Of Tragedies, Pain, Tears and Friends~~~~

Dear Darklings,



This I fear is going to be a very long post.



As I’ve said it appears that I have lived a romantic life, but I have to admit that I have to work at it. Even with all the dirt and filth, the obscenities, the horrors and insanity that surround me, the crassness and commercialism that well up like unthinking bedbugs, I have to work at having things beautiful, graceful, elegant and romantic even if I am an elder/elderly Goth.



It’s not being in denial, it’s looking past all that and trying to bring beauty even dark beauty into one’s life, one doesn’t have to buy new things to do that either, finds at yard and estate sales, 2nd hand shops, thrift stores, flea markets, with thought and ingenuity it is amazing what one can bring into one’s life and it’s not just things but an outlook and an attitude.



In my childhood I never thought of us as being poor, Dad had a “white collar job” and it paid a decent salary, but we were lower middle income, it was hard to save for a vacation, we rarely took one, any money saved would be for repairs or a sudden medical expense or a special purchase, we made do with things, learning to sew our clothes, buying day old bread, plant cuttings and seeds for flowers or to grow vegetables, making do and finding fun, free fun, purchasing cheap cuts of meat for stews, there were lots of mac and cheese, sometimes with ground round, sometimes with tuna, but we never thought of ourselves as really poor.



Christmas meant we would take the bus and see the stores all in their Christmas finery and seeing Santa, I remember how some of the stores would have these marvelous full human size displays that had sound and motion, each showing a scene that had humor, and us looking to find all the little details in the displays, we each got one toy from Santa and something nice from Mom and Dad and See’s candy from Grandma, for Halloween we made our own costumes and the pumpkins carved for Halloween became pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving.



For our birthdays Mom always baked a cake, Dad would buy ice cream, crepe paper streamers and my sister and I made hand written invitations to give to our school mates, but Mom would always write a little note to the parents inside saying “no presents please, just come and have cake and ice cream” because a lot of our school mates were from working families like ours trying to make ends meet.



Mom always managed to save some money and buy for my sister and I a special party dress, it had to last until we out-grew it and we had to keep it neat and clean. When we’d out grow our party dresses Mother would donate them all nice and neat on hangers to a local charity.



I remember one time I saw a little girl whose folks were really hard up but managed to make do, wearing my old party dress and she looked very happy, I went up to her and said “What a pretty dress, it looks pretty on you” and the little girl smiled and said “My Daddy bought it for me for my birthday” Mother and Dad taught us to always be polite and nice, but because of things that happened in my life I could see how hard it was for some people and simple things like a 2nd hand party dress could make a little girl happy.



One year Mother bought one for me that I didn’t like, it was very pretty and I loved the look of it but it was made of nylon and always scratched me around the sleeves, but I didn’t tell Mom I didn’t care for it, because my best friend Betty had one just like it but in a different color, hers was a pale blue with dark blue flowers and mine was pale pink with dark pink flowers and we were happy that we had similar dresses, so that was enough for me to tolerate the scratchiness.



Betty was a pretty and very happy girl, with blue eyes and blond hair, she was a little shorter than me and her hair was always in curls, my hair was dark, straight and in pig tails and I was taller than her, but I always felt gawky next to her because she moved with such grace. Betty had taken ballet lessons and said that if I took ballet lessons I could become graceful like her.



I remember pleading with Mother and Dad about the lessons but they weren’t sure we could afford them at the time. My sister who was a few years younger wanted to take lessons too but again money was an issue, I told Betty that there wasn’t any money for the lessons but Betty came up with an idea, once a week I would go over to Betty’s house and she’d show me what she learned in her class and taught it to me, even speaking like her ballet teacher. Plies, stretches, the foot positions, pirouettes, how to hold my arms and hands and we’d practice and dance, we must have worn out those old records, even today I think how patient Betty’s Mom must have been with our personal ballet lessons.



We were both 8 years old when she started teaching me, and we became best friends, sharing secrets, talking about books and boys and teachers and things, walking to school together, playing together, doing homework together, and after a while I noticed that I moved more gracefully, even my Grandma remarked on it.



Betty was just a month older than me, her birthday came in the early part of February and mine in the latter part of March.



I remember when my Grandfather died, I was sad that he was gone, however I always felt that in some way he was always around.



In Betty’s case that was my first dark tragedy and it marked me for the rest of my life. It was her 10th birthday, it was a very unseasonably cold day, Betty’s Dad set up some electric space heaters that had thick coils in them, to help warm up the house, their floor heater they had was working over time but the house never seemed warm enough, I remember a few days before the party Betty’s Dad talking to my Dad saying that they are going to have to insulate their house to make it warm but they’d have to take out a loan. Dad said that we were going to have to do the same thing.



I remember the bars over the coils of those space heaters were wide apart, they made me feel uneasy and I made sure I stayed away from them. Betty’s Dad had borrowed them from someone for the party, to help warm the house.



I remember saying to Betty “You’re 10 now but I’ll catch up to you next month at my Birthday party” Betty said to me “We’ll be 10 together” and hugged me. I remember Betty got a birthday present from her parents, it was a gold heart on a chain with her first name engraved on it, ‘Elizabeth’ on the front and on the back the date of her birth. Betty said to me that I was going to have a surprise on my birthday but she couldn’t tell me. I remember begging her to tell me but she said she promised my Mother she wouldn’t. “Some secrets have to be very special” she said. To this day I remember her saying that to me.



Betty’s Mother had a couple of ladies over to help out with the party, they were setting up the chairs so we could have the cake and ice cream, even if it was very cold outside we always wanted ice cream, one of the other ladies had us do party games, like “pin the tale on the donkey”, or “telegraph”, for some reason we were doing “blind man’s bluff”, the whole idea was to have the blindfolded person in the center and then each of us would quickly run up to that person touch them on the shoulder or arm and then dart away, but if the blindfolded person caught you then you were next.



I remember there were about 10 children there; because it was so cold some of the others couldn’t come to the party but for indoors it was enough people, we’d be moving around quickly darting in and out while playing this game. The boy who was blind folded got really close to Betty, she backed up as far as she could, so he caught another boy and just as they were about to put the blind fold on the other child Betty screamed.



