil nature. For if Beau perceived that he had been wronged even in his own mind, he would hold onto certain treasures of his victims and cause them much pain, embarrassment and grief. It was always at these times that he retreated to his mother’s homeland for safety and the much needed renewal of his essence.

Each of these three wronged women followed the bloodlust slime trail, in order to enact their revenge on his ugly nature and reclaim their treasure. One came from the north, one hailed from the south and one journeyed from the west. Each travelled in order to make Beau pay for his betrayal, his cruelty and his misdeeds.

As it would happen, unbeknownst to each other, they ended up at a gypsy camp not far from the Castle du Juste. The gypsy offered them warmth, dinner and a place to rest from their long journeys. At this point, none of the three recognized the gypsy woman from their past encounters or realized that the spirit of the old donkey had led them here but felt the safety and comfort of her hospitality with ease.

As they shared their evening meal, the subject of why they were traveling came up in conversation. The first, the dark beauty told of an unfaithful lover who had wed her, bedded her, betrayed her and had taken her treasure. He had let everyone in her village and beyond, knows falsely that it was she that had made him stray. The others all voiced their distain at the dark beauty’s lover’s actions.

The second, the frail princess shared a similar story about the man she was searching out to exact her revenge upon. The only difference in the story was that he had not only betrayed her but also broken her children’s hearts. Since the children were not his own but from the princess’ former lover, this evil knight felt he could wrong the children and not be held responsible. Once again, all around the campfire were enflamed by the story of the princess’ lover’s actions.

The third, the healer, told her story from her lover’s perspective. He had been wronged by his parents, his former lovers, spouses, and the kings for whom he had fought. None of this, of course, was ever his fault and when she found him, she wanted so much to heal him that she stayed with him, hoping for the best. She eventually found that his tales were all lies. By that time however, she too was trapped by this man. Still thinking she was strong enough and could heal him, she stayed with him, and even had his children.

It was when he deserted the children leaving them to go hungry, be cold and have nowhere to live, that the healer knew it was time to run away. To further inflict his evil, the knight found a whore in the village and brought her into the midst of their lives and taunted the healer with his sorted affair. The healer had had enough, she left him. This, of course, hurt his feelings and he tried with the help of his trollop to cause even more pain to the healer.

But now that her children were safe and sound, and in order to get her treasure back from him, she followed his evil bloodlust slime trail.

As those at the campfire began to murmur, the gypsy could not contain herself any longer. She said to the three, “don’t you see you are all following the same man? It is Beau Garcon Sachet Papier. The three knew she was correct and that they shared a common goal. If you were to join forces, I could show you how to exact revenge so sweet, so terrible, and so bloody that Beau would never even know what had happened to him and the beauty of the plan is that we shall use his whore to exact the revenge”. It will be his own lust and evil nature that will turn on itself and cause his demise.

The three agreed with joy and excitement in their hearts.

The gypsy spoke of an ancient morality tableau that told of such a man of little character harming 3 unawares and defiling innocents. It was the cure for this curse that was the beginnings of their revenge and their real freedom from his evil.

They each entered into the oath and received the spell to make Beau’s whore so irresistible that he could not turn from her, so desirable that he could not leave her, so compelling that he could not desert or betray her. The women and the gypsy each chanted the charm, spit in their hands, and joined in a circle which was unbroken for three days. The circle was also joined by the spirit of Genevieve’s mother and the crying spirit of the dear dark donkey. Like a madness had set upon them, they did what they knew had to be done.

At the breaking of the circle, the company set off to see the results of their joining together, following the bloodlust slime trail to its end.

In a small village just outside of his mother’s homeland, they found what they sought. Both coiled together in a heap, the starved and dying whore chained to what used to be Beau. They were both covered in the bloodlust slime of his withered evil soul and both were drenched in the rotting bloody color and stench of his sins.

The three woman of course did not find any of the physical treasures because they were all gone, squandered away but that mattered not to the women who had danced for three days in a circle and received the joy of the self destruction of Beau. For you see, they had found the real treasure which is peace of mind.

At the lilting sound of braying, Genevieve looked back towards the spirits of her mother and the donkey. She walked to them, unfastened the broach circlet of pearls from her blouse, passed it to her mother’s open hand. They embraced; she kissed her goodbye for now and patted the donkeys head. They were waving and smiling as they passed over, now comforted and released from this realm by victory and peace.

