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I haven’t seen her in years.

She had lots of feelings and happenings.

Changes.

Serious lows.

Delicious highs.

The world was different.

She was different.

Perspective changes, and it’s fresh to see it.

It’s fresh to feel it too.

Everyone thought of themselves.

It was a selfish time.

And no one knew what to believe.

Because it had been confused,

Intentionally

Or not.

For some anger.

and a need to blame.

Others exhausted.

Confusion.

Some blissfully oblivious.

Late 19th.

There was Haymarket, labor unrest.

It was like this.

Or not.

No charismatic leader, right?

Maybe a hated leader,

Like now.

No social media, ergo

communication.

Biggest difference.

More of us now.

We’re the same as before.

We are alike.

We sentient beings.

My muse eludes me.

 

 

 

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Belhaven!

2015/12/10

If you’ve read my blog you probably know a place in NC, Belhaven, is close to my heart. This summer I got to visit, and it was joyous. Other aunts, uncles & cousins who don’t live there were visiting. My generous uncle had a crew to cook & clean up. We had the best fried shrimp I’d had in a few years. And this incredible layer cake he gets in Currituck or somewhere on the way.

My cousins and I rode all over town in my uncles golf cart. It’s probably less than a mile from downtown to River Forest Manor, where we were staying. The house is being renovated and I told a little of its history here. While downtown, the golf cart ran out of gas and we were chugging and pushing home, and I was periscoping it, which was hilarious. It took 1/2 an hour to get back!

My Uncle rented a luxury bus that had bedrooms, a kitchen, etc. He also rented some of the outer cottages that have been renovated (very nicely, I might add, they were skanky for a long time.) He also brought his cars. One of them is the the Rolls from Arthur, which my uncle got at an auction. ALS (which killed Dudley Moore, star of this film,) is related to Parkinson’s, which my uncle has had for 20 years. He’s only 10 years older than me and has lived such an active life. I got to drive his newer Rolls in the parade! Here are some pics from the weekend.

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River Forest Manor

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Preston and Uncle Sonny

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Water Street view

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Bishop Home on Water St.

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Preston rolls into Belhaven

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4 of his cars

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My cuz Chelsea

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Preston and Aunt Libby

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Preston’s Kris Kraft

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Arthur Car

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Boats at the marina

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Preston’s Rolls

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 Aunt Nellie’s house

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I drove this!

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My view at parade

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Late afternoon

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Boats at the dock

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New Marina

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All the water pics are Pantego Creek

I am writing in response to Annie’s Prompt. I’ve not written a lot with visual prompts. Usually my prompts are written. So, we shall see how this goes.  I found the pic and prompt over at her blog in, Writing Outside The Lines.  Here is the prompt: (I can write about the words on a few of the rocks, or all the rocks, lots of options.

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I want to talk about the colors.

The sentiments-floating or sinking.

The purple Peace is lovely.

Peace

You Are Loved

What I want to write about are my feelings right now. They are wavy and very confused and hurting in a way that feels palpable to me. Someone recently told me they appreciated my complexity. That felt comforting. I am feeling strangely determined. I am feeling hurt. It is visceral. I feel it in my heart.

If I write will I comfort myself?

I fell today

2015/10/05

and busted my ass. It hurt like hell. I hurt my knees & then my cheek hit the asphalt. Oh, and I didn’t pass out or seize or anything. I distinctly remember my feet fumbling and the fall in detail. Every time I tried to sit up I got dizzy and couldn’t.  It still hurts and I’m going to show you a pic or you can check my twitter time line I tweeted one…

However, right now, what I’m thinking is about when people who are jaywalking or not wearing a seat belt or something else entirely uncriminal end up with their cheeks slammed to the pavement and receive not only no care, but usually at least a little more injury. No sympathy, no comfort, no feeling of safety. The whole staff at the vet’s office came out & one of the vets and tended to me. Brought me ice, called my husband, a towel for my head bc I couldn’t move. Gave me a Coke. I was dazed for a few minutes.

Tim left work and brought me home, got me situated and iced. I’m injured but great.

I can’t imagine hitting my face on the pavement like that and not being in pain and injured.

I’m thinking about how many times a day this happens to people on the streets of our country. No one gives it a thought.

Makes me hurt for our society. And ashamed I participated in letting it get this way.

Toddler Memory

2014/07/17

I think the subject of memory is fascinating. I’ve repressed unpleasant memories; I can think of 2 I definitely suppressed, only to be reminded of them later, and remembering it happening. Huh-suppressed or repressed? Not sure.

Anyhow, I used to have this flash of a memory. In the memory I’m at my great Aunt Mary’s river cottage, and my view is out the screen door, ground level. That’s all the memory was. I loved Aunt Mary’s cottage. There was a ladder leading up to a balcony that surrounded the whole place, where all the kids slept.

