Playhouse and Grandmother

I have some wonderful pictures to go with this post how ever due to technical difficulty ..... Oh crap they just will not up load for some stupid reason. So when I find out what is wrong I will come back in and up load the pictures ..... Sorry, ever just have that feeling that something is just going to screw you up sometimes??? Well that about what it is today.. Anything that can go wrong will kind of thing... Oh well.....

So here goes this will be in two parts .......... Once again sorry for no pictures.......


I have been told that my mind is like a filing cabinet …lol…
Everything I have seen and heard through my life has been filed in special order so that one day when I do decide to sit down and write things out they will there waiting.

Well I thought I would pull one of those drawers open and share yet another childhood memory with you. Something that hasn’t seen the light in a while….lol…

I have shared already about playing hooky with my friends and tracking over the railroad tracks to go fishing and just goofing off the whole day.

So hear is yet another one that maybe after you read it you can look back to your childhood and remember someone older in your life that made a special imprint into your life with a laugh or something special..

My grandmother was one of those ladies that wore the old round lens wire glasses. She never cut her hair and it was always up in a bun on the top of her head.
The only time I every seen it down was at night before she went to bed and she would sit at her vanity on this stool and brush her long grayish colored hair what seemed like a million times to me at the time.

She had a brass container that had a lid that after she got done brushing her hair she would remove the hair from her brush and put it safely in until the next morning when she would use the hair as some kind of natural tie to hold her hair together before she pinned it into a bun.

She would wear these flannel gowns at night with long sleeves. In the morning she would get up and change into one of her many flower printed dresses. The kind that was made of linen very thing and cool.

Always with a full slip and the dresses always buttoned up the front with the same color buttons as the flowers in the dress or just plain white.

She would wear stockings all the time. Not pantyhose stockings that looked as if they were a hundred years old and the would be held up by these black elastic bands and she would roll them until you couldn’t see the band until they were right above the knee. Well you never seen that because the dress was just below the knee.

She wore flat shoes that tied up with laces and they were either the basic black, or tan. I don’t remember if there were any other colors and I never seen her in a pair of high heels in my life.

Her dress always had two pockets in the shirt part that seem to be never ending and she would always have her hanky a very soft linen with the dainty thread work around the edges and something always in the corner maybe and initial or a flower.

She also had this little change purse that she kept with her just in case she needed something from the store she wouldn’t have to go to her hiding place or ask my grandfather for it. Typical female always hiding a stash somewhere …lol…

She also had what she called her gum pack. I don’t really know what it was because she never gave me any of it to chew.

In the other pocket she carried a small tin can of powdered snuff. I can remember the name as if it was yesterday.
Beechnut it’s label was white and it either had orange or peach writing or white with green writing on it.
Other than the writing I really don’t know what the difference was.

Thinking about it I can almost smell the powdery substance now. Very smooth with a hint of dusty qualities to it. And if you inhaled it well lets say it would make your nose burn and you would sneeze your head off.

Now to me she wasn’t the little old grandma that when you came to her house she had milk and cookies waiting along with the smelly hugs and kisses. That wasn’t her at all.

Now my grandfather he was maybe 6 ft. tall. Slender but his frame was strong. Always a button up thin cotton shirt with a undershirt. The work pants that was either gray, brown or green and a small thin belt he wore.
The reason I remember the belt is because I got a few spankings with it from time to time not much though. He wore a straw cowboy hat around the house when he was at home to work in but when he went up town he had a gray felt one he wore.

His hair was full but kept short and trimmed often. He also had the snuff that my grandmother dipped and always a small block of chewing tobacco he kept in his pocket which he would take his knife and cut a square off to chew.

His hands were large but worn from all the hard work he had done all his life. But they were genital at times also when he would hold your hand or rub your hair when he was trying to tell you something.

He had a smile that would make you feel safe and smile back. He was a very good man and he always tried to be fare at all times.

I loved my grandfather and always enjoyed being around him and watching him and at times when I did get to stay over sometimes I would get up when everyone was in bed and I would try his work boots on. They were so large.


Now I wasn’t the favorite grandchild at all. There were only three of the out of 16 of us. My cousin Tammy from one of their daughters {please forgive you shouldn’t talk ill of the dead my Aunt passed many years ago.}
And Arby and Arland from their other daughter that lived in Lakeland at the time. These were the special kids why who knows….

