Yes, it’s THAT time of year again: The Season of the Witch, All Hallow’s Eve, Trick or Treat, the Night of Mischief and, most definitely (my eyes are bleeding), really age-inappropriate costumes.

 

You know it’s true. You’ve worn them.

Every damn year you consider if you can pull-off that Wonder Woman costume just one more time. Or God forbid, you’re married to someone who insists on exercising his inner cowboy, complete with chew and spurs, except his belly is rolling over the belt buckle and he wants you to dress as Pocahontas but with a push-up bra and fish-net stockings.

No.

So, in the hopes that you will have the foresight and good taste to not embarrass your family any more than you normally do, let me suggest a few guidelines for choosing that one perfect costume that represents your inner ‘freak’.

 

  1. Wear comfortable shoes. I know this sounds dull, but unless your going to sit in a chair all night and swing your delicate ankles to and fro, or you’re looking to get laid and insist on the ‘fuck-me’ stiletto-on-high, wear something on the dogs that can carry you without real blood seeping from the toes, or the inevitable ‘trip’ as you make your entrance, which just defeats the whole purpose don’t ya think?

  2. Wear undergarments…. under. That’s where they’re meant to be. You are NOT Madonna. SHE isn’t even Madonna anymore.

  3. Practice wearing your costume. Trust me. Reach for something. Bend down. Sit. Walk up stairs. Sip a drink. Eat from a fork. Get it properly fastened for God’s sake. I’ve seen all of these simple tasks in EPIC FAILURE mode. Sorta like; rip, shred, oops, aaaahhhh, gurglegurgle, shit, I’ve broken something…. kind of failures. They are amusing, I’ll give you that, but I doubt you want to be on the receiving end of everyone else’s ‘Night To Remember’… or maybe you do?

  4. Garter Belts. All I can say is that if you are of a ‘certain’ age, and you actually REMEMBER garter belts, and trying to keep your skirt down all day long as you navigated your way to the girls room for a change of you-know-what, they just look trashy. They really do. Would you want a male to wear a jock strap where the sun CAN shine? I thought so.

  5. If your costume is accompanied with accoutrement ( think: whip, parrot, roller skates, a pyramid) make sure you know how to use them, drink with them, fit in a cab, or through the door- which is probably where you’re going to be directed if you take up too much space, or catch on fire. How did Cleopatra do it, I’ve always wondered?

  6. Consider the weather. Hot. Humid. Cool. Windy. Nothing is more uncomfortable than pitting-out your Marie Antoinette gown, feeling your face melt off, not being able to fully share your I Dream Of Jeannie muffin-top under a coat, or having the torch on your Statue Of Liberty get-up bent over in surrender at a $100 per plate Republican fund-raiser fancy Halloween party (just sayin’). It might even get you on the no-fly list.

  7.  False is Fine. Eyelashes, boobs, butterfly wings, wigs, blood, pretending your actually enjoying yourself. It’s one night for God’s sake. You can fake anything, am I right?

  8. I have a sort of litmus test I put some decisions through: What would a 60 year old Sophia Loren do? She was beautiful. She aged well. She had class. She had a long-term successful marriage and two awesome children. I was not, nor have ever been, a Sophia Loren, but would I wear a French Maid’s costume? Sophia says ‘No’. I agree with Sophia.

  9. I’m all about pushing ‘limits’. Yes. Push them. But don’t loose sight of the long-term repercussions. We are all grown woman for the love of God, And you know what a PUSH means.  Be an ADULT. An ADULT.

  10. And unless you look like Heidi Klum (after several children- God how I hate her) then stay away from the pussy.

 HAPPY HALLOWEEN!



  • Karen D. Austin - I don’t think I’m dressing up this year. Nothing can top the year I went as Tammy Faye Baker and won scariest costume (a couple of decades ago). The similarity was eerie. But now she’s not relevant, so it would just be sad and pathetic if I dressed up like her again. I peaked very early in my Halloween brilliance.
    Karen D. Austin recently posted…Chocolate & FlavanolsMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - hahaaaaaa. You peaked early did you? I think we all did. So funny.ReplyCancel

  • Lisha Fink - For the last three or four years I’ve been a ghost. Pull out a white skirt and tank top (New Orleans is hot in October, yo), wrap a $4 packet of cheesecloth around my head and smear the day’s mascara under my eyes. I’m sticking with what works.
    Lisha Fink recently posted…The Lesson of the Cup and StickMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Brilliant! Especially the smearing of the mascara. I’m thinking maybe no shower or hair wash or leg shave for the week and then go out as a homeless person, though here, sadly, that would not be unusual. Thanks for stopping by Lisha. Always LOVE your comments.ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - I am so hoping my days of choosing a costume are over!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I thought mine were too until earlier this week when I got an invitation to Anne Rice’s Vampire Ball!!! OMG! This should be good. I’m going as a Victorian lady vampire in drag. Pic’s to follow.ReplyCancel

  • Ruth Curran - Oh my…who would have thought of “practice wearing your costume”… Only you :)! Too, too funny!ReplyCancel

  • Diane - Priceless advice! Priceless! Timely. And definitely needed! :) Sooo . . . no to the garter belt? Whew!
    Diane recently posted…Teaching the BoysMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - No garter belt. And NO boobs falling all over over the place Diane. I’m warning you- keep the girls under wraps this year okay?ReplyCancel

  • Roshni - I’m just going with a basic mask and calling it good!! My kids are the ones who are going all out…with blood and gore, that is!
    Roshni recently posted…Celebrating Diwali in AmericaMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Of course they are, as they should. I’m all for the basic mask. In my case I will be a witch- not a stretch.ReplyCancel

  • Lisa Carpenter - Hahaha. I had never ever considered visible jock straps. Yep, you sure put that in perspective. Thanks for the chuckle.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Gros. Just GROS. And I’ve seen them. I. Am. Not. KIDDING.ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - Maybe we should just hand out candy at our front door!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Sounds great, however, I’m going to a costume party… as a drag queen.ReplyCancel

  • Vashti Q - Ah, ha,ha,ha! You’re always hilarious! Thanks for the laugh. :DReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Thank you! You’re a doll. Hey! Maybe an outfit?ReplyCancel

  • Rosalind Warren - “Stay away from the pussy” has a couple of possible interpretations. But I’m pretty sure I know which one you mean. :) ReplyCancel

