Hello Everyone,

October 2015

I love October, not just because it is my birthday month but because the air changes, the season changes, the time changes.

It is when we must embrace the fact that the time change will have us seeing the dark sooner. A time when the trees begin to let loose the leaves, orange, brown and yellow leaves flying about.

It is the time when the ghouls and horrors are seen in decorations, shows, movies and parties.

It is the time when we say farewell to the summer heat, smile toward the cooler weather and wonder of the winter to come.

Happy October! May there be light within you to shine upon the earlier darker hours. May the ghouls and gremlins that ring the door bell make you smile and partake in trick or treat.

May you embrace the change in season knowing... it will bring us back to Spring soon enough.

I have added a tab - Whisper my words, which is a link to my site where I post stories, poems, AndMore events and the Watcher's Journal. Take a peek and enjoy.

Enjoy!

~g

August 28, 2011

Confessions of Despoina; I am not upset.

She picked up her journal, quill and ink and walked out into the garden.  Her tears would flow faster then the steps she took.  At a distance where her favorite tree stood she sat and without hesitation began to write.

The year does not matter for one falls into another and time escapes me.  It is only on this day that I realize the years that have passed with no change at all.


It began one day when his blue eyes met mine, brown and fierce it did not make him look elsewhere.  It was a short time before we became great friends.  We spoke of everything under the sun and at times of nothing at all.  We shared laughter and at times pain as friends would.  We watched or heard of each others failures in love.  Never did we judge one another, often we rallied each other that we would find true love.


Years would pass...oh how it would seem as though it were only a short time.  Our friendship changed just as friendships do.  In a moment of one feeling loneliness and the other lost we embraced as lovers do.  Never did we speak of our new found relationship, ever the secret mutually agreed.  Did we think that it would happen again? I can not answer for him.  I surely didn't believe it so.


Not a time did you make me feel as though I were more than a trusted friend.  Not a time did I feel my heart betray me and you.  I danced into our embrace each time thinking it would be the last.


Has many seasons really passed by?  The wrinkles along my eyes tell me so.  We've watched each other go through trials of life and yet beholden to each other we never spoke.


A secret still and yet we have no one to betray.  A secret still one of us remains.  As if the sands of time stood still one has remained as aloof as a friend.  As if the sands of time could run out so quickly the other has grown to yearn the embrace, long to be spoken of and yet...complacent to the momentary embraces.


In all the years not a word, a thought or action to give the illusion of a friendship that has grown and yet here I sit by this Willow tree and write with tears of regret.  I am not upset that he does not love me.  I am upset that I keep believing he will.


Is it a crime of the heart to put myself in such a reflection-less window?  It must be.
Is it torturous to offer ones heart knowing it will be rejected silently?  It must be.
Is it fair to oneself to be a best kept secret? Yes, it is.


The Greeks have a name that fit me well in this charade and it is Despoina.  For truly in all the seasons that have passed I have been a mistress to one that is not married.  I am not upset, I am too hopeful.  


My tears tell me that hope has heard from reality and it is time to be a secret no more.  To walk proudly in life and another will call to my name and it will not be Despoina.  I will one day sit by an Oak and write of loves embrace.

She gathered her journal, quill and ink and walked back knowing that finally an end had come to a misery laced in passion.  She walked knowing that love and all it's grandness was just a short distance away.  A season or more away.

August 19, 2011

My little Book Review...Watchers The Coming of the King by William Meikle

Struggling to find a good book? A great one?
Tired of the regular vampire stories and romance?
Want to read something with a bite?

Have I got just the read.  Truly I ashamed to admit I missed a couple of train stops reading this.  Good luck putting it down once you turn the first page.

Watchers    The Coming of the King by William Meikle

England - Scotland William Meikle picked wonderful locations and is set in the 18th century.

You get a buffet for your reading with this book.  The Watchers are determined to protect their land while their enemy are determined to take it.  You are pulled page by page into this coming war and your heart races along with the characters.

