Wednesday, February 28, 2007

It Appears I've Been The Target of Identity Theft

Imagine my surprise this morning when I arrived at work and pulled up my Blogger account to discover that some ranty, obviously mentally unstable,wackjob had posted some vile, venomous expulsions on my blog. I have filed a formal complaint with Blogger and hired an IT Tech to hunt her down. She will surly be sorry for the vomiting of putrid utterances the like I have not seen before. Except on Old K’s site, where you would expect it.

To all my Blog pals I offer my apologies that my good, morally reserved character and clean-mouthed persona was hijacked and used to spout such excrement. I can assure you I have changed my password and put a double secret access code on my account so as to avoid this unpleasantry in the future.

If by any chance this should ever happen again would one of you please do me the favor and e-mail me directly so I can make sure the deviant is ousted. You can send your email to DearPrudence@heywoodyablowme.com
Thanks guys!

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Kate, Sassy and Dive.. What have you done?

Kate asked us to write our post in a strange environment today in 15 minutes. Here is mine and I am apologizing now for the content but it is what is in my strange environment called my brain today.


Fifteen minutes in the brain of middle aged, menstruating woman. Turn back those who have a weak constitution! Fair warning.

What the fuck is up with all these cramps. Isn’t it bad enough that Eve fucked things up and now we have to endure the pain of childbirth, which by the way can never be summed up in any words conjured up by the mortal man. I haven’t slept in 2 nights because not only do you have back breaking cramps, bloating and the ability to spin your head completely around while spewing pea soup, but the hormonal moanings in my body keep me dreaming like I’ve had one too many hit of acid. Acid, remember the time when you and Nathaniel were driving around with David in the back seat, passed out drunk, on one of Nathaniel’s trips back from Maui? We must have dropped 3 hits of acid that night and drank well over 2 cases of beer just driving around looking at the oddness of the night-lights. Then we drive into that sand pit and Nathaniel and I saw what we believed was a murdered women with her head cut off. Funny part was neither of us told the other what we had seen until we were back in town sitting in public where we thought we would be safe. The next day we returned to the pit to discover it was a doll that someone had ripped the head off and thrown it beside the body. Aghhh fuck back to the cramps, cuz they don’t let up no matter how many drugs I take and it’s offsetting my ability to type or even think in a cohesive stream, shit I gotta pee again, another annoyance during “That Time”, just like drinking too much beer or coffee, peeing every 20 min. I think that when you are done with childbearing………………,

Fuck kids, mine are being such assholes today. Ever just not wanna go home? They have so much to be pissy about don’t they. Nice roof over their heads, food in the fridge, I spent the last two weekends cleaning up their dirty laundry ( they clened their rooms) they both dumped in the utility room cuz who the fuck else is going to do it and I am sick of stepping over it to do my own. Why the fuck do they get to steal my bath towels, all the while they get a freakn week off from school and sleep till noon and then call my work over and over to bitch about each other. I still have to get up and get myself off to work so they can enjoy their leisurely lives. I so can’t wait until Ethan is 18. I am out of here! My dad used to call me Leisurely. Funny that.

…………….you should be able to have all the plumbing ripped out and be done with it. Why do you have to continue to suffer until sometime in your 50’s? Women have the CHOICE over one of the most thought provoking Options on the universe but we can't say, just rip the shit out. Why is that?
Well my 15 minutes are up and I gotta pee. Be careful what you ask for.

Friday, February 16, 2007

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

Although we were originally supposed to get 15"-30" of snow from the VD Blizzard, in reality the area I live in only received 13". I know some of you are wondering why I say only. If you have never been "snowed in" you are really missing something. It is peaceful, beautiful and for me at least a welcome reprieve from the day to day grind. I really do enjoy it. However, the northeast is so well equipped to deal with large amounts of snow it rarely happens. Things are cleaned up quickly and life again moves at that hectic pace. The school buses were even on time!
These are a few photo's I took of the beginning of the storm (7:30am)-when I arrived home around 2:30pm and them the next morning after the plow guy had come and the storm was over. Hope you enjoy them.

No the lense isn't dirty it is snowing at a pretty good clip.

In the picture above you can see quite a bit of the little tree to the left of the front door.-

Not for long!



