A Quick Note While I Stand On Your Toe.

 

 

     The other night around 11PM, I suddenly got the urge to write. I took a piece of advice from one of my Pinterest boards and bar the door, I was out there for a short flight - basically two paragraphs of a few choice words, then a landing. 

     Later, as I got ready for bed, I thought to myself, "What shall I write about now?" I could feel the tumblers rolling around in my brain and then the light went on at "guns."  Yikes, scary subject.

     I was lying in bed, my brain buzzing and I began to think about what I would do if a thief broke in and stole my television. Of course, a person doesn't really know what they would actually do in a real situation but I pray that I would not shoot anyone over a television.  I would of course consider shooting the television if I got the chance! It would thrill my heart to be able to destroy that set - right in their arms. Of course this spurred an idea for an app that could enact a doomsday machine inside your missing piece of stolen technology. With certain codes and buttons, a stolen machine could be rendered trash in minutes flat.  America, you can have that one! OK, go!

      I grew up in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. My Dad and as far as I know, all my uncles had guns - mostly rifles and shotguns.  I cannot tell you what kind or how many guns my Dad owned. He did not talk about them and we rarely ever saw them.  Dad and my uncles owned these simple guns to help their families. They hunted on occasion, and what they shot - we ate - mostly. They also used their guns to defend their gardens from the varmints that would eat the food our families depended on.

     In those days, folks didn't yammer on about their guns. There wasn't a race to see who could have the biggest, most powerful weapon. It wouldn't have made sense to shoot a rabbit in the cabbage patch with a gun that made a dead rabbit inedible.

     Also, most young men, growing up in the country, took a class in school on gun safety. I don't know if this was through the FFA or high school shop class. Being safe with a gun was important. Nobody screamed government interference in their freedom.

    Move into our present time and it seems like a gun free for all. It's the wild west all over again! This is one thing that I do not understand. A machine gun, which fires 500 to 800 rounds per minute, is illegal to personally own (as far as I can gather.) Yet, an AR-15 (assault rifle) fires as fast as you can pull the trigger with an average of 800 rounds per minute. Why isn't this gun and ones like it, illegal? Why would anyone outside the military need to own a gun like this? So for those of you who are throwing the Second Amendment in my face - don't. You can use this time to weigh out the words "Well 'regulated' " against "shall not be infringed" - and that's a dog chasing it's tail.

     We need a license to drive a car - and that usually means studying a driving manual, then taking a written and driving test ( with a renewal every four years). It's to make sure a person knows what they're doing with a vehicle which can easily become a deadly weapon. We don't shake in our boots because someone has asked us to show that we are responsible - with a car.  The rationale that expects us to be mentally fit to drive a car, should also apply to guns. A gun is a serious piece of equipment.

    I don't want to ban guns, I might need one myself someday.  I would like to see some common sense show up to figure out the modern day gun scene! And don't bother with "We have to be ready to overthrow the government." Are you kidding me? It's like someone recently pointed out "You're taking a gun to a clone fight." Here's a clue, the government has the BIG guns.  We'd be better off studying civil disobedience and getting good at that if we really need to change our government. (Hmm, maybe that's what it's going to take to make changes in the existing assault rifle laws.)

 

 

     The dead coyote at the top of the page was hit by a car

at the corner of 950N and 125W in Fortville, Indiana.

The dead coyote at the bottom of the page

was hit by a car on HWY 221 between Woodlawn and North Cove, N.C.

That concludes my collection of dead coyote pictures.

  Cars are dangerous!

       

    

 

 

 

Writing and then some.

     I think about writing - a lot. In my mind, whose doors and windows are surely eeking closed as the days pass - I am living a large writer's life! On my mind mantel you will see a Pulitzer / make that two Pulitzer Prizes for writing. There's a Nobel Prize in Literature and a dusty Oscar for that Hollywood musical I worked on. My brain dusts these awards on a daily basis.