She had backed into one of the electric heaters and she was wearing that pretty nylon dress in pale blue since she was the birthday girl, her dress caught on fire, the next thing we knew she was a pillar of flame, screaming and running, the children started to scream and run too, but I remember standing there frozen, my best friend was on fire and I was frozen I couldn’t move even to help her, everything seemed to be in slow motion.



Just then Betty’s Dad came running from the other room, threw Betty on the floor and tried to smother the flames with his coat, it was hard, the nylon kept burning and burning, it melted onto her skin making her skin bubble up and turn black.



One of the ladies gathered the children and put us into a bedroom away from what was happening, Betty’s mother was screaming, I remember another lady grabbing me by the arm saying “No! Don’t look!” but I did. Betty looked like a burnt match, I can’t describe how horrible it was.



I found myself in the bedroom with the other children, a lady was putting our coats on, we were all crying I kept running to the bedroom door crying for Betty and the lady roughly grabbed me time and again, later Mom discovered the bruises on my arm, I told her days later how the lady would grab me to keep me in the bedroom but Mom said the lady did the right thing.



Someone had called our parents, I knew my Mother couldn’t come and get me because my sister was sick with a cold and I had been brought by another parent.



After what seemed like a long time I heard my Uncle Mannie’s voice, he was in his work clothes, I ran to him and he picked me up in one swoop, I remember he smelled of wood because he was a carpenter, he came in his work truck, and left it running so it would be warm and took me home, I saw fire trucks and an ambulance, I could hear children and women crying.



We got to my parent’s house and Uncle Mannie carried me inside, I cried all the way home, my Grandmother was there and it appeared that someone had called my Mother and told her what had happened. I was screaming and crying, just hysterical from the fear and horror that I saw, my Mother undressed me and put me to bed but I wouldn’t let go of her and kept telling her what had happened I remember screaming that it would happen to me.



Dad came home just as the doctor arrived, and between my Mother, Grandmother and Dad they held me down as the Doctor gave me an injection to put me to sleep, the last thing I remember was screaming “I’ll never have another Best Friend again!!!”



I woke up two days later and felt numb, my sister was sitting in the little blue rocking chair next to my bed and had been reading a child’s picture book, she looked up at me with a serious face and said “Betty’s dead.”



All I could do was gather the thick warm comforter around me, I couldn’t talk. My sister, who was feeling better from her cold, told me how my parents, Granny and Uncle Mannie took care of me, and how the Doctor would come by in the evening to check on me.



Uncle Mannie was a widower and sometimes stayed with Grandma when his work brought him close to our town. He never married again and would send extra money to Grandma if she needed it. My sister and I loved him because he’d always would fix our dolls or repaired our doll house when our younger brother would break them (that was another reason we always plotted his demise). He even made furniture for our doll house and for us to use as well. I still have my little red chair that he made for me.



But Betty was gone, nothing could bring her back, for a week I didn’t go to school, my older brother (I’ll talk about him later, that was another tragedy) would bring my home work assignments to me. I wasn’t the only one out of school the other children who were at the party, stayed home as well, one of them, a little girl never did go back.



I hardly got out to bed, I was so afraid of leaving my room, Mom and Dad didn’t force me. My sister would come into my room to play card games or we’d do puzzles she’d talk but I barely spoke. One day she told me that Mom took my pink nylon party dress, cut it up and threw it away, my sister told me that Mom and Dad had heard more about what had happened, the space heaters were not safe because of how they were made and Betty’s nylon dress was highly flammable, of course my sister had a hard time saying the world ‘flammable’, she pronounced it ‘flame able’. Finally several days later Mom talked to me privately in my room.



She talked to me for a long time about Death and how horrible it can be and what I saw is something I’d never forget, and that I’ll always be sad whenever I’d think of Betty, but she told me that Betty wouldn’t want me to be sad, while I was sick in bed, they had Betty’s funeral and Mom and Dad went to it. Betty’s parents came up to them and said that they wanted to pay for my ballet lessons for a year, it was something Betty had pleaded with them and since Betty’s Dad made more money he agreed to it.



That was the Birthday surprise that Mom was going to tell me, and one other thing, Mom had bought a heart pendant on a chair exactly like Betty’s only my name was engraved on the front with my birthday on the back, that day Mom gave it to me, instead of my birthday. Then Mom asked me “What do you think Betty would want you to do?” and I knew, I was to get out of bed, go back to school, take my ballet lessons and do my best in everything.



Mom said to me that some day I’ll have another Best Friend, but I told her “No I won’t, it hurts to have a best friend.” And for years I never did, I’d have friends but I always kept a certain emotional distance.



Betty’s parents some months later moved away, but they did pay for a full year of ballet lessons from Miss Rose Ellison’s Ballet School, I never did dance in any of the recitals we couldn’t afford the cost of the costumes, but it went much longer than a year, I took lessons until I went to college.



When I was little I saved bottles and getting a nickel for each bottle and each week after that first year I’d pay Miss Ellison, what I didn’t know is that the lessons cost far more than my bottle money, but Miss Ellison let me stay, as I got older I’d baby sit and would pay for the lessons with my baby-sitting money. Some years later after Miss Ellison had retired she told me that when I was practicing and dancing in the classes I’d seem happy and she was right I was happy because sometimes I thought I was dancing with Betty.



But I never did have a 10th birthday party, not with my school mates, as a matter of fact I never had a children’s party ever again, Mom and Dad would do a small party with some family members but never a children’s party, my sister also told our parents she didn’t want one either, Betty’s death had affected her too. But for our brother’s birthdays Dad would take them and a couple of their friends to either a baseball or football game. In the long run, emotionally it was much easier.



But did I ever have another best friend ever again? Not for years, I was afraid to until some years later, Garvin was sweet and kind and gay, we worked for the same company, he adored my Mother, would tease my sister when she was in town, helped plan my brother’s wedding, and we became friends, we’d explore the night life together, go to Jazz Clubs and fledgling Goth Clubs although I wasn’t really into heavy metal music. We’d gossip, talk about the Ann Rice books,  go shopping, share secrets, car pooled, we found my vintage car that I'd restore, he’d design clothing for me and we’d love to either shop for or sew up vintage clothing. One year we made for him a “Zoot Suit”, long before the movie “The Mask” came out.



