MY FIRST CAR EVER....

I never got a car as a teenager, but I was able to use the family’s

1957 DeSoto and later the 1964 Pontiac Tempest..

When I left home in 1971 until I got married in l983 I did not own

a car.. I used a bicycle or the bus or relied on the kindness of strangers to

get me around the vast area of Los Angeles..

When we got married, my husband bought a l966 Volvo Station Wagon,

stick shift which I couldn’t drive...so still no wheels.

Then we got a different Volvo Wagon, automatic so I could drive

whenever he wasn’t using it.

It blew up in New Mexico on a road trip.

Volvo Wagon #3 entered the picture.  Then #4, our

current car...

BUT THIS LITTLE CREAMPUFF IS MINE!

on June 1st. 2010 I finally got my first car.

YOU’VE COME A LONG WAY BABY...

LT. COLONEL Henry J. Wolff USAF

A HERO FOR HIS COUNTRY..

I LOVE AND  MISS YOU PAPA..

THINKING OF YOU TODAY

AND EVERYDAY.....

      

THE BIGGEST BLIZZARD...PART 8

So now I needed a plan.  I had to find a way to stay in Arizona.  It wasn’t going to be easy.  My brother’s roomate would be back soon and I’d have to vacate his bedroom.  I couldn’t stay there in his house.  I would have to find a job, find a place to live and then convince my parents that I was going to stay.  My brother said I could enroll in college myself and maybe that would make it easier on my parents.  He took me  to the administration building to get the paper work.  I would have to send away to get high school transcripts and then decide on what courses I would take.   But then the biggest hurdle of them all.  money.  and lots of it.  and I had none.  and I knew my parents didn’t have it and even if they did they would not give it to me to be so far away from them.  The thought of me going to college never crossed their minds.  It never crossed my mind either.   Going to college was for rich kids, not kids like us.  I could get a student loan but they would never sign for it.  The more I thought about going to school, the less I liked the idea.   Go for what?  I had no ambitions.  I had no idea at all what I wanted to be or wanted to do or what I could do.  I never even thought about it.  I was never asked about it. I’d get married.  I’d work in a factory.  I’d have kids...simple story...simple plan.  What was good enough for them was good enough for me.  What does happiness have to do with it.  We’re not happy, why should you be happy..Accept your lot in life.  But then I saw life outside our little town and I saw that other people could be happy.  and so  I needed a plan.  A plan that would allow me to stay.
I needed to stay in Arizona.  I needed to be free.  but then, the phone call came.  The phone call that put a stop to any plan.  The phone call that put a stop to any idea I had or hoped to have and that phone call stopped me dead in my tracks and tore out from under me the very foundation however weak that was beneath me.  The call came from my father on that sultry hot summer night.   My mother was in the hospital.  She had overdose on barbiturates and was in intensive care in the Psychiatric ward.  My father told me that she just could’t take me leaving and not planning on coming home so she took a bunch of pills and he found her unconscious on the floor.  He was sending me money to fly home and I was to get on the next plane out of Phoenix or he was going to get the police to come after me.   The blood drained from my head.  the pain rose up in my stomach. the hollowness collected in my throat.  My plan was over.  my freedom was over. And my mother laid in a hospital bed and I had been the one who put her there.