Tammy always got what she wanted. A playhouse was built and let me tell you my play house that I have talked about to me it was the a great place.
However to be compared to her playhouse it was nothing but a bunch of three board propped up next to each other and another board thrown on top of it where the simple thing as a breeze would blow it down…. Makes you think of the three little pigs and the wolf that blew there house down …lol…

Her playhouse was maybe 500 feet square. Windows that opened and closed on hinges and locks. A front door with a small window in front and a brass door knob. The lock on the door was on the outside and it was one of those hinge locks that you needed a key padlock to lock it.
It had electricity in there so she could play as long as she wanted in there.
There was a play stove, sink, cabinets to put the play dishes in and pots. All the things you would have to have to play house. There were shelves on the walls where all the dolls and stuff animals sat safe.
And a very large wooden toy box with other types of toys to play with. Everything a little girl would ever want. And still she remained selfish.

My grandfather built this playhouse with his own two hands. He was always a gentle man. I recall how tall he always stood his worn body at the age of 76.
When my grandmother was living he was always very quite you never heard them become angry with each other. I remember she would be up at the crack of dawn and making his breakfast and then he would get up and after he would go out side and do this morning chores with the animals.

There was a large tree in the back yard like a Mulberry tree. On the weekends I use to go over and to walk into my grandmothers kitchen was like walking into a room with so many smells going on at a time.

She was always cooking something good. She would give us these little tin buckets and we would climb into the tree and pick the berries. Well what ones we didn’t eat. Most of the time we would come down and have blue/purple stains around our mouth and all over our hands.

The berries she would wash and cook down into a cobbler with thick sweet juices. After dinner we would get a bowl of this still steaming and fresh cold cream poured on the top to cool it down some before we ate it. It never cooled it completely and some bites would be hotter than others but it was very good.

She was a very good cook. My grandfather would kill a old chicken that couldn’t lay eggs any more and she would make homemade chicken and dumplings. As I said she wasn’t the kind of grandmother that was into making all her grandchildren happy just the select few.

She was always short with me and to the point I can’t really remember ever seeing her smile or treating me like I was a special child. And to play in the playhouse I had to have permission from my cousin to go threw the doors. She was very cold to me at times.

And at the time I really didn’t realize the tension between her and my mother. But she was my grandmother bottom line and the memories she gave to me was not of hugs and smiles and pleasant things.
They were of scolding and little remarks that hurt deep that would never be forgot.

When the day my grandmother passed away that day was a very ugly day. I can see it clear in my head as if it were yesterday. She had a headache all day and late afternoon she went to lay on the bed.
My grandfather paced back and worth with worry in his eyes. I can remember the worried look in his eyes almost as if you could see the life some how slipping away from him.

His strong features and jaw line seemed to be tense. The wrinkles showed more in his face. He walked back and forth walking in and out of the room you could hear him say ‘Bell are you feeling any better?”
All I could hear her say to him was “my head is killing me Sylvester will you get this kid off my bed”. And he got my cousin Tammy by the arm and pulled her off the bed. She was crying calling out to my grandmother.

My mother walked in and called her dad. When he walked out of the bedroom they whispered back and forth and the next thing there was an ambulance pulling into the front part of the house.

The ambulances then weren’t like the ones we have now with the square frame and lots of room in the back. The ambulances then was shaped like the Hurst from a funeral home. Long and no room really other than to slide a gritty from the back and slide it back in and one person to sit as the other drove.

They were all dressed in white from the uniform. I remember them putting her on the bed with wheels and strapping her in and rolling her to their vehicle with the one red light bubble on top of the roof.

Turning to my mother and my grandfather saying something and then pulling out from under the shade of the big oak trees that covered the front part of the yard all the way up to the house from the edge of the road.
Before too long the house starting feeling up with Aunts and other people everyone doing there part to get things settled into place. My grandfather left with someone I don’t really know who carried him. But that was the last time I saw my grandmother alive.

A few days in the hospital she had a massive stroke and passed away.
That was a very sad day a large part of my grandfathers life passed away also. When I saw him again he had aged so much he had a look in his eyes I had never seen there before. Loss of his heart…..

He was very quite and his eyes didn’t raise high enough to look you in the eyes. My thoughts were he didn’t want us to see the tears in his eyes. It had been five days since he left to go see my grandmother. Where was she I thought to my self no one really said anything of her.

So when all the adults started coming in from where they lived I knew something was going on.

