Is It a Man's World?

So Pretty Lady You Want To Be A Man?

By Janeal Mulaney

How do you answer a question like that? Well if you are a woman and you work in the construction field, you first need a thick skin and a quick wit. I found this out a long time ago, and both have served me well. I count the man who asked me that question among my friends, and that question is still the way, many construction workers think. After all you are walking into a domain, which has been basically held by men for centuries. So why should they change their attitudes to deal with you?

Sexual harassment, they consider you being there as sexual harassment. After all fifty years ago they started working in this field so they could say anything about their wives, and females in general, without having to sensor their tongues and thoughts. Now you are invading their space, where they can let loose their outrage, desires and some even their fantasies, whatever you want to call them. Now they are told they can no longer speak their minds, say certain wards, or act the same as they once did. Why, because it may offend some woman. Their idea of it is, if you can’t stand the heat get off the job site, we didn’t ask you to go to work here. They’re right! They didn’t, ladies you filled out that job application, so instead of taking everything to heart, grow a thick skin. You will gain their respect, and become their friend instead of their judge.

Yes, there will be some men and women that no matter, who will not like you for whatever the reason, but that happens in all work places. My suggestion is learn to avoid, or ignore the men and women you don’t get along with. Respect the men and women you do. (If you notice I added women to this part, because I’ve run into women on constructions sites that did not like me, after all it is not just a man’s world anymore.) Prove you are not there, just for eye candy, but you are willing to get the job done in the least amount of time. Work just as hard, if not harder. Have a witty comeback for all the stupid questions they ask, or the things they say and do, after all you work with them, get their point of view on the stupid things your spouse or boyfriends come up with.

Think of them as a co-worker first, person second, friend third, and a man or woman last. Now I’ll tell you the answer to that question. So pretty lady you want to be a man?

“Yeah and you are my role model for becoming one, so when I grow up, I can be just like you.”

We have been friends from that day on. Yes I worked hard, I showed him respect and he showed me respect. We laughed, we joked and we talked about family, home, health, religion, and yes, even politics. I no longer work for the company, but we still call and keep in touch.

Ladies in construction can and will work, but women need to do their part to get along, as well as the men do.

We're Running Away

We’re Running Away


By Janeal Mulaney



As a mom you have thousands of humorous, sad, wonderful, and scary moments, after all much like the Tammy Wynette song goes, ‘Kids do say the darndest things,’ and what they don’t think to say, they think to do. So part of a mother’s job is to be quick on her feet and have an even faster wit, or come up with a reasonable answer for any strange question in which her children can think up. Mothers have to have a great sense of humor, a firm hand and a loving touch. These are the three things I learned over twenty-five years of mothering.

I could write at least three books on the things my children have come up with over the years, but today, I’m only going to write about one.

This is the story of my run away children. I had just delivered my third and last child, he was a big baby and I was told by my doctor I would have to take it easy for a few months for my body to heal. I was not allowed to lift anything larger then my baby, nor could I bend over, which was hard on the older two for they were use to mom picking them up, playing with them, and helping them pick up their toys, along with what ever else I was needed or they wanted me to do.

During this time we were living in an apartment on the second floor and since I wasn’t allowed to carry anything down the stairs, or up them. I had no choice but to stay in the apartment with all three kids, unless my husband was home too.

So one day, I had asked my wonderful children to clean up their room, not only was the room in a bigger mess two hours later, but my two beautiful children were fighting at the top of their lungs. So I put them nose-to-nose for five minutes, this always stopped the fighting for soon they were laughing at each other and themselves, but this day, after they were released they soon decided the best plan was to blame mom.

Since I was so mean, they decided they would run away from home, and go live with grandma. Being the oldest my daughter came out to tell me about their decision.

I told them if they really felt that way then by all means they should go, but once they left they couldn’t return. You will have to take everything you want with you now. She returned to their room, and I listened to them ponder how they were going to take all their toys with them, but they decided they could manage by packing them all in their little red wagon. They picked up everything they could put in the wagon, and they were ready and rearing to go. My oldest was the spokesperson once again.

“Well mommy, guess this is goodbye,” she said matter of fact.

“Yeah I guess so, have grandma call me and let me know that you’ve arrived safely, okay.”