     The truth betrays these lies. Nothing has been written in quite a while. And as I write this post, much of what I will tell you will sound like excuses... not enough time, no inspiration from my muse, distractions, tired, etc (whatever 'etc'  might mean). The truth is I've not been writing - at all!

     This past week I came across a Pinterest site that called to me. "How to Get Back Into Writing After a Long Break, at MandyWallace.com. It's a simple article that's inspired this post. She suggested a journal entry to loosen things up. The other option was to write the same thing over and over like: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy- into infinity. And isn't that a 'Shining' moment?  Hang on, that might be coming.

     I am writng these words. Nothing here for the Pulitzer committee to look over.  Just some written words to get my gears loosened up for the writing that I would like to be doing.

What We Did During Spring Break 1990

 

These pictures represent a spring break trip that our family took around 1990. Most folks plan a trip to warm places like Florida, Myrtle Beach or even Jamaica for spring break - a little get away from the winter forces. And this was the argument we all presented to Philip (my husband) when he got the big idea for us to go north - yes, north, to Holland, Michigan for our spring break.

 

 

Philip told us that Holland, Michigan holds a huge Tulip Festival every spring.  He told us this in mid March, not knowing that the Tulip Festival in Holland, Michigan takes place in mid May. So we set out for the Dunes (which Philip loves) and the tulips of Holland, Michigan.

 

 

We arrived in the afternoon to beautiful, sun filled streets but no people anywhere in sight. Once we got out of our car, we knew why the streets were deserted. And knew instantly where the people were - inside! The lake effect winds (and Holland, Michigan sets right on the lake - on the front lines of lake effect anything) hit us like stinging bees! It was cold! I don't think the temperature got above 20 degrees for the entire time we were there.

 

 

Did I tell you that there was not a living tulip in sight? Just lots of posters about the coming Tulip Festival, many weeks away. So we made the most of it and drove around town to see the sights. One of the coolest attractions in Holland, Michigan is the Big Red Lighthouse.

 

 

Yet the main memory that sticks with me about that trip was the bitter cold. Wet, piercing cold. And then that fog that set in at night. It was like a scene from The Shining. The scene where Jack Nicholson's crazy character (wielding an ax) is chasing that young child through the streets. We'd decided to walk from our motel to a restaurant which was about 100 yards away. The parking lot was empty. The thick, soupy fog blurred the light from the street lights and the wind came at us like razors. When you're wearing gloves and keep thinking that you need to put on gloves (over your existing gloves), it's cold! It would have been a perfect time to pierce our noses. Ah, good times.

 

This particular spring break trip was also one of the last, if not the very last trip that our daughter, Kora, took with us as a complete family unit.

 

And I write about it now in honor of her upcoming 40th birthday. Let's all get together one of these years and go to the actual, Holland Michigan Tulip Festival. Like your Dad told us then "It'll be fun."

 

Father Washington

 

 

 

   It's a beautiful room, full of sun and lovely furniture. A picture of peace. It's the room where President George Washington left this world. It's Washington's bedroom at Mt. Vernon. I post this here like a roadside, memorial cross. My little, online shrine.

   I drive about 35 miles round trip, four days a week, to my job in Anderson, Indiana. One day I decided to go by the local library and get some audio books to listen to on my travels.

   I chose Ron Chernow's book, Washington: A Life. It was read by Scott Brick.

   I put the first disc, of the 12 disc book, into my car disc player and the world of motoring, sound technology, history and story telling came together in a lovely way for my daily journey. And it's amazing how much the reader can affect the experience of an audio book. For instance, I recently checked out a book by Kurt Vonnegut - A Man Without A Country. The reader seemed to be trying to sound like Kurt Vonnegut. It was so irritating that I couldn't make it through the three disc set. Scott Brick was flawless in his reading of Washington: A Life.

   I didn't know that much about George Washington, other than what we all learn in elementary school. I knew he was the first president, born February 22, 1732, the cherry tree and the truth teller, slave holder, military man and the false teeth. Yet, this book helped put the human side to the father of our country.

