The 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.


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.

There are still a vast number of flags that may never be saved!

Private and corporate donations can be made to:
“The Natural Heritage Trust —
DMNA Donation Fund”
and sent to: Director, Natural Heritage Trust
New York State Office of Parks, Recreation and
Historic Preservation
Agency Building 1, Empire State Plaza
Albany, NY 12238.

~

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.

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.




We arrived (met in the parking lot after work and connecting in Cohoes) at 3:00 p.m.




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...

Long story short: Chris is sent me everything he has on the unit for my research!!!! (THANKS CHRIS IT WILL BE INVALUABLE!!!)

I think he must have thought that if he sent me everything he had, eventually I would shut-up...

He doesn't know me very well now does he?!!!

~

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....

It is for personal use only they said. I printed it out and it will take a prominent place on my wall soon!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.

obeedúid~
16/may/10

Location:S Main St,Voorheesville,United States

Ireland: Digitally Entranced.

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.

obeedúid~
09/april/10

Some people are not my friends....

Well, on Facebook anyways... 


Perhaps because they haven't acquiesced to "The-group-think-social-networking-in-the-21st-century-phenomenon "...


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 "Friends" who would like to see me do something silly and still be a "Rebel-without-a-facebook-account..." 


(You know who you are!...and I still respect you for you're bohemian-post-hippie-way-of-life too! ) 


:{D

Check another one off "The Bucket List"!!!!
Come-on-in-the-phenomenon-is-fine!


`·.,,  ><(((º>

obeedúid~
20/jan/09

You're Invited!

This coming weekend, 

on Sunday January 24, 

I am the featured poet 

on home turf! 

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!

There will be poems about Home, poems about Poems, poems about ol' Lovers, maybe even Mothers!

There will be VideO'ems and Harp Music too! Then afterwards we'll repair to the Pub for some brew!

(oh man, I have to get out more I'm beginning to sound like Dr. Suess!)


obeedúid~
18/jan/09

A Video-poem that is part of a quartet I wrote based on a poem by Yeats.

I have been holding back on posts here as I feel that I don't want to post any more of the Novel before I finish it and send it off for publication; when ever that time comes. This is what I did this past week when I was actually home for a change and feeling creative:

The last line was the first line of the WB Yeats poem "There." It is my intention to write 3 more poems that end in the next 3 lines of the same poem. The object being to write towards a predetermined conclusion rather that from a starting point. An exercise to test myself if you will. :`)

`·.,,  ><(((º>

obeedúid~

11/Nov/09

The Lord just saved my butt again...

I should have known when I spilled my coffee @ Church Council!

When I got home tonight I let the dog and cat play in the stairwell, so they wouldn't get up at the window and pull down my clean curtains looking for me; out the front window while I was in the Laundromat cleaning and closing up for the night.

I could hear them running up and down the stairs having a ball as I mopped. When I finished up, I turned off the lights and headed for the front door. The front door that wouldn't open!

It seems the "boys" knocked down the snow shovel which is just the right size to fit between the door and the bottom stair! I thought maybe it was my vacuum but at that point I didn't know.

~

In my younger days I would have simply scaled the side of the building and pulled myself up over the back deck. I have a bit of a paunch these days so I was thinking that I had better find another way in. So I knocked on the tenant’s door and asked if I could use his deck...

He “stirruped” me up onto the roof from his side of the building. I then walked across the top of the building in the dark along the edge 2 stories up. :0)

When I reached my side of the store I grabbed onto an exhaust pipe and swung down over the roof above my deck... :O

...ripped up my left arm, fell on my BUTT, rolled across the deck up against the rail and dropped my pride over the edge!

I am SOOO out of shape and gettin' OLD!

Just goes to show you the LORD still has a plan for me!

That and I still have DUMB LUCK!

:')

obeedúid~

01/sept/09

(...oh Mr. Bushmills... Can you say: "Medicinal Purposes" ?)

