I was able to check off the first and biggest item of my #bucketlist . Here’s me at Truth Is, storytelling and talking about it! First Times in the Amazon
Today was a sad day as well as a celebration. We lost one of our beloved choir members a little while ago very unexpectedly. She was an amazing person. So loved by so many. She went in for what was to be an easy procedure and had a stroke in the recovery period after the surgery. She was a member of our church choir with me. A soprano. She had a beautiful spirit and she really loved my daughter. At times I can still hear her voice. She had a certain way of looking over her glasses and asking me, “where’s my girl?” She called my daughter HER girl. I was more than happy to share my child with her.
Even now it is so hard to believe she is gone. She is though. I will always miss her dearly.
A few words that came to me this morning as I was getting ready for her memorial service today.
Violets fell from her eyes in a stream of flowing sadness. Her soul cried out in purple and lilac and blue. She had crossed the gossamer veil into invisibility. Only memories that cut to the quick remain. Memories, vivid now and tangible, that will eventually fade to sepia, with curled edges and forgotten dates. Death and Angels come shrouded in beautiful purple drapes but they follow us with aged, sepia eyes knowing this is the final goodbye.
Angles a’jangle and elbows akimbo,
eyes and limbs askew.
A hem hanging down and a tilt-a-wheel hat,
defined all life that he knew.
Life was a cobblestone complete with a trip
On each and every third stone.
Storms with gale force winds was all he had ever known.
The wind whipped his umbrella backwards.
Rain danced familiarly on his head.
Life was left of center with elusive bits of brightness.
They sparkled in the labyrinth of his head.
This bit of poetry sums up this week perfectly. It was full of unexpected things.
When Whitney was in first grade our cat either heard or saw another cat outside. The window was up. She apparently pushed against the screen, it popped out and poof! She was gone. She was an indoor cat who had never been outside for many years to just roam freely. (She spent lots of time on the patio and outside with me when I gardened on a leash.) Whitney was inconsolable!
It was early afternoon. I looked for the cat the rest of the day on foot and by car until I could walk no more. I stopped looking about midnight when I was sure the neighbors would soon be calling the police because I had been calling out the cats name, loudly, for hours.
5am came the next day. I was out looking again. I called her name. Off in the distance I heard her answer. It was a faint meow. I continued to call and she answered. I followed the sound of her meows. She was in the next neighborhood high in a tree in someone’s yard. Pitiful meows were issued when she saw me. She was way up high in one of the massive oak trees we have around here. She might have been chased up there by another cat.
No amount of coaxing or food could get her down. At 8:30am the homeowner came out wanting to know why I was in his yard. I pointed out my cat in his tree. He tried to help. He got ladders from his garage that did not reach. He called his son who had some special extension ladder that would not reach. It was now noon and I had to go to work at 3.
The fire department was not to far away so I decided to go there and ask them to please drive their truck over to this mans house and get my cat. The fireman were TERRIBLE! Some were even RUDE! Not what I expected from Charleston firemen. They told me several things. “They could not do it because of liability. They might get scratched by the cat. The cat might not have shots (she did). They might accidentally damage something at the homeowners property. The cat will eventually come down because when do you ever see cat skeletons hanging around in trees?” I was livid!
I left and went back to the man’s tree and tried more coaxing. Nothing worked. The homeowner said he would go to the fire station and try to get them to come. 30 minutes later he came back and said they would not bring the truck and ladder.
I was done! I marched myself right back to that fire station this time yelling and hysterically crying! This time there was a captain there who was not there earlier. I let them all have it about the rudeness and being unhelpful and said I would be calling every news outlet-Channel 2, 4 and 5 and letting them know just how awful the firemen at this station treated people!
Suddenly one of them was telling me to calm down and asked where the address was. Really? Seriously? They could all of a sudden bring the ladder truck. I went back to the tree and the homeowner was still there coaxing in my absence. About 5 minutes later 6 firefighters showed up, extended the ladder, roughly handled my cat…..but got her down. And when I say roughly, the fireman picked her up by the tail and carried her down the ladder by the tail. There was no need for that. It took them 5 minutes to get her and drive away!