My youngest had tears in his eyes, but never cheeped a word. He just held on to the handle of the wagon. My daughter opened the door and they moved the wagon out onto the small landing in front of our apartment, and then shut the door. I watched through the peep hold as they sat down on the first step. They had around twenty steps to walk down then turn on another small landing to get down the other twenty steps.

“If you take the front of the front of the wagon and I take the back we can go down with the wagon,” my oldest said.

“No you take the front and I’ll that the back, I don’t want to climb down the stairs backwards.” My little boy said.

“Well neither do I,” said my little girl.

“Just ask mommy, she can do it, and then we can be on our way.” My son said.

She opened the door, as I picked up the phone.

“Mommy can you help us take the wagon down the stairs, please.”

“Oh you’re not gone yet, I was just calling grandma to let her know that would and your brother should be arriving in three or four days.”

Her eyes looked at like saucers as they widened with each word I said.

“Three or four days!” She squealed.

“Well yeah, it might take you longer, I’m not sure how long it will take to you both to travel by foot to Lamar, it might take you longer then that. It’s about a hundred miles from here to there.” I said, calmly.

“Uh, okay,” and she stepped back out the door.

“ I went back to watch through the peep hole, while she told her brother the news.”

My three-year-old son looked up at the door with huge tears streaming down his face and said, “I don’t want to go, sissy it’s about lunch time and I’m hungry. We didn’t pack any food.

“I don’t either, I hate the dark and we don’t have a flash light either.” She said.

“Do you think mommy would let us come home?”

“I don’t know, we would have to clean our room.”

“We can do that,” he said with a smile.

“Okay, than we’ll ask.” She got up and politely knocked on the door.

“Mommy, if we promise to clean up our room, can we come back home?”

“Um, let me see, I’ll let you back in if you promise never to run away again also.” I said.

She turned towards her brother, who nodded his head and they brought back in their wagon, and silently went back into their room.

An hour later they came out, our room clean mommy. They chimed in together.

I kneeled down in front of my children and hugged and kissed both of them.

“I love all of my children. Not just your baby brother, but sometimes you are going to have to understand, I can’t do all the things right now, that you are use to me doing with you.” I said sadly, “but I did fix you some lunch are you hungry?”

They both headed for the table and I served them their favorite meal sandwiches and chips.

Cool short Stories for Halloween

A-Halloween-to-Remember


Holloween-Fright-Night


Just a couple of stories I made up about Halloween fright. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. Thanks Janeal
I am interested in all comments so don't hesitate to leave one.

Adventures of a Teenager

Adventures of Being a Teen


By Janeal Mulaney



When you’re a teenager, you do so many things without even a single thought to why you’re doing them. You dress in clothes that are popular or maybe because the style you dress in makes you stand out in front of your peers, or they make you appear like you don’t care what other teens are wearing you are going your own way. As a teen I did both, I come from a family that leaned toward the poor, rather then the rich side of middle class. So neither my parents, nor I could always afford the nicer clothes that I felt everyone else was wearing. When I bought my clothes, I made sure they would last for a long time. If I outgrew them or they sunk, I would add material onto the pant legs of some other jeans that had already given up the ghost, or patch them with some outrageous patch. Many times it was of some devil, or hearts, it mattered not to me. I was different, I was unique, my classmates probably had another word for it, but those were the words I liked to use.

About now you are asking yourself what all this has to with adventures?

Well now the adventure will start. As a teen my parents love to go to Nashville, many of you know about Fan Fare for those of you who don’t. Fan Fare was an event that lasted one week out of every year. Any normal person could go and meet the country and western singers they loved to listen too all year around. I believe its still going on, not like it was in the seventies, but I understand it is still pretty cool. I meet a lot of my favorite artist during the week each year we went. Even though during this time in my life I tended to listen to more rock and roll, then country. Any way not only did I meet country greats; I met people from all over, from different states, to different countries. I had a blast, to say the least.

One day while I was walking around in my favorite old denim shirt with the rebel flag embroidered on the back, I was approached by this man who was asking me about my affiliation with the kkk, what the heck is that. I’d never heard of it. Okay so maybe it had been mentioned in my school during history, chances was it had been. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t paying attention that day. I tended to zone out on history if it wasn’t about something I really cared about in history. I must confess there wasn’t a whole lot that I did care about history during those years.

