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?!”



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.


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 ……………………………………………………………………………….


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



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:



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.

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.



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


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