This is looking up the road from my driveway before I left for work




Down the road


This is what things looked like when I returned home from work around 2:30pm

Picture of the barn around 2:30pmThursday Morning you can see the reflection of the sun on the left side of the house-7:15am


Down the Road After

Up, see almost no sign of over a foot of snow.

This is from my living room window looking down at the front steps aroudn 3:00pm Wednesday- poor little trees-

This was in the moring on Thursday. The marks in the snow are from a cat or two trying to get in my bedroom window! Sneaky little shits!

Well that's all folks. Not great shots but I did say I would so I did!

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Hey Where Did I Park That Sled?


Ok, folks it is officially winter! We, at the moment, are in a lull in the Nor'easter that is blanketing the area with 15-30" of white stuff. Living 25 minutes from work is usually a nice ride. It gives you enough time to get your work hat on or your mom hat on. Today will not be quiet so leisurely. It will most likely take a good hour to get back to the old homestead. I know, Dive, waaa waaa. I certainly don't have much to complain about compared to your trek. Still, add the 6" of snow already on the ground, to the 30 mph winds that kick it back over the plowed roads and it makes for a white knuckle ride. So, off I go. Till tomorrow! Ciao.

P.s. I took some pics of the front of my house this morning and will take some after the storm so you can compare. It really is beautiful.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Reflections of Sunday Past

While I work fervently on a rather lengthy post I thought I would share my Sunday past with my blog pals. Just a quiet Sunday that started at 6:15am when the dogs decided they wanted to pee. Margret is the big one and Stella is the little one.

Had they not insisted on going out I would have surely missed this!



Back to bed for an hour, then upstairs for coffee and smoke (I know I am trying!) I love the way smoke plays with light. Its not a great capture but it looks cool none the less.
The picture is of my Great Grandmother (bottom left), my Grandmother Nana Pat (top left), Aunt Dot (top right) and Uncle Donald who died before I was born.

As I wandered back downstairs to dress and put in some laundry I notice the reflections from my front door as they slid down the wall. I thought it would be interesting to chronicle the passing of day with the passing of the reflection. Here goes:


I always thought the glass looked like a Persian cat. This is about 9:00am.


10ish

Noonish


This is from standing in my room at the bottom of the stairs, looking up around 1:30pm

2:30ish as it almost reachesthe bottom steps down to my bedroom door.

This is the last of it as it ran across my bedroom door about 3:30pm. I missed catching it in the middle of the door. I must have been busy doing something. Moms are always doing something!

After the sun had left the front side of my house.

Going, going, gone.

That's all folks!

Monday, February 12, 2007

Monday Melee

1.) The Misanthropic.(Name something - about humanity - you absolutely hate).

Paying good money for a great bottle of wine only to find it is "Corked". Meaning, at some point the seal has been compromised and the wine has gone bad, the liquor store is 30 min away and it is Saturday night. Fuck a duck and make it quack!


2: The Meretricious:(Expose someone or something that's phony, fraudulent or bogus).

All of the stars who "Firstly, want to thank GOD". Sorry, I am not buying it. If that is the case, live the life.

3: The Malcontent:(Name something you're unhappy with).

That I will be unable to share with my 17-year-old daughter what a loser her new boyfriend is, at least while she is still interested in him.

4: The Meritorious.(Give someone credit for something and name it if you can).

The new Operations Manger we hired who is slowly seeing who is full of shit and who is not!

5: The Mirror.(See something good about yourself and name it).

Not today! Too much dreaming last night, I need a nap.

6: The Make-Believe:(Name something you wish for).That April 21st would be here tomorrow so I could sit on Coco Beach, FL and work on my tan lines.

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Lyrically Speaking

The idea for this post comes from a “Group” I belong to, Birches. It is a fan site/blog for the artist Bill Morrissey. For those of you who are not familiar with him here is a little info.