He volunteered at the local community Theatre and we’d would design lighting for plays, we became night owls which worked with our work schedules. Eventually we worked part time for a Community theatre company that specialized in murder mysteries, horror plays, Ghostly Drama’s, some Grand Gulnoild Dracula was always big, and occasionally a comedy like “Bell, Book and Candle” or “Topper” or “Blithe Spirit”, he knew a magician who’d design some special effects for them, we'd receive a stipend for it, that money helped to restore my vintage car. The little theatre developed a cult following for nearly 8 years, but then the building that was used was sold, the rent went up and it went out of business, but I could see that Garvin was in trouble before that.



We were doing “Dracula, the Musical?” (don’t ask but it’s true), working lights and special effects the new owners of the building said that we had to be out of it by November so it was our last production and it ran for 8 weeks, Thursday through Saturday evenings only, but Garvin looked like hell.



One evening just before closing night as we were re-setting the “gels” he told me he was dying, he had AIDS and nothing was working. I had wondered why he was being so careful around me at times. I knew of AIDS I had read all about it, he just sat there staring at the empty stage with the lights set, I could see that light was going out of his eyes, he’d given up. I walked over to him bent down, kissed his cheek and said “I Love you” very softly in his ear, the look he gave me is one I cannot describe except that it was a sort of joy and it energized him to finish the run, to direct the packing of all the lighting equipment so it could be either used someplace else or sold.



Then he sold or gave away all his things, put the money into a fund, checked himself into a hospice that cared for those dying of AIDS, he pleaded with me to not come and see him, or call him but I wrote to him every day and he would write a short note to me because now he was getting weak and tired. In the end he dictated a long letter to me; he was too weak to write, but it was a very special letter. He called me his Special Very Best and Very True Friend and I had through my letters given him the courage to make the transition and he had no fear of the end.



I had lost one friend and cut myself off of being close to anyone except for family and eventually Doyle, and then I had taken the courage to have a friend again risking the fact that I would lose him. I felt I had come full circle and had been healed, but in going around in that circle I discovered the darkness, and worked to find the beauty within it.

There were other tragedies in my life and with those I worked even harder to see beauty, I'll 'talk' about those another time.

Later Darklings

Of Spenserian Handwriting, Calling Cards and the children’s questions~~~

Dear Darklings,

I do love flashdrives in saving my observations and notes,  I'm taking a short break to down load this to my blog, I've been here since early this morning, Coralline is going to be dropped off again this afternoon, and we have things planned for the weekend.

An Odd Observation Darklings~~~~


Yesterday at my work as I was writing a Memo, my male colleague was watching me write it out and remarked to me “You have such beautiful handwriting”.



I looked up at him puzzled at first but he continued saying “my handwriting is terrible, and I’ve found a lot of people’s to be that way, it’s so bad that sometimes I can’t read it, but yours is beautiful, and so easily readable.”



I was flattered and told him so and thanked him for the complement, but I also said that he should have seen my Mother’s handwriting---so elegant and graceful, I try my best to emulate it, but always feel that I don’t succeed. I kept the letters mother would write to me after I moved into my own place, even though we had the telephone to contact each other, Mother just enjoyed sitting down and writing letters.



She felt she could speak of things from the heart without it being overheard by anyone else and she loved getting letters from me, but I always typed my letters, either on my old manual typewriter or later on the computer, but I always made sure that I included a handwritten note as well and I always signed my letters.



It wasn’t until Mother was old and had developed arthritis that it became difficult for her to write her letters, so I gave her my typewriter. I remember her first typewritten letter in which she apologized for not handwriting her letter, but the pain in her hands prevented her writing from being legible. But typed or written I saved every one. They are like a diary for me from Mother that I take out and read from time to time, just to hear her “voice” in my mind. And all the cards she gave me, birthday, holidays, special events, each one always had a special note inside. I’ve preserved them in a special scrapbook.



Mother always insisted that I have calling cards, a very old fashioned idea but so very important. Later I had two types printed up, personal and professional. The professional one was related to my job and the personal one was exactly what it was, my personal contact information.



Mother also insisted that I designate an evening when I would be at home to receive callers. I decided that Tuesdays were a good evening, because I discovered that on Mondays I was tired from setting up things at work and it seemed that events were always happening starting on Wednesdays. So my personal cards would say “at home Tuesday evenings 6:30 to 9 p.m.” which meant it was fine to drop by during those times.



And later with the advent of video recorders I could record any television programs that I wanted to see for later viewing.



It was also interesting that it encouraged some of my friends to do the same thing, later I had to add “please call in advance” after the time, because sometimes I’d have to work late, which didn’t happen every often. But as times became more wicked and evil, I dropped the time I would be home, because I never was sure when some one unauthorized would find my personal card.



Doyle remarked to me recently, than when I retire it might be a good thing to revive that portion of when I’ll be at home to receive visits. He thought that it was a good thing to do to sort of keep people at bay for when I didn’t wish to have visitors.



And thanks to Doyle I now have an excellent, reliable cleaning service to come by twice a week to do cleaning. It was decided that giving the extensiveness of the house that by coming by twice a week and splitting up the areas would be more efficient.



The beginning of the week they do the upstairs areas, bedrooms, the stairs, all bathrooms and the upstairs hall, downstairs the later part of the week for when I could have a possible party. But one lady said she’d be happy to come out just to do intense kitchen cleaning, such as the refrigerator and stove, I’d have to pay extra for that. I said that we’ll try it for the holidays and go from there.



I have to admit it does take a burden off of me and fortunately I am in a position to afford it, with those who cannot afford a cleaning service I recommend always having a schedule to do things, by having that it helps keeps things organized.



It seems that the questions put to me by Miranda and Coralline has also been asked by several of you who read my blog and sent to me nearly the same questions.



So I will answer---but remember Darklings there are some things that I will keep private.



As I said I’m an elder/elderly Goth, I’m in my sixties, but my hair although long has remained a deep dark brown with only a few streaks of gray of which one streak, flits over my brow in a silvery white wave, and makes it very distinctive. I do not dye my hair as I feel I’ve earned every gray hair on my head, which is not very much.



My hair is long, it goes just past my waist but nothing like the singer Crystal Gayle, as I said it is a very dark brown almost black color. I wanted my hair to grow and grow but one does get split ends, so they are trimmed on occasion, but with good shampoo and conditioner it remains sleek and controlled. When I was little Mother would braid my hair and my sisters’ hair into pig tails, my sister, Marie, lets her hair grow as well but she wears her hair in two braids that cross in the back and come up and around her head like a coronet. Why do we wear our hair that way, I think from habit, our Mother and Grandmother also wore their hair that way and we never sought to change it, as it seems to suit our clothing styles.



