The Power of the Senses - Book Excerpt

Sometimes you can identify with events in your life by a smell.

If you close your eyes and catch that scent it can take you right back to that time in your life.

The smell that can suck me right back to the Mediterranean sea in 1976 is a shampoo. Back then it was Wella shampoo, which they don’t make anymore. Years and years have passed since I have caught that scent. I had heard some great things about a brand of shampoo and conditioner so  I ordered some online. The first time I used it I almost cried. There it was! The “wella” smell! It Actually made me dizzy from all the memories that flooded back. I stood there, with my eyes closed, washing my hair in the shower… it was like I was 7 years old and in the shower at the cinder block building on the Mediterranean coast. The memories are a blur, I’m sure there is a reason for that, but the olfactory senses never lie and like lightening can take me back to a moment in time - washing my hair in that ocean front shower and cleaning up before heading back into the mountains. 

The Mediterranean sea is totally different to me than the north Carolina coast. The sun seems brighter and more golden. And even though the sun has been shining the same on both coasts, it feels older, warmer, and clearer. I knew that I was living in the same area of the world that Jesus lived and I would be ok in this strange land because I was somehow closer to him there.

The only reason I had any idea of Jesus, who he was, where and how he lived was because of my grandfather taking me to mass all the time. I bet we went 2-3 times a week. Everything around me felt old and ancient. I could imagine, from the pictures in books, him walking right through the village and things not being too different from the way they were when I was there. The old women in the village would be gathered in the same place making bread the same way. OH! How I loved that bread!!! It was made on a dome that was sitting on bricks over a fire. The women would toss the dough like you see pizza dough tossed and then throw it on that dome. It would cover the whole dome. When it was done they would take it off and throw it in a round basket and then toss some more dough on the dome. It was much like a very large tortilla but thinner. My mother would put peanut butter on it and roll it up for me like a burrito. I wish I could taste that bread again. It would be just like the shampoo smell and suck me right back in time for an instant so I never forget.  

I read this often...

Thank you to Morgan Freeman - who many years ago in an interview enlightened me to this.
I read this often to keep me focused and in tune with myself and the world around me.
I thought I would share....

Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste.

And remember what peace there may be in silence.

Go as far as possible without surrender, stay on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant.

They too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others you may become vain and bitter.

For always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your career however humble, it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is,

many persons strive for high ideals and everywhere life is full of heroism

Be yourself

Especially do not feign affection.

Neither be critical about love; for in the face of aridity and disenchantment

 it is as perennial as the grass

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself

You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here and

whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be, and whatever your labors

and aspirations , in the noisy confusion of life , keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be Careful. Strive to be happy.

Just Remember This My Friends....

Flash Back Friday - April 22, 2007

Last day in Disney World we had nothing planned or scheduled for the day so we decided to hang out by the pool and just relax. We stayed at the pool all day Sunday and my girl had the best time. My mother started ordering from the bar about 1PM. By 6 I was ready to crawl in the bed. I only had 4 ½ margaritas but you would think I had 20. Something between tequila and sunshine completely toasted my ass. I laid down by 7PM and tried to go to sleep. I don’t think I slept all night that night. I drank a bottle of water but when I woke up at 4AM I didn't have a headache so I thought everything was going to be ok. At 7AM we are getting up and cramming everything in our suitcases so we can get down to the Magic Express Bus to take us to the airport. It was at that time the tequila and sunshine came back with a vengeance. Oh My God… I haven’t ever been sick off of liquor. I didn't have a headache and to be honest.. I only drank 4 and a half drinks! But I am telling you one thing… it was BAD… if it wasn't for my step sister (bless you jess)  and her athletic fit self I would probably still be sitting at the Polynesian Resort. She ran back and forth with the luggage while I was trying to stop barfing and keeping up with my child. I started to the bus and sat there waiting to get on board… after we start heading to the airport I had to get up and go to the bathroom. It is just big enough to sit down in and I was holding onto the walls with both hands praying for the world to stop MOVING. After the second trip to the bathroom we arrived at the airport. Let me tell you… there is nothing worse than being sick hung over in the bathroom of a moving bus.

I then had to get in line and manually check in my luggage at a kiosk/computer.