“Since 1984, Bill Morrissey has released a series of albums of original songs that have startled and delighted the following he's built up in touring around the Northeast. By the second one, North, he'd been picked up by the Philo division of Rounder Records. Bill sings in a surprisingly flexible deep voice (somewhat reminiscent of Leon Redbone’s croak, but more supple). His songs are full of humor and pathos, expressed in keenly observed details. This is small-town life, sometimes desperate, sometimes hopeful, but always presented in new, unexpected ways on releases including 1989's Standing Eight, 1992's Inside, 1994's Night Train, and 1996's You'll Never Get to Heaven. Something I Saw or Thought I Saw continued that tradition in 2001.” ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide

Bill is currently in Rehab (alcohol) in NY and will be returning to Tamworth, NH (about an hour from me) where he lives, in the middle of February. Now, in my Monday Melee I mentioned I hate people who use Rehab as the “All Forgiven” This is not the case with Bill. There were no blunders, dunders or otherwise tawdry instances that he needed rescuing from, other than his own demons. He had just finished working on his newest album, which will be released in March. I can’t wait!

Anyway, long story short, some of his fans have been sharing their favorite lines from his past works. If you haven’t ever listened to his music, it is quintessentially small town. You know these people he sings about, they live in your town too, or they are at some point in your life..YOU! Here is the assignment, list five lyrics that stick out in your mind and their significance to you. It can be as zany, quirky or catchy to having had an influence or impact on some aspect of your life.

Here are mine: (Not necessary in order of significance)

1.) Long Gone-Bill Morrissey- Inside: “I’ve been long gone, now I am standing in the doorway of your front hall. Ain’t this better than a letter or a phone call, tell me once again that your still mine.”

Significance: My recent reconnecting-this whole song is “Us”.



2.) Different Currency- Bill Morrissey-You’ll Never Get To Heaven: “She knew strangers don’t do favors and nothing is for free. You gotta pay for everything it’s just with different currency.” “He wasn’t much to look at but she didn’t really care. She was pretty sure his car was good enough to get her all the way down there. She leaned back in her seat, just another bird on the wing . He said “you know this rides a trade off?” she said “Yeah, isn’t everything”.

Significance: My life in general. I have paid a lot of dues, sometimes with different currency.


3.) Ordinary Average Guy-Joe Walsh: “And every Saturday we work in the yard. Pick up the dog doo, hope that it's hard (woof-woof)”.

Significance: It is just freakn’ funny!

4.) Little Head-John Hiatt: “I’m loyal as a dog but I’m a hog for that sexual attraction.It starts up in my mind and makes a bee line below the belt no consequences just satisfaction. Baby in my heart I’m faithful. This two headed monster is so distasteful. Forgive me when my instincts start stinkin, I’m just so easily led when the little head does the thinkin’”

Significance: Aren’t we all a bit “Doggish” when the Little Head does the thinking!

5.) Keep Me In Your Heart-Warren Zevon-The Wind: “Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house, maybe you'll think of me and smile. You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse. Keep me in your heart for awhile. Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams touch me as I fall into view. When the winter comes keep the fires lit and I will be right next to you.”

Significance: I will have this played at my dad’s funeral. He has Alzheimers. That is all I can say about that.


O.K. I’ve shown you mine, now show me yours!

Tuesday, February 6, 2007

Dam It!

These are some pictures I have taken at the dam a short distance from my house. There are pictures of the same areas during the calm of an early Sunday morning, the May Floods of 2006 and just this past weekend on my way to a Superbowl Party.


This is the Bowl/Basin side of the dam. Notice the pointy rock during the spring it is barely visable.


Notice the brown house in the mist, tucked serenely away in the lushness of green that envelopes it and protects it from prying eyes.




Not so protected anymore! There is the pointy rock very noticeable now.



This is the looking up from the basin of the dam during the floods. The basin itself is about 20 feet deep and usually 1/2 full during any point in a normal summer.







The water was actually about 2 feet over the cement lip of the dam. Pretty amazing show of force swirling around in that bowl.




This is the next afternoon. You can barely see the tip of the pointy rock.



This is the outsource of the dam during the flooding.


This little row boat actually made it through the dam itself and out the other side and got caught up in the trees that were about 8 feet underwater.


Same spot this past weekend. Hope you enjoyed the tour of the Gilmanton Dam!

Monday, February 5, 2007

The Monday Melee

1. The Misanthtropic: Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate.
A lot of people are not genuinely kind to old people.


2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus.
All the freakin twats (thanks my British Friends for that cool word) that use re-hab as the “All Forgiven” sign.


3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with.
The day’s are not getting long enough, fast enough. I need sunlight!