I made rolls out of old clean nylons to roll my hair onto and then it is brought up like two long cords over the top of my head and back, it is a very close approximation of the hair style worn by Gloria Holden in the movie “Dracula’s’ Daughter”.



For some reason with my oval face, slightly pointed chin, slightly broad forehead and a “widow’s peak” hair line, the style seems to suit my face and it gives the impression of being very business-like, that I take no nonsense. I have excellent straight white teeth thanks to good DNA and two wonderful dentists, but because of my love for coffee, tea and wine, on occasion I have lightened my teeth, but not too much, an over white set of teeth can be very off-putting just as much as teeth that are unsightly.



I’m tall still at 5 foot 7 inches, I use to be 5 foot 8 inches but they say as we get older we do shrink. I’m slender still with only a slight sagging here and there, for that I consider myself blessed and I also work out as well.



I have pale colored skin, hazel green eyes, and some dark circles under my eyes as well as a few wrinkles around the eyes, the dark circles become more pronounced if I do not get enough sleep, because I don’t tan, nor do I smoke and have taken care of my skin is the reason why it’s in such good condition. My nose is much like that of Gloria Holden’s and I’m still full lipped. My eyebrows are shaped like they use to wear in the late 1930’s to 1940’s.



I think because I saw the movie “Dracula’s Daughter” when I was young at the old art movie theater, that I was influenced by the film in some ways.



I have had people mistake me for being in my Forties instead of being in my Sixties, I prefer long dark skirts that brush at my ankles, but I have worn shorter skirts that come below the knees, on occasion I wear pant suits especially when its raining. I do wear heels but a more practical style for work no more than 2 inches and more the Cuban style heel and a more elegant look for evening wear. I wear Black or a combination of black and other dark colors as it is easier to combine and keeps my wardrobe easy to co-ordinate, and I feel that it is an elegant color as well as business like.



My legs are nicely shaped, with trim ankles, thanks to having taken ballet lessons which I still do as a work out, at least Doyle doesn’t have any complaints.



I prefer to wear clothing that has a vintage look to them and have worn vintage clothing for day wear, to work and for evening wear as well for a long time---why? Because the style fits and flatters me and my figure, its elegant and business like. It also seems to draw a certain amount of “respect and courtesy” from people around me, I’ve seen people straighten themselves up more, modulate their voices more, and are more polite. It seems, especially among men, they remember their manners, Doyle says that I seem to generate that energy towards people because of how I look and act.



I’m fortunate to have a friend who loves to sew and has sew up clothing for me from vintage or vintage reproduction patterns but she saves the patterns onto a muslin pattern to use over and over again. She has even copied some of the designs that Gloria Holden wears in Dracula’s Daughter as well as some of the more flattering Vera West styles. She really should go into business but she prefers to do things just for friends.



I adore Besame Cosmetics, and all things vintage. And when I do go clothes shopping I keep an eye open for anything that although modern made it looks vintage.



However when I’m doing gardening work I do wear jeans, a long sleeve shirt, tennis shoes, a straw hat, work gloves and sunscreen. But when I’m walking Belladonna, I still keep the hat, sunglasses, sunscreen and a dress or skirt.



People have said that I talk or speak in an old-fashion way, but really what I’m doing is using words that have always been around but because I use these words it requires the person that I’m talking to, to listen. But then I have to do “active listening” to be sure that I have their questions or inquiry correct and have my reply correct.



I love things that are elegant, I love a more genteel period, even the Victorian period through the 1950’s was that way, but it was still demeaning towards women and in the Victorian period the abject poverty and lack of women’s rights is something I do not forget.



If I am in a dispute, I always work from what I call “a platform of power” which means I make sure I have my facts straight, and if I see the error I will acknowledge it and then work towards having the dispute settled in a way that is happy to both parties.



Have I ever been wrong? Yes on several occasions when the facts were muddled, or because of the way the laws work. But no matter what I document, document, document, and by doing that, as one of my co-workers is so fond of saying “You know how to CYA, so nobody gets around you”.



Do I get angry? Of course I do, but the best thing is to calm down, it could be because of a mis-understanding or mis-communications, by being calm I can resolve things that much sooner.



But what if someone “does me dirt”---well they say “Revenge is a dish best served cold” and I have served a number of cold dishes in my day, but at work as in life, I always remember that life is a chess game, I always have to think 3 to 5 moves ahead of the situation. By doing that one can plan on a contingency.



And I avoid being hysterical, it’s alright to be distressed or frightened or concerned, but being hysterical never solves problems, in that I am almost like Mr. Spock from Star Trek. As a matter of fact I believe in the “Vulcan IDIC”---“Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations” if one looks hard one can find a solution, even if the solution seems non-existent.



At work I tend to be very orderly, and can lay my hand upon any paper as needed, sometimes I find I may have to work later to make sure everything is in place so that I can continue the next day. I’m very fond of post-it notes to let me know what is happening with each stack of paperwork or where I’m at on a project or assignment.



Many of my co-workers say they’ve never have seen such a neat work area, so as a joke I put up a sign in my officer area that says “A Clean Desk is a Sign of a Sick Mind”. Many get the humor.



Some people think I live a romantic life, in many ways it is and has been romantic but there have been “bumps along the road” and tragedies, painful tragedies. I will cover that in another post.



Later Darklings

Of Nail Polish and Costume Jewelry ~~~~

Well Darklings,



I spent my lunch breaks this last week cruising through our local drug and department stores, checking out the various nail polishes available for the holiday season.



Color Therapy has 3 types of gift packages with various nail polishes, some with nail kits and other with lip stick and blushes, a perfect gift idea for those who love make up, but one has to be careful with those friends who have cosmetic allergies.



I’ve been checking out the Holiday Kardashian nail collection and although some of the colors are nice like “Deck the Dolls” the glitter polish does not hold up as well and chips easily, even when I use a clear top coat. I would say its fine for one evening but unless you’re willing to do touch ups, not longer than two days.