That was when I looked and saw how far the bathroom was knowing that another wave was coming. I just leaned on my suitcase and prayed HARD. “Dear Jesus, please just let me get through this line and the security area you can start this all over again. Please please please just let me get through all this where I can sit in a bathroom. I promise I will be good” And Ill tell you one thing.. I didn't get sick there and I didn't get sick again. I made it through all that – with Fallon and got to the gate and just sat there .. knowing that I was going to be sick again. But I didn't get sick. Rode the plane home and everything was fine. Got to moms house… hugged everyone and we got in my car and hit the road. Now I will say that driving home was a challenge. I decided to stop and get us something to eat. Brave.. of me since I hadn't had anything to eat in over 24 hours and knew my stomach wasn't right. So I stopped at Chic-fil-a and I managed to eat a chicken sandwich and it was the best thing I had ever eaten IN MY LIFE . Got home… fell into bed… done.

It took me the rest of the week and the following weekend to recover and feel normal again.

Of course it was all my mothers fault… had she not opened a bar tab at the pool bar I would have never gotten the first drink.. And I think she actually brought my first one to me. Bad influence.

7 years later I have not gone down that road again… don’t plan on it either. Tequila is not my friend and hell will freeze over before I ever drink it again. Of course my boss thought it was hilarious… apparently I left him a voice mail telling him how wonderful he was and I just loved him. I don’t remember that… but he saved the voice mail for years just for giggles. Every now and then he would play it for me… “remember this???  Ha ha ha ”” .. No sir I don’t… And that is ok with me. 

Once Upon an Old House - Part 4

It was almost sunset the next time I was able to go by the old house. The sky had lovely purple, pink and orange colors as the sun was slowly sinking on the horizon. No one working at the house and they had cleared as much as they were probably going to as evidenced by the 2 story pile in the middle of the field ready for a match.

The house was so majestic sitting up on the hill and I noticed that, at one time it looked like it was a pale yellow color. Could this place be any more lovely? A pale yellow old farmhouse high on a hill with a huge front porch and shade trees. The owner had planted a few knock out rose bushes, planted grass in the front and added a little bit of landscaping around the trees. The porch was perfect for a swing and some ferns and flowers. Right out of a story book. I could picture this house on the cover of Southern Living with all the greenery and a glass of sweet tea inviting me to take a seat on the swing and set awhile.

The front steps were all broken and had been removed so I had to go in the back door. Obviously there had been homeless people living in this house for quite some time. The trash factor was beyond words. If there was a show for homeless hoarders this would have been a prime location. Dirty, filthy, nasty and I do believe I started to itch. In the corner of one room there was a sheet hanging as if someone wanted privacy while changing clothes. Fires had obviously been burned in the very shallow fireplaces, and still more trash as I go room to room.

.If you can get past the trash… and see the house you would see some amazing qualities. The floors were hardwood… and OLD hardwood. If they were like my house all they needed was some sanding and one coat of clear and they would be breath taking! French doors between rooms. Fire places in the corners of two rooms. The plaster walls with solid wood behind them. All the ceilings were tongue and groove woodwork, just like the ceiling in my son’s room. Old school. I love it.

 

The windows were the old beveled glass and wood –rope pulley windows. When you look out of them it is similar to the heat on a hot summer day coming off of the pavement in waves. The imperfections in the glass give it the distorted wave appearance. In what was the living room or parlor there was a rocking chair, upholstered just like the ones a great grandmother would sit in the corner in front of the window looking outside. It looked lonely there as the only piece of furniture in the house.  How many years had that chair been a part of the lives of those who lived here? How many babies had been rocked here… looking at the world go by just past the front porch rails.

If I closed my eyes I could imagine the fireplace in the corner crackling and warming the room, a very old lady rocking in that chair. On the windows hung delicate lace Victorian curtains that had yellowed some with age and the hardwood floors had heavy area rugs, whose purpose was mostly for insulation, and were faded by the filtered sunlight. Allowing  the “oldness” of this house to take over my imagination, all my senses were heightened with my eyes closed. The smells of 100 years of good southern cooking were coming out of the walls. Lard; yes the good stuff, lots of biscuits were baked here! Fried chicken and fried pork chops along with ham, bacon, eggs, collards, butter beans, 10 layer chocolate cakes. Days were spent putting up vegetables in mason jars and storing them in the pantry.