  The hippie kids piled in the VW van that took me to the airport and to the plane that took me back home. My father was waiting at the gate for me and we drove the long silent ride home through the farmland and the red barns that dotted the landscape.  We drove straight to the hospital and went to the bottom floor of the same brick building where I was born. My mother laid weak and pale in the bed but she was alive and she was going to be okay but had to stay in the ward for observation and because it was an attempted suicide she would have to undergo treatment for a few weeks.  The days were long and painful for us all...I had an overwhelming sense of guilt.  The shame I felt was almost unbearable for me.  Then I had to take over at home to wash clothes and give my father his meals and keep the house clean.  Also to lie to the neighbors and make up stories of where my mother was as if they didn’t know the truth.  I had to go see the parish priest and he told me I had to take care of my mother and honor my mother and I was lucky that she didn’t die or I would have had a death on my conscience.  She was going through withdrawals at the hospital so she was always sedated.  They wanted to give her shock treatments but my father refused.  The recovery was slow but she was eventually allowed to come home.  I gladly took care of her.  I loved her.  I wanted her back home and I wanted to be the dutiful daughter I should have been.           and so I was.        and I got a job  at  a  factory  that  made  socks  driving  a forklift    truck.       9-5      doing     the    same    thing         over    and      over   and    over      again.
I didn’t like it very much but I didn’t know how to do anything, I wasn’t trained for anything and without any guidance or help I didn’t know there were other things out there.  I was a girl that was unprepared for life and unprepared for a future.   and so I stayed.  and did what I was told.  and was happy that at least my mother survived.  and so I stayed numb.  and worked at a job I detested.  and when the day was over, I stayed in my room and Neil Young helped me through and Joni Mitchell helped me through.   and I dreamed for something better.   but i didn’t expect anything more than what
I was handed  my lot in life in the small midwestern town where the lake breezes softly blew through those green elm trees, and the train whistles blowing in the distance meant better things for some but not for me.  and my dreams died in that house.  but i did as I was meant to, and what was expected of me
and nothing more.   and the light in my eyes dimmed.  and I soon forgot that western sky and those terra cotta colored hills and the smell of pinon pines and the laughter and that sweet taste of freedom that had so briefly passed through my life.   And I carried on that way for over a year. In a numbing job with no future. in a little bedroom in my parents stifling house where the atmosphere depended on my mothers moods  and I’d go to the teen bars with some girlfriends and drank too many Champales and  got sick and passed out and it was a way to survive the pain and the boredom and the loneliness because I was alone and no one cared for me. my parents did love me. they did care about me.  but that is not the
love I needed and wanted.     and then I met a boy.     The boy.

WHERE I SELL: WERTZ BROTHERS ANTIQUE MARKET

I have had some requests to see Wertz Brothers

the wonderful antique market in Santa Monica, California

where I have had the pleasure of being a part of for 12 years.

You can find all manner of wonderful merchandise here.

excuse me!

A COUPLE OF REAL BAD BOYS!

and here is....


a view of my space
# 212

these are the great concrete and plaster dogs that I found last week.

another dealers beautiful space...
chippy, sparkling, gorgeousness..

This is one of the prettiest spaces in the mall

This dealer told me that she goes to Roundtop, Texas

every year to bring back some of this quality merchandise...

dreamy whites

curious oddities....

Another fine looking space.

Another dealers great space.

A great eye for finding just the right 

merchandise is the hallmark of the dealers in this mall and it is what makes 

being in here extra special...

The waiting list to sell here is long...You have to sell the

right quality and keep the tone of the place to a certain standard...

not only do they buy right, they know how important

a beautiful display is...

I started selling antiques in 1989...It all began when I realized that I had

too much stuff and  I needed to get rid of some things , so I thought I would get a space

at a little local elementary school flea market.  I did so well that first day that I formulated a plan in which 

I would shop and buy stuff that I didn't plan on keeping for myself.   I booked a space for the following 

month and the same thing happened.  People were gathered around  me as I 

pulled stuff out of my station wagon.   I thought, hmmm... maybe I could  make a

living doing this.   So I sold at Flea Markets in the LA area for awhile until a friend of

mine asked  me to share a space at this very mall...We are still partners here.

  It sure beats hauling stuff to a flea market every month.  

Selling here is a pleasure.  We get a lot of celebrities

and star decorators coming in.  They know that the

place will deliver the goods.  We also get a lot

of movie people looking for props.  I have seen some

of my things in movies and magazine layouts.

That is just one of the percs of doing business in Los Angeles.