Things I have absorbed from my "Learning experiences..."

I am an inherently happy person.

Being 99% happy can be undermined by 1% negativity.

I can spend an entire weekend listing my blessings.

I don't blend well with negative people even though I empathize with them.

An addict will never recover if he/she persists in surrounding him/her self with addicts.

Even if you love/empathize with an addict they have to heal themselves.

You can be addicted to a person/idea/concept/ideal/dream.

The first step to health may be abandoning the ones that you love to their own negativity/addictions.

Well-being can be lonely way of life.

Healthy laughter can be a joyous release!

Love for my fellow man and a few hours of good conversation with friends who really love you for what/who you are and not what they think you should be can begin to heal the deepest wounds.

Faith and positive outlook is everything.

"Learning experiences" are in the eye of the beholder.

obeedúid~

30/aug/09

We knew this must happen but when did It transpire?

I've been told I'm too young to feel this way:

~

Go on with you then:

Never quite comfortable

with bodily furniture as one ages

when the soul tires of its garment,

we cling to the trash and tinsel of our hides.

Wondering why we left our hormones alone

inside the bedded night

first blinding cupid with our dreams

then allowing him the freedom to guide.

Grown old we think:

We knew this must happen but when did It transpire?

Was it simply wild youth?

…or reckless middle age stalking hearts desire?

We knew it must happen this growing old,

we watched it from the choir!

What If we had sought truth through-out our middle age?

What then of desire?

Perhaps that’s why we stood here fast to the floor

our garments crinkled on the armature.

Perhaps that’s why we stand here still

and rearrange the furniture.

You do realize don’t you?

…the key is turning in the door….

~

I don't know, maybe its because of what I've been through lately, maybe its because of what I've been reading, maybe I'm just an old soul sometimes... anyway, whether I'm speaking to myself, or the ages, I've had a lot to think about these past few weeks.

Yeats said: "The Art often expresses what the man lacks." I know what I currently lack, and as much as I desire it I also know that I am doing quite well without it at the moment thank you very much!

Life will change in the next year... drastically: and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with any of it. As much as I know that "The only thing constant is change." I have been mostly happy in my chosen bohemian lifestyle.

Its what I have come to be accustomed to after all!

Judging by the poetic themes I have been gravitating to over the last year what I lack is a constant called Love. ...I am finally at a stage where I am no longer going to settle for companionship for companionship sake though ~

It took me half a century but I'm finally there believe it or not.

I know what I'm lacking, I know the key is in the door, and I know its time to rearrange the furniture in earnest this time...

This may get messy, but I can't watch from the Choir any more.

"Look out world, time's a wastin' and here I come!"

obeedúid~

16/aug/09

Mary of the Gaul's....

At the last meeting of the EOTNP, or maybe it was the meeting before that, we decided to each bring in an object and distribute them around the table to see how it would affect a poem. I was given to choose a broach of "Saint Brigid's Cross".

Brigid, was also known as Mary of the Gaul’s.

As my Mom was a collector of Crosses from around the world; I am quite familiar with this one. In fact I think Mom may have even had her own version of this broach. This is the poem that the broach affected:

There is a sight I must have looked:

I was thinking now

of how you asked us each

to hold you

tiny in our arms

as I reach for the phone

to call you

holding St. Brigid’s cross

tiny in my hand.

obeedúid~

07/aug/09

"...Last night I dreamed a dream..."

As I was waking this morning I had this dream: The Adult me was walking with the child me, The Adult me was holding a bunch of balloons. The child me asked the adult me: "Can I use those Balloons to visit my Mom in heaven?" "No." I said to myself "You weigh too much to be lifted off the ground by a bunch of Balloons..." "Oh." I said, "Then can I use the Balloons to send my prayers to heaven so God knows that she's coming?" "No." said I, "The Balloons would be bad for the environment when they burst and fell back down to earth." "Then how will God know that she's coming I asked myself?" "Don't you worry," I said to me, "It will all work out somehow."

