tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60766606078901386562024-03-05T11:54:48.098-05:00glebe homie©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.comBlogger203125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-39354098206423462012-02-03T17:17:00.004-05:002012-02-03T17:37:35.324-05:00Ode to spring, or something like that...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Hollo blog, how are ya?"</span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">"Long time no write!" </span></span></span></span> </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">"Yeah, that happens sometimes."</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">"...it's been a while as you know so bare with me..."</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">"Oh? So don't expect much?"</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">"Oh do shut up and let me get on with this!"</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">A-n-y-w-a-y...</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">~</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Funny the things that make you write. Most times for me it is sparked by others writings; others shared experience. Today it was while I was reading a friends blog about her public life, public divorce, and guess what: lack of writing!</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Funny when the Muse can strike you too. Today it was while defrosting a frozen pizza case! ...not exactly conducive to writing when you're on your knees inside a freezer, hands covered with gloves, spraying water over an ice encrusted coil with a door slamming in your ribs. Then you look up and see a price sticker for "Simply Inspired Pizza" and all you know is: <i>"I have to get outa here and write something!"</i> Anything, something, cause you know you've needed to write, ever since you read your friends blog this morning!</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;">~</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">The thing that stuck with me <i>(well, <u>the things</u> that stuck with me)</i> and somehow sparked the muse <i style="text-decoration: none;">(and this is why I'm still in the parking lot at work writing this on my iPhone)</i> was how honestly she shared about the difficulties with <i>"Divorce"</i> and how well she's dealing with it. I'm sure it doesn't seem to her that she's dealing with it all that well; but having gone through something myself that was much more acrimonious; I feel I can see this as an outside observer. Personal experience it always more vivid so I deduce based solely from the point of view that she seems to me to be a lot stronger than I was at that stage by her writings. Everyone's experiences are valid to the individual as they say, and well, I'm impressed. There is a strength there that I suppose I had; because after all I transcended it somehow... <i>but "Damn!"</i> I don't remember being that composed!</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Poetry and Faith or a combination of the two, coupled with the overwhelming desire to protect my kids were the stuff that kept me going. As much as I tried civility was a tuff go for a long time being the only practitioner of it (or so it seemed) in the relationship. Ugh! </span></span></span></span> </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">~</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">I don't like to write about the bad stuff in my life so maybe that's why I haven't been here in a while. Who wants to hear me whine about this old people's disease. Do you really want to hear about my bile duct? No. That's because it has to do with: "<i><b>bile</b>"</i> for God's sake! </span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Ewww! </span></span></span></span> </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;">~</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">What REALLY made me want to write today though was her mention of somehow being stranded. </span></span></span></span> </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;">~</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Friends of mine always long for the sea. They feel somehow washed up here. I think I remember having wanderlust in my youth; but never a longing for the sea. I'd been there often, got sunburned almost every time, and wasn't with the right person or something. Strange thing is I married an <i>"Island Girl"</i> from the BWI. She always felt the call of the sea too. Perhaps that dampened my enthusiasm. ...who knows... ?</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;">~</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">I'm a freshwater Piscean if you will. I come alive in the creek beds. Walking along the banks, dipping my toes in the ripples, soothed by the sounds of a different surf. So I've never felt landlocked as long as there was a river or stream nearby. </span></span></span></span> </div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">My water runs down to the sea it doesn't come in from it. I always feel I am the beginning; that goes outward from place. I'm content (mostly) where I am watching as it moves to it's destination. It seems somehow constant to me. Comforting. Unlike the arrival of a wave from some far and distant shore. Coming as it were from the unknown and bringing with it the unknown. I know where the creek water starts. I know it as it passes over stones that I see </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">everyday. Let it pass me by. Let it go out from here and find its way...</span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/i0o79zv1sKk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><br />
</div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">Like words, that flow when the muse strikes. In the car while reading or from a hose over coil. Freshwater Piscean; I like the sound of that.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">obeeduid~</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">03/Feb/02</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; page-break-after: auto; page-break-inside: auto; text-align: justify; text-decoration: none; widows: 2;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;"> </span></span></span></span> </div></div>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-25321698042397783542011-11-11T16:40:00.005-05:002011-11-12T10:22:10.645-05:0011/11/11 Today in our family history! Did I just hear my children yawn???<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Today is a BIG day in our family history! What? What!! Did I just hear my children yawn??? Well, guess what, I'm gunna tell this story anyway and someday you will thank me for it when you can tell your own children.<br />
<br />
Who am I kidding? If I know you as well as I think I do you'll look it up on the Internet and hand them the iPad and tell them to read it instead. Hmmm, maybe that's not a bad idea... <br />
<br />
Alright, in that case I'll just write directly to them!<br />
<br />
Dear future grandkids, this is your Gran-Pappy speaking and I just want you to know that this is a Big day in your family history! <br />
<br />
...What? Was that a yawn?? No? No, I couldn't believe that you would find this as boring as your parents did when They were young!!!<br />
<br />
NNNEVER! ;)<br />
<br />
O.K., enough of this A-typical-Irish-tangent...<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
On this day: November 11th 1859; our forefather Robert Gilmour stepped off of the ship "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">Empire State</span></span>" onto the docks at Castle Garden in Manhattan N.Y.C. We assume he was met by his cousins the Glenn's (his mother's family) and began his life as a Cooper in a shop in lower Manhattan in the area known as "Five Points." Ever see that movie "The Gangs of New York"??? Yep; dem's are our people!!!<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
On this day: November 11th 1918; Veterans Day, formerly Armistice Day, became an annual United States holiday honoring military veterans. It is a federal holiday that is observed on November 11. It coincides with other holidays such as Armistice Day or Remembrance Day, which are celebrated in other parts of the world and also mark the anniversary of the signing of the Armistice that ended World War I. (Major hostilities of World War I were formally ended at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918 with the German signing of the Armistice.)<br />
<br />
On this day we remember all our our forefathers who served and/ or fought and died for our country. Most importantly we remember James Gilmour the brother of Robert Gilmour who died in the Battle of Fair Oaks/Seven Pines in 1862 during the Peninsula campaign. If you haven't seen or read his letter's or my transcriptions of them yet: Kick your parents in the A** for me in abstentia!!!!!!<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
Last but not least...<br />
<br />
On this day: November 11th 1925; your forefather (Me Da) James Gilmour O'Brien was born in Brooklyn N.Y. and because it was Veterans Day he always had his Birthday off! This was pretty HUGE to me as you might expect 'cause without him there would be no me. No me; no you! :)<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
Every year I try to commemorate this day in some special way. This year I have written a poem for my Dad. I found this picture the other day and the truth is I never thought about him as a young man. We all are at one time, but thats not how I personally knew him: so although I realize he like I and perhaps you; was once young and handsome and maybe even "Cool!" I never imagined him that way. Until now:<br />
<br />
<b>Hey Dad, is that you?</b><br />
<br />
I'm almost as old <br />
as you were when you retired.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpwznmuyeYQp5b_pG4AKSX2jLdJnvEsZgP7116ykZ90SNI_fGigG5XpAEJqvDyK0pRZbdvVt1yzLnPPi7lc_3cGJ9a4LXtKF35iy_j-XwefxLYMuHqcg96KanIUKSOwzOm1dFecnjiabP7/s1600/Cool+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpwznmuyeYQp5b_pG4AKSX2jLdJnvEsZgP7116ykZ90SNI_fGigG5XpAEJqvDyK0pRZbdvVt1yzLnPPi7lc_3cGJ9a4LXtKF35iy_j-XwefxLYMuHqcg96KanIUKSOwzOm1dFecnjiabP7/s320/Cool+Dad.jpg" width="296" /></a></div>In this picture <br />
you're as old as I was back then.<br />
<br />
That was a different time<br />
and Retirement<br />
is a long way off <br />
for me.<br />
<br />
Were you really <br />
this young?<br />
This Cool?<br />
Was I ever cool?<br />
<br />
You must have been<br />
lest I would not now <br />
be walking <br />
in your footsteps.<br />
<br />
Soon<br />
I will be <br />
the age you were <br />
when you died.<br />
<br />
With luck <br />
I'll enter those woods<br />
Where your footprints <br />
stopped<br />
<br />
I'll continue <br />
onward<br />
tread those steps <br />
you never walked.<br />
<br />
With faith, I will<br />
break new ground<br />
look ahead<br />
and not turn back.<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
Happy 86th Birthday Da! :')<br />
<br />
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />
obeedúid~</div>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-24376197453029527082011-08-29T12:24:00.000-04:002011-08-29T12:24:49.661-04:00A Journal of Hurricane Irene and it's aftermath in Clarksville N.Y.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I started out the day (yesterday) wondering if the new sump pump was going to last... <br />
<br />
Devin came home from a double shift so I let him sleep for a few hours while I monitored things. Then the power went out. The pump has a battery backup so I didn't bother waking him until it looked like the pump was incapable of keeping up. It turns out the battery only runs the first pump and moves a minimal amount of water so I gave in and woke him up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1889.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1889.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
We jury rigged power to his truck and he went out looking for an alternate power supply.<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
Meanwhile I sat and stewed 'cause I was without Internet or him or Sarah. <br />
<br />
When he finally got back we assembled the Generator he bought for a price I will not discuss here. ("...Last one in Albany County...")<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
While it started to remove water (...which by then was halfway up the water tank and boiler...) we headed out for more gasoline. <br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1890.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1890.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1893.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1893.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1894.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1894.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
<br />
As we were crossing the bridge at the end of Sligerlands Ave. Just up the street we saw rescue workers preparing an attempt to help someone who apparently got to close to the overflowing creek. ("...if you weren't with me I would stop and help but I know you would worry about me...") <br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1895.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1895.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
We drove backroads through Onesquethaw and Glenmont to the Walmart's. Devin drives like rescue personal so I spent much of the ride with my eyes closed. We drove through water, around downed trees eventually making it the Walmart's unscathed. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1896.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1896.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
~<br />
<br />
We got backup gas cans and filled up across the street and headed back in due time. Along the way back we slowed for some pics and video. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1898.jpg"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1898.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