AND THE WINNER IS...

all of the entries...

were put into the hat..

and the name that was pulled out...

 SAMGRAM OF 8   

SO SEND ME YOUR MAILING ADDRESS AND 

YOUR CHOICE OF WHAT NECKLACE YOU WANT.

CONGRADULATIONS!!!!

BUT WAIT....

THERE'S MORE....

BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO NECKLACES,

 I PULLED OUT ANOTHER NAME...

KATIE..  OF   SHARING OUR SPACES.....SEND ME YOUR ADDRESS AND YOU

GET NECKLACE NUMBER TWO...

IT HAS BEEN SUCH A FUN WEEK FOR ME...THANK YOU SO

VERY MUCH FOR YOUR PART IN IT....NOW THAT YOU ARE

FOLLOWERS, CHECK IN FROM TIME TO TIME...DON'T BE

A STRANGER, I WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU ALL.

AND AGAIN TO THE "OLD TIMERS"   THANKS A MILLION

YOU HAVE BEEN SO KIND AND WONDERFUL...

BEATNHEART

VISIT "BEATNHEART BOUTIQUE, JUST NEXT DOOR...

I HAVE ONE MORE BEE NECKLACE LEFT AND CAN

MAKE ONE MORE ART NOUVEAU NECKLACE...

MY FIRST GIVEAWAY.....

I'm just about to reach 50 visitors so to celebrate that occasion and to give something back to all my wonderful new friends, I am having a giveaway...The winner will get the above necklace, a vintage black glass bead rosary, with a silver-plate Art Nouveau style Focal piece with a swarvoski crystal drop...


                                                                           OR....

This necklace has a brass bee focal and aventurine beads with tiny

Czech seed beads...Finished with brass chain and lobster claw clasp.

YOU GET TO CHOOSE... I WANT YOU TO LIKE WHAT YOU WIN!!

   What do you have to do?  Leave a comment for one vote, become a follower or already be a follower gets two votes, post the giveaway on your blog and you get another chance to win....  I'll keep this up for one week with the winner announced on May 14th...
GOOD LUCK AND THANKS SO MUCH TO ALL OF YOU....YOU HAVE GIVEN ME SO MUCH !!!  CYNTHIA

YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT TONIGHT CALIFORNIA TIME....THEN I PUT ALL YOUR NAMES  IN MY BOWLER HAT AND PICK OUT THE WINNER....THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR DELIGHTFUL AND SUPPORTIVE COMMENTS.

THE BIGGEST BLIZZARD IN THE LAST 20 YEARS...CHAPTER ONE-PART SEVEN

 This wonderful new life in Arizona drifted by in soft, stress free days and nights.  Always something to do.  Always something new to see. This pinon pine scented town with the glorious snow covered even in summer San Francisco peaks in the distance had grabbed me and didn't want to let me go.   The Grand Canyon was a stone's throw away.  The Petrified Forest.  Sedona.  And these lively college students were always doing something.  And going somewhere.  And the back of those VW vans were filled to the brim with these happy, laughing teenagers ready and willing to find the next adventure.  And they were from all over the country.  All over the world!   San Francisco.  New York City.   Seattle.  India! .   A black one.  A brown one.  A gay one.  All I ever knew were people from my own home town.  White people. Straight.  Catholic or Protestant.  No one came from anywhere else.  Born and raised in our little city.  Lived and died there.  Didn't go anywhere or see anything or do anything out of the ordinary.  The only people going somewhere were the young boys that  were going to Vietnam.  but some of them never did come back.  They came home zipped up in plastic bags.  eighteen, nineteen, twenty year old boys whose only venture out of our little town was a swampy, smoky hell hole that they wished they never layed eyes on but they had no choice.  Their number was called and they were gone and the mothers wept and the fathers tried to be brave and say it was for the good of the country but we all had our doubts because what good would this do for us and what good would this do for anyone.   My brother was one of the lucky ones.  His asthma kept him home. He wanted to go cause his buddies were going and it seemed like the right thing to do if you didn't know any better and at least it got you away from home and the dull, boring factory that was looming in the distance if that was all they said you were good for.  if you weren't smart enough or had enough money or your parents didn't push you or encourage you to do or be anything else.  Because the factory was good enough for us so why wouldn't it be good enough for you.  Why be anything more or achieve anything more because who do you think you are one of the Kohler kids?    So my brother got smart... He wasn't pushed to go to college.  He didn't have the grades for college.  He didn't have the money for college.  But he did his homework and found a college that would take him and off he went when I was a Sophomore in high school.   And then he came back and got me because I was factory bound as I knew nothing else and I too wasn't encouraged for anything else and maybe I'd get married and have kids and my husband would support me or maybe I'd get that factory job and just live at home and take care of my mother which was how it was suppose to go.  But my brother came and he got me out because he knew I deserved more than this and he wanted to show me that there was more out there and if I wanted it I could have it and  if I wanted more it was there for  me and if he could do it so could I...