 

The good old days, days gone by - times that were some of the best in American history. From horse and buggy to the first cars and paved roads, prohibition and depression, the worst hurricanes, WWI, WWII, Korean War and Vietnam. This house had seen and survived it all and was still standing. A survivor, receiving a much needed and deserved second chance, now getting ready for another 100 years.

Just a Sunday Reminder

Best Ever... IT Cosmetics

 

Ok - This is a girl thing...

I have used many many high end lines of makeup.
This BY FAR is the best I have ever used.
IT Cosmetics has won me over and that is not an easy thing to do.
The CC + cream is a full coverage 50SPF cream foundation that goes on beautifully with the provided big brush. On top of it I use the Celebration Foundation as a powder.

OMG is all I can say.
I have never seen my skin so flawless... barely see any pores. Almost an airbrushed perfection.
The CC Cream runs about $38 and about every three months on QVC you can get it in a super size with the brush. The Celebration Foundation as pictured with the applicator brush is $43.50.

I know this is expensive. It does last a long time- longer than anything from a store.
I plan on trying as much as I can from this line. Little by little of course because of the Price.
But in the end ... it is really sometimes you get what you pay for, and there are some things I am funny about. I like to look at the drug stores shadows, blushes and anything for color... but the basics... nope.. have to be the good stuff.

Plus ... the girl that represents this company... she is no perfect chick.. she is curvy, healthy, a "big" girl some would say. I like her... she is real... she is not a model and she has the same problems with skincare the rest of us have. Which is another reason I am SOLD!

Once Upon an Old House - Part 3

On my way to take my children to school every morning and picking them up in the evening I drive past the cleanup effort around the old house. Every day there are people and heavy duty equipment working hard to uncover the gem that is hidden in the woods. It is a sight to behold!  As the sun is rising on a new day, the unveiling of what lies beneath all mother nature has kept protected is a slow and tedious process. Great care is taken to not clear away any more than is needed. There are some small out buildings that are falling down and on my second trip past that day they had already been torn down and cleared away.

How fortunate for me that I know someone that works for the man that purchased the property. Apparently this is not the first time he has taken on such a labor of love, restoring an old house. About 8 years ago he bought a 1914 prairie style brick mansion that was much like this house, old, dilapidated, neglected and hidden from the world due to overwhelming growth of the weeds, trees and wild shrubbery. I never knew that house was there either and it was huge! It took him two years, and he was hands on every day along with a crew of employees, lovingly restoring every nook and cranny. This home is now a bed and breakfast and is well known for the extravagant weddings that are held there year round. If he can do that … I can’t wait to see what he will do to this old farm house. I asked my friend if she thought he would mind if I went by now and then to see what he has done. She said she would let me know when he was out of town and they were taking a break while he was gone so I could go up there and see all the amazing progress.

A couple of days went by and she called me. The owner was out of town for a few days and if I wanted to see the house now was the time. It was a mess and when he returned the next item on the agenda was to get it all cleaned out and see what he had to work with.

On my first trip I only had time to explore the outside of the house. The foundation looked to be in great shape. The front steps had seen better days. I could tell this man had a deep respect for all things old and the intent to maintain the integrity of the original construction, as evidenced by a pallet to the left of the steps. As they were being cleared away the intact bricks were being stacked carefully so they can be used when it was time for reconstruction. I would have cleared all of it away and tried to match the brick later. 

No… that isn’t how it is done.

It was then I had the first of many epiphanies. In order to restore you have to stick to the original plan as much as possible. I am already learning something … save what you can because the original is always better than a reproduction.

My Bathroom Scale is a Lying Sack of Electronics

Yes – I have come to the conclusion that my bathroom scale has some kind of strange vendetta against me. I can fix that real quick… trash can.  Numbers on that damn thing never go down. I stepped on it the other morning and jumped off it as if it was on fire... then I kicked it.  They have inched up one by one for a total of twenty times since 2007. 20 pounds in 7 years. When you look at it like that it doesn't sound so bad. Oh but it is. It is horrible. I think about it all the time. And I honestly don’t think I eat enough to warrant a gain of 20 in 7 years. What the hell is that about? I guess it is what I eat and not really how much I eat. I guess if I ate the caloric equivalent of my daily consumption in rice cakes I would be sitting here all day continuously eating instead I choose to consolidate my needs and cram all those nasty calories into a sandwich or a rib eye. What the hell ever…But there it is… on that expensive digital scale.. that has found a new home …in the trash can.