  • William Kendall - The last time I was in a costume was for a party as an adult. I was wearing a Civil War Union officer’s uniform.
    William Kendall recently posted…Going Up The StepsMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I can see that. Very appropriate. Which side?ReplyCancel

  • Lois Alter Mark - I think it may be time to give Halloween back to the little kids.ReplyCancel

  • Helene Cohen Bludman - So funny! Yes, I will be sure to use my whip properly when I go out trick or treating!ReplyCancel

  • Cathy Chester - You are so funny. That is the best! Ha! I think I’ll play a Curmudgeon this Halloween. Yup. That’s what I’ll be. ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - You play a ‘curmudgeon’???? That WOULD be a costume!ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - Funny. The only time I wore Halloween costumes was at Nintendo. I even went as Cruella one time. Appropriate wig, of course. Hey, if Lanny were alive the western wear wouldn’t be a costume. It was what he wore all his life. ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Authentic is great! It’s the pretenders that get my head shaking, and I’m SURE Lanny WAS NO pretender- or you.ReplyCancel

  • Tammy - Damn it, woman. You take ALL the fun out of Halloween. Cleavage that is so big it catches fire by the end of a cigarette, dresses that hike up so high you can see Kansas, men wearing speedos feeling all comfy and to the left. What is left for those of us who sit on a bench with an ice-cream cone to critique (criticize) those who clearly have no mirrors in their homes? Bah! Your common sense be damned! Let the weirdness begin! By the way…one year I was a Drag Queen …. and nobody knew. What does that say about me?!
    Tammy recently posted…If I Lost My Breast, I Would Count Myself LuckyMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It says you’re versatile! Let your FREAK FLAG FLY!!!ReplyCancel

  • Sharon Greenthal - I am not a fan of Halloween or dressing up in costumes, and you are pretty funny! What the heck is with Heidi Klum, anyway – she’s so incredibly beautiful.
    Sharon Greenthal recently posted…My Very First Flu ShotMy ProfileReplyCancel

We all have people.  You know, like the people next door, the people we meet, the people we work with, but I think when most of us use the term ‘people’ they are imagining family.

 

 

My birth family was pretty small– just my parents, my sister and I, one set of  grandparents in the city of our suburb, and the other set in a trailer next to the Seminole Indian reservation in Central Florida (long story).

 

My father was an only child.  No one in his extended family liked each other much.  The back-breaking manuel labor of working the railroad lines and drinking away your salary at the end of the week which resulted in weekly bar brawls fueled by cheap hootch and pissed-off wives, had seen to that.

 

My mother had two sisters, but one had run-off with a priest to Texas and the other stayed in Florida (My parents moved to Ohio from sunny Florida because they were always bucking the trends).

 

I grew-up being told that my Dad was English (and maybe Jewish somewhere along his line since that’s what I remember hearing behind closed doors when my grandmother was pissed at my grandfather) and being certain that my Mom was French Canadian because I could barely understand a single word I ever heard those grandparents’ speak and when my mom was really pissed at me she swore in French, which, btw, does not have the intended effect.

 

Later on, after I married into a large family, and became aware that they not only knew a lot about their heritage (Czech/Swede & English) but that they were proud of it, I wanted to know more details about mine, but by that time all of my grandparents had passed and my Mom & Dad didn’t really know more then that, and I wondered, ‘What’s wrong with you people?’ (which is something I’ve asked myself repeatedly in a myriad of situations over the years), but because it was 1991, and our son’s First grade teacher told use we needed to get this new thing called a Personal Computer for the house because she just knew it was going to be the future and she thought Chase should write that future, and I said, ‘Are you kidding? Do you know how much those things cost?’ so we took out a loan and bought a first generation PC that was about as big as the freezer in our fridge and had it’s own room- I was able to do the research.

 

On my own.

 

And it has been quite a ride.

 

Before there was Ancestry (dot.com) there was the Ancestry Repository of the Church Of Latter Day Saints (which maintain that one should know who their ancestors are so as to have them greet you at the Pearly Gates and show you the ropes as you negotiate with The Lord in Heaven because if you thought LIFE was a negotiation ETERNITY’s gonna be a bitch), and they just happened to have a lot of information transcribed and available on the interwebs and since now I had access to the interwebs I dialed-up and if there wasn’t an electrical storm outside and there were no incoming phone calls, I was in my own kind of Heaven.

 

Score.

Twenty-four years later, I have unearthed:

 

 * That one female ancestor had 18 children. Are you frigging kidding me? She had a baby every year after her nuptials….and then she died. Who wouldn’t? 

 

* That one of my paternal great grandmothers birthed 14 children (again- really?) and that the oldest child was committed to an insane asylum four months after she died, (and her husband married her sister) and where she – my aunt, remained for 30 years, with her teeth removed because she bit another inmate and that inmate died as a result of those wounds. Interestingly, my father had never heard her name mentioned in all of his life. Not one visitation is recorded over those 30 years. She is buried next to her mother.

 

 

* That the golfer Tom Watson is my paternal grandfather’s Uncle’s son.

 

 

* That many of my ancestors owned and operated saloons with ’cause of death’ listed as ‘liver failure’.

 

 

* That one of my gggrandfathers hold’s two industrial patents on mechanisms that were pretty much obsolete by the time he filed them. One was a beer bottle holder that rotated tabletop-style. The other was a very complicated drapery rod. Why? I don’t have a God damn clue. His wife finally kicked him out and his last census record is in a flop-house in another state. He lists his ‘Occupation’ as ‘Inventor’. It should have read ‘Clueless’.  

 

 

* That one ggrandfather died in the Spanish Influenza epidemic of 1918 and is buried in a Pauper’s Field. Make of that what you will. I know I have. 

 

 

* That another ggrandfather was a Justice Of The Peace. He mostly married his family members- to each other. 

 

 

* That my maternal grandmother was an illegal alien until she was 54 and would have remained illegal if immigration services hadn’t knocked on her door at 2:30 in the morning threatening to deport her. I can imagine her hysterics in French. “Mais je na bebes dans ce pays!”: But I have babies in this country! “Mon mari honnete homme, le poissson trop, mais bon!”: My husband good man, he fish too much, but good!, and “Je tue personne!!: I kill no one!  The officers probably just gave up. She got her papers pronto, btw. 