4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.
My son, for being honest about eating all the cherry, cream cheese Danish. Hey at 15 honesty is a big thing even if it is a small thing!


5. The Mirror: See something good about yourself and name it.
I am usually smiling.


6. The Make-Believe: Name something you wish for.
My boss would trust that the people he has put in charge will look out for his/company’s best interest.

Friday, February 2, 2007

The Temperance Tavern & The Corners


The house was built in 1793 and was known as the most noted public house in all this part of the country. It served travellers on the Old Province Road which ran from Boston to Portsmouth, to northern New England and Canada. It was named The Temperance Tavern in 1815 when the temperance movement swept New England. "The Tavern" as it is known today continued to serve guests until 1849 when it was bought by Cyrus Gilman and used as a grand private residence.


In 1946, it as acquired by Richard and Eleanor Small, who discovered and restored much of the original wall stenciling still preserved and seen in the house today.




In the 1960's, John Collins lived in and further restored "The Tavern," and for more than two decades, maintained the Tavern as a warm and friendly bed and breakfast. In the 1990's, Boston attorney Jacob Atwood acquired the Tavern and modernized some aspects of the operation, while sensitively and painstakingly assuring its preservation and authentic 18th century New England charm. It is currently for sale, $799,000.00


The Corners, as we locals like to call it, is truely a picture post card of Old New England. These arer a couple of shots I took this summer of a couple of my favorite houses. If you look to the right of this home you can see the Tavern in the background. A gentleman bought this home ,back about when I started to build mine in 2000, and has painstakingly renovated it back to period including the Oil Lamp Lights going up the drive. Very breathtaking!


This is called "The Brick House". It is also one of the most picturesque homes in the Corners.
They run a Reproduction Furniture Store out of the barn. It is for sale, only $775,000.00.



Well this ends the tour of The Corners. After the "I Am" assignment I thought I would just cleanse the brain with some lite Meanderings. I hope you all have a great weekend.

Thursday, February 1, 2007

Neil Diamond Said It Best


I AM.. I SAID....


I am from my Noni and of Lynn, MA I am from the taste of gravy (spaghetti sauces for those not Italian) at one day old. I am from her kitchen with the odors of periwinkles, artichokes, sausage and squid. From the smell of the ocean just outside the window and the circus of family that paraded through her kitchen on a daily basis. I am from my Big Pa and the smell of his uniform after coming home from the sewer treatment plant. From his stogies, fresh tomatoes, basil, mint and big fat green tomato worms that he would squish between his fingers and cuss at while we played in his garden. I am from the Blue Note where Big Pa worked his second job as bartender and served me Sarsaparillas till I could hold no more. I am from listening to Yiddish, Italian and thick Irish, lyrically spoken and the clinking of glass. I am from immigrant, low-class, working stiffs who were loud and sometimes raunchy, warm, comforting and knew the meaning of family and cherished their young ones. Where hugs were abundant and everyone loved everyone.

I am from Nicholson Street where my Nana Pat lived and from her kitchen that you could smell as you turned down her street. From her Pot Roast, her Rum Cake and immaculately kept house. From her starched aprons and her pinned hair. From the old washtub with the rubber roller that she kept in her spotless basement that fascinated me as a child. Where not a single cuss word spoken nor a voice raised or any true sense of affection ever found it's way out into the light. I am from my Little Pa who believed children should be seen and not heard. I guess he believed that about himself as well. I can’t remember ever hearing him speak. I am from the smell of his pipe, his Vicks inhaler I used to steal from the top of his bureau to whiff and the funny little squishy white beads that grew on his immaculately kept hedge that surrounded his immaculately kept yard. I am from sterility of spirit. I am from the hospital parking lot where I waved hello to my Little Pa not knowing I was really waving goodbye as children were not allowed in ICU back in 1972.