Revlon, L’Oreal and other nail companies are coming out with lots of gift packages for the season, perfect if you have friends who are into doing nails as you do. Revlon is experimenting with coming out with a duo set called “Expressions” on side is a small full bottle of polish and the side with a nail polish pen of a complementary color, but if you buy several sets you can have fun experimenting.



In Real Simple magazine I was taken by the intensity of a deep rich plum lipstick combination; the model’s lips were outlined and filled in with a deep berry lip pencil topped with a similarly toned lip gloss--- they used Nars Train bleu velvet Matte Lip Pencil and Christian Dior Ultra Gloss Black-Tie Plum, perfect for the Winter Holidays or to sultry beckoned a lover to his doom.



I’ve found that although the lesser expensive nail polishes by Revlon, L’Oreal, Milani, Remmiel, Sally Hansen are fun, but if I want real quality I go to Estee Lauder, Channel, or Dior, although I do prefer Estee Lauder.



It’s the same thing with Jewelry; I have several real good pieces in gold with flawless jewels but its fun to have fun costume jewelry.



Real Simple magazine also showed some out there wonderful in-your-face jewelry, from aprilsoderstrom.com, urbanoutfitters.com, fantasyjewerlybox.com and accessoryartists.com.



But what really caught my eye was a glass stone cuff in gold plate from Kate Spade katespade.com, deadly, edgy, totally saying I’m the “wicked queen in this room” type attitude; this is one piece of costume jewelry that should be worn by itself as it makes its own statement.



Cocktail rings are a big item statement and I saw a wonderful Swarovski crystal ring that was wicked, swarovski.com



Getting back to nail polish I had to decide on a nail polish that I would wear for this Holiday Season and I found myself gravitating to the Revlon Top Speed nail collection, I already had a green polish “Invitation Only” that I thought was perfect but I found an old standby, “Ignite” a lesser intense Chinese red shimmer that has that soft under glow so perfect for the Holiday season, so testing them both on white heavy cardboard, I was debating which color for my Nails when Doyle popped up and said “Green for the toes, red for the fingers”

And I have to admit Doyle was right, so it is “Ignite” for the Christmas Holidays.



But for New Year’s Eve I’m wearing L’Oreal’s “The Muse’s Attitude” a lovely blue green shimmer that will go well with a vintage evening gown and matching shoes of the same color that I will be wearing when Doyle, dressed as a Navy Lieutenant from World War II and I, dressed as a movie siren will go dancing on the U.S.S. Hornet to welcome in the New Year.



Later Darklings

666 Park Avenue~~~The End???

Oh Darklings,




My heart is broken, 666 Park Avenue, a guilty pleasure of mine, has been cancelled, it seems that it could not come up enough in the ratings to have it continue beyond the initial 13 episode commitment.



And with so many stories and plot lines, and Terry O’Quinn’s character guiding the events like an evil “Daddy Warbucks” (which was the costume character that he was portraying in the Halloween episode) or perhaps a wicked diabolical New York version of “Dallas’s” J.R Ewing. (Although how could anyone top Larry Hageman’s wonderfully villainous portrayal)



I suspect on the fan fiction site there will be people writing their own tie-ins to this series, and it may develop a cult following, perhaps it will be picked up by a cable network, I hope so.



I love how rich, fabulous and evil the place is, The Drake is as much an actor as the people living in it.



But I fear that we will have many story lines dangling. And I just HATE that.



You suspect that the Donovan’s are evil but are they really evil or manipulators are they trying to control what is in the Drake, Olivia’s character loves her daughter, Garvin loves his wife, Jane and Nona’s are children of the Drake, and there are souls trapped in the Drake, as shown by the Starlings birds. You’d think that Garvin is the devil but he is able to enter a church, but a sign on the door of one of the tenants prevents him from entering.



And each of the characters are victims of their own weaknesses and hidden desires. And Victor Shaw was he just as evil or looking for revenge, yet he wanted to take over the Drake, so is the entire plot line about power and controlling the hidden “kundalini energy” that the Drake possesses as signified by the dragon symbol?



Oh questions, questions and more questions. Will we get even hints of what might happen by the 13th episode?



We shall see Darklings, we shall see.



Later

Of Rain Storms, Falling Trees, House Painting and Christmas doings~~~~

Well Darklings,



As I’ve said in an earlier post, I’ve been busy with some Christmas planning.



I know, what is an Elder/Elderly Goth doing Christmas planning, it’s not Gothicky. Well yes and no.



All the Santa Claus and Frosty the Snowman stuff is really is not Gothicky unless you watched the episode of “Castle” on Monday evening (Dec. 3, 2012) someone murdered Santa Claus, but if you read Dickens “A Christmas Carol” that is a very dark Gothic Christmas Story with Scrooges’ “Bah Humbugging” all over the place, but to be visited by Ghosts, including the last one, a very dark and somber presence indeed. Yes Darklings I would be inclined to say that there are old aspects of Christmas that are dark and Gothicky indeed.



The rain storm that we had was heavy, not as heavy as feared but it did do serious damage and some flooding in various areas. I think the most frightening thing is when the ground is so soaked and heavy with water that it just falls away, collapsing road ways, like it did in the Santa Cruz Mountains.



But looking out the front windows at night as the rains fell heavily on the street, lighted by the street lamp; it felt almost gas lit as if I was in Victorian London, faintly hearing the clip-clop of a horse pulling a Hansom Cab.



Its nights like that that I do not want too much electric light on, I want that cozy feeling of a cosseted Victorian parlor.



Ahhh but when looking at the house in the clear light of day one can see that it will need a serious coat of paint come Summer, I could see serious paint flecks being peeled off by the wind and rain.



But what colors to paint it? That is my question. A friend of mine told me that with careful scraping away the layers one can find out what colors were there before and decide which one to go with. That might be the way to go. But my sister suggested that I look at the colors that outline the stain glass windows in the front parlor, entrance hall, Dinning room and Library since they are towards the front of the house. She felt that some how the colors of the house paint would reflect the stain glass windows, I liked that idea, but we’ll know more come summer.



After dropping Coralline off at her parent’s home last Sunday a week ago, Doyle and I leisurely returned to my house, my sister was out of town for the day visiting friends and would not be back until Monday.