This is the Selkirk Train-yards.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1899.jpg"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1899.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
This is along Rt 296<br />
<br />
The battery on my good camera died so I had to resort to using my phone. Once back in Clarksville we turned up the street to "Jake Moons" for a look at where the creek crosses Delaware Turnpike. The quality is not much but the damage was nasty. :(<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1900.jpg"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1900.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
Mill Road, or whats left of it... Across from Jake Moon's Restaurant on Delaware Turnpike (Rt 442) <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1901.jpg"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1901.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
The same location looking up the hill in the direction of Stovepipe RD.<br />
This Video, 'though poor quality phone video should put these two pics into perspective:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxVBfzLujMCq5e8DFvUL17M3fvYGieifeErYO0g93nAaqhZXo_gGV1NEUVk7VOe9lsywqQN55QZ8kL41LHVnw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>(...as they say: "Dramatic Video!" It was actually worse earlier when I tried to go this way and it was washing across the road. Alas I lacked my brain at that point and forgot I had my phone with me! Duh!<br />
<div><br />
</div><br />
<br />
<i><u>I'm posting these now after sending them to my iMac when I got online finally) I couldn't seem to get the iPad to recognize the phone card.</u></i> :(<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
I am right now keeping myself busy waiting for the water in the basement to subside while Devin is out "Playing with the Fire Department". (...Doing "Pump-outs" emptying neighbors cellars...) <br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1902.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1902.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
That is the assembly manual for that new sump pump with a battery backup. ("...Irony...")<br />
<br />
I don't have internet now so I will not be posting this for some time. More than likely the net will not be back up till tomorrow but this is keeping me occupied and keeping my mind off the cost of the new Water Heater and Boiler I am going to have to buy. Ugh! :( <br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
The wind keeps picking up and the trees are not handling it well. We shall see what the next few hours bring. Hopefully less than the previous hours have wrought. <br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
Checked on the basement. Down to about six inches left. I managed to run a power cord to the fridge for the time being so the food in the freezer is safe. I suppose I could light stove with a match for cooking but I'm eating things that require no cooking for the now. We may need the propane later so I'll get by with peanut butter on a roll. As long as we have the Generator there doesn't seem to be a rush.<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
The Generator has been running through the night and there still is no power in the 'Ville. The Cellar is sumped and the pump is keeping up. <br />
<br />
We are only using 14% of the Generators power so I plugged in the T.V. to catch the news. It seems that a neighbor drowned on Slingerlands St. near the bridge when she was looking at the flood waters. No word yet on if they managed to recover the body. :(<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
Devin came home around midnight and I slept most of the night on the couch. Sarah stayed in Voorheesville overnight. I managed to contact my siblings before bed and they are all alive and "relatively" unaffected. <br />
<br />
I had to live in "The Hinterlands" :')<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
Morning. 30/Aug/11 ...it's a beautiful day! Sunny and in the 70's...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1903.jpg"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1903.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
Generator still generating, Pump still running, water still coming in, and no power yet. But my feet are dry! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1904.jpg"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1904.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
Devin and I waded in several times between shutting things off, trying to collect floating debris and restating the pumps yesterday.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1905.jpg"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1905.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="210" /></a></center><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1906.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1906.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
The plan for today is to trace wires and mark them on the panel which the previous owner never got around to doing. If the power comes on I might never know otherwise as I have shut off the Main Breaker since we are unsure as to what breakers go to the Water Heater and The Boiler.<br />
<br />
If I get the chance later I will run down to the store for supplies and try to post this from the parking lot on free wi-fi.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1907.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1907.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Down into the hole once more!</div><center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/29/1908.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/29/s_1908.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
The Power is back on as you can see. I am using my iMac to repost this with video. Needed a break so I figured I would do this and dry out for a bit... Gotta get back to work around here now though! ...and maybe run out to the store. Which road I will take remains to be seen. :')<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />
obeedúid~</div>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-77779956691268692762011-08-17T03:18:00.002-04:002011-08-17T10:51:20.482-04:00Shunpiker.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Some time back I wrote a blog about<b> </b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avon_(village),_New_York"><b>Avon N.Y</b></a>. Which included a poem about my childhood there. It was written in Ullans and featured the Cannons in the village square prominently as a motif entitled <a href="http://glebehomie.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-if-beave-were-ulster-scot.html"><b>"What if the Beave were an Ulster Scot"</b></a>. That blog was reprinted by bIRD in his magazine Rootdrinker. Through that poem and the life it took on I met the Poet John Roche. <br />
<br />
bIRD, suggested back then that we should go to Avon and we planned on it. Something came up I can't now remember and he went without me. They did a reading at the Cannons in the village square.<br />
<br />
Since then we have had a running joke about how the bIRD sole my childhood... <br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
A week or so ago we all piled into the bIRD Mobile and cruised up the Northway to see John as the featured poet at <a href="http://www.caffelenahistory.org/index.php?2"><b>Cafe Lena</b></a>. We met at <a href="http://www.partingglasspub.com/"><b>the Parting Glass</b></a> as is our want and then strolled down the streets of Saratoga to the reading. It was a wonderful night of poetry and John was at his best!<br />
<br />
I came home with John's collection of poems entitled <i>"On Conesus"</i> which I consumed rather rapidly as it also figures prominently in the mythos of my childhood. Over the course of the immediate ensuing days I conceived another poem sparked by my memories.<br />
<br />
The following is the result:<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
<u>*Shunpiker:</u><br />
<br />
I am getting into a car<br />
in my mind<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/16/4808.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/16/s_4808.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
I am getting into a surf green<br />
1962 Impala in my mind<br />
<br />
I am driving down route 20<br />
in my mind<br />
<br />
I am leaving the home<br />
of adulthood <br />
<br />
I am driving down the road<br />
of youth <br />
in my mind<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/16/4809.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/16/s_4809.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<br />
Sitting, not driving actually<br />
in the back seat of my fathers<br />
Surf Green '62 Impala<br />
<br />
With my family<br />
all of them<br />
alive and in the bosom<br />
of the retinue of love<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We are sharing Neco Wafers<br />
and giving all the licorice ones <br />
to my sister<br />
<br />
<a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/16/4810.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/16/s_4810.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 5px;" width="320" /></a>We are passing<br />
the Tepee Giftshoppe <br />
where we never stop<br />
<br />
<br />
<center></center><br />
We are entering<br />
Cherry Valley<br />
my baby brother sleeping<br />
<br />
We are coming up<br />
on the first<br />
Burma Shave sign<br />
<br />
We take turns reading <br />
each sign<br />
as they arrive <br />
and pass by <br />
the car window:<br />
<br />
"Don't lose" my father starts<br />
"your head" my brother reads<br />
"To gain a minute" my other brother says<br />
"You need your head" my sister intones<br />
"You're brains are in it" I blurt from memory<br />
for I cannot yet read<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/16/4811.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="94" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/16/s_4811.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 5px;" width="281" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center></center><br />
BURMA SHAVE! We all shout<br />
Mom joining in<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/08/16/4812.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/08/16/s_4812.jpg" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; margin-top: 5px;" width="281" /></a><br />
We are passing<br />
the Petrified Creatures Museum <br />
a tourist attraction my father says:<br />
"...is not worth the money<br />
it would cost<br />
the seven of us to get in."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center></center><br />
...all the more change for trinkets<br />
in the amusement park <br />
at long Point<br />
on Conesus lake<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVXQ92KjEe0Tq4Q7cgQWirfYcR78XhsAPx9HkX89eYDVZDgAIZs55tUNNnT6ZvdvXavKgwiWplKXr4d6Xi_2LzKQ79hrYXPHAQby9IhmqXo8iINA6FObbro8pK-n3Ac1FKBYjG662tf6Q/s1600/usrt20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZVXQ92KjEe0Tq4Q7cgQWirfYcR78XhsAPx9HkX89eYDVZDgAIZs55tUNNnT6ZvdvXavKgwiWplKXr4d6Xi_2LzKQ79hrYXPHAQby9IhmqXo8iINA6FObbro8pK-n3Ac1FKBYjG662tf6Q/s320/usrt20.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
I sleep<br />
we nap on and off<br />
Dad leads a round of <br />
"The Bear Went Over<br />
The Mountain."<br />
as the Finger Lakes pass by<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz8xiE8iBgLku8-cD-KvTCu2IqAOXAfH-cVXgnOIzHUOeFJwckp437M8vIf1WmU7SQV_cI-sLWDzzQcgqZsYd71FTzG9WVJw7u2AFzojk1QYs_Wonccx363n_1NPdIbbn7vu8hw8Q2-hhp/s1600/WhiteHorse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz8xiE8iBgLku8-cD-KvTCu2IqAOXAfH-cVXgnOIzHUOeFJwckp437M8vIf1WmU7SQV_cI-sLWDzzQcgqZsYd71FTzG9WVJw7u2AFzojk1QYs_Wonccx363n_1NPdIbbn7vu8hw8Q2-hhp/s320/WhiteHorse.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
We are in Avon now<br />
and the last landmark is sighted!<br />
<br />
The White Horse<br />
there it stands<br />
at the gas station<br />
a sentry guarding childhood<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg082UIieLwZKUwJMZCFFFcl03ELNha6VMK7TSJIPr6NhG1lTzPFAtaTnId0q00JH2mio9-AaN59MgYdn-Cxfzl1gI3lnNslYsZfFqJmqVd7kREurw_GzxgEPHcGZlIyJCm-31Vj2QgYC1f/s1600/AvonInn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg082UIieLwZKUwJMZCFFFcl03ELNha6VMK7TSJIPr6NhG1lTzPFAtaTnId0q00JH2mio9-AaN59MgYdn-Cxfzl1gI3lnNslYsZfFqJmqVd7kREurw_GzxgEPHcGZlIyJCm-31Vj2QgYC1f/s320/AvonInn.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Now we pass the Avon Inn<br />
burned down for the 3rd time<br />
since it's historic beginning<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs89R7xJ5M9H7PjNrgUS1MZQiYpiSbeHh8PmKqZkkU7sw40ey_85uUj437R1qXvxV1g_osqA5cbkJwGOjXx1jZRALG6mY4DTLx8VqOYPHrO51wJr2nzq4rNJBVqb1xHmZeKISU3l7YO6ZO/s1600/cannons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs89R7xJ5M9H7PjNrgUS1MZQiYpiSbeHh8PmKqZkkU7sw40ey_85uUj437R1qXvxV1g_osqA5cbkJwGOjXx1jZRALG6mY4DTLx8VqOYPHrO51wJr2nzq4rNJBVqb1xHmZeKISU3l7YO6ZO/s320/cannons.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Now Lacy Street<br />
where I was born<br />
and just for fun <br />
once around the Village Circle<br />
where the Civil War<br />
Cannons rest<br />
past the Barbershop<br />
around the sleeping dog<br />
in the road<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Then back up the hill <br />
and into the Mulvaney's driveway<br />
right across the street <br />
from the old homestead<br />
<br />
Hugs, laughter, and the sound<br />
of Mr Mulvaney's laugh<br />
Mrs Mulvaney's smile<br />
<br />
<br />
Into the car again<br />
That Surf Green<br />
'62 Chevy Impala<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65cf0ecyYusWVWLWmHsP-4lkNmCpYh-xhHN9ZVDRJoI_zZS_zsdLWrx6tzgLlUtIGoMBxWcFYtYOnWa1z7_ZEaCSViz6-fUfNV5QY2fCpVR7X2Vh0trWM8uT2NoIVOQsPPQhWsx5VFWxS/s1600/LacyStreet58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65cf0ecyYusWVWLWmHsP-4lkNmCpYh-xhHN9ZVDRJoI_zZS_zsdLWrx6tzgLlUtIGoMBxWcFYtYOnWa1z7_ZEaCSViz6-fUfNV5QY2fCpVR7X2Vh0trWM8uT2NoIVOQsPPQhWsx5VFWxS/s320/LacyStreet58.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
