This is from the poet Melanie…it’s terrific

Mom…a very belated thank you.

My mother was a wee thing.  She was about five feet three, maybe four inches tall and she was, um, compliant and a push over.  She did what she could to keep things calm and running as smoothly as possible, which wasn’t easy, since my Italian father was demanding and selfish and I was, to use her own words, “A brat.”  Anyway,  she fed my father, which did absolutely nothing to add a single pound to his lean frame, but it kept him sleepy and contained. Believe me when I say dinner was on the table the second the garage door went up.  He came in, washed his hands and sat down to eat.

My father never raised a hand to my mother.  I never saw him do anything to her that would even suggest violence. He wouldn’t think of hitting a woman, an animal, or child, other than me.  He went for me now and then, because I drove him insane, when he actually recognized that I was there, that is, but my tiny mother  (my father was six feet three inches tall), would jump in front of him, hold her arms out to the side, usually in a doorway, and say, “RUN.”  I ran.  So, he never got me.  Came close once, but my mother and his sister stopped him.  I stayed away from him, not because I was afraid of him, I wasn’t,  I stayed away from him because I couldn’t stand him and he knew it.

But I was cleaning today and thinking about all the women I know who were beaten and hurt by their fathers and I suddenly realized that my mother protected me with her entire being.  She never would have let him touch me.  She wasn’t afraid of him and she would have done anything to stop him from hitting me.  I never understood that.  She never stood up to him, never, even when I begged her to do so.  But for me, she put her body in front of him and said, “NO!”  How could I not have understood that before today?  She was so small, compared to him. I could see him standing over her, his face filled with anger, his hands balled into fists and she would not move. She knew he wouldn’t hit her, but it didn’t matter, not really, she would do anything to stop him from hitting me.  I never thanked her for that.  I just ran out of the house, or upstairs to my grandmother’s and locked the door, until he calmed down.  It didn’t happen often, maybe just a few times, over the years, because I wouldn’t even sit in the same room he was in, so I rarely saw him.   Yet every single morning, he came into my bedroom, while I was still asleep, and woke me when he kissed me on the cheek before he went to work.

My mother told me that he changed after I was born.  He didn’t like having her attention taken away from him, so basically, he was just jealous.  Whatever.

But my wee mom, standing in front of my furious father was really something to see, for the two seconds that I saw them, before I ran away.  I’ll thank her next time I see her and I’m sure we’ll both laugh about it, because it was funny, at least to me, and then she’ll be on her own, because if she ever comes back with him, I won’t be with her to see it.  I told him that when he was dying.  I know he heard me, even if he was unconscious.  Never coming back with him again.

Anyway, mom was tougher than I thought/remembered and now I see her wearing a superhero cape, pushing big guys around and saving the world.  Yeah, I think she could do that.  She could save the world.  You don’t have to be big to take a stand.  You just have to know the right thing to do and then do it.

 

Crone…

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Quote by:  Lee Hutch
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Harley Quinn…

One of the things I like about Harley Quinn is her LOVE for animals.  Well that and she’s crazy and tough as nails.

Harley Quinn…Volume 1

Love the artwork.  A couple of the stories…not so much.

Suzi Sparks…

Bill Borden was a bad kid.  He broke Jessica’s glasses, let the air out of Alice’s bike tires and dognapped Cindy Kline’s poodle and kept her in his bedroom for three days before his parents heard her barking and scratching at the door.  He poured paint into Clarissa’s purse and cut the back of Kathy’s hair during English. Bad.  Billy was a bad kid.

Billy was a small boy with brown hair and brown eyes. He had a smattering of freckles and would have been cute, if he wasn’t so mean.  He stomped on lunch bags and knocked books out of hands.  He even tore up homework and set the clocks ahead in classrooms, so he could get out early.  Okay, no one really minded about the clocks, but still.

Suzi Sparks was the new girl in school.  She had blond hair, gray eyes, and she came from a tough neighborhood, in a tough city.  She didn’t like the suburbs and was hoping that her parents would see the light and move back to her old neighborhood, so she could get on with her life.  Some of the girls in the new school were nice and but the classes were boring and so was everything else in la la land.

She was standing by her locker, wondering how to get back to their old apartment, when Billy pushed her aside and broke the lock on her locker.   Suzi smiled at him.  “I’ll meet you in the park after school, at four,” she said sweetly.

“I’ll be there but I bet you won’t be,” laughed Billy, as he walked away, tossing her broken lock into the trash.

“What’s wrong with you?” hissed Elizabeth, who had overheard the conversation.  “Don’t meet him anywhere.  Stay away from him, he’s awful.”

“I’ll be okay, don’t worry,” said Suzi.  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning in math.”

Suzy went home, fed the cat, ate a couple of cookies, changed her clothes and left the house.  The sun was shining and the birds were singing, it was a perfect day.  She could see Billy sitting on a bench, as she walked up the lane.

“What are YOU supposed to be?” he asked, laughing.

“I’m not supposed to BE anything.  I AM a superhero,” she said calmly.

“Wearing a cape doesn’t make you a superhero,” he snickered,  “it just makes you look stupid.  Should I be afraid?  Are you going to turn me into a toad?” he said, wiggling his fingers at her.

“No, not a toad,” said Suzi, matter of factly.  “I have something different planned for you.”

“Oh, really?” he sneered.  “Let’s see whatcha got, then, you and your cape.”

There was a tiny glitch in the air and then Billy started screaming.  “What did you do to me?” he shrieked, running his hands over his body.  “What did you do?”

“Oh, get over yourself,” sighed Suzi.  “It’s no big deal.  I just turned you into a girl. I noticed that you never bully boys, so I thought you might like to see what it’s like to be on the other side.  It’ll be good for you,” she said, walking away.  “You’ll see.”

 

Harley Quinn on my kitchen table…

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Why we need female superheroes…(2 photographs)

WONDER WOMAN

picture from: Free Clip Art

Female superheroes can save the world, take care of themselves, think, plan, act, be independent, kick-ass, stand alone, fight back, work together, be strong, get the bad guys, generally take care of business and be brave.  Positive images of females standing on their own two feet, and taking names, is empowering for females of ALL ages. Female superheroes don’t need to be rescued and carried around by their men, they have each other’s backs.

We need strong role models for girls, so they grow up to be confident, intelligent and ready to take on whatever comes their way.

Here’s some good new…Toys R Us just put out this brand new line of FEMALE SUPERHEROES for girls.  The Superheroes are wonderful. There’s Wonder Woman, Bat Girl, Super Girl, and many more. Prices vary, depending on size of the superhero.  The thing is…if you don’t buy them, these wonderful toys for girls will disappear.  If girls are not TAUGHT about the strong females who save the world, companies will stop making them.  It’s up to US to make sure that strong, clever, brilliant females are represented and available to girls.  If we don’t want it to be a male dominated world then WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.  This is a step in the right direction.