My grandfather still got up early that morning and went to do his chores feeding the horses and the chickens. My aunts were in the kitchen fixing coffee and sitting at the table everyone was in tears.

I stood in the small hallway listening to them talk. What was he going to do now she was gone? She was gone?? Where did she go I thought to myself. I was confused and my Aunt said well we are going to have to make the arrangements sometime today. And what about dad what are we going to do about him?

I was only 8 or 9 yrs old and I didn’t realize what was going on. So I slid pass the kitchen door to the back door which was made of wood and screen with a eye and hook that latched the door closed.
I pushed the door open softly to make sure no one would hear the squeak from the hinges.

Once out the door I walked pass the play house it seemed empty and abandoned in the morning light. Over close to the wood pile which was only a few feet away from the barn which he kept his farm tools in and the big tin garbage cans which held horse feed in one and corn in the other. He had to large buckets that hung from two big rusty nails at the door.

You could smell the molasses from the feed can so strong and sweet. The door was pushed all the way open and I could see him standing there putting feed in the buckets for the horses.

I watched him for a while as he walked out and turned towards the horse pin to feed them. When he started around the corner coming back he walked into the barn and hung the buckets up and took a tin can and filled it with the corn. He then started walking to the chicken pin.

They must had 50 or 60 chickens all fat and healthy. And one big old white rooster which you knew was the boss of the coop and then a young red rooster. He pulled open the wire door to the coop and walked in and I could hear his voice lightly calling the chickens. Here chick, chick as he scatted the corn to the ground and then took the rest and poured into the wooden troth.

After he finished feeding up the chickens he walked to where the wire basket hung and took it off the hook. Then he walked into the chicken house. I knew what he was doing collecting the eggs. Sometimes there would be 4 maybe 5 dozen of eggs collected in 2 days.

The laying hens was very good. Some would be left in the nest so the could be hatched for more little chicks. He then came out of the hen house with maybe a dozen and a half of eggs.

Closing the coop door and hooking it I watched him walk towards the barn and put the tin bucket back in and close the door and head to the house. He was so quite today.
Most of the time you could hear him humming some old song or something. But not today. It was as if he was lost some where else.
He took the eggs to the back door and said something and one of my aunts came to the door and took the eggs into the house.

He then walked over to the hand pump. A iron hand pump well that you had to always prime with some water out of the rain barrel at the corner of the house. He pushed the iron handle up and down about a half a dozen times before the water came rushing out and running into a bucket.

I finally found enough courage to walk up to him and I remember looking into his eyes. They seemed so empty and cold.
I remember reaching out and taking him by the hand and smiling up at him and something like “Grandpa are you ok?” came from my mouth. He tried to smile at me and whispered yes. I looked at him and then I knew something was wrong. “Grandpa where’s grandma is she coming home soon?’

All he could do was look at me with a half smile and told me “Your grandma is not coming home child. She has gone to see the angles. And a single tear fell from one of his eyes and rolled down a cross his cheek. All I could do was wrap my arms around his legs and hug him as hard as I could and tell him “I love you grandpa.”

I remember him placing his hand on my head and petting me and saying everything would be fine.

That was when I learned about death for the very first time in my life. And after my grandmother was laid to rest things was never the same any more at the house.
He was different more quite and when he walked he kind of drug him self. I didn’t know until later in my life that when you have been with someone for so many years like that well over 50 yrs when one passes the other some how passes a part of them with that person.

When all was done that’s when I started running away from home early in the mornings. Going threw the alleyway crossing the back yard to the back door of my grandfathers house to the back door to have grilled cheese and hot tea with him every morning.


Well that’s another yet another file to pull from another day. I hope you enjoyed the story. This story is in memory of my grandmother “Bell Arnold one tough old cookie. And my grandfather Sylvester Arnold a very wonderful kind man” I do love you both and I hope you did find each other some where on the other side…… Rest in peace.........

"PART TWO" Ever had a replay

I have returned with yet another part of the memories enjoy....

When I was a child I was more or less a loner I guess. I really didn’t hang out with the girls too much crap going on with them.
The baby dolls, dresses and playhouse stuff. The sitting at make believe tea talking of who was going to be who’s husband… lol…
I just never got into the whole thing. I played with the boys they were simple and easy to deal with. They didn’t want all that mushy crap.

Skipping school with fishing line and a hook rolled around a stick. I would hide it outside where no one would know where to look.