Into the car in my mind<br />
Into the car<br />
and we cross the road<br />
driving slowly<br />
under the umbrella<br />
of trees lining Lacy street<br />
past the old home<br />
for old times sake<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
the end of the road<br />
the school<br />
the football field <br />
a path no longer open<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2eMMt3JMSSuuHdH_iRO1C2ape85Pthl3v0m43iZz-GgMW9pGsbnGpYbqmEg3rIPR1XrwC64Pxi6I8iKD_7hP3sQS2coOZjTiX0qdA5oP2CDZETjG0O5vqogW8Ljswq2mBSWVv7z4JwQPa/s1600/ConesusLake+Pic+rotated.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2eMMt3JMSSuuHdH_iRO1C2ape85Pthl3v0m43iZz-GgMW9pGsbnGpYbqmEg3rIPR1XrwC64Pxi6I8iKD_7hP3sQS2coOZjTiX0qdA5oP2CDZETjG0O5vqogW8Ljswq2mBSWVv7z4JwQPa/s320/ConesusLake+Pic+rotated.jpg" width="320" /></a>Back <br />
Back out to Rt 20<br />
then backtrack <br />
to Rochester Road <br />
turning south<br />
<br />
We have the key<br />
We have the key to Mulvaney's Cottage<br />
<br />
the journey over<br />
the summer about to begin!<br />
<br />
Down<br />
down memories road<br />
down the road to the lake<br />
onto Pebble Beach Road<br />
<br />
We pull in <br />
We pile out<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2xJTINeonk_08uY2dNmv_s-rCvKq0mbi6nLKR1qV0QCZcwh0ft6n4z7Z83_EropUe0JvM8XBYqOUWPcps0FBeh9AcOtYSYBykazHf7lD8TkrMFyfbteO1hWwH0ndpFr9zZDs29bC86pZf/s1600/ConesusLake+Pics_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2xJTINeonk_08uY2dNmv_s-rCvKq0mbi6nLKR1qV0QCZcwh0ft6n4z7Z83_EropUe0JvM8XBYqOUWPcps0FBeh9AcOtYSYBykazHf7lD8TkrMFyfbteO1hWwH0ndpFr9zZDs29bC86pZf/s320/ConesusLake+Pics_0003.jpg" width="319" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I smell the water<br />
I hear the boats<br />
I feel the pebbles<br />
teasing and arguing<br />
with my feet<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqecPa8xTBhhjt-249WJp7S_YOpgJvRSeWi-H2Jm6IEeDhSBINhGbWP4FCVUfCqfEDv7fcvmYL9M92pFzKjFhpbFtFvhTg-KlzAt7siU6RTJ9RzPjkf2FkTOgLTE6M51A708njJw5yR2Q8/s1600/ConesusLake+Pics_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqecPa8xTBhhjt-249WJp7S_YOpgJvRSeWi-H2Jm6IEeDhSBINhGbWP4FCVUfCqfEDv7fcvmYL9M92pFzKjFhpbFtFvhTg-KlzAt7siU6RTJ9RzPjkf2FkTOgLTE6M51A708njJw5yR2Q8/s320/ConesusLake+Pics_0002.jpg" width="316" /></a><br />
I know <br />
I will fall sleep<br />
content<br />
to the sound of <br />
"Skee-ball <br />
Try your luck!<br />
...only 10¢ a ball!"<br />
<br />
surrounded <br />
by trinkets, <br />
bubblegum<br />
shells<br />
and odd shaped rocks<br />
<br />
I hear the boats<br />
I know I will wake to fog <br />
and the sound of trolling fishermen<br />
<br />
the smell of bacon<br />
and mother<br />
drinking coffee<br />
<br />
waiting for the men<br />
to return with Perch<br />
fried up for breakfast<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oZ4vRUHZsj9Hw33-l1mskVPx6oNa9YNv40nGq6ZPnDummmrzw2M4GiOc4enDhpaz0HD2tdim83ip7077inQj1bSXNvXIqmFRgvSJ3gbFzuOjwpXJ2eNX64q_LbeahHOzia7ljqI5Q0so/s1600/ConesusLake+Pics_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oZ4vRUHZsj9Hw33-l1mskVPx6oNa9YNv40nGq6ZPnDummmrzw2M4GiOc4enDhpaz0HD2tdim83ip7077inQj1bSXNvXIqmFRgvSJ3gbFzuOjwpXJ2eNX64q_LbeahHOzia7ljqI5Q0so/s320/ConesusLake+Pics_0001.jpg" width="316" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
we will all be there<br />
alive <br />
and in the bosom<br />
of family.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
obeedúid~<br />
07-12/Aug/11 <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*Shunpiker: one who avoids the turnpikes and highways preferring instead to take the slower backroads for the sheer pleasure and relaxation of it. <br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
<b>Then something unexpected happened!</b><br />
<br />
We did a reading at the <a href="http://pinehollowarboretum.blogspot.com/2011/08/poetry-at-arboretum-2011.html"><b>Pine Hollow Arboretum</b></a> this past Friday the 12th of august. I opened with the preceding poem. It took on a life of it's own! <br />
<br />
A retired couple who are sailing around the world in their yacht came to do the tour of the Arboretum and stayed for the poetry reading as well. Their boat I was told was parked somewhere exotic like the Caribbean and they came to Slingerlands N.Y. to visit by some other form of travel.<br />
<br />
After the reading, they came up to me and very enthusiastically told me how much they like my poem! ...it seems they lived in Avon for many years and knew the places I was reminiscing about!<br />
<br />
That blew me away, but it doesn't end there... The next day at work I was telling a coworker about it and he stopped me short. "Avon?" he said. "This is the second time this week I ever heard of this place! Just the other day I was talking to a family friend and I asked her where she was. She said she was staying with some family in a place called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avon_(village),_New_York"><b>Avon N.Y</b></a>.! That's amazing obee!"<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
The plan at this moment is for bIRD and I to attempt another trip this fall. This time I will make it! ...if I don't go sooner before the end of the summer. ...somehow, I feel I am being called. YAH THINK!?!?<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
<b>P.S.:</b><br />
Just in case you think I'm making this up, while I was checking the spelling for <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=5X0_C5dmsr8C&pg=PA71&lpg=PA71&dq=mulvaney+avon+n.y.&source=bl&ots=aH48smL8_f&sig=rgXUIQIONO-RqTP5Cc_YgeOyCAA&hl=en&ei=EmdLTtrUG5SugQe4kpxz&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=5&sqi=2&ved=0CD0Q6AEwBA#v=onepage&q=mulvaney%20avon%20n.y.&f=false"><b>Mulvaney</b></a> I googled the name. Guess what! There is a book available on google books Written by the eldest Mulvaney a contemporary of my eldest brother containing their family tree compete with pictures of their parents whom I mention in the poem. I have found more photos from those summers on the lake not included here with both families swimming and picnicking at the lake. If I ever manage to get in contact with the family I'll have to share those too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />
obeedúid~</div>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-89697424243770366012011-06-10T18:49:00.004-04:002011-06-10T19:04:15.110-04:00I saw the face of God today!Say what you will. Some things you just have to take on faith alone. This story is one of them. I am not making this up but I have no proof. Well, there was at least one witness to the initial moments of what transpired; but the "ah-ha" was between me a God alone.<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
I was feeling down. Not my normally "life-is-always-good-self" if you will. All the crazy *#@! going down with the Re-model at work has been weighing heavy. I have been telling my subordinates at work that when all is said and done we are going to be "SO MUCH BETTER!" when everything is finished. Well, to put it as plainly as I can, we are not even on the blueprints; we never were. The Maintenance Department is only a necessary evil. We don't make $$$ and we are a loss from the get go. So: "We don't get nothing." <br />
<br />
...I was beginning to feel I had outright lied to them.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong; things are better: but only marginally. We used to work in a hallway and had to deal with people walking through us and our workspace like we were not even there. Now... We have been pushed into a corner. Literally. There is no place for us or our equipment and sometimes it feels like no-one cares.<br />
<br />
Alright; there it is. This is how I got there. Why I was discouraged. You get the picture and I need not whine any more than I already have.<br />
<br />
Now for that moment with the universe...<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
I was in the new entranceway earlier in the day and noticed a distressed Darning-needle fly in through the open doors.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/06/10/3489.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/06/10/s_3489.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='182' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />
<br />
(Call it a Dragonfly if you like, but my Nana always referred to to them as Darning-needles. ...after Hans Christian Anderson perhaps; for that would be my guess anyway.)<br />
<br />
So there I was; when a bug fearing female employee from another department saw it as well and said: "Kill that bug before it gets in the store!" <br />
<br />
(Obviously she doesn't know me very well!) <br />
<br />
...I shooed it outside instead and went back to work. <br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
Later, an hour or so, I was on my rounds again when my manager pointed to the very same creature, fluttering about the front-end near the cash registers; bouncing off the big plate glass windows. <br />
<br />
I followed her slowly, cupped my hands, gently scooped her up and walked outside. She peeked between my thumb and forefinger but did not seem to mind my protective confinement.<br />
<br />
Soon I was rounding the edge of the storefronts and walking along the building towards the woods.<br />
<br />
As I approached the trees I slowly opened my palms. She just sat there and didn't move! Then for some reason only the universe knows; I began stroking her wings with my index finger. She sat down in my palm and relaxed! I stroked her again and said "Hello." in a whisper of amazement....<br />
<br />
She tilted her head to the right and peered at me knowingly. If I didn't know any better I would swear she winked! Then she arose ever so slowly, until about my eye level; turned: and flew off into the wood.<br />
<br />
I watched as she went, a little stunned: but suddenly at peace with my world.<br />
<br />
Evil knows evil. Goodness recognizes itself. Can you look into the face of God? Obviously I think so... (It helps of course to at least be open to the possibility...)<br />
<br />
Oh, and when he/she looks at you, you might want to be looking back.<br />
<br />
Life IS good! <br />
<br />
Sometimes you simply have to look into the face of God; know what you're looking at: and remember!<br />
<br />
;')<br />
<br />
obeedúid~<br />
10/Jun/11<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />
obeedúid~©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-75688186205339494762010-11-20T17:06:00.002-05:002010-11-20T17:55:25.861-05:00Why Adults do the Pee Pee Dance sometimes too....<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/20/2220.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/20/s_2220.jpg" border="0" width="210" height="281" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br /><div style="text-align: center;">...terminus ad quem?</div><br />One of the few things I miss about where we used to live was the proximity to work. We were 1/8 of a mile away and were able to sleep in until the very last minute and still make it to work if we wanted to.<br /><br />Being miles away and close to half an hour ride from home has forced us to readjust to a number of things. Like making a list and planning a route to save gas, setting the second alarm, NOT hitting the snooze button, and remembering to make a pit-stop before leaving to or from work!<br /><br /><div>~</div><div><br />So it was on Thursday when I was working feverishly to whittle down the to-do list, and managing to get everything but the outdoor stuff that I should have done first, that I came to installing the new front door lock.<br /><br />My mind was fried; the Tub and the many many trips to and from the Hardware Store for various parts had taken it's toll. Well, despite my male propensity to NOT READ THE INSTRUCTIONS unless ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY DAMNIT! I completed the final assembly around 9:30-10:00.<br /><br />Then, in a moment of lucidity I took the old colored key cover that is supposed to remind you that that is the key you are looking for and placed it on the new key for my own benefit intending to make things easy for myself.<br /><br />~<br /><br />Fast forward to Friday afternoon now. I have been drinking coffee and soda all day to stay awake because as exhausted as I was when I went to bed I stayed up long into the night reading "The Steward of Christendom" by Sebastian Berry.<br /><br />As I approached the house I realized that I had forgotten to take my own advice about making a pit-stop before leaving from work. </div><div><br /></div><div>BAM! I whipped the car into the driveway, slammed the shift into park, grabbed all my garb and groceries, hopped out of the door flipping it closed with the back of my leg, blew through the porch door dropping everything on the floor and fumbled for my keys doing the Pee-Pee dance!!! </div><div><br /></div><div>What!? Where's the key? What did I do with it? How could I have left it in the house! Maybe it's at work!? Why isn't Sarah home yet?!!! Oh Crap! Why do I do these things to myself!<br /><br />Maybe I can get in through a window on the back porch! Sh*t! Open the door, run across the yard, stumble up the back steps, NOPE! The door is locked <i>like it should be</i>. Push up the window, getting it started with my car key, (BRILLIANT!) ...fall through the window cracking the the sill on the way in... Across the distance in a blink I realize I also remembered to put the hook & eye on <i>AND</i> lock the other two locks! </div><div><br /></div><div>Pee-Pee dance is now Prancing with the **STARS** as I fly out the back door, down the steps and RUN FOR THE WOODS whipping my head back and forth to see if the neighbors are watching??? </div><div><br /></div><div>Twenty feet into the now bare and leafless woods I find a suitably large enough tree to hide me from at least three posable pairs of prying eyes and form icicles on a large oak tree that Deut frequents.