Some of you might have been wondering why I posted a Discover Columbus post on what I called Columbus Day back on October 12, 2020. One of the Sidetracked Sisters brought to my attention that the celebration of this day has become “Indigenous People’s Day. I knew that at some level. Unfortunately, not in time to make this post “Politically Correct”.
It seems that Columbus was an adventurer and explorer but as we are now aware, he wasn’t a very nice guy. Some called him a Barbarian and a mercenary. Knowing the truth, we now celebrate a day in honor of Native Indigenous Americans in opposition to the celebration of Columbus Day. Governor Tony Evers established Indigenous Peoples Day via an executive order days before the observance in 2017.
Today we celebrate the people who first called this land home. We remember the struggles and tragedies they endured. We honor their place in and contributions to the shared story of America.
In correcting my mistake, I realize that this change is not just to be PC. In reality, it is doing the right thing for all the right reasons. It is deserved and long overdue.
Three-year-old me ran up the steps and found a seat for us near the front of the bus. Most of the people that rode the bus back in the day knew each other. This day there was a man that was unfamiliar. Something was a bit different about him. I tried to whisper to Mom but my voice came out a bit loud. I asked how come that man had such a dirty face. She shushed me but too late. The man had heard my question. He told me that his skin was a different color than mine. I asked him why and he answered that he was born that way. He asked Mom if I wanted to touch his skin. She quietly declined and I climbed up in her lap.
Bra shopping is an event that comes along very rarely in my life. Several years ago, I found a bra that fit well and I keep buying the same make and model over and over in different colors but mostly flesh color. I know, boring.
What is something I love about me? And Why? Good grief. When someone asks me a question like this, my first response is “I have absolutely no idea”. Then when I get quiet and dig deeper, I find a thing or two.
When I was a little girl, I always felt like I didn’t have any friends. I was raised in a neighborhood of all boys. Play revolved around playing cowboys and Indians and other games that involved me being the only girl. I must say since I was the only one with cowboy boots and a holster set, I often played a lead role. I would pretend to be Roy Rogers or The Lone Ranger. Most of the boys were younger and smaller than I was so they didn’t argue with me. They followed my lead.
“Have you heard the one about…?” You hear that phrase as someone passes and if you’re like me, you want to hear the rest of the story, all the way to the punch line.
Attempt #1
I resisted having a cell phone for years. The thought of having a phone “on me” all the time gave me the creeps. Then I took a job out of town that took me away from home at all different hours and in all different seasons, rain and snow and I gave in. 