While Doyle was driving, the car was filled with Christmas music from a radio station, I was reflecting upon my initial thoughts on buying an artificial tree but instead found myself purchasing green trees instead; the scent of the trees as we were decorating was uplifting upon my soul and in the end I was glad we did not buy a “fake” tree. I decided that I can put up with vacuuming tree needles till next July if it brings that much joy to one’s soul.



For some reason when Doyle and I arrived home we were just a bit too wide awake to go to bed, so we turned to reading our respective books, having a glass of red wine and listening to music on the radio; in the midst of a quiet moment Doyle suddenly stood up, turned down the radio, quickly went to the window and looked out.



He stood there looking out at the street for a minute or so, I watched him puzzled by his actions, but dared not to say anything seeing how intent he was looking out, then I heard a faint sound outside, and was puzzled by what that was.



I saw Doyle’s eyes grow large then he stood back from the window, closing the curtain he turned to me and casually asked “How fond are you of the tree that’s on the verge?” (street side strip of grass between the street and the side walk)



I looked at him with a questioning look for a moment and then said slowly “Well----it’s a nice tree but I’m not attached to it, why do you ask?”



“Well, it just fell over into the street” Doyle replied nonchalantly.



With that response I quickly went to the window, looked out and saw that yes, indeed, the tree which was about 9 or 10 feet tall that reminded me of a mulberry tree, had fallen over into the street, what was so amazing was there were no cars either in front of my home or across the street and it had managed to fall quite cleanly without damaging anything nor breaking any power poles.



It was, however, blocking the entire street, and I knew that some people had to leave very early in the morning and it would have been a bit difficult for them to get by.



Portions of the tree roots were uprooted doing damage to the side walk by lifting up part of the concrete slabs and there was a good size hole in the ground.



Knowing where my gas, water and sewer lines were, I was grateful that they were not near enough to be damaged.



We went outside to survey the uprooted tree by flashlight, street light and rain sprinkles. We could see that the roots were quite “punky” or spongy, they had been rotting for some time although the tree gave every appearance of health, but because they were so spongy and soft they had not the force to do any damage to any utilities but just enough to lift the concrete sidewalk.



Taking in the entire scene, I found myself thanking what higher powers there be that nothing was damaged and no one was hurt, but I did find that I had a slight feeling of loss, I had no idea how long that tree had been in front of my Great-Aunts house, but now the landscape with its demise, had changed.



Doyle went and got an old saw horse from the back yard and put it across the side walk to warn people of the uplifted sidewalk in the dark as we knew there were some late night dog walkers. Then we went inside, not knowing who to call Doyle decided to call the police non-emergency number and informed them of the fallen tree.



While we waited to see if anything would happen, Doyle changed into dry clothes and I made hot herbal tea to warm us up.



An hour later a police car showed up and using its pusher bar moved the tree just enough so cars could get by and the police officer put up warning signs, after that we went to bed only to be awaken at 4 a.m. in the morning with the sound of a chain saw.



A street crew was sawing away the tree and putting the remains in a dump truck and packing away the signs, they moved our saw horse and put one of their signs over the side walk and the hole the tree had left.



I was glad that it had been attended to, but at 4 a.m.?? Well that certainly disturbed my sleep, but Doyle was snoring with a buzz saw sound that could cut through a red wood tree.



On and off during the next day, according to Doyle, people were walking by and gawking at the hole, some came to the house to ask him what had happened. When my sister came home she saw the tree was missing, the gaping hole and street warning saw horses, we told her what had happened.



Young Miranda and her parents, our neighbors, came around just after dinner that evening, asking about the tree and over coffee and hot cider we told them about the event. Miranda’s parents became concerned about the city tree in front of their house and decided to contact the city maintenance department to send someone to check the health of their tree.



Miranda and her parents admired the three trees in the house as well as the vintage ornaments, Miranda discovered that some ornaments were placed inside the trees to make small scenes and using puffs of cotton stretched thin to look like snow and tinsel to make it sparkle, she was enchanted by what she saw.



Connie, Miranda’s Mother, said that she was lucky to be able to get lights up and throw what ornaments she had onto their tree. With a growing boy and his cousins rough housing in the house, more than once their Christmas tree toppled over with a crash.



I told her folks about my niece Coralline and we talked about getting the two girls together for an event or two. So we shall see how this develops. Even though there is a 3 year difference it’s possible that the girls might be compatible, we shall see.



Connie told me privately while we were in the kitchen that her daughter always loved old fashioned things, that a lot of the modern things that most girls her age including Justin Beber was not interesting to her. She had such a great curiosity about my Great Grandmother’s house wanting to know what it looked like on the inside. Connie told me that Miranda was worried that it would be either torn down or made into apartments, given the current housing market.



She was delighted to see how it was being fixed up and the opportunity to come inside to see the interiors, it was better than she expected.



Of course Miranda knows that she has to use the computer and such for school and eventually work, but cell phones with all kinds of apps, were too much for her tastes, she liked simple things, but her parents insisted she have a cell phone for emergencies, so she has one that’s simple and basic.



They had gone to the Dickens Faire this last weekend and enjoyed it very much. I asked Connie if Miranda enjoyed living in a Victorian home and she said that she does and can’t imagine living in anything else, she’s very much a “history buff.” She has an older brother who is in college but doesn’t seem to have the same interest, at least not before he left for college, but he was coming during the Holiday break for a visit, that they were looking forward to.



I told Connie about various re-enactment groups and different docent programs with museums, perhaps they might have something that would interest Miranda. Connie thought that was a wonderful idea, Miranda was so interested in how old-fashioned things worked that would be wonderful for her.



Later my sister and I wondered if that would also work for Coralline, because in many ways the Victorian Era was a very Gothic period of time, Gaslight, Dark Alleys, Horse drawn Handsome cabs, Fog shrouded buildings.

We shall see.



This weekend we have again Coralline, Saturday we went to Dunsmuir House for the tea and were happy to see that Miranda and her Mother had the same tea time, so we shared a table, that gave the girls a chance to get acquainted, then we all toured Dunsmuir house, I was so delighted with how the Foundation restored this elegant home to it’s Victorian grandeur, the girls were just amazed by it, we had a chance to ride a horse drawn carriage around the grounds and the girls were pretending to be princesses, I was fascinated by the history surrounding the house, how it was built and I sensed that in some ways it was built to spite people as well. Then the Hellmann’s purchased it as a home away from home, installing a swimming pool and tennis court.