<br /><br /><b>... Ahhhhhhh....</b><br /><br />~<br /><br />Strolling back to the house as nonchalantly as I can so as to appear to have a <i>"meant to do that"</i> air about me I pull out my keys one last time muttering to myself: "Whatever did I do with that key? If I didn't drop my phone in the woods maybe I can call Sarah and wait for her on the porch while I listen to the dog wine from the other side of the door..."<br /><br />WHAT! Wait a minute! THAT'S NOT THE OLD KEY ON MY RING! <i>It's the new one</i> I put on with the old cover so I wouldn't sabotage myself!!!<br /><br />DAH!<br /><br />Yup... Sometimes Adults do the the Pee-Pee Dance too. <br /><br />~<br /><br />Yeah, I just wrote this in the parking lot after work... </div><div><br /></div><div>The mOOn is FULL... </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe I better make a pit-stop... Ya think???<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br /><p class="blogpress_location">Location: <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Circle%20Dr,Voorheesville,United%20States%4042.648729%2C-73.923646&z=10">5 Maple Road,Voorheesville,United States</a></p></div>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-81291148816795854932010-11-14T13:29:00.006-05:002010-11-14T14:47:08.820-05:00Bennett Hill Envisioning<div style="text-align: left;">On November 11th; a day of much importance in my mythology, (Veterans Day, My Dads Birthday and the day on which my progenitors progenitor arrived in this country 150 years ago) we hiked Bennett's Hill.</div><br />Every night on the way home as I round corners I can see it coming closer as I pursue home.<br /><br />It has been calling to me since we moved in...<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1636.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1636.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><div style="text-align: center;">Meadowbrook Farm Dairy at the base of the trail.</div><br />It was a lovely sunny fall day, bIRD and I hadn't been out hiking in some time, and I needed break from worrying the house.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1637.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1637.jpg" border="0" width="210" height="281" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><div style="text-align: center;">Trailhead leading up the Southern face.</div><br />I couldn't find my blue Hiking pack as it is in a box among boxes still and subsequently I had no camera. bIRD loaned me his so I could take a few views along the way...<br /><br />~<br /><br />When we attained the summit plateau I pulled out my iPad to see what things looked like in Hybrid & Terrain mode on Googlemaps. We were having trouble locating the wetland indicated on the map from Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1639.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1639.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><div style="text-align: center;">Terrain view. Highest point is measured 1135 ft.+/-</div><br />We took what we thought was a trail that lead there but in fact it was a deer trail. I turned back to the main trail and bIRD traipsed on into the brush with a general direction. I found it easily enough using the iPad and soon I was alone in stand of pine trees.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1640.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1640.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><div style="text-align: center;">Hybrid View.</div><br />I called out to bIRD that I had found it and began moving in his direction based on the sound of his voice. Looking up into the sun through the trees and towards him I thought I spied a small 6" American flag in a tree waving with the wind. Keeping my eyes steady I began to walk towards it. Checking my footing; I glanced down and when I looked up again it was gone.<br /><br />DAMN!<br /><br />I walked to where I thought I had seen it.<br /><br />NOTHING...<br /><br />IT WAS THERE I SWARE!<br /><br />Then, in the quiet of the forest I realized it may have been a vision. iPad in hand; I quickly brought up my writing program and began to type...<br /><br />~<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1642.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1642.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br /><br /><b>Hilltop Visionation:</b><br /><br />I saw your colors America<br />Waving from a treetop<br />On Bennett's Hill<br /><br />As I stood alone<br />In a grove of white-pines<br />Searching for wetland<br />Blinded by your sunlight<br /><br />Crashing through the trees<br /><br />We walked a false trail America<br />Circling the summit of our dreams<br />Taking pictures along the way<br /><br />Listen to your trains<br />Blowing the distance<br />Calling us home to yesterdays<br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1645.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1645.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />Shaman with treemask speaks<br />Through wood<br /><br />"Lost one<br />Follow the oak<br />Don't forget to tie your shoe"<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1648.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1648.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="246" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />Switchback<br /> down your spine<br /><br />Into shade<br /> your shalier side<br /><br />Birch<br />Littering your cliff<br />Sloping<br />Down<br />Sharply<br /><br />To moss<br />Covered lowlands of my America<br /><br />Here<br /><br />The trail less clearly marked<br /><br />We search<br /><br />Make our way to the<br /> indefinite future<br /> Drink<br /> then onwards<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1649.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1649.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />Find our own sacred springs<br /><br />Encourage flow<br /><br /> Drink<br /><br /><br />Say prayer of rest.<br /><br />obeedúid~<br />11/nov/10<br /><br />~<br /><br />bIRDS vision happen thusly:<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1650.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1650.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><div style="text-align: center;">Portrait of the bIRD facing west.</div> <div><br /></div><div>~</div><br />LOGGERHEAD RISES FROM A SWAMP<br /><br />hollow log fits neatly over my head<br />tube view of mountain brush<br />chill leaf fall clean sky<br />red-tailed hawk makes one sweep, not interested,<br />drifts towards escarpment uplift<br />visions not solutions<br />keep hitting small branches<br />legs abandoned to willywaw<br />grounded sense of terrain<br />swing turn small circle view<br />loggerhead mask separates me from any path<br />only shows ahead, steps toward familiar<br />shadow-side of the mountain<br />shadows hide secrets just don’t know them yet<br />under the floor the child was pleased the father said earth<br />inside tunnel dark come lighter<br />not estranged from outside<br />there is no future, there is no past, there is only now<br />tribal dancers, generations, all pick up shared rhythm<br />dance in uneven light, rattles reflect fire<br />from a sacred spring: roots, broad leaf, tall stem, full blossom flower…<br />water worn patterns on stone are also life forms<br />dead oak leaves over deep humus my foot sinks in<br />mushrooms climb stairs on hill-facing side of old stump<br />crow caws constant all the way across farm fields to another hill<br />make moan mock googa-booga noise to attract attention<br /><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh6YC5JogKViqUJmOTWdlqc9qa34kXUOc4MyDU1LOAjRzqDr1Y5D-MQlUXB78muEFeXhCGXfkTOPC_iuXYvIkVDXJlh35U3wtcPimcuYZ5QsC_jR5tkkywHrjHZiYEVYM5YObxNFOazC1V/s400/photo-6.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539486356398691490" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><center>Logger-headed.</center><center><br /></center> Alan Casline<br /> November 11, 2010<br />morning hike of Bennett Hill<br /><br />~<br /><br /><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;">WARNING!</span> </b>No Kinnikinnick was inhaled or consumed in the creation of this chronicle of what transpired in poetical form. Some poetic license and minor revisions have taken place since the event.<br /><br />~<br /><br />BUT SERIOUSLY NOW:<br /><br />Here is a map obtained from the Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy site at: <a href="http://www.mohawkhudson.org/preserves/Bennett.htm">http://www.mohawkhudson.org/preserves/Bennett.htm </a><br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1652.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1652.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="217" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />We took the Green trail up to the Yellow. There are more switchbacks than indicated and I would rate this part of the trail at 2.5 to 3 Geezers. The loop around the top plateau is fairly flat with enjoyable views. The best views being from the northernmost part of the loop. Then we took the Red trail where it breaks off of the yellow and drops sharply down in a Northeasterly direction. The steep grade here is rated at 5 Geezers. Slippery and smooth going up or down. We went down slowly and carefully.<br /><br />Having attained the base of the Red trail at it's most northernly point; the trail became poorly marked. We wandered around for a bit until we found a downed Birch with a marker on it. (...A poor choice of tree to mark as they fall frequently and rot quickly...) With no real marker, and rather than resort to the iPad, we simply relied on common sense and followed the base of the Mountain. As it it possible to hike the trail and avoid going on the Red trail my overall Geezer Rating is 3.5 Somewhere between Hard and Difficult. 3 if you avoid the Red trail, 4 if you take the Red trail down and 5 perhaps if you scale the Red trail up.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1653.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1653.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="140" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><div style="text-align: center;">Overall Geezer Rating 3.5</div><br />There are a number of springs on the southern face and that is what lead us to seek out the wetland on the top. When we found it we were a bit disappointed as it was choked with scrub. We identified a number of species of Pine. White and Pitch being the most prevalent.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1654.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1654.jpg" border="0" width="210" height="281" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br /><br />Views from the Northern edge gave us spectacular sights of the Valley looking directly towards my new home and beyond to my old home.<br />Hence the poetic reference. We did actually hear trains but they could very well have come from Selkirk which is also visible from the Northeast side through the treeline.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1655.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1655.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/1656.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/11/14/s_1656.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />This trail is popular, I can only assume that this comes from it's easy accessibility and the range of terrain for hikers of differing skill levels. Many people brought along their dogs. They seemed to have the most fun jumping in the water and bounding threw the underbrush. From my experience this is a jewel right under your nose. Check it out with the family or perhaps a second date for a good day hike!<br /><br />~<br /><br />Having written this as a poetic experiment; I am also attempting another. As the content seems to contain elements of more than one of my blogs I have decided to test out a new feature with the Updated version of this App and post it simultaneously to "Glebe Homie" and <a href="http://helder-hiking.blogspot.com/2010/11/bennett-hill-envisioning.html">"Helder~Hiking Adventures!"</a><br /><br />I can't say that I will ever have need of this feature in the future but it's nice to know I can do it if I want.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;">:</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><b>&</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF0000;"><b>)</b></span></span></span><br /><br />~<br /><br />11/11/10- 11/14/10<br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-38862062125245856782010-10-20T11:32:00.001-04:002010-10-20T11:32:03.177-04:00At what point do I Freakout?This new house has been serendipitous to the weird from the start.<br />(see previous Blogposts/FB notes)<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/10/20/1059.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/10/20/s_1059.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />From the feeling I first had when I walked in the door to recently finding out that there was a Honey Factory on or about where my house now stands. (...Devin's hobby and pastime...) <br /><br />To today at work when I found out from a previous employee, who used to work in the Deli and lives in Clarksville, that NOT ONLY is my neighbors wife named Sarah (the same as my daughter!) but their oldest son is named Devin!!! (the same as my son!)<br /><br />Cue the creepy music AGAIN!<br /><br />Am I the only person this kind of stuff happens to? Or do I pay attention to things others in their ordinary everyday quest for normalcy miss???<br /> <br />~<br /><br />If, when I finally find out the original owners name, it turns out to be O'Brien... (as there was a Smith O'Brien who once lived in Clarksville) ...well, that's when I'm gonna really flip!<br /><br />Until then I'll just have to continue living in the "Twilight Zone".