Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Vacation of the Year

I wanted to sit on the balcony and listen to the water crash up against the rocks. However, we are not in Piney Point, but Hagerstown and this is my view out the window.

Yes. Corn Stalks. And if any children come crawling out of that field of corn like the Stephen King movie, call 911.

Hagerstown is a small town. I would call it Hillbillyish. Who else on this planet has duck crossing signs and streets called Mousetown Road. I kid you not!

We did find a cute little German/Bavian place to eat in the middle of some vacant stores boarded up and across the street from a shop that sold "water pipes". Hmmmm? Bongs, perhaps. There were several to chose from just looking across the street in their window. To smoke tobacco, I am sure.

The best part of our dining experience was the server with the accent who asked Bill to remove his hat. He had to eat his meal with "hat hair", the horror of it! Next, we found a cemetery. Go figure. Us? Cemetery? Always the cemetery walker at heart.

 Yes, there are Civil War Soldiers and Generals interred here, but I was more fascinated by how people decorate their loved ones graves.

Then, I saw the largest damn mausoleum in my life.

I could not even fit the entire building in the photo shot. Then, there were the familiar stones that tell a story much like those in Laurel Hill. This is a stone with the top cut short.

Being a genealogist (among other things), I know this stone symbolizes a life taken before its time, so as I walked up closer I read this family lost three young children in the middle of the 1800's.

Another interesting stone in this particular cemetery was of a girl.

After we ate and walked in the nearby cemetery (after we checked the time the place locked the gates). Yes, We got locked in a cemetery once. At night. Until someone finally let us out. We hit the Battlefield Car Tour because you just cannot ride through enough Civil War Battlefields.

And find another cemetery.

Actually, there is an interesting story behind this family known as the Mumma's. When the battle broke out, the parents gathered their ten children and left the farm and their grounds to find safe shelter. The confederates got to the house first, and decided to burn it for fear the union would take hold of it, and use it as a place to hide snipers. After the war was over, the union rebuilt every home they destroyed as a result of the battles. The Mumma's were union. The Mumma family farm was destroyed by the confederates, therefore, the union refused to rebuild. As with every family who lived out in the rural areas, they had their own burial ground several yards from their home. Today, it is still an active farm.

Next, it was onward to Burnside's famous stone bridge. The bugs were so bad, I opted to take a picture from the top, as the very brave "real" photographer climbed down and under the bridge. I hope he checked self for ticks. I really do not need one crawling over to my side of the bed.

I was more interested in this.

We passed this on the road and I have no idea why I took this picture so do not ask.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Red Hair, Green Eyes, Freckles

When I was a little girl not more than three, I sat upon your knee on the front marble steps on a warm summer night.

When I was a little girl not more than four, I knelt at the table and watched as you kneed the dough.

When I was a little girl not more than five, I sat on a stool and played while you placed laundry through an old time ringer washer.

When I was a little girl not more than six, I come to your house for a mid-day snack.

When I was a teenager not more than sixteen, I drove grandpop's car and we laughed and laughed.

When I was a teenager not more than eighteen, I stood in amazement as I watched you and grandpop renew your wedding vows after fifty years.

When I was a young woman not more than twenty, I sat by your side as you cried for the man you called your husband and I called my grandpop.

When I was a young mother not more than twenty-seven, I went shopping with you to buy my young son his first two wheel bike.

When I was a young mother not more than twenty-eight, I rushed you to the hospital when it was not yet eight. One day would follow when I sat by your side and told you had a cancer and could possibly die.

When I was a woman not more than thirty, I sat by your bedside and held your hand until the angels came down to take you.

I am now a woman not more than fifty-three and I miss you much as today you left us 23 years ago.

I Wonder if I will ever doubt God again

Was this dream an omen or an act of God? As I received the phone call of stunning good news, three birds flew down upon my balcony. The one bird with the reddish colored head stood right outside the patio door and looked directly my way as I spoke on the phone. Five minutes later they were gone.