 

 

* That there have been a few ‘pre-mature’ births of ‘full-term’ babies along the way- just sayin’.

 

 

* That 1st cousins married–a lot. A few had to get special dispensation from the Catholic Church- and they did.

 

 

* That I have ancestors that have fought in the Revolutionary War, The French and Indian War, The War of 1812, The Civil War, and each World War. My father’s cousin Jimmy, the only child of my Aunt Irene, died on an army base here in the States, during the Korean War, without ever seeing action. His death certificate remains ‘classified’. I don’t know where he’s buried.

 

 

* That there has never been a fortune made that wasn’t lost.

 

 

* That I’m only the second to graduate from College (after my father) and the first female. I am the ONLY person that ever went on to graduate school– until recently.

 

 

* And that, I am, of course, a direct descendant of Royalty.

 

But one of the most interesting tidbits that I have unearthed was that some of my PEOPLE are buried right here in Louisiana- and they’re Cajuns (Which were Acadians expelled from French Canada by the British because they wouldn’t sign an Oath of Allegiance to the Crown).

They were rounded up in the woods of Nova Scotia and herded onto ships in the Bay of Fundy, crammed hundreds over capacity, to Baltimore, Maryland, in the year 1761, to rot on the docks, until the City procured transport to French territory in the South, and they landed in New Orleans, and made their way upriver to St. Gabriel, and mingled with slaves and Indians and malaria and exotic spices and started all over again.

Like me.

And I found them….

These are my people too.

 

Who are yours? 

All cleaned and dusted off. Hi family!

 

 

St. Gabriel Cemetery
Iberville Parish, LA

 

 

 

St. Gabriel Catholic Church built by the Acadians and recently renovated.



  • Aussa Lorens - How fascinating! I love the person who killed someone with her teeth– and the premature full sized babies.

    Sad for the unvisited psych ward gal though… we have had a lot of people like that as well.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - And this facility has a graveyard with a bunch of unmarked graves (sound familiar) however, this Aunt of mine was buried in the family plot off site- thank God. So sad.ReplyCancel

  • Cary Vaughn - I think mine on my father’s side were just a bunch of Southern slave drivers (my middle name – Sherman – was passed down from my father who got it from his father and so on). And My grandmother informs me that I am of South African decent and that James Michener wrote about our family in one of his novels or something (she told me when I was very young so do not remember the name). My great grandfather also founded the very first Church of Christ in Mississppi (again, this from what I learn from my grandmother). I guess I need to brush up on my family history.
    Cary Vaughn recently posted…How to Prevent Litter TrackingMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - All of this sounds so fascinating Cary! You SHOULD do your research! My grandmother always said we were related to Jesse James,, but I’ve been able to debunk that. His mother was the sister of a step-mother. Oh, how family rumors start…..ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - This is a timely post for me, since I’m just back from doing some initial research in Sicily. I came back with a clue to something I’m following up on that could be juicy, but not as juicy as yours!
    Carol Cassara recently posted…Fourth century girls just wanna have funMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Genealogy is sooooo fascinating. I’ve yet to visit so many of the places my ‘people’ have actually lived. Wouldn’t THAT be a great trip? Why yes it would- you just proved it!!ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - I’m adopted, from Taiwan, so I don’t know much about my blood relatives. I have quite a few dysfunctional relatives so I’m not too excited to seek out more! But, I can see how fascinating it could be to know some of these things. Too bad you don’t have any people in the Bonaventure cemetery! You’d have an excuse to hang out there…the coolest place in all the world.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Two questions: 1) from Taiwan???? and 2) What’s this Bonaventure Cemetery???? I need to go there.ReplyCancel

      • Kathleen O'Donnell - Yes, I’m half Asian. I was adopted at birth in Taiwan by American, military parents who were stationed in Taiwan.

        Cheryl…the Bonaventure is THE place to hang (if you’re into that sort of thing, which I am) and it’s in your hood! It was made famous by the book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.ReplyCancel

  • Elaine Ambrose - Fascinating! You could write a separate blog about every relative. Start with the one who ran off with the priest…ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I really could. What stories I could tell….ReplyCancel

  • Kim Tackett - Oh my goodness, you have a lifetime of stories there…to learn and to write. Love that you did the research and love the stories (and I agree, 18 babies…yikes).
    Kim Tackett recently posted…four days a week :: adjusting to the time changeMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Holy Shit!!! 18!!! She lost her virginity and then died. Between the two events she had babies. What a life.ReplyCancel

  • Shy'ro Channing - Amazing what a history & your sense of humour kills me lol. I have to admit I have been curious but haven’t really found out that much thus far.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Making fun of myself is cheaper then therapy.ReplyCancel

  • Diane Tolley - Absolutely fascinating! There’s nothing more exciting and unbelievable than true life!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - That’s for sure. And this is only a ‘selection’ from my files. Oh boy….ReplyCancel

  • William Kendall - One of my forefathers was a landscape architect for the Dutch royal family. One of my sisters-in-law counts General James Longstreet among the members of her extended family, so somewhere along the line one of his kin ended up a Canadian.
    William Kendall recently posted…GunshotsMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Oh! I forgot! My ggggrandfather was Joseph Gouguen. One of the fathers of Acadia. He negotiated with the American Founders over Acadian support for the ‘Rebels’ in America. Have you ever heard about him?ReplyCancel

  • Lisa Carpenter - This is fascinating, Cheryl! I love hearing about such finds. I know a lot on my dad’s side but very little (nearly nothing) on my mom’s. She refuses to share… as does her sister… which makes me wonder all the more. ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - As it should. I’m REALLY good at this. If you want me to dig- give me a call.ReplyCancel

  • Cathy Chester - Terribly fascinating, Cheryl and of course your funny spin helps too. But you are so blessed to know your heritage. You should be on that show on PBS about learning your roots. I’d LOVE to be on that show.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Me too! I wish someone would contact me and do all the work, send me to all the right places with pro’s helping, and then wrap it all up in a neat little bow.ReplyCancel

  • Femme-de-Finesse - I’ve walked a similar path. It’s such a roller coaster of emotions as I become proud of those I “meet” then disappointed with the next person. Fun way to explore history, though!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Yes it is! I can’t imagine (now) not knowing no matter what. And I haven’t unearthed everything. There are still people (situations) living people won’t talk about- which makes me want to know more! Wishing you safe travels on your own exploration!ReplyCancel