So when I had to ask this dude what kkk stood for, I’m sure he was kind of shocked. When he said it stood for ku klux klan. I’m sure my attitude was not what he thought it would be. I laughed not ho ho ho, more like tears falling from bending over and grabbing my sides. Seriously. Did that even exist still? Reckon so, and he didn’t like it laugh about, but hey I was from Colorado, not down south, this wasn’t civil war times, this was the just past the years of men running to Canada to evade a war that they didn’t feel like going to, or I guess now it was a police action. The decade of the flower child was just ending. We weren’t at war with black people, that I knew about. My shirt had the rebel flag, so I had to be against them, right. Why, they hadn’t done me any harm. I didn’t even know very many, at the time there were only two or three families, who lived in my hometown and I like all of them. I had not been raised racist, everyone was equal to everyone else, if you didn’t get along with someone chances are their color didn’t have anything to do with it. So I took the time to explain all this to this poor misguided man.

After all I didn’t want anyone to judge me, just because I couldn’t get a tan, which was all the rage back then, so why would I judge someone else who didn’t have to even get one. I sure the man walked away more confused then I was. I’ll bet he walked for miles still trying to understand my reasoning. To a thirteen-year-old girl, I thought it made sense.

My next encounter was with a man from a different country. I don’t even remember where he said he lived, but it was the year when teens bought shirts with one or two words printed across our chest. My shirt happen to have wild mustangs running free under the picture the words “Wild Ones” were printed on it. The man was sitting on a bench and as I walked by he asked.

“Do your parents not say anything about how you dress?”

“ Well yeah, but in the end it’s my choice, I wear the clothes that I like, why?”

“I mean they don’t mind that you advertise?”

“Advertise what?” I asked confused.

“Well earlier today I saw a girl with a shirt that the word virgin was printed across it. Why would she advertise that?”

“Well first off it was just a shirt, she may or may not be a virgin, and just because she wears the shirt don’t make it so.” I informed the oriental man, as I sat down next to him.

“I do not understand this country, or your ways. In my country we pick our sister’s husband.” He stated. Who will pick your husband for you?”

“You mean you get by with that? I’ll pick my own husband. Let me ask you this, what if you don’t have a brother who picks your sister’s husband then?” I asked.

“Well her uncle or her father would pick for her.” He stated. “Women need protected brothers know what is best for them.”

“Well in my country we don’t feel woman need to be protected that much, we stand on our own feet. Just because a man will nice in the presents of you family, does not always guarantee that he will be nice when they are not around.”

“You have a high divorce rate over here, so you women must choose unwisely, right.” He stated.

“What happens if your sister does not like who you choose, and she wants a divorce from her husband?”

“That would bring disgrace to our family, she would not do that.”

“So if the guy you pick for your sister beats her, she still would not leave him because it would cause your family disgrace. Over here if we choose a man who is mean or bad after marriage, we go home to our parents and get a divorce, we’re not disgraced he is. I like our way better. I don’t have to live without options.”

The man just shook his head and I walked away.

Like I said, I had many adventures while being a teen. Some were just too cool. Others outrageous, but I thought I would share a couple of them with you. I hope you enjoyed them.

Beauty is Within the Eyes of the Beholder

Deserts and Others Scenes
Articles and Painting by Janeal Mulaney




As we walked over the hard cracked ground we saw a snake laying in the shade of a small rock. The desert was sparse of vegetation, but in the shade of the great mesas there lived signs of green in the sagebrush. We saw a few cacti’s with small dainty flowers in various colors blooming against all odds. Some people do not see the beauty, which lay throughout this dry austere land. I do see vivacious beauty, the color shades throughout the lays of landscape from golden rod, to rustic red, to deep rich brown. They all layer the mesas that stand around me. No this was not Sahara, or Saudi Arabia desert; these are the deserts of the plains in southern Colorado and northern New Mexico. Some of the mesas here were formed out from old volcanoes, while other mesas were formed from earthquakes as well as God’s loving hands.

A small tree will grow here or there, a surprise to anyone who takes time to walk upon the crusted land. Although soup weeds and cactus make up the major plant growth in these water-starved areas, there is life among the dried and crusted floor. Small scurrying animals run to hide, as my footsteps grow nearer.

As a painter I hope to bring this colorful life I see in my mind’s eye to you, as well as the beauty hidden within its barren wastelands. Maybe my mind only sees a mirage, but whatever the reason, my hand paints a tree, or a colorful bush. A lake maybe nestled with in the shadows of a hill. In the end, it is on my canvas, and something I love sharing with the world.