Is There a Title

I had the sweetest dream early this morning. I was laying in bed and my dog was laying next to me on her back with legs up in the air. (why? who knows. Oh, I do not have a dog) There was a little boy beside me and we were laughing and teasing each other. He told me he wanted his ninny. I told him it was in his crib. he told me to go get it. I told him to go get it. We laughed back and forth and he had the biggest smile. The little boy was Shaun. He was about two years old, the oldest of my grandchildren. The dream felt so real and felt so good. I woke up with a feeling of contentment.

Shaun always had that electric smile where his entire face would light up. He is going to be 12years old next month. Time goes by too quickly. I miss having little ones around but I am happy to have had such a sweet dream.

On to other stuff;

  • I made it off the chair yesterday
  • I even made it out the door to Lowes
  • Thought it was a good idea to buy bird seed
  • Maybe I can get birds over to the balcony
  • Every flower/plant/tree I tried to grow died out there
  • So why not use the vacant flower pots filled with dirt as bird feeders
  • I am sure I can't manage to kill the birds out there or maybe I can
  • Time will tell
  • In case you were wondering, the flowers/plants seem to stay alive indoors.
  • I may not be completely hopeless
  • White wine again in the house
  • No more red wine with ice cubes (gagging)
  • In a Great Wolf wine glass
Photo of the Day
"It's what's for breakfast"
Every single Blessed Day.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Going to Shake it up

Dear I have not smiled much,
  • since last Tuesday night
  • until I came across this blog yesterday and then this blog this morning
  • since I gave up the Facebook world, I have returned to the blog world
  • my life is totally exciting
  • except for the pain
  • feeling alone
  • like no one gives a shit
  • hate making decisions
  • that is grown up stuff
  • all those simpletons who want to HURRY up and GROW up, it is not so cool.
  • Trust me, I know
  • now for the chair
  • it really needs to eject me
  • I have been in it for six days
  • no lie
  • recliner + comfortable = pity party
  • do not forget the wine
  • ran out of white and hit the red
  • with ice
  • the horror of it
  • I got to get the fuck out of this chair

Pope Francis

“How important grandparents are for family life, for passing on the human and religious heritage which is so essential for each and every society. How important it is to have inter-generational exchanges and dialogue, especially within the context of the family,”

Pope Francis

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Great Article


Our nation was founded on the principles of individual freedom, free markets, private property, and limited government. As the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution reflect, people have the natural and God-given rights to live their lives any way they choose, so long as their conduct is peaceful. It is the duty of government to protect, not destroy or infringe upon, these inherent and inalienable rights.

For well over a century, the American people said “no” to such things as income taxation, Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, welfare, public schooling, economic regulations, immigration controls, drug laws, gun control, paper money, the Federal Reserve, overseas empire, militarism, entangling alliances, and foreign wars. Despite the tragic exception of slavery, the result was the most
prosperous, healthy, literate, and compassionate society in history.

In the 20th century, however, America moved in the opposite direction—in the direction of socialism, interventionism, and imperialism. The result has been massive infringements on our economic liberty, civil liberties, gun rights, and privacy, along with out-of-control federal spending, debt, and inflation, all of which have reduced our prosperity, damaged our families, and weakened our sense of morality, self-reliance, and voluntary charity.

The time has come for the American people to lead the world out of the statist morass in which it has plunged. The time has come to restore libertarian principles to our land. It is to that end that The Future of Freedom Foundation is dedicated.




The Economics Lesson Obama Needs to Learn The Future of Freedom Foundation

The Economics Lesson Obama Needs to Learn The Future of Freedom Foundation


Day #2

I am on day two of vacation and my goal is to sleep, read, write. At some point next week, we will travel south of Gettysburg, North of Harper's Ferry for a few days. Reward points are great as they cover the hotel room. I would have preferred to go back to Piney Point where you can sit out on your private balcony and listen to the water crash upon the rocks. However, it is Hagerstown for us.

August is a big decision month for us. We are at that point where some major decisions need to be made. Stay. Leave. Sell. Rent. Relocate. Remain. So much has changed in such a short time. But as I sit and daydream.........
And look upon the sky......

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Thomas Jefferson

"The man who reads nothing at all is better educated than the man who reads nothing but newspapers."