  • Ruth Curran - I think that having all those children might have also contributed to all that drinking…and liver failure….and marrying family members :)!!! I love your perspective and how you weave a tale – you crack me up and I love it! ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Thanks Ruth! Maybe? I know it would have me! HAHahahaaaaReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - All my ancestors came from Germany. The maternal line had carpenters, bakers, and my Great-grandfather was a sailor. The last time he came home from the sea, he hung himself because my Great-grandmother put my Grandmother out of the house (you can guess the reason), and my Grandfather (her first cousin) paid her way to America. She wouldn’t have been let into the country with a two-year-old child and no husband, but people were clever then. She wore widows weeds and a golden band with a black mark on it (that denoted the death of a husband). The other side has an interesting story too.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - My husband’s side has a similar story. His grandfather is the son of a ‘French Soldier’ and his mother immigrated unmarried with the child, from Sweden, where she was placed on the outskirts of town. Wow.ReplyCancel

  • Angela Weight - You are so funny. Your family sounds a lot like mine without the French cursing.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - There was a lot of cursing- in several languages. Hahaaaaa.ReplyCancel

  • Wendy Walker Cushing - That is so fascinating! My mother has paid a geneologist to do this for her and we were all given a book. My husband’s grandmother spent her whole life doing this research and they go back past the Viking times. He is a direct descendant of King Frosty of Finland! There are some other interesting characters like that. haha ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - King Frosty? Any relation to Kris Kringle? hahaaaaaReplyCancel

  • Rosalind Warren - Well of COURSE you’re descended from royalty? Aren’t we all? :)ReplyCancel

  • Linda - A couple of years before she died a great aunt, told us of ancestors known as the Harp Brothers, who have been dubbed Kentucky’s first serial killers. They made their living by killing and taking what they wanted. There is a marker (Harp’s Head) in Kentucky at the site where one had had his head cut off and displayed on a stake. After their deaths surviving family members changed the name to Erp. We do know we have Erp ancestors but have not made an official connection. Their story is available on the internet.
    That same aunt told us that she had never seen her birth certificate so we got a copy for her. It had her name listed as one she had never known. She said her parents were very superstitious and thought they probably believed if they didn’t use her true name that death could not find her.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - WOW!!! I LOVE these stories. I’ve never heard of the Harp Brothers, or using a different name on a certificate to thwart death. Fascinating. I hope you do the research and share it with all of us. I would LOVE to know more!!!!ReplyCancel

  • Rasma Raisters - I was born and raised in New York City. I am an American-Latvian. My parents and all other relatives were born and raised in Latvia. My parents had to leave their homeland during WWII. My dad Eriks Raisters was a popular Latvian poet and writer. ReplyCancel

 

Dear America,

I am Ebola. I’d like to introduce myself.

 

 

I am an ancient virus. I have lived a million life times.

 

I was birthed in the primordial ooze of a forming living planet.

 

I laid in the soil and waited for a root to take me up into a fruit.

 

I laid in the belly of the winged creatures that feasted on the fruit- still not a perfect host, just a resting place.

 

When I was younger, I waited in the excrement of the creature, in caves which gave cover to humans during storms, but this proved inefficient, so I mutated and slept in the blood of the creature itself, confident that it would find another host for me, all the while waiting- waiting for perfection.

 

And I was not disappointed.

 

My vessel, the Chiroptera, the Bat, often found the tender skin of swine a pleasant diversion, and so did I.

 

My perfect host was only one-step away.

 

And it is You.

 

I exist only to replicate. I have no other desire.

 

I am mighty and swift, hoping that in your attempts to attend to your dying, and in the hysteria that will surely be the result of the gruesomeness of my presence in your bodies, you will be careless.

 

And you have been.

 

I LOVE America-aside from hitching a ride on a man who knew he had been exposed, I didn’t wait too long to really get going, and you accommodated… when this human began to have bloody stool, you sent him away with an antibiotic.

 

Hahahaaaa.

 

By the time I was fully vested in his body, he was quarantined, but in a hospital that was simply not prepared for my dedication to my life’s work.

 

In fact, two of the women who ministered to his needs, have become my next generation, and you allowed one of them to get on an airplane.

 

I can not say ‘Thank You’ with enough humility.

 

Please don’t have your health care providers fully trained in infectious disease control, or provide them with proper gear. Your communities don’t really need to dispose of contact material in any more then a paper bag in the local dump- or a garden hose.

 

Please don’t ask people where they have travelled to- always believe them.

 

Please don’t require the people that have cared for my host tell you where they live, or to not get on mass transportation. I thought your allowing Nurse#2 to return from Cleveland even though she was already feeling ME was brilliant. Keep that up.

 

Please continue to disseminate the ‘We’ve got this under control’ attitude. So Wild West. I’m hoping to get out there, actually.

 

Maybe a train?

 

And stop debating the merits of attending to ground ZERO in West Africa. It’s a waste of time.

 

Trust me.

 

 

In closing I would just like to say I appreciate your generous welcoming, and I really enjoyed Dallas.

 

 

Go Cowboys.

 

 

The New Black?



  • Cary Vaughn - Very dark post, but I really liked it.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - What are you doing up at this late time at night? I NEVER post this late! But here you are! SHare Cary. Share.ReplyCancel

  • Nancy Tienvieri - Thank you Cheryl….great post. Love & miss you!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Hey Nance!!! Nice to see you here! Thanks. Miss you too! xxooReplyCancel

  • Lisha Fink - Nice personification of a very creepy truth.
    Lisha Fink recently posted…The Big OMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Very creepy. Very true. EeeGads we better get a handle on this.ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - Dear Ebola. Stay the F away from me and mine! I’ve got garlic. And crucifixes.
    Carol Cassara recently posted…Sicily: fever dreamsMy ProfileReplyCancel

  • Elaine Ambrose - I read this last night and again this morning. I’m trying to decide if you’re being satirical or serious. Either way, it works.ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - You are a clever chick, Cheryl. Great post, sad but all too true.ReplyCancel

  • Kim Tackett - wow. Still kind of reeling from this. Thanks for writing something so powerful…I wish I had a better response. Just wow.
    Kim Tackett recently posted…this week’s mojo to go :: 17 octoberMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It’s been amazing watching this unfold hasn’t it?ReplyCancel