Then I rolled over and yawned. As I sat there musing and I slowly came to conscious me, I realized several things. The adult me was the me of my mature faith. The child me was the one who still believes in happily ever after.

And the Balloons? Well, the Balloons are my posts, the Balloons are my poems, and the Balloons are you too!

If you are reading this, and you think a thought, feel a feeling, say a prayer: then God will know that Mom is on her way.

"Don't you worry," I said to me, "It will all work out somehow."

obeedúid~

29/july/09

In memory of my Mom:

Looking at the table to keep the memory of it living:

There being no hedge or fence round time

you can go back, have what you like

you can be the child that was

dipping at the well of remembrance

you can still feel how it felt

as though you were still small

smell the soup

watch it ladled

taste the mutton with your nostrils now

all those people are still alive

some leaning back with their eyes shut

smiling

some speaking with their mouths full

laughing

and you are sitting in your mothers lap.

obeedúid~

26/july/09

YARR! The Anatomy of a search.

I was working on this blog some time back but I got sidetracked and never finished it. When we went to Ireland one of my favorite places that we visited was Ballyarr wood. The reason we went there is contained here. I have been intending to post some of my pictures from Ballyarr that relate that part of our trip so this will should serve as a prelude of sorts:

In a pile of Obituaries and Newspaper clippings I found this clue:

Sarah Harvey nae Diver was my Great Great Great Grandmother and the Mother of My Great Great Grandfather's (James Alexander Gilmour) wife: Sarah Harvey Gilmour.

A Post of Moville, County Donegal,
Embarkation point north of Londonderry.

County Donegal is west of, and very near to where the Gilmour's came from at Killaloo Glebe. Armed with this clue I searched Donegal for the Townland of Ballyor mentioned in this Obituary.

~~~

Guess what... No such location. So I brought up Google maps, zoomed in and crept slowly across the entire county inch by inch. Just North of Letterkenny I came upon Ballyare and Ballyarr, Ballyarr Glebe and Glenview Ballyare.

This must be the place.

~~~

Next, I searched The Origins Network for maps of Ballyarr, Donegal. and this is what I found:

A Map of the Townland of Ballyarr, Parish of Tullyfern,
County of Donegal and its environs.

The original scan was a very poor high contrast xerox. I enhanced it as best I could in a imaging program but it is still quite lacking.

The results for the Griffiths data was a bit better:

Click to enlarge.

If you look closely you will notice a Henry and James Diver listed with map references , which unfortunately do not have the corresponding references numbers 13a&b and numbers 14 a&b on the map. It does however indicate that they were evaluated as having: "Houses, offices, land" that they were expected to pay local tax on to their Landowner/leaseholder: Thomas Petterson.

~
When we got to Ireland I tried to find a corresponding map to actually locate them. It unfortunately didn't happen. (more on this later...)
~

So, what did I know now that I didn't know when I started. The correct name and probable place, of the birthplace of my ancestor Sarah (Diver) Harvey in 1849 at the height of the famine.

From here I moved onto passenger lists on Ancestry.com:

I found a Dever family entering Philadelphia PA. on the ship Jan Anderson in 1853. John, Catherine and Sarah was 4 years of age at the time.


Diver or Dever? It all comes down to what the person writing the name down though was the right way to spell what they were hearing. What is important here is age and the emigration point Londonderry , Ireland.


