Archive for the ‘ Parties and Fun ’ Category

The Little Pink Dress

Tuesday, June 8th, 2010

“THE LITTLE PINK DRESS”

(Hanging In My Art Room Minding It’s Own Business.)

I’m having a family party at my house. My sister, sitting in a chair on the patio, leans over to me sitting on the chair next to her and says, “Venus, someone has to tell you. Never wear that dress again. Go look in the mirror at your butt.”

I look at Polly, agast.

“That dress ripples all up your butt. Go look. You’ll see.”

I run madly into the house and look in the Magic Mirror, the one who lies to me and always tells me I look 10-15 lbs lighter than I really do.

I turn around and look at my butt. The little pink patterned dress is riding high, but cute, I think.

I’m mystified as I return to the front porch where most of us are gathered, eating potluck and cake.

“”Ummmmmm,” Polly says. She nods her head at another sister. “Look at Barbara. Now that’s the kind of top you need to be wearing at our age.”

I look at Barbara. It’s a nice pale yellow top, but it’s tucked up under her breasts and flounces out and around over her stomach and hips down to her mid thighs. To me, it looks like a yellow boy scout tent. Barbara is a pretty girl and can wear anything, but I have always seen myself as a Looker with a tiny waist that I like to emphasize.

“These tight dresses,” Polly says as she looks at my middle, “show off the rolls around our waists.”

She draws back in her chair, narrows her eyes, looks at me and says, “Are you wearing a bra?”

I look down and imagine that my ‘huge’ breasts must be dragging low, placidly curled up on my belly ball stomach.

Another sister or sister in law backs Polly and her observations about me in this dress. Another woman chimes in to mention another fault of mine in this little pink stretchy dress and tsk tsk, I should have thought a bit more before I put it on.

Another woman from down the mountain adds that I usually dress like people dress in my little town, kind of like a hick.

Their comments are all meant to help me, they assure me, with sympathy in their tone, but I am kind of confounded and crushed. I seem to be ‘It’ today. All the Lady Chickens are picking on and pecking at me.

“Someone has to tell you,” Polly reiterates. “It’s a kindness.”

I sigh and hang my head.

Later, I corner my son-in-law Charles and my ex boyfriend Bill, in the kitchen.

“Do I look awful in this dress? ” I ask.

The two guys look surprised.

Charles says, “You look great! Remember, I told you earlier in the hall how hot you look, that you look even better than you did years ago.”

Bill seems puzzled and adds, “I think you look real good. Why?”

Why? Well my friends…here’s why I asked the men for their opinion of my dress.

It’s because women see other women differently then men see women. And, that is the truth. We women hold ourselves to high and impossible standards of beauty.

But..Most men honestly don’t seem to see our flaws.

Can you imagine? Yes. It’s true. Men by and large are very simple and sweet. They don’t notice our flopping thighs, our meandering butts or the flapping, dimpled fat on our arms. If they find us as a woman attractive, they find us attractive. If they don’t, well frankly, they don’t even see us.

A few days ago I went to a small store in town that I frequent a lot. It is run by a very religious couple with five kids. The father is around thirty five or forty and he is quite handsome.

As I was trotting up the steps to their store, he happened to come out on the stoop. He looked at me and obviously without thinking, shouted, “Hi, Hot Stuff!”

I almost swallowed my spit backwards. I’m still Hot Stuff??

Grinning all the way home I also laughed out loud. Sang along with the radio. Swung and shook my sweet little body on the car seat.

I am thinking of that man now and of my son-in-law and my ex-boyfriend and I am elated. Thank gosh men see us differently than we women have been trained see each other!

Men are visual and they are attracted to a woman visually, but obviously, they see what they want to see and I say ‘God Save The Queen’ and ‘Thank you God’ and ‘Pass the beans’. I love men’s simple acceptance of what physically is, and I love  their blind eye, and I am so relieved that I only need to look perfect around my lady friends.

But hey…just to cause trouble, I am gonna’ wear that little pink dress, no bra and a party hat to the next family gathering and we’ll see what kind of hell breaks out with the women.

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God In The House

“GOD IS IN THE HOUSE”

This is one of my ART MOJO PAINTINGS….where I put Energy into my art as I am painting it…to fill your house with Good Energy of whatever kind you ask for.  When you purchase paintings you email me the Mojo you want in them and why, and I write a special, extra Mojo on the back, just for you and ’slap’ it into the picture along with the others already there. To see all the art work or to purchase please see:    http://www.artmojos.com

THESE ARE ALL ORIGINAL PAINTINGS (not prints)

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Phone Sessions With Venus

“I have been to lots of readers, but you are the best, Venus. You are honest and tell the truth and give good advice. You also really do read minds, talk to dead people and move good energies in our favor. Just wanted you to know I appreciate you. Penny D.”

To see how I work, testimonials and my rates please go to: http://www.godisalwayshappy.com

(PS  You will notice I made myself look 25 with red hair in my painting. Oh well, an artist has free rein with their creativity, right? x Venus)

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*You may have also noticed that I have finally learned how to put photos on my blog! Yes, it’s taken me several days and I have worn myself out but I am so excited I feel like I am spinning with some kind of formerly unknown and under used brilliance. I must have had the technical type of brains all along, but where were they?

Just wait until I start putting photos up of my mother and siblings! Good thing they don’t read my blog.

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WINNER

Winner of  a 10 minute free phone session with me:   Stacie Prince This offer is valid through June 14th, 2010, after that it is null and void.

To have a chance to WIN, please sign up for this blog where it says ‘FEED’ and sign up on my website for the Newsletter. http://www.godisalwayshappy.com

I draw a name every week on my Tuesday ‘Dear Venus radio Show’ ( http://www.contacttalkradio.com)

and with every new Blog and whenever I send out an Email Newsletter

COLLECTING A LIFE

Friday, September 25th, 2009

A letter comes in the mail. It’s from my daughter Summer and there is a note stuck on the folded letter inside. It says, ‘Mom, Lexi couldn’t sleep last night so she stayed up late, secretly writing this to you. All by herself! It is adorable. XO Summer.’