   Here's a few Washington factoids:

* Washington never had wooden teeth.

*By age 30, Washington had survived smallpox, malaria, dysentery, and other diseases. He had a strong, physical constitution.

*Washington never fathered any children of his own.

*Washington lost more battles than he won but still ranks as a great general.

*Land rich but cash poor, Washington had to borrow money to attend his inauguration in New York city in 1789.

*His public life took a huge toil on his finances.

*Washington nearly died twice during his first term as president. First from a tumor on his thigh and then from pneumonia.

*Washington is the only president to ever lead an army in battle - the Whiskey Rebellion of 1794.

*Neither George nor Martha Washington liked Thomas Jefferson, even though Jefferson served as Washington's Secretary of State.
 

   They say that hindsight is 20/20. And it's easy for us to sit here in the present and pass judgment on those who have come before us. Slavery was and is wrong. Many of our forefathers wrestled with the whole slavery issue. They weren't ignorant to the morality of it. This includes George Washington. He was a politician, so his views shifted depending on who he was with. He had to re-assure the southern plantation owners who definitely wanted their slaves excluded from liberty. Yet, there were the northern abolitionist who sought liberty for all.

    At the end of George Washington's life, he wrote a will that freed all of his slaves (when his wife, Martha, passed away). Martha did not wait for long before she freed his slaves early. She was worried that George's slaves might be tempted to shorten her life.

   An item in his will that few people are aware of is that he instructed that all his young slaves should be taught to read and write, as well as be taught a trade before they were freed. He also left instructions for the care of his elderly (freed) slaves. He set aside a life time pension for his personal slave - William Lee.

    George Washington sacrificed a great deal for America. His actions before and during his presidency preserved the nation and set a high bar for all future presidents.

     There's an excellent site for Washington's home at Mt Vernon - (mountvernon.org). This site offers an online tour of Mt. Vernon and the surrounding gardens.
    I post this entry today, February 22, 2014 in honor of President George Washington - the Father Of Our Country.

  

   

   

 

GOOD AS GOLD!

      Here is a piece of advice to all my young friends. I am speaking mainly to anyone who reads this post who is just now starting into sixth grade... and if you have a child or grandchild starting sixth grade, please, pass this on to them. Go out and get a pack of 3 by 5 cards. Each day of your school year - and you can include the summer months as well - write down something that happened during the day. You need to write the date on the card, write what you were wearing and who you were hanging out with. Don't make this a chore, just jot down something that happened. Maybe the teacher cancelled the math test, someone slipped on a banana peel,  or your slip fell in the floor (this happened to my baby sister and thank God she was in the girl's bathroom when this wardrobe malfunction occurred - she just stepped out of the offending garment and threw it into the trash can!) My daughter suggested that jotting down daily memories would be a good thing to do at any age and I agree but let's face it, between sixth grade and graduation, most kids are a hormonal mess! So the cards would write themselves! 

     If you are going to school for 180 days during the year - that's 180 stories in a year's time. Now over the course of these 6 grueling years, you'd have over a thousand stories to pick through for an amazing book, play or movie about those wonderful, full of enchantment, days. Trust me, whether it's a book, play or movie, it will be hilarious!

    How do I know? Well, I've just been reading my sister's recently published book - My Adventures with Earl by Margaret J. Hyler. In one of the early chapters, she mentions taking her neighbors to Atlantic Beach in Morehead City, NC. This story triggered a memory of when I went with them to Atlantic Beach. I was between the ages of 12 and 15. My parents had let me come to Yanceyville, N.C. for a visit and that is when I found out that - surprise! - we were going to the beach! The problem was that I did not have a bathing suit and it wouldn't have mattered if they had told me in advance - I never owned a bathing suit during my entire childhood.  (Long story).