Thomas Jefferson

Philadelphia Police Corruption

It's judges gone wild! Plus sticky-fingered narcs, lying narcs, crooked deputies, and more! Let's get to it:
In Philadelphia, a Philadelphia police officer was arrested May 23 for stealing drugs and money from a suspected drug dealer. Officer Jeffrey Walker was arrested after an FBI sting operation in which agents recorded him bragging about how easy it was to rip off drug dealers. Walker and a federal informant concocted a scheme to plant cocaine in a suspect's car, then rob him. Walker did just that, arresting the suspect, then entering his home and stealing $15,000. He was arrested with the cash in hand. At last report, Walker was still in federal custody.

This Week's Corrupt Cops Stories

More trouble for Philly and its rogue narcs, an Alabama jail guard goes down, so does a Mississippi narc, and a Calfornia narc cops a plea to stealing dope for resale. Let's get to it:
In Philadelphia, another lawsuit was filed last Wednesday against the city's rogue narcs. A Philadelphia family sued the city and five individual members of a narcotics strike force over a December 2011 drug raid at their home. They claim the officers never identified themselves, burst into their home with guns drawn, "grabbed and verbally abused" them, and assaulted some of them. The suit also claims the narcotics officers falsified an affidavit used to obtain a search warrant, then fabricated evidence to support their claims that the family was involved in criminal activity. "The unlawful searches, use of force and detentions in this case were the direct result of all defendants’ pattern, practice and custom of subjecting citizens such as the plaintiffs to search, force and detention in the absence of probable cause," the complaint reads. "The defendant officers acted willfully, deliberately, maliciously or with reckless disregard of the plaintiffs’ constitutional and statutory rights." In addition to the federal civil rights count, the suit also contains supplemental state law claims of false arrest and imprisonment, assault and battery, negligent infliction of emotional distress, outrageous conduct causing emotional distress, defamation, and invasion of privacy. The Philadelphia PD has been hit by numerous lawsuits related to its narcotics squads.

This Week's Corrupt Cops Stories

Thuggery in Philly, protecting drug shipments in Houston and Detroit, sticky fingers in Los Angeles, and that's not all. Let's get to it:
In Philadelphia, five undercover narcotics officers are the subject of a civil rights lawsuit filed by a man who claims he was wrongfully arrested during a drug raid at a friend's auto shop that included acts of police brutality directed at him and others present. Thomas Basara claims the narcs used a battering ram to break down an office door and conduct a search without a search warrant.  The lawsuit says the narcs never identified themselves as police, asked those present "where the money and drugs were hidden," then brutally assaulted them. Office Thomas Liciardello was named as an officer who struck one man with a steel pipe, knocking him unconscious, then kicked him in the mouth so hard his front upper row of teeth were separated from their roots.  He also broke the man's index finger and pointed his service revolver at the man's head, threatening to kill him. Basara claims that officers also beat him, knocking out two of his teeth and causing rib and back injuries, and that the narcs stole $41,000 in cash as drug profits, but only turned in $6,600, keeping $34,400 for themselves. The other officers named in the suit are Brian Reynolds, Brian Speiser, Michael Spicer

 In Philadelphia, a Philadelphia police narcotics officer was suspended without pay last Friday for 30 days with the intent to fire him after that. Officer Gerold Gibson, the son-in-law of Gov. Tom Corbett (R), was suspended after an internal investigation that ended in a sting where he allegedly took $140 from a car wired with surveillance cameras. The investigation began last fall, when some of Gibson's colleagues voiced suspicions that he was stealing clothes, jewelry, and shoes from the homes of suspected drug dealers during raids. 

Amelia Earhart

Born July 24th at the tail end of the Victorian era in 1897:

Friday, July 26, 2013

When a Playground was a 18th Century Burial Ground

This week, a team of archaeologists broke the asphalt in four places at Weccecoe Park, digging to a depth of 3 feet to uncover evidence of the 19th century burial site. On Thursday morning, the fourth and final trench revealed a single gravestone.