The wall has been built for a long time keeping safe all within along with the stories of the past.  Stories which will unfold as truths of an inevitable war.

Martin, Sean and Mary are the three names that will haunt me until I read the next book.

Martin is the son of the Thane who holds the throne of England and finds himself protecting the wall, the throne and his father.

Sean a friend to Martin is set on keeping his promise to protect Mary the daughter of a Scot who saved Martin.

Mary is the key that makes Sean grow up in a short time, haunts Martins dreams and brings the Bloodking and his army of undead to the wall.

Riveting, heart-racing, edge of your seat all seem to small of words to describe this book.  It has left me wanting more.  William Meikle has definitely made an avid reader out of me.  Bravo! On a well written, gripping story that took me away from day to day routine.  I have traveled through time and through lands via the words of this author and the trance of this book.

Find it on Amazon or go to his site:

http://williammeikle.com/

August 16, 2011

Twitter, Facebook, G+ Oh My...can I have a TweetDeck?


In my humble opinion...

I keep hearing/reading of the same complaint.  Now I have more sites to check.  Social Network bombarding is getting the best of us.

I have been testing the TweetDeck from Twitter.  Since joining the G+ craze I have found myself on Facebook, Twitter, Foursquare and G+ to name a few.  I have to say that going browsing from tab to tab has been a bit much, especially when I have several other tabs going on.

Someone mentioned TweetDeck but the Twitter was only thinking of testing it.  I jumped right in.

At first glance you are a bit overwhelmed.  Once you start adding your accounts and populating  your columns it seems a bit much.  The more accounts and followers you add, the more activity all at once.  But after several minutes it became easier to follow.

As tweets and posts come in you see it populating, the most recent at top.  G+ is still not on this but I am down to one additional tab.  I get my wireless news, tech news and all other updates from my social networks on one page.

I like it.  I'm surprised that I like it.  Responding is easy either within the new tweet or post or at the top of the TweetDeck page where you will see a COMPOSE box.  Once you start typing the box extends to show an icon of your accounts, you can pick which to send from.

Notification can be selected with the option of pop up and/or sound.

You can click on a post or tweet to check if you are following/friend them and can do so if you are not.  One click additional...works for me.

Worth a try for anyone that wants all their social buzzing on one page.  Not for those that can't tolerate too much on one screen.

Of course I am only one day in.  But I have been viewing, replying and following all through TweetDeck today.

If stars were the factor I would give it 3 out of 5.

August 15, 2011

Inspiration me...Helmet, shield and armor

From the  year 2002 through 2007 consistently life was rough.  One issue after another...work, home, son, personal life, family and friends.  Through those times even though I felt as though things would not get better at my core something would nag.  A constant knowing that all would be well.  I began a series of letters to myself, in poem style.  Letters that would speak of inspiration, trials and surviving.  The one constant theme in all the letters were the helmet, shield and armor.

Each morning I would read an inspiration page, card or verse.  I would them imagine myself putting on a helmet of knowledge.  This helmet would allow me the calm and peace to deal with all the curves ahead in the day.  The shield would protect me while I strengthened and the armor would not allow negativity or malice to pierce through.  Each poem in one way or another would state how I would put that armor on, then I would remind myself of all the things that would inspire me.  Nature, music, books, meditation and/or just walking.

I have been inspired in many ways by many things and people.  It is today though where I was inspired so much I was overwhelmed.

I was invited to speak at an event.  This event was held in a garden where beautiful bushes, trees and flowers nestled in a discreet area.  Harlem, NYC right smack in between of two buildings.  If it were not for the tables outside with the pamphlets of the event, I would have passed it up it was so discreet.  An oasis in the midst of a scary part of town.  In this garden were people with a cause.  To help others in certain situations.  Their passion, voice and longing filled me with even more inspiration.  I had spent a couple of days writing what I would say.  I dug up a poem from 2002...Fighting for Tomorrrow, one of the letters to myself.