<br /><br />Do-do-do-do do-do-do-do... Dah dah dah da DUNT! <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br /><p class='blogpress_location'>Location:<a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Coventry%20Ct,Voorheesville,United%20States%4042.648257%2C-73.924304&z=10'>Coventry Ct,Voorheesville,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-66472434450802003972010-09-19T13:18:00.002-04:002010-09-19T15:36:01.836-04:00Looking before you leap!One of the things I have started to do is clear away all the brush that has built up along the foundation so I can repoint the stonework before winter sets in.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/19/1532.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/19/s_1532.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />There is a nice garden in the front of the house that is mostly filled with perennials I will keep. The rest of the house was overgrown with every kind of weed that grows in Northern New York State and they have had the entire year to grow and cultivate.<br />~<br />Devin went out last week and bought a Gas Powered Weed-Waker to help do the job. Of course he bought one like he bought his T.V.... Devin Sized! This thing looks quit normal in his hands, but it is longer than I am tall... In other words, in his hands it almost looks like a toy; in my hands: I look like the toy!!! ;)<br />~<br />So there I was, whacking and hacking, hacking and whacking; desperately trying to cut my way through six feet of brush and rocks along the side of the house... (by now my arms have gone from fatigued to numb) I was moving like a robot hoping to finish up before it got dark or rained simply because I was doing yard work.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/19/1533.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/19/s_1533.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />Then, as I'm buzzing hard into some stubborn tree/weed; I see EYE's pEEking back at me!<br /><br />BARRRRAP! OH NO!!! It's a baby Rabbit!<br /><br />I LEAPED back and stumbled over the brush dropping the Waker on the ground...<br /><br />Crap! I killed it!<br /><br />What? ...it's still there staring at me just the way it was before and it hasn't moved?<br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/19/1534.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/19/s_1534.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />Oh Man! It's Plastic! The eye's are glass! <br />~<br />I stopped for the night. No need to worry about the rain as it was getting dark by then anyway.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/19/1535.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/19/s_1535.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px" /></a></center><br />When you stop in to see us say "Hello!" to my new friend waiting for you at the front door.<br /><br />I think I'm gonna name him "Gleebie". He is Homie after all!<br /><br />:) <br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-42790464658648767992010-09-16T00:11:00.001-04:002010-09-16T00:11:30.373-04:00You can't make this up... AGAIN!Well... We decided to turn the Pantry into The Laundry Room. (Having worked every day and night running the V'ville Laundromat for the past umpteen years I never wanna have to go back once we leave!)<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/2508.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/s_2508.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />To that end; I ripped off the mishmash clapboard/plywood/anything that you can find to fill a hole wall and removed the tarpaper in preparation for rolled insulation last week. Then I took up the piecemeal faux indian rug linoleum and then the black & white pattern you see here down to the oil paper base. <br /><br />Lifting up the oilpaper I found that the original wood floor was lined with newspapers; dating the extension onto the original house to sometime in the fall of 1942.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/2509.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/s_2509.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />Then up comes a perfectly preserved copy of the Sunday News Comics Pages from the week of September 27th, 1942!!!<br /><br />~<br />...It is here that I must aside... <br /><br />I have been a fan of Dick Tracy ever since I can remember. I used to read it every Sunday with my Dad. I will always remember "The Pouch"; one of Chester Gould's weirdest Villains was all wrinkly and covered with lose skin. He was a Jewel Thief by trade and would hide his ill-gotten goods in the folds of skin under his chin; to which he had somehow attached a snap style button that could hold the skin closed so no one would be the wiser that he had stolen goods hidden in the "pouch" in his neck. On my 13th Birthday Dick caught The Pouch and I was hooked for life!<br />~<br /><br />So you can imagine how thrilled I was to see Tracy on the cover of the Sunday News just like it was during my 60's wannabe Childhood!<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/2510.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/s_2510.jpg' border='0' width='206' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />...and this is where things get WEIRD... <br /><br />There I was reading away when "The Story within The Story" SMACKED ME in the face! (...This is an old school writing technique that even Poe used...)<br /><br />Keeping in mind how this all started; take a close look at what happens in one of the center panels:<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/2511.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/s_2511.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='227' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />...cue the eeeerie music...<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/2512.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/s_2512.jpg' border='0' width='196' height='273' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />My sentiments EXCTLY Junior!<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/2513.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/09/15/s_2513.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='241' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />YOU JUST CAN'T MAKE THIS STUFF UP!<br /><br /> <br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br />©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-51860511097543546132010-08-22T14:23:00.000-04:002010-08-22T14:33:36.078-04:00The Gulf of Maine Bookstore & Chimney Farm.Visited poet Gary Lawless at Chimney Farm today. Enjoyable conversation with bIRD, Gary and his wife Beth! ...headed home with some fresh garlic, some interesting books and a messa pictures!<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/08/22/1549.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/08/22/s_1549.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />bIRD chasing Butterflies @ Chimney Farm. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/08/22/1550.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/08/22/s_1550.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='224' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /> <br />Gary and Beth's Bookstore in Brunswick Maine. Nice place, they even sell books of poetry by obscure poets from upstate N.Y...<br /><br />...hmmmm, I wonder who they might be.... <br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br /><p class='blogpress_location'>Location:<a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Maine%20Turnpike,Saco,United%20States%4043.544066%2C-70.435627&z=10'>Maine Turnpike,Saco,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-33291308299501709782010-08-20T17:00:00.000-04:002010-08-20T17:04:20.218-04:00Crabcakes and Chowder for Dinner!MMMMMM, you know you're jealous! <br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/08/20/1936.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/08/20/s_1936.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br />©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-72235690349423876202010-08-20T08:09:00.001-04:002010-08-20T08:09:07.065-04:00A Poem for the ride.... Off to Maine this a.m. W/ the bIRD for the Sardine Fest...into a small dark place:<br /><br />I'm thinking of sardines again<br />How the world changes<br />How things get lost from our lexicon<br /><br />Like Herring in a Barrel<br />Becomes<br />Like Sardines in a Can<br /><br />They stopped using Barrels<br />Now <br />They no longer Can Sardines<br /><br />In my hometown <br />At the local Methodist Church<br />Every Sunday night<br /><br />We've been playing a version<br />Of Hide & Seek called "Sardines" <br />For as long as they've packed Fish in a Can<br /><br />This year we had to explain what a Sardine is<br />Why when you pile into a small dark place<br />In some dusty hideaway where no one goes<br /><br />It is like Fish packed tightly in a Can <br /><br />When the thought occurred to me<br />What would we call this game<br />Without a reference point?<br /><br />Can we find something new<br />That recovers our loss?<br /><br />I'm thinking of sardines again<br />How the world changes<br />How things get lost from our lexicon.<br /><br /><br />obeeduid~<br />12/aug/10<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br /><p class='blogpress_location'>Location:<a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=County%20Road%20201,Voorheesville,United%20States%4042.654410%2C-73.929122&z=10'>County Road 201,Voorheesville,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-89880738779094296972010-08-02T15:45:00.001-04:002010-08-02T15:45:18.088-04:00Simultaneous epiphanies....If you haven't heard yet, we found a House. With luck we will be taking the "Last Train To Clarksville" and moving in mid September! :)<br /><br />~<br /><br />So, I'm waking up the other day, into that sleeping lucid dream state... I was placing stones in the future back yard, building a fence for the dog etc...<br /><br />And I am going through the hatch in the floor of the back porch down to where the Bilco door enters the cellar, and now I'm under the porch looking at the foundation to my right underneath the pantry....<br /><br />And I am thinking that if there is a trapdoor here, maybe there is a trapdoor there under the Pantry?!!! ...perhaps to a Root Cellar ?<br /><br />The alarm goes off and I get up and get dressed and head for the door to leave... And I meet Devin coming in from his job so I say "Hey! I just had this dream about the house, and I was under the porch and I am going through the hatch in the floor of the back porch down to where the Bilco door enters the cellar, blah, blah, blah, and now I'm under the porch looking at the foundation to my right underneath the pantry blah, blah, blah.... I'm thinking that if there is a trapdoor here, maybe there is a trapdoor there under the Pantry?!!! ...perhaps to a Root Cellar ?"<br /><br />And Devin replies: "Yeeeah! That's where we can make the Beeer!"<br /><br />To which I reply: "Yeeeah! That's where we can make the Beeer!"<br /><br />My Son is a Genius! <br /><br />obeedúid~<br />02/aug/10<br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br /><p class='blogpress_location'>Location:<a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=S%20Main%20St,Voorheesville,United%20States%4042.654464%2C-73.929021&z=10'>S Main St,Voorheesville,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-19944890237517431932010-05-28T07:55:00.001-04:002010-05-28T07:55:49.485-04:00UUGH! The title field took that U in and now won't let me type anything else in there!<br /><br />Yeah, until the bugs get worked out or I find something that works better I will not be risking any other postings from the road.<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/28/483.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/28/s_483.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The Facebook App's server went down too so unless we stop and I load things through Devo' Laptop it's a no go there too.<br /><br />This is what I get for being ahead of the curve. NextGen next year may-haps things will be worked out better. Too bad. This thing is so promising! Driving and navigating (although those programs crash as well; and sometimes at the worst of times...) on the fly was overall invaluable!<br /><br />Well, better post and log out before this thing crashes and I loose this too...<br /><br />Taking a photo record as I go so I will blog our travels as James traveled from home. TTFN! <br /><br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br /><p class='blogpress_location'>Location:<a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=New%20Market%20Ct,Manassas,United%20States%4038.799429%2C-77.520507&z=10'>New Market Ct,Manassas,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-68783281396576440162010-05-27T08:23:00.000-04:002010-05-27T08:31:23.571-04:00Out of synced....The iPad has not been synced since we left last week and I think this my be causing problems here. I tried several times to post photos yesterday, here and on Facebook but it only resulted in fail messages.... Hope today goes better! <br />~<br />ARGH! Now BlogPress is failing to create new documents so I have had to do an end around by opening an old draft and modifying that!!! Oh well, here I goes again!!!!<br />~<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/464.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/s_464.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='201' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Put your nose to the grindstone Mark, work harder!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/465.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/s_465.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Crossing the Shannondoah River watershed the hard way ....<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/466.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/s_466.