    JoAnne insisted that I wear one of her suits. She chose a baby pink, bikini - with ruffles on the top and on the bottom! Big ruffles!  I go from being a modest, mountain girl to Ann Margaret - beach bunny!  JoAnne is 11 years older than me, so as you might expect, her suit was a little too big on me and here's where this post goes a little PG - 13 ... it was that time of month! GAWD!

    To make matters worse, I didn't have the supplies I needed because I didn't know that we were going to the beach. And since my parents didn't have a lot of money to keep 5 girls in "supplies," my grandmother had shown me how to make homemade supplies by folding toilet tissue. There I was, on this beautiful beach, in a bikini that was too big, so getting it wet would have made things worse, not just because the suit would expand but because those tissues would have been bunching or dropping out or worse, STAINING!.  I had to settle for - teenager, on the beach with big ruffles on my butt and big ruffles on the form fitting cups that my flat chest had no chance of filling. Ah, good times!

   My 3 by 5 card would read - Date: 1965 / 1968. Wearing: Over sized, pink, bikini with BIG ruffles. With: JoAnne, brother in law, baby nephew and monthly visitor. Where: Atlantic Beach, NC. 

    Trust me, when you get some years on you, this stuff, even if it never makes it into a book, play or movie will be better than gold.

    

P.S. Here's another little detail that I forgot to add in the above story. I was wearing my underclothes under the bikini bottom.....talk about your shorts in a bunch.... yet, a girl has to have something to pin her "supplies" to.

A Red RUM Winter

     Here we are - winter on the flat lands. A wonderland of frozen delights. The snow moved in after Christmas, giving us 4 or 5 inches of the white stuff. This week, another snow headed down the barrel for us bringing with it the dropping temperatures that winter is known for and the wind chill factor that TV weather forecasters depend on for added hype and growing viewership. The forecasters went into a panicked frenzy. Look at them, broadcasting from the street as they shove wine goblets purchased at the nearby Dollar Store, into a mound of snow to give the TV audience a sense of how deep the snow is on a wine glass. One weather woman, sitting in the comfort of the TV studio, with a really worried look on her face, said "This is a dangerous situation and at times like this we all need to stick together." And I just looked at her like "What?" If you've got a brain in your head, you need to stay inside!" This is not a cum-bi-yi moment. I don't even know what she is talking about. It's winter - a time when Mother Nature is trying her best to kill us! I turned it off. The forecasters are creating more stress and anxiety on people than the passing storm will ever touch. 
   Our household is not immune to this either. My husband, last week, as he was sitting in the easy chair in the living room, mentioned that he was cold and it was in the low twenties outside. "If I am this cold now, I can't imagine how we're going to handle the -14 degrees coming for us next week." This is the same guy who, every night, opens our bedroom window, a little, so we can have "fresh air." And I do mean every night - even that night!
   He has also taken it on himself to be my overseer during this winter entrapment. It is up to him to make sure that I am doing meaningful work while we wait for the thaw. Last night he was telling me about this creativity book that he is currently reading - Creative Confidence. According to this book - undoubtedly written by amazing geniuses, when you critique a work, you should start by saying "I like" then "I wish." So by the transitive theory, Philip should point out the things he likes about my art before he ends with his wish for the changes to my work. If my eyeballs could shoot out lazer beams, Philip would be sporting a really red tan today and I would mentally be in the car heading for NY to find those amazing geniuses to just let them know that when I am creating art, it is not for someone outside my brain to step in to tell me in their "superior knowledge" how I should be changing things. I'm 60 freaking years old! I will be dead soon enough and I am not interested in what Philip or New York City or any body else has to say about what I am doing! When I tell him this in the calmest way possible, he says that I have always been defensive! (Oops, my imaginary lazer beam just burnt a hole in the wall behind his head!) 
    I'm beginning to understand why that weather forecaster, broadcasting from the street, in 12 inches of snow, bought a wine glass from the Dollar Store. She was the real, amazing genius, sending a hidden message for all of us. Bad weather is approaching, are you "really" ready?

Morning on the mountain