What I wrote to say I discarded soon after arriving.  The speakers before me filled my heart with what I would say.  The cause brought me back to a time when I too suffered despair and a kindred spirit arouse within me.

I humbled.  How can I inspire these people who have inspired me?  I worried the poem was not enough, I worried my words would not carry the inspiration they would need.  For they need inspiration.  Their quest is a fight that will take time and energy.  My words would be the last they hear at the event.  The pressure of that sunk in.

Too soon came my time.  I was absorbing so much information, words spoken, the characters before me, the passions I wish I had long ago to make a difference for some else.  I felt...purposeful.

I have given many a class on inspiration and intentions.  Empowering women that fall into my path or I theirs, but this was vastly different.  Something inside me made it clear this was just the beginning.

I spoke of exactly that.  The difference and inspiration I received and the hopes I could return it in a matter of minutes.  I read the poem and silence was heard.  I watched faces absorb the words and my heart filled.

When I was done I realized I was shaking flesh to words.  I looked around and felt...peace.

As I took the train home I realized it all started with yes.  I have said no to many things for so long I had forgotten the gift of yes.  It is late and I am tired.  But...I shall post that poem:


A fight for tomorrow.  ~gracey (some of you will remember my many written words of the helmet, shield and armor)
Yesterday was filled with sorrow
Today was bitter and painful
It is time to prepare for tomorrow
To brace for the disdainful

I place the shield in hand
I put on the helmet of knowledge and peace
These I wear and take a stand
As I feel my inner strength increase

I strap on the strong iron armor
None harm shall pierce through
Not a malice or heartless charmer
Only the pure hearted; the true,

will penetrate its stance
With these battle gears
I shall awaken and advance
Onto a new day….less fears
Copyright© 2007 Graciela Cardenas-Castro

August 12, 2011

Update to blog site

I will be revamping the site.  I want more space for different types of writing.  Stay tuned.

Twitter Is Removing Your @Mentions Folder. Here’s How To Get It Back. - AllTwitter

August 09, 2011

AndMore...the youth...crumbling walls

A co-worker and I walked to the market one lunch hour.  We began to speak lightly of politics.  I ventured that my opinion is that we are a society of whiners.  We really don't make changes or prevent the abuse of the system.  We merely whine about it.

His take...How can anyone (most especially those of his generation, one after mine) fight?  They must pay the student loans that await them soon after graduating.  They must hold fast to the job, if they are lucky to have one.  Protesting would only have them lose it.  Insurance is needed and therefore even that would be jeopardized.

My take...Silence would only allow the abuse to continue...and keep us as whiners.

A day later I read of the London Riots.  The young for a varied of reasons ranging from; the shooting of a person suspected to be gang related, to wanting to show the police and the rich they can do what they want (this from two women caught looting).  Some speculate it is a building or festering of the abuse of the system there.

Surely it is not only the young that are fed up.  However, violence begets violence.  The cause is lost in the midst of seeing people set businesses on fire, burning homes and beating up police or innocents.

I long for our people to take a stand and speak with a strong voice, one voice.  To firmly state NO MORE!  (Sigh)... I can't see it happening.  I can't even read on social networking sites of updates without seeing hostility in comments.  Hostility toward the topic of hostility, it truly makes me scratch my head.

But back to the lunch hour....

We arrived with the stand as when we left.  We need to speak up.  We need to somehow without violence show our governments that we the people have a say.  But as he said...one generation is too afraid of losing the little they have (talk about losing one's voice) and the other too afraid of not being heard.

So instead...we whine.  On the internet, in comments and to one another.  Truly it is the reason governments are so careless with our livelihood.

UK - Stand strong.  Much blessings to your rebuilding.  May your young learn that violence just silenced the cause.  How sad.
US - Don't let our young get so frustrated.  Be the generation with a voice that required no violence.

