Born last century, last millennial then came breast cancer, then COVID and finally the closing of my business of 31 years, Downtown Day Spa Santa Fe.Over the last few months of the New Year, I was gifted items symbolic of blessing the launch of a new project. First from Minnesota was sage stick, incense and a Buddha candle holder. Next came a exquisite piece of Charoite set in a black crochet necklace chain. The properties of Charoite are often described as a calming and clearing stone. What a gift for me to move forward in my new commitment to start my Blog. Then I was gifted a crochet black necklace chain embracing a 2000 year old Roman apothecary bottle the size of my pinkie. Wow! The signs from the Universe were there.There was no better time than to start a blog, so I jumped in.

Over the years I’ve heard it said “born with a silver spoon in one’s mouth”. Well, I swear I was born with a emery board in my hand. If only my emery board could talk what a story it would tell. I was born the day after St Patrick’s Day, March 18. My mom being a loyal Brit held out giving birth on the 17th so I wouldn’t be born on St Paddy’s Day. As I turned into a high school teenager, I longed to have a tennis sweater like all the preppies worn and I was always fussing over my naturally occurring long finger nails. In fact when I graduated in 1968 from Windsor Locks High School in Windsor Locks , CT. the claim in the graduating will was I left with my long frosted white fingernails, I assure you I left with more than that, a burning desire to claim my birth given right-my destiny.

Years earlier, the search had begun in the shade tobacco fields of the Connecticut River Valley. After WWII, my parents had settled in a small rural community, Windsor Locks, home to Hamilton Standard , an American aircraft propeller parts supplier. Later it would become associated with NASA. In 1969,Hamilton Standard was highlighted in Apollo 11 landing. Hamilton Standard had manufactured environmental control, fuel cell, and life support systems right in my backyard. My dad worked there long and hard in the shipping department, making around $60 p/wk to support a family of four kids. My lusting after a tennis sweater was mostly not in their budget. The answer to my quest for a tennis sweater was to get a job.

What blocked my quest were the child labor laws, Being only 11, there were restrictions. The Connecticut laws allowed me to work only the agriculture. Tobacco was hiring at $1.25 an hour which was better paying than babysitting at $.50 an hour. My mom bought me my first pair of Levi jeans in green. AS I boarded the bus with my lunch of frozen soda and a peanut butter jelly sandwich, I felt like Mr Green Jeans. At 7am every weekday morning, I was picked up by the bus for the Meyer Mendelsohn fields in Windsor. Somehow I endured those long hours in hot humid long days picking, stringing and sewing tobacco leaves while tobacco rash ravaged my hands and forearms. By the end of the Summer my goal was insight . Taking the train into Hartford, I walked down to Main Street where I proudly purchased a 100% merino navy blue wool pullover tennis sweater for $125 at Lerners. The store may be out of business however my tennis sweater is in mint condition and now a collectible vintage item. When wearing it now, I still feel the joy of when I first pulled it on over my head and went off to high school feeling like one of the preppy rich kids.