I unfold the lined paper and read:

“Hi BABA how are you and Bob and Bill. (Bob is the dog and Bill is the Ex-boyfriend. Lexi is my 6 year old granddaughter.)

“I hav sum great plans for October.

“I am going to hav a lot of fun.

“I will hav a lot of fun with you, Bill and Bob of cors. I am gowing to hav a Super dupr jollygood time.

“Here is a poem I made up.’

(Here’s where I get scared. It’s a poem about me, and oh boy, Lexi is always totally honest in her evaluations of people. I have already heard about my hanging flesh and a few other things so I take a deep breath and resolve to take it like a Good Grandmother would. With pleasure, whatever she says.)

‘Yore eyes are brone.

Yore hair is blond.

Yore teeth are wite.

Yore lips are pink.

That was it.’

“See you in October. LoveLexi. (heart, heart, hearts etc)”

Oh my gosh. I breathe relief. What do YOU think that last line could have been? I know what I think and am so glad I don’t stink. Lexi would have told me if I do. (more…)

VENUS GETS HIT BY ‘LIGHTENING’ AT LUNCH

Tuesday, June 9th, 2009

We’re watching lightening fritz through the sky and hammer the hills around us. This is Southern California and a lightening storm is a novel sight.

Eight of us Art Guild Girls are sitting outside on a stone terrace, next to a undulating golf course, having lunch. The sky may be full of danger but as I am soon to find, there is more emotional danger at the  table.

We ‘girls’ range in age from 40 to 80 plus, years old. We are the President of the Guild, on down through the ranks to The Sunshine Girl, which is me.

We do all the work that keeps the art meetings happening in town, we bring the demo artists that perform for all the local artists once a month, we bring in money, award scholarships to High School kids, keep the Art Library going, put on art shows and etc. We deserve a lunch at the end of the fiscal year and I have finally convinced my Guild friends that we do indeed need one.

The ladies ask me to order the wine. I order a bottle of red shiraz named ‘Layer Cake.’ How can one not order something with a name like that? And, I order a nice chardonnay.

We’re having a fun time. Oh sure, one lady has to tell us a story about a cat that she took on a trip that kept disappearing and we have to follow that darn cat through almost every state in the union. I keep saying, ‘So did it all work out OK?’ and she keeps saying, ‘I’m not through with the story yet,’ and everyone rolls their eyes and takes another lick of ‘Layer Cake.’

We’re eating and drinking and laughing and I’m thinking, ‘Oh, this lunch was such a good idea. We are all so happy together.’  Suddenly, ‘Ardath’ who is lost in her 70’s somewhere, looks at me and says says in her high-pitched wavey voice, “Oh Venus..you have such a won-der-ful personality! You have a fab-u-lous per-son-ality!”

I’m grinning and thanking her, “Thank you Ardath, that’s so sweet, thank you..” when she adds loudly, ‘But, that’s all you’ve got!”

“Whaat?”

“Are you always this way?” she asks.

“Whaaat?”

Then, Ardath leans across the table and looks at me intently, as she shouts, “Are you Bi-po-lar?!” (more…)

Life Is A Round Egg

Thursday, May 14th, 2009

My ex-husband Ken, has given me total permission to say anything I want about him on this blog. Is he crazy? Or, was he drinking when he said it? I can’t remember, so that’s good enough for me, I will just imagine that he said, ‘yes’ while he was in his right and usual mind.

Ken is Summer’s dad. He is also known as Bumpa to our grand kids, Lexi and Loch.

Ken is going to build me a chicken coop. I have it in my mind that I want three red laying hens: Stella, Lolly and maybe Louise.

Ken asks me how soon do I want this coop. I say, “Right now. Immediately. I have already met my new chicken friends at the Diamond D Feed Store.”

We work out the perfect spot on my property. It’s almost under a giant scrub oak tree.

Ken paces out the size, raises one of his arms in the air and says, “The nesting boxes are just past my armpit.”

Then, he goes home.

He emails me several days later. “When I drive by in a few days on my way to my house in the desert, I’ll pick you up and take you to the desert hot springs.”

I email back and say, “No. I have a better idea. When you come by let’s go up to Ransom Brothers hardware store and get all the materials to build the chicken coop. Then we will come back to my house and build it. My chickens are waiting.”

Mother’s Day comes around and Ken is here at my house, babysitting our grand kids while my mother, my daughter Summer and four sisters and a woman friend, lunch and party.

Bumpa takes babysitting seriously. He sits on a chair near the end of the patio and watches the kids make mud pies, just beyond the metal gate. For hours. He watches the kids like an interested guard dog.

Meanwhile, a few drinks into the outdoor brunch, my daughter Summer mentions that another scrub oak’s arms are too far into part of my patio.

“Mom, no one can walk through here. We need to cut those branches out.” (more…)

A Cheery Day With Venus

Wednesday, April 29th, 2009

When my father went blind, I sometimes took him to the Blind Center where he could socialize. One day, I met an old blind lady there, named Ruth.  She was charming but what captivated me most was that Ruth had penciled her bald eyebrows into a surprised arch……. with a bright red lip liner.

I remember thinking, ‘Oh my gosh, is this my fate in my old age? Will I be doing things like this?”

Apparently so.  I look in the mirror as I’m getting ready for my big Studio Art Tour Event and I notice that I have outlined my eyes, top and bottom, not with a brown eyebrow pencil but with my red lip liner.

Eeeeh gads!!

I assure myself that the light in this bathroom is very poor.

It’s the day of the Studio Tour when hopefully, hordes of buyers will come and purchase my art.

Summer, her father Bumpa, and my grand kids are here to help me. Lexi is six and Loch is three.

Loch has arrived wearing his usual attire. A tee shirt, shorts, high plastic yellow rain boots patterned with some kid design and his large green and white cotton gloves.

He only takes his gloves off when he goes to bed. For several years now he has referred to himself as ‘a hard working man,’ and he likes to dress the part.

Summer tells me he wears the gloves so constantly that they have acquired a rank stink.

“I’ve washed them and bleached them but within a few days, the smell is back,” she says.