  • Sheryl Kraft - Chilling and so scary…ReplyCancel

  • David Stillwell - I loved this…. it was captivating, accurate, and a smack on the ass…. The satirical accuracy is a rivet to the brain, and the imagery was a flashback to the primordial memory in every cell….. Outstanding!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - WHy THANK YOU oh great one. Coming from you, I’m flattered.ReplyCancel

  • Starr Bryson - Cheryl says what we’re all thinking in a satirical and humorous way. There’s nothing funny about this, but the sarcasm and reality of what she writes is a bit tongue in cheek. Clever. ReplyCancel

  • Lisa Carpenter - Oh, my. So eerily stated. And so unfortunately true. Illuminates the reality in a clever, memorable manner. Scary…ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Boy oh boy. And now someones on a cruise ship.ReplyCancel

  • Ruth Curran - Chilling tale told as only you can Cheryl.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Thank you Ruth. It was the only way I thought I could tell it and NOT add to the hysterics.ReplyCancel

  • Anne-Marie Kovacs - Never would have thought that the ebola story could be told in prose. All the facts and succinct too! Wow. Well done!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Don’t you think that some of life’s lessons are best told in prose? It, somehow, makes them more accessible. Thanks Anne-Marie.ReplyCancel

  • Helene Cohen Bludman - Eek! This made my skin crawl. I fear that with each day we’ll hear of another Ebola case. It seems almost impossible that we’ll be able to contain this disease.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Contain- Yes. Eradicate- No. So many questions….ReplyCancel

  • Diane - Genius! Satire. Says it all!
    Diane recently posted…A Devil of a DeliveryMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Sometimes ‘satire’ is the best way to communicate don’t ya think Diane?ReplyCancel

  • Valerie - I live in Atlanta where we are treating patients and I’m covering the story for the NBC station. Loved your piece! I thnk a travel ban may be coming soon, and just today covered a kick-butt training session for nurses.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Well, it’s about time! I’m so flattered that a real live news person read this post! I’m even more excited that nurses are getting proper training! Keep up the good work I’m sure you do. Thanks ValerieReplyCancel

  • Doreen Mcgettigan - I am glad I am not the only one thinking our ‘LEADERS’ are idiots!ReplyCancel

  • Kimberly Joyce Dalferes - This is the best explanation of Ebola is the U.S. that I have read. There’s now word of Ebola on a cruise ship. ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Wow Kimberly I thank you! PleASE SHARE.ReplyCancel

  • Lois Alter Mark - Oy. Nothing else to really say on the topic …ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - True in one sense, but California has a bigger, more potential immediate disaster. One young woman who went to her old high school, and then to a reunion has died of Meningitis. That can be passed so much more easily and with her college courses, travel, and visits, they assume hundreds have been exposed.ReplyCancel

  • Jennifer Steck - There’s lots of catch-up work to do, but our medical professionals will get things under control. They will be forced to in order to protect themselves. My prayers go out to the brave health workers on the front lines. There are so many other areas that are of greater risk, but we don’t understand this one so it makes it so frightening.
    Jennifer Steck recently posted…Playing In the Namibia SandMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - All so true. My heart and prayers go out to the healthcare workers, as well. God Bless them all and keep them safe.ReplyCancel

  • Carollynn Hammersmith - Love it and your brilliant skewering of us stupid humans.ReplyCancel

  • Vagina - Ebola… Symptoms include fever, diarrhea, vomiting, bleeding from your orifices and a sudden urge to travel!! -_-
    Vagina recently posted…Change the Channel and Pass the Popcorn!~My ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - !!!!!! Come on folks- use common sense!ReplyCancel

  • the most - of every moment - A potential epidemic on US soil explained in layman’s terms!ReplyCancel

  • Lillian Connelly - I really think the “wild west” attitude is what is getting us into trouble.
    Lillian Connelly recently posted…Bedtime Postponement TacticsMy ProfileReplyCancel

  • Roshni - Mass hysteria is always appealing to a bug that wishes to become famous! :D
    Roshni recently posted…Terrific Tweets!My ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It seems like the hysteria is calming down now that more consistent info is being made available.ReplyCancel

  • Kristi Rieger Campbell - OMG I don’t know what else to say, either. Have to go wash my hands now… ReplyCancel

  • Jana - My gut tells me that Ebola is not going to be the apocalyptic end of us all — but I’m interested in seeing how it all plays out.
    Jana recently posted…I’m a Swinger!My ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I agree. And it’s been a very interesting few weeks seeing how our so called ‘experts’ deal with this. EeeeGads.ReplyCancel

  • piper george - That is really quite creepy!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - That illustration is something, don’t ya think? A PLAGUE doctors outfit. OMG!ReplyCancel

  • Vashti Q - Great post Cheryl! I really enjoyed it.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Thanks Vashti! Let’s hope we don’t get another letter in our collective mail.ReplyCancel

 

As the sweep of iced Canadian air pushed through the hard woods of New Brunswick, like a reaper strumming dead bones, a French immigrant family traveled by open carriage to the border of Canada, and crossed by foot onto American soil into Maine.

 

They managed by rail, and truck, and bus, and luck to find Boston.

The Father had a brother there already. The brother spoke of steady work, lodgings with heat, and stores where all you had to do was walk in and choose food, with fruit that came from wondrous places- like pineapple and banana. Warm places. Islands. You could taste them.

 

The Parents of this family had little formal education. It wasn’t needed to continue the trade on a fishing boat. The family tradition of hand-to-mouth. Eat what you catch. Sometimes you don’t– eat at all.

 

 

The Father did odd jobs for Boston- like occasionally running bootleg liqueur  along the Bay of Fundy or repurposing coat closets with indoor plumbing for rich people.

 

The Mother was in service as an upstairs French maid for a prominent Brahmin family on Beacon Hill, until the Depression hit, and then even all the money in the world couldn’t save you. Or their jobs.

 

By 1934, with a new baby just born, the parents delivered their eldest child to live with nuns. They couldn’t feed her and her two sisters combined.

 

The Mother was allowed to visit for one hour, once a month. Sometimes the child didn’t attend the visits. The Mother was told the child was being punished for bad behavior, that God wiling, hopefully next month she’d be more obedient.