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />What, you didn't think I could do it??? <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/467.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/s_467.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />This is only a tree, no really, well actually it looks like a root taking a drink!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/468.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/s_468.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Hurry up! Take the picture before the guard sees you!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/469.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/27/s_469.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Maybe if you push hard enough you'll actually brt somewhere...<br />NOT!<br /><br />27/may10 <br /><br /><p class='blogpress_location'>Location:<a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=E%20Market%20St,Leesburg,United%20States%4039.105408%2C-77.547604&z=10'>E Market St,Leesburg,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-42191030182189799992010-05-26T09:01:00.001-04:002015-05-26T07:43:57.802-04:00C&O part two...We decided to forgo crossing today and followed James' route along the Potomac.<br>~<br>The next stop was Manocacy Aqueduct. James and Francis were stationed here before being sent to Edwards Ferry for theBattle of Balls Bluff. He was very impressed with the structure and I can see why. It was something of the 8th wonder in his day for construction and achievement.<br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/420.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_420.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>We broke for lunch as soon as we arrived and this guy decided we might be on the menu! Devin was sitting where his head is and he only noticed him when he was about where his tail is!!!<br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/421.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_421.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>In my estimation when he was fully stretched out he was somewhere between 5 and a half ft. and 6 ft. In length!!!<br>~<br>When lunch was over and we managed to remove ourselves from the menu we took in the site.<br><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/422.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_422.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>View from a distance as we approached.<br><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/423.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_423.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>From the Momocacy Riverbank looking Northwest.<br><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/424.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_424.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>Devin on the beginning of the Catwalk.<br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/425.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_425.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>The Catwalk where Devin was standing.<br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/431.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_431.jpg" border="0" width="210" height="281" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>Devin on the Catwalk above the River looking at something...<br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/434.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_434.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>What Devin was looking at... Duh!<br><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/435.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_435.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>The Waterway, looking back the in the direction we came across.<br><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/436.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_436.jpg" border="0" width="210" height="281" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>If it were 1861 I would be up to my neck and treading water!<br>~<br>If you have been paying attention to the locations in the postings you will have noticed that we are now in Harpers Ferry. today we walk the streets of the town and vista the Arsenal. If we have time we should end up in Leesburg tomorrow night.<br>~<br>I'll try not to take so many pictures... NOT!<br><br>obeedúid~<br>26/may/10<br><br><br>- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br>obeedúid~<br><p class="blogpress_location">Location:<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=KOA%20Campgrounds%20Rd,Harpers%20Ferry,United%20States%4039.315504%2C-77.765064&z=10">KOA Campgrounds Rd,Harpers Ferry,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-67962442444404568272010-05-26T07:15:00.001-04:002015-05-26T07:42:59.540-04:00The C&O Canal Route.We started the day in Poolsville where James wrote the majority of his letters during the fall and winter of1861 into the early months of spring.<br><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/254.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_254.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/255.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_255.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>This is the Poolsville Town Hall. Just across the street was a Gift Shop where I purchased a number of local history items. The owner Reva O. Hoewing reminded me of my "Little 'Ol Lady Fanclub" at Church; guess what, she is an elder in the Poolsville Methodist Church and they are looking for a Youth Pastor... It's not me really it isn't, they see me coming and just know! :)<br>~<br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/256.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_256.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>Alright, this is just weird! AND Twilight Zone in a cool sorta way... Sometime along the way while I was transcribing the letters and decided to write a novel based on them, I was drawn to name the novel "A Westerly Gale." James was speaking to me again and I was obviously receiving!!!!<br>~ <br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/258.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_258.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>Our next stop was Edwards Ferry just south along the Potomac. James and Francis did Picket duty here during the month of December and James and Francis were a part of the "Union Unit" mentioned here on the sign. For the record: that "Unit" was "Units" and the 2nd New York State Militia was one of them. From what I know from James' letters they were the faint to distract the enemy, so the sign is wrong.<br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/259.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_259.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>A Harpers Weekly Illustration of General Stones Division (including the 2nd NYSM) in October of 1861. According to James' letter the Division was engaged and took some minor casualties.<br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/260.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_260.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>The view from shore looking South west towards Leesburg.<br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/262.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_262.jpg" border="0" width="210" height="281" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br> <br>View from Edwards Ferry looking South across the Potomac River.<br><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/263.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_263.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>Devin in front of the Tender's House at Edwards Ferry with his feet in what would have been water in 1861.<br><br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/264.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_264.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br>The Towpath along the Canal. James and Francis walked this 35 miles along this route on the way home from a Christmas Leave to N.Y. In winter weather because they were tired of waiting for a Canal Bout to take them. they apparently made it back in 2 days and before the boat with their rucksacks arrived.<br> <br>~<br><br><br><center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/265.jpg"><img src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/26/s_265.jpg" border="0" width="281" height="210" style="margin:5px"></a></center><br> <br>Next up, Whites Ferry; where James' cousin Jacob Glenn crossed during the Battle of Balls Bluff. More on this later when we cross over ourselves to the Battlefield....<br><br>obeedúid~<br>25/may/10<br> <br><br>- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br>obeedúid~<br><p class="blogpress_location">Location:<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=KOA%20Campgrounds%20Rd,Harpers%20Ferry,United%20States%4039.315504%2C-77.765064&z=10">KOA Campgrounds Rd,Harpers Ferry,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-18014984760521071012010-05-24T09:20:00.001-04:002010-05-24T09:20:57.715-04:00Starting at the beginning: Castle Garden here we come!As previously posted here; my Gilmour ancestors entered this country at Castle Garden. Some by way of Liverpool England and the rest via Moville, in Donegol, Ireland.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/629.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_629.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /> <br />This is the Dock at Moville, the steps on the left hand side of the painting are where the majority of my Ancestors would have taken their last steps from Ireland onto a ship that would carry them to to America.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/630.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_630.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='187' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />This is Castle Garden in it's heyday (later renamed Castle Clinton) where they took their first steps into America.<br />This was us yesterday at starting point the first leg of our journey:<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/631.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_631.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Devin and Dad at the Gates! (Castle Garden/Clinton) Not only is this where our ancestors entered America, it is also where James and Francis were camped before going of to "'Ol Virginie".<br />~<br />We were intending to leave early yesterday; Around 3 a.m. but we weren't done packing until some time about 1:30a.m. so we slept in until 7:30. After a last stop at the V'ville Hannaford for some last minute snacks and Coffee we kissed Sarah goodbye gave her a couple of "quarters for laundry" and pulled out onto the road about 8:30.<br />~<br />On the road we found an app called "Trapster". In honor of our "departure for the South" we plugged in the "Hillbilly" voice. "dats won dem speed traps up dare yahear!"<br />~<br />Of the 50 some letters and documents I have inherited there was only one envelope. The address appeared to have been written to William Pollock 765 Florida street. On closer inspection it looked as if someone had corrected it to read 764. In the process of researching that portion of my GG-Grandmother's family I found that the number was really 769.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/632.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_632.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />If you look closely you can see someone wrote in graphite "Old Script 4+4 pence. In it I found Revolutionary War Script issued in Philadelphia.<br /><br />I had a pretty rough time finding first the location of the letter address and then the Church as well. It seems that Philadelphia changed it's street names twice during the later part of century 19th century. My former manager and fellow Civil War Buff Bill Hamm was very helpful in locating a site that let me find the renamed location @ this site: http://www.phillyhistory.org/HistoricStreets/default.aspx <br /><br />By using this site I was able to determine that what was 769 Florida Street in 1861 is now 769 South 4th Street. And this is what it looks like today:<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/633.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_633.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />It's for sale and I'm in the market but I think it would be one heck of a commute. ...and somehow I don't think I would be able to walk home from Smitty's after a few Guinness' either! <br />~<br />The first document in chronological order is my GG Grand Parents Marraige Certificate. <br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/634.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_634.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='232' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The ceremony was preformed at the Westminster Presbyterian Church in Phila-delphia by Reverend Robert Watts. Watts was quite an interesting historical character and I will be working him into the novel.<br />~<br />Then Bill reconnected me with an old GoogleBook that I had downloaded but forgotten about and had not yet read: "The Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia." It was in PDF format so I searched it and this is what I found:<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/635.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_635.jpg' border='0' width='206' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /> <br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/636.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_636.jpg' border='0' width='203' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />When I first Googled this location I noticed that there was an empty lot with a small side street running along side it named "Watts" Street named after ...you guessed it: the very same Rev. Robert Watts.