"Amelia Brown, 1819, Aged 26 years" is clearly carved into the white stone, with this epitaph:
"Whosoever live and believeth in me, though we be dead, yet shall we live."
"There is no grave shaft associated with that stone, it's just sitting loose in the fill," said Douglas Mooney, senior archaeologist for URS corporation. "It was knocked over at some point, long ago, when the cemetery was filled in in the mid-19th century. It no longer marks an actual grave. It's just a loose stone in the ground.""

The gravestone is the pièce de résistance for this dig, but not the goal. Mooney and his team found evidence of many grave shafts, and stone walls representing the border of the cemetery. They have been digging to determine exactly where the cemetery limits are, and how far down. The team stopped digging several feet shy of where actual bones could be.
"It should leave a nice buffer that will ensure the cemetery will not be disturbed," said Mooney.

Burial ground once beyond city limits
Amelia Brown was likely a member of Weccecoe Park, the oldest African-American church in the country. At the time, the late 18th century, cemeteries in Philadelphia would not accept black people.

Also at the time, the property near Fourth and Queen streets was not within Philadelphia city limits, so Mother Bethel A.M.E. bought it as a private cemetery in 1810 and used it as such until 1864.
Then the property languished, was abandoned, was used as a dump. In 1888, the property was sold to the city to pay for a new church that's still in use today. The site lay vacant a few more years until the city developed a playground on it.

By then the memory of the dead had faded smooth. Mother Bethel Church left nothing behind to mark the burial site.

"It gives us a chance to really do right," said Rev. Mark Tyler, the current head of Mother Bethel A.M.E.

"Unfortunately, like a lot of churches that start cemeteries -- because of the pressing financial issues of keeping a church going -- it ran on really hard times. It's not one of our shining examples that we're proud of. This gives us a chance to redo history a second time."

Chance discovery and impetus for action

Historian Terry Buckalew accidentally stumbled on a mention of the cemetery while researching the 19th century civil rights activist Octavius Catto for a documentary film project. He discovered a record of Catto's wife buried at Bethel Burying Ground, a site he had never heard of.
"I said, 'I can't be smart enough to find something that nobody else knows about,'" said Buckalew.
"Any minute I expected to find a shelf full of books, or whatever. I didn't find anything."
Buckalew set about gathering as much information as he could, coming up with almost 1,500 names of the interred (and counting), estimating another 1,500 names are still out there. He intended to make all the information publicly accessible on genealogical databases, so African Americans would be able to track their lineage
That all changed when the city announced plans to renovate the playground, involving new trees and underground utility lines.

"There goes the tweed-jacket, leather-patched, absent-minded-professor, all-I'm-doing-is-a-project," said Buckalew. "Oh, God, I gotta be an activist."

Buckalew got in touch with the church, members of City Council, and neighborhood civic groups to present his research and urge action to preserve the graves.
This week's archaeological dig was to determine what exactly is under the asphalt, and where.
Next, all parties will set about devising a plan to properly remember what lies beneath.


"Holder also said Snowden would not be tortured and would have all the protections of the U.S. civilian court if he were to come home from the Moscow airport where he has been hiding out.
The assurances were revealed in a letter dated July 23 and released on Friday, seeking to dispel claims about what would happen to Snowden if Russia handed him over to face charges of illegally disclosing government secrets about surveillance programs, Holder said."

Are you fucking kidding me? Has anyone experienced the justice system in this country? Define protection of the U.S. civilian court? Define Torture? I hope Russia does not have their heads in their asses like the U.S.

Snowden uncovered the illegal activities of this so called (cough!) protective civilian justice system and now the Higher Ups want him back and dead. Yes. Dead!

Do not believe them, Putin. I have witnessed first hand what those in power do with our constitution besides not follow it. They torture. They punish. They threaten the lives of jurors if the verdict does not come out to their liking. Guilty until proven innocent and while you are waiting to be proven innocent, you risk losing your job, home, children, life because those in power abuse their power and do not give a shit that it is a human being beneath their abuse. Oh and by the way, expect the real guilty party to run free.

Just asked Obama? He made a point of giving his very bias opinion on a recent verdict handed down by jurors who now fear for their very lives.

To bad there are not more citizens out there who have the balls to stand up for what is right.

Kelly Clarkson - Because Of You

51,645 Page Views

Thank You!