Number One

Number One

From the time I can remember, I have heard heart attack is the number one cause of death. Now it is cancer, or stroke, that is number one, two, or three. According to whatever the commercial on television is trying to sell you at the time. Have any of you ever actually taken a deep look into how many things you do on a daily bases that can kill you.

You wake up and put your feet on the floor. A pipe broke and your house is flooded that movement causes water to flow into an electrical outlet, death by zapped. Chances are extremely low, but that can kill you. House fire, flood, tornado, hurricane, rockslide, and an accident in a vehicle, plane or train all can kill you.

Even a fall can kill you; just walking across the street, or up the stairs can kill you. Breathing polluted air, or not breathing can, and will kill you.

So how do you keep from dying, well you could drink eight glasses of water, eat all the right foods, and never smoke. But there again, is your water source really good for you, are you drinking pure water, or is it tainted with chemicals? Are you truly eating the right foods, or are they loaded with insecticides and herbicides?

Does not smoking really prolong your life, when there are still thousands of people who live under a black cloud of air? Have you ever driven outside of L. A., New York, Chicago, or any other large city in the world, and then driven back in to that city, get real, the air is a haze of brownish black. That can’t be good for you. Have you ever been around any dust?

I’m not even going to touch on the diet drinks, and food that is suppose to be good for you. Lets check out the chemicals in the man made sugars, or soymilk. All so, can anyone tell me what is in all the vitamins and medications doctors, or so fond of prescribing?

So how do we protect ourselves from dying?

I hate to disappoint you, but nothing you say or do will keep you living, when it is your time to go. When your number is called, you will face the after life, ready or not.

Why you may ask? Because you were conceived, yes that is right folks the true number one cause of death is conception. From the second your daddy’s sperm inters your mommy’s egg you are now starting to die. You can and will die whether it is from abortion, miscarriage, or being stillborn. Even if you make it past your own birth, there are another thousand reasons you may not reach purity. Then of course there are the reckless teen years, dunk driving, suicides, and guns and knives at school. You reach adult hood thankful you lived through all that, only to find out there is thousands of other ways to die.

Don’t get me wrong prolonging you life as long as you can is wonderful. All I’m saying is don’t fret about it. Do all the great things you want to do now. Live like there may not be a tomorrow. Be happy with the life you live today. Because, you never know when your number might be the one that is called tomorrow. No matter how healthy, wealthy and wise you are, if you are reading this article it means you have been conceive and you will someday die?

Trust in the Lord to know what is best and be prepared to meet him, when your turn does come around.

Many people thought they would live until they were ready to go. It doesn’t work that way. So enjoy your life, share your love with the one you love while you can, make the best of each and every day, and when your number’s the one that is up be thankful for the life you were given.

This summer, Lamar has been briefly privileged to an array of colors, sounds, and smells, due to electrifying thunderstorms. These storms have helped to ease the heat of our summer days, while bringing moisture to the much-needed area.

During the day the temperature rises, but towards the evening we receive a brief interlude, with beautiful cloudy skies. As their fluffy white beauty turns dark gray with rain a stimulating light show blazes across the evening sky heading our way. Within the storm's climax there may be brief clearings, which bring on another wonderment to the human eye. I've caught several glimpses of the splendor that often appears within our sky, during many thunderstorms. Although the rumbling crackling thunder soon followed, and the rain and wind beat the town, a fresh and tranquil smell is left for all to enjoy.

Too often people concentrate on the dangers and havoc that are left by summer storms, so we never look for the true beauty that lies within them. The next time the weatherman predicts another thunderstorm take a moment and remember there is beauty within all things. Open your curtains and windows to watch the view and enjoy the spectacular sights that sometimes we forget to value, due to the menace and mayhem that they leave in their wake. Enjoy the special light show outside that only God can create for all to see. Let the sounds, smell and beauty bring you a new appreciation of what the world holds within its magnitude.

A Note to my Readers

I just wanted to write and apologize for not getting my story finished for Christmas. This season has been hectic to say the least, between cleaning a home we decided at the beginning of December to move into, and then moving while cleaning it has taken a lot longer then I ever expected it would. So all my writing was put on hold. I'm hoping to start catching back up in February but please bare with me if I don't get everything done in a timely manner.