<br /><br />As I drove down it in "Street-View" Something strange happened! Things got all FUZZY-WEIRD but I kept on going where the arrow lead me... ("Go towards the light! Go towards the light!") all of a sudden: "POP!" I was back out of the Street again. So I scrolled around and "BLIP!" A building appeared where there wasn't one before!!!!<br />"Whoe whata virtual trip man!"<br /><br />This is what things look like today:<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/637.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_637.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />This is what is left of Watts Street.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/638.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_638.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /> This is where the building was built over me...<br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/639.jpg'><img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/24/s_639.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br />The former location of The Westminster Presbyterian Church.<br />~<br />Off to Baltimore to walk the Riot Trail!<br />24/may/10 <br />~<br />- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />obeedúid~<br /><p class='blogpress_location'>Location:<a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=S%20Main%20St,Voorheesville,United%20States%4042.655014%2C-73.930420&z=10'>S Main St,Voorheesville,United States</a></p>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-57143155085605751512010-05-21T23:46:00.001-04:002010-05-21T23:46:44.310-04:00Blog Press messes with my formatting, so I wanted to see what it would do to a traditionally formatted poem... HERE GOES NOTHIN' !!!Matthew 5:13 (New International Version)<br /><br /> 13 "You are the salt of the earth,<br />but if the salt loses its saltiness,<br />how can it be made salty again?"<br /><br />~<br /><br />Song of my Seasoning:<br /><br />Oh salt of earth<br />That gave me birth<br />And taught my mind to see;<br /><br />You have returned<br />Unto the sod<br />And left me out at sea!<br /><br />Although I yearn<br />To meet my God<br />I ache to hear your voice!<br /><br />And when at last<br />It comes to pass<br />I hope I have the choice;<br /><br />To sit with you<br />And reminisce<br />To speak of days gone bye!<br /><br />Before we came <br />To this abyss<br />When You were young and spry!<br /><br />You held my hands<br />We walked along<br />I rode your shoulders high!<br /><br />Oh salt of earth <br />I sing your song<br />Beneath the azure sky!<br /> <br />Oh salt of earth <br />I sing your song<br />And softly wave goodbye.... <br /><br />obeedúid~<br />15/may/10<br /><br />~<br /><br />- Posted using BlogPress <br />from my iPad.<br /><br /><br />©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-30267070382275290582010-05-21T00:27:00.004-04:002010-05-21T00:51:22.693-04:00Making heads for tails....<div style="text-align: justify;">I have been trying to sort out the differing and contradicting information having to do with how James Gilmour and his Comrade Francis Perry came to enlist and make their way to Washington. Depending on the report, newspaper article or the dates on James' letters there appears to be a number of anomalies that I will now try to sort out in an order that makes chronological sense to me. </div>~<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">First: On Sunday, April 12, 1861 after decades of growing strife between North and South The Confederate Army opened fire on the Federal Army at Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor South Carolina. Fort Sumter surrendered 34 hours later on April 13th.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2301.jpg"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2301.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="197" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Sargent Hart reattaches the Flag.</div>~<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">According to the Official Unit Roster of the 2nd NYSM/82nd Infantry available on the New York Military Museums website James Gilmour and Francis Perry enlisted on April 17th,at New York City to serve 3 years.</div>~<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">On Saturday April 20th, 1861 a "Mass Meeting" was held in Union Square, New York in protest of the taking of Fort Sumpter sponsored by the New York City Camber of Commerce in support of the Union. The news of the attack on the Sixth Massachusetts in Baltimore, reached the city causing alarm over the city's Seventh Regiment on its way to Baltimore.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2302.jpg"><img border="0" height="186" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2302.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">First Blood -- The Sixth Massachusetts Regiment </div><div style="text-align: center;">fighting their way through Baltimore, April 19, 1861.</div>~<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">As the time for the meeting drew nearer, merchants closed their shops and encouraged attendance at the meeting. Union Square was packed with 100,000-200,000 citizens wearing symbols of the national flag. Even the actual flag that was flown at Fort Sumter was there tacked to a tree by Metropolitan Police Officer Sargent Hart (much the same as he did at Fort Sumter after the original mast had been shot away by the Confederates.) He had been sent to Fort Sumter to collect and escort Mrs. Anderson; the wife of the commanding officer Major Robert Anderson.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Buildings and houses flew the national flag and red, white, blue bunting hung from every window. They were five speaker stands and the crowd cheered the appearance of Major Robert Anderson, Captains Abner Doubleday, J.G. Foster, Lieutenant Hall and Surgeon Samuel W. Crawford and the garrison of Fort Sumter, who had arrived on the steamer Baltic on Thursday, April 18th, from Charleston, South Carolina. The square was flooded with people and the overflow spilled out into other parts of the city. (1)</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2303.jpg"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2303.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The "Union" Mass Meeting held in Union Square, </div><div style="text-align: center;">New York on the 20th of April. (1861) </div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I am going to assume with some sense of certainty that James and Francis were present at this meeting as well as James' brother Robert Gilmour and his Wife Mary (Pollock) Gilmour. They lived and worked only blocks away and I think it is reasonable to surmise as much.</div>~<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Many men at the time belonged to Fire Companies and Militias for Social reasons much like they do today. Thier first Captain Capt. Thomas M. Reid was commissioned on May 21st 1858 with rank from April 21st 1858.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">By Thursday April 25th, 1861; James and Francis were ready and waiting to go with the Militia to defend Washington from the Secesh.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2304.jpg"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2304.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="210" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">This is the inscription in the front-piece<br />
of the Bible James Gilmour </div><div style="text-align: center;">carried with him until his death in the Peninsula Campaign. </div><div style="text-align: center;">"His Sister Mary" was his sister in-law Mary Pollock Gilmour.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2305.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2305.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">James Gilmour's Bible from the family archives of the author.</div>~<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">The 2nd Regiment Militia failing to be ordered to the front under the first call, organized in New York City as a regiment of volunteers in the rear of Thompson's Market which appears to have served as their Armory.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2306.jpg"><img border="0" height="201" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2306.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I believe that James James Gilmour and Francis/Frank Perry worked in some capacity at Tompkins Market. (Tompkins Market is the building on the right hand side of the picture flying the Stars and Strips.) I surmise from a letter sent to them by their coworkers as a congratulatory "Testimownial" after the Battle of Bull Run signed by the men that they had previously worked with. ...but I will get to that in a later posting sometime next week. </div>~<br />
From a Newspaper Article (source unsighted) posted on the New York State Military Museums Website:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>PARADE OF THE SECOND REGIMENT.</b></div><b><br />
</b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">The Second regiment, New York State Militia, Colonel Tompkins, paraded yesterday, previous to their encampment on the Battery today. The special order announcing the parade provided that the officers and members of the regiment should assemble in their respective company drill rooms yesterday morning, at nine o'clock, for regimental drill, the field and staff officers mounted, to report to the Colonel in the Armory at the same time; and the commandants, with their companies, together with the non-commissioned staff and drum corps, to report to the Adjutant, at Tompkins square, at a later hour—all to be there at ten o'clock A. M. The officers reported to the Colonel in accordance with the requirements of the special order; but, in consequence of the unfavorable condition of the weather, the regimental parade was postponed until the afternoon. At one o'clock P. M. the regiment, by companies, proceeded in front of the armory, in Seventh street, to Tompkins square, where the line was formed. The men appeared in fatigue dress, without knapsacks or overcoats. A large crowd collected around the square, and witnessed, apparently with unusual interest, every movement of the regiment. Several showers fell during the course of the afternoon, on account of which various field maneuvres were dispensed with--so that the entire tactics embraced in a full regimental drill were not completed. After executing a number of evolutions, the regimental line was formed inside the square, and the battalion took up the line of march. Preceded by a pioneer corps, five in number, came the twenty drummers, in their scarlet coats, followed by the engineer corps, numbering twenty-five members, under command of Captain Sage and Lieutenant Vanderpoel, bearing a beautiful banner, which had been presented to them on the previous evening. Next marched the howitzer corps, also numbering twenty-five, with some of their guns, followed by the staff and field officers and men, in all to the number of a thousand. In this order the regiment marched through St. Mark's place to and up Broadway to Fourteenth street, to Fifth avenue, down to Eighth street, and thence back to the armory. All along the line of march the regiment, completely uniformed and equipped, and manifesting unmistakeable evidences of the incessant labors of the officers in its discipline, elicited universal admiration. After returning to the armory, where the regiment is quartered, and where certain orders were issued for the morrow, the line was dismissed. The following is the special order concerning the encampment on the Battery to-day:—</div><br />
SPECIAL ORDER NO. 22.<br />
HEADUQARTERS FIRST DIVISION, N. Y. S. M.,<br />
NEW YORK, May 1, 1861.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Pursuant to directions from the Commander-in-Chief, the Second regiment New York State Militia, under the command of Colonel Tompkins, is hereby directed to go into camp upon the Battery, relieving the Fifty-fifth regiment, and will remain in camp until further orders from headquarters. The Second regiment will relieve the Fifty-fifth at three o'clock P. M. tomorrow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>By order of Major General Charles W. Sandford.<br />
GEORGE W. MORELL, Division Inspector.<br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2307.jpg"><img border="0" height="176" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2307.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">At Camp on the Battery. </div>~<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">On Saturday, May 18th, 1861; the Second New York State Militia paraded out of Battery Park, and boarded the Jersey City Ferry. From there they proceeded by train to Camden New Jersey via the Camden/Amboy Railway. Having arrived at the Camdon/Amboy Station the Regiment disembarked and marched a short distance to the Delaware River Ferry. The Ferry then took them across the Delaware to the City of Philadelphia, where they were docked at the foot of Washington Avenue, and Marched across the city to a waiting train on the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore Railroad. To the best of my knowledge the Philadelphia Union Volunteer Saloon was not as yet open to receive and relieve regiments in transit at this time. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Once on the Philadelphia, Wilmington and Baltimore Railroad they proceed to Baltimore and proceeded through that city without incident. There they boarded B&O Train bound for Washington.</div>~<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">The Following is an excerpt from a letter from James Gilmour to his brother Robert Gilmour and his wife Mary:</div><br />
Wasington May 23rd 1861 [Thursday] <br />
Dear Brother and Sister I now<br />
write to let you know<br />
how I have faired since I left~<br />
we arived in Phila~ at 8 o clock on monday night [May 20th]<br />
and marched to the B and O R.R. Depot<br />