She tells me she is afraid that he’s going to get a fungus. (more…)

Watch Out! There’s A Green Onion On Face Book!

Friday, April 17th, 2009

My granddaughter Lexi has been with me for two weeks and she is ready to go home.

We are both emotionally exhausted. 

One day I take her to the movies to see ‘Monsters and Aliens’ in 3-D. I get her a big bag of greasy popcorn and she sits in the aisle seat with me next to her.

The sound from the movie is suddenly like twenty boom boxes going off in a small room. Lexi jumps,sits back down, then keeps turning to me and shouting, Is it too loud for you BaBa?! Are you OK?”

I assure her I am.

“Is it too loud for you, BaBa?!” she persists.

“I’m OK, Lexi, really.”

“Is it too loud for you BaBa?”

Then BAM! There is some kind of movie explosion, Lexi leaps from her seat and reflexively tosses her entire enormous bag of popcorn into the air and all over the aisle floor.

She wails and moans in despair.

Lexi is a very emotional child.

 I suddenly get it. The noise is too loud for Lexi but the only way she can say that  is to keep asking if it’s too loud for me!

Another day I take Lexi to the Wild Animal Park. You might think this would be fun, but the same thing happens to me that always happens to me at that Park. Lexi and I get wound up in the center of the Park and never make it to the animals. We just can’t seem to find our way to the lions or the gorillas or even the screaming birds. We do see a lot of food stands and shops and lots of fat jungle pigs but we keep seeing those same red snouted beasts over and over because we keep ending up at the pig pen.

It’s getting hot so we strip down a bit. This means that we eventually lose Lexi’s little red jacket with the fake rat fur collar. Lexi moans and cries and wishes very loudly that we had never lost it and what will she do without her jacket, forever and ever!

Lexi is a very emotional child.

We eventually find the jacket draped over a fence. It isn’t hard to find because we continue to walk the same damn circle that we have been walking for two hours.

 Lexi does get to ride the merry go round. She always rides the cheetah and by golly she rides it again today, four times. This is how it goes:

 She sits on the big plastic cheetah and straps herself in. Then we wait for maybe fifteen minutes. A bell rings, the carousel starts to turn and around and around everyone goes for about one and one half minutes. Then, it grinds to a halt. Lexi waits on the cheetah for at least another 15 minutes when the fun ride starts up again, and goes around and around for one and one half minutes. Then, it comes to rest and Lexi waits on the cheetah for the next forty years. 

At one point she’s on the other side of the carousel and I can’t see her from the cold stone bench I am sitting on. I get up and walk around the back of the merry go round to check on her and make sure she hasn’t been snatched by people looking to kidnap someone.

She hasn’t been kidnapped but she is hanging up-side down from a spotted horse, because she is strung up and hog-tied in a leather safety belt. She cries out to me and says she can’t get off the horse, that she is caught.

I have to rush onto the carousel and extricate her which isn’t easy. She decides the only safe animal is the cheetah and back onto it she goes. Another fifteen minutes and they’re off. And, then we wait and do it, again.

So much for The Wild Animal Park.

Lexi likes to eat. When we are home there is a constant chorus of “I want olives. I want pickles. I want ice cream, my Mommy gives me ice cream.”

(Yeah right.)

“I need more olives. I need more pickles. I want root beer. My Mommy gives me root beer.”

(Yeah right.)

“I’m hungry BaBa.”

She and I are always foraging through the pantry, the cupboards, the refrigerator and the freezer, hunting for something that she thinks she wants that I will allow her to have. And rarely do the twain meet.

When Summer comes to get Lexi to take her home, her mother and I have a few glasses of red wine (for our nerves) and subsequently decide it will be a good idea to put me on Face Book. Not that we know how to do this or even what it means or why we should be there.

Summer somehow gets me on three pages on Face Book! We are astonished. There is a personal page, a friend page and a fan page.

Summer says, “Mom, you only need one page as you will never keep up, otherwise.”

“What am I keeping up with?” I want to know.

 Summer isn’t sure.

We decide I only need a Fan page as I consider my radio listeners and the people I do phone readings with, my friends.

Good. We agree. But, we can’t find the Fan Page ever again.

 I realize that Summer is going back down the mountain and that I am being left with knowing nothing about how to find the page I want or what to do with Face Book.

I whine, “Summer, what am I going to do?”

Summer doesn’t know and I don’t think she cares as she has sobered up and it’s time for her to scoop up the kids and go home.

The next day I run my car down the mountain to the big book store and buy a manual on how to use Face Book. I am elated. It can’t be that hard to learn.

It is.

The book was published in 2008 but already not much matches the Face Book I have. I want to put my maiden name on a page so some of my old chums might find me, but what the book tells me to do doesn’t work. Nothing works.

I throw down the book in disgust. I think about another project I am trying to master. Energy medicine. Learning to balance  meridians and balance the body and health. It seems much easier then learning Face Book.

There’s also the Art Studio Tour this weekend. I am one of the artists on the Tour. This means I will have my home studio open on Saturday and Sunday for the paying public. They don’t pay me, they pay the Chamber of Commerce.

I will need to clean my studio and my house, price all my paintings, display them artistically in my studio, make huge pots of coffee, put out wine and cake,  and hope that I will make a few sales. Am I ready for this? No.

I have been on the Tour for a number of years and this is what actually happens:

50 gazillion people  come to my house.

They ooh and ahh over my flowers and trees and property, parade through my studio and then into what I call my Chinese Bathroom with the black wall paper with huge white flowers and the bright red floor and from there….

They scatter. Rivers of strangers stray through my house, ooohng and ahhhing and fingering my plants to see if they are real.

They sit on my queen size bed and on my Todo toilets.

They run the water in my kitchen sink and open my cupboard doors to have a better look at the pounded and stenciled tin insets. The remark on my vibrant red kitchen and the vivid bird wall paper.

They plunk themselves on my poofy couches and say things to each other  like, “Hummm, feels good here. Let’s stay awhile.” And they do.

 I decide I need to look better then I do for the wave of lookers this weekend.

