Today's guests are Jessica "Jess" from La Fin Dumond Farm and Jess Mise Placed and her beautiful daughter, Wednesday. Culinary spectacular happenings at Jess Mise Placed and family farm adventures at La Fin Dumond Farm. Both well worth the follow...one of my first blog followers. We've been shaking up the blog world since our beginnings.
Crazy, fun, and very real. These two ladies tell it like it is. Mother-daughter perspective...coming to you from the Rocky Mountains...in Florida. It can happen.Great ladies with fantastic attitudes and big smiles!
Tag along with them...I guarantee you'll want to stay...
Growing up in northern Utah in the 70’s - 90’s was what one might call, the last hurrah for keeping women in the kitchen barefoot and pregnant. I was constantly asked when I was getting married and who my missionary was I was waiting for ..(because I MUST be, considering I was turning into an old maid at the ripe age of 17.)
Needless to say women weren’t high on the list of values we were all suppose to uphold. .. Which I seemed to have a difficult time doing.
Say what you will regarding your own experience there, but mine was all about how worthless I was. Thankfully my mother had a heavy dose of upstate New York hippie in her blood, so rebelling against the establishment was encouraged.
This had one of two effects on the local PoPo; they either got a good laugh at my unruly attitude or I was harassed unmercifully.
I will note, the entire time I grew up there I never once saw a female officer. NEVER. As it was I had a healthy aversion to male authority over my life. While there were a few officers that befriended me and encouraged my trying out for the boys soccer team and the like, (Girls OBVIOUSLY should NOT be playing such a thing; besides, what NORMAL girl would even want to? ...:P ) there were a few who made it their personal quest to make my life miserable for even considering it, and putting their little boys to shame when I made the team and they didn’t.
(I should probably mention I had been playing soccer since birth, and that little bit with the qualifying for the Jr. Olympics for our state in cross country in 10th grade had a lot to do with it.)
One officer in particular would wait for me to leave the school parking lot so he could pull me over for “speeding”. Which meant I was doing 15 in a 20 MPH zone because I knew he was there. We would go through the daily ritual of license, insurance, reckless driving and how he was “letting me off” .. Because I never once got ticketed. I even went so far at to ask for a ticket, because the guy was a class “A” jackass. And, unlike the other “well endowed” girls he harassed, I couldn’t bring myself to cower down to his power trip.
He was one bad apple in a barrel of many good ones. After getting sick of the ogling and suggesting I behave like a lady, I approached an officer I knew who lived next door and whom worked in the same town. I let him know about a few of the other girls who were dealing with this same guy and he was all over it. In the end none of the other girls would formally complain, but my big mouth landed him a desk job .. If I understand it right.
The waiting for me after school was just one of the many places he would pull me over. Should I be anywhere in that one streetlight town, he would find me like a bucktoothed hound dog in heat.
It created an intense distrust of men in uniform despite the numerous honorable ones who were there to help.
I don’t think it was all a matter of a bad experience with a power hungry PoPo, but simply the environment at the time. When you are a small (as in under 100 lbs. .. At the time) female in Utah during the late 80’s with boobs, hips and the inability to see yourself as less than a man, it creates turbulence. You appear to be easily intimidated, so when you don’t respond in the traditional manner, it seems it upset the balance of natural order in the state. (The natural order being a smog of masculinity that is easily threatened.) Combine this with an individual in a position of authority, and there will be a mass migration of suicidal sheep running lemming-like into a really big fan.
At this point in my life I am more comfortable, and thankful for the PoPo. I have an intense respect for what they’re willing to do. With the way this world has gone, and with the recent targeting of officers in some locations, it makes me intensely sad to see the PoPo viewed as a “them against us”, bad element. Because it’s not. I do understand how one bad encounter can tarnish your perception for years. However, I think it’s vital to remember how hard the “good guys” have to work to compensate for those few bad apples; and this with the stresses that are on our heroes in blue in this day and age.
I don’t use the word lightly; so simply ask yourself; what would our life be like if we didn’t have them around? Someone has to play the responsible adult in a world full of people who don’t want to follow the rules. These days the rules and stakes are so much higher than what I ever had to put up with.