Breaking Ties

I was hurt and wounded when I first began my recovery journey. I thought I was honest but I was not. I lived like a chameleon. Whatever I needed to be to receive acceptance and approval or to keep the peace was what I would do or be on any given moment. And, I believed what I was told by the people who hurt me to control me. I believed I had no where else to go. This nightmare was all there was for me.

I made many assumptions about what I thought other people thought about me and the range was from pity to fraud. The bottom line is that I had no idea who the real me was. Desperately I held onto the idea that the only way I was going to feel better was for the people who had hurt me to make things right. It did not matter that there were some things that simply could not be undone. To me it was a no win situation.

I find myself in this abyss of existence and I do not know how to get out. Being told by someone whom you thought cared, "I did not answer the phone because I did not want to deal with you" or to reach out to talk because the pain within is so great and being told, " I will be over to sit by the pool so we can chat only to be contacted later that it was not a good day". That was a month ago. Sounds like a pity party. Partly, it could be. I guess the other part is a lesson. People are not always who they pretend to be. People lie. People have their own agenda. The only person one can really count on is self. Oh Wait! John actually called me to check up. God Bless John!

I knew that I would retire to Florida. I expected that would be in 17 years as I planned to retire at age 70yrs old. I am now considering relocating in November. Lease is up. Bill's three year contract is up. I have my license so I can work anywhere. Place house back on the market. Florida is the Rehab Capitol of the Country. I really do not have anyone keeping me here. Everyone is busy with their lives.  Prior relationships have changed and after all this time, I do not see they will be different. The life I had envisioned for myself has never came to pass. A life of children giggling through my house. Cutting up strawberries at the kitchen sink. Tasting those strawberries. Dancing the popcorn dance as the popcorn pops in the microwave. Walks in the park feeding the ducks, petting the baby horses, vacationing at Dutch Wonderland, listening to nighttime whispers between little ones, laughter, singing, playing games, watching movies while cuddling. It is all gone. All over. 

I have not allowed myself to grieve fully the loss. I always had other people's opinions rattling in my head. Time to grieve. Time to block out the opinions. Time to let things fall where they may.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

I Won't Let Go - Rascal Flatts - Lyrics

I Loved Her First Lyrics

Krystal Keith - Daddy Dance With Me

For all the little girls who were fortunate to have a daddy in their lives and for all the little girls who never had that chance.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

I Could

Write about that beautiful unique yellow bird with the black stripes I saw on my drive home from work tonight. I could write about the Abuse of Power in the City, State and Federal levels and rant and rant and RANT! I could write about my new cell phone which is pretty cool and  how nice it is to have a phone that actually does charge. I could write about my second full day and night off the FB circuit. I could write about how much I do not FEEL LIKE teaching that class tomorrow night. I could write about the cat. Yeah. Really. The cat. No lie. I could write about my stop at Boston Market to pick up dinner after I purchased that new cell phone. Yeah. Boston Market. I could write about the last time I stopped at a Boston Market. 20 or so odd years ago?

I could write about this worry and fear within and I could mention the sound of his voice right now would be perfect. But I will not because I can not.

Maybe I could write about that slice of apple pie I ate and how I skipped the gym instead.

I could.




Second Day of Social Media Disconnect

A new King has been born! Funny, I remember when William was born and now he has a child of his own. I am a lover of history, which includes European history and that covers anything royal. Especially, I love when royalty ran countries and were not just a figure head. Nonetheless, royal life is interesting since it is so different than our life.

I made most of my goals yesterday. I did not get the break I wanted at work, however, I worked an eight hour day. That in of itself is an achievement considering it was a Monday. Mondays can be especially difficult. After work I went bike riding and swimming. Swimming after riding was cool and relaxing until it started to rain. I remained in the pool as it rained until the thunder came rolling in. I found myself reading not playing games last night. Yes. I remain off FB. At one point, I wondered what else could I do? I continued to read and completed several chapters of my book.

Yesterday on my drive home from work, I passed the horses and noticed the two new foals are growing up fast. The horses still attract many people who stop along the road to pet and feed them.

Birds are chirping. Time for a second cup of coffee and meditation before I begin my work day.