So… I finally get my hair done. As you may know, my regular hairdresser ran off to Oklahoma at least four months ago. Shortly after that I got my hair done by a new stylist and she turned it a rabid rat dung brown.  Arrrgh. We must have miscommunicated.

I have since spent a lot of time sitting in the sun trying to get the color to fade, which it has.

I have now at last found another stylist. I have been three times to chat with her about how I want my hair. As of today, my hair color is divine because I have finally convinced her to let some of my natural white hair come into the artificially colored mix. I have also let my hair grow long and I like it.

However, in spite of the color, I do today, look like one of those long green onions with the white peeled knobs, because the woman has managed to plaster my hair to my head. Ah well. It’s humbling.

To further mortify myself I go out in public to an art demo meeting and to the grocery store and I look like hell. The hair is divine but I don’t look so good in it. Thank god I’m not a teenager as I might hang myself.

All of the above (and even more!) is why you haven’t heard from me on my blog, for awhile. When I start getting emails from you and you are saying, “Oh Venus, are you OK? You haven’t written a blog for awhile so I’m starting to worry,” I think, “Dang. Do they really want to know what I’m doing? Or, are they being kind? Do they really want to know that there is now a green onion on Face Book and that they know her?!”

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THE DEAR VENUS RADIO SHOW

Oh my. What a mess it was this past Tuesday. There were problems at the studio and my voice kept doubling back on me and it almost drove me mad. I had to push the headphones on top of my head so I couldn’t hear the feedback. Then I got dropped from the show! But, things finally cleared up and I did readings over the air. However, by that time, because of angst and frustration, I had knocked my forehead on my desk several times which may have made my connection with The Beings better or worse, I’m not sure. Tech problems are to be expected with a new show and all should be mainly good from now on.

I do give away a FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION with me, on every live show. You can hear the shows for FREE in the ARCHIVES and you have a week to check and see if YOU were the winner. (The live show also has a live chat room where you can gather during the show, that I hear is lots of fun.)

LIVE SHOW EVERY TUESDAY at 1PM Pacific/4 PM Eastern. “The Dear Venus Show” with Venus Andrecht. www.contacttalkradio.com

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NEXT FLOW DREAMING TELE-CLASS WITH VENUS AND SUMMER, APRIL 26TH, 2009  For Abundance and Prosperity and All Good Things.

This is where I work on a wish especially for you and Summer takes you and the wish into The Flow.

For lots of testimonials and to read about and or, sign up for the class, go to www.flowdreaming.com ……………………………………………………………………………….

PRIVATE PHONE READINGS WITH VENUS

For what I do and my rates please go to www.godisalwayshappy.com and look on the Home Page

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*WINNER OF A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS:  *Liza Zanoni* Offer good through April 22nd, after that null and void.

X0 Venus

Wrong Shoe/Right Hat/Spaghetti Breast

Tuesday, March 24th, 2009

“Are you coming up town?”

My ex-boyfriend Bill, the one who lives in my studio apartment, calls me from his work. He’s been at the bank for two hours now and I wonder why he’s asking me if I am coming up town. I’m suspicious and as it turns out, I have a right to be.

“Well,” he continues, “…..I just noticed that I wore two different pairs of shoes to work.”

I’m quiet, soaking in the picture.

“Well, OK, so it happens, ” he says. “I need you to go in my room and find a black shoe with laces. Get the Tom McCan one, I have to match it with the other shoe on my right foot. So, get the left foot, would you?”

I start laughing. And laughing. I snort through the rest of the phone call where I promise to bring him a matching shoe.

I run out to Bill’s place and root around in his shoes. Grabbing the one he wants, I run into my house and find my housekeeper. Isabel doesn’t speak any English but when I pantomime Bills’ trouble and shake the shoe in the air, Isabel gets it. She laughs and laughs as she waves and shakes a blue duster in the air.

On my way up to the bank to salvage Bill’s reputation, I stop to see my mother. I have to tell someone Bill’s hilarious news.

I say, “Guess what Mom! Bill wore two different shoes to work and he didn’t even notice it for two hours!!”

I’m jerking and grinning and giggling and ha ha ha-ing.

Mom looks and me and says thoughtfully, “…..I’ve done that.”

“Oh geez Mom, you would.”

Mom doesn’t see the humor.

“You and Bill are just alike. I don’t know where you two live in your heads.”

I sigh and mumble, “Dang, a good story wasted.”

My mother has recently dropped a heavy load of books on her left foot which has laid her up for days. When my brother in law calls to tell me she’s done this, he shouts, “Do you know what has happened to your mother!!?”

I say, “No. I don’t.”

Ron sounds exasperated and says, ‘I thought not!’ …….and hangs up.

Which leaves me to wonder, ‘what happened to my mother?

I have to call back and have a sister tell me. Ron hadn’t bothered to tell me because once again, Mother hadn’t bothered to mention something of note. She just doesn’t notice things that other people might think are extreme, like strokes and lung cancer, which she has had and which passed by with little comment from her.

Since I’m here at Mom’s we might as well have tea. Mom is in the tea leaf reading ‘biddness’ now. At least, she thinks she is. She is almost 87 years old and has been insisting she needs a job for years now.

A few weeks ago she was asked to read tea leaves at the local Historical Society’s Tea. My sister Barbara helped her pack up her tea pot, leaves and the *tea leaf reading book she wrote, watched her dress in one of her usual odd outfits and drove her to the party.

When I arrived later at the Society, there was Mom, sitting at one of the tables with about six ladies, reading their fortunes in a cup. She was wearing her red velour pants, her blue plastic gardening shoes, a little yellow sweater with spaghetti dried on the breast of it and an old brown jogging jacket. On her head was a magnificent glossy creme colored silk version of a large mixing bowl draped with huge beige flowers, pale netting and pearls.

As I popped into the room, I noticed three tables of women at full attention as Mother was reading one of the guest’s tea cup. The lady appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, with thick dark hair, full red lips and a giant hatted head full of stuffed spotted birds and colored chiffon.