where we left for Baltimore. we arived there<br />
all safe at 8 o clock tuesday morning [May 21st] and<br />
formed at the R.R. Depot. and marched<br />
through the City where we were recieved<br />
with hearty chearing from the foundry<br />
Boys and a few of the citycens but the greater<br />
part of them looked dagers at us but there<br />
was no hissing at all we were there about<br />
3 hours marching through the streets and<br />
then left for wastning* where we arived<br />
at 12 oclock p.m. we wer quartered in<br />
Pa's. Ave. corner of 4th St. We are all well<br />
and in good spirits.<br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2308.jpg"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2308.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="126" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">As you can see according to James' Official Muster Record, </div><div style="text-align: center;">he Enlisted in on May 21st upon his arrival in Washington, </div><div style="text-align: center;">sometime after 12 p.m.; as a Private in Company B. </div><br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2309.jpg"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2309.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="190" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">A carte de visite of Mary (Pollock) Gilmour </div><div style="text-align: center;">from the family archives of the author.</div><br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2310.jpg"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2310.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="185" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">A carte de visite of Robert Gilmour, Brother of James Gilmour; </div><div style="text-align: center;">from the family archives of the author.</div>~<br />
I possess no image of James Gilmour in my archives; I do however for my own sake go by this image I found of an anonymous Federal Recruit: <br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/2311.jpg"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/20/s_2311.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="131" /></a></center><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">He is similar in features and stature to Robert Gilmour and many of the men in my family. In desperation I glommed it from an old book some years back. I believe it was a Time/Life book but I' not sure... at one time I thought that I might someday come across an image of him in a box somewhere, but alas that has yet to come to pass. Unless some miracle happens this will have to do. Maybe it's him, maybe it's not. Either way, I like to think it is. It solves a little bit of the mystery. </div><br />
Mark~<br />
<br />
Friday, May 21st, 149 years to the day <br />
James Gilmour was mustered in at<br />
Washington D.C. as a Private.<br />
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<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">*Except where otherwise noted images were downloaded from the New York Public Library Online Digital Collection.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(1) some source material is based on: "Union Defense Committee New York City's Repsonse to the Civil War" by William O'Neill at Suite101.com</span><br />
<br />
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />
obeedúid~<br />
<br />
<div class="blogpress_location">Location:<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=County%20Road%20201,Voorheesville,United%20States%4042.654422%2C-73.929121&z=10">County Road 201,Voorheesville,United States</a></div>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-23320881378909293492010-05-16T16:35:00.002-04:002010-05-16T17:05:49.779-04:00The Pebbles Prep. for our trip to Virginia; May 23rd through June 2nd 2010.On Tuesday March 23rd Devin and I had the privilege of viewing the only existing flag from James Gilmour's Regiment: The Second New York State Militia (later redesigned the 82nd). Because the original 90 day Regiment did not have any notable members with pull, after the original enlistment ended and they were transformed into a 3-year Volunteer Force; they were redesiqnated with the next available number: 82.<br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/16/1414.jpg"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/16/s_1414.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
This image was obtained from the New York State Museums Website. It is 27 1/4” Hoist X 27 3/4”. The funds for conservation of these flags have been cut due to N.Y. State's financial crisis. It was fortunate that this flag (A Flank Marker; intended to allow the regiment to visually see where the right or left of the unit was located.) was small and easy to conserve.<br />
<br />
<i><b>There are still a vast number of flags that may never be saved!</b></i><br />
<br />
Private and corporate donations can be made to:<br />
“The Natural Heritage Trust —<br />
DMNA Donation Fund”<br />
and sent to: Director, Natural Heritage Trust<br />
New York State Office of Parks, Recreation and<br />
Historic Preservation<br />
Agency Building 1, Empire State Plaza<br />
Albany, NY 12238. <br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
I had gone to the New York State Military Museum in Saratoga with my friend Steve on Saint Patricks Day to see the flag; but found that it was being housed at the Peebles Island Facility. While we were there I made arraignments with Chris Morton an Assistant Curator to view the flag.<br />
<br />
Later, at Peebles Island, I found out from conversation with Chris that it was very likely captured by Beauregard's Confederate forces, possibly at Bull Run, Virginia, July 21, 1861. This is not "the Standard" that James Gilmour and his comrade Francis Perry rescued; but I would imagine that it was captured during the same incident he describes in his letters to his brother Robert, on his return to Washington, after the disastrous Battle of Bull Run. <br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/16/1415.jpg"><img border="0" height="281" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/16/s_1415.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="210" /></a></center><br />
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We arrived (met in the parking lot after work and connecting in Cohoes) at 3:00 p.m.<br />
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<center><a href="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/16/1417.jpg"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/05/16/s_1417.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="281" /></a></center><br />
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I had heard of this location somewhere in my research but I had never been there. It was quite the experience seeing the flag in person and I was speechless (yeah, me speechless... can you imagine?) for the first few minutes (and on the brink of tears as well) but eventually I opened up...<br />
<br />
Long story short: Chris is sent me everything he has on the unit for my research!!!! (THANKS CHRIS IT WILL BE INVALUABLE!!!)<br />
<br />
I think he must have thought that if he sent me everything he had, eventually I would shut-up...<br />
<br />
He doesn't know me very well now does he?!!!<br />
<br />
~<br />
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They let us pose for a picture but I had to promise not to publish it. Something about being in a Government Facility blah, blah, blah....<br />
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It is for personal use only they said. I printed it out and it will take a prominent place on my wall soon!<br />
<br />
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.<br />
<br />
obeedúid~ <br />
16/may/10<br />
<div class="blogpress_location">Location:<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=S%20Main%20St,Voorheesville,United%20States%4042.654826%2C-73.929764&z=10">S Main St,Voorheesville,United States</a></div>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-30638312398422877272010-04-09T16:57:00.001-04:002010-04-09T16:59:48.372-04:00Ireland: Digitally Entranced.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxey1T2ebij3pJStgwbB4yob7g0t39xxWSzsPgMBFItATwBOsfzKg9UyG4iVUFHK0VSo4YPxiNwzHISviob_45FvopA7_lNOjQbObaS6qH6m33D6ayyidp_4vvAMZXiZUolOYaM0gpr4r/s1600/Digitally.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxey1T2ebij3pJStgwbB4yob7g0t39xxWSzsPgMBFItATwBOsfzKg9UyG4iVUFHK0VSo4YPxiNwzHISviob_45FvopA7_lNOjQbObaS6qH6m33D6ayyidp_4vvAMZXiZUolOYaM0gpr4r/s400/Digitally.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">During the entire month of April there will be a showing of Digital Paintings from Mark O’Brien’s travels through Ireland at the Voorheesville Public Library. The Paintings are framed and reasonably priced for sale. All proceeds of painting sales will go to support the F.U.M.C.V. Youth Group. On Thursday April 15th there will be an opening reception at the library from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. Mark will also donate matching funds to the F.U.M.C.V. Audio Visual Campaign. Everyone is invited to attend and support these causes that are near and dear to his heart.</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">obeedúid~</span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">09/april/10</span></i></span><br />
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</i></span></span></span>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-66586144085110296202010-01-20T16:21:00.009-05:002010-01-20T17:09:04.859-05:00Some people are not my friends....<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well, on Facebook anyways... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Perhaps because they haven't </span><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">acquiesced<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; border-collapse: separate; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; white-space: normal;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">to <i>"The-group-think-social-networking-in-the-21st-century-phenomenon "</i>...</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; border-collapse: separate; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I happen to think its just fun and I am perfectly fine with anyone who choses to limit their exposure to things of mass appeal. That having been said, I am posting this video here as well as on my Youtube Channel for those of my <i>"Friends"</i> who would like to see me do something silly and still be a</span><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> "Rebel-without-a-facebook-account..." </span></i></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; border-collapse: separate; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>(</i></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>You know who you are!...and I still respect you for you're bohemian-post-hippie-way-of-life too! )</i> </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Check another one off "The Bucket List"!!!!</span></i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Come-on-in-the-</span></i></span><span style="white-space: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">phenomenon-is-fine</span></i></span></span><span style="font-size: medium; font-style: italic; white-space: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">!</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;">`·.,, ><(((º></span><br />
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</span><i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">obeedúid~</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">20/jan/09</span>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6076660607890138656.post-9945154642341358222010-01-18T10:01:00.001-05:002010-01-18T17:46:56.215-05:00You're Invited!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This coming weekend, </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">on Sunday January 24, </span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>I am the featured poet </i></span></span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>on home turf!</i> </span></span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I will be pulling readings from the vaults, some of which have not seen the light of day since the light was lit! I'm combing through my long-hair stuff, and intending to mix things up!</span></span><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmY0F_CLOIP_fZ4bPjqKtGJNCPm2zoF0oHYQPtvwB0q-hK_6lfenkfs_ws3Dft_odJncX3wlPPOtaVEe0rZjPhnAXkw7ysiMRsVuxMdQie5rhlG_5f6prpgz0rw511gSD_YWzwoOKhw-KR/s1600-h/3rd+Saterday+Invite+2009-2010_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmY0F_CLOIP_fZ4bPjqKtGJNCPm2zoF0oHYQPtvwB0q-hK_6lfenkfs_ws3Dft_odJncX3wlPPOtaVEe0rZjPhnAXkw7ysiMRsVuxMdQie5rhlG_5f6prpgz0rw511gSD_YWzwoOKhw-KR/s640/3rd+Saterday+Invite+2009-2010_0001.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There will be poems about Home, poems about Poems, poems about ol' Lovers, maybe even Mothers!</span></span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhny5aZ3rrVUTm3HR6b-UCxNRwBM6dOJvQYHj-6UQGZaUftcVcRXvyFgdEeA0ITqXVzP0U6Q1cl7_qmkM-T6k6Y4IgVVbouNCktVaciKM5LS9ZnpnoD7QCTgN5dQrRomUB0bvD6w7lRrCOw/s1600-h/3rd+Saterday+Invite+2009-2010_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhny5aZ3rrVUTm3HR6b-UCxNRwBM6dOJvQYHj-6UQGZaUftcVcRXvyFgdEeA0ITqXVzP0U6Q1cl7_qmkM-T6k6Y4IgVVbouNCktVaciKM5LS9ZnpnoD7QCTgN5dQrRomUB0bvD6w7lRrCOw/s640/3rd+Saterday+Invite+2009-2010_0002.jpg" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There will be VideO'ems and Harp Music too! Then afterwards we'll repair to the Pub for some brew!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>(oh man, I have to get out more I'm beginning to sound like Dr. Suess!)</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">obeedúid~</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">18/jan/09</span></span>©️Mark W. Ó Brienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00686014913225780157noreply@blogger.com1