Having a favorite color is very important to children. Every time my grandchildren pop the question, my answer remains:”GREEN in every shade.” to honor my chosen color,  I’ve determined to repeat my St. Patrick’s Day adventure annually. Meeting greenly-decorated ladies on my walk through a lovely Washington town yesterday was a delight . . . sharing greetings, smiles and stories. Lucky me. I spent this occasion  in Dublin, Ireland one year and joined the parade attendees by clasping my bunch of clover and having  the painted shamrock on my cheek. Weirdly enough, the first marching band played, “The Yellow Rose of Texas?” In response to my “WHYS?”, I was told matter-of-factly, the Irish bands do a yearly exchange with those in America and the familiar American band numbers continued. At least there were numerous red-headed Irish adults and children with shamrocks on their cheeks to demonstrate my whereabouts in a foreign land.                                                                                                                                     

Yesterday I forgot I was wearing my “I’M EXTRA LUCKY TODAY” shirt and was initially confused when a gentleman came up to me on the ferry and boldly asked, “Why are you extra lucky today?” I quickly recovered and explained, “Because it is my son, BRANDON PATRICK’S, 42nd birthday today!” Having no known Irish descent, Brandon and I love Ireland, Celtic music, leprechauns, and clover.

I’ll add my love for green grass, (even green moss at times other that on my white picket fence), green veggies, green money folded securely in my purse pouch, green cashmere sweater with matching socks, greener pastures on the other side of the fence, green with envy when my author fiends meet their book-numbered–sales, Green Gables with the Ann I identify, green tulip leaves protruding from the brown earth, sour green gummy worms, green pistachio ice cream. Tomorrow I will try to make a green background for this article and will add a picture. Can you think of any other reasons or examples to love this marvelous color? 

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Beating the Odds

What are the odds of being attacked by a curtain rod? While on a vacation in sunny Arizona? While believing “I am safe, warm and dry (from the current heavy rains of Washington)?” Yet, while reaching to clean the tub, and mistakenly pulling on the heavy decorative curtain, the thick brass rod slammed me on the head, knocking me to my knees– luckily not into unconsciousness. Still recovering and realizing once again, we never know what might ‘hit us’ next. I suppose the good news is being able to recover; to get up again and be willing to bathe again–tho admittedly wary of the rod above.

And, what are the odds of attending a Polish Festival in Phoenix, Arizona with darkening clouds I remarked were ” straight from The Wizard of Oz pre-tornado scene”? Those very clouds and sudden winds produced a tornado that touched down in near-by Mesa neighborhood. What are the odds of that happening?                                                                                                        

The continuing storm  would that very evening soak 12,000 youth as they would gallantly perform in the mud-puddled field, back dropped by the newly completed Gilbert Mormon Temple. No coincidence that the storm would thrill performers and their audience with the exemplified pioneer Spirit of determined strength in settling in the Arizona desert against the odds.

Rain drenched, clutching my plate of Polish Sausage and sauerkraut, sloshing through puddles to the rhythm of live Polish Folk Singers, I had to rejoice in being alive to take in every misunderstood Polish conversation, (Never did learn the challenging language while living there); to share my blood sausage with the brave-hearted, to blend with fellow-life-travelers and to laugh and love another of life’s adventures. The Polish citizens were undaunted and the rest of us took on their endurance.

We each awaken every day not knowing what might hit us, knock us down, or pick us up. I marvel at our courage, as a people, and our willingness to keep taking risks, accepting the surprises, continuing to find joy despite being dampened and chilled to the bone. Do you join me in marveling about the stamina of our Spirits? I’d love to hear from you.

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Anguish recovery song

Most of us can relate to the feelings of despair and intense paralyzing pain that comes when we feel helplessly alone when we realize our life has been drastically changed. I created this song performed by vocalist Sundaelee Cleaver, pianist Tim Nelson and my son, Dan on the violin and filmed by Don Hill) with the attempt to capture the anguish of sudden loss (For me it was the traumatic event over three years ago that ended my 34-year marriage.)

The initial theme of desperation in the song leads to one of hopefulness through the repeated chorus with an invitation to just “be”. . . and further to be God’s daughter is enough for the moment. Increased awareness and permission to withdraw for now resolves into a strange peacefulness. Then as emphasized in verse three, Gods love is recognized and felt all at once and the ability to go on with His help lifts the suffering soul. The song leads us to accept His invitation to arise from our bed of affliction and continue into life strengthened for now and forever.

Words to this song are available: Please honor their copyright.

You may contact me at; twitter Thriving_Vicki

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Lyrics to anguish recovery song


                                              By Vicki (Victoria) Lynn Boothe


Verse 1:

I slept in a bed of tears,

blanket over head.

Heaven help me face my life (changed to: Hiding from the world’s view)

even tho my heart is full of dread. (changed to: With a heavy heart so full of dread.)

Ever, ever, ever cover Thou my head.

CHORUS: (after a short, lighter heaven-like piano interlude)

Then I heard my call,

“Just be my daughter for now.”


Verse 2:

Yet, what of tomorrow?

What now could I claim?

My world as I’d know it,

Never would it ever be the same.

Never, never, never had I known such pain




Verse 3:

Silent as the sun’s decline,

Spirit’s comfort grew.

Stillness was enough for now.

In time I would find the strength to move.

Always, always. He would help my strength renew.


CHORUS: (changes to)

Again I heard my call,

“Just be my daughter for now.”

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I’m Victoria– a mouthpiece for those of you who choose not to speak.

From my experience as a mental health nurse and from my own healing, I intend to help you to become liberated from the bondage of childhood sexual abuse that can cripple your personal life and disable your earthly effectiveness.

Join me in this journey to find:

  • Reassurance and hope
  • Help with peers, family and loved ones
  • Assistance in moving from victim/survivor to thriver

I offer you easy-to-learn techniques to empower you as you try to sort out the effects of the incomprehensible actions of others.

Thank you for visiting my site.  You are always WELCOME here.

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I’m Finally Here for You

This is the moment. I am going to launch my first blog. Short, sweet and truthful. I have waited numerous years to “get out there.” What has stopped me? The belief, “My blogs may not be good enough.” Fear, doubt, avoidance—the things I’m helping women overcome, have played havoc with my intent. But now I am ready.

I have collected numerous torn-off paper segments from air-flight napkins, concert programs, even tissues—all with names and emails scribbled upon them with the desire to get back to my interested-in-following-me women, only to lose them.

This is the day. I have changed. I am now committed to follow through.

Do I really want to help women? Yes

Do I truly want to share experience, ideas? YES

Do I dare begin this cyberspace process? YES!

There, I did it. And so can you.

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