For some reason I felt that the modern mansions built by our current millionaires or billionaires just does not measure up to the elegance of this house. Its interior and exteriors was featured in two films that I know of “Burnt Offerings” and the James Bond movie “A View to a Kill”.



But the movies do not do it justice to the feel of the place; one would have to come in the Summer during the Gatsby Weekend event to get the true feel of it. But I would love to see it in its natural setting at night, especially a winter night, with the grounds all dark and damp, that feeling that the “Hound of the Baskervilles” may be roaming the land. I get very shivery thinking about that.



Connie suggested that we take the girls to the Oakland Zoo’s Christmas lights that very evening, “get them good and tired” she said. And although chilly as anything it was very beautiful, with all the lighted decorations, the animal displays were not open to the public except for a few indoor ones.



I promised Coralline that we’d come back when the weather was warmer to take in the zoological gardens.



Next Friday evening it will be the Nutcracker Miranda’s parents and I managed to get tickets together so far the girls seem to be getting along. Coralline and Miranda pleaded with us to go back to the Dickens Faire one last time, Connie said that she couldn’t afford another visit but in the spirit of the season I said that I would spring for the tickets for everyone. Connie’s husband Bob would not be able to come as he has to pick up their son at the air port.



So far the girls seem to be enjoying each other’s company despite the 3 year difference, but Coralline has a bit of maturity, and Miranda has the wonderful gift of just loving beauty. And they seem to like the same things, Coralline showed Miranda the pet cemetery and took Miranda around for a more in depth look at things in the house.  I found myself amused when they would come into the Library while I'm writing out bills and balancing my banking accounts, all excited with their discoveries and asking a "ton of questions" (as they describe it).

So putting down my pen and setting aside my paperwork, I would answer their questions about things in my "Cabinet of Curiosities", the pet cemetery, strange old things in the attic or basement, and various things around the house.   One thing that has them puzzled is the stain glass windows in the dinning room, each of them has a different statement.  In going over the various repair bills and purchases done long ago by my Great-Aunt, I discovered that she had them specially made, I can only surmise that she had gone, many years ago on a tour of the old Winchester Mystery House and became fascinated with the stain glass windows there.

One reads "Fast unclasp the tables of my thoughts"  the other reads "These same thoughts people this little world"   The girls asked me what do they mean, I told them they need to read the two windows as if they were one sentence and then then will understand the meaning.

Both of them asked me why do I dress the way I do and wear my hair the way I do.  I told them that I would be happy to answer those questions but at another time, if they can wait, which they promised.

I asked Connie about her thoughts on the girls and she admitted that Miranda was socially awkward around older girls and boys, and just a little immature, but her grades like Corallines are excellent. She told me that sometimes according to her information and observation, some children mature a little later than others, but she exceeds her education level, so she’s in advance classes like Coralline but not quite so accelerated. And she prefers to come home and study, she takes ballet classes but informed her mother and the teacher that she does not want to do recitals.

I thought that was strange but Connie told me that performing in front of a group stresses Miranda, if it’s for a class assignment she’ll do it and she’s fine when interacting with people and children her own age but when the conversation among her peer group turns to things that teenagers talk about like whom they adore Miranda becomes shy. Although she has a “crush” on one of the Twilight hero’s.

And both Miranda’s and Coralline’s sense of things Victorian, dark, Gothicky and mysterious are quiet prevalent not in a harmful way but just enough to be a bit “Addams Family” with a sense of fun.

My Sister, Connie and I will see how this develops.

I'm also going to post one or two more postings this morning that I had been planning to post, but have been too busy to.

Today we are going to take it a little easy, Coralline has homework that must be done and Miranda asked if she could come over today to do her homework as well.  Connie had no objections since she has to do things around the house.  So a relaxing Sunday for us I think.

Later Darklings.

Of Live Theater, Children's Charities and an update~~~

Hello My Darklings,

I've been having a very busy week, this evening Coralline and I had a chance to see "A Christmas Carol",  we were both moved when Scrooge gained the Christmas spirit, after being visited by the Spirits.

All the way home Coralline could not stop talking about the play.  The way she talked about it reminded me of when I saw my first opera and my first Shakespeare play, the opera was "I Pagliacci"  and the play was "King Lear", the power of live theater is so immediate and if done right so affecting upon the senses and the soul.

I let her talk and talk, listening to hear her thoughts on what she had seen.

When we got home I settled her down with a cup of hot coco, it was especially chilly this evening.

She finally fell asleep, with the promise that we will be going to the Children's tea and tour Dunsmuir House tomorrow.

It's interesting to see how through her eyes re-discovering the joys of being a young person.   I wish all young children had this opportunity.  It makes me sad that so many do not. 

That is why I will be looking into charities that help young children to make donations to, such as "St. Jude Hospital", "Make A Wish", "Salvation Army", and several food kitchens that feed the needy.   Doyle reminded me of our local Animal Shelter as well.

I have many other postings to put up all saved on my flash drive, which I will post tomorrow.  

Later Darklings

Christmas Season is upon us~~~"Stir up we beeche Thee..."

Well Darklings the Christmas Season is upon us.




Here is where I as an Elder/Elderly Goth must stand her ground.



I do recognize this time of year as a Holiday Season where several ceremonies of light occur, if one is Pagan then it is Yule, the time of the year when darkness is at its greatest, where all things dark and despairing fly and reek havoc upon body and soul, and then bonfires must be lit to dispel the darkness and bring back the light.



If one is Jewish then this is the season of lights when the great temple was defiled but regained by the Hebrew people who cleansed the temple but found that they only had enough holy oil for the lamp for one night, but used it anyway and much to their surprised the lamp burned for 8 nights instead of one, a sign of a Great and Holy presence.



If one is Christian then this is the time of year when all is dark and a displaced family must try and find shelter for the woman is about to give birth and all they could find was a stable because there was no room in the inn (there’s a certain amount of symbolism here my Darklings), but in that lowly stable a great light came into the world to give hope. That old Christmas Carol “Silent Night” in the last verse says it very purely “…Love’s Pure Light…”



There are other religious beliefs that also either around this time of year or near to it, celebrate a season of lights for the same reason.



But Doyle takes it one step further and I won’t argue with him on this because in many ways I felt the same----Doyle says “for all you atheists—you can stay in the dark”.