About 8 years ago an aunt passed, and my Mom’s cousin, who is a bit younger than her told me when she saw me she remembered she and her husband babysitting me at the cottage when I was about 2. She said I crawled out the screen door. As soon as she told me that I “remembered” the scene and realized that was what I was remembering all these years. I was surprised a memory from that age would be even a little conscious.

Verrrry inter-esting, lol!

I leave you with a picture of a couple of felt bowls I made in a wet-felting class a few months ago.

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There used to be a bumper sticker that read “4th of July in Belhaven”. This was in the 70’s, I suppose.

I’m sure I’ve discussed Belhaven before. The town is on a peninsula in Beaufort County, NC. It’s South of Hyde County & North of Pamlico Co by road.

My parents grew up there. Dad’s folks were from Bertie Co. & Washington, the county seat of Beaufort. Not to be mistaken with the charming town of Beaufort south of Belhaven near Morehead.

Mom grew up there. Dad was born in Norfolk, lived in Manteo & moved to Belhaven when he was about 12.

Anywho, there is a big Independence Day celebration in Belhaven every year. The town swelled from about 2000 folks to about 20,000 when I was a kid.

And, I could sit on Granny’s front porch on Main St. & watch it all. It was the most fun. At 9 pm, Avon Skin So Soft slathered on, we went a block over to Aunt Nellie’s to watch the fireworks from her pier. The story of the year the whole caboodle of fireworks exploding prematurely & the (possibly inebriated) operators diving into the water to escape was often retold.

When I was 12 the small community where we lived had its first 4th of July celebration. This was in Beaverdam, Hanover Co, VA. It was 1976, the Bicentennial. I remember the lady who organized it all riding into the Ruritan park on the hood of a white car.

My friend’s Mom was an artist, and both of her parents were a lot of fun. Her Dad had an old open box truck from the 30’s or 40’s. Barb J painted the stars & stripes on the truck & my 2 best friends & I spent a few 4ths (into our early 20’s!) on the back of that truck in the parade. I’ll have to find a picture.

Afterwards we’d go to Lake Anna & ski. Fun, fun times. I always missed Belhaven, though. It was hard to go back after Granny & Memom weren’t there anymore. However, I have lots of relatives there & spent several 4ths there in recent years.

One year my friend and I went to the park here in Richmond. There is a stage called Dogwood Dell & we sat on a blanket & listened to Patriotic music & mellowed way out. They had fireworks there. Later, we were driving on a parkway & pulled over (along with many others!) to watch the fireworks from the baseball diamond.

Tim likes a quiet 4th. We love to watch the Boston Pops & fireworks on PBS. A few years ago our elder son was in Boston on the 4th & saw this stunning fireworks display live.

Today has been mellow. Took a walk with Penny the dog & my sweet friend TT. I also sat in the sun awhile. Decided if I wasn’t doing any house or yard work I was not going to feel guilty, just enjoy it.

Our Internet & TV (Fios) have been down since last night. They are supposed to come & hopefully fix it by 2 pm. If not, I may just drag Tim to some live fireworks.

I’ve had a hard time reading books lately. I’ve gotten so into long-form magazine articles, I wonder if that is why. I ordered Tom Grimes’s novel City of God a while back. The book is stamped “no longer the property of Spokane library”, which amused me.

Ta!

Her fantastic blog is over here.  I linked to her writer’s workshop page where I got today’s writer’s prompt, since I didn’t wake up with anything.  Sometimes I wake up teeming with life and ideas.  I swear you’ll experience that me one day!  In the meantime,

Write about a time you hid from someone, or a time you disguised who you really were.

I won’t be a downer and describe the many recurring dreams I have where I’m being chased and trying to hide!  Did I mention if I had one superpower it would be to transport myself, i.e. disappear?

No, once I was visiting my sister at her school in Central North Carolina.  She lived with her sorority sisters in their house, and I’m always up for some shenanigans.  She had briefly dated this fellow, and I called him and told him I was whoever, and I’d met him at such and such party, and I’d love to see him again.  We agreed upon a meeting place, and she and her ‘sisters’ hid and watched and tittered at our meeting.

I dressed up like a country bumpkin with no social skills, and chatted with him for about 15 min- 1/2 hr., trying to convince him we’d met before, and how much he had admired me.  Alas, I don’t remember much more about it except Betsy and her sisters and I thought it was quite funny.  I think I had him convinced he had met me.

And that is a time I disguised who I was.  Which is difficult for me because I am compulsively honest.  Although right now I’m not sure I’ve been honest with myself lately, which has nothing to do with the writing prompt so I’ll leave you with a pretty picture.  Going back to my Denmark files…..

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I can’t remember the name of the hotel, but I think it was designed by the brilliant Arne Jacobsen.  These are the first artichoke lamps I ever saw.  Aren’t they stunning?