August 08, 2011

The Watcher's Notes: Despicable They #2

The Watcher's Notes: Despicable They #2: "It is daily...the horror. Daily I watch people treat one another in despicable ways. Today's top 10 Despicable They! Of course this post..."

Despicable They #2

It is daily...the horror.  Daily I watch people treat one another in despicable ways.

Today's top 10 Despicable They!


Of course this postings list will commence with commuters again...they just give me so much material.


  1. The DUMBASS (early twenties female) that literally pushes all out of her way, zig-zagging and running to get a seat.  Elderly and  handicaps beware!  She doesn't care!
  2. The one that stands in the way of the turn stile while digging through her purse for the Metro Card instead of allowing anyone else to get through.
  3. The foreigner that barely speaks English and will use the English language on the Metro refill station.  Even though the machine has multiple languages to use.  Learn English elsewhere please.
  4. The perv that places his crotch closer then necessary to a woman's face while standing, when there are several seats available and/or enough room to hold on while standing without violating anyone.
  5. That person that does something as an act of kindness but really has a motive behind the act.
  6. That woman that refuses to return a greeting EVERY MORNING, I mean really...really??? Saying good morning is that HARD????  Tomorrow I will flip her the bird.
  7. That guy that thinks because he messed with your head years ago he can do it at will - years later.
  8. That person that bugs the shit out of you to see you then makes other plans.  Seriously????
  9. The gas station attendant that makes you have a melt down because you don't open the gas door quick enough.
  10. The Quick Chek clerk that won't take care of you until she has finished flirting with her co-worker.  Multitasking clearly misunderstood by the next generation!
Have a list of your own?  Any of the above on it???  Wouldn't surprise me - ONE BIT!



August 04, 2011

The Watcher's Notes: AndMore...What's it all for?...Go figure, I'm not ...

The Watcher's Notes: AndMore...What's it all for?...Go figure, I'm not ...: "AndMore...What's it all for?...Go figure, I'm not dying There are times I feel I have to learn a lesson the hard way, actually it's n..."

AndMore...What's it all for?...Go figure, I'm not dying


AndMore...What's it all for?...Go figure, I'm not dying

There are times I feel I have to learn a lesson the hard way, actually it's not a feeling but a fact.  What's it all for? I've been asking myself that for a few months now.  Why get up? Why go through the hell of a commute? Why fight for a mundane life; an existence of beating my head against the chest of unemotional walls. 

Then I find myself at a point where I am sick.  I start going to one doctor after another, after a specialist after another, after tests after another.  At one point a line of Dr.'s gave looks that were grimmer, the reports and letters scary.  'Find a surgeon, get surgery'.

What's it all for?  Why bother?  

But then I realize God and I have a strange relationship shared by a strange sense of humor.  He lets me sit and feed into all that negativity and despair.  Wallowing in that cloak of darkness they call depression knowing I just have to look up, but I don't, I just keep asking myself...what's it all for?

Then one day he does what he always does….  He bitch slaps me.  They call it panic attacks but he and I know better.  It's a bitch slap.  It shakes me from my core and out of that despair and darkness, morbidity and self pity. That panic attack/bitch slap leads me to a nurse, who after hearing through my sobs and despair, everywhere that I have gone through and all the medical actions I have taken.  To find that no one would schedule the surgery required.  She makes some calls and finds a surgeon but I am still asking myself, what's it all for?

I'm not even as concerned of a grim outlook as I am of the mess I have to clean if given a short time.  What's it all for?  I get to this new Dr who from the start no matter how many specialists, locations, tests or reports, no matter what she is shown or told, what she reads or hears on the phone… something is not right.  So she schedules the surgery anyway, after all that is what the referral recommends.  In that time I sit and I wallow in self pity, masking it through the work day, swimming in it when alone.