So, yes I still have the big Fusion Juicer that I have been slack about using over the last month or so due to circumstances beyond my control. And on a whim at a low moment this last month I bought the Zumba box set. I received it about 3 weeks ago via UPS… I know… it has been sealed in the box it was shipped in and sitting in my dining room for three weeks. I just haven’t had the time or the inclination to open it… I have too much other crap to do. And by the time I get everyone wound down and fed bathed and watered it is 9PM and I am ready to pass out myself. What I didn’t think about when I bought this Zumba box set was when the hell am I supposed to find 30 minutes without interruption to Zumba ??? Besides I hate to sweat. I hate to break a sweat and get hot. It makes me unbearably cranky and gives me a hot headache. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking… I am too accident prone to even attempt to Zumba. For real. That is a sure fire trip to the ER for me.

                                                              BTW - This is me

I need a new TV in my bedroom… if I bought a TV DVD combo I might could get up in the morning before I get my little man up and do a little Latino rhythm.. nah.. that means I would have  to get up at 515 and do what?? Dance ?? SWEAT??? Did I forget how much I hate to sweat? Before the sun even breaks the horizon? I have enough trouble staying awake at 4PM every day. I can’t imagine if I got up 30 minutes earlier and danced like a mental patient around my room that it would improve my energy level to overcome the lack of sleep.

My mind says “yes yes yes” the devil on my shoulder and my lovely gazillion dollar pillow say “no no no” …come hither… lay down and read this great book. The pillow is my friend… it cradles my round head in complete cool comfort… and I am a Libra.. we are all about comfort… and coolness … and not sweating.

Need a new plan.

Mothers Day 2014

For those that know me, and those that don’t, y’all all know my mother passed away a few weeks ago. This was my first holiday without her and of course it was flipping Mothers Day. Well there is one thing in my favor, holidays aren’t such a big deal on my side of the family so I don’t think, other than Thanksgiving and Christmas, I will feel the pang of the loss of my mom on those days. The days I will feel it are the normal days when I have a few minutes or I make the time to call her and vent, bitch, complain or just talk to her about this and that. Trust me when I say that there will be many more normal days that I will miss her than holidays.

My mom was a Christian, a non- church going catholic to be more specific. She always had her rosary and her holy statues around the house. She would throw a catholic rule at you in a skinny minute. This was the same woman that shacked up and “lived in sin” for 20 years. She couldn't say shit to me when I did it .. that was some kind of funny.  She always had a deep spiritual side. A few years ago after my grandmother died she decided to go see the medium John Edward when he came to Raleigh. When we discussed it prior to the event I told her not to be surprised when her mother plowed her way to the front of the spirit line and wanted to talk to her. Sure enough… John singled out my mom –because of my granny. I forget what all was said but it was significant enough that she was a firm believer from then on.

Well guess what… Ol John Edward is coming back to Raleigh after several years and the love of her life and I are going. Tickets bought… paid extra for the one on one time too. We have some questions for her. And we would like some answers. We may go and he not even single us out… But I feel like if she is on the other side with granny… those other people in the room don’t stand a chance.

The only thing I think she will call me out on is where I put her ashes… well I was afraid in my house of clutter that inconspicuous cardboard box could easily get tossed as trash… so out of dire need of something decent to put her ashes in I found a sassy cookie jar that has a Velcro picture frame on the front. You can change the frame to other things for seasonal events. It is mainly for newlyweds but this time it is for her.

I have found a potter in California that will design the container I want but I won’t get it right away. In the mean time she is in this sassy cookie jar (I think she would like it) on the shelf … with our two dogs. I am sure she is not happy being on the shelf in the place of honor between those two dogs. But damn.. the last thing I want to happen is that damn jar break and ashes go everywhere… Oh My God… Makes me woozy just to think about it. Ill get that pretty jar with a lid and I hope it arrives before we go to see Mr. Edward.