   I was born again in Arizona and my soul  rose out of that murky dark spot inside of me and no one was going to make me leave it and I would find a way to stay cause not for one single second was I going back to that hell hole that was my life now that my spirit was illuminated by this new found freedom
and no way was I going to live and die in the same place and marry someone that I didn't love just to get
out of the house and have children I couldn't take care of cause I couldn't even take care of myself...I was prepared for nothing.  I only knew how to dodge the bullets that were verbal and abusive and maybe not
the bullets of Vietnam but  bullets just the same and when my number was called I dodged and I ran and I kept running and no one was going to stop me now.   Because when you taste freedom it is the most delectable thing and the thing you want more than you even knew you wanted and once you tasted it there was  no turning back.  So I decided to stay in Flagstaff.  And I dropped a dime with trembling fingers into the payphone slot and I reversed the charges and I called my parents.   and I told them I was not coming home.  and they told me not over their dead bodies.  and i hung up the phone.  and i walked away from that phone booth.   and they were not going to get me back.  not over my dead body cause i would rather be dead then go back to that hell hole of a house and the anger that lived there.  and the fear that lived there. and the no hope and no future and no promise of better things to come.  and so I walked away from that phone and i walked away from them  because the softness and the tranquility and the pinon pine scented mountain top town was where i wanted to be and that is where i was going to stay.

Beatnheart goes to Mrs. Tiggy Winkles...

With Riverside, Calilfornia still on my mind, I

would like to show you a really cool shop that

is located right across the promenade from The Misson Inn.

It is called "Mrs. Tiggy Winkles"....Now normally alot

of these kind of shops are too frou-frou and frilly for me,

with alot of not so great merchandise...This place however is an exception.

This is the proprietor of the shop, CeeAnn Thiel...

She is one heck of a groovy chick with exceptional taste

and a great eye for cool stuff... She was friendly and willing

to share.  It was like visiting a friends house..In fact

 I was ready to go home with her afterwards and carry

on the party...

Beautiful stuff in every corner...The layout and displays are

really creative... She shops all over the place and knows

where to get the best......  This shop has it all..

Great soaps, candles, an outrageous selection of cards

that are unique and so different from anything else out there.

I loved just about everything in here!

Alot of the merc was displayed in Antique shelves

or buffets...I wanted that stuff too!

Little vignettes everywhere.  English husband even bought 

something!!  Usually he doesn't even go into shops that

look girly... He bought one of these bird pictures that 

are mounted on glass.  CeeAnn seems wilingly to

buy things from vendors who make handmade and

unusual items... 

More cool bird stuff..

An Asian themed section...

One storefront couldn't contain all this great stuff,

so she got the shop next door too...

So when you make that trip to The Misson Inn, be sure to visit this shop

3675 Main Street

Riverside, California 92501