I did thank them. So did the homeowner. After the firemen left I was still a wreck so the homeowner invited me and my cat in. I met the whole family and has a glass of water. They were and are nice people. I added them to my Christmas card list and sent cards for about 4 years until they moved. We never saw each other again in person but I’ll never their kindness!
You will never know the tears of joy Whitney wept when I returned with the cat and placed it in her arms. I simply could not come home without her!
This Labor Day was very laid back. I had all sorts of good intentions and mental lists made but they were all for naught. The weekend ended up being quite a disorganized one. Laundry did not get done. Vacuuming did not get done, Pulling out the recipe book and cooking every meal/over the 3 day weekend did nit get done either,
I rested over the weekend. I actually took naps to help catch up on some of my sleep deprivation. I can tell a difference today. Not so sleepy during the day. I cooked some and ate out some. That pile of laundry never got done Instead I went gnome hunting with my daughter in Hampton Park.
Last week one of my coworkers was running in Hampton Park. He saw a couple holding a gnome and reading a piece of paper, looking very puzzled. He ran on. Then he saw a gnome tucked into a flower bed. He ran on. He passed the couple again walking with their gnome. He passed the gnome in the flower bed again. He passed that gnome three times and then he stopped and picked up the gnome.
Attached to the gnome was a note and entire backstory. His name was Jolly and he needed a new home. His nickname was Lee and his favorite foods were popcorn and root beer. After I told my daughter this tale we had to go gnome hunting. And so we did. For two hours we looked. We did not find a gnome but it was the adventure of trying to find one that my daughter liked.
The only other wild and crazy thing I did was watch the Starbucks live feed for the birthing of pumpkin spice latte. It was a great marketing ploy, Fun too! That was my weekend. Fluid and unordered.
from The Secret To Money app
from The Secret To Money app
Dreams are attached to each other, and once one comes, all the rest will follow.
“She did not know yet how sometimes people keep parts of themselves hidden and secret, sometimes wicked and unkind parts, but often brave or wild or colorful parts, cunning or powerful or even marvelous, beautiful parts, just locked up away at the bottom of their hearts. They do this because they are afraid of the world and of being stared at, or relied upon to do feats of bravery or boldness. And all of those brave and wild and cunning and marvelous and beautiful parts they hid away and left in the dark to grow strange mushrooms—and yes, sometimes those wicked and unkind parts, too—end up in their shadow.”Catherynne Valente
I read an article in the newspaper that the Old City Jail is in the process of being remodeled and turned into an office building. That seems incredibly sad to me. It is in the hands of a developer who is on the trail of getting permission to do this.
How can this be? This is Charleston’s most haunted building. It is a place ripe with African American history for our region. Why can’t it be restored and preserved as an historical site. It needs museum status. For this building to become an office building would be a travesty.
The jail, which was operational from 1802 until 1939, was the place were 10,000 people died from diseases, execution or injury. There was a lot of injury. It was the time of slavery in the south. Some of our most famous and crazy prisoners were housed there. Lavinia Fisher and her husband were there. She was our first female serial killer. She and husband used poison and a bed of stakes to kill their victims. Denmark Vessey and black soldiers were housed there.
And did I say already that it is haunted? The ghost of Lavinia Fisher is supposed to be there. People claimed to have seen her and heard her speak! Things move, people see shadows moving, the rattling of chains can be heard and people on tour have been touched or scratched by unseen things. There is a local tour company that gives a tour there. I have always wanted to go and but it off thinking they would be doing that tour forever. I guess I really need to book it… and soon. Progress waits for no man.
When I think about it being haunted, who would want to work there? I do not think I would. I do want to go, take the tour and take pictures. I hope to get some interesting ghost pictures! The souls of 10,000 were lost there. It is not a place to go daily. It is a place to pay homage to the dead.