Pick it up and stick it in my pocket and walk to the bus stop. We would all stand around the four of us talking about where we would go for the day to fish.

I was what 11 or 12 yrs old at the time. These boys had been my friends ever since 1st grade.


We would see the bus coming and one would say I forgot something and the rest would follow. We would sneak off to my grandfathers barn and stand on the back side of it until the bus passed then off threw the pasture to the woods on the far side.

Then over to where they made fertilizer and to the railroad tracks. I would always be the one to feel the track for the vibration.

Some times I would place my ear close to they track to listen to it for up coming trains. Then we would cross Taylor Creek to the other side and to where the trees grow thick and the ground was wet. Best earthworms around. Long and fat just how the fish like them.

We always brought a small brown bag to put them in until we got under the tracks where our old coffee can was to put them into.

Sometimes I would go all by my self specially when things weren’t so happy at home.

There would be times when I would just run away I would call it. And just cross the tracks and sit there with my fishing line in the water waiting for the fish to bite.

And when the train would cross I would cover my ears and watch one car after another pass and at times I would sit there and dream of catching one of those cars to a train and riding for as long as it would go.

Take me away from all the stuff that was going on where something happier would be.

It’s funny how children dream and they never see the danger or and thing.

Yesterday I went down to the place where I went as a child. With it being Sunday there was no one around. I crossed threw the line of trees which for some reason now didn’t seem as thick like when I done this as a kid.

A cross the fertilizer place. Man the smell was as strong as it was when I went threw there years and years ago. The hills weren’t mountains as they were when I use to pass by them back then.

The closer I got to the track a familiar feeling came over me. The excitement of the tracks and what they meant to me as a child. And how warm they felt from the suns rays or how cold they felt at night under a full moon.

And yes to answer the question that is in the back of your head. Yes there were times when we had to hide from my stepfather. Most of the times my mother would grab the younger two and out she would go.

Me being the oldest around 9 or 10 I would take off my own way to hide until we got together to go out to my cousins house out on Mitchell Rd.

Yeah my stepfather was a very mean man when he drank. I’m not sure if I am ready to share those stories with the world yet.

Many bad, bad times.

So back to Sunday. As I was walking I could hear things like from the pass in my mind.

I could hear my best friends the guys that use to play hooky with me and fish..

I could almost hear the laughter and them calling to me asking me if I brought my lunch bag with my sandwich and what ever I could stash into the bag for lunch.

All of us use to brings something different but it had to be good also. If you brought something like tuna fish well it was bad. You were called a moron or what ever else was thought of.

Maybe even had to take a punch in the arm from the rest of the group.

But it wasn’t that bad we were together laughing and talking about every thing and any thing. The simple life I see now even though it was a very hard time of my life. So I smiled at my childhood ghost and I kind of asked them if they would like to join me in my walk as I continued making my way to the tracks.

There was grass poking out of the ground around them. In some places where they would bring the cars up for unloading to the plant.

And as I walked to the main tracks the rocks crunched and moved under my shoes. White grayish rocks with flicks in them.

They sparkled in the sun light. We use to say they were diamonds or some other stone that was going to make us rich back then.

I kind of smiled as the warmth from the rocks floated up with the smell of diesel.

The wooden trusses brought back memories of trying to walk on them without touching the rocks.
Well it wasn’t really walking for me I kind of hopped and skipped sort of. Always in a hurry to get to the other side so I could look further down the track. I stood there and looked at the tracks and a tear came to my eyes. So many years these tracks have laid here.
I wondered if there were other kids that would cross them to go fishing. More likely not because kids these days don’t know what it’s like to have to get out and discover things it’s all right there for them in there bedrooms or the den or where ever you have your video game set up. That’s there adventure.
So I kind of felt sad for the tracks. Thinking how long it must have been since they heard laughter and talking. And felt the skipping feet.
I knelt down and placed my right hand on the rail. The warmth ran threw my fingers and into my hand as I touched it. It felt like reaching out shaking a old friends hand.

I looked left and right then I lowered my head to where my ear was right over my hand so I could hear for the vibrations in the track. No humming it was silent so it was alright to stand up and proceed. It was as if my feet were walking the same path.

Stepping on the wooden trusses stepping one at a time. Watching my foot come down on one then the other.

I could smell the creek dried up some not like I remembered it being. The old musky smell.