O.K., so Diver is spelled Dever. There is one that's listed as and transcribed as Dever but when you look at the original it is actually Diver, but her birth year listed is 1844. The embarkation point was Londonderry, Ireland as well, so I decided to go with the info in my Obituary. I'm going to have to say that even though the spelling varies, the correct birth date is more often more reliable in the Obit even though they got the location spelling wrong. I have found that the possibility that someone misspelled the last name is most probably the case on average also.

~~~

More on this later....

obeedúid~
07/08/09

No posts recently...

This is what I have been up to:

That and messin with Facebook....
(see sidebar.)

obeedúid~

06/july/09

Redemption.

Well, the thing I learned from "Shannon" that stuck with me was this: As a Shell-shock victim recovers he/she gets better faster as he/she recovers. So without going into the details of what transpired at Church and my process of dealing with old wounds reopened; the act of creating this weeks worship-video was over the course of 8 or 10 revisions just what I needed to come out of my spiritual funk.

(By nature this public blog is ambiguous and details are intentionally poetical and obscure in their specifics.)

Somehow I don't think Steve knew consciously when he selected the text and asked me to do the video but it was just the thing I required to connect me again. Funny how things work that way sometimes. My healing process is far from done but presently healthy.

This Video is a "Sneak-peek" preview of this Sunday and version number ??? I may still tweak it if needs be but I'm comfortable with it as is. My older "Yoot Goopies" will be happy I think.

Gotta love it when you can get away with playing the Foo Fighters in Church...

:)

obeedúid~

24/june/09

What I got for Fathers Day...

Drunk... On Cupcakes! Well not actually drunk. Actually I got "Baked" after I had Black and Tan on an empty stomach with 2 of my daughter's "Irish-Car-Bomb-Cupcakes" as chasers.

(...mmmmm...The last one...)

Cupcake made with "Guinness" + Chocolate Gnash "Bushmills" filling topped with "Baily's Irish Cream" icing =

My daughter can bake!

obeedúid~
23/june/09

"Shannon." by Frank Delany

I loved this book. It tells the story of a shell shocked priest who has lost his vocation and therefore his soul. His search follows the Shannon River up one side and down the other. Literary and figuratively.

Unfortunately along the way I realized that I have lost my way as well. I realized this when I read this exchange in chapter 10 on page 110:

Michael the Lion had more stains on his clothes than Robert had ever seen. And the more Robert stared, the more some of them began to look like Lion's heads. Michael started to speak again.
"I have serious things to say about people tracing their family. The reason we want to discover our ancestors is a strong thing. 'Tis as strong in certain ways, if you'll forgive me, Father, as prayer. Here's what I'm saying. If I said you're forty years of age, and all you know about yourself is that you were born, say, over the hill there, in some old bit of a house, you've nothing to go on. You've, like, no bank account. I mean, what was there before you, your father and maybe your grandfather? Thats as far as you can go, God help you, for you're a poor man.
He had caught Roberts attention, as much with his passion as with his ideas. Robert leaned forward, trying hard as he had ever done to concentrate and retain.
"A poor man." he repeated.
"Yes, Father, a poor man. A very poor man."
The Lion hit his arm of his chair with a thump- and Robert did not start in fright.
"A very poor man, because supposing you did not know who you were in the long-term backwards- and suppose you knew that in the long-term backwards there was a wonderful sportsman or artist or a woman famous for her piano playing in your family- well, you'd go forward in a different mood, wouldn't you? And you'd want to know, were you any small bit like them, wouldn't you? And if you were- well, wouldn't that lift your spirits? Those are the benefits of the past."
The Lion grabbed his glass and sat forward.
"Father, if we don't come from somebody, we're nobody. If we don't come from somewhere, we come from nowhere. And if we don't know where we came from, how do we know where to go."

This pretty much sums up what I have been after these past years. I now know that I am a rich man, with a rich past, but I lost my vocation along the way and I'm not sure which way to go. Kinda counter to what is being said here. Maybe that's why I feel so lost.

obeedúid~
14/june/09