“Oh…” Mother was saying as she peered intently into the cup, “ummmm…I see a man! He’s a handsome man with dark hair and he has lots of money. I see that you have been going on trips with this man and it’s a very tempestuous, passionate relationship.”

Mother looks up into the woman’s eyes as all the other women gasp delightedly, titter and ‘oh’ and ‘ah.’ The lady in question looks pleased and demure.

Mom stares back into the cup and continues, “yes, he’s very rich and he has a well known position in local  society, and oh my, he’s married!”

The room erupts with startled and happy shrieks and Mother looks pleased. She must be doing a fine job. The guest snatches her cup back and manages a wan smile.

“Let’s read someone else’s cup,” I say as I trot over to Mom.

Everybody wants their cup read. Apparently, Mother has proved herself.

Later, the woman with the married boyfriend asks me if I can bring Mother to read leaves at her next function and someone else from another table tells me she wants my mother to come to her party, too.

Mother is in business. She’s officially in the tea leaf reading business.  Mom tells me later that I am her business agent.

Just what I need. Another job. I can see myself driving an almost 90 year old spaghetti breasted tea leaf reader dressed in gardening shoes and an enormous, flapping, flopping hat, all over the county. Heck, maybe I can get her on Oprah and then I will really have a big job.

*My mother’s book (It’s how to read tea leaves) is “Tea Leaf Tales” by Margaret McWhorter. $10 plus $6.00 Priority Mail.  Mail your request to Margaret at 3601 Main St. Ramona, CA 92065

(You see, I am acting like a business manager, already!)

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TESTIMONIALS from Venus’ Private Phone Sessions:

“Thanks for the time you gave me yesterday. It helped me and has cleared my mind and I feel better and am ready to take the necessary action to move my life.”

Y.N.

“I did what you told me to do and I let go and let GOD…and today I was accepted for an apartment and I move in on Saturday. Thank you!!! For all your positive energy that you sent me, I believe it had a lot to do with me getting a place to live.”

P.V.

(For my phone rates and how I work, please go to my Home Page. www.godisalwayshappy.com)

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FLOW DREAMING TELE-CLASSES WITH VENUS AND SUMMER  April 26th, 2009

Flow Testimonial:

Venus, remember that my wish was to get a new job and get out of debt?

(After the class I got a job!) where I have the chance to make MORE money each year than I used to make at the bank. It will be much less stressful and lots of fun. So…we manifested my wish in less than 1 week and only 3 days after taking the tele-class.

YOU WALK ON WATER!! Thanks from the bottom of my heart!!

Mary Jean

*Next Tele-Class is APRIL 26TH, 2009  For Wealth, Prosperity and Abundance.

To read many more testimonials and sign up for the next class, please go to: www.flowdreaming.com

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THE DEAR VENUS SHOW MOVES TO ANOTHER RADIO STATION

and ***changes time*** to 1:00 PM Pacific/4 PM Eastern:

Starting April 7th, The Dear Venus Show will air live, every TUESDAY at 1:00 PM Pacific/4 PM Eastern. www.contacttalkradio.com

Venus is on EVERY WEEK, with fewer commercials, Free On Air Readings, Free Archived Shows, Pod Casts, ITunes, and a winner is chosen each live show for a free 15 minute private phone session with Venus.

The First Show is April 7th, 2009 at 1:00 PM Pacific/4 PM Eastern. See you there???

*THE SHOW CALL IN NUMBER TO TALK TO VENUS FOR THE US AND CANADA IS 1-877-230-3062. International callers, dial your country’s international code for the USA than dial 425 644 5620.

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*WINNER OF A FREE 15 PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS IS: *catherine verge

Offer is valid through March 30th, 2009. After that, null and void

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What Happened At Venus’ Laughing Club Party!

Thursday, February 12th, 2009

 

Everyone's backends. Mom has the white hair. My sister Barbara is in front of the girl in the green t-shirt.

Everyone's backends. Mom has the white hair. My sister Barbara is in front of the girl in the green t-shirt.

My Cousin Laura stands up and says she wants to talk. My Cousin Laura? The ‘quiet’ cousin?

 

This happens after all twenty-five of us ladies have had lots of outstandingly good home-made food and high alcohol percentage wine.

 

My Cousin Laura is in the dark pink shirt and jeans.

My Cousin Laura is in the dark pink shirt and jeans.

 

 

We expected forty people for the party but lots of ladies have suddenly gone down with the Big Flu and they are all livid about missing The Big Event.

My daughter Summer makes each person a name tag as they arrive. They have to identify themselves on the tag. For example, “Betty, Venus’s art friend #1.” “Judy, Venus’ tall friend.” “Nina, I don’t know Venus but I heard about the party.”

The phone rings. It’s Isabel. “Where is your house! I have been driving around for an hour and a half!”

We determine that her husband gave her directions and said I live 6 miles down my road and not the .6 that I put on the invitation. Isabel arrives shortly and she arrives mad. We give her a big glass of red wine.

My Cousin Laura now picks up a big cardboard box and hauls it to the center of what I call My Great Room, which includes the kitchen, sitting room, dining room and living room. 

Laura drops the box on the wooden floor with a thud.

“Well,” she says, “I’m going to show you what my family gets me for Christmas every year. I am very particular and they are afraid of me and my reactions to Christmas presents. They know I like a certain kind of bathrobe. It must have a high collar, and have a belt that is sewn into the back as part of the robe.”

She hauls a light pink robe out of the cardboard box and puts it on, to demonstrate.

“Now, this is my favorite robe and it is just to my specifications. It has the high color, the built in tie and it is the right length and it fits. It’s also the right material.”

Laura turns in a circle to give us the full view. 

“The problem is, it is very old and it’s falling apart. So,” she says, “here is what my husband and two daughters do every year. They try and find me the perfect new robe.”

She leans over and pulls another robe from the box. She puts it on. 

“You see,” she says, “the collar is wrong. It lies flat. And the belt isn’t part of the material. It just won’t do.”

Laura pulls the robe off and hauls another from the box. She puts it on and demonstrates it’s defects. It’s too short, the color is poor and it’s not well made. She throws it back and pulls out another. And another. She puts every robe on that date from at least six or seven Christmases.