I didn’t recall any smell back then. Unless it was an animal that may had been hit by the train and threw off to the side of the track.

And if that happened boy my friends would throw a fit. They knew if there were any dead animals that weren’t already rotten we had to properly bury them. Hey it was the right thing to do. But if they were way far gone where you could see the bones or you know disgusting to even kids.

Well we would pinch our nose with our fingers and breath threw our mouths and make fun of each other as we hurry away from the smell.

As I walked on the tracks crossing the bridge. Well it’s not a very big bridge but it is one …lol…

At least it’s not so big now I remembered it as longer. Crossing it I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and a excitement running in my veins.

Getting to the other side I looked left and right to see if you could see any trains far down the tracks. Nothing but those big poles that hold the lights for the trains to see.

The ones that go from red to green. But mostly they stay red. Walking over the rocks down towards the ground by the bridge I just took it all in and remembered when we use to climb down this way.

We were always on the look out for big grasshoppers or other bugs we could use to fish. And the big look out
Snakes. Yes there were snakes.

You know thinking about it man we were nuts and had no fear of anything back then. Danger was exciting to us if we even thought about it. We could have slipped and fell broke a leg or anything

Once on the ground I looked around and started walking towards the field of trees. There use to be cows all threw these fields but now the lay empty at least were I could see.

Walking towards the trees I found a place where they shaded the ground and I sat there for a while and just relaxed a bit.

That walk was very long and I was kind of breathing a little heavy now. I knew I had to rest before I took the trip back and over the tracks.


I must have sat there for an hours or more then I heard it. The whistle coming from the east end of the tracks. I sat up and there it came.

The Amtrak train. Heading north it may or may not stop up at the depot down the track a mile or so. It moved fast passing where I was and it’s whistle was very loud.

I just watched it as it passed by. Once it had passed by I stood up and started back to the tracks so I could cross the bridge to the other side.

As I crossed I thought once again of the old days and how simple they were and wished that I could go back to them and just stand on the outside and watch them play like an old movie.

Walking down the tracks I felt as if I was losing something that was important to me. I stood there for a moment and said to my self it was a good day I wish I could place it in a bottle and take home with me so when a time came and I needed that feeling once again I could open it up and feel it again.

I still sometime feel the urge as a child to jump in a box car and just ride it down the tracks. But that was a child’s dream to runaway on a train and find a place where there was happiness and no pain. A place that as an adult I know doesn’t exist any where but in my dreams

Well I have finished a whole bottle of wine now and it seems the rain has either slowed down to very soft drops or has stopped altogether now.
The music is now bring back thoughts and memories that hold a secret in my heart so I have to close and deal with them yet another time.
I hope these fond memories made you smile and it brought back a memory or two of your childhood times or another special memory you hold dear.
Thanks for reading…..

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM AND REMEMBER

The SPUR of the moment

Well it's one of those night's where I can't sleep again. So I sit up an channel surf. Well if you don't have the power pack channel's where you get a million channel's then it doesn't take much time to surf then ...lol..

I'm not sure how many of you get restless out there but there are times I get very restless.

I can feel that restless hook sticking into me and it hasn't just yet pulled me in but it's getting very close. I am one of those people that really don't like to make a lot of plans. Of course I don't need to now since my kids have grown up and have taken a life of their own on...lol...

No husband to clear things with just me. Sometimes that is great but then there are sometimes it's dull and boring. Of course this means there are a lot of time that you go places alone. And there are many times you eat alone also unless you have plenty of friends to call on.




The problem with this is 98% of my friends have jobs where they just can't leave on a SPUR of the moment. And then the ones that husband, kids what other obligations that stands in the way of just jumping into the car and just driving away ...LOL...


I on the other hand love to just take off and drive and clear my head and think of whats worrying me or making me feel down.






I love to drive different places. But I also like to drive to places that have wonderful meaning to me too.....
Specially one's that brings warm happy memories back to me and even though they may also bring a few tears of some sort of sadness the memories are wonderful and happy.
The tears are of lost wishes. "I wish it could have lasted longer". "I wish he was here with me now holding my hand in his". "I wish I could have told him one more time that I loved him before he drove away". "I wish I could feel his arms around me one more time". And one last but not least because I could sit here and list so many wishes that was lost but I truly think there would be no end to the list. So for now the finally one I will list is "I wish I could feel his body next to mine so I could feel him breath and his heart beating"......