For as an Elder/Elderly Goth that is part of the beauty of Darkness, the light that shines within, as the old saying goes “it is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness”, as an Elder/Elderly Goth we look into the darkness with eyes to see in the dark, blazing to find the beauty and the truth, and yes, even if we cloak it with fantasy, we never leave the reality of life.



We know that Santa Claus is a legend, but we will not dispel a small child’s belief in that ‘spirit’ of unselfish giving, we are not sure about when Jesus was born but we will not dispel the simplicity and sense of hope in the Christmas Story.



Just recently a New York City police officer saw a homeless man who had no shoes, the homeless man may be mentally incapacitated but the police officer saw he had blisters on his feet, in stead of rousting him to move on, he went and with his own money bought all weather boots, and thermal socks, when he went into the store to buy the boots and told the sales staff what he was going to do, they gave him the employees discount, and he went back to the man put the socks and boots on the man’s feet, did he expect anything?



No, he did what he felt was right, he could not pass this man by, and like the good Samaritan, did it because it was right, he saw the darkness and put beauty into it.

His simple act of kindness was captured by a tourist and it went viral, this officer is an example of what anyone working and living in a dark Gothic environment can do. This is the true spirit of the Christmas Season and for all year round. The officer says he keeps that receipt for those boots with him as a reminder, “what good you can do, do it now, for you may not have that same chance again”.



And that is also what being an Elder/Elderly Goth is all about during this time of year, seeing into the darkness a shining a light.



When I and my sister were little there was an elderly lady by the name of Renee, Mrs. Renee, and she told marvelous stories, legends, folk tales, fairy tales and ghost stories of all kinds and she’d give various characters voices, and acted it out.



When Mother and Dad wanted a little alone time or had to go somewhere Mrs. Renee would baby sit us girls, while Grandma would take care of our brother because he was just a baby. Especially at Christmas time it would be wonderful to be at Mrs. Renee’s home, which we called the Mansion, her house seems to be always filled with a warm gold color at winter time I really don’t know how she did it, and it always smelled of spices like nutmeg, cinnamon, vanilla, and other wonderful exotic scents.



She would baby sit for various families and we loved going to her house, but the stories, oh the stories. She would have a fire going in the fire place, and light candles in glass containers, some in gold and some in ruby, the electric light would be turned off and she’d tell us these wonderful stories.



But wintertime she’d tell us of Hern the Hunter and the wild hunt and how the unjust would be punished if found at midnight on Christmas Eve if they were found by Hern, although later I’ve found other variations of the legend.



But she’d also would tell us the Christmas Story starting with the words “Once upon a time in David’s Royal City….”



I’ve found that if the rains come with wild winds during the Christmas season I’d be reminded of Hern and on Christmas Eve I’d hear Mrs. Renee’s voice saying softly “Once upon a time in David’s Royal City…”



And once again I am a child of 8 or 9 enjoying the fantasy and magic of Christmas with it’s legends and ghosts, and being Catholic doing the ritual of the Advent wreath, I have for Coralline an Advent Calendar, her parents are Catholic (sort of) they do go to church unless there is a game their boys have to be at, but my Sister and I want Coralline to experience the fun, joy and mystical ritual wonder of the season. From “Stir Up Sunday” which is the Sunday of the Advent season to Epiphany or Three Kings Day.



I and my sister always remember how Mother would have Dad bring down the Christmas decorations and go through everything to plan on the Christmas dinner.



Among the Christmas decorations my sister found the frame for the Advent wreath, and managed to buy the candles to go with it, so with some decorations from a Hobby shop she re-decorated it and we will light it saying “Stir Up, oh Lord, Thy Might, we beg thee and come, that by Thy protection we be rescued from the threatening dangers and saved by Thy deliverance.”



There is something about the ritual of the Advent wreath that stirs within an Elder/Elderly Goth’s soul, to give strength for the year of the trials to come and to continue to live the life we want to live.



Now back to current reality~~~~



Doyle surprised Coralline and I Friday afternoon by calling to say he would pick us up at my work, no taking public transportation in this rain he says. And where does he take us?



To a Christmas Tree Lot---and not just any Christmas Tree Lot----one that is run by one of the nearby churches as a fund raiser for their child care programs for single mother’s who have to work. And it was a good thing it was still day light in spite of the rain, Doyle insisted we buy two real trees, one for the Family Parlor and one for the Formal Parlor, I wasn’t going to argue.



But there was something, the smell of the trees, the careful assessment of which one’s would fit the spots in the home, determining the size of their trunk ends to fit into the water holders, then the purchase and bundling and tying down on the top of the van (Doyle came prepared).



But we could not leave just yet.



Coralline spotted a small, tiny Christmas tree, a very small, tiny Christmas tree.



She asked me what happens to cut trees after Christmas, I told her that we plan on having the Boy Scout’s do a pick up and then the trees are made into mulch to help other plants grow. That way the trees are never wasted, but are re-cycled.



She wanted the tiny Christmas Tree. She thought it would look nice in the entrance hall when people came into the house. I thought about how it would be mounted and where it would be placed and remembered an old small battered table in the basement which could be covered with a nice cloth and also remembered these things called “frogs” to hold woody type flowers and plants in an arrangement so it could be kept watered.



We bought the tiny tree.



So Friday evening was spent setting up the trees, with Doyle outside cutting the bottoms so the trees could get fresh water, and us vacuuming and sweeping the needles and moving things around.



Saturday we went to buy new lights for the trees and strung them up, later we went to the Tree Lighting ceremony at a local community, enjoying the entertainment and listening to the words officials had to say, watching the skaters on the portable ice rink, and getting a bit to eat at one of the local eateries, and just enjoying ourselves in general.



Today is being spent putting up the decorations, and staying warm, Belladonna has decided to camp on one of the overstuffed chairs and stay out of the way.



It’s already wonderful seeing all the old-fashioned decorations going up, I was glad that I managed to get more decorations, Coralline and my sister and I are having fun and I’m glad I managed to get the bulk of this typed the night before and save to a flash drive to post this morning.



Seeing the red, greens and gold’s shimmering in the lights brings a smile to my face and tons of memories of Family Christmases gone by, Coralline is building up her own special memories. She hugged my sister, Doyle and I last night for making this so special.



Later Darklings