“Ah ha,” she finally says, “now look at this one they got me this year. It’s almost right.”

Laura puts on the latest robe. It’s a light pink, it’s the ‘right’ material, the belt is sewn in as part of the robe and the collar stands up around her neck.

“But look!” she says with exasperation. “It hits just below my knees and it zips up from the bottom!”

She zips it up to demonstrate. 

“I hate it!” she says.

Summer shouts, “I’ll take it!”

And another woman hollers, “I bid higher!”

Laura looks at both women with disgust. 

“Watch this,” she says. She starts to walk. The robe is too narrow when it is zipped and she has to take mincing steps like a geisha.

The women roar with laughter.

Laura thrusts all the defective robes back in the box and leaves the ’stage.’

My sister Candy stands up. “OK, she says, “Venus wants me to tell some Grandma Stories. This is our mother’s mother.” She points to our Mom sitting as close as she can to the center of all of us. She can’t hear much, so she tries to read all our lips.

 

Candy is in pink on the left.

Candy is in pink on the left.

 

 

“I never knew Grandma when she was alright. The entire time I knew her, she was basically out of her mind. She had had many strokes. But she was the sweetest, funniest woman. She was very thin and had long white hair that she kept braided into two long braids and then wrapped over her head. She had a ton of wrinkles because she had lived in the desert most of her life. She was in her 80’s when I was a teenager and she and our grandfather, Lancaster lived on the property with our folks. They had their own little cottage, with a porch, right next door to us.”

Candy pauses and looks at our mother.

“Well, Mom was always saying to my brother Art and me, ‘It’s time for you and Art to go over and check on Grandma and Lancaster.’

“Venus started calling our grandfather Lancaster because they lived in lancaster California when Venus was little.”

“We checked on those two in the morning, late morning, afternoon and evening and in between because you never knew what they might be up to. Grandma thought Lancaster had a girlfriend named Billie Jo! She thought that because she found a nightgown of “Billie Jo’s” hanging in their closet. Of course, it was Grandma’s nightgown! But, one night when we went to check on them she had Lancaster cornered in the closet and she was menacing him with a butcher knife because of his relationship with that woman. So you can see why we had to watch things.”

Everybody gasps.

“So, OK, this one time, Art and I go over to see how the old folks are doing. It’s close to noon and Lancaster is sitting on the porch smoking marijuana and watching the cars drive by on the road. Oh, I guess you want to know why he was smoking grass in his 80’s? Because of my brothers, of course. One Christmas they gave him some. They said it would help relax him, which he needed because he lived with Grandma. You see he didn’t realize she wasn’t alright in the head. He just thought she was difficult. Anyway, so we go over to the cottage and we say, ‘Hi Lancaster, where’s Grandma?’

“He says, ‘Oh leave ‘er alone!’  ’Well, where is she?’ we say. Lancaster says “She’s fine. leave her be!’

“OK, so Art and I look at each other and take two seats on the porch. Art lights up some grass with Lancaster. About 15 minutes go by. I say, 

‘I think I should go check on Grandma.’ Lancaster gets irate. ‘Leave her be!!’ ‘No, really,’ I say, ‘ I think I better go see what she’s up to.’

Lancaster snorts.

“Lancaster is a great guy. A lovely man. He was a handsome marine when Grandma met him and he’s still handsome, but gnarled up and stiff with arthritis from a bad car accident a few years back. When referring to his condition he always says, ‘I’m all stove up.’ He and Grandma have had a long and love filled relationship that has lasted well into her dementia, but lately, it is becoming just too much for the man to deal with.

“I get up off the chair and go looking for Grandma. 

“She’s not in the house. That’s odd. 

“I walk out the back door and into Lancaster’s tomato patch and a plot of grass.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe it. There’s a lawn chair, one of those long chaise lounge kind of things, the ones strung with plastic ribbon type bands …and Grandma is FOLDED UP IN IT. It has totally collapsed and all I can see are her two little legs sticking out through the top of it, with those black old lady shoes with laces, her legs and shoes pointing to the sky and waving in the air!

“Lancaster must have seen it happen and he chose to let her hang out here while he took a little rest from her, out on the porch, smoking a doobie.”

The group of women go crazy with laughter, especially after Candy assures them that she unfolded Grandma from the chaise lounge and Grandma had just said, “Well, hello my darling,” with a big smile. 

Then Candy launches into the time when she was a teenager, and so easily embarrassed, when she took Grandma for a little drive. She stopped up town at our local gas station, and you have to remember that our town had maybe 3500 people then and we all knew each other.

“I told Grandma I had to go to the phone booth and make a call and...not… to… get… out.. of… the.. car!

 ”After a few minutes on the phone I turned around and there was Grandma, out of the car and wandering off to somewhere. I dropped the phone and ran after her yelling, ‘Get back in the car! Get back in the car!’ and she started screaming, ‘She’s kidnapping me! Oh, help! She’s kidnapping me!’ and the young guy that pumped the gas was just looking at me and I shouted at him to never mind her, just never mind!!

“I had to drag the woman back to the car and she kicked her heels into the pavement and yelled and made me drag her by the arms and her big old red coat kept falling off and and it was so humiliating for a teenager to have to do this in front of a young good looking guy!”

“I finally got her in the car and locked all the doors and I said, ‘I am never taking you for a drive, again!’ and Grandma looked at me with love and said sweetly, “Where are we going now my darling?”

Everybody is hysterically at the party. Candy tells a few more Grandma stories but than she has to give the floor to Lu.

Lu is in her 70’s. She has white hair that merges abruptly into red. She’s dressed today in a Charger’s football outfit and looks three times bigger than she really is. She lives down the road from me. She says, “Well, I like to do my chores naked. So, this one time I was riding the tractor, naked. I had just finished digging a long deep trench when what do I see but a service man driving up my road in his big truck. He musta’ seen me naked on the tractor..well, I know he did, because all of a sudden he lost control of the truck and drove it right inta’ the ditch! And he couldn’t get it out.”

We are all screaming with delight at this picture, which encourages Lu.