So come this July we will go see if ol girl has anything to tell us… I don’t doubt she (and my granny) will take over and everyone will just have to wait patiently till they are through. I apologize in advance to John Edward and anyone that is going to be there. If you knew my mom (Queenie) and her mother (Martha) you would know they will bulldoze their way through. That is how they roll…I don’t think the afterlife will change that. 

Book Review - A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness

I have seen this book so many times on Amazon… so many times and now it has turned into a trilogy and the last book of the trilogy is due out next month. All the times that I have seen it on my recommended list I look at it and then pass. Actually I look at the brief description and move on immediately. It starts with “a witch and a vampire”.

Oh GEEZ… another vampire?? The twilight series completely burned me out on the vampire plot, probably for the rest of my life. I trudged through those books, questioning my intelligence and feeling like I had insulted myself by reading such basically and elementary written pages. I did like the second one… but that is it… finished the series and still wonder why.  No vampire compares to Lestat, he was my first, and you combine that with my love for New Orleans and no other vampire stands a chance. (thank you Anne Rice)

Since I had a gift card and it wasn’t really MY money I was wasting on this book I decided to give it a whirl. I am one third through it and felt that I could at least give it a decent review. I like this 1500 year old vampire. He has a vulnerability similar to Lestat. He wants to be good, he is beautiful (yummy beautiful) and he smells good which is always a plus. He has the capacity to love and love deeply. The heroine – Diana Bishop, a supreme witch in denial, has such endearing qualities you can’t help but like her.

So far I am enjoying this book. And I somewhat agree with the reviewers that she could have shortened this book by about 200 pages (it is 615 pgs) but so far I don’t mind the long descriptions and technical ramblings.  But as I inch towards page 450 I understand the need for the lengthy explanations of certain things.

I am now finished with this book…. I love love love the enchantment of the Bishop house. The descriptions of the house itself, ghosts and how the house reacts to the people in it or the ones coming. They know visitors are coming because the house will literally add a room in preparation. The house will present a needed object from cracks in the walls or floors, it will hide things for hundreds of years, it creaks, sighs, moans, rattles, slams doors and is the resting place for many of the deceased Bishop witches of the past.

This isn’t your usual vampire story. This is a love story/mystery doused in history and magick. I am amazed to say this book has restored the damage done by the twilight series. I just downloaded #2 in the series. By the time I finish it the third one will be out and when I am done with the series by darling Prince Lestat will be released.

LOTS of good reading going on this summer my friends!!!

LOVE IS....

When I was young I thought there were only a few ways to love. Family love, friend love and soul mate love. But now that I am in my 40’s I realize there are so many different ways to love another human being. And there are so many people in my life that I can now say that love dearly.

 I love the little things about people in my life, their sweet and unique qualities that make them so endearing to me. I am not discriminatory, the people that I hold dear are of all ages and all walks of life. I have friends on Facebook that I haven’t seen in 10-15 years and some that I haven’t seen in over 30 years. But they are just as close as if they lived down the street. I love that they are there… when I need them to share the good and bad. Just the moral support they give is priceless. I love these friends and they are extremely close to my heart.

One of my closest friends is many years my senior. For the past 14 years they have been in my life every day. This is one of those special loves. Some would say I have daddy issues and that is the reason I feel so attached to this person, and that may be partially true but I think I am too old for daddy issues. I already have a wonderful surrogate daddy so I don’t need another. I feel this person is truly my friend. I know could call them at any time and they would be there to help. There is a comfort in knowing you have a friend with the resources to pull off the impossible should you ever need it; which I hope I never have the need. When my mother was in the hospital they checked on me every day – twice a day at least. When she passed I had a good sturdy shoulder standing by if I needed it. That is priceless to me.. There are only a handful of people in my life that I would be devastated to lose. My mother, obviously was one. This special friend of mine is another.

I have more fantastic girlfriends than I have ever had at one time in my life. Each one is exceptional in their own way and I treasure them. The one I have had the longest is one I hope I will always have. We still can read each other’s thoughts and can bust out laughing for reasons only we can understand. I have other girlfriends that are such positive and encouraging moral support that if I don’t talk to them at least 6 days out of 7 I can feel myself slipping into a bottomless pit crankiness. All my girlfriends are such a joy for me. They are with me all the time, at work, at church, during the week and on the weekends. I love them dearly. We have our own jokes and laughing at ourselves and those around us is when we are at our best. There is nothing better than laughing so hard you are wiping your eyes while you almost wet your pants.