The gypsy quietly left the 3 knowing that they no longer needed her wisdom but had gained their own.

Genevieve had other things to attend to.

I will be posting again on Sunday with the last in the series and will have my prize to be won listed at that time. Please go back to read parts 1 and 2 and I'll see you on Sunday for part 4 for Pagan Cultures, Sexy, Dark, and Bloody blog party. Thank you so much for visiting.

And still she waits.......part two

Upon arising, the gypsy noticed a distinct change in the atmospheric light. It was late spring but the air felt and looked like early autumn and was the golden hue of that time of year. This meant only one thing to the silver haired woman, "they" would soon join her at the crossroads. Even her animals stirred with anticipation, as the gypsy prepared for the day.

Taking the wooden bucket and gathering basket down from the peg on the back of the caravan, she headed down the hill on a short jaunt to the spring. The water at the well head bubbled up from the earth and into a pool which was edged by the greens she was enjoying for her meals. The tender greens and roots were the reward of this forest salad bowl and was a delight this close to the major crossroads. Thus the reason she chose this campsite to wait for the beckoning of the universe.

Bending down to draw the water, she caught her reflection. She almost didn't recognize the older visage that met her gaze. In her mind, she was still the raven haired woman in her 40's that had conquered so many situations, had so very many encounters and helped so many to find themselves. All these years had been very kind to her but as with all things, she was aging. In her mind she would always be young and the bounce in her step and the sparkle in her deep brown eyes showed that to all who could or would be brave enough to chance a gaze into them. This tall, lean, strong woman had an aire of confidence and strength that gave a non verbal message to most that she was someone to be respected. Thus her life as a solitary traveller was fairly uneventful with respect to being harrassed by others. Not many were brave enough to stand up to these giant protectors as they are taller than a man and vigilant to a fault.

She filled the bucket, then sat down on the mossy carpet to gather the herbs and greens and her mind turned to the golden light and how it was the foretelling of the coming of the 3 woman who would forever be changed from the gypsy encounter and their shared story. She knew who they would be. She had known for many years now. The only part to the knowing was the when. She was already here at the where.

The three were woman who had crossed her path before. Two were but children at their initial meeting and the last was a young pregnant woman who already had one child.

The first young girl was actually the infant daughter of the healer who had cared for her mother. The second child was a youngster who while playing had run out into the road and the gypsy had rescued her from the Boucher des Enfants carriage. None of these meetings were by chance. At each encounter, the gypsy woman "knew" she would meet these children again. The pregnant woman had just gone into labor. The gypsy was visiting her friend who was midwife in the village. The gypsy woman accompanied her friend to the castle and helped in the delivery of the baby by entertaining and holding the woman's older child and soothing the youngster as his brother was born.

Before her rememberings of their prior meetings was complete, the dampness from the grasses and greens began to remind the gypsy to move back to camp to prepare for the day and for the emanate meeting to come. She picked up her water bucket and the basket now brimming with not only her favorites but also those of her donkeys. As she approached the camp, she was welcomed by the braying of her best friends, her matched pair of Baudet Poitou donkeys who had been a gift from the love of her life. The gentle giants who not only helped her travel the countryside by handily pulling her caravan but also provided the very best protection from whatever might threaten this very gifted and charmed woman.

She had met this lover, who was a member of the royal court when he had called for her to come and cure his butler of his injuries from a fall. He had learned of her after having seen the gypsy cure the crown prince's maidservant of a spider bite the summer before at the tournaments. She had been visiting with the prince's cook at the time teaching her some of the newest culinary arts she had seen and learned from a childhood friend in Paris last season. She was in demand for healing, readings, cooking lessons and much more. All of which took her into circles of society not usually open to those of her station, but then she never believed she was anything but an equal to any and all. Genevieve was the name her mother had called her. Genevieve was not a haughty woman but a woman of confidence of her own being.

The Duke had been so taken by her beauty and talents that he invited her to an afternoon tea in the garden. A tent was set up and all manner of food and drink were provided to thank the gypsy for what she had done for him. But it was what they did for each other in that hot afternoon of passion and learning that made him her devoted admirer forever more. He begged her to stay when her time was up in the region but she knew that it was best to keep their relationship longingly brief. And whenever she was near the Duke's estates or he sent word where they might meet, she did. It was a perfect love for both. He never married, she never settled and they devoured each others love when they were together.