“Another time, I was building a stone wall, and I was naked of course. I like to do all my chores naked. So, I look behind me and here is my neighbor, a man, coming up the drive in his big truck and by golly…he drove into that same ditch and he couldn’t get his truck out either…you know…that neighbor man never comes over anymore.”

Lu looks very satisfied.

A woman named Sally leans over to me and nods her head toward a woman named Diane. Diane lives way down the road from me. She comes from Europe where she was a journalist at the United Nations. She is a big name in our area now as she works for Good Causes. 

Sally whispers, “Did you know that Diane often goes out and moons the marines when they fly over her house in their helicopters? She doesn’t like them coming over her house way out there in nowhere.”

Another friend says, “What is it with you women on this street? You all go naked so much!” She looks pointedly at me.

“Well,” I say, “that is odd isn’t it? And did you know that there used to be a nudist colony right down the road around the bend? It was here when I was a kid and one day they had a big fire over there and the fire planes dropped pink fire retardant and for weeks you could tell who the nudists were!”

The party keeps going like this. One lady tells an awful story about a dead cat and she is shouted down and sent back to her seat.

Finally, late in the afternoon, we seem to be all worn out. Lots of food, lots of wine and lots of laughter and it’s all been done for our good health, of course.

So, we are exhausted but stunningly healthy and we all go home, stuffed with cookies and lasagna and wine and laughter.

 

Venus' art room, where I broadcast my radio shows.

Venus' art room, where I broadcast my radio shows.

 

 

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Remember this SATURDAY’S TELE-CLASS ON VALENTINE’S DAY. I will be working on your WISHES for LOVE  and will send you MY MOTHER’S LOVE MOJO which packs a heavy punch, and sometimes a surprising one! Summer will put you INTO THE FLOW FOR LOVE. There are a few ’seats’ left. Please go to  www.flowdreaming.com to read about the class Feb 14th 2009 and how you can join us. 

*March 7th 2009 we have another Flow Tele-Class for Money, Prosperity and All Good Things.

Some of my art.

Some of my art.

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Just a reminder, I do PRIVATE PHONE SESSIONS. I am telepathic, clairsentient, clairaudient and clairvoyant and I am an empath. I also work with with Good Energies, sent to you from what I call the High Beings…Please go to www.godisalwayshappy.com and look under ’sessions with venus’ to read about what I do and my rates.

*You can also listen to part of a CD on my site, where I transcribe some of what The High Beings have told me. www.godialwayshappy.com

My bedroom.

My bedroom.

****2 WINNERS: *I am now drawing TWO NAMES for free 15 minute sessions, during each Radio Show.  Listen to “Dear Venus”at  Hayhouseradio.com every other Weds 9AM Pacific/12 noon Eastern. The shows are archived and you have one week to find your name  and contact me at tovenus@earthlink.net.

The sitting room in my bedroom.

The sitting room in my bedroom.


****2 MORE WINNERS: *I am now drawing TWO NAMES  from your email addresses, each time I write a blog. The winners this time are:

Sandy Flowers and Anita Mutz. This offer is valid through Feb 18th, 2009. After that, offer is null and void. 

One of my paintings: Blueberry Pie.

One of my paintings: Blueberry Pie.

The Laughing Club Party

Tuesday, January 20th, 2009

Welcome to my Laughing Club Party.

I have decided that we all need a laugh. To that end, here is the note I have sent out to my family and various friends:

“Please come to THE WOMEN’S LAUGHING CLUB PARTY at Venus’ house, Jan 31st, 2009 at 11:30 AM.

“Let’s get together and laugh and laugh and laugh for our GOOD HEALTH and FRIENDSHIP!

“Please bring a dish (potluck) and something to drink. Wine would be nice but you can bring whatever moves you.

THE PLAN: We will eat and drink and whoop it up. For those of you who aren’t shy, please have a STORY in mind; something that has happened in your life or someone else’s life that is really funny! You will tell the tale and we will laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. We will roll on the floor and laugh some more. We will kick the furniture and spill the wine.

“And, then we will laugh some more for no reason at all.

“This is an all woman party, just to see how it goes. If we like it, let’s have more of them and often, hosted by whoever feels fit enough to host a bunch of crazy acting, loose laughing women!

“Please RSVP by Jan. 27th, so I know how many chairs and plates to set out that may get broken.

“I hope to see you!

Venus”

…………….

Well. I have had a tremendous response. People are calling me and saying, ‘Oh, my friend wants to come, she desperately wants to come, can I bring my friend?’

I say ’sure. What the hey.’

My brother Art with the leukemia, the one who’s car got smashed and who’s house burned down, says he wants to come, that he needs the laugh. I say “OK, you do need some laughs, but if you come  you have to wear a dress and a lady’s wig. You can be our Honorary Woman.”

My friend Karen in Florida, demanded that I send her the invitation, then called me and said, “I love it! I am already calling people to have a Laughing Club Party at my house!”

Maybe we will have Laughing Club Parties all over the world?? What fun.

I’m going to start my party with this story, which I admit is really juvenile humor, but that’s part of the fun, right?

I’ll be telling the ladies, “Awhile back a friend of mine named Billy came over to see me at my house. He’s about fifty. He called me to come out on the front lawn beside my pool.

“He sidled up next to me, leaned over and whispered, “Got something really funny here. It’s a fart machine.”

“He glanced over at my pool where Paul The Pool Man was busily scooping leaves. He was scooping slowly. He doesn’t like to rush. He’s a big man, maybe in his 60’s with a great ruff of gray beard and flying head hair and he wears faded overalls with a bib.

‘Got an idea,’ Billy said, grinning like a nine year old. ‘This is remote control.’

“He carefully held up some kind of small box and something that looked like a TV clicker.

“Paul had his back to us, scooping the pool and gazing up into the great pine tree, the tree he has come to hate, that hangs over the water.

“‘Watch this,’ Billy whispered.

“He ran over to the grouping of deck chairs just behind Paul, put the fart box under a cushion and skeedaddled back to me.

“‘Hehehehe…watch.’