Want to learn more about Frank Delaney? Click on the thumbnail of his book in this blog and you will be taken to his official site.

Train wreck. Turn or look away?

Humans love to watch. We tune in every night at 8 religiously. We buy the Tabloids. Some get the DVD on Tuesday at Wally World or catch Jerry Springer on lunch in the Break-room.

As long as its not our own train wreck its great!

~

What is privacy in today's world? Is it your SSI Number or your intimate feelings? Everyone defines this one differently.

When dose honesty preclude private? Especially if your private is not mine?

You can try to gauge someone Else's feelings but the odds are you're going to be wrong sometimes.

~

With love comes curtain obligations that come with the territory. When someone dose something unpleasant, it can affect you more than you realize. Particularly if you love them!

Timing is everything.

It can be extremely difficult to forgive someones actions if they are unaware of the offense or transgression. They may continue to offend without knowing.

Integrity is everything too.

~

What ever your position, you can at least learn from it.

"Just because you're a Republican doesn't mean I don't love you!"

"Just because you're a Liberal doesn't mean I think you're a jerk!"

~

The way I see it:

"You make love; you die. Hopefully you make love more than you die."

obeedúid~
10/june/09

The Roller-coaster ride gets weirder....

Friday night, Mom was so bad the Nurse made a special run to St. Peters for Morphine. My brother woke us all up at around 4 a.m.

On Saturday My sister in-law came in from Syracuse, her Mom came over from next door, My sister flew in from Florida shortly after Noon.

We were all there. It was not looking good.

~

Then my sister took charge. Saturday afternoon and night she managed to get Mom to stabilize; and admit that she was not sure that she had been taking all the Meds that she needs.

Today, Sunday, Mom is taking meals and sitting up again. She is doing the Nebulizer again and looks 100% better.

This is a process. It will not stop, but it seems to not be as far along as My brother and the Nurse thought. As long as Mom dose what she is supposed to do.

So now we go from a part time aid to a full time aid. Someone who can make sure Mom is taking things when she is supposed to all the time.

Admittedly some of this is confusion. (Did I take it? I did didn't I?) Not unheard of in these circumstances.

~

We went from the brink and back in a wink. Things will only continue to progress. The long road continues. I am relieved as are we all that what we anticipated did not come to pass, but I never cared for Roller-coasters like some people do.

I have to admit my capacity for empathy makes this harder. I cant stand to see anyone I love suffer, least of all my Mom.

I don't think she ever cared for Roller-coasters either. I do however seem to remember My Nana doing something similar to my Mom. Mom did the same thing with her that my sister did: put her foot down and laid down the law.

We none of us ever fall far from the tree.

~

When my time comes, I am going to wander off into the woods, climb a mountain, lay down and go to sleep.

Send out the Saint Bernard dogs and Fill them up with Guinness if you want me to co-operate, 'cause I can be a "Stubborn Thick Mick" too.

~

Thank-you all for your notes and prayers. Dont stop prayin' though, it ain't over yet....


"Markle-Farkle"
07/june/09

What hope becomes.

The Keening:

“Try to breath, just a little bit deeper…”

The extravagance of your breath when lost
to a notepad on the bedstead of a lifetime
of dreams lived vicariously reduced to nebulization
makes every moment scream and cry
from the cavern of the mind.

Around you images of 84 years
the passion
of an inherited fragrant mind.

What remains unchanged
but the beauty of one's soul ?
I count myself decked and altered
knowing that decline must lead to rest
for your aching heart.

As Christ bids you leave us your legacy behind
to weep & wail the Banshee
you find mid-air between sunshine and wind.

Leaving us men and women here
knowing all will pass heaven’s flutter
behind you bereft of dotage
lives to live and courses to run
the road at door opening

“Don’t leave without a jacket; you’ll catch your death…”

obeedúid~
05/june/09

As I age I have come to realize that there is a fine line between optimism and masochism.

When does devotion become obsession?

Is it enough to know what might make you happy and never attain it?

Can that be consolation enough?

Just when does hope become pathetic?

When does the passage of time make patience a hindrance?

There's a poem in here somewhere.

obeedúid~
04/june/09