BORROWED POEM

Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
enough money within her control to move

rent a place of her own,

even if she never wants to or needs to...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
something perfect to wear if the employer,

or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
a youth she's content to leave behind....

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to

retelling it in her old age...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .....
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
one friend who always makes her laugh...

and one who lets her cry..

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal,

that will make her guests feel honored...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a feeling of control over her destiny..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to fall in love without losing herself..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to quit a job,break up with a lover,

and confront a friend without;

ruining the friendship...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
when to try harder...

and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that she can't change the length of her calves,

the width of her hips,

or the nature of her parents..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that her childhood may not have been perfect...

but its over...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..
what she would and wouldn't do for love or more...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to live alone...

even if she doesn't like it...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.. ..
whom she can trust,

whom she can't,

and why she shouldn't take it personally...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
where to go...

be it to her best friend's kitchen table..

or a charming inn in the woods...

when her soul needs soothing...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she can and can't accomplish in a day...

a month...

and a year...

This lovely work was written by:Pamela Redmond Satranhttp://www.pamelaredmondsatran.com/articles.php
See an article Pamela wrote on the Huffington Post about this subject.
Author Pam Satran

THANKSGIVING REPEAT POST

Happy Thanksgiving y'all. Today's pretty busy here at work, so I'm gonna repeat one of my favorite posts. I know most of y'all have already read this, but it fits right in with the giving thanks theme.

WHERE I'M FROM
I'm from home-made dresses sewn on Mom's Singer sewing machine with loving hands, patched jeans, bare feet and cousin's hand-me-downs.

I'm from white frame houses beside sway-backed barns on dusty back roads, party lines, baths in a #10 wash tub set in the kitchen floor and window fans stirring humid summer air while little girls turn a TV antenna trying to locate one of the three local stations

I'm from spring-fed creeks, hills and hollers veiled with woods, Tarzan vines and wild flowers; rural mysteries, dreams and adventures just waiting to be found.

I'm from Grady and Elsie, Don and Byrd, Wayne and Ruth; hard headed, hard working, hard loving people who raised 5 girls with whippings and hugs dealt out in equal measure.

I'm from an Amazon tribe of 5 sisters who fought and scratched and battled each other but presented a united front to any outsider who dared to cross one of us.

I'm from dancing for joy under an outdoor shower made from an old bucket full of holes, hung overhead and the water hose stuffed in it; tire swings and tree houses and camping under the stars.

I'm from Baptists with creek-side dunkings and Church of Christs who claim to be "the only ones"; purple Kool-Aid and cookies at Vacation Bible School and pictures made of glued-on pasta in Sunday School.

I'm from Moulton on the edge of Bankhead Forest in the north of Alabama, with the blood of Cherokee Nations, Black Dutch, Germans, Irish Immigrants, and Mayflower Pilgrims running through my veins.

I'm from sweet tea, corn bread with real butter, mac and cheese, peach cobbler and fresh garden vegetables raised in the back yard along with banana kisses, Vienna sausages and Mountain Dews devoured at Bass's service station.

I'm from Teresa who threw a match in gas and lived to tell about it, Tina with the red-headed temper, Donna, my sidekick who always followed me and Karen around and Lana who'll always be "PeeWee" to the rest of us.

I'm from Dad who quit school in the 6th grade and got an education in the air force and Mom, who met him on a blind-date and eloped with him 10 days later; a True Romance story for the ages.

I'm from goofy school photos featuring missing teeth and messy hair, candid snapshots made with an old Brownie camera showing little girls with skinny legs and big smiles, all stuffed out of sight in drawers and closets and the bench of Mom's old piano.

I'm from a wild neighborhood posse of boys and girls who roamed for miles on horseback, getting drunk on vodka bought from the local bootlegger & paid for by picking up drink bottles from the side of the road, teaching each other how to kiss, scaring each other to death with seances and graveyard stories, fighting with and for each other all through childhood.

I'm from The South with our slow talking, sweet sounding accents, folks who are so friendly we'll speak and wave at friends or strangers, where everyone's raised to have manners and use them--even on those that don't deserve to be Sir'ed and Mam'ed.