“Paul The Pool Man bent to scoop some twigs from the water by hand.

“FARRRRRRT…OOOOOHEEEE…PTU!”

“Billy had pushed the remote.

“Paul didn’t blink. He didn’t even look our way.

“Billy and I broke into screeching laughter.

“Paul leaned to the side and put the pool pole down.

“BBAAAARRRPH!”

“Billy and I collapsed with howling glee.

“Actually, I’d hit the grass ‘first fart’ and couldn’t get up. Whenever I laugh, my legs go weak and I collapse wherever I am. I can’t get off the ground until I stop laughing.

Billy and I were choking with laughter, roaring with mirth and silly merriment but again, Paul The Pool Man never even looked our way.

“FAAARRRP! WHEEEEE!”

Every time Paul made an adjustment in his methods, he passed thunderous ‘gas.’

I was screaming with laughter, my nose face down in the dirt and muck, unable to even crawl to my knees. Billy was dragging me by an arm, across the lawn, trying to get me to stand up.

Paul looked skyward.

It went like this until Billy and I finally tired ourselves out, gave up and limped into the house.”

………

Well, OK, maybe it will be funnier when I tell it in person? Maybe I should wait until the general hilarity at the party has taken hold?

My sister, Candy, will be telling some Grandma Stories. These are true tales about my mother’s mother that just rip us to pieces with hysteria whenever she retells them at family parties.She does the voice, she does the mannerisms, she does the body movements of everyone in the stories and we absolutely almost choke ourselves laughing. Candy should be on stage.

I’ve been telling the ladies that are coming to the Laughing Party that if they have pee problems when they laugh that they had better make sure and wear their diaper pants. They have assured me that they will.

“You’re not ruining my furniture,” I tell them.

Gee! I wish YOU could come to my party!

Do you have any funny stories about yourself or your friends that you can tell us? If so, please put them in the ‘comments’ section (below) so we can all laugh together and have our own world-wide Laughing Party!

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*WINNER OF A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS: *Ernest Brenner* Offer valid through Fri. Jan 23rd, 2009, after that null and void.

We’re All In This Together…Wherever That Is

Sunday, December 28th, 2008

It’s a sunny Sunday and we’re at the coffee shop. There are six of us, all art friends. We’re sitting at one of those high round tables, eating fancy bread and drinking tea.

Pat the oil painter, looks at the rest of us girls and the lone fellow and says, “I need your help. I think something must be wrong with me.”

The six of us lean toward Pat, concerned.

Pat is a wonderful and well known painter. She is also rather quiet and reserved in manner so we don’t have any clue as to what the problem might be.

“You know Joe G.” she says.

Of course we do. He is a very famous wild life painter who lives up in the mountains.

“Well,” Pat says, “I was in the grocery store the other day and I saw him over by the vegetables. I trotted over to say hello. He looked great, you know in that long white pony tail he has and the short gray beard and he was wearing a really bright, red shirt.

I leaned toward him and I said, and I can’t believe I said this, but I said, ‘You look so…’ and I meant to say Christmasy, you know, because of his beautiful red shirt, but what I said was…”

Pat pauses and we wait.

“What I said was, ‘you look so…chicken.’ !!”

We all gasp.

“Yes!” Pat is practically crying, “Yes. I said ‘you look so…chicken.’ And, I don’t know why I said that. And, I don’t know where that word came from. I meant to say Christmasy!

“Joe got all upset with me and he said, ‘You think I look… chicken??’

He was clearly angry about it and I just stood there and looked at him and then I took a few steps back. I mean, I didn’t know how to explain why I had called him a chicken. I had no reason. So, I was mute.

“He kept saying, ‘I look chicken?’

Pat looks at us, pleading. ” Help me…What’s wrong with me? Do you think there is something wrong with me?”

I have my head down on the table. I am laughing so hard I have almost dunked my head in my tea and in the bread plate. All the other ladies and the fellow are laughing, too. And whooping.

When we all calm down a bit, we try and reassure her.

The man friend sitting next to me says that once he was getting ready to lead a group of fifty people on a motorcycle ride into the desert.  He was the head man and all the other cyclists were behind him, waiting for him to start up.

But, when it came time to lead them across the flats he says he couldn’t remember how to start his motorcycle.

“I’d had that motorcycle for years and I could start it in my sleep, but for some reason I couldn’t remember how to start it then. I tried and tried and tried. Finally, I looked behind me and all those people had turned their motorcycles around and left.”

Judy tells us how she came home from grocery shopping, brought all the food in from the car and put it away. Then, she sat down and had a cup of tea. Finally, her husband looked at her and said, “So, when are you going to turn the car off?”

I relate how about ten years ago, a man friend was at my house busily working on a lap top computer.

“I said, ‘So, when did you get that computer?’

“He looked at me strangely. ‘It’s your computer,’  he said. ‘You bought it several weeks ago.’

‘Get off it! I did not,’ I replied.

“He looked scared.

“‘Yes….you….did,’ he said.

“I went over and looked at that laptop up close. I touched it. I even smelled it. I had no memory of that computer. At all.

“Than I was scared!

“Well, it’s been ten years since that happened and I haven’t seemed to have regressed into senility, so I don’t know how to explain that lapse.”

…….

Maybe as artists, we have all been smelling too much paint?

Or, maybe the truth is, that all of us, all people, live in different worlds? We’re each off in our heads, in our own reality somewhere and it doesn’t always jibe with what everybody else agrees is ‘real’? And, maybe sometimes when we are trying to function ‘here’ we are really only half here…or we are just some kind of phantom of ourselves, operating without ‘us’?

If it’s not Alzheimer’s, it’s a puzzle.

What do you think?

*By the way, I love it when you leave your comments directly on this blog. I do read and personally answer all your comments through my email. (Sometimes I get behind, but eventually, I answer.) Some of you are so astute and some of you are so much fun that it is a waste of your talent to not amuse everyone who reads the blog. And, I love all the compliments, too! Thank you for reading.   Venus

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**WINNER OF A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS       * Judith Beverly*  Offer good through Dec. 31, 2008. After that null and void.