Yes I am a very sentimental person all the way to the bone.

I collect memories as others would collect books or even picture's. I have a gift for storing them safe away and being able to pull them up to remember at certain times. All it takes is some song or seeing something. And even a smell. Sometimes it can be very painful to recall things because some are not always happy and those are the ones that hurts very much.
I know you have saw those people that are at the red light next to you alone in there vehicle talking with them selves or have a mysterious smile on their face just looking out there enjoying what ever it is they are recalling. Then their are the ones that sit next to you with the sadness you could feel by just looking at them. And if you just sit there and watch you could see that first tear drop slowly make it's journey over the cheek and down over the face. Well I have been there in that place before. Sitting at the light and going threw the same motions.

Well let me say this I have times when I have to just escape away from this place and either go to the ocean and sit and watch the waves roll in and release what ever is troubling me into the water as it traces it's path back to the ocean.




Or head over towards the west where there is a wonderful lake that I found when I was much younger and in high school. This wonderful lake has the weeping willow trees tick toeing in and out around the lake with other trees. But my favorite are the weeping willows. There is a bench on the north side of the lake close to the public library that has this wonderful willow so close that the weeping branches seem to flow down and touch your shoulder as if to say your not alone and " I'll stand next to and weep with you my friend." So when this time comes from the restless feeling I pack a bag with not much in it. My toothbrush, a favorite shirt that he gave to me and sometimes a pair of worn boxers that the elastic from the band has become UN-threaded and just a small part has let go and opened (also his). My book I write my thoughts in ( and now my laptop) and a camera to take pictures of what catches my eye.
It could be a bird or animal or an elderly couple walking hand in hand as if they are holding on to something so precious that they just can't let it slip away. Anything that triggers a special a part in my soul.

The other thing that is important to my journey is a quarter. Now this is not just any quarter it's a very special quarter. It's a 2005 quarter with KANSAS 1861 on it along with a Buffalo .
(My special coin)

Now you may wonder why this is such a special coin to me. First reason it was the first coin that I found heads up that I made a wish on. Second is on the front it has a E in black marker on the top and on the back it has a W also in black marker on the bottom just under this massive creature that once was all but instinct. So laugh if you wish but from that moment on every time I came a cross one of those coins or a penny heads up or even the nickle that carries the Buffalo on it's back I take it and close my eyes and make a wish rub it between my fingers and place it in a box with all the others.

So I take this special quarter and I flip it into the air as so many people do for that heads or tails flip. This determines if I will go east or west.

The last time I flipped this coin when the restless hook me. The coin was tossed into the air and turned many times and upon landing I closed my eyes and said silent to my self "East or West the one chosen will be seen in my eyes as beauty and will help release what makes me sad and leave my heart and soul lighter". I know it's kind of stupid maybe but I do what I need to. As each of us all we choose things in our lives to help us in the times when we just can't seem to shake that gloom. Beside never knock it or put something down until you try it. Just adjust it to what you need at the time.
So the last time I tossed that quarter it went through the air and as it turned and started down I closed my eyes and said my words and then I slowly opened them and saw W so I knew which direction I would travel.
Now from where I live this lake that is west of me that I love is about an hour to and hour and fourty five minutes away. Depending on the traffic and what time you go.

So I pack my goody bag with the stuff I might need. Sometimes I pack a little more just in case I decide to stay a little longer or just keep driving (who Knows right) ...lol...

(HWY 60) (My friend Monk from the last story)

I call just one or two people usually one of those people I call in my best friend Monk. Because if I don't I'll sure hear about it somewhere down the road. Then I am off. Driving Thur traffic isn't that bad and I take my time and think as I go. I put the CD's that I have chose to listen in and just go. The closer I get to where I am going the one or two butterfly's will start flaring up but that's usually it.

Now when I turn off HWY 60 and head down on Florida Ave I feel some release. As I start getting closer into the downtown area you can see the large swan's they have made that are sited around the down town area. And let me tell you the are wonderful. With their colors and different designs. Each are different colored. Then comes the road I turn on and I can see it the lake. So beautiful and smooth as glass.





I drive slow around the lake to find a place to park. Hopefully under a large old grandfather tree that branches reach out to shade the walk way and road. Upon parking I get out and take my bag and camera and lets not to forget a loaf of bread or two. I always have to feed them. So my small bag with writing materials and camera on one shoulder and a plastic bad with no less than 2 loafs of bread I cross the small street and start up over to the lake.