Having a rebellious teenaged son, I can say from experience, the PoPo are good people. The majority of our folks in blue truly care, and have demonstrated that to my family time and again. I mean sure, we know every Palm Beach county officer by name, and they know our son, but they have all shown immense compassion and support. Even when friends and certain family have dismissed him as a lost cause, our local PoPo keep trying.
I’m not much of one for painting a rainbow where there isn’t one, but I can honestly say there are few people in this world that I genuinely respect more than our first responders. -It’s not just my bloggy friendship with Mamma or the officers we’ve worked with regarding our son that I say this. It’s more that I am capable of appreciating the PoPo for what and who they are. I might not be able to see myself as less valuable than the next guy, but I’m smart enough to appreciate a beneficial entity when it keeps the bad guys at bay, and gives a young kid options in life.
Keep on keeping on Mamma; you truly rock! Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently!
.. And thank you. Should we ever cross paths, the coffee and doughnuts are on me. ;D
Now for my dear daughter. Gird your loins. Trust me on this.
“Wednesday’s” opinion; thirteen year old girl growing up in So. Florida.
What do I think of the police? Well, when my friends and I hear a siren we all grab this one friend of ours and say, “RUN!!! They’re coming for you!!”, just to mess with her. She freezes, says, “Quick! Hide my bag!”, (Although she never has anything illegal in there) and pretends to run. So the police don’t seem very scary when my friends and I hear them. We end up joking and laughing.
How I feel as a teen... Hmm... Well I can honestly say I just want it to be done with and never have to relive some of this drama, backstabbing, lies, manipulating and so on and so forth. I’ve come to terms with the fact that girls at this age are brutal, and the guys tend to be more laid back... even if they are a bit childish and immature most the time. So, instead of getting lied to, backstabbed, and all of that lovely stuff, I tend to have more guy friends than girl friends. And they are just friends! I don’t think of any of them that way.
Peer pressure has never really been an issue with me. Yes, I have had kids come up and ask if I want to try some weed or crack, (you name it, it’s Florida) and I’ve always made it clear that I don’t want to destroy my future of being a New York Times Bestseller. If they want to do it then go ahead, be my guest, but I refuse to take any of that stuff. I also see how my older brother has made dumb choices with some of the less addicting stuff. He ended up in the hospital once after smoking pot. Somebody laced it with something is what the doctors said. He’s the only reason I’ve ever really met the police. They act real tough in front of him but they are really nice to me and my parents. That’s probably why I’m not weird about talking to them like some people are. I don’t think they ever really met one. Maybe they needed to, and thats why they’re freaked out.
Alcohol has crossed a few lips of my friends but I don’t see the appeal of it. I hear there's an awful after taste if your not used to it. I don’t get why I would want to drink something that’s flavor is going to last only a second? I don’t understand teen drinking. They want their problems to go away, but they’re only causing more. I have a cousin that goes to my school and she’s made real problems for everyone with that. She even got herself kicked out of her mom’s house so now she lives with my uncle. At least he doesn’t drink.
My friends and I are pretty close. I don’t just choose anyone to be my friend, they have to earn my trust and keep it. If somebody earns my trust and loses it then it’s their loss, I don’t hand out many second chances. If I were to give out a second chance there are only two reasons why I would do so:
They have to be extremely close to me and I have to have known them for years for me to say “I forgive you.”
Or I’m feeling generous that day and what they did wasn’t really a big deal.
Even so, they will never have my full trust again.
My mom says that’s just Jr. High, and I just have to get through it. Then I will be one step closer to success because it didn’t kill me.
What I view as my life ahead is that I am going to be a New York Times Bestseller and a “will be”. I know what I want to do in life and I’m going to get there no matter what it takes. I’ve saved my money since I was 4 for college. I want to go to journalism school in Seattle. I don’t want to be that chick who had dreams and never accomplished them, I am going to be that chick who makes it in life. You are all going to see my name on that list, I promise you that!
Thanks so much to Jess and Wednesday for their thoughts! I have no doubts Wednesday is going to succeed at her goals! Go check out the family at Jess's blogs. You'll be treated by her latest sweets! Go stalk her!