 

 

When the Mother inquired as to the offenses, she was told that it was of no concern to her as long as the child was under the roof of the Lord and the Mother continued to require their services.

 

The Mother visited every month- for over a year.

 

 

By then, the Father had decided to move to the water, to leave the city, where he could fish for their supper, and on their way, they gathered their eldest daughter from the Nuns, and vowed to never set foot in a Catholic Church again.

 

The daughter was afraid of closets now. They didn’t ask why, but the Father removed every closet door from every house that they ever lived together-in again.

 

 

And then, one day, twenty year’s of days into the future, with the warm caress of a tropical breeze blowing through the fronds of soft palms, like a mistress whispering in the ear of a lover, a nun was found dead in a closet.

 

 

The family had finally made it to Florida…

 

The fishing was good.



  • William Kendall - Quite a twist!ReplyCancel

  • Diane - And now I’m wondering how much was truth and how much – fiction . . . Wonderfully told. I’m shivering at the sight of my closet now!
    Diane recently posted…At the ParkMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Some of it WAS true, but I’ll never tell what! Boo!ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - I love a good dead Nun in the closet story. You don’t read about those as much as you used to…ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - HA! I know right? I’m also jonesing for a good priest nailed to his parish cross tale. That’s always a good one.ReplyCancel

  • Cary Vaughn - That was pretty cool.
    Cary Vaughn recently posted…The Fantastic Mr. Old ManMy ProfileReplyCancel

  • Lynda@fitnessmomwinecountry - Okay I thought I was afraid of the dark or what was under the bed…but now Closets? Oh my Cheryl, this was good.
    Lynda@fitnessmomwinecountry recently posted…Random Thoughts and Being A BloggerMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - When in a Church do NOT open closets- they hide all sorts of things in them.ReplyCancel

  • Kim Tackett - Yikes…and that is exactly why I stay away from closets. All of mine will confirm that I haven’t cleaned them out in ages! Fun (in a creepy way) story.
    Kim Tackett recently posted…coffee :: served dailyMy ProfileReplyCancel

  • Chloe Jeffreys - Yikes! Like the nun, I never saw it coming.ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - You were a Nun in a past life right? HA!ReplyCancel

  • Susan Cook Bonifant - Great, great, great story.ReplyCancel

  • Ruth Curran - You hooked me with the image of the iced Canadian air and carried me all the way through to the sound of a nun’s bones falling out of a closet…. Gripping story, masterfully told!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Like iced fingers strumming a dead log she fell…..BOO!ReplyCancel

  • Stephanie Lucas - Very craftily written…I was drawn into the chilly scene and the BAM, I was trolling off a deep sea cruiser in Florida! Fantastic – I didn’t see that coming!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - It’s kinda a true story. I just followed my grandparents journey. Except for the dead Nun. Tho I’ve met a few I can see that happening to.ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - A delightful halloween story from Cheryl NichollReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Thank you. There will plenty more ‘stories ‘ to come this month. I love a good scare!ReplyCancel

  • Wendy Walker Cushing - Fun story! I love a good tale!ReplyCancel

  • Its All About The Yummy - I think I will leave my closet door open!ReplyCancel

  • Lois Alter Mark - Wow! I don’t think I’ll be going into my closet for a good long while now …ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - Okay, that was a smash ending. Except my mind keeps thinking of things like decomposition would have happened in a twenty year span. Great family legend.ReplyCancel

  • Angela Hall Weight - I felt like I was write there! Loved it. What a gift you have with words. ReplyCancel

  • Angela Hall Weight - Right, not write. Oops.ReplyCancel

  • Carol Cassara - Clever writing===just what I needed this morning to get me going!
    Carol Cassara recently posted…It’s a WTF kind of worldMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I’m so happy I could return the favor seeing how you do ‘it’ for me every morning. HahaaaReplyCancel

How many times have you heard ‘Follow Your Passion’?

 

And, how many times have you thought, even felt, like somehow, you’re ‘Passion’ must be hiding behind that big stack of unpaid bills?

 

How many times have you been advised to ‘Find what you’re passionate about and do THAT’?

 

How many times have you wondered if something must be wrong with you because you’re either not very complex or you suck at hide-n-seek?

 

How many times have you heard that if you ‘do’ what you’re passionate about you’ll never work a day in your life?

 

How many times does a day’s work resemble unicorns farting rainbows?

 

That many?

 

Me too.

 

So let’s be honest, you and me, between friends and all, let’s be speakers of truth.

 

Let’s look each other in the eye, take a deep drink of wine, and say, ‘Me too and we’re awesome still.’

 

 

When I was young I played piano- well, that might be an ‘over-statement’ but I still played.

 

 

My grandparents had an organ, and one day, when I was eight-ish, bored with serving the adults dirty martinis between poker hands, I went to the organ, flipped the switch, and began exploring the keys.

 

 

Oh. My. God. This is fun.

 

 

Fast forward: Playing a piano became my passion. I played before I went to school. I played at school. I played any time I had the time. And I got good.

 

 

Now, what I’m not telling you is that (shuuuushhhh) I was self-taught. I couldn’t read music. I had spent years devising my own musical notations. And I was HAPPY.

 

 

My mother begged (BEGGED) me to take lessons.

 

 

I declined.

 

 

Now, you can’t play an instrument and not SING with it, so I SUNG. Loudly. And well. Every damn day. I played records on my parents phonograph and I mimicked the ‘Greats’. I listened and I learned and I got g-o-o-d. Really g-o-o-d. People used to come to our house so that they could hear me sing. I could do Jimmy Page as well as Patsy Cline. Whateva ‘ya need folks. And I was HAPPY.

 

 

My mother begged (BEGGED) me to take lessons.

 

 

I declined.

 

 

Again, Peter pays Paul, and then they go see Simon, so I began to write my own music with lyrics.

 

 

And some of my stuff was pretty good. I had the wife of a Entertainment producer tell her husband about me- THAT good.

 

 

My mother begged (BEGGED) me to Follow My Passion.

 

 

And I declined.

 

 

I declined.

 

 

‘Why?’, you might ask.

 

Because I was HAPPY.

 

Because I suspected that once this ‘thing’ I WAS passionate about became the property of someone else, became something that I might make a ‘living’ at– would ruin it- the Passion. The Happy… so I ‘did’ other things, other jobs, had other responsibilities, made differences in other ways WITHOUT BEING PASSIONATE about them.