(Lake Morton)
Most of the times I have been there I never park close to where I end up at. There is one place I always sit and it's over by the library under this wonderful whipping willow tree. The bench there is hard but if you take a pretty thick towel it will do so you rear doesn't get that numbing feeling after sitting a while. (Black & White and it is still lovely)

Then you sit every thing down and get comfortable and it's like they know what the bread bag sounds like. They start to come a few at first but then they start swimming across the lake and you have so many wanting to eat.

(Just looking)


(Coming for Dinner)

Out of all that are there from the ducks of many breads to the pellicans and even seagulls the favorite of mine are the swans. That's why I my self call it Swan Lake. But the real name is Lake Morton. The swans are so graceful as the swim threw the water. Like a feather in the wind floating softly as it glides to where it will take it's landing.














(Mommy and her babies)

There are white swans, black swans and even gray swans. The have fence cages that are high and locked where the nest are located and the eggs are laided. You can walk around certain times and see the eggs and the parents laying and moving around. But once the eggs hatch then there are these ugly little dowen feathered clumps moving around and in the water. It's so beautiful.

(This is just a few of the many Swan's with their babies at the lake)

I'll sit and watch them all and then it will bring back a memory and that's when I start writting.

(This is what I miss the most)

This is a very special place for me. And I have never really shared this with any one. At least any one but one special person. And this is a very special freind. So I hope if my special friend does reads this blog and see's this post will know that I have been thinking of you and I would like to tell you " life just isn't the same that your not around right now". So I guess the wishing coin a wish could be made and you know what the wish would be. And as I sit there on Swan Lake and remember when we walked around the lake and sat at the very bench under the willow tree I sit at now. You know who I wish was sitting there with me feeding the swans and ducks. You could take my hand in your's and hold it tight. Then look over at me an give me that wonderful smile you always give me.

(This was a beautiful picture)

I hope all is well with you. Hey I miss you and I hope where ever you are that if you find even if it's a few moments you find yourself having a thought of me and wondering about me. And just maybe you'll have a smile on your face and a warm thought as I do when I think of you.

(Sun Set Over Lake Morton)

If you are out here drive by and say hello to the swans. Sit at our bench and smile and make a wish. Think of me.

MEMORIES HOW WONDERFUL THEY ARE

So what is going on in your world tonight? Well in my part of the world nothing ...lol... Not that I couldn't have something going on I just choose not to right now.

It's raining slightly and I can hear the drops on the window pane. And it keeps calling to me to come out and play like a childhood friend that would knock on your window and whisper where only you could hear.

It's funny how certain things that jogs your memory and pulls you back to a time that was happy or sad.

It's these memories that I have from time to time. Like I always say to a very special friend of mine. "Memories are all I have so I file them away until I need one of them then I pull them out". Good or bad they are mine and I carry them forever.

There are memories that makes me laugh and some that make me sad. But all in all they are mine and I cherish them dearly. But when all you have at the end is a sweet memory to give you peace then you hold on to them as if they were gold. I figure if I sat down and wrote out all my memories on paper they would fade away. So I hold them dearly and close to my heart.

Not everyone has a wonderful memory. Some people can't recall what they done last night. Not to mention what they did five years ago. I know it sounds weird and sometimes I feel weird. But a very special friend has been trying to convince me over the years that I am not weird just a very special person.

Seven out of ten people that you come across can not tell you what they had for dinner last night. Now either it wasn't that great of a meal or they fall into that group of selective or no memory recall.

When you are driving what do you think about? Do you listen to music? Most normal people listens to music to block out thoughts while they drive. However if you ask anyone that knows me they will say I am not normal. I listen to music while I drive and what ever memory it brings me I think of it and either I smile or I cry.

Memories like my first day at school and my very first teacher Ms. Green. She was this little lady that always had a smile on her face. She was always so kind to all the kids. She always wore those small flower print dresses and she wore red lipstick. She was my very first human friend in life. She was so kind to me the little ugly duckling from the other side of the railroad tracks. "She was a keeper".