I am from Walnut Street in Lynn, MA where summers were sweet and filled with wonder. I am from the grapes in Old Lady Murphy’s yard that was forbidden to enter because her son was a murderer of children who trespassed. I am from Mr. O’Brien-the Pigeon Man, who would bulge out his throat and make funny sounds while he stroked his pigeons, calling them all by name. I am from all the little pigeon eggs that you could hold in your tiny hands in wonder of their smallness. I am from the bonfires at the bottom of the hill every Fourth of July and the all night parties that my Mom and Dad would throw for their friends. From the bands they would hire to play in our living room till all hours of the night. From sneaking downstairs and stepping over the bodies, passed out on the floor, to sneak a sip of whiskey sours. I am from the Doors, Louie Armstrong, The Beatles, The Mama & The Papa's and the Lovin Spoonfulls. I am from the Callahan School that was in the middle of the Projects, where I was the minority. I am from my very first boyfriend who happened to be Black and from my mother who was disgusted and made me promise not to ever do that again! “Your father would have a heart attack, is that what you want?” I am from wondering where they learned to hate. I am from the many bumps and bruises a young girl gets from tagging along with her big brother who didn’t appreciate her adoration. I am from Walnut Street where my dad’s Best Man bought our house for himself and his new bride and two months later he shot her dead and hung himself. I am from disbelief.

I am from Belmont, NH were my folks moved us so we would have a better life, in a safer place, away from the influences of the Big City and “those people”. Where my dad’s new job would jettison us into Middle Class. Where we chased butterflies and lightning bugs through acres of corn and beans. I am from 500 chickens to kill and dress every summer and the 50 turkeys that followed the same demise come fall. From the punishments of weeding acres of string beans in the height of a hot summer day because I spoke my mind or maybe it was because I rolled my eyes when my mother spoke to me. I am from the Black Angus Cows that came to live with us from an Island somewhere in Maine and the 3 calves I watched come into this world during that hot summer and the litters of kittens that were always bouncing around the farm. I am from the newness of life and the finalness of death that farm life instills. I am from being kissed by a boy for the first time in the basement when I was supposed to be stacking wood.

I am from the First Baptist Church and Concord Christian School and the Wednesday Bible Service, the Vacation Bible School and the Choir. From the Word of Life Bible Institute and the 5 days a week devoted to all things Christian. I am from the disillusionment of watching our Pastor have an affair with the organist. From out next Pastors wife who had an affair with a Deacon and from the Deacon who was excommunicated in the middle of the Sunday service because he wanted to divorce his wife. I am from being banned from Marrying in my church because my soon to be husband was not “Saved”. I am from running as fast as I could from those two-faced sonsabitches and believing what I believe when I talk to my God.

I am from Maui, Charleston, SC and the several other places I have wandered through during my 20’s. From the home full of lesbian, on the shore of NC, that took me in when I had no place to stay and helped me get back on my feet so I could crawl back to NH, to my home, where I knew what was what. Where my dad would be sitting in his recliner, in his slippers with the paper in hand waiting for me to come home. Where my mom would be working to deliver new life, she was an OBGYN Nurse, and where I knew she would look at me with worry and disapproval because of the choices I had made. But also where I knew I was safe and could find peace of mind, in my old room. Where my Flower Power wallpaper would be waiting and my headphone and me would buffer the world that was the confusion of my 20s.

I am from the many places I lived with my ex-husband and the turmoil that was our life. The things we bought, the things he sold. The gallons of Vodka, the splintering of wood and the inevitable apologies come daylight. I am from my three kids, two who were born at my childhood home so they could always find their roots. I am from divorce and rebirth, from strength of spirit and cries in the night, so as not to alarm the kids. From persistence and determination that I would be fine and so would they. I am from making sure I hugged them and kissed them every chance I get so they will never wonder why their mom never hugged them. I am from showing them what love FEELS like and that my arms are always there to support and guide them.

I am from finding the love of my life. I am from watching him go because life is just that way sometimes. I am from rediscovering him and knowing things will work out… someday. I am from having learned enough patience to wait!

I am from finding a great job and the nausea that I felt knowing I had bullshitteded my way into it. I am from mastering my job and becoming #3 in the company. I am from Peyton Place where I built a home. Where my kids could develop friendships, memories and know what Home means. Swimming at the damn on a hot summer day, watching the fireworks off the deck and sitting on the deck on a quiet Sunday morning listening to Norah Jones and watching the birds fly by. Wandering around town at 11:00pm and not worrying about a drive by shooting. I am from leaving my door unlocked, my keys in my car and every window in the house open if the weathers good and knowing all is well.

I am from peace of spirit and fullness of soul. I am from understanding that life and love takes time and time is what we have!