 

And, ‘ya know what? It’s been good. Even great– this life of mine.

 

It has been my experience that you don’t need to be passionate about something to do it well, or to have it be rewarding.

 

You don’t need passion to participate in a meaningful occupation, to do a good job, to become accomplished, to be heard.

 

Because most of us don’t even know what our ‘Passions’ are, let alone how to finesse them into a career, and if you do know what your ‘Passions’ are, there’s no shame in just experiencing them quietly, with loved ones, by yourself, for the JOY, for the …HAPPY.

 

All of those ‘people’ that espouse these little ditties aren’t passionate about you, or your passion. They are usually standing in front of a choir, selling a book, or receiving an award.

 

It’s just so easy for them to inspire you. You feel empty. You feel left out. You are ripe for the pickings.

 

And then you go home and try to identify your passions. But the kids are crying and you need to get dinner on the table, and your husband needs his med’s, and your boyfriend hasn’t called, and your father’s insurance won’t cover his treatment, and you don’t know…

 

What your passion is.

 

Because LIFE is getting in the way.

 

Except it’s not

.

Because living Life IS the great Passion, and you’re a big part of IT, and IT may not always say ‘thank you’, and IT may sometimes walk right past you, and IT doesn’t buy you a house, and IT let’s you get old, but IT’s the story. The big reveal.

 

YOU are the Passion. And you are an awesome creature in all of your ordinariness, and invisibility, and seemingly mundane vanilla existence.

 

Because without all of us, in every form, suffering every malady, and creating joy from dust, there would be nothing to live for.

 

It takes a hero to get up every damn day and go out again.

 

And life is made-up of unsung heros- thank God.

 

So consider giving yourself a break, apologizing to your own soul, kissing your own face, painting masterpieces on the weekends, creating an environment that provides for the next generation, rounding-up stray animals, being in love, being upset, being forlorn, planning a funeral, having a baby, being properly diagnosed, clean sheets, cold milk, hot showers, and receiving a smile from a stranger– all a part of your Passion.

 

You just might find yourself HAPPY.

At least enough of the time. 

 

 

All of these people are experiencing their PASSION’s without actually having laid the marble or painted the murals.

 

 

 



  • Sanrizz - I AGREEEEEEEEE! OMG! It’s like you’ve read my mind. You have no idea how many time I wondered if there was something extremely wrong with me! Thank you!
    Sanrizz recently posted…Love & Hip Hop: Hollywood … A Sad ShowMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Oh no. There is NOTHING wrong with you. I don’t know who started this additional ‘guilt-trip’ of advise but I call FOUL.ReplyCancel

  • Michelle - I REALLY needed to read this. Thank you so much for sharing!
    Michelle recently posted…Getting Old Isn’t For WussiesMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - You are so welcome. I feel a lot of us need to consider giving ourselves a break.ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - Exactly. Writing was more fun before I got published. Now it’s an “I have to” instead of an “I want to.” Be careful what you wish for…ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Be Careful What You Wish For, a cautionary tale.ReplyCancel

  • Lynda@fitnessmomwinecountry - Cheryl, I loved this so much ..I read it twice and will most likely go over again. It is so right on. I know there is nothing wrong with me or my head and thoughts. I am loving living life just as I am and being a mom and wife are my passions that shine through. All the rest is just icing {fat free of course} on the cake. :) Bravo
    Lynda@fitnessmomwinecountry recently posted…The 100 Percent MomMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I saw some kind of award ceremony where the WINNER ( I hate that word) said to the audience ‘Don’t let anyone stop you from following your Passion’, and I thought ‘ Really? Okay. That’s easy. No problemo. Gee, why didn’t I think of that’. Idiot.ReplyCancel

  • Kim Tackett - Most of the things I love doing, I am not very good at. And some of the stuff I am really good at, I don’t really love doing. And sometimes it’s not even about passion…it’s about joy, satisfaction and discovery. Thought provoking piece, thank you.
    Kim Tackett recently posted…wish you were here :: point reyes national seashoreMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - You hit it on the ‘head’ Kim. ON THE HEAD!ReplyCancel

  • MIchelle S. - Beautifully written. Right now I’m thrilled that my occupation and passion align. But, I have also had the experience of turning a passion into profit, and then watching the joy drain out of it. When you let others in by accepting money for your talent, you are also letting them into the process and giving them freedom to critique and comment. You’ll never view the activity in the same way again.
    MIchelle S. recently posted…Homemade Frozen MeatballsMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Yes. I’m not suggesting that ‘passions’ can’t be, or shouldn’t be, channeled into some kind of career- it’s just that so many people of influence make so many people without influence question their destiny, even make them feel like they have failed in some way. And that’s not accurate, fair, or even smart. Thanks for stopping by.ReplyCancel

  • Karen D. Austin - Agreed. I am very passionate about yoga, so much so that people ask me over and over again if I’m going to teach it. No. Way! That would make it a job, and then the joy it brings me would die. (And I have been a professional teacher for decades; yoga is a place for me to detach from that kind of bossy pants energy.) Glad you preserved good boundaries on what makes you happy!ReplyCancel

  • Kathleen O'Donnell - When your passion sucks the life out of you. Great post from Cheryl NichollReplyCancel

  • Cathy Chester - There are so many parts of us that we are, in a way, living our passions in our group. Writing, connecting, supporting, encouraging and not judging each other on what we do, how we write, and who we are. At least that’s my take on it. Passion is in the eye of the beholder. ReplyCancel

  • William Kendall - Well said!
    William Kendall recently posted…Murder Scene 2.0My ProfileReplyCancel

  • Janie Emaus - I loved this. I am passionate about my family and my writing and walking and laughing and…the list could on. I think passion is one of the greatest qualities a person can possess. Whatever that passion is. ReplyCancel

  • Ellen Dolgen - I never really had a hobby. I always thought maybe I was weird because I never really had a hobby. My friends had hobbies.
    Then I realized I DO have a passion. I am passionate about having fun and joy in my life and creating fun and joy in the lives of my friends and family. Love this blog…. I agree…..living life is the great passion!ReplyCancel