After seeing people you love not care, make an effort or even take an interest.  You don’t want to ask the few that offer to help.  But… the bitch slaps/panic attacks are happening more often and even driving is dangerous…so…they drive you where you need to go. They are there for you through the whole process at times giving you the silent ‘there – there’ and the loudly heard 'we are here for you'.  You realize that you are so grateful for those few and that they shine a light in your darkness.

The day comes and you are ready for the surgery, seven weeks in the making and several doctors later.  You give yourself one more 'what's it all for' but don’t want another bitch slap and make the strongest effort.  

'You're OK, you don't need surgery’, the tests retaken prior to the scheduled surgery proved it so.  I hugged that Dr with all my might.  ‘Simple treatments and removing certain things from your diet should keep things in order.  Come back in six months.’  I just love those words.

I'm left stunned but then I look up and I smile understanding and mentally asking 'can you lighten up on the bitch slaps'.  

It doesn't matter that the phone calls you wait for don't arrive, it doesn't matter that the ones you want to let know what it going on, frankly don't care.  All that matters is that those that do where there from start to finish, ripping away at that cloak of darkness, putting some love on the hand prints of proverbial bitch slapping.

You take the treatment and don’t even feel any pain.  Twelve hours rest – that will be easy since sleep was near impossible for weeks.

I learned a few things...a few many things and I shall list them.

What’s it all for?  It's for many reasons
I may not get the love I want from all I want, but I have plenty to teach how to give
You can't change people, but you can change yourself
Just when you think you can't see or hear God - he’s right there in your face
Truth be told…I appreciate God’s humor
At the end of the day I do want to live and I want to be happy
I've been given many gifts and I will start utilizing them as the gifts they are
Pay it forward means you hope that whatever you did for one, they will do for another and if they don't that's ok, because maybe the next person will
Seven doctors can be wrong and that eighth (my favorite number by the way) can be right
Even though that right Dr looks at you in a medical sense, they can inadvertently heal your heart and spirit too
I've gotten used to that rotten commute because I make the effort every time and am rewarded with arriving
Life is about living not about how others help you live it
I really should change the title to – It’s for Living. Go figure…I’m alive.


August 01, 2011

The Watcher's Notes: Despicable They

The Watcher's Notes: Despicable They: "I thought of adding the page Despicable They to my www.graceycastro.com site. But then I thought, heck...I could have plenty material and ..."

Despicable They

I thought of adding the page Despicable They to my www.graceycastro.com site.  But then I thought, heck...I could have plenty material and keep posting.  So...the page is now part of the blog.

Today's DESPICABLE THEY will be......(drum roll please)......commuters!

It is daily...the horror.  Daily I watch people treat one another in despicable ways.

Today's top 10 Despicable They!

I see it all the time -

  1. The pregnant woman that is shoved and pushed by others so they can get to an empty seat.
  2. Women are usually the ones to offer up their seats to a pregnant woman. If anyone does at all.
  3. The woman that most mornings is on the same train as I.  Picking her nose and flinging her findings. I seriously think she aims at something.
  4. The men that are tall and can easily grasp the top handle bar but use the lower side ones and let the little people stand on their tippy toes.
  5. The people that spit without looking to see who is coming up along side them.
  6. The man that on a daily basis shoves people out of the way so he can get into the path first.
  7. The news that boldly states e-coli all over the subways because of people that don't wash their hands.  Seriously...how do you get shit on your hands!!!  How do you not wash them??? Don't believe me? Read it:  http://www.metro.us/newyork/local/article/931204--hang-tense-how-to-surf-the-ny-subway
  8. The person that intentionally walks aiming at you with a look that says 'Go ahead - don't move so I can walk all over you'.  Then gets upset when you don't move...clearly because there is a BUILDING on your right and they are hogging up the sidewalk.
  9. The street vendor that sweats all over the food he is selling, occasionally wiping said sweat with sleeve.
  10. The guy that while reading on his Kindle shoves his hand up his ass to scratch, repeatedly from Grove St. to 33rd (that's a lot of stops and a lot of scratching).  This must be one of the e-coli spreaders.