My kids need a DNA test

I really think two of my four kids, adult kids now, aren't mine. They don't like to dance and so I'm having them tested! My youngest who is 22, gets this scrunched up face when I come near him and grab his hand and dance around him. Poor guy he hasn't any rhythm anyway. The other non-dancer is my oldest daughter. Both real duds in the dance area but they are sweethearts in other ways. Two out of four not too bad. My real dancing partner is my oldest, but he's up in Oakland and has a serious girlfriend that is his dancing partner so I don't get to dance with him too often. So I guess my real dance partner is myself. That's a good thing because I don't have to worry about who's going to lead. The two dud dancers take after my husband. I dance around him too, holding his hand and making all my moves around him. He's fine just watching and laughing at me. My other dancer is my youngest daughter, but she has a live-in boyfriend so I don't get to dance too much with her either. Funny how we all get divied up as far as what we do and how we act. Two boys, two girls. Two emotional, two hold it all in. Two in relationships, two single. Two college educated, two anti-college. Two non-dancers, two dancers. Four kids that are definitely 100% ours. Six different but loving family members listening to the same music.

Lemons not always equal to Lemonade

Okay, so I was thinking this morning about that phrase; When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Well, that works only if the lemons are good aka not rotten. I mean who wants to drink lemonade that's been made with bad lemons. And then you have to make sure you have good water and some kind of sweetener. So anyone could make lemonade from good lemons but making good lemonade from bad lemons is another matter all together. I say sometimes you have to throw out the whole batch of lemons and go check out the raspberry bush and see if you can make jam!

Maternal Family~

The Loya family in Chihuahua, Mexico abt. 1877







The Peinado Siblings~ Los Angeles, California~ 1920s

For Patrick

The lights went up in the night sky,
But on your sorrow was the only illumination.
Everyone, everything in order.
What came first.
Who came next.
You always placed yourself last.
Oh the nightmares that you must have viewed.
They soon became your own desperation
And added to the tossing and turning of your life.
But they made those heart touched moments
All the more special.
The waving of my hand will never take place
Only the remembrance of your slipped in embrace
And the smile shining from your eyes.

October 23, 2003

Little girl on the screen playing a scene - never the one in my life.
Anger. Frustration. Not towards a father that was not there,
But angry about not being able to remember -
Not one time, that my father took me to the park.
I know he did - I've seen the photograph.
I can't find it.
Maybe the photograph and the memory are keeping each other company
Somewhere.

Eclipsing Heart
Rebecca C. Campos

What is the shredding of this heart all about?
Your cradling arms have morphed into dagger held hands
And I can’t see your face anymore
Shadowed it is
An eclipse of glaring doubts, silent schemes, and hard fists
of faux love has slowly taken over.

I strain to hear your cuddle down voice filtered still through
lips of genuine comfort
But solely present are resounding waves of resentment
misdirected and packaged without attention
to the delivered casualties.

Where is the light that made my soul want you and altered every cell
and caused me to grow even now
That instructed me through times of beat-downs, exposed icy nakedness, and into-the-night rocking and weeping?

Come out from behind that shadowed mask
My heart will recover along side with yours
Be the guardian angel, the mother lioness, the woman warrior
that you know you are
And laugh at the fear that invites you in and convinces you
that you deserve to die cold and alone.

Life on Olympic Boulevard

Rebecca C. Campos LIFE ON OLYMPIC BOULEVARD


I am crying again driving down Olympic Blvd.
I am passing the faded stucco duplex and forcing myself to turn
and acknowledge the smiling children at play.
I am recognizing the overgrown sycamore,
my mother’s sole protector from a madman.
I am noticing stuck-up Rosemary’s house now has
imposing apartment units propped up in the front yard.
I am wondering if our bedroom window still contains nails
of crucifixion penetrating its frame.
I am stopping at the corner where the only source of compassion
appeared as a smile on a gas station attendant’s face.
I am venturing down the trash laden alley.
I am cringing as the garage comes into view.
I am asking if any other little girls had to
sleep in their garage and pee on the dark damp floor.
I am reliving the nightmares of my childhood.
I am willing to make them mine.
I am exiting the alley, the house, the street.
I am leaving it all behind.
I am moving forward, toward a string of green lights up ahead.

Just finished reading . . .

a book my sister lent me- The Undomestic Goddess, by Sophie Kinsella. Fast, fun read. Makes you question how crazy and hurried you've let your own life get. It went right along with my new, actually renewed desire to live more of a country life as oppossed to a city life. Hence, the clothes line and screen door on my Christmas list. Mimbres Valley, New Mexico

Work I'm avoiding

I really should be, uh let's see, striping the 2o+ year old paint (lead based) off the hallway trim or doing the wash (running low on underwear!) or cutting down the crazy spider infested (can it really be called infested if it's just a really convienent home for a bizillion neiborhood spiders?) verbena so we could put up a new fence. But, I'm here instead starting up my first blog. MySpace doesn't really count because I didn't ever put the real me out there. It was just a way to spy on my kids and stay in touch with my nephews when they were in the war. Here is going to be pure honesty. That's the plan anyway. Sharing is a good thing. Right? Maybe it's just that I want to share with myself and having somewhere and some time set aside to do just that will help me to actually spend some time for doing that. I tend to avoid myself at times. Here I go.