  • Ines Roe - I love what you say. I am one of those people who help women try and create a vision (passion by another name) of what they want in their life. But both words sound so solemn. The idea is to find something that is fun, fills you up and helps you get over the bumps it life. It doesn’t have to be a grandiose endeavor – just something fun!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I often times think it’s the small passions that are the most rewarding. And I agree with having them to help get over the ‘bumps’ in life! So true. You sound really good at what you do! We all need more of you. Ha!ReplyCancel

  • Tam Warner Minton - We all make choices, and I’m glad yours have made you HAPPY!
    Tam Warner Minton recently posted…Family RelationsMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Thank you. I hope yours have as well.ReplyCancel

  • Tammy Stafford - You seem passionate about that. ;) Second blog I’ve ready on following passions this week….and very well said!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Hahaaa. I guess I am! I never thought about this piece that way. Thank you!ReplyCancel

  • Diane Tolley - One of my DILs is a fantastic artist. Fantastic. When I asked her to illustrate my books, she refused for the very reasons you describe. “I enjoy it too much to make it a job.” I didn’t understand her then. I do now. Thank you!ReplyCancel

  • Rena McDaniel - It’s something so simple and yet most of us chase it our whole lives and miss so much.
    Rena McDaniel recently posted…SPARTANBURG SPEAKS OUT AGAINST ALZHEIMER’S!My ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Passion can be like quicksilver can’t it? I hope for passion in everyones life- at least once. But to make it something you seek, or try to create just defeats it’s incarnation. Thanks Rena. For commenting.ReplyCancel

  • Deborah Batchelor - LOVE this one!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Ohhhh. Myyyyyy. GOD! You are here! You read me!!! There has never been a happier SIL! LOVE AND MISS YOU PASSIONATELY (yes everyone- this is my sister-n-law).ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - And I LOVE YOU!ReplyCancel

  • Mari Collier - Well, it’s nice to know I’m so passionate. I’ll admit I must be. What I need now is my husband back so that he can put his arms around me and say,, “Aw, calm down, Mari,” when I get too passionate about something. Hugs.ReplyCancel

  • Esther Lombardi - I love those: Follow curiosity or follow the sunrise.

    I also was in a discussion today about the “follow your passion” mentality. There are all those moments in our lives that are not particularly inspired. It’s only later (looking back) that we realize the true significance of all those moments…
    Esther Lombardi recently posted…‘Velveteen Rabbit’ Writing to Life #booksMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - So true. At least we often realize the great moments in reflection. Can you imagine being able to recognize them all when they are occurring? We’d all be stopped in our tracks and never get anything done.ReplyCancel

  • Lois Alter Mark - Elizabeth Gilbert has a great video where she says don’t worry about following your passion — just follow your curiosity. I loved that, and I love this post!ReplyCancel

  • Alyson Shitastrophy Herzig - Cheryl you truly are a candy dish of amazing and awesomeness. I never know what I am gonna pull out but they are all good and sweet. ReplyCancel

  • Bodynsoil - Agreed and wonderfully stated. I don’t find the work the issue at any of my jobs. It tends to be who I work with that makes all the difference.
    Bodynsoil recently posted…Older Appreciated Person at Work,My ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Oohhhh. Don’t get me started on THAT one.ReplyCancel

  • Linda Roy - I feel like the “follow your passion” concept is a new one. At least for me. My mother did encourage my passions, but always made sure I understood that making a living was numero uno even if you absolutely dreaded getting out of bed in the morning to go and do it. Hence, I always pursued things that were uber not lucrative while siting in cubicles seemingly wasting my life away and hating every moment of it. I think following your passion is important, but I completely agree that if you find something you don’t hate with the fiery passion of 1,000 suns, you’re good at it and you can make a living at it – BINGO!ReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Sure. I’m not saying following your ‘passion’ is a bad thing. If you can make a living at it great. But there are a lot of people that have no idea what their passion is and feel like there’s something wrong with them. I just wanted those people to know that NOT KNOWING is okay too. PASSION is a BIG word isn’t it? 1,000 suns is what most people think they have to feel. Hey! That’s a good title for a new song girl- get on it!!ReplyCancel

  • KymberlyFunFit - My passion has been trying to find my passion. Ok not really. I have always felt left out of the passion convo as I could not id one burning, driving desire. Thanks for exposing the myth!
    KymberlyFunFit recently posted…Vanilla Sugar Cinnamon RollsMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - ANother part of the myth is this; My challenge has always been that I have TOO MANY- so which one to focus on and does that mean that I’ll have to leave the others behind if I concentrate on just one? I don’t want to do that, so I rotate them, which means I have become expert at none of them. But I’m okay with that. As for exposing the MYTH in all of it’s complications- it has been a pleasure.ReplyCancel

  • Lillian Connelly - I think what we really need to do is change the way we define success and find happiness in our daily moments. Doing what we love or are passionate about doesn’t have to be tied to monetary gain in order for us to feel successful.
    Lillian Connelly recently posted…Bedtime Postponement TacticsMy ProfileReplyCancel

  • Roshni - I guess you and I have different perspectives on this but I’m intrigued with your take on the topic, Cheryl! How awesome that you sing and play so well!! A vlog perhaps?!
    Roshni recently posted…Terrific Tweets!My ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I USED TO play and sing well. That ship has left the dock.ReplyCancel

  • Dana - This made me think how involved kids are in so many different activities, and at such an intensity that they burn out. The girl who loves lacrosse quits before she’s 16 because she plays it all the time, and has lost her passion for it.

    If you’re happy doing what you are doing, don’t mess with it.
    Dana recently posted…My biggest pet peevesMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - Would that girl happen to have had lunch recently at Coquette?ReplyCancel

  • Jana - I’ve always been the Jill of all trades, master of none. Basically, I like a lot of different things — but I’ll never be world famous for any of them. I also have an incredibly short attention span — so I just enjoy my passions while they last, and then move onto the next one.
    Jana recently posted…I’m a Swinger!My ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - I think that’s great. Passions can burn-out quickly and change often. Moving on is a healthy choice I think. Bravo.ReplyCancel

  • Piper george - I haven’t really found a passion yet – and that does worry me!
    Piper george recently posted…TTOT – From sarcasm springs glitterMy ProfileReplyCancel

    • Cheryl - You may not. You may find many. They may change or be short-lived. No problemo! You’re perfect just the way you are! All things about you are in the right place. Now ENJOY!ReplyCancel

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