My family is the biggest love I have. My love for my hubby and my kids is unlike anything I have ever known. As I get older I try to treasure the little things and make memories that will last a lifetime for us all. My extended, acquired and adopted family becomes more important every day. These are the loves that carry me through the rough patches and the joys of life. They share the happy times, sad times, stressful times and all the ins and outs of everyday life. I appreciate them for all their idiosyncrasies and craziness for they are always there. I once heard that southerners are supposed to appreciate their crazy people, sit them on the porch and hand them a glass of sweet tea. If that is true my porch is full, including me, and we are all enjoying the sunshine and a cold beverage.

Life is short… sometimes shorter than we would like to think and if I have learned anything the month of April 2014 it is to make the most of every minute you have with those you love. Make sure they know you love them and slow down… it is the little things you will remember and the way you love those close to you will be the way they remember you. 

Sparing the Rod...

Are some people predisposed to spoiling their kids?  I think it has to do with how you were raised. If you were given everything you ever asked for then there is a good chance you are pretty much worthless and have an unwarranted sense of entitlement. If you had to work small odd jobs and earn the things you wanted you are probably more appreciative of what you have and also what is given to you.

So, if it is in how you were raised, do we deliberately withhold things from our children simply because we are doing more damage in the long run?  Or do we give them everything we can simply because we can? How do you balance that? In this day and age of high tech gadgets what constitutes too much?

My daughter wanted a new phone. She already had my old phone. However, she specifically wanted an iPhone5C. I could have changed my plan to the tune of $20 more dollars a month and granted that wish for her birthday in November. But I deliberately didn’t and made her wait until her contract renewed in February. It was a bonus that she was invited to join the junior beta club at the same time. I used that new phone as a reward for the beta club and maintaining a 93 average for a year and a half. Ok – Justified as far as I am concerned

I often ask myself “am I ruining her??”. Making her less adaptable to potential hardships that may cross her path in life? Is she going to turn into these useless and worthless kids that think the world owes them something? I am paranoid about her being dysfunctional if I am not around. Of course she is 13 so she is totally dysfunctional right now anyway.

You realize you have ruined and spoiled a child when they reach adulthood … and then it is too late to undo the damage. So every day I have to make a conscious effort to not hand my children everything they say they want. It is so hard. But I have to keep telling myself that I am making them a better person and there is a difference between wanting and needing. They will always have what they need. But the older they get they will have to earn what they want. Any by earning I don’t mean mowing lawns… they can earn by good grades, household chores, no fighting and bickering. The list goes on cause when mama is happy…. Everyone is happy. 

Once Upon an Old House – Part 2

As I drive down my favorite stretch of highway one early rainy morning, I notice a distinctive change in the landscape. Various sizes of heavy equipment, lined up as if they are a part of a planned assault on an unseen target. Perfectly in a row on this early morning they are motionless yet ready for orders from the man in charge. Little did I know, that was exactly what was happening.A few hours later I drive back by and the equipment has come to life. It looks like the person that bought the property has decided to have it timbered. This makes me sad. Companies that timber land usually leave behind an offensive looking mess. Oh well, it is theirs and they have the right to do whatever they want to with their property.

As the day progressed the sun began to shine, chasing the clouds and rain away. On my last trip down this stretch of road I notice something different and I slow down long enough catch a glimpse of a roofline, chimney and window. I didn’t blink, I didn’t breathe at least for 10 seconds trying to see the rest of what was hidden as I crept slowly past. My imagination was going crazy trying to picture the home that once was and still remained elusive behind those overgrown woods.

I couldn’t help but wonder about the family that built the house. Houses of this style were usually about 100 years old. Who had lived there? Who had died there? How many children had been born and raised in that house? What stories could the house tell about the people that lived there? Why has it been abandoned and forgotten?

I am eager with anticipation, like Christmas morning, to see what lies under the green foliage wrapping and the treasure inside the shade of the trees.

To be continued....