Another keeper was my first boy friend. Fifth grade Mrs. Judge's class. His name was Jimmy Pickle "wow" what a name. He had one blue eye and one brown eye. And I guess that was what caught my attention. Yes I am and always have been a visual person. I notice things that most other people wouldn't notice. He was very sweet. Blonde hair that feathered back on the sides and hung down to his shoulders ...lol... He gave me my first boy present. A ring one of those cheap dime store rings. Red, white, and blue and I think I still have it in a little box somewhere . He was my boy friend for two whole weeks and at that age it was a very long time. Then Wendy Maringelly came along then he was off with her. It really didn't matter because I was a tomboy then and I could have beat him up any ways. I wonder where he is now. Where ever he is I hope he is happy.

Yes I was a tomboy.... I hung-out with the boys because I couldn't be one of those prissy girl types. I didn't play with dolls or wear dresses and it didn't really matter because we were a poor family and either they were hand me downs or hand made. (That's why I don't wear hand made things now or wear other peoples cloths I did it to much when I was little).

I use to get up in the mornings and get ready like I was going to school and take my fishing hook and line and wrap it around a stick and put it in my back pocket. That's if I didn't have to hide it outside by the fence in a tin can. We would head out and hide our books in the bushes and sneak off down to the railroad track and cross the canal to the over side and fish all day...lol... That was the very simple life.

Hero's there was only one hero in my life and it was my grandfather. He was 10ft from what I remember but at that age all the adult men seemed taller than what they really were. I use to sneak out the back screen door very early in the morning and cross the alley Thur his back yard full of chickens to his back screen door. I would try to sneak in and catch him off guard but it never failed he always heard me even though he wore a hearing aid in his right ear. There he would be standing making grill cheese and turning the fire off from under the teapot. Hot tea and grill cheese sandwiches they were the best. I would sit with this gentle giant and have breakfast with him then he would take me in his old car that smelled of oldness to the park where he would sit with some of the other old giants all wearing their cowboy hats and dipping their beechnut snuff with the spit tune at each end of the bench. Their conversations were of the weather and what they were planting next or about how the chicken eggs were be taken by a raccoon or some other Fremont .

He is now long gone passed and I was 12 yrs old when he left and never returned until I saw he in that dark brown coffin. I still think he visits from time to time and that's fine with me. He was and he is still my hero.

Now my most precious memory is of the birth of my two beautiful daughters and my wonderful grandchildren. To be able to give a life and hold it in your arms and the smell of baby still gives me chills and brings that mother urges still today. Being a mother this is something we never forget. The discomfort may fade away from our memories but the birth stays there forever. And as you watch them grow you protect them in every way and teach them to be up standing adults with morals and respect. It's not an easy job but it is well worth it when you see them graduate from school and go to collage and finally walk down the isle. Then the cycle repeats it's self. You know and if you don't well get ready you'll go through so many emotions. Just wait....

I guess what my whole point is that things we experience in life stays with us. Good or bad it's these picture's and the stories we hold deep and close to the heart. These are what we recall in our later days when we sit and think of our life. The pictures and material things can all be destroyed but our memories stays. And yes there may come a time when they may get clouded and mixed up as those that have the aging sickness we call altimeter's. But don't think for once there aren't still memories there. And even then mixed up and blurred they still have comfort to the one remembering them.

So remember those moments and hold them dear. And when you do think of them saver every second of that one that comes to you. Then place it back in that special safe place in your memory file. Because one day you will need it to bring you to a special place so you may enjoy it and smile or laugh and just maybe even cry.

I have so many of them maybe I will sit down and write a book. My friend is always telling me to write. He always tells me I write wonderful and he reads everything I do write over a few times. I don't know how wonderful I write but thank you my dear sweet friend. Maybe some of the memories I have shared with you will stick and draw wonderful memories for you to hold until one day when you need them. And maybe on that day when you get to a place where you need a special memory you can give me a call and I will help you open that file and pull out a wonderful memory that we can share a tear or laughter. Something very special like those crazy sayings I use to say that made you laugh from down deep in your soul. Like they hugged my neck and the "mimia" one. I know the full moon will always stay there close to the heart and when you look at it you will think of me and smile.

Again thank you so very much for being my best friend and for giving me some of the best memories to add to my file. For making me laugh and sharing your thoughts and words with me for holding me when I cry and wiping the tears from my face. But most of all for crying with me.

Oh just in case you were wondering who my first best friend was??? It was the man in the moon... And he still is.... Thanks for all those night's you have shined your moonbeams on me. Thanks for all the tears you have kissed. And thanks for listening to all my fears and dreams.

(MY MAN IN THE MOON)