She smiled as she realized how blessed she was to live this gift called life and set about the chores of the day.

And she waited.....

This is the prequel to the story I will be spinning for Magaly's third blogoversary event on Friday April 13th.

Gypsy might not be the correct name for this traveling woman because she was not Romany. But there are many different kinds of gypsies. Some by blood, some by calling and some by necessity. She had been doing this moving from place to place to where she was needed or called for almost 55 years. So long in fact that she had only a sliver of a memory of ever having lived in a house.

It was when she was just a girl and her mother, also a traveller, had become too ill to move on and they had moved into the healer's hut for the winter. The hut was partially underground and was warm and dry. It was covered by same foliage as it's surroundings and blended into the landscape which was very advantageous. Staying out of the way of the travelling people was not only wise but prudent in these days after the wars.

Unfortunately, her mother had not survived the ligury and when spring came and she was able to, the young girl had left the security of the healer's hut . She had paid the kind woman by leaving all her mothers possessions and the cart they had brought them in, keeping only the old donkey that pulled the cart and the pin her mother wore on her blouse. This small brass, seed pearl circlet with one small yellow stone was the gypsy's only treasure. And the old dark donkey was her only friend. She vowed she would never give up either. To her, the circlet held all that her mother had taught her about reading peoples eyes, feelings people's needs and trusting her own instincts. The donkey had been the only being she trusted completely and his departure from her life was the first and last time she had allowed herself to cry. He passed away during the night of a dark moon several years after her mother's passing but every once in awhile she saw his spirit in the woods watching over her and was comforted by his presence.

Her thoughts about the long ago were interrupted by the popping of the oily wood as it burned bright for the 4th night at this cross roads. The gypsy knew they would be coming this way, but she just didn't know when. She would stay for as long as it took to meet up with the 3 who were the next chapter in her life. She rose, walked to where her two donkeys were tethered, fed them and turned looking up into the full moon night. Returning to the campfire, she added another log, stoked the fire, returned to her cushion and let her remembering be her companion as the night held tight to it's secrets. The sound of the hay being eaten and the logs hissing their stories were the last sounds she heard until morning.

for your information......

Shelley's court hearing was, as is the case with the judicial system, just another step in a process. It was not an end but did move her closer to the disolution of her marriage.

Thanks so much for all of your well wishing, support and comments. It is very special to have lovelies who hold us safe during this time. I so appreciate your caring of me and mine.

At this moment.......

all my energy and thoughts are with my daughter as she makes her way to a court hearing to make her life her own again.

To all who join me now in thought and deed to make her truly free, blessings. Oma Linda

Awwwwww Sweet Sunday volume 6

Good Morning my lovelies:

I've missed blogging this week. Been outside gardening, inside Etsying and confounding the grands (my job, don't ya know) and plotting my overthrow of the world as we know it.

Actually pretty normal week, as week's go.

This week's sweetness came from the quiet of working outside. Just me, the robin's and mountain jays and the earthworms. A lovely warm breeze, flowers blooming, bees finding pollen and me pondering how it is that plants have a mind of their own during the mild winters. I have hollyhocks 2 ft tall, some with buds. Violets passed prime blooming (missed it) and mint everywhere that something else isn't. We have a new plan for the climbing roses. Because let's face it, it isn't fun to be attacked by 9 ft rose canes catching in your hair as you walk down the garden path. I'll take photos of our new plan this week after we have enacted it.

The grands and I planted newspaper pots with new herbs. Sprinkled daisy, blue morning glory, bachelor buttons (my favs), chinese lanterns, snap dragon and 4 o clock seeds in the fairy garden. Also planted okra and tomatillos to eat. This is always the fun part.....next comes the weeding, not so fun part. But watching the two grands get dirty and tired from a day of fun and play in the garden is priceless.

Still haven't found any turtles out but we have found evidence that they have been. I'm so very anxious to get my first sighting of my shelled babies.

Today marks the beginning of Autism Awareness Month. Of course I have an opinion about such but I know a very special person who said it better than I could ever. Please go and read this beautiful, heartfelt post from my friend Bird. http://takealeftatthemoon.blogspot.com/2012/04/autism-acceptance-month.html  You will be glad you did, I promise.

I hope each of you has a very sweet Sunday. By this time next week I'll have stored up more appreciation and share it